Page 19 of A Letter to Adaya
She’d talk to Walter first. Since he spent most of the day with Beau, he’d have a better idea of what the rancher thought regarding the property.
Yes, talking to Walter first was an excellent idea. Then she could get up her courage to talk to Beau.
Chapter Six
It had been a week and Adaya hadn’t seen Walter, Beau, or Jesse. She was busy enough with her own chores that by the time supper rolled around, all she wanted to do was eat and immediately go to bed. She could hear the brothers come in after she had already retired, and they were gone by the time she woke up in the morning.
Walter was helping them with the last of the branding for the season and other ranch chores. Adaya didn’t think that the chores were very labor intensive, but it made the older man feel useful.
Instead of a paycheck, they would stay on the Pickett property until they could build a new cabin on Breckenridge land. Walter moved into the bunkhouse, claiming he felt more comfortable there. Adaya stayed in the house, surrounded by strangers. Emily and Georgia were friendly, and even Georgia’s husband appeared cordial. A little odd, but pleasant enough. Still, she felt very alone.
Adaya missed the freedom of being able to go outside and disappear for the day. Back home, she’d take Phileas for a long run and find a nice tree to sit under. She’d take two apples, and they’d each have a snack before making the walk home.
She could probably still do that, but Beau would probably shout her down when he found her. She inquired about seeing the horses he purchased, but Beau swiftly shut down that request and prohibited her from going near the pasture where the horses were kept. He gave a lame excuse about them adjusting to the new environment and not undoing the work the cowboys were doing.
Since she had nothing better to do, she threw herself into helping Emily keep the house, but after a week, she was already tired of doing household chores.
As she tried to push herself up out of her bed, a pained groan escaped through clenched teeth. Every bone in her body felt like it was on fire, and the dull throbbing brought back memories of Aunt Cleo’s warning the night before that this would happen when she traveled too much.
Struggling to sit upright, she gingerly tied her long hair into a knot at the top of her head, wincing as she did so. Her eyes fell upon the jar of lanolin rub sitting atop the dresser. Aunt Cleo had sent her to bed with it, but Adaya didn’t apply it. Now her body screamed for some relief.
Discretion was the better part of valor, and she dabbed it onto the backs of each calf before pulling on her thick stockings and sliding her feet into the soft leather house shoes she’d brought. Her kid leather outdoor shoes were beside the back door for her trip to the chicken coop.
Next came her dark green day skirt and more of the lotion on her arms before adding one of her long sleeve blouses. It was cooler here than it had been in Chicago. They also did not have indoor plumbing, so she had to layer up before heading outside to do her business.
She was debating on sending a letter to the man who had done the work for Papa and gifting an indoor water closet to the Picketts for their kindness. Adaya found that she quite liked the Pickett women, though after meeting Madison in town, she assumed that would be true. Emily and Georgia wanted to hear all about Adaya’s life before arriving at Flat River. Both had laughed with her about the coming-out parties in Virginia and the roosters, as Adaya liked to call them.
Adaya was taken aback when she discovered that Georgia and Madison had spent their childhood just a stone’s throw away from her grandmother’s house. How she wished they’d met sooner in life, and she wondered if their fast friendship was what having true sisters would be like.
Once she was dressed, Adaya quickly made the bed. She grabbed the pillow to fluff it but brought it to her face and felt the plushness of the down feathers against her skin. The light cinnamon smell was replaced by something more earthy.
Leather and tobacco. But how?
She had yet to see anyone smoking on the ranch. She fluffed the pillow and put it back on the bed, pulling the quilt over it.
Whose room was she in?Adaya wondered as she let herself out of her room. Making her way down the hallway, she looked over the banister to see if Aunt Cleo was awake yet. The big room was empty, but the smell of coffee drifted through the house. Each morning, a kettle was heated beside the coffeepot as the women preferred to drink tea.
Slipping into the kitchen, she found four brothers at the table with mugs in front of them.
“Have you eaten yet?” she asked, instead of a greeting.
Four heads shook, but no one moved. Shaking her head, Adaya slid her outside shoes on, and her cloak, grabbing the egg basket as well. After a quick trip to the facilities and a hand wash in the bucket by the porch, she ducked into the henhouse to gather the morning eggs.
On her way out of the coop, she opened the door to the henhouse and closed the gate behind her. Emily had mentioned that Nate used to take care of the chickens, but since he’d moved to town, one of the hands would take care of it, if they remembered. She’d also heard about Simon’s dislike of the animals from Georgia.
Letting herself back into the house, she caught the screen before it could slap against its frame, switched out her shoes and rehung her cloak.
“Breakfast will be in about twenty minutes.” No one heard her entrance, so she stood still for a moment, silently observing them in huddled concentration.
Humming to herself, she put the egg bucket on the counter and pulled an iron pan with a dollop of grease over the burner to heat. Her hands moved deftly while the golden yolks slid into two bowls, and she discarded the shells in another. She whipped both bowls with a fork until the eggs were light and frothy. The larger bowl she set aside.
The bread she made yesterday was still fresh, and she expertly sliced a loaf into thick slices and arranged them on a platter.
Once the iron was hot enough, she dipped slices of bread into the whipped eggs and placed them in the hot cast iron. Grandma’s cook in Virginia had made this one day, and Adaya had never looked at breakfast the same way again. As each slice turned golden brown, she added it to a plate and covered it with a cloth to keep it warm. Finally, she added the large bowl of eggs to the pan and mixed them into a soft scramble. By the time she turned back around, the kitchen table was full.
“Beau, go help her,” Aunt Cleo directed, before giving her a warm smile.
“It’s no trouble,” Adaya answered reflexively, but it was too late; he was already crossing the kitchen. As he approached, the air seemed to evaporate.
