Chapter Three #2
A dining table with four chairs filled the center of the shack.
Two rocking chairs and a small table between them were on the wall opposite her father’s bed.
A dresser that had belonged to Risa’s grandmother was on one side of the front door.
A bookcase made from old crates sat beneath the window on the other side.
The back wall of the shack held shelves and a large tin box they’d found on the side of the road, where they stored anything Risa feared rodents might get into.
A small doorway near the stove opened into a room just large enough for Risa’s bed and a chest of drawers that had been hers for as long as she could remember.
On silent feet, Risa blew out the wick in the kerosene lamp and crossed the floor to her room. “Night, Papa,” she whispered.
“Sleep well, Risa,” he mumbled in the way that let her know he was half asleep.
She smiled and slipped into her room, changed into a cotton nightdress, and knelt by her bed, where she said her prayers. She opened the door to her room in hopes of getting cool air inside it, blew out her candle, and stretched her tired muscles out on the bed.
The next morning, Risa awakened early but tried to convince herself to go back to sleep.
Unable to contain her excitement over the holiday, she rose and peeked out of her room.
Her father was still sleeping, so she returned to her room, unwilling to disturb him on a day when he could get much-needed rest.
Rather than rushing into the tasks awaiting her, Risa slipped on an old dress, left her feet bare, and picked up the Bible that had once been her mother’s. Tiptoeing to the back door, Risa opened it carefully and moved outside to watch the sun begin to illuminate the sky.
It was just light enough she could read, so she sat on the back step and worked her way through three Psalms before she heard the floor creak behind her.
“Morning, Girlie. You’re up early,” her father said through the screen.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, Papa.”
“You didn’t,” he said, his voice grumbly with sleep while his hair stood up on the left side of his head. He pushed open the door, walked down the steps, and strode over to their outhouse.
Risa waited to see if he were ready to be up for the day, or planned to return to bed.
When he returned to the house, he stopped long enough to kiss the top of her head. “Mind if I rest a little longer?”
“Not at all, Papa. Sleep all you like,” she said, wondering how she’d get all her food prepared in time for the picnic and service at the church, but she’d worry about that later.
Risa closed the Bible and her eyes, leaned back, and let the sun warm her face while joy filled her heart. Life might not be exactly as she wanted or pictured, but she had a hardworking father who loved her, she had a job she enjoyed, and Mrs. Baldwin had become a friend and confidante.
Lovely wasn’t exactly a beautiful place, but on mornings like this, when the world was quiet and the air was fresh, Risa could find beauty in the world around her.
She was glad the land they’d purchased was on the side of the road nearest the river. Although she couldn’t see the water from the steps, she could hear it and imagined how cool and refreshing it would feel.
Later, she’d take a quick dip in the river, once she’d finished preparing food for the day. For now, though, she tried to enjoy her unexpected moments of rest.
Used to being busy and active, Risa couldn’t sit still for long.
She thought about what to serve the guest her father had invited for supper, and finally decided on fried chicken.
Mrs. Baldwin had taught her how to make the best fried chicken, dipping the pieces in milk and flour before frying them in hot lard.
Her father certainly wouldn’t complain if that were on the menu.
Risa could mash potatoes and serve them with gravy.
Perhaps she could find enough vegetables in the garden to prepare a salad.
Unable to remain restful a moment longer, she went out to the garden and opened the gate that kept out wandering wildlife. She walked among the rows of plants, pulling weeds that seemed to have sprouted overnight.
Risa hauled buckets of water and gave the thirsty plants a good drink, pleased to find enough lettuce and radishes she could serve with their dinner. Too bad her tomatoes weren’t yet ripe, but they would be soon, along with peas and carrots, and cucumbers.
In hopes her father would have a restful day, Risa saw to the rest of the chores. She made sure the horses had plenty of water in their small pasture by the barn, then milked the cow, fed the pigs and chickens, and gathered the eggs.
She’d just finished straining the milk when her father once again appeared at the screen door, looking slightly disoriented.
“What time is it, Risa?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stepped outside.
“Not yet eight, Papa. You can rest more if you like.”
“No. I’ve slept half the day away as it is. Give me a minute to fully wake up, and I’ll see to the chores.”
“I already did them,” she said, removing the cloth from the bowl she’d strained the milk into and rinsing it at the pump behind the house.
“All the chores?” her father asked as he moved away from the house, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.
“All of them,” Risa said, carrying the milk inside the house.
If she hurried, she could whip up custard pie to take to the picnic, as well as the cherry pie for their dessert this evening.
“Since you took care of my work this morning, how about I help with yours?” her father asked as he followed her back into the house.
“I won’t turn down the help, Papa, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he said, washing his hands and face at the kitchen sink, then taking on the task of pitting cherries for the pie.
Risa told him her plans for dinner, and he volunteered to kill and pluck a chicken, both tasks Risa did not enjoy.
When she had her pies ready for the oven, she fried eggs with leftover crumbled bacon for their breakfast, and served them with biscuits.
“I think we should leave the food here while we go to the church service, Papa, then come home and get it,” Risa said as she washed the dishes.
“That’s fine with me. Speaking of food, I think I’ll run over and check on how the meat is cooking.”
Risa grinned. “You mean torment Jed about how he’s cooking it.”
Lars nodded. “That too.” He kissed her cheek and hurried out the door.
Risa hummed as she finished washing the dishes, tidied their little home, and filled a bucket with water that she took in her room for a sponge bath.
She indulged in washing her hair in the kitchen sink, knowing it would dry quickly in the summer heat already making the house overly warm.
She wished she could avoid heating up the stove later when she cooked dinner, but didn’t see any help for it.
Perhaps her father would build a fire outside and they could set a grate over it for cooking to keep the house from getting too overheated.
Risa finished her preparations for the picnic and left everything she’d need later on the table, then she hurried to dress in a white cotton shirtwaist she’d made from an old curtain Mrs. Baldwin had given to her.
The fabric had been the lining of the curtain, but it made a fine shirtwaist for a hot summer day, especially because Risa had used the threads she’d plucked from the seams to embroider flowers across the yoke.
She’d sewn the curtain—a soft dark-blue fabric—into a new skirt with a matching jacket.
It was far too warm for the jacket today, but it would make a fetching outfit for attending church services once the weather cooled.
Risa stood in front of the small mirror in the kitchen and fashioned her hair in a softer, looser style than she normally wore, then tied a length of blue ribbon that had been a birthday gift from her father last year in her hair instead of wearing a hat.
She pinned a pearl brooch that had once belonged to her grandmother at her throat, then concluded she was as ready as she could be for the day.
She glanced at their clock and saw it was a few minutes past ten.
They still had plenty of time to get to the church service, but she wondered if her father had forgotten he needed to clean up and change his clothes before they went.
She was just about to set out to look for him when the door swung open and he rushed inside, his hair and clothes damp.
“Jed got so riled at my joking, he shoved me in the river. I might have taken exception, but it felt good. I just went ahead and scrubbed off a bit while I was in there. It won’t take but a minute for me to change,” Lars said, his tone jovial as he began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. “Ready to go?”
“I am. I’ll just wait outside while you change, then we can leave whenever you’re ready.
” Risa lifted her mother’s Bible from the shelf and stepped out front.
She leaned against the side of the shack and watched people bustling along the road into Lovely.
It seemed the miners who hadn’t left town for the holiday and were sober enough to attend the service were heading to the church.
The pastor might have to hold the service outside if too many decided to attend, not that it would be a bad thing.
As warm as it was already this morning, the church would be hot and stuffy, especially if more people were there than usual.
The lure of the picnic had no doubt been the reason for the increased attendance, and not the hope of salvation.
A tall, broad-shouldered young man with hair the color of gold walked by, giving her a glance and a shy smile.
Risa couldn’t begin to put into words why he piqued her interest when there were a few dozen miners walking around him, but her gaze lingered on him as he continued into town.