Jane heard hoofbeats and looked toward the trail. “Here comes Ben now. He and Pa are just getting around.” Beyond Ben, she could see Pa slowly riding her horse down from the cave.
Ben jumped from his saddle and let his mount’s reins trail. “Howdy, Crockett. Dr.—Travis. Thanks for coming.”
Travis Hart grinned and stuck out his hand to shake Ben’s. “Morning, Ben. Now, don’t you start saying ‘Mr. Hart’ today, or you’re likely to get six or eight answers. Let’s us and the boys start unloading this lumber.”
Things happened fast after that—too fast for Jane to keep up. While the Harts and their men began unloading studs and beams under Ben’s uneasy direction, another wagon pulled in. Mr. Allen had brought a load of planks and siding boards, along with four hired men and his thirteen-year-old son, Billy. Mrs. Allen, her two girls, and their foreman’s wife followed in a buggy, bringing food. A few minutes later, three of the Hart boys’ wives rolled up with more food.
Jane took a deep breath and greeted the ladies, thanking them for coming and for contributing.
“That dress looks wonderful on you,” Annie said with a smile.
Self-consciously, Jane touched the buttons at the neck. “Do you think so?”
“I know so.”
Jane helped them set up a makeshift table using sawhorses and boards that would later go into the new house, and then they arranged the food. It kept coming as more families arrived—stewed beans, rolls, corn bread, sourdough, biscuits, roast beef, fried chicken, roast chicken, smoked ham, meat loaf, burritos, carrots, sweet potatoes, collard greens, succotash, and pickles. And pies. Jane lost count of the pies.
The Hart wives seemed to know what to do with it. In fact, Jane had the impression that all of them were used to large gatherings and entertaining in general. She tried to push down her shyness and smile the way Coralee and Annie did when other people spoke to them. Mostly, people smiled back, and she began to feel that they were actually glad to be here. Maybe they were happy to have a reason to neglect their own chores for once.
Somewhere during the morning, she noted that Mr. GW Hart himself arrived with two more of his sons.
Pa browsed about, throwing out comments to the neighbors who had snubbed him in the past and filching food from the baskets and platters. He hadn’t had breakfast, Jane reminded herself, and she refrained from scolding him. The visitors seemed to exercise restraint as well. She didn’t hear one of them say anything scornful to her father. In fact, Emma Hart laughed gaily when she caught him sneaking a cookie from a basketful of them that Mrs. Allen had brought.
Jane fought back the discomfort that came with having other folks notice her and do good deeds for her family. They would have a new house, and it would be clean. The roof wouldn’t leak when these folks got done with it. When she saw a small wood-burning stove in the back of the Mortensons’ wagon, she caught her breath. They needed a stove, for sure, but would the mercantile owner expect them to pay for it? That was a large gift.
Meribeth Mortenson walked toward her, smiling. Her blond hair looked soft and fluffy around her face. “Hello, Jane. I hope you don’t mind.” Meribeth smiled apologetically and waved toward the wagon where her husband and Crockett and Hays Hart were unloading the small box stove. “We used to have that thing in the storeroom, but we’ve got another now. Michael had stuck it out in the barn, but when Crockett told me you had to fix all your meals over a campfire, I thought maybe you could put it to good use.”
“Oh, Mrs. Mortenson—”
“Meribeth.”
Jane swallowed and nodded. “Thank you kindly. That’s … that’s quite a gift. Or…? Do you want it back later?”
“Heavens, no. You keep it as long as it’s useful. If you get a cookstove one day, pass that on to someone else.”
“Thank you.” Jane’s mother had always cooked in the fireplace, and Pa had promised many times to buy her a stove, but there was never enough money. Odd that they got a stove after all their worldly belongings were burnt up. It didn’t have a bake oven, but even so, her life would be a lot easier now.
She went back to help the others set out the food. Annie Hart smiled at her. “Crockett said some folks had come around yesterday with some lumber and coffee.”
“They did, and a lot of people said they’d come today.” Jane smiled apologetically, thinking of one small gesture among many. “Crockett brought us a couple of tin cups to go with the coffee, and I was so grateful. Emma and Hays had sent over a coffeepot, but I guess no one thought about cups.”
“Oh my goodness. You should have mentioned it.”
“We made out all right,” Jane said. “I don’t like to ask for stuff.”
“Of course not, but—honey, is there anything else basic that you need?”
“I can’t think of anything right off.” There were so many things they could use, but making their needs known made Jane feel like a beggar.