After a first awful week, she realized she'd have to over- come his absence, and she began moving back into their bedroom. She dug out an old comforter to change the look of their bed, and rearranged the furniture, moving the bed away from the wall. Each night she got to sleep a bit easier.
She began laying a fire in the stove when the coals had died in the evening, so all she had to do was touch a match to it when she came down in the morning.
When she found herself listening for his whistle, she'd crank up the graphophone and put the Sousa march on again and again, sometimes even waking Sarah with the racket.
She washed his clothes and put the cambric shirts up in Aaron's dresser. It took longer before she could pack away all the other things from their dresser.
She took a leaf out of the table and left only two chairs at it, putting the other two beside the breakfront.
People noted Aaron, working around the place but, finding no signs of his belongings around the house, nodded heads in approval, commending him for the way he kept the farm going when everyone knew it wasn't even his. And giving up his house that way to Mary and her baby-why, what would the girl have done if it hadn't been for him?
He rode the saddle horse over the rim of the east hill at the same time each morning, never surprising her early or inconveniencing her late. She would have breakfast ready for him, the baby already fed and asleep before he arrived. She'd see him gallop into the yard, passing under the elms and taking the horse to the lean-to where he left the saddle before turning her out to graze. It gave Mary time to get the food on the table. He always knocked on the door before he came in, and she knew how foreign that must seem to him.
They talked about the crops, the work he planned to do that day, the neighbors, the weather, the work she'd do during the day. Nothing personal.
At noon he came again, this time stopping at the well to wash his hands, giving her time to know he was on his way up.
One noon when he came in for dinner, Mary seemed nervous about something, and it wasn't long before she said, 'A letter came this morning from a lawyer in Long Prairie.' 'Can I read it?' he asked. He laid down his fork and read the letter, taking a drink of tea while he contin- ued reading over the rim of the cup. 'It looks like you'll have to go to Long Prairie, huh?' he said, putting the letter back into the envelope. 'Do I have to go?' she asked. 'It's nothing to be afraid of, Mary. Hunt was the one who made out my pa's will before there were any lawyers in Browerville. He says it's just a formality that you sign the papers. You don't even have to go to probate court, but he needs your signature on record. That's the law. Then the land is yours for good.' He began eating again, apparently unconcerned. 'But how can I go-what about Sarah?' 'Maybe one of the neighbors can take her for the day.' 'For the day! How long does it take to get there and back?' 'Well…why does it matter? You can stand to get away for a bit. It will do you good.'
She glanced self-consciously out the window and said, 'I'm nursing her, Aaron.' 'Oh…oh, sure.' He was suddenly totally absorbed in cut- ting the meat on his plate. 'Well, that's a pretty long way to take Sarah in the buggy. Maybe you could take the train.' 'Aren't…won't you come along?' she braved, uncomfort- able asking him to do any more. 'If you want me to, of course I will. You pick the day. Hunt says you can come anytime.' 'When would be best for you?' 'It doesn't matter.'
'Should we go tomorrow and get it over with?' 'Okay. But you'll have to get Sarah ready early in the morning. I'm not sure just what time the train comes in, so we'd better get there early, just in case.' 'We'll be ready,' she said.
The next morning was damp and chilly, and Mary bundled Sarah into layers of blankets to keep her warm on the way into Browerville. Even so, Sarah was crabby all the way, and tiny though she was, Mary's arms ached from holding her.
Once on the train for Long Prairie, Sarah settled down, and Mary was grateful to rest her elbows on the padded armrests of the coach seats.
They found Alfred Hunt's office easily, only two blocks from the train depot. When they opened the outer door, they found an empty desk in front of them with its roll top pushed up and ledgers, documents, and scraps of paper ever so precisely arranged.
When Aaron called hello, a portly, balding man with a jolly face came around the doorway. 'Good morning! Good morning!' he said merrily. 'Mr. Hunt?' Aaron asked. 'One and the same,' replied Hunt, extending his hand and creasing into a smile.
Aaron smiled, too. 'I'm Aaron Gray. This is my sister-in- law, Mrs. Jonathan Gray.'
The man's face sobered. 'Ah, Mary Gray it is, then. Please accept my sympathies-both of you.' Then, glancing at the baby in Mary's arms, he added, 'My deepest sympathies. I'm sure it has been dif- ficult for you to come. I'm sorry you had to make the trip. I wasn't aware that you had a baby, Mary.' His using her first name made him seem a friend. He did it to put her at ease. 'So sorry my clerk was out and you were left standing. Come inside and we'll get the business done in no time.'
He ushered them into an inner office that was the antithesis of the one they'd just passed through. There were plants and books and ashtrays with pipes sitting on windowsills and atop anything that would hold them. The desk was a clutter of business-looking things, but the overall feeling of the room was one of comfort and familiarity. Mr. Hunt pulled up two old, cracked leather chairs near the heaped desk. 'Sit…sit,' he invited. 'This is just a formality, you understand. The property does of course belong to the widow in a case like this. However, I'm happy to see you make it official with your signature. It'll insure it for the future of the young one there.' He indicated Sarah by glancing over the smudged spectacles he'd fastened behind his ears. He unfolded some papers and dug through the disorder on his desk until he found a pen. 'The land will be officially yours now, Mary, in the event you'd want to sell it.' Mary nodded, intensely uncomfortable at the mention of selling the farm, which seemed so much more Aaron's than hers. Alfred Hunt handed her the pen and pointed to the spot where she should sign. 'I'd like to read it first before Mrs. Gray signs it,' Aaron said, and she stopped, realizing she should have done so herself.
'Well, of course, you ought to.' And while Aaron looked over the relatively simple form, Hunt went on. 'I only met your husband once, Mary, shortly after the death of his par- ents, but he impressed me as a man with a level head on his shoulders and one who'd keep a place up to snuff. If he kept up the property like I suspect he did, it would be worth a good deal now. If you should ever want to sell it, I'd be most happy to represent you.'
The train was late getting in, but Mary began to relax again when they were on their way. Then, suddenly, she felt it. She sat very still, willing it to stop, but knowing it wouldn't, knowing she had to act fast. 'Aaron?'
He turned his face toward her, wondering why she had whispered. 'What?' he whispered back.
Her eyes were enormous, as if she were afraid. 'Aaron, I have to feed Sarah.'
Is that all? he thought. 'She's not complaining. Why don't you wait until she does?' 'I can't wait.' She was still whispering. Suddenly en- lightened, his eyes dropped to her breasts where a telltale spot had already seeped through the gray cotton and dampened a tiny round circle at the crest of her left breast. 'Jesus,' he said, gaping, learning fast. 'Hold on.' Then he was up and gone, swinging down the aisle between the seats, disappearing out the door at the head of the car. She sat like a ramrod for what seemed an eternity, holding still to keep from flowing.
Then a Negro porter appeared, bending across Aaron's empty seat solicitously. 'Your husband has asked if there's a private place where you can be with the baby. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the way.' She followed him gratefully, catching sight of Aaron reentering the car from the opposite direction. She was shown into a plush private compartment with two seats facing each other and red- tasseled shades on the windows. Thanking the porter pro- fusely, she sank down and began loosening her blouse as the door closed behind him.
She heard the call for Browerville before Sarah was done, and hurriedly composed her clothing before going back to their seats. They were pulling into the depot as she came up behind Aaron, and in the hubbub of gathering Sarah's trap- pings, wrapping her for outside, and leaving the train, they were spared embarrassment. But the friendly porter was at the door tending his portable step when Mary put her foot down onto it, and he reached up to take her arm, smiling broadly. 'I trust you found the compartment satisfactory, ma'am?' 'Yes it was-most satisfactory. Thank you,' she answered.
Aaron was right behind her, and he reached a hand into his pocket, asking, 'What do I owe you?'
But the congenial porter smiled again. 'There's no charge for the service, sir. Just happy to have you all
