It was time to prepare supper and bake for tomorrow's company.
Daniel avoided looking at Mary at the supper table and nothing was said about the incident. Mary truly believed that he was sorry. She, however, was reprimanded for getting her apron dirty, but Mary had anticipated the scolding. With all that had happened that day, a few more harsh words did not make any difference.
Mrs. Jacques admitted to being unusually fatigued that evening and introduced Mary to yet another task. “When I'm tired like this, I like to have my hair combed,” she said. Her dark, thick straight hair was coiled on top of her head in a bun. She removed several hairpins and the long, black mane fell halfway down her back. It became Mary's job to comb and brush her hair until Mrs. Jacques felt satisfied.
And so she sat in her wheelchair by the stove and Mary stood behind her and brushed and combed, sometimes for as long as an hour, while the others pursued their own activities. Frequently, Mr. Jacques went to the barn since smoking was not allowed in the house.
“I'll let you know when you may stop.”
Mary's arms ached and if she slowed down she would be reminded of her job. “I can't feel it. Press harder with the comb or there's no point in doing it.”
When she was finally given permission to go to bed, Mary was relieved to be alone in her little loft. She longed to hold the barn cat in her arms and fell asleep dreaming about Cat.
Mary found the rhythmic purr of her feline friend soothing. The cat burrowed further under her bent elbow and finally rested its head on her chest. The soft little belly rose and fell as it drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly and without warning, the cat sprang to life and jumped off her body. She had forgotten where she was, of course, the hayloft. The sun was beaming in through open boards. It was far too glorious a day to waste sleeping.
“You're so smart” , she said, peering over the loft at a pair of big green eyes staring up at her. “We should be out in the sun, not stuck here in this loft.” Mary ran to the ladder and climbed down. She slowly pulled the barn door open and before she could step out, the cat slid past her and was gone, moving so fast that Mary was even uncertain as to which direction it had gone.
Her instinct told her the cat probably headed for the grove of trees beyond Mama's clothesline. She ran up the small hill, half expecting to see Will and John playing ball in the clearing but they weren't there. And neither was the cat.
“Cat, where did you go? I know you're hiding. Come on out, Cat, wherever you are.”
She was getting annoyed. “Let's go back to the house. Mama might have a treat for us.” Cat loved Mama's treats, fresh cream or bread and honey. She heard a sound, thought she saw something and reached out to grab it. “Now I've got you,” she laughed.
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