Samuel released her hand and climbed up on the bottom rung of the low fence. “Moses said one of the mama pigs has babies.” He gasped, then giggled. “There they are. They sure are little.”
Natalie joined her son at the fence. A large sow lay in the far corner of the muddy yard nursing nine or ten pink piglets. Seeing Natalie and Samuel, she grunted but otherwise remained where she was. Several of the other pigs, covered in filth, meandered in their direction.
Glancing about, Natalie spied a large barrel pushed up against the three-sided shed the animals used to get out of the sun or rain. “I suppose that’s the slop.” She cringed. If what was inside the barrel smelled as bad as the air in the pig yard, she feared she might lose her breakfast.
Moving to it, she eyed the covered container. Dried drips of something ran down the sides, and a horde of flies buzzed around it. Rolling up her cuffs so they wouldn’t get soiled, she took a deep breath and held it in her lungs. She opened the lid.
Her eyes shot wide at the sight that met her. Slamming the lid down, she quickly backed away from the barrel, her breath swooshing out.
“Oh! It’s horrible.” A shiver slid up her spine with a picture of the watery mixture of vegetable scraps, stale bread, corn, and who knew what else firmly planted in her mind. She eyed the pigs that had followed her across the yard, obviously waiting for their breakfast. “You enjoy eating that mess?”
They stared back.
With a frustrated sigh, she weighed her options. If she went back to the house and begged Harriet to finish the job, the servant would do just that without saying a word about Natalie’s ineptness. But Natalie couldn’t do that. She may not be strong enough to tote water to the garden or handy in the kitchen, but surely she could feed a few animals.
Determined, she marched back to the barrel. Holding her breath, she removed the lid, picked up the pail sitting next to it, and dipped it into the slop. The pigs grunted, squealed, and jockeyed for position at the trough as Natalie dumped the slimy contents over the fence into the wooden crib. Splashes of the mess flew into the air, much of it escaping through the fence slats and landing on her skirt.
She repeated the process three more times, oddly satisfied to see the pigs gleefully gobbling down their nasty meal. After replacing the lid on the barrel, she spied a pump near the barn door.
“I’m going to wash my hands, Samuel.” Her son had climbed to the top rail of the fence while she distributed the slop. He happily watched the pigs enjoy their food.
“All right, Mama.”
It took several minutes of rinsing her hands in the cool, clear water before she felt they were clean again. A look at her skirt revealed flecks of foodstuffs there. She grimaced. Well, perhaps today she would learn how to do laundry.
Returning to the pigpen, Natalie came to an abrupt stop. “Samuel!”
Her son stood in the middle of the muddy pig yard, ankle deep in the smelly muck.
“Come out of there this minute.” She hurried to the fence. Although the pigs were still busy with their meal, the sow with the piglets was on her feet, looking at Samuel.
“My shoe is stuck, Mama.”
Natalie opened the gate to the pen. Mud, manure, and bits of straw filled much of the space.
“Try to work it free,” she said, watching her son struggle to lift his foot. His thin arms flailed while his face scrunched up. Suddenly, his foot popped out of the shoe, which stayed planted where it was, sending him backwards into the muck. A look of startled surprise washed over him.
His laughter rang out a moment later, and even Natalie had to chuckle.
The sow, however, was not pleased. She grunted angrily, glancing between her babies and Samuel. She took a menacing step forward.
Levi tied his horse to the hitching post in front of Rose Hill Manor, feeling foolish for coming. He’d told himself the entire ride over that he simply wanted to check on the new workers and make certain they were settled in their temporary home. It was, after all, the exact thing he’d been commissioned to do when he’d arrived on Texas’ shores. The newly freed men and women across the state would need help gaining independence after a lifetime of bondage. With the thirty men and handful of women he’d hired to work on Rose Hill being his first attempt at fulfilling that commission, it made sense he would want to have a role in its success.
But he couldn’t fool himself with such thoughts. He’d left two capable privates in charge of the new workers, and he knew Moses was there to supervise and offer instructions specific to Rose Hill. They certainly didn’t need a man with no farm experience giving advice regarding things he knew nothing about. Now, ask him about building cedar chests or bentwood rockers and the like, then he could teach them a thing or two.
He glanced about and found no one around, although he’d seen field workers laboring over the cotton plants as he’d ridden up the lane. Harvest was still several weeks away, but the crop needed careful tending, lest bugs and weeds interfere with healthy plants. He’d instructed his men to assist with the work rather than sitting on their horses as an overseer would. Neither of them seemed bothered by the order, and Levi was again grateful for the farm boys in his command. They were used to the hard work of tilling, hoeing, and picking, and they would provide the experience Levi lacked.
Childish laughter sounded from down the hill, near the barns. Wondering if it was Samuel—and guessing the lad’s mother wouldn’t be far if it were—he headed in that
