Free The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey Page B

Mabel’s.
    “Oh, it’s so good to see you. I’ve been after George ever since Thanksgiving to get us over here. It’s no good being a woman in this country, is it? Too many men, in my opinion. And of course I go off and have all boys myself, as if there weren’t enough already.” Esther laughed and shook out her long braid. Then she looked around the cabin and Mabel felt a mixture of pride and shyness, sure that Esther was inspecting the curtains and clean kitchen and assessing her skills as a homemaker.
    “Nice tight cabin you’ve got here. George says you’ve got some problems with the frost coming through, but that happens to us all on those cold days. Just crank up the fire, I say. Looks like you’ve got a sturdy woodstove. That makes all the difference.”
    Esther stood next to the stove much the way Jack did, with her hands spread wide to the heat. Mabel realized she had never really studied the stove before, just as she knew that Esther had yet to notice the carefully set table or the few photographs hanging on the walls. It was as if she were seeing a different cabin altogether.
    “Jack hasn’t come home yet. He should be here anytime, and then we can have dinner. Would you like some tea? I put some water on.”
    “Oh, that would be terrific. I’m cold and damp from the ride over. I’m not complaining, though. I’ve always liked the snow.”
    “I do know what you mean. Or at least I can say I am finally getting accustomed to it. There’s been a lot to get used to here.”
    Esther laughed. “Isn’t that the truth. I don’t know if you ever get used to it really. It just gets in your blood so that you can’t stand to be anywhere else.”
    The women sat at the table, Mabel sipping her tea and Esther talking. Mabel waited for a chance to ask about the child, but Esther never seemed to take a breath.
    “I know I’m going to talk your ear right off tonight. It’s just so good to have a woman to visit with. Those boys, they do their best, but really they’re happier if I keep quiet. Around the dinner table it’s always grunt, harrumph, give me some more of this and that. Me, I like to have a good sit-down and talk. That’s about all I really miss about town sometimes. Just a good conversation now and then. I don’t even care too much what we talk about.”
    She then went on to talk about last year’s crops and the railroad’s plans to expand, how the bigwigs from back in Washington had come all the way to the Territory to inspect the tracks and pose for photographs, and how all of this mining and expansion would mean more demand for farm goods. Then she talked about the wolves that were running the river and how their younger son wanted to trap a few for the bounty money.
    “That boy of mine hasn’t showed up yet, has he? He’s supposed to meet us here, coming by horse on the river.”
    Then Esther asked about the fox Jack had seen in the fields. “They’ll snatch your chickens as soon as they get a chance,” she said. “You ought to shoot him next time you see him.”
    Never in her life had anyone suggested Mabel shoot something. She didn’t mention she had never picked up a gun. It seemed an embarrassing fact in front of Esther.
    “Oh. Yes,” she said. “I suppose so.” She was preparing to say that she had indeed seen the fox, with a little girl, right near their barn, but just then the door burst open.
    “Well, call it beginner’s luck,” George said. “Jack’s gone and shot the biggest moose in the entire valley. Gals, you’ve got to come and see this.”

     
    Mabel tried to imagine what she would see in the barn as she followed George and Esther through the snow. She expected an entire animal, still in its skin and fur, still a moose. When she stepped into the lantern light and saw the disembodied antlers atop their bloody stump, she drew in a breath.
    “Holy Moses!” Esther said.
    “That’s exactly what I said, Mom. Isn’t it?” and the boy turned to Jack.