aboard, sir.' 'Ah…thank you…thank you kindly,' Aaron replied, tucking some coins into the black palm as inconspicuously as pos- sible. The porter nodded appreciatively. 'Thank you, sir, thank you.'
Turning to take Mary's arm, Aaron asked, 'Do you need anything in town before we start back?' 'No, just get me home fast,' she said, then blurted, 'Thank you, Aaron.'
21
The days returned to unvarying sameness. For Aaron they were long, hard days, days in which he missed Jonathan beside him. The neighbors' help had made the first plantings easy, but they'd planted more than they should have of some crops, and now Aaron worked long and hard at the cultivat- ing. The milking wasn't bad in the morning, but at the end of the day when he was worn down, his arms ached before he finished.
When Aaron came up at suppertime one evening and slumped into his chair with a heavy sigh, Mary put the food on the table, then sat down, studying his weary look. 'I've been thinking, Aaron,' she said as she spooned food, being careful not to look at him. 'I'd like you to teach me to milk.' She tried to make it sound offhand.
A wry, amused look flickered over his face. 'You're not the best at milking,' he said. 'Well, I could learn,' she offered. 'I can handle it alone.'
She grew piqued. 'Well, if you'd give me a chance, I'd like to learn! I'm the only woman for miles around here who can't milk a cow!' She
reddened slightly and sat looking down at her plate. 'Okay…okay,' he gave in, slightly surprised.
She instantly softened. 'I could try tomorrow night. I've got washing first thing in the morning, but I'd have time in the evening.'
It was settled, and he left that night thinking the milking would take twice as long tomorrow. He'd have to do it all, anyway, after waiting for her to try her hand at it.
But she was a determined woman. She kept trying in just the way he explained, watching him first, then trying again until it was less difficult. Within a few days she could do it passably well, although she tired far faster than Aaron.
Sarah was a problem, though. Mary left her in the house alone a couple of times, but she hated doing that. So she asked Aaron if he could make a light box of some kind for her. 'I hate leaving her inside when I do the gardening,' was Mary's excuse. She was afraid that Aaron might think it too great an inconvenience for her to help with the milking.
Aaron made a light, small box with lattice sides to let the air through and a handle like a grape basket. When Mary brought Sarah to the barn in it the first time, the baby was asleep, and Aaron peeked at her, in pale green blanket and yellow bonnet, declaring she looked like a cob of corn all ready for market. Mary put the basket on two upturned milk pails, saying 'Aaron! What a thing to say about your own daughter!'
She could have bitten off her own tongue. It had slipped out. She hadn't meant to say it. She turned away, stammering. But Aaron covered the uncomfort- able moment. 'I see she likes the basket all right.' He turned to his work, but a pleasant tingle of warmth shivered through him.
The mayflies paid their short-lived visit, and the deerflies came in June. One evening during milking, Mary and Aaron and Sarah were in the barn as usual when a sudden, frantic cry came from the baby, who had been asleep in her basket. Aaron had been on his feet between cows, and before Mary could break free of the pail, her skirts, and the stool that hindered her, Aaron had whisked Sarah out of her basket in alarm. 'What is it?' Mary cried while the wails continued in full force. But as she reached Aaron, she saw the growing welt on Sarah's face. 'A deerfly,' he said. 'She'll be all right.'
Yet the little mouth squared and quivered and squalled, and Aaron kissed the welted cheek, murmuring to the baby. 'Here, Corncob,' he said. 'You'd better go to your mother.' He handed the baby to Mary. 'I'd better put some soda paste on it,' she said calmly, then added, 'Sorry, Aaron.'
Then she left him in the quiet barn, looking at the empty basket. Why had she said she was sorry? Sorry for the dis- turbance? Sorry to leave him with the milking? He decided he was most sorry she'd had to take Sarah from him. Holding her was not unpleasant. As a matter of fact, he'd liked it very much.
When he returned to the house, he took the basket, too. 'How is she?' he asked. 'It was just a bite, like you said. If Sarah's go ing to live on the farm, she'll have to get used to bites.'
Wondering how long Sarah would be living on the farm, Aaron left again, saying, 'I have to get the rest of the milk.'
The next day, Aaron worked until noon and then went to town. For Mary it was an endless day. She gave him a list of supplies and watched him head away, wishing she could go. It had been so long since she'd been to town, but the ride was too hard with Sarah. She was still nursing the baby, and couldn't leave her with a neighbor.
The afternoon dragged on. She weeded the garden to fill the hours. It seemed an eternity ago when she had first grown dizzy, stooping over the garden rows. She took Sarah back into the house when the garden was done, and cleaned her- self up to start supper. Aaron should have been back by now, she worried, and found herself returning time after time to the porch rail, to look eastward.
When she saw the rig coming, a feeling of relief swept her, and she raised a hand in welcome. Aaron saw her on the porch waiting and hurried the horses. Her waving, waiting figure seemed to beckon him home in a way he'd never felt welcomed before. 'I thought you'd never get here,' she called. 'Hurry in! Supper's ready.'
He unharnessed the team and carried the box of supplies to the house. 'What took you so long? What's in here?' She was pulling at the brown paper before he could set the box down.
'Back off, woman,' he scolded with a smile, 'and give me room to set this down.'
But she grabbed the parcel and tore the string, saying, 'I didn't order anything like this. What is it?'
She found a length of cheesecloth inside. 'It's not for you. It's for Sarah-to keep the deerflies away.'
It was so unexpected-his buying the netting for the baby. She floundered for something to say, but all she could think of was, 'Why didn't I think of that?'
No answer was needed, but Aaron knew she was pleased.
She peppered him with questions about town, wanting to hear all the news, asking whom he'd seen. Aaron relayed what he could, and of course there were good wishes for her from everyone he'd seen. He could tell she was aching to go to town herself again.
That night, it was hard to leave. She seemed dejected as he left her on the porch. He stopped under the elms and called back to cheer her, 'Next time I go to town, you're coming along. It's no man's job to buy things for a baby.' Then he heeled the horse, wondering if she'd find some ex- cuse not to go with him because of what had happened on the train.
After that, he had no need to knock on his own door, for she was usually standing on the porch when he arrived. Sometimes at noon he'd see her under the clotheslines, stretching her arms up to hang clothes. There were always diapers and little clothes now. He loved seeing them there. She still did his laundry, refusing to have it any other way. She said it was the least she could do.
One evening when Aaron was leaving for the Dvoraks', she called, 'Wait a minute, Aaron, you forgot your laundry,' and came from the front room carrying the brown parcel. 'Try not to smash it now,' she said, as she usually did. Then she handed it to him, one hand on the bottom of the parcel, one hand on the top. As Aaron reached for it, her hand brushed his palm. Their touch was like an electric current, and Mary reacted as though she'd gotten burned. She jerked her hand backward and grabbed it with the other. Realizing what she'd done, she shot a look at Aaron, her cheeks flam- ing. 'It's not necessary for you to do my clothes up, Mary,' he said. 'Mrs. Dvorak offered to do them for me.' 'Don't be silly, Aaron,' she argued, 'I love doing them.'
But once again her response seemed to tell a secret. Aaron sought to cool the flame that suddenly leaped through him. He stepped fully out onto the porch, closing the screen door between them, and said, 'I appreciate your doing them for me. Thank you, Mary.'
When he was gone, she put her palms to her cheeks and called herself every kind of fool. She resolved to control herself from now on.
Haying time arrived, and Aaron began staying in the fields at noon to save time. The first day he did this, she
