It is 1920 in western Kansas and the house that David had promised Emily, his bride of fifteen months, is still unfinished due to a failed wheat crop the previous summer. Forced to move into the crowded, unfinished home of her extended family, Emily is miserable. Worst of all, she must face the fact that, due to his parents' influence, the once sweet and lovable David is becoming increasingly hostile toward her and their newborn daughter. David's family resents Emily because she is well-educated and a suffragist, but Emily is determined to make her marriage work, using her ingenuity to deal with their cruel comments and prejudice. When the school board arrives on her doorstep one morning to announce their immediate need for a teacher, Emily is torn. The family is povertystricken, but no one in David's family is offering to watch her baby. After she turns down the job to focus on her wifely duties, her father comes to visit. Appalled at the barren surroundings and her living situation, Emily's father thinks his little girl has wandered into the wrong place. Is he right or can Emily prove him wrong?
A Distant Home
By George ParisiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 George Paris
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4502-0495-8 Chapter One
Her hand shook as she lit the kerosene lamp on the dressing table. The room was cold, but her hand shook more from fear than from the temperature. The baby had been crying for some time, and Emily stayed in bed as long as she dared, trying to decide what to do. She did not want to disturb her husband as she got out of bed, but she knew he was awake and unhappy.
"What are you doing?" David grumbled as the lamp was lit.
"I want to make sure she's not too cold. I'm going to hold her for a little while." She lifted the infant from the crib and tried to comfort her.
David bolted upright in bed. "Are you going to stop that baby from yelling, or will I have to do that for you?"
"Rachel's probably hungry, David. I'll get some milk downstairs and feed her there. That will keep her from crying for awhile."
"You're just spoilin' her," he growled. "Every time she cries, you give in to her. She needs discipline! She can't have her way all the time. The sooner she learns that, the better."
"Not so loud, David. You'll wake everyone in the house."
"They're already awake, what with the baby screamin' like that." He lay down and pulled the covers over his head.
Emily turned to leave the room. The gentle snoring from the other bedrooms had stopped. Only the wind howling outside accompanied the cries of her infant. She knew this disturbance would again raise the ire of her in-laws. If discipline were to be demanded for this fragile infant, what would that mean? Was her child doomed to an early death?
The house that David had promised his bride, an addition to his parents' small farmhouse, was still unfinished because of a failed wheat crop the previous summer, and quilts hung at the doorways of the upstairs bedrooms for privacy. Emily moved the quilt aside to leave the room. As she stepped into the hall, she was surprised to discover David's sister, Maude, standing there in the semi-dark.
"There you go again," Maude hissed. "You think you know everything just because you taught school."
"Maude! This is does not concern you! Rachel is my daughter, not yours."
In response, Maude slapped Emily across the face. "You should always let your husband rule your home." She quickly returned to her bedroom.
Emily hurried down the stairs and burst into tears. She found it difficult to see as she lit another lamp and the kerosene burner in her kitchen stove. With her face stinging from Maude's hand and her spirit wounded by her husband's attitude, she set about preparing to feed Rachel. Her feet ached with the cold, but as the fire warmed the milk and the room, she took Rachel in her arms and collapsed into a rocking chair. Mother and daughter sobbed together. She longed to be back in Woodson County, Kansas, near her own relatives and friends.
Emily did not doubt her child's needs. She had tried to breast-feed Rachel but because of stress and overwork, her own milk soon diminished to an insufficient amount. Now three months later, Rachel's weight had barely increased, leaving Emily frightened about the health of her child. David's family seemed not to care. Their only concern was about the baby's constant crying. She knew that David's parents and his brother Joe shared Maude's distrust of Emily, but Maude's anger was especially vicious.
The wedding had taken place fifteen months ago in the fall of 1918. It was a happy occasion at the home of Emily's grandmother in Woodson County. No one from David's family had come to the wedding. David was the proud and happy groom, pleased to be marrying a beautiful and intelligent school teacher. He saw in her not only beauty, but strength of character and a good mother for his children. Their courtship had been mostly by mail, however, since he and his family had moved to Lane County some five years earlier. Their love had been declared for each other in those letters. Emily was fairly certain she knew her husband, but since coming to live with her in-laws in Lane County, she had tried in vain to win acceptance and a degree of respect. She had been a high school principal prior to her marriage and had dealt with several large and unruly young men, but she had never encountered the kind of disdain her husband's family had shown her. They resented her intrusion into their lives in spite of the fact that she had taken over several of the most backbreaking domestic responsibilities.
"Dear little Rachel," she whispered to her daughter. "I was right, wasn't I? You were hungry. I wish my needs could be met as easily. I don't know what to do. I really don't know. Can I ever learn to live with these people? Their hostility is almost more than I can bear, but I don't want the disgrace of divorce. Did I give you the wrong papa?"
When Rachel was content and asleep, Emily sat for a moment remembering a time before the wedding when David had returned to Yates Center to visit relatives and friends. He had escorted Emily to a box supper at her church, in her surrey, hitching up her horse. Because of his careful attention he had made her feel like a real lady. He seemed so sweet and loveable then, as well as at the wedding, where he visited comfortably with her relatives. She had begun to suspect that the difference between the David of Woodson County and the David of Lane County was the influence of his parents. Realizing how cold she was, Emily began her ascent upstairs in the hope that she could sleep a bit more before dawn. With feet numb from the cold, she entered the bedroom.
David was still awake. "What did you do?" he asked without moving.
"I fed her some warm milk. That's all she wanted."
"Huh!" He sounded disappointed. "Hope I can get back to sleep."
Emily crawled back into bed. I hope I can also. He doesn't seem to care. David turned over with his back to her, sighed and quickly fell asleep, but Emily's mind raced ahead with thoughts of the next day's work. Tuesday was ironing day-always tedious work. She was still exhausted from washday. Her mother-in-law, Amelia, would help with the ironing. She was more tolerant than Maude, and more likely to pitch in and work when something needed to be done. Maude should take over most of the food preparation, but Emily dared not ask such a favor. No one would help with Rachel.
Snoring in the other bedrooms resumed and the wind howled outside. She gradually allowed exhaustion to overcome her as she drifted like a storm cloud into a restless sleep.
Morning came too early. The wind rattled the windows making an eerie sound, and a sense of foreboding invaded the pre-dawn darkness as the couple struggled out of bed. David dressed without comment. After checking on Rachel, Emily sat on the edge of the bed and combed her hair. Just before David left the room, she felt she had to say something-anything, to break the dreadful silence.
"Do you have a lot of work planned for today?"
"Course I do." David laced and tied his boots. "Lots to do out there in the barn ... have a feeling that Ayrshire heifer is about to drop her calf ... may have already happened. I'll soon find out."
She listened as her husband clomped noisily down the stairs, an action designed to rouse his brother, Joe, and his father, Gus, so they could help with the milking. It felt like a moment of abandonment.
Emily pinned her braided hair in a bun, poured a little water into the basin, and washed her face. Painfully cold, the water gave her energy, yet she felt unprepared to face this day. It would not remain undamaged.
I know everyone's likes and dislikes by now, she thought. Some of their idiosyncrasies are silly-even humorous. Gus demands applesauce at every meal. Amelia insists on using homemade lye soap for every cleaning job, be it bathing, dishwashing, laundry or floor scrubbing. She insists that I help her clean everything except her bedroom. Why will she not allow me in there? Is she afraid of what I will see? And Maude-oh yes, Maude! She still behaves like a spoiled child even though she's somewhere in her late twenties. Maude likes to sew, but refuses to darn socks even though they might need only a bit of repair. And she frequently enjoys poor health at the most inconvenient times. I wish I could laugh at these silly quirks, but that would only cause more problems. I must never make fun of even the most ill-founded notion. And, I must not let them know how angry I am. Even though little Rachel demands a lot, she is the joy of my life. I love her so much.
In spite of the missing doors, David had made certain that the farmhouse would provide a degree of privacy for the newlyweds. The house was arranged as a duplex of sorts. There was a small kitchen on the first floor for Emily, not much larger than a closet, even though she and David were expected to eat most of their meals in the large dining room with the whole family. And she was supposed to do more than her share of the household chores. She understood this unspoken rule and volunteered to undertake several of the more unpleasant tasks, such as hanging out the laundry on the clothesline in cold weather, or washing the cream separator at least once each day. Now she was in the large kitchen, involved in getting breakfast ready for the entire family.
Jack, the only exception to the hostility surrounding her, opened the door bringing a fresh bucket of water from the well. He was the seventeen-year-old son of Clarence, David's oldest brother, who was left a widower after Jack was born. A tall, slender, handsome adolescent, Jack had come to live here under the care of his grandmother soon after his mother died. Emily was allowed to tutor him in math and English, but Amelia safeguarded her role as surrogate mother.
"What a nice thing to do, Jack! I really appreciate it, especially on a cold morning like this."
"I knew you could use some extra water. It's easy for me to do." He set the bucket on the floor near the sink. "By the way," he spoke quietly. "I couldn't help overhearin' what Maude did last night. Seems to me that was none of her business, but she tends to think everyone's business is hers ... always mad about something ... just wanted to let you know I'm sorry." Without giving her a chance to respond, Jack turned to leave. "I gotta saddle up Dolly ... get ready for school."
Emily relaxed with this refreshing bit of encouragement. I think I have time to make some soda biscuits. Jack will appreciate two or three. I must have that finished as well as the oatmeal and the fried ham and potatoes before David comes back with the morning milk. He wants his meals on time ... if Rachel will sleep for a few more minutes.
The first light of day revealed a cloudy atmosphere, matching the wailing wind, as David stepped onto the back porch. The cream separator soon began to hum. In a few minutes, David and Joe would be in for breakfast, and the rest of the family would already be waiting at the table. Emily worried about David's mood and whether Rachel would remain quiet until the breakfast dishes were washed.
The biscuits were placed in the oven just as David came in from the porch. "It's snowing," he said. "Nineteen twenty's startin' out with some precipitation. Looks like it could be a blizzard. If the wind doesn't blow all the snow into the fencerows, we can sure use the moisture."
"It's a good thing the laundry's done," she responded.
David removed his coat and boots and patted Emily on her back, then kissed her on the cheek, his most affectionate gesture in several days. "Did you know that livestock are more likely to be born during storms? I think that cow's gonna have her calf today." His mood seemed improved as he sat down for breakfast. Perhaps it would be a good day after all.
Rachel slept in a basket on the couch while Emily worked at the ironing board. Amelia, her mother-in-law, stood at the window and watched the snow driven by the wind. After a long period of silence, Amelia spoke.
"Looks like this blizzard's set in for quite a while. Good thing we got the washin' done yesterday. Thank heavens! I wouldn't want to be hangin' out clothes on the line in this weather." "I quite agree," Emily replied, her legs aching from standing so long.
"Glad we have enough men to take care of all that work out there. I sure wouldn't want to deal with those cows in this storm. I've done my share of milkin' in my day, but I'm here to tell ya, I'm happy to have the men folks do it now." Amelia was short and thin with a round face, rosy cheeks and a topknot of hair. She paused, then turned to speak to Emily. "Don't suppose you ever had to do the milkin', did ya?"
Emily hesitated a moment. If this was a question to trap her, she must avoid being caught. She chose her words carefully. "When I was fourteen years old, Papa was sick with typhoid fever. He couldn't do any of the farm work. Mama spent all her time taking care of Papa ... bathing him ... coaxing food into him ... changing the sheets every day ... boiling them. My brothers and I took over all the farm work. Both of the boys chopped and split the wood ... fed the chickens ... gathered the eggs. I did all the milking, since I was the oldest. All three of us took care of the garden. Yes, I milked cows that year, although we had only five at the time ... not as many as we have here."
"Well, I declare!" Amelia sounded genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you ever had to do a man's work. Not that kind anyhow. Of course, you had a man's job when you was a school principal. But it looks like the farm work never hurt you none."
"No, I survived. And so did Papa, but his recovery took a long time. He never was as strong after that. This iron's getting cold. I'd better get a hotter one." She stopped first to check on Rachel, who was making little sucking noises as if she were about to wake up, hungry.
"I'll take over the ironin'." Amelia's voice sounded somewhat sympathetic. "You'd better see to the baby. We don't want her to have another screamin' fit."
Maude, who had been in the kitchen peeling potatoes, came into the room and sat in a chair near the stove. "I think I've got a touch of asthma," she declared as she warmed her hands. "I just don't feel well at all," she threw a shawl around her shoulders, crossed her ankles, tucked them under her chair and closed her eyes.
With a hot iron, Amelia took up her post at the ironing board while Emily changed the baby's diaper. No one spoke for several minutes. The clock on the wall struck four. Then Amelia broke the silence. "Oh mercy me! This iron's too hot now. I've scorched your petticoat, Emily. Oh, it'll come out next time it's washed and anyway, it'll never be seen."
As Emily went into the kitchen to warm some milk for Rachel the back door flew open and Augustus, her father-in-law, burst in, stomping the snow from his boots and shaking snow all about to form puddles on the floor.
"Had to come in to get warmed up a bit," he announced. "The boys are still out there in the barn taking care of the new calf. Came about ten minutes ago. Looks like everything's gonna be all right. But man oh man! It's cold. That wind just goes right through ya!" As though he had said something profound, he removed his coat with a ceremonial flourish and entered the dining room to join his wife and daughter. Augustus was tall and thin. Now in his mid-sixties, he presented a rather distinguished appearance with a few wisps of white hair and a prominent mustache. "Yes siree," he declared. "We got us another cow to milk ... looks like a good milker ... nice lookin' udder."
Maude rose from her chair and went to her father. "Papa, you shouldn't be out there in this weather. David and Joe can do all that work without you." Maude spoke tenderly. "We don't want you catchin' pneumonia."
"No Maude, I have things to do out there ... mostly in the barn ... out of the wind. The boys can't do it all." Maude rubbed his back for a moment and returned to her chair by the stove.
Emily listened from the kitchen as the milk warmed. She had read information provided by her doctor in Yates Center about the rich and nourishing milk from cows that have just given birth, and she wondered if that extra ingredient called colostrum might be the answer to Rachel's inability to gain weight. "I'll ask David to bring some in for Rachel." She knew that cows always produce more than enough for their newborn. There could be no harm in trying. Emily came back to the dining room with renewed energy and started feeding Rachel. She talked to her daughter in soft, loving tones.
"You poor little girl," she crooned. "You must start gaining weight. We'll get you some of that good milk from the new fresh cow. You'll like that."
Amelia stopped ironing, holding the iron in mid air. Maude sat up in her chair and Augustus stood. All three frowned and stared at Emily. She realized too late that she had said something she shouldn't have.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from A Distant Homeby George Paris Copyright © 2010 by George Paris. Excerpted by permission.
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