Page 97 of Return to Telegraph Creek

Oscar walked over and gave Cal a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sure you’ll be a right good cook in no time.Why, I can even make a few things on our stove.”

“That’s a fact.If Oscar can cook, I’m sure you can learn to.It only takes practice.”

“That’s true,” Miss June affirmed.“If you like, I can send Cook over to give you some lessons.”

Cal blinked, clearly overwhelmed.“Thank you.I’d appreciate that.And ’twould be nice to see Mrs.Hansen again.”

“She’s been asking about you.I’m sure she’ll be delighted to help.”

Sam pulled at Cal’s skirts.He was dressed in a fresh smock, and his face was clean and bright.

“Tirsty, Momma.Tirsty!”

Cal glanced at the young child with a fondness that warmed my heart, but before she could respond, Peter said, “Look, Momma.Watch this!”

He grabbed a tin cup and placed it under the spout of the hand pump, as Teddy yapped at the sudden activity and wiggled in Miss June’s arms.Peter pushed the handle up and down until clear water splashed into the cup.When ’twas almost full, Peter took the cup to Sam and gave it to him.

Cal watched all this with wide eyes and a dazed smile.

“That should make your life much easier,” Miss June said, “as well as having Maggie here to help you.Where is that girl, anyway?”

“She took Lizzie to see if our hens have laid eggs yet,” Peter said.

“Well, now, they’re pretty new,” I said.“You might not get any eggs for another week or so.”

But, even as I said that, Maggie and Lizzie came in.Lizzie was holding a small basket.

“We got four eggs!”she said, lifting it, her face bright with a gap-toothed grin.She’d lost one of her baby teeth t’other day.

We gathered around to look in the basket.Sure enough, there were four large, brown eggs, nestled there in the checkered cloth.

“Well, my goodness!”Oscar exclaimed, tousling Lizzie’s brown hair.“That’s enough for an omelet.Do you like omelets, Lizzie?”

Lizzie scrunched up her nose.“I don’t know.I ain’t never had one.”

Oscar stepped back and put a hand to his chest, his expression one of surprise.

“Never had an omelet?Why, that’s shocking.”He turned to me.“Jimmy, Lizzie’s never had an omelet.”

“Neither have I,” Peter said, not wanting to miss out.He was at the sink, filling and refilling the tin cup, and drinking the fresh water from the pump.He placed the cup on the counter and came o’er to us.

“Well, now, is that a fact?”I said, glancing between them.

“Yes, sir,” they answered.

“I suppose I’ll have to make one, then.I can use this brand-new stove, if your momma don’t mind not bein’ the first to try it.”

Cal laughed, sitting on the old settee that Miss June had provided and cuddling with Sam.“Be my guest—and thank you, kindly.”

“Did someone milk pretty Gwendolyn this mornin’?I’m gonna need some fresh milk to mix with the eggs, and salt and pepper, if you’ve got it,” I said.

Miss June indicated a small stone pitcher with a folded cloth o’er the top, that was sitting on a lower shelf of the counter.

“Peter milked Gwen this morning,” Miss June said, “with Lizzie’s help.”

“I petted her and made sure she wasn’t mad about it,” Lizzie said.