laughing. But she also felt she needed to point something out. “That was a temporary solution to his problem. That poor old man is so riddled with arthritis; nothing will take away his pain for long.”
That opened a door Poppa couldn’t pass by. “Oh, he’ll be so disappointed when you have to touch his knees again. He’ll probably hit himself with a hammer, just so he has to come and see you again!”
Whap! Momma snapped him right in the rump with the towel.
“Ouch! You took a chunk out!” Poppa grabbed the towel from Eliza’s hands, she was laughing too hard to protest, and started to twist it.
“Oooo...I’m going to get you...!” He tried to sound menacing, but the room was shaking with laughter.
Hixson and Charlton sat out on the porch smiling like two indulgent grandfathers, listening to the young ones play. Charlton nudged Hixson with his elbow and whispered, “Here’s where it starts, I guess. First Old Man Haught, next thing you know, every man in town will be in love with your pretty wife.”
“She is lovable, it’s true. As long as she don’t fall in love back, it’s alright with me.” Hixson grinned.
“We both know that ain’t never going to happen. You’re the only one she sees.” Charlton replied, the laughter in his voice replaced by mild envy.
“It surprises me some that she didn’t get sick or anything. You know how it makes her sick to lay her hands on the bad ones. I always thought he was the meanest man alive. To tell you the truth, I was watching close, sure that his withered old heart would make Sarah sick. Guess there must be some good in him, after all.” Hixson said.
A crashing sound and a peal of laughter came from the house, followed by the chorus of everyone laughing.
“I reckon we better go put a stop to that, before Momma and Poppa break the furniture.” Hixson said, and stood up.
Charlton patted his shoulder and they went in. Annie had handed the baby to Sarah. She held him high on her shoulder to pat up a bubble and rocked him a little. Everyone was still smiling from the banter.
Eliza was smiling, but she was a little embarrassed that her parents still acted like that in front of people. Sarah was mightily amused by Momma and Poppa, and she loved holding her nephew, but she was still troubled.
Would she never have a baby of her own? It seemed to her like the thought never left her. It buzzed around in her head like a trapped mosquito. Whatever she was doing, anytime of day, the question came to her mind. She felt like she was driving herself insane for worrying about it. And yet, she knew that worrying about it made it even less likely to happen.
With all of her strength, Sarah tried to put the notion away. It will happen when it’s supposed to, she told herself. Meanwhile, Hixson prayed that it wouldn’t happen, and felt like he was betraying her for wishing such a thing.
June 15th, 1866 --Dover Pennsylvania
Sarah picked the last of the string beans. It was too hot for beans already and the plants were dying. She sat in the shade and snapped them, while she talked to Towzer D.
“Hot day to be wearing a black fur coat, ain’t it girl?” Sarah asked. Towzer D talked back, in her dog way. It was more than a whine and less than a bark. She would lift her muzzle repeatedly, as if she were nodding. Anyone watching would swear the dog was answering.
“What do you think I should do with these beans?” Sarah had the habit of talking to the dog. Hixson thought it a little odd, at first. Then he noticed that Towzer D genuinely did seem to understand more than he had expected she would be capable of. Sarah had told Hixson that if you talk to a dog, they get smarter. Since he had never seen a dog smarter than the first Towzer he conceded. This dog was shaping up to be just as smart, and it couldn’t be something she inherited. She was no relation to old Towzer. It must be the training.
“Go get the bucket.” Sarah told Towzer D. The dog went in the house and came out with the scrap bucket in her teeth. She dropped it on the porch in front of Sarah.
Hixson was walking in with the plow horse. She had thrown a shoe. He rounded the house just in time to hear Sarah’s command and see Towzer D fetch the bucket.
“When did you teach her that?” Hixson asked. He was impressed.
“I didn’t really. But she knows what ‘go get’ means, and I guess she figured out what ‘bucket’ is. I don’t know. She’s a smart one. She understands a lot. More even than old Towzer did, I think.”
They looked at the dog, and she looked back, seeming to understand they were talking about her. Using her nose, she pushed the bucket closer to Sarah and looked up at her. Her expression clearly said, ‘Here. Isn’t this what you wanted?’ Hixson and Sarah cracked up.
“You’re right. That’s one smart dog.” Hixson kissed her head and went about his business. He needed to get the shoe back on that horse.
Sarah picked fresh baby dill from her kitchen garden. The beans were all snapped and washed. She put up eight pints of dilled string beans: two for Momma, two for Annie, two for Emma, one for Mr. Haught and one to keep. While the jars of beans cooled on the table, Sarah went out and worked in the garden. She pulled up the bean plants to throw into the compost pile. She chopped any extra plants that started, giving the one she wanted more room to grow. Then she planted a row of warm-season peppers.
Towzer D was not permitted in the garden. She wasn’t destructive, but neither was she respectful of the plants. Not being allowed inside, she lay near the gate and watched Sarah. On any given day, Towzer D spent her time fairly evenly divided between four things. If she wasn’t sleeping, getting into puppyish mischief or looking for something to eat, she was watching Sarah. The dog’s eyes seldom left Sarah for long. Even when she was into puppy trouble, chewing up clothes pins or digging a hole for example, she had an eye on Sarah.
Towzer D worshiped Hixson, as well. She was a wonderful dog, completely devoted to her people and anxious to please. Coupled with her excellent intelligence and superior training, she was growing into a remarkable dog. The farm was hers, to watch and protect. She had never directly threatened any stranger, but she did make it clear she was watching.
Hixson and Sarah had no doubt that Towzer D would be very aggressive if she thought they were in danger. It eased Hixson’s mind some, to know Towzer D was watching. He had not forgotten, however, that the original Towzer had been killed in trying to protect Sarah, and was still unsuccessful.
Even with the months that had passed the image of that fateful day never completely left his mind. Hixson did not expect to ever fully put it behind him. The fragility of the security they enjoyed was always on his mind. It did not take any great leap of imagination to bring to his mind the picture of what he found that day.
Sarah still had occasional nightmares. Usually, something unsettling would have happened that day to cause them. Any sort of fright, and that night could be disturbed. Hixson was always patient and tender with her at such times. He felt she had shown amazing strength to have not let such a thing break her. A nightmare now and then just served to remind him.
Another lasting legacy of her trauma was that Sarah’s shoulder was never fully right again. She could not carry a heavy bucket with that arm anymore, for one thing. She did not enjoy full motion with the arm, either, but refused to let it hinder her. That, too, reminded Hixson frequently of how much he could have lost. The thought never got very far away.
August 4th, 1866--Dover, Pennsylvania
Sarah had been feeling poorly all week. Nothing felt right in her stomach and she felt very tired. Hixson thought she was coming down with the ague and advised her to stay in bed. Staying in bed was not something she could do. She declared she felt better if she moved around. It did help to stay moving, but she wasn’t sure if it was just because she had convinced herself of it.
Her hens were laying far more eggs than she could use. She usually gave the surplus to Emma for the bakery and received something from the bakery in return. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. That day, however, she decided to make bread pudding.
She had almost a whole loaf of bread that would go to waste if she didn’t use it soon. Momma baked often, and shared with her. So did Annie. Of course, she shared with them, too. In any case, she had too much bread on hand to use.
She tore the bread into bite-sized chunks and let it sit out a while to dry. Then she mixed the custard, using a dozen eggs, sugar and cinnamon and fresh milk from the cow. She also added a little apricot brandy she had brought from Virginia.
Sarah never would admit to spiking the bread pudding. Still, there were suspicions around. Momma was strongly opposed to liquor, but she turned a blind eye to the apricot brandy. Sarah’s bread pudding was worth a little sinning.
Baked with a streusel topping of flour, butter and sugar, and served with a little more brandy in a hard sauce, her bread pudding was a decadent treat. Hixson loved it. After lunch, Hixson scooped out a good-sized bowl of bread pudding. Sarah objected, saying it was still too hot to eat, but that didn’t stop him. He wolfed down his dessert and left to finish the day’s chores.
Poppa and Hixson were chatting out in the field. Poppa was looking over his far western field at the same time Hixson was examining his eastern field.
Hixson told Poppa about those small bits of news he had and those he’d heard. They spent several minutes discussing Hixson’s battle plan