Chapter Twenty-Six
Ice Cream
The following week, Miss June, Trick, Oscar and I rode back to Cal’s place. It made sense for us to go in a group, but we’d decided that Cal was most likely to confide in Miss June—and only if they had some privacy.
So, if it turned out that Cal’s husband was still ‘away’, as we expected, Miss June would stay at the house with Cal, and Trick and Oscar and I would take the older children into the village, to see about some new clothes.
When we arrived at their place, the situation was the same as before.
Caliope assured us again that Mr. Webster would return sometime soon, but we had our doubts.
Trick asked if we could take the children into Agnes Hill and do some shopping, and Caliope gave us leave without any trouble.
I reckoned she was glad to have a break, although we had to leave Sam, as he was too young to be taken on horseback, and anyway, none of us wanted to be in charge of such a young child.
Lizzie, of course, wanted to ride on ‘Onis’, so Oscar lifted her up in front of him, while Peter rode behind me on Dixie.
Oscar and Lizzie made a pretty picture, and I exchanged warm glances with my husband as we rode to town on this mild summer day.
In another strange universe, perhaps we could have had a little girl of our own to raise, but this was enough, and I enjoyed seeing him taking good care of the child.
Lizzie and Peter seemed thrilled to get away from the farm for a ride into town, and no doubt they looked forward to the acquisition of some better clothing.
Miss June had provided enough money from the coffers of The Angel to get a new set of things for each of them, including shoes and boots.
She said she was glad to do it and valued giving back some of her earnings to folks who needed help.
When we got to Agnes Hill, the first thing we did was stop for a bite to eat. I had no idea if the children had had any breakfast. From the way they scarfed down the milk and biscuits Trick bought at the roadside stand, I figured they hadn’t.
Once they were done, we went shopping for clothes. Oscar and Trick went with Lizzie, and I took Peter to get some decent pants and shirts.
By the time we were finished, Peter had two new sets of trousers and shirts, a pair of boots and good shoes, and a nice hat that looked like mine and would keep the sun off.
Lizzie had two new dresses—a fancy one and a plain one—new shoes, and a pretty straw hat.
She’d also talked Oscar into getting her a soft cloth puppy dog that she’d seen in a shop window.
I swear, my young husband had the most generous heart this side of Saskatchewan.
’Twas probably a good thing we couldn’t have a little one of our own, or we’d be plumb broke by the time it turned two.
Between me indulging Oscar’s wants and Oscar indulging the child, there wouldn’t have been any money left!
But the way Lizzie held that little toy dog to her chest was enough to make me sigh with the tiniest bit of regret that there’d be no little ‘uns runnin’ through our house.
We decided to give the children one more treat before heading back and stopped at the general store for some ice cream.
“We ain’t never had any before,” Peter said, as we gazed at the small, framed chalkboard behind the counter, with the available flavors listed in large white printed letters.
“What flavor do you want, Lizzie?” Oscar asked, gazing up at the words on the board.
“There’s vanilla and chocolate. Why, there’s even lemon,” he said, with such a casual air that I blinked with surprise and couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face.
’Twas because of me, and because of Oscar’s hard work learning his letters and practicing, that he could read those words, and I was more’n proud.
He turned to glance at me, and his smile matched mine. Then he looked down at Lizzie.
Her eyes had gone wide at the thought of the special treat. She looked at Oscar, her mouth open as if she wanted to choose but couldn’t possibly. Peter seemed equally overwhelmed.
“Why, I think I’ll have the chocolate,” I said.
“You want chocolate, Lizzie? I was going to have vanilla, but I think I’ll have what Jimmy’s havin’,” Oscar said.
“Okay,” Lizzie said, in a very small voice. “Me, too, please.”
“Peter?” Oscar said.
“I’ll have vanilla, please.”
Oscar ordered the sweet treats from the shopkeeper, and soon we were sitting around the corner on a bench, the children licking the cream from their cones with dazed and happy expressions on their sweet faces.
I couldn’t keep my gaze off Oscar’s tongue as he licked his chocolate ice cream, and then our gazes met, and I felt a jolt of arousal go through me. But now was not the time, so I averted my gaze as he smirked, and Lizzie uttered a startled cry.
I looked o’er to see little Lizzie staring down at her scoop of ice cream, which had fallen onto her brand-new dress that, of course, she’d insisted on wearing.
She started to cry before any of us had time to react.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “I ruined my new dress! I should have been more careful.”
Peter flashed me a panicked look, then put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder as we rushed to reassure her.
“But ’tis my only nice frock, the other one gots blood all over it and t’was my favorite. That’ll never come out, so momma burned it up.”
Oscar and Trick and I looked at each other, as Peter tried to shush the sobbing child.
“What do you mean it’s got blood on it?” Oscar said, crouching down to be at eye level with the distraught youngster. “How did your dress get blood on it, Lizzie?”
Peter seemed uncomfortable and said, “She got too close when Pa chopped the rooster up, that’s all.”
“No, I didn’t!” Lizzie whispered. “You know I didn’t! You know what the blood’s from. You know , Peter! You saw it, just like I did.”
An icy shiver of dread sliced down my spine.
“Lizzie, shush! You know Momma wouldn’t want us sayin’,” Peter said, in the same hushed voice, as if what they were referring to was something secret and private.
Lizzie’s next words, uttered in that same low whisper of shame and despair, made everything clear in one, fell swoop, like an axe cutting through a sheep’s skull.
“She chopped him up. ’Twasn’t the rooster and Pa, ’twas Momma and Pa…in the barn.” Lizzie hiccupped and took in a shuddering breath. “And I’m glad she did it, Peter, ’cept it stained my best frock, and now I’ve ruined this one, too!”
Peter looked like he wanted to grab Lizzie and run, but he realized ’twould be futile. Instead, he stood stock still, staring at the ground for a moment before raising his gaze to mine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Momma didn’t want us to tell.”
I looked at our surroundings. We were fortunate that there weren’t any townsfolk near enough to overhear the alarming conversation. Then I met Oscar’s gaze. He looked the way I felt, like everything had become clear, but ’twas nothing we’d ever expected or knew how to handle.
“It’s all right, Lizzie,” I said. “You ain’t done nothing wrong by telling us.”
Lizzie’s sobs increased.
“Is Momma gonna be locked up?” she said, in the smallest voice. And Oscar jumped into action.
He crouched down and clasped her slim arms, so he could get her to look at him.
“No. No, Lizzie, your momma ain’t goin’ nowhere.
We ain’t gonna tell no-one, so you can stop cryin’.
And now you’ve got two new dresses, and we can get the ice cream mark off this one easy.
Don’t you worry. It ain’t ruined at all. ”
I could have kissed him as Lizzie nodded and tried to smile through her tears.
“Peter, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, gesturing for him to follow me down the sidewalk a ways. Trick eyed me but she didn’t comment and stayed with Oscar and Lizzie.
Peter followed me to a spot in the shadows of a sycamore tree, where we could speak in some measure of privacy.
“Now I need you to tell me the truth. Did your momma kill your pa, like Lizzie said?”
Peter nodded, his face pale and his eyes wild. “Yes, sir.”
I put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He’d gone all pale, and I reckoned this conversation was bringing it all back to him, but we needed to know.
“Why do you suppose she did it?”
“Because—” Peter said, but he only got that word out before tears started to fall from his brown eyes. He was silent at first, then his lips trembled as his face contorted, and he started to sob in earnest.