Fields of Gold Beneath Prairie Skies Page 16

  “Why don’t you let me try, Maman?” Pol asked.

  Lea looked up from where she sat on the sofa. How tall her son had grown. Maybe hauling water had done him good, but he was still a child. “It’s too hard for you, Pol,” she said.

  “No, let me try,” he insisted. “I noticed she cries less if you hold her a certain way.”

  “Give him a chance,” said Napoleon. “Maybe she’ll respond to him better. You never know. Besides, you could use a break.”

  “All right then.” Lea surrendered Baby Claire to her son.

  Pol took the little girl and laid her tummy against his while her head rested against the crook of his elbow, her little arm dangling below. “Now give me the nipple.”

  Lea unscrewed the top of the bottle and handed it to him.

  Claire whimpered at first, let out a few angry cries, then quieted down.

  “I think it’s because she gets tummy aches,” said Pol, walking the baby about the room. “And if you press on her tummy hard enough, it stops hurting. Kind of like a hot water bottle.”

  Lea watched her son in awe at the magical effect he had on Claire. She exchanged a grateful look with Nap. “He really has a way with babies, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  The blizzard ended a few days later, only to be followed by another and another, the temperatures so low all they could do was huddle by the stove, drinking hot liquids and wearing as much clothing as possible.

  “How is Pol going to go to school?” Lea asked, when a couple of weeks had passed. “With all these storms, we can’t get him there. He’s going to fall behind.”

  Nap tapped his pipe into the fire and refilled it with tobacco. “Well, I’m not doing anything until spring. I could teach him. His school books are here.”

  “But your English isn’t very good, though.” Lea giggled.

  “What other choice do we have?”

  For the next few weeks, Lea enjoyed listening to Nap teach in his strong Quebecois accent while Pol repeated the words in perfect English. How well they worked together.

  When the blizzards came to an end, Nap hitched up Old Dick and Belle to the cutter to take his family to mass.

  The air was frosty, the drifts flowing in straight, perfect lines over fences, reaching to rooftops and nearly covering buildings. Lea breathed in the crisp air. Its coldness burned her lungs. She covered her face with her scarf, allowing the heat of her breath to reduce the sting. Her gaze wandered to the horses that pulled the cutter. How emaciated they were, and how weak. Her heart ached for them.

  When they arrived at the church, Lea saw a familiar figure from afar entering with Cécile. It was Madame Gilbert!

  “They must be visiting,” she said, reaching down to help Lilian from under the blanket where the heated bricks kept her warm.

  “They probably never left after Christmas because there have been so many blizzards.”

  Descending with Claire held close to her bosom, Lea hurried over to greet her friends.

  “Lea!” Madame Gilbert’s arms opened wide. “So this is the new baby.” She pushed back Claire’s blanket for a peak. Her expression of admiration turned to one of concern. “Her face is so thin. Has she not been putting on weight?”

  Lea’s heart fell. “I don’t know, Madame Gilbert. I’ve been so worried. I don’t seem to have enough milk for her. We switched her to the Jersey’s milk and all she ever does is cry. And I’m so exhausted.”

  “Have you been to see Dr. Lupien?”

  Lea shook her head, a helpless gesture. “Not with all these blizzards. It’s been impossible. Pol hasn’t even been to school.”

  Madame Gilbert pressed her lips together in thought. “You know, I’ve heard of a Dr. Bates in Bracken. It’s closer than Ponteix. He has a baby clinic, and he’s been known to do wonders.”

  Lea shot a glance at Nap. “Yes, but we don’t have the money.”

  “Never mind the money. We’ll lend it to you. You can pay us back as soon as this year’s crops pan out.”

  Lea turned to Nap as though asking his permission.

  He nodded. “Would you really do that for us?”

  “Of course. Just as I would if it were Cécile’s baby.”

  “Then we’ll take her today,” he said. “I don’t want to bury another child.”

  After mass, Nap loaded his family onto the cutter and drove the horses into a canter all the way home. Then he packed little Claire under his coat and took her to Bracken.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Dark Cloud

  For the next six weeks, Lea did her best to keep herself busy making her bread, doing laundry, and sewing clothing for the family to keep from worrying about Claire. But she couldn’t stop wondering how her little girl was doing in the hospital. Did she miss them? Did she cry herself to sleep every night, calling for Maman? Did Nurse Cameron cuddle her the way Pol did?

  But Lea had other pressing issues to contend with, like how to clothe her children on such a tiny income since the crop had failed. She’d given up on the idea of ordering clothes from the Eaton’s catalogue with their meagre income, yet she couldn’t afford to buy fabric from the general store either.

  The answer came to her one morning while filling the flour box when she stopped and eyed the cloth of the sack. How pretty the fabric was—flowers—and made of cotton too. What a lovely dress this would make for one of the girls. And didn’t the other sacks have patterns too? Curious, she lifted the latch under the rug and descended to the cellar, a lantern in hand, where she examined the small pile of bags. They too came in every type of pattern imaginable—plaid, bunnies, stripes, cowboys, baby ducks, and even paisley. But how could she make clothing with this fabric when there was a big logo on it? “Sunbonnet Blue Flour,” she read. Perhaps she could use only the back part of the bag.

  Still intrigued by her discovery, she slipped on her shoes and coat and went to the barn where she knew more discarded piles of empty sacks lay. Again, she admired the various patterns. Picking one up, she found directions on the back.

  To Wash Out Ink

  Soak overnight in soap suds and water. Then wash thoroughly in warm soap suds until ink has been loosened. Rinse well, and if necessary, boil for 10 minutes to restore the natural whiteness of the cloth.

  Lea let out a triumphant laugh. “So that’s how you do it. The companies have known all along how tough times are, so they created special fabrics we can make clothes with.”

  Enlightened, Lea gathered up all the sacks and slung them over her shoulder. When she got back to the house, she pulled out the old tub and scrubbed them one by one until all the logos had disappeared, then hung them to dry.

  When Nap came home that night, he found the cabin draped with every kind of cloth imaginable. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “I found some fabric to make everyone’s clothing with,” said Lea, pasting on a clever grin.

  “But where?”

  “It was in the barn and the cellar the whole time.”

  “The barn and the cellar?” Nap gave her a puzzled look.

  “Mm-hm.”

  “What? How?” He threw up his arms.

  Lea explained to him about the sacking, then showed him the directions on how to remove the logo.

  Nap eyed the cloth, and then the children. Letting out a quiet chuckle, he placed a hand over her ear and whispered, “No one will know we’re poor now.”

  Lea spent long hours cutting, pinning, and piecing together shirts and dresses for the family. She was surprised when she discovered some bags even came with sewing patterns on the back side! Using the fabric with the horse images, she made a large shirt for Nap and a smaller one for Pol.

  “Like father like son,” she said to herself, smiling.

  She created matching dresses for herself and Lilian—red flowers on a blue background to match the beautiful prairie sky!

  “These will be so cute to go to mass.”

  But when she came to the cloth that had
marching baby ducks, she saved it to make larger nappies for Claire since surely she’d come back from the hospital healthy and strong…or at least she hoped so. Her throat caught and tears threatened to form in her eyes. If only they’d receive word from the doctor, but Nap came home every day from the post office empty-handed. Could that mean good news?

  ***

  When things warmed up, Nap set out to recapture the horses they’d set free in the fall. It took him two days to find them, but when he brought them home, a wave of pity swept over Lea. They were so thin, the hair of their manes and tails matted.

  “Poor things!” she cried, as she reached a hand to the bay mare.

  The horse pranced and snorted as though she’d never known Lea.

  “It’s okay, Queen. We’re old friends.”

  The horse backed away nonetheless. Lea coaxed the animal with a carrot laid flat in the palm of her hand until the mare allowed her to stroke its cheek.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” she asked Napoleon, as the horse munched noisily. “How are we going to feed them?”

  Napoleon let out a frustrated sigh. “I guess we’ll give them the same mixture as the other horses and the Jersey, at least until the rains begin and the grass grows again.” He slipped the halter over the mare’s head and tied it, then paused a moment as though remembering something painful. “You know, they’re not so bad off compared to some of the livestock I saw.”

  “How so?”

  “There was one horse who was so bone thin, he tried to gnaw the mane of another thinking it was hay.”

  “How terrible.”

  “I just hope whoever owns them brings them in soon before they’ve starved to death.”

  For a brief time, the grass did rise as the snow melted and the earth warmed. The horses did grow plumper, their matted hair shedding with the return of the summer.

  One day, while watching Nap re-break the horses, the sound of an automobile in the distance caught Lea’s attention.

  “Who on earth?” she asked, craning her neck to see.

  Seeming tiny at first, the black vehicle inched its way up the road until it stopped near the house. When the doors opened, a man stepped out, followed by a woman carrying a child in her arms.

  “It’s Dr. Bates and Nurse Cameron!” exclaimed Nap.

  “And he’s got Claire with him!” shouted Pol, breaking into a run.

  “Claire!” called Lilian.

  The whole family crowded around the automobile to see the little girl.

  “She’s gotten so fat,” said Pol.

  “How on earth?” Lea reached out for her red-headed baby.

  “It’s because she was having trouble digesting the milk from your cow,” said Dr. Bates. “It’s too rich for her.”

  “But everyone knows that Jersey milk is…the richest of all.” Lea’s voice trailed off on the last few words. “Then what should we feed her?”

  “Well,” said the doctor, “if you get regular Holstein milk, she should be just fine.”

  “That’s easy enough,” said Nap. “We’ll trade milk with one of the neighbours.”

  “Oh, and by the way,” said Nurse Cameron, coming alongside them, “Claire’s become a little Shirley Temple.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Lea, searching for similarities between her daughter and the child movie star.

  “She won second place in the Bracken Baby Clinic Competition!”

  “The Bracken Baby Clinic Competition?” Lea’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

  “It’s a contest we have every year,” explained Dr. Bates. “After we cure whatever ails the babies, we have a little competition to determine who’s the cutest and healthiest of them all. And Claire came in second. Here’s a photo.”

  Lea took the picture from the nurse and let out a laugh. “That’s adorable!”

  “What?” asked Lilian. “Let me see.”

  “Me too,” said Pol.

  She passed the photograph around to the others. “She’s wearing a little bathing suit. Look at her chubby legs.

  “Aw, so cute!” said Lilian.

  “She is a little like Shirley Temple,” said Pol.

  “How can we ever thank you?” asked Lea. “We were so scared we’d lose her and you’ve plumped her up like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

  “It’s what we do. But just remember—Holstein milk.”

  “I promise.”

  After Nap signed the release papers, Dr. Bates and his nurse climbed back into the car and drove away. Lea watched as they disappeared over the horizon, then carried Claire back to the house, content to have her little girl home.

  From then on, Nap milked the Jersey each morning, then sent Pol on horseback to the Devlins, the next homestead over, to exchange a bucketful. Claire continued to flourish, her weak, despondent cries now replaced by smiles and giggles.

  When the weather warmed enough, Nap planted his crop, anticipating its success, but was devastated when again the rains halted and the soil began to drift, piling ever so high against buildings and fences. But worse still, something more ominous threatened the farm this year—the water in the slough dried up to the point where it was no longer possible to dip a bucket in.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Lea. “I won’t be able to save the garden this year if we have no water.”

  Nap pressed his lips together and shook his head as he mulled over the direness of the situation. “I’ll go see if I can get some from the Devlins. I noticed their slough is much fuller than ours. I’m sure they’ll be glad to spare some.”

  “But that’s so much work.”

  Napoleon shrugged. “What choice do we have? I’m not giving up. I promised you golden fields, and that’s what I’m going to give you. I’ll go every day and bring water back, enough for your garden and enough to keep one field of wheat healthy. That way we’ll at least have a small crop.”

  “Then I’ll help you,” said Lea, her voice marked with determination.

  After receiving permission from the Devlins, Lea took on the daily job of loading the vessels onto the wagon—two barrels, an empty topless beer keg, and a thirty-gallon steel container while Nap hitched up Old Dick and Belle. When she’d placed them all on the wagon, she laid pieces of wood in each one to stop the water from splashing once it had been collected. There was no sense in watering the wagon trail.

  When Nap returned an hour later, Lea helped him unload the containers, her muscles straining as together they lowered the water to the ground. “Come on, Pol,” ordered Lea. “If you want to eat this winter, you’d better help.”

  “Why doesn’t Lilian have to help?” asked Pol, his face sullen. “It’s not fair.”

  “Because she’s looking after Claire.”

  Pol obeyed, his face in a scowl as he dipped a smaller container into the larger vessel, walked to the garden, and dumped it at the base of the plants.

  When they’d finished, Nap placed his arm about his son’s shoulder. “Pol, you’re getting to be quite the young man, and I’m really proud of you. And because of that, I’m giving you another job in addition to exchanging the milk for Claire.”

  Pol’s shoulders dropped and he let out a huff.

  “I want you to water the livestock each morning and night at the Devlin’s coulee.”

  Pol raised his head, looking relieved. “Is that all?”

  “That’s all.”

  “Phew. I thought you were going to get me to plow the fields for you.”

  “I’ll help too,” said Lilian. “And we can bring Claire with us.”

  Napoleon sent his daughter a look of approval. “Good girl. The more the merrier.”

  And so the month of June continued, each family member contributing to the survival of the farm. The small field of wheat held its own as did the garden. Then one day, near the beginning of June, Lea spied a dark cloud on the horizon while watering the potatoes. “What’s that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen a brown cloud before.”

  Nap s
tared in the distance, climbed one of the hills beside the pasture, and stretched his head forward while shading his eyes. “I don’t know, but I sure don’t like the look of that. We’d better finish up.”

  “Quickly, children!” Lea called. “We have to work twice as fast.”

  They ran in every direction, drawing water and dumping it on the soil.

  The wind picked up speed, the cloud swallowing up the sky as it crept closer and closer. Their hair and clothes were tossed about as the wind grew stronger.

  Pol let out a cry. “Ow! Something’s in my eye. It hurts!”

  “What is it?” asked Lea, but before Pol could answer, thousands of little pins seemed to pierce her skin. She covered her face. “What’s going on?”

  “I think it’s a dust storm!” shouted Nap. “Quick, get inside!” He ran to the pasture where the restless livestock pranced and trotted about nervously and shooed them into the barn. Lea snatched Claire in her arms. After a dash for the door, she waited until the other kids caught up, opened it, ushering them inside with a quick hand before entering and slamming the door. Then she waited for Nap, opening it for only an instant so he could slip in.

  Within minutes, the entire house was surrounded by howling winds. Brown dust lashed the windows, scraping the glass.

  “What do we do now?” asked Pol, staring out the window.

  “We just have to wait it out,” said Nap.

  “How long?” asked Pol, his brows furrowed.

  “Don’t know. It could last for days.”

  “Days?” Lea held Claire close to her bosom.

  “It’s like a blizzard, only this time it’s dust,” said Nap.

  “Well, at least it’s not cold,” said Lilian.

  They huddled for a time watching the furious winds outside until Lea ran a finger along the table. It left a trail. “It’s getting in everywhere.”