“No,Igot the eggs,” Ivy corrected, pointing to herself.
Lillian slouched and lowered her head. “I put them in the basket.”
Travis nodded, lowering himself into his seat beside Lillian. “Well, I am proud of you gals. Gathering eggs is a very important job. We wouldn’t have breakfast in the morning without you two.”
“Aunt Polly said she’ll give me a nickel when she sells them at Mr. Lynde’s store,” Ivy announced.
Travis looked up at Aunt Polly, raising his brow.
“They earned it,” she said, bouncing Gideon on her lap.
Travis cleared his throat and patted the table. “So long as you work hard, you’ll keep earning your nickels.”
“What ‘bout me?” Jonas asked. “Can I have a nickel, too?”
“It’s not your job,” Ivy scolded with thinned eyes. “You gotta keep muckin’ the stalls.”
Jonas folded his arms and wrinkled his nose. “I hate muckin’ the stalls. Pa, can I please do somethin’ else?”
“Mucking out the stalls is important too, Jonas. Without you, the barn would smell worse than it does.”
The children let out loud, collective giggles.
“But can I get paid?” Jonas asked, his eyes bright.
Travis sighed. Jonas was a good kid and hardly ever got into too much trouble. Travis wished he could pay the boy or spoil him with an award, but with Josephine’s arrival, money would be tight until harvest.
“I bet your sisters would be glad to share their nickels with you.”
Ivy and Lillian groaned.
“But Pa—” Ivy whined.
“I won’t hear it,” Travis said sharply, rubbing his face. As much as he loved his children, their bickering caused his temples to beat. Oh, what he’d give sometimes for peace and quiet after along day's work. But he’d rather have his children at the table instead of sitting alone, grieving over the empty spaces. “Your brother works hard, too, and he needs a little reward.”
Ivy’s bottom lip quivered. “But my paint. I was saving for paint.”
Travis frowned. Travis’s heart cracked as Ivy’s disappointment spilled across her face, her eyes glistening. Ivy had always dreamed of the day she’d have paint, but that day had never come, slipping through her fingers like sand.
“We’ll get you paint soon, Ivy. I promise.”
Her lips curved into a small smile.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but our supper is going to get cold,” Aunt Polly warned, folding her hands into prayer position.
Travis nodded. “I agree. Lillian, would you like to say the blessing?”
The child smiled and bowed her head. “Dear God, thank you for our food, thank you for the water from the well, and the chickens that give us eggs, our horses, because without them we’d have to walk a long way to town, and please let our wheat grow big and tall so we can make lots of money and Ivy can get her paint. Amen.”
“Amen,” Aunt Polly said with a slight chuckle in her voice.
The children and Aunt Polly dug into their food immediately, but Travis barely touched his plate, the heaviness in his stomach making it hard to eat. Gideon squirmed in Aunt Polly’s lap, letting out a squeal as he patted the table. Travis sucked in a breath then exhaled. Gideon needed a mother. He observed the rest of his children. All of them did. Aunt Polly was an excellent help, but the children didn’t need just help—they needed maternal guidance, a light into the home that would fill their empty hearts.
Travis pushed his stew aside and decided to let loose of the secret that was nearly eating him alive. “Children, I have something I need to speak with you about. It’s very important.”
The room went silent as little eyes were upon him. Travis tugged the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. “Earlier this year, I put an advertisement in the newspaper about finding a new wife.” He stopped, studying their confused faces. Heat crawled up his neck. “A month ago, I received a reply. Her name is Josephine Callahan, and she will be coming here in a few weeks.” Travis could barely form the words from his mouth. His stomach twisted while he prepared himself to say them. “She will marry me and be your new ma.”
The children stayed silent. Jonas and Lillian were too young to understand, their innocent faces reflecting confusion. But Ivy was old enough; her face turned as white as a sheet, fear dawning in her eyes. Aunt Polly shot Travis a look that urged him to continue.
