Ruth Langan - Dulcie's Gift

A minute later Dar entered carrying a pitcher of milk. As he filled each child’s glass, he kept his gaze averted, as though reluctant to look directly into their eyes. But he did glance at Starlight, who ate slowly, as though she’d had little experience at such a feat. Almost at once he looked away.

“Milk?” He paused beside her.

“Yes, please.”

He filled her glass quickly, then moved on to Dulcie, who refused. She’d noted that Aunt Bessie had said cow. Singular. If, indeed, there was only one cow on the plantation, it would be important to save what little milk there was for the children who needed it.

His chore completed, Dar fled the room, obviously eager to get away from so many strangers. Perhaps, Dulcie thought, he did not like children. Nor, it seemed, did any of his family.

“Tea, missy?” Robert asked.

“Yes, thank you. And thank you for washing and pressing our clothes, Robert. That was very kind.”

Except for a slight arching of his brow, Robert’s handsome face remained expressionless.

As Dulcie bit into the coddled eggs, the first she’d actually tasted in months, and corn bread still warm from the oven, she couldn’t help sighing. Leaning back, she sipped strong, hot tea. “This is wonderful, Aunt Bessie.”

“Thanks to the Yankees who set fire to our home and helped themselves to most of our supplies, it’s simple fare,” the older woman snapped.

Out of the corner of her eye Dulcie saw the look that came over Starlight, and knew that Bessie’s words had sent her retreating into a safe place in her mind. She knew she must deftly change the subject, or the young woman would retreat even farther.

“Simple to you, perhaps, but not to us. This food is heaven-sent.” Dulcie glanced around the table, enjoying the way the children looked as they dug into their meal. It was the first time she’d seen them scrubbed clean, wearing crisply ironed clothes. They were, in Dulcie’s eyes, a band of angels.

When she’d searched the upper rooms this morning, Dulcie discovered that she was not the only one with her own room, which opened onto a graceful balcony. Nathaniel and Starlight had been given rooms of their own. Emily and Belle had been given a room together. Though they had probably been placed in separate beds, Dulcie had found the two little girls lying together in one bed, their arms still wrapped around each other for comfort.

She could hardly blame them for being fearful. It had been a dangerous, exhausting journey, and she still found it hard to believe they had survived.

“I’m sure you are eager to return to Charleston,” Aunt Bessie began. She caught the looks that passed between Dulcie and the others, and thought about what Cal had said over breakfast. She was not imagining the fear she saw in their faces. “But my nephew assures me that the woman and girl are not yet strong enough to make the trip. Therefore, it would appear that you will have to remain with us for a few days.”

Their relief was palpable.

For a moment no one spoke. Then Dulcie broke the silence. “We wish to repay your kindness.”

“And you shall,” Aunt Bessie said sternly. “This is a large plantation. Since the war, we find ourselves without help. There are floors to scrub and rugs to beat. Dishes to wash and—”

“—clothes to mend,” Dulcie put in, glancing down at her torn gown.

At the word “mend,” Aunt Bessie perked up. Perhaps she could be relieved of one of her dreaded chores. “Can one of you actually sew?”

“I can,” Starlight said softly as she finished her meal.

Aunt Bessie immediately warmed to the strange young woman. “Fine, child. Come with me. The rest of you can offer your services to Robert. But beware,” she cautioned, “he is a harsh taskmaster. And I am even more so.”

“We are not afraid of hard work,” Dulcie assured her.

As the children pushed away from the table, Dulcie called to them, “Each of you will carry a tray laden with dishes to the kitchen. Papa always said, ‘With many hands a burden is made light.’”

In the kitchen, they found Robert busily wrapping food in a square of linen. He seemed genuinely surprised when Dulcie explained that she and the others intended to work in payment for their keep.

“Just tell us what to do and it will be done,” she said simply.

He thought for several long moments, and it was plain to Dulcie that he was wondering whether he could entrust the care of this fine old house to such inexperienced hands. At length he nodded. “I will show the children what I want them to do. In the meantime, missy, this food must be taken to the men in the fields, along with a heavy jug of water. Can you manage?”

She nodded.

He glanced down at her kid slippers. “Then I would suggest you select a pair of boots from those in the cloakroom. After last night’s rain, the fields will be muddy.”

Dulcie made her way to the back hallway and pulled on a pair of oversize boots. Picking up the food and water, she stepped outside and began walking across the fields.

It was easy to see where the men were working. A horse plodded slowly across a distant field, with a man at the plow behind, churning up the rich black soil. In his wake walked two more men.

Despite the blazing sun overhead, the air was cooled by a fresh breeze off the water. Dulcie found herself savoring the chance to be alone with her thoughts while enjoying the beautiful day.

Oh, how Papa would have loved this! There was a time when the two of them could have stood here like this all day, enjoying the beauty of nature. Just thinking about those wonderful carefree days brought a smile to her lips. Then, remembering her duty, she walked on.

When she drew close to the two men, she saw they were Barc and Dar. They looked up in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Barc called.

“I’ve brought you your midday meal.”

“And none too soon.” Barc crossed to sit in the shade of a live oak.

Dar dropped down beside him. Both men eagerly drank from the jug, then leaned back on their elbows to watch as Cal followed the horse toward them, etching a straight, perfect furrow as he did.

Dulcie stood there, grateful for the shade. As Cal came closer, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

He was…magnificent. It was the first word that came to her mind. He had removed his shirt, and the muscles of his upper arms and shoulders bunched and tightened with every step. Sweat glistened in the dark hair that matted his chest. When he came abreast of them and reined in the horse, he lifted an arm to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Robert has been replaced.” Barc handed the water jug to his older brother. “And I, for one, am grateful. Miss Trenton is far easier to look upon.”

At Barc’s gentle teasing, Dulcie felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

“So I see.” Cal balanced the heavy jug in one hand. Tilting back his head, he took a long, deep drink before returning the jug to Barc and wiping the back of his hand across his lips.

“Let’s see what Robert sent us.” Barc eagerly unwrapped the linen and helped himself to a chunk of corn bread and a slab of cold pork before passing it on to the others.

Cal sat down, leaning against the trunk of the tree. He stretched out his long legs and lazily crossed one foot over the other. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Miss Trenton?”

Dulcie’s blush deepened. The sarcastic tone of his voice did not make it sound like a pleasure at all.

“Your aunt explained that if we were to remain here for several days, we might wish to earn our keep.”

“And do you wish to earn your keep?” he asked, studying her until she was forced to look away in embarrassment.

“Of course,” she said through gritted teeth. “It is not our intention to be a burden to anyone.”