Wars at Home

"Aunt Kat, I'm no good at this!" Emily moaned, frustrated as she pulled another blackened loaf of bread from the oven and set it on the stove top with a clang.

I forced myself to keep a straight face. Julia hadn't been exaggerating when she said that Emily burned everything she touched.

Since moving everyone to the ranch, I began teaching Emily how to cook. I started her out on things that shouldn't have been very challenging. Mostly it was just measuring a few ingredients and keeping track of the cooking time. But she proved to be more of a disaster in the kitchen than I thought possible, making even the most basic things completely inedible.

She seemed to have the most luck with her first attempt at bread. Of course it hadn't really resembled anything remotely appetizing. It was just closer than anything else, so I decided to stick with that until she could get it right.

I had to admit, I was beginning to doubt that she really would get it right. I could understand messing up once or twice before starting to get the hang of it, but that had been her eighth attempt and it was barely better than the first.

I moved closer to fully examine her work. At least it had risen a little this time, I mused. That was an improvement.

I looked from the charred block of undoubtedly rock-hard bread to Emily's discouraged face.

"You just have to keep trying. You'll get it."

Please, Lord, let her get it. I didn't know how much longer I could hold onto my resolve to see this through. It shouldn't have been very hard to learn. After all, it wasn't like singing or painting or anything else that required actual talent. It was just following instructions. I wasn't looking for a culinary masterpiece. Just something edible.

Emily sighed and looked miserable, but no longer begged to be let off the hook. She knew I'd say no like all the other times she tried.

"Start over." I gave her a sympathetic smile along with the pan I just finished washing.

She unhappily took the pan from my hand and went over to the table to start again.

"Aunt Kat, I'm finished with this one." Ruby held out the pair of pants for my inspection. Her training, on the other hand, was going wonderfully.

"Let me see." I took the clothes from her and examined the stitches in the pocket before I smiled down at her.

"I think you're a born seamstress, young lady. Look at that stitching. I can't even tell where the tear was!"

Ruby beamed. Something she'd been doing much more frequently. She was almost like a completely different child.

At first I wondered how genuine her resolve to be better actually was, and how much was just due to shock and fear of being punished at the time. But she really seemed to be trying.

She still had trouble with her temper and didn't like all the chores she had to do, but she was so much better than before. There was no more mouthing off when she didn't like something. No more of her disrespectful attitude when I corrected her or made her do something over.

She still complained and whined plenty of the time, but there was a definite shift in her attitude.

I realized that she had been aching for someone to take charge with her before. She'd been so overlooked and so neglected that she was trying anything to be seen. Anything to make her feel like someone cared.

Looking at her now, I realized another area that she'd been deprived in. Having never been made to do anything, aside from skimming by on homework, she never had the chance to feel a sense of pride for accomplishing something.

I knew she craved that feeling now.

Being so unfamiliar with actually having to work, I had to force her to do every little thing at first. She'd whine and complain about how it was too hard and too much, but one word of how well she was doing and she would light up and try harder.

I folded the pants and was about to redirect her back to the pile of mending that still needed to be done, when a squeal of laughter drifted in through the open window.

We both reflexively turned toward the sound before Ruby dismally looked back at the pile of work waiting for her.

As Peter predicted, the ball was ruined from its trip down the river. And as I'd told her she would, Ruby was paying for a new one with extra chores. One of those chores was the mending, which was to be done on Saturdays, after her regular chores and before she was allowed to go out and play with the other children.

Thanks to James, there was always plenty of mending to do, but this week there seemed to be more than usual. Ruby had been working diligently, but with the amount that remained, she wouldn't finish until supper. And it was a beautiful day out. Probably one of the last nice days before the real Fall weather set in.

"Why don't you take a break and go outside," I said.

"I can?" Ruby asked, astonished.

"So long as you finish your job later."

"I will!" She quickly promised.

"Alright." I smiled. "Go play."

Ruby grinned and didn't wait to be told again. She ran to the door and nearly crashed into the man on the other side, who'd been about to knock.

"Whoa! Slow down there, little lady." He maneuvered out of the way, as she ran past him.

"Sorry!" Ruby didn't stop to look back and was quickly out of sight.

"Mind if I come in?" Stephen smiled charmingly into the kitchen.

"Certainly." I nodded, reminding myself not to scowl at him. This was the downside to everything. Having to allow the men - Stephen Harper in particular - access to the house during the daytime for refreshments. It wasn't an issue with the majority of the men. They mostly used canteens and filled up on their meals, or took extras for snacks. Stephen was a regular visitor, always sure to need something when Emily was around. And always with that unnerving look in his eye.

Emily blushed and gave him a coy smile as she kneaded the fresh dough in her hands.

Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him and watched Emily a minute longer than necessary for a polite greeting.

"What can I help you with, Mr. Harper?" I asked pulling his attention from Emily.

"I wish you'd call me Stephen." He turned his cocky grin on me, fully aware that I refused to use his first name in order to emphasize his age.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever excuse he came up with to gain access to my niece. At first it had been snacks. Then when I packed him extra after lunch the next day, he came in with other reasons. Sometimes it was a drink. Sometimes it was liniment for his "bad knee" or a bandage for a mysterious injury that I never saw any evidence of. But it was always something different so I couldn't plan ahead.

He chuckled under his breath before he said "I just wondered if you had any more of those delicious sandwiches left over from lunch. I'm starved." He glanced at the stove.

"Or maybe some...bread, is it?" He winked at Emily, making her giggle.

"I thought you might be hungry." I did my best to keep the sarcasm out of my tone.

"So I wrapped up a few sandwiches in advance. They're right by the door." I nodded toward the spot where the food sat on the counter. Even though he didn't always use the food excuse, to speed things up, I kept something ready just in case.

Stephen glanced at the wrapped sandwiches and then back at me, looking as if he wanted to laugh.

"Anything else?" I was ready for him to leave.

"Well, I did have something sweet in mind too..." He eyed Emily and she flushed a deeper red, not bothering to disguise her pleasure.

I cleared my throat loudly, no longer trying to project the pretense of welcoming hostess.

"But I guess the sandwiches will do. For now." He grinned.

I glared, bristling at his insinuation that he would get the rest of what he wanted later.

"See you for supper, Ladies." With another wink for Emily, he grabbed the sandwiches from the counter and headed back outside.