Free Valley So Low by Patrice Wayne Page B

shelf it wasn’t yet four in the morning, and Maude had a long way to go before she could stop.  But by nine, she had a line of pies—two apple, one raisin, one pumpkin—cooling on the wide windowsill above the sink.  The back straps, what some might call pork loin, filled the house with a delicious aroma as they roasted.  She’d seasoned both with onion, sage, a little salt, black pepper, and thyme.  A big pot of peeled and quartered potatoes sat on the stove ready to be boiled and then mashed.  Another pan of corn simmered with butter.  A platter of fresh-baked biscuits sat on the warming oven of the stove.  Four loaves of bread rose and were ready for the oven.  Maude had beans cooking too, seasoned with last fall’s ham hocks.  She’d made an apple cake too, and several big pans of cornbread.  Before anyone ate, she’d also fix gravy.  She should have plenty for everyone to eat.
    With nothing left to do but mash the ‘taters and stir up the gravy, Maude headed upstairs to change into her good clothing.  First, she rounded up George, washed him despite his vocal protests, and dressed him in one of the long dresses small children, even boys, wore until they turned five or so. Maude shook her head.  Her baby would grow up sooner than she wanted. Harry put on his best pair of overalls, the ones she’d ironed the day before, with a good shirt, then added his sole suit jacket over it.  He combed his hair back and headed downstairs to greet any arrivals while Maude dressed.
    She donned her newest and best dress, a simple black broadcloth garment she’d made two years earlier.  The skirt ended below her calves but it’d become the fashion.  The white collar and cuffs added a neat look Maude liked.  She managed to find a pair of black stockings where the darns didn’t show and pulled her button-up shoes out from beneath the bed.  After studying her reflection in the wavering glass of the sole mirror, Maude took down her hair, brushed it out, and braided it into two pigtails.  She pinned them across the crown of her head and on impulse dug in a bureau drawer for earrings.  It required effort to push them through her half-shut pierced earlobes, but she managed to get them inserted.  With a dab of rose scent on her wrists and throat, Maude went downstairs as the sound of the first arrivals floated upward.

Chapter Five
     
    By a quarter to twelve, four coffins rested near the open graves, hand-hewn with difficulty from the rocky soil.  Close to forty people milled out in the yard between the house and the graveyard but more were on the way, or so they’d heard from the early arrivals.  Maude watched from the windows.  One more wagon approached along the creek and she saw a familiar gray head beneath a bonnet she knew well.  “Granny’s here,” she told Harry and before he could reply, she dashed outside to meet the old woman.  Fred assisted his mother-in-law down from the wagon seat and nodded to Maude.
    “Child, let me look at you,” Granny said. “You’re a sight for these poor old eyes.  You’re lookin’ fine and I’m sorry it took death to get me out here.”
    “I should’ve come to town to visit you,” Maude said. “I’ve missed you fierce.”
    “You’re better to keep home with all this influenza,” Granny said with a shake of her head. “It’s bad.  I had it myself but I’m a tough old woman and death didn’t seem to want me yet. And I’m sorry to hear about your poor mama. Where’s little George at?”
    “In the house with Harry,” Maude replied. “Granny…”
    Granny cocked her head and fixed her unblinking gaze on Maude. “If you’re fixin’ to tell me you two are sweethearts, it’s no surprise to me or anyone else with eyes in their head.  And if you’re worryin’ I’ll fuss ‘cause he moved back down here from the old cabin, I ain’t.  You need a man around this place and he needs a woman.  Onliest thing I wondered is what took so long and