My Hands Hold My Story (Rough Draft)

Chapter Six

Dawn seemed to come earlier in Montana than it had in the east. I jolted awake when my mattress moved. Blinking, I saw Simon making his way to the ladder. He must have bumped against my bed. When I turned my head to where Anna and Susan had slept, their mattress was empty. Breathing in, I smelled coffee and bacon.

So the previous day where my step-sisters had slept in had been an aberration. Feeling tired, I dragged myself out of bed and dressed in the dress I'd worn the day before. How dearly I wished I had my trunk or at least the chance to wash the clothes in my carpet bag. They would not take much more wearing.

Downstairs, I found Cordelia at work in the kitchen, flipping bacon in the frying pan. There was no sign of my brother or step-sisters there or in the main living space. I knew there were animals, cows and pigs, in the barn, so I could only assume they had morning chores they were responsible for every morning.

Steeling myself for another refusal, I walked around the table and approached my stepmother. I could only continue trying. I did not want to be seen as some kind of laggard or lazy person. Far from it, I had worked hard in my aunt's house. Uncle Richard would not have stood for anything less.

Before I could knock on the counter or think of some other way to draw her attention, Cordelia turned toward me. Had she seen me out of the corner of her eye or had she heard my footsteps? I always wondered whenever someone who hadn't been looking toward me suddenly faced me. She shook her head, an expression of resignation on her face. She gestured towards the bedrooms.

"Dress...children."

Me? Dress my half-siblings? Startled by the request—or rather, the order— I blinked at her. A scowl crossed her face and she turned her back on me. It was not an option. Not wanting to anger her anymore, I walked to the bedroom door. How hard could it be?

Both children were still fast asleep on their mattress. The all too familiar scent of urine was in the room, signalling that at least one of them had wet the bed over night. The sheets would have to be washed. If so, perhaps I could wash my own clothing at the same time. What kind of routine would Cordelia have for when she washed laundry?

Straightening my spine, I went to the small trunk that was open against the wall. Children's clothing was there, and I picked up the first appropriate outfits for them both. Then, I faced the mattress where they both slumbered. When I shook her shoulder, Katie opened her eyes, blinked, and then returned to sleep.

Grabbing her arms, I sat her up. No matter how much moving I did, she refused to open her eyes more than a slight crack. She remained malleable and half awake as I changed her out of her nightgown into the cotton dress. Her underclothes were soaked, so she was the one responsible for wetting the bed. I tossed them to the floor to take care of later.

Sam, on the other hand, opened his mouth wide as he proteste being awoken from sleep. I was thankful I couldn't hear his screams, though I had no doubt Cordelia was not pleased with the situation. Nothing I did seemed to calm him, no amount of jostling. Finally, once I had his diaper changed and a fresh gown on him, I gave up all hope of calming him and I carried him out to his mother.

She scowled and snatched him from me. Cordelia made a gesture towards the stove and then rushed back to the bedroom. Faced with the pancakes and the bacon, I felt more confident with being able to handle that task.

I was kept busy making sure the bacon was fried just right and the pancakes were the right golden color until everyone who'd gone out to care for chores came back in. While Anna carried what looked to be a bucket of milk, Susan held a small basket. She shoved it into my hands and I looked down to see that it was filled with fresh eggs.