Mary and I showed Rilla the rooms on the first floor and the clothes in the entry. Her adorable son ran around us in his fur. It was really hard not to play with him like he was a frisky puppy, which was totally how he acted.
They picked a room near the back of the house that Mary and I hadn’t yet swept. It also had no glass in the window. But Rilla didn’t seem to mind at all. She set the clothes they’d taken just inside the door, then she and the cub went off to find her husband. Thomas had offered to show the man the rest of the buildings.
As Mary and I walked to the common room, I thought of what we had to offer new families.
“It just doesn’t seem like clothes are enough,” I said, thinking aloud. “The men only wear pants because I asked. Would you be wearing clothes if Winifred hadn’t said something?”
“It’s getting cooler out at night, so probably.”
“Funny,” I said, knowing she was just being smart. “How can we make this place more comfortable for those who aren’t sure if they want to be a part of it or not? I know you were willing to sleep on the floor, but that’s going to be hard and cold in the winter.” But no worse than snow and frozen ground, I supposed.
“I like my bed. But if I had to choose what I like best about it, it would be the pillow. I could go back to sleeping on the floor if I had a pillow.”
“Then, we have our project for the day,” I said with a smile. “We’ll see if we can come up with a way to make some pillows.”
“Just so we don’t have to weed.”
When we pushed our way through the main room doors, the room was empty and the breakfast dishes waited. It had been a hectic morning. I didn’t know who to thank for getting up early to make the oatmeal. It wasn’t Mary. I’d pulled her from her bed so she could come with me to greet the new family.
I went to the stove and saw someone had been kind enough to put a pot of water there. It was already boiling. Mary and I got to work. Before we had half the dishes clean, Rilla and Ann joined us with their children. Together, we finished the dishes quickly.
Leif walked in from outside as we stacked the dried plates and bowls. In his arms, he carried a bunch of the reeds.
“If you’re finished with the trough, can I use it? Weaving works better if we keep this soft,” he said.
I nodded and watched him set them in the trough. He pumped some water and poured it over them.
“Ready?” he said with a smile.
“What are you doing?” Rilla asked, curiously eyeing the leaves.
“Leif is going to teach us how to make baskets so we can store things,” Mary said.
“I would love to learn that, too,” she said. Leif handed her several of the leaves and took a few more himself. They brought them over to the table.
“We’ll need to spread out to have enough space to work, but let me show you how to start.”
Before I could join the rest at the table and watch Leif, Gregory came in from outside.
“Not you two,” he said looking at Mary and me. “We’re going back to the marsh.”
Mary and I both groaned.
“What you brought back was a good start,” Leif said. “But we’ll need more to make enough baskets to store what’s in that garden. If you pick enough, we can make mats for the floor, too. And bring back whatever tops you can. It makes a soft stuffing.”
Gregory held the door, waiting while Mary and I shared a look. We’d both slept deeply because of the day before. I hadn’t asked her how her back felt, but the idea of spending another day doing the same thing made me want to run for my room. I was willing to bet she felt the same way.
Yet, going back to the marsh meant mats for people to sleep on and possibly stuffing for the pillows she and I had just talked about—Leif had probably overheard us. Making this place into a home would take some work, back-breaking, sweat-inducing work.
“Come on,” I said with a sigh.
Together, we walked out the door.
On the ground just outside, I saw two finished baskets. One was the baby’s and the other Leif must have made the night before. Mary picked up both and started following Gregory across the clearing.
I took two steps, then I found myself swept up from behind. I squealed and automatically wrapped my arms around Thomas’ neck. My pulse jumped as he grinned down at me.
His boyish smile and the amusement pouring from him warmed me.
“Ready?” he asked.
In his arms, I felt like I was ready for anything. I nodded, and he ran.
When I would have kicked off my shoes and stepped into the cattails, Thomas stopped me.
“It’s getting too cold for you to do that. You stay here and stack what we pick.”
Stacking the fronds the three of them pitched onto dry ground wasn’t very hard; but within an hour, my back wanted to quit. I stretched, twisting this way and that, in an effort to relieve the ache.