The Endearment (21 page)

She began the next morning by attempting to make pancakes. When Karl and James came in from morning chores they found the intrepid Anna ready to pour batter in the griddle.

"So, I can be a full-time logger at last?" Karl asked smilingly, while Anna nervously wiped her hands on the thighs of her britches.

"Maybe," she quavered, and would have poured the batter into the ungreased spider had Karl not reminded her to lard it first. When she had the cakes baked on one side, then turned them, she realized they looked nothing like his had. These were flat and lifeless. But she served him the first ones anyway, hurrying to pour the second batch for James.

Karl eyed the flat specimens with their wavy edges. Too much milk, he thought, and not enough saleratus. But he ate the helping, then another, kindly withholding criticism. When Anna took her first bite, her jaws stopped. Karl and James eyed each other sideways and tried not to snicker. Then she spit the mouthful back onto her plate with disgust.

"Ish!" she spouted. "That's like a slice of a cow's hoof!"

The other two at last burst out laughing, while Anna railed at herself in disgust. "I thought I'd surprise you, but I'm too stupid to remember the simplest recipe. It's awful! I don't know how you ever ate so many!"

"It was hard, wasn't it, James?" Karl managed between gusts of laughter.

James curled his tongue out and rolled his eyes upward.

"Don't you dare poke fun at me for failing, Karl Lindstrom! At least I tried! And you can put your tongue back in now, you little brat!" she yelled at her brother.

Karl silenced his laughter at once, but his chest still shook.

"You were the one who said it was like a cow's hoof," James reminded her.

"I can say it!" she snapped. "You don't have to!" She whisked her plate from the table, turning her back on the both of them.

"Tell your sister not to throw away the leftovers," Karl whispered loudly behind her. "We can use them to shoe the horses with."

But when she whirled on him, he had already made it to the door. The pancake missed his head and sailed out into the yard where Nanna came and nosed at it inquisitively, then--unbelievably!-- turned away in disinterest. Anna stood in the door with her hands on her hips, yelling across the clearing at Karl's retreating back, "All right, smarty, what'd I do wrong?"

"You probably forgot the saleratus," he called merrily without so much as turning around.

She kicked viciously at the pancake lying in the dirt, then swung back to the door, mumbling, "Saleratus! A nincompoop forgets saleratus!"

For good measure, Karl turned now, and added, "And you put in too much milk!" He watched her feisty little backside swivel into the house again. He'd had a sneaking suspicion last night she'd fibbed to him again just to put him off for a while longer. But now he was sure she'd been telling the truth. He had enough sisters to remember their bursts of temper and inexplicable irritability that came and went in mysterious cycles.

Anna was so disgusted with herself she could have cried. After all her promises to try her best to please Karl, look what she'd done! Flying off the handle at him and throwing the pancake like it was his fault. But, oh, those pancakes had been so miserable!

Noon dinner was worse, because it should have been easier. All she had to do was slice bread and fry venison steaks. She volunteered to go back down the skid trail early and get the fire stoked up and the meal begun so it'd be ready when Karl and James brought the load of wood.

Her bread slices were wedge-shaped. The venison, which had looked so appetizing when raw, was charred to a curl on the outside, oozing cold blood on the inside. Nobody mentioned the inept preparation of the food. But the steaks were scarcely touched.

Anna's ineptitude in the kitchen served a purpose after all. She was so furious with herself she worked like a dynamo to get rid of her frustration. That afternoon, because of her excessive energy, she and James kept up, tree-for-tree, with Karl. In the twenty minutes or so it took Karl to fell one tree, Anna could skin another tamarack of its branches, while James could skid a load down the hill from the siding. Time of the month or not, Anna would show Karl she was good for something!

By the end of the day Anna's stomach was growling like a riled hedgehog. Once it chose to growl when she was so near Karl, he heard it and could not resist a little corner-of-the-mouth smile. But he kept on working, bare-chested and amused.

Anna could not stand it any longer. When the next tree went crashing down, she looked at Karl across the roaring silence and, even though it was earlier than usual, asked, "Karl, could we go back early today?"

"Why?" he asked, already seizing his axe, moving to the next tree.

"Because I'm so hungry I haven't got enough strength to whack one more limb off."

"Me, too," James put in from his spot at the far end of the tamarack. Still, he cast a wary glance at his sister while he admitted it.

"Me, too," Karl said, trying not to smirk.

Suddenly, the humor of the situation struck Anna. All of them working away here while she grumbled and mumbled and was the worst kind of spitfire! She knew she had to be the first one to laugh. It started as a thin, self-conscious giggle, but before she knew what was happening, James chuckled, then Karl. Then a most unladylike snort came through her nose, and all three of them let go fully!

She collapsed in the sawdust in an uncontrollable fit of mirth. Karl stood with one foot on a stump, one hand braced on the axe, hooting at the azure sky, while James came whisking through the branches of the downed tree to Anna's side, where he, too, settled onto his knees in the sawdust. The crows must have heard, for they started up a cacophony of their own from the woods. The trio laughed until their stomachs growled all the more. Anna finally sat up, weak, exhausted in the nicest way. Karl eyed her appreciatively, her hair now salted with sawdust, dark circles of sweat beneath her arms, smudges of bark lichens on her chin. He'd never seen anything prettier.

"I think I was right the first time when I took you for a whelp still wet behind the ears, Anna. Look at you. No wife of mine could look like that, sitting there in her britches with sawdust all over everything."

But the way he smiled at her, she knew she was forgiven for last night. Making a face at him, she asked, "Can we go down right now, Karl?"

"Right now?"

"Right this very now!"

"But we should trim and buck this tree first, and –“

"And by that time you will have to bury me! Please, let's go now. I'm starving, Karl, starving!"

"All right," Karl laughed, pulling his axe from its slice in the stump, extending it toward Anna. "Let's go."

She squinted up at this husband of hers, his tanned, smiling face framed by damp, unruly curls near his temples. She wondered how she'd managed to get so lucky. Her heart tripped in gay excitement at the very sight of him, holding the axe in his powerful grip, with that blue-eyed smile slanting down at her. With a coy smile of her own, she grabbed the cheeks of the axe with both hands, and he tugged her to her feet in a shower of woodchips. She came flying to land lightly against him, and he caught her with his free arm, pulling her up against his hip, then laughed down into her eyes as she peered up at him.

James smiled, watching them, then scampered off, saying, "I'll get Belle and Bill."

Karl dropped his arm, but raised his eyes to Anna's hair, then reached out to pick a piece of pine from it. "You are a mess," he said smilingly, and flicked the fragment away.

She touched her index finger to his temple and followed the track of a bead of sweat that trailed downward at the edge of his hair. "So are you," she returned. Then she put the finger to the tip of her tongue, her brown eyes never leaving his, which widened a little in surprise before she coquettishly whirled away.

They started down the hill, the five of them, Anna declaring that the team had never moved this slow before; surely she would fall dead in her tracks halfway to the table if they didn't hustle. But Karl reminded her with a smirk that for safety's sake the horses must not be hurried. She strode half a pace ahead of Karl with impatient steps, making sure her hips swung a little come-hither message into the bargain.

"What are you cooking for supper?" asked the husband behind her.

She fired him a withering look over her shoulder, then faced front again as she scolded, "Don't be smart, Karl."

"I think it is someone else who is being smart here, and if she doesn't watch her teasing she will end up doing the cooking yet."

Anna turned around and skipped a few steps backward while pleading in her most earnest voice, "I'd do anything for a decent meal cooked by somebody else for a change."

"Anything?" he questioned suggestively, stretching his steps to gain on Anna, who suddenly whirled around, ignored his innuendo, continuing to march vigorously toward supper.

"Come back here, Anna," he ordered mildly.

"What?"

"I said come back here. You have sawdust on your britches."

She stuck her rear out to inspect it as best she could while still downhilling it. But Karl caught up to her, and she felt his hand swipe her seat, sending little shivers of anticipation through her belly and breasts. Then, his sweeping done, Karl left his hand around her waist, pulling her lightly against his hip. With the axe swung over his other shoulder, they walked down to the clearing.

 
That night they splurged on precious sliced ham because it was the fastest thing Karl could think of. He plucked it down from the rafter of the springhouse where it had been hanging upside down like a bat. He showed Anna how to make red-eye gravy of flour and milk. With it they had crystalline boiled potatoes, which she managed to peel quite nicely for Karl--this first small domestic success filling her with pride.

During the supper preparations, Karl warned her, "We're almost out of bread. Tomorrow I think I must show you how to bake more."

Disheartened, she wailed, "Ohhh, no! If I couldn't handle pancakes, I'll for sure kill the bread!"

"It will take time but you must learn."

She threw out her hands hopelessly. "But there's so much to remember, Karl. Everything you show me has different stuff in it. I can't possibly get it all straight."

"Give yourself time and you will."

"But you'll be sick and tired of me ruining all your precious food when you have to work so hard for every bit of it."

"You are too impatient with yourself, Anna. Have I complained?" He raised his blue eyes to hers.

"No, Karl, but I only wish I could learn quicker so you didn't have to do it all. If I could get things right the first time, you could leave me without worrying I'll burn the house down and your supper with it. Why, I still haven't got the spider clean from dinner!"

"A little sand will work it clean," he advised, non-plussed.

The sand worked beautifully, and she displayed the rejuvenated pan with pride. But later, when the ham was spitting and smelling unendurably delicious, Anna stopped in the door, clutching the bowl of potato parings against her stomach.

"Karl?"

He looked up to find her playing with a curl of potato peeling, twisting it around an index finger distractedly.

"What is it, Anna?"

She studied the peeling intently. "If I knew how to read, you could write things down for me so I'd be able to cook stuff right. I mean ..." She looked up expectantly. "I mean, then it wouldn't matter if my memory's not so good." Again, she dropped her eyes to the bowl.

"There is nothing wrong with your memory, Anna. It will all smooth out in time."

"But would you teach me to read, Karl?" Her eyes wandered back to his. "Just enough to know the names of things like flour and lard ... and saleratus?"

A soft, understanding smile broke across his face. "Anna, I will not send you packing because you have forgotten the leavening in the pancakes. You should know that by now, little one."

"I know. It's just that you can do everything so good, and I can't do anything without you watching every move. I want to do better for you."

He wanted nothing so badly as to step to the doorway and pitch the bowl of potato parings aside and take her in his arms and kiss her until the ham burned.

"Anna, do you not know that it is enough for me that you wish this?"

"It is?" Her childish, large eyes opened wide.

"Of course it is." He was rewarded with her smile.

"But would you teach me to read anyway, Karl?"

"Perhaps in the winter when time grows long."

"By then I will have burned up all your valuable flour," she said mischievously.

"By then we will have a new crop."

She turned with her bowl to leave, happy now.

"Anna?"

"What?"

"Save the parings. We will plant those with eyes and see if the season is long enough to give us a second crop. We will need it."

She turned to study him thoughtfully. "Is there anything you don't know, Karl?"

"Ya," he answered. "I do not know how I will make it till tomorrow night."