Dorothy Garlock by Homeplace Read Free Book Online Page B

bed.
     
    *   *   *
     
    The minister and his wife arrived shortly after Harriet had breathed her last. He said a prayer over Harriet and then went to the kitchen with Owen. Mrs. Larson, short, plump and motherly, had brought a glass bottle and nipple. She sized up the situation immediately and took charge of the baby. She rubbed the little body with oil, put a soft pad over the child’s navel and wrapped a flannel cloth around his middle to hold it in place. After diapering him, she put him back in the bureau drawer to sleep.
    With Mrs. Larson’s help, Ana bathed and dressed Harriet and arranged her hair in the style she liked best. It was comforting to have the little woman with her. She knew when to talk and when not to. She asked no questions, nor did she mention any of the Jamisons by name. When they finished, they laid Harriet out on the clean bed, and Ana went to the room across the hall.
    A kettle of hot water, a pitcher of cold water, and a washdish sat on the washstand. In a daze of fatigue and grief, Ana stripped off the clothes she had worn since she left Dubuque, washed herself, and dressed again in her good black dress from which she had removed the white collar.
    From the window she could see several buggies and wagons parked in the yard below. News of Harriet’s death had reached the neighbors quickly, and they came with somber faces and gifts of food. A group of men stood at the end of one of the wagons. Owen was not among them. Had it been less than twenty-four hours since he met her in Lansing? So much had happened. So very much.
    Ana stood at the bureau and brushed her hair. Her arms felt like dead weights. She was coiling and pinning it when Mrs. Larson came in, a worried look on her plump face.
    “Why don’t you lie down and rest for a while? I’ll sit with Mrs. Jamison and keep my eye on the baby.”
    “I’d rather not.”
    “You’ll want to sit with her tonight, dear. The burial will be tomorrow.”
    “Is that what Mr. Jamison said?”
    “Yes. He and some of the men are building the coffin.”
    “If you’re sure you don’t mind sitting with Harriet, I’ll lie down.”
    “Would you like something to eat first?”
    “No, thank you. If I fall asleep, wake me in a couple of hours. Did you plan to stay that long?”
    “Yes, dear. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
    “Thank you.”
    Ana removed her dress and hung it over the end of the bedstead. She eased her tired body down on a bed bare of sheets or pillows. The upper part of her body was covered with her shawl, and using her bent arm to pillow her head, she fell into an exhausted sleep that seemed to last only minutes.
    A hand on her shoulder awakened her, and she looked into the face of a young girl with dark auburn hair. Her swollen eyes tried to focus on the person bending over her.
    “Uncle Owen wants to know if you want to come down and eat dinner.”
    Ana sat up on the edge of the bed. At first she had thought the girl was Harriet. Slumping forward, she braced her elbows on her knees and held her face in her hands until the heavy pounding in her head ceased.
    “What time is it?”
    “Past noontime. Everybody else has done eat.”
    “Who do you mean? The family?” Ana got up, went to the washdish and splashed water on her face. The cold water cleared her head.
    “Everybody.”
    “Who?” Ana asked tiredly while she patted her face with the towel.
    “Mama, Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Gus, the Hansons, the Ericsons, the Kephardts and” —the girl frowned— “I don’t know if the Neishems are here or not.”
    “Is Mrs. Larson still here?”
    “Yes, but the preacher went home.”
    Ana hung the towel on the bar at the side of the washstand. “What’s your name?”
    “Lily.”
    The girl was tall, thin and very pretty. She wore a loosely fitted dress with a round collar and two pockets on the shirt. Her hair was in braids, the ends looped up to just above her ears and tied there with a ribbon. She kept her eyes on