Lucy muttered something under her breath, but it was lost inside the scarf covering her mouth. She took the handle of the wagon and trudged glumly out the door with the wagon wheels squeaking their protest. Lynn followed, warned Lucy to stay in the yard, then made her way to the wood cords on the east side of the house.
They would make it through the winter. The basement retained heat well, especially once she dropped the woolen blanket that covered the entrance to the pantry room. There wouldn’t be much excess firewood to rely on for the next fall, which made cutting in the summer a must. How she would manage to leave the house to cut was a question she didn’t have a good answer to. The pond could not be left unguarded. She’d probably have to trade labor with Stebbs again, and even though she didn’t like the idea of needing him, the feeling of shame that usually erupted at having to ask for help had subsided a bit.
Self-reliance had been Mother’s mantra. Nothing was more important than themselves and their belongings. Allowing Lucy into their home had gone against everything she’d learned, but leaving the little girl to die beside the stream went against something that was simply known and had never been taught. She’d shared the thought with Stebbs after they worked on Lucy’s feet. He told her it was her conscience, guiding her to the right decision.
Having a conscience was a new experience, and one Lynn was starting to question as she regarded the sullen child tossing twigs into the rusty red wagon. Lucy would have to go back. Eli and Neva had shelter now; a few days ago, Lucy had come running down to the pond, the armload of sticks threatening to take an eye out if she fell.
“Lynn—there’s a truck coming down the road!”
Such a nonsensical comment had brought Lynn to her feet, sidearm in hand. They’d rushed to the roof together, Lynn impatiently smacking the little girl’s backside when she’d balked twenty feet up. The sound of an engine had been noticeable on the cold morning air, and Lynn chided herself for not hearing it sooner. She’d been distracted by the looming handle of the water bucket that should be ebbing and flowing peacefully far beneath the surface of the pond, not mere inches from it.
The hum of the engine grew louder and Lynn saw that Lucy was right. There was a truck coming, Stebbs behind the wheel. As he passed, she saw that the bed held a chain saw and raw lumber. He waved happily, throwing his arms up in mock surrender when he saw Lynn’s gun. Lucy jumped up and down, waving back ecstatically.
“What’s he doin’?” Lucy asked.
“Looks like he’s going to build your mama a house.”
Lucy stood on her tiptoes to watch as Stebbs disappeared down the road. “He’s kinda like magic, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Lynn had smiled a little in spite of herself. “Kinda.”
No amount of coercing would convince Lynn to visit the new home by the stream. “I’m sure it’s great,” she assured Stebbs as he regarded her over a shared supper in the basement. He’d brought beans with him and offered to help Lynn cut down the cured venison from the trees. It seemed rude to let him walk off into the cold evening without a warm supper. The venison had been frozen, but a few chunks cooked up nicely on the stove with the beans. Lucy sat on her cot, running her finger along the inside of the bean can to get the last bits of sauce.
Stebbs watched her for a second before continuing. “It’s better than great. Tiny, on account of we tossed it up so fast, but Eli had a good idea. There’s a loft where they can sleep so they don’t have to roll up their bedding every morning. Wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to build, but there was some sense in it, ’cause there’s not much floor space.”
Lynn stared moodily down at her supper. The idea of Neva and Eli snuggled together in the loft made her stomach feel funny in a way that wasn’t related to hunger.
“That Eli, he’s a worker. Give him some food and it gets turned into pure muscle. I’m telling you, Lynn, you wouldn’t recognize the boy from the first time you saw him.”
She grunted and studied her food.
“Then I got lucky and found an old woodstove over to the junkyard. Nothing pretty, but it’s not too big.” He took a bite of venison, and Lynn welcomed the moment of silence while he chewed.
Stebbs swallowed. “Cut a hole in the roof and run some piping up there and they were home, neat as pins. Doesn’t have a door though. The stove, not the house. I told them they’ll have to watch for sparks flying out of there ’til I can fix it.”
“Until you can fix it?”
“Sure, why not?” He took another bite of meat and spoke with his mouth full. “I got nothing else to do. You’re not exactly begging for help.”
“I don’t need any.”
“I see that.” He motioned toward the well-stocked pantry and the full clean water tank beyond that. “You’ll be setting even better once the little missy is off your hands.”
“Off my hands?”
“Sure.” Stebbs wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Now that there’s a real home over there, with her mother in it.”