on, girl.” He should give her a name, something Daed would never do. Searching his memory of other horse names, he decided on one. “Come on, Brownie.”
Not much of a name. He stretched the carrot out toward her, wiggling it between his fingers. She took another step forward.
“You’ll like this carrot.” He tried another name. “Come on, Mabel.”
She snorted.
“All right then. Tilly.”
She swiveled her ears back and then forward again.
“Have a carrot, Tilly.” The name fit. He took a step toward her. “Come on, Tilly-girl. You’ll like it.”
He held the carrot half on his outstretched hand and she picked it up, lipping it into her mouth. She stood, crunching the carrot as he grasped her halter. He gave her the other half.
She pulled wisps of hay from her manger as he brushed her lightly. She needed more than just grass to live on if he wanted her to become the kind of horse the other farmers kept. Sadie kept oats on hand and gave Chester a measured amount every day, rather than the hit-or-miss rations he gave Tilly. Sadie’s horse thrived on her care.
So he would need to buy oats for the mare. Samuel held up the old brush, inspecting the matted and bent bristles. And he needed to buy a new brush. And a currycomb.
Taking care of this horse was going to cost money.
When Tilly finished her hay, he turned her out into the pasture again and grabbed the manure fork. He hauled forkfuls of soiled straw out to the pasture and started a pile. Somewhere in the past he remembered a manure pile in this spot. Mamm had used the soiled bedding on her garden after it had mellowed over the winter.
By the time he finished emptying the stall and spreading it with the last of the clean straw he had on hand, it was time for breakfast. The aroma of bacon frying pulled him to the house.
The girls didn’t look up when he walked into the kitchen after washing up on the back porch.
“Good morning.” Samuel broke the silence, and Esther stared at him in surprise. He didn’t blame her. When had he ever greeted her in the morning?
Judith placed a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table with a smile. “Good morning, Samuel.”
He started to reach for the platter of bacon, then remembered. He waited for Judith and Esther to take their seats, and then bowed his head for the silent prayer.
He had never prayed during this time, but had always let his mind wander while he waited for Daed’s signal to eat. But this morning, as the aroma of the bacon teased his hunger, he felt a nudge of guilt. Did his sisters pray during this moment of silence?
After the right amount of time had passed, Samuel cleared his throat just as Daed had always done, and reached for the bacon.
“Some coffee, Samuel?” Esther stood at his elbow with the coffee pot.
Samuel nodded, his mouth full. She poured his coffee and then her own and Judith’s. Her wrists, sticking out too far from the sleeves of her faded dress, were thin. The hollow places under her cheekbones were shadowed and gray.
Esther had been keeping house for him since Annie got married and before that had taken on her share of the work, just as Judith did now. Her brow was creased, as if she wore a perpetual frown at the young age of twenty-one. He had never noticed that before.
Not before he had met Mary. Tall and slim, Mary looked healthy and strong. Compared to her, Judith and Esther reminded him of last year’s dry weeds along the fence.
Samuel shifted in his chair, the eggs tasting like dust in his mouth. The sight of the bacon on his plate turned his stomach. A sudden vision filled his memory. Sitting at this same table, watching Daed fill his plate with food, leaving just enough for the rest of the family to share between them. Daed eating the last piece of bacon every morning. And Mamm at the other end of the table, her face as thin and gray as Esther’s, nibbling at a piece of toast.
Neither Judith nor Esther had taken any of the scrambled eggs but were eating toast with a bit of jam. Normally, Samuel would take two or three helpings of eggs and empty the platter of bacon. He pushed the bowl of eggs in their direction.
“I can’t eat all of this. You take some.”
Esther startled and looked at him, her eyes wide. “Did I fix too many eggs?”
He shook his head. “I’m just not as hungry this morning. You and Judith can eat them. Don’t let them go to waste.”
The girls glanced at each other, then Esther divided the last of the eggs between them. Judith dug in to hers eagerly.
“The bacon, too.” Samuel pushed the platter in their direction. He had already eaten half of what Esther had prepared.
He drank his coffee, the bitter liquid hitting his stomach with a burn. The girls did without decent food and clothes...but whenever he had extra cash, he bought whatever he thought he needed. He stared at Esther’s thin wrists. Just like Daed had done, he made his sisters make do with whatever was left over after he had taken what he wanted.
Samuel loosened his fingers carefully from his tight grip on the coffee cup. He had been so blind. No different from Daed.
“This afternoon I’ll take you girls to town.”
They exchanged looks.
“You don’t need to do that,” Esther said. “We don’t need anything.”
“I know you need groceries.”
“We have no money.”
“I’ll take one of the hogs to sell at the butcher.” Samuel drained his cup and rose from the table. “So make a list. I’m going over to Sadie’s this morning, and then we’ll head to town right after dinner.”
Samuel took the path that led from the back of the barn through the fence row to Sadie’s place. A well-worn path that he had traveled ever since he had been old enough to chore. Daed hadn’t cared whether Sadie’s chores were done or not, but Grossdawdi had drilled the habit of shouldering the responsibility into Bram and Samuel.
Grossdawdi Abe. Not the grossdawdi far away, Mamm’s parents, but Daed’s father. The old man had lived in the room off the kitchen for as long as Samuel could remember, until he became sick with fever fifteen years ago. Grossdawdi Abe had called Samuel and Bram into his room one afternoon when Daed was away.
“I want you boys to promise...” He had broken off, coughing, but then continued, “Promise me you’ll look after Sadie Beiler. You boys are big enough to remember. Make sure her chores are done.”
Then he had grasped Samuel’s wrist and pulled him close.
“Promise me.”
Samuel had nodded his promise. And he had kept his promise, even though Bram had forgotten. Every week, no matter what else happened, he was at Sadie’s farm to do the chores he couldn’t bring himself to do around Daed’s farm.
Choring on Daed’s
