Page 13 of Her Gentle Protector
“You can take the few eggs I collected this morning. Just leave six.”
“What can I take out of here?” His eyes swept the root cellar, taking in the various vegetables.
“Take some onions, potatoes, and carrots. Maybe some of those apples, too.” Annamae grabbed a basket hanging from the wall and handed it to Baxter. “And take some of that salt pork. We can spare a little.”
“How many hams do we have?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to go over to the smokehouse.” Annamae put her hand on his arm. “Do you want to take all that over at once?”
“Why not?”
“If they’ve not had food in a while, they might eat it all in one sitting and that will make them ill.”
“You’re right.”
“There is leftover ham and half a slab of salt pork at the house. Take that instead. Oh, and beans. Beans are always filling.”
“Thank you, Annie.” Baxter nodded, gathering the items she had mentioned into the wooden cart. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as they talked about limiting what he took over the first time. He didn’t even know if Midge would accept the offering, and if he gave away most of their supplies, what would that leave them to eat over the winter?
As if reading his thoughts, Annamae waved her hand. “We’ve not restocked yet because of all the rain. Everything is in the barn. We’ll be fine for winter.”
“Do you think they need anything else?”
“Let me think,” she said as they made their way back to the house. “Maybe you could bring them some milk and butter. And some bread.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“I’d go see Ma and Marmee. They’ll know what to do.”
“Marmee?” The idea of visiting the Chapman ranch embarrassed him, especially after the trouble between the two families.
“She’ll know what to do,” Annamae said.
Baxter lifted a woven wicker basket and tucked it into the back of an old wooden cart. He had to be careful not to disturb the contents. A bowl of eggs, fresh butter, jars of jam, honey, and pickled vegetables. There was a loaf of bread, salt, coffee, a few herbs, and a chunk of salt pork. After securing the baskets in place with some rope, he added the bag of corn cobs that Midge had dropped in her haste to get away from him.
He whistled for his horse, Knickers, who was already saddled and grazing on a patch of soggy grass near the barn. The horse trotted towards him and chuffed a greeting. He clutched the lead line, pulling himself up onto Knickers’ sturdy back before securing the line attached to the donkey.
“Come along, Daisy,” he said, tugging the gentle donkey toward the main path that would lead him to the Beale home. As he rode, he thought about Midge. Last night he didn’t get a good look at her, and what he saw looked like a cat that had found its way into the creek.
But when he lifted her off the ground, he felt her warm and soft body against his. In that moment, he would have done anything to keep her safe. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.It was not the time to be distracted.
As he rode toward her home, he couldn’t help but think of the longing in her eyes. The desperation of a girl trying to keep her family fed. He couldn’t imagine what that was like, having no parents and all those siblings to care for. It wasn’t his place to worry about her, after all. He needed to focus on his own family and their needs.
He arrived at the edge of the property along the ridge and grimaced.It was worse than he thought.
The Beale’s house was a dilapidated structure made of rough timber and odd materials scrounged from items travelers found too heavy to carry on their journeys west. The roof was sagging in some places, and there were holes in others. Someone had patched it with mismatched materials, and the chimney leaned precariously to one side. The paint, if there ever was any, had long since faded away, leaving the wood exposed to the elements.
The front porch sagged under the weight of rotting planks, which creaked and moaned with each step. Grimy windows emitted a low light, with cracked glass that made them look like they were perpetually fogged. From the outside, at least, it looked like a place that no one would want to call home. Baxter couldn’t imagine how eight children, and a young adult like Midge, could all fit in such a small and rundown home.
As his gaze swept across the terrain, it filled him with a sense of apprehension. If he hadn’t been there the night before, he would have ridden by and assumed the farm was abandoned. The fields were neglected, with weeds reaching up towards the sky, overtaking the once fertile ground.
Midge and her siblings were struggling to keep up with the work on the homestead.
He noticed the swayback horse, without a halter or lead, its tired frame grazing on a small patch of grass.
Snorting, he shook his head. No one was going to steal that horse. It was nearly worthless. There was a lean-to on one side of the house, and if he tilted his head, he could see that it was leaning almost to the ground. A tiny barn sat on the opposite side of the property. It seemed to be the sturdiest and most well-built structure on the land.
He could see a few children peeking out from behind the tattered curtains, watching him approach, their curious eyes on him as he pulled up beside the house. He dismounted and Daisy brayed her greeting to the children, who giggled and disappeared behind the curtain.
