Chapter Eight
Alexandra was, by nature, a planner. She liked nothing more than to have all the facts about a situation, then organize the correct steps to take in response.
It would have been easy to look at her and see someone who was soft and timid, but it was usually simply a matter of her building up a course of action before releasing the brake.
She arose early, as was dictated by the demands of a working ranch, and from the moment her eyes opened, she had a layout of the day already in mind.
She had been granted a small room downstairs, next to the kitchen.
She suspected that it had, up until very recently, been a storeroom, given the occasional loose grains she found in corners.
She didn’t mind; it was quiet and snug, and it gave her quick access to the areas of the house that would be her domain.
She dressed quickly and sensibly in a light printed calico day dress without any fuss or frills.
The skirt was simply pleated into the bodice, with the fullness swept to the back and held up with tapes in deference to the fashion for bustles.
She slipped out the back door barefoot and gathered the eggs from the coop, dropping them into a sling made from her apron ends.
I can do this, she thought to herself, cheered by the ease with which she was tackling the endless work before her. She returned the eggs to the kitchen and built up the fire in the stove, feeding the iron beast twigs and sticks until it crackled.
The stairs at the center of the house creaked, and Lisa appeared in the kitchen, her eyes still half-closed with sleep.
“Good morning, Aunt,” Alexandra said, all perky delight in her new domestic sphere.
“Mm,” Lisa answered. She, too, had dressed simply, and her hair was still in a long plait that swung over her shoulder.
“I’ve gotten the range going and have gathered the eggs,” Alexandra announced, feeling a little smug about her early start.
Lisa nodded, stifling a yawn. “The goat will need to be milked.”
Alexandra stared at Lisa, her smile fading. “I don’t know the first thing about goats.”
“I do—my parents had goats. I’ll tend to it.” Lisa glanced around the kitchen. “You’ll need to fetch water for the coffee and for the washbasins.”
Alexandra nodded, squaring her shoulders. She’d never had to fetch water before in her life, as they had lived in a fairly modern little home with a water spigot at the kitchen sink. Still, she refused to be daunted and picked up the buckets that were stacked next to the back door.
The sun still wasn’t up as she made her way to the water pump. The sky was a soft gray, without a cloud in it. The grass underfoot was drier than she was used to, but stubbornly clinging to its green color in defiance of the heat. She hummed a little song, swinging the buckets merrily.
Her cheerful mood quickly vanished when she realized the water was, in fact, quite heavy. Nevertheless, Alexandra was determined.
She worked the pump, filled the buckets, and set her jaw. She lifted them with straight arms, and the strain nearly toppled her. She righted herself and began the trek back to the house.
What had been a short, easy walk now looked like a march across the high desert, the distance stretching improbably into miles.
Alexandra gritted her teeth and forced herself on, which in reality amounted to a stiff-armed waddle.
The buckets crashed into her legs and sloshed.
Soon her skirt boasted two large wet spots that soaked right through to the petticoat and clung.
The rest of the breakfast preparations proceeded as smoothly as possible.
The children and Aidan appeared and took their places at the table.
The children, as always, looked grubby and vaguely dust-covered, but she said nothing as she fed them a modest but filling meal of wild rice, eggs, and bacon.
Breakfast was a subdued affair, with the children clearly still sulking, Aidan probably sulking, and Alexandra’s bright mood of earlier all but extinguished by the terrible feeling of her damp skirt.
Aidan stood when he was finished and looked her over, brusque about it, which made her blush. He went to the back door and lifted his hat from a peg next to it.
“You don’t want to go around with bare feet out of doors,” he said gruffly, settling his hat on his head.
“Why?” Alexandra asked.
“Snakes, scorpions, black widow spiders. Hard to see in the dark,” he said, and disappeared out to the stables to begin work for the day.
Alexandra stared after him, then turned a grim look on Lisa. They seemed to be thinking the same thing: Just what sort of savage land have we come to?
After Aidan had departed, the children all pushed back from the table, clearly intent on beginning their day of running wild all over the ranch.
“Wait!” Alexandra said, standing so quickly that her chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor. The children all stared at her. “That is, I thought perhaps we might take the day to get to know each other a little better.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see Lisa incline her head curiously. The children all looked at her blankly or with some degree of suspicion.
“Why?” Danny asked plainly.
“Well,” Alexandra said, scrambling a little to come up with a reason for something she felt was patently obvious. “We all have to live together now, don’t we? I think it would make living here easier if we were all friends.”
“You want to be friends?” Bella asked dubiously. Alexandra didn’t miss the glance that she threw to her brother, clearly seeking his approval.
Ah, Alexandra thought to herself, understanding immediately. She wishes to be one of them, but isn’t. And Danny, watching to see whether she’d noticed. Not sly. Braced, like a man who expects to be the one who has to fix it.
“Yes,” Alexandra said aloud. “We could read, or… or we could bake something!” Alexandra hazarded a glance at Lisa, who gave her a small, approving smile. “How about some cookies?”
“Cookies?” Danny repeated. He looked at his siblings, then back at Alexandra, slyly. “Timmy O’Creagh says that his ma gives him cookies for breakfast.”
“We’ll address that after we get the things baked,” Alexandra said. She turned to the kitchen and clapped her hands together.
She might not be confident about her abilities to cook a dinner, but when it came to baking, she was in her element. She loved making sweets and seemed to understand the ways of butter and sugar instinctively.
The children, reluctant at first, proved eager to help.
Of course, their version of “helping” wasn’t particularly helpful, but Alexandra was glad just to have them participating.
They asked her questions and spoke to her without the grumpiness that had defined their manner since she had arrived.
Her only complaint was that Danny had a habit of lingering in the pantry, likely sneaking tastes of candied peel or dried currants.
She caught him standing near the shelf that held them, along with the liniment for muscle aches.
By the time they were done, the kitchen was covered in flour.
Alexandra sent the children off to wash their faces, hoping to present a better picture of domesticity by the time Aidan came in from the barn.
She could see it now: a house redolent with baking, and herself greeting him with a smile.
The children would happily tell him how they’d spent the day.
Everything would be nicer between them, a fresh start.
“That was a good idea,” Lisa commented from behind Alexandra. Alexandra gave her a questioning look. “The cookies,” she clarified. “While I don’t recommend it as a regular policy, sweets are a good way to a child’s heart. It worked on you, after all.”
“Me?” Alexandra asked, turning to wipe some flour from the table.
“Oh yes. You were quite a petulant little thing when you first came to live with me,” Lisa said, a wistful smile on her face. She joined Alexandra in cleaning up the kitchen, stacking the dishes in the large washbasin. “You probably don’t remember it.”
Alexandra shook her head, making Lisa laugh. Which quickly turned into a cough. Lisa put a hand to her mouth and caught the back of a chair with the other, hacking. Alexandra went to her and patted her gently on the back.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice and face both filled with concern.
“I’m fine,” Lisa croaked. “It’s just the heat and those bedrooms. I thought I’d give them a good turnout, and you’d have thought that this was a ranch that bred dust instead of horses.
” She coughed a couple more times, her face reddening.
She took a seat on one of the chairs. “Don’t fret,” she said, waving Alexandra away.
“I’ll be fine. You see to the children.”
Alexandra withdrew reluctantly and turned her attention back to straightening the kitchen as much as she could. Aidan was outside the house, talking loudly to someone. He poked his head in through the back door.
“Lunch ready?” he asked.
“It’s sandwiches today,” Alexandra said. “I won’t make a habit of that, but I’ve been busy with the children today.”
“Busy doing what?” he glanced around the kitchen. “Not doing chores, clearly. Can smell the chicken coop from here.”
Alexandra folded her arms defensively over herself and tossed her head. “We’ve been baking, for your information,” she said with more than a pinch of haughtiness. “I thought it might be a nice surprise for you.”
Aidan’s face shifted, his expression lost somewhere between confused and concerned. Alexandra turned and lifted the tray of cookies to show him, more than a little smug. Let’s see him complain when he’s wolfing down sweets, she thought.
The children appeared at that moment. Their faces were a bit cleaner than before. They stood in a line from youngest to oldest, cherubic expressions on their faces. Alexandra smiled warmly at them. She glanced at Lisa, who nodded encouragingly.
Perhaps this is all they needed, just a bit of care and attention, Alexandra thought.