The Journey Home

Chapter 23 A Telegram Delivery

Nicholas Higgins stretched his sturdy legs before the warmth of a well lit fire, enjoying the satisfaction of a full stomach and a bowl of quality tobacco in his clay pipe. The evening had grown cold and the wind could be heard rattling the dried autumn leaves clinging delicately to their branches. From the kitchen, he heard the stacking of clean dishes in the pantry, with a rhythmic swish of the drying cloth and a clank of pottery on pottery.

Nicholas had finished a meal of roasted hen stuffed with savory bread and root vegetables, along with several mugs of a stout ale. He might have finished the evening dozing in front of the fire, satisfied with his meal and comfortable situation, but awaited the company of the chef; his Pru, his love and his mate.

Nicholas was not a handsome man; his face was broad and flat, and framed by a shock of thick, gray hair that stuck out in cow licks. He wore the scars of a man that lived hard; a jagged white scar across his chin was from a machine belt that had worn thin, snapped and struck him. His nose had been broken in his youth, and again at Hamper's Mill when a shuttle broke loose from a loom, and knocked the unsuspecting worker unconscious. He had lost some sense of smell from that blow, but could still taste the earthy tones of a good pot of tobacco and enjoyed the fine meals prepared for him in Pru Cartwright's kitchen.

Nicholas's status among Milton's working class had improved significantly since John Thornton took a gamble and hired him on nearly a decade ago. At his most basic, he was a good man who raised his first family in the squalor of the Princeton district, only to loose all but one child and his beautiful wife to disease and starvation. When he was faced with the challenge of taking on six young orphans nearly ten years ago, Nicholas swallowed his pride and begged a man for a job, for the sake of making a better life for his beloved pack o' brats. John Thornton had given him that second chance, and Nicholas's life took a turn for the better. His new family had survived a multitude of illnesses, broken limbs and street fights and grown into six of the most well respected children in Milton, despite their less than privileged circumstances.

All six of the Boucher children attended school and could read and write. At the behest of John Thornton, the eldest child, Tommy, had been educated by a private tutor and was considering furthering his education. The eldest girl, Elizabeth, was fifteen and took care of the family and managed the house for Nicholas. She also assisted Pru in the canteen during cooking hours. A fourteen year old boy, Michael, had finished school and was apprenticing with Nicholas at the machinery mill on the other side of town. His thirteen yer old brother, Samuel was the family charmer, impossible to keep track of and frequently gifted with inexplicable amounts of bread, cheese and sugar for the family larder.  The two younger children, Jenny and Edward, spent days at school and had avoided working in the mills so far. His own daughter, Mary, had married five years ago and lived with her husband and two babes in the newer row housing built by Thornton to house some of the Marlborough Mills workers when much of the Princeton district was burnt to the ground in 1854, not long after a typhoid outbreak ravaged the poorest of Milton's neighborhoods.

Pru's sleeves were turned back to her elbows as she massaged a mixture of beeswax, lard, mint and chamomile into her hands and wrists. Self admittedly, she had a hint of vanity about her and enjoyed having relatively soft hands despite the daily scrubbing and washing in the kitchen. Nicholas could attest that the mint in Pru's balm eased some of the muscle pain and loss of dexterity incumbent upon age, as he benefited from regular massages for his back and neck. She was nearly forty-five years old, and Pru still turned heads when she walked to the market for the day's supplies. She was neither fat nor thin, but had a womanly shape, with a softness about her body that concealed the strength and stamina of a girl half her age. While working, she wore her auburn red hair beneath colorful printed scarves to keep it securely away from open flames and grease. Her blue eyes flashed passionately when she was challenged or when she laid eyes on her Nicholas at the end of a long day.