Willa had taken one of the chickens, rung its neck and plucked its feathers until it was clean as a whistle. The dumplings were tender and light. She dug up some of the last of the carrots and prepared them with the dumplings.
"This isn't an Indian meal, is it?" Charlie asked with surprise.
"No, but my mother often cooked it for my father as it was his favorite meal." She told him. "I guess I was thinking of him when I prepared it. Does it please you?"
Clay tasted it and was surprised, "This is good. But I never knew an Indian to cook such a thing."
She nodded and smiled shyly at him. "I am pleased you like it. My mother taught me to cook things that my father had always liked. She was a wonderful cook, and all he had to do was tell her what he wanted, and once she tasted it from other white women, she'd cook it."
"It sure is good, in fact, I've hired her as our cook and housekeeper." Charlie announced.
Clay started to object but realized he might embarrass the lady, so he kept quiet. She fed the baby before she ate. The men watched her, and Charlie was warming up to the baby now.
The baby was hungry, and he was eager for his milk. When he finished, he sighed heavily, and she laid him down on the blanket on the floor.
"He eats like his stomach has been empty a while." Charlie chuckled.
"Yes," Willa's face turned pale. "Food on the reservation is scarce. I am surprised I have enough milk for him." She explained not looking at either of them. "I hope you don’t mind; I found the carrots in what is left of your garden. It is planting time now, if you have the makings, I can plant for you. You have rich, black soil, it will yield a wonderful garden. But I will need seedlings. If I make a list can you get them for me?"
Clay thought about that. This woman was a worker and his stomach growled with the first bite of dumplings, they were so tender and light. His stomach was winning the battle for her staying.
"Well, I'm sure you'll fatten him up quickly now. I'll check to see what we got and what we don't have we can always get at the General store in town." Charlie told her as he touched the baby's chin. "Have you had a garden before?"
"Oh yes, my mother taught me to grow a fine garden, as it would feed us all year if all the things, she planted were good. I have learned many things from white people too. Because I am a breed, I accept help and guidance from the white women I have met. I have found that learning from all is better than learning from only one. One lady whose husband traded with our tribe taught me to can vegetables so we could have them year-round."
"That's very wise, to accept help from so many." Clay nodded.
The baby smiled and when Charlie reached a finger at him, the baby took it into his mouth and sucked.
"Would you look at that?" Charlie laughed.
Clay couldn't help but smile too. He saw a sparkle in his father's eye that he hadn't seen for years. Willa and the baby might be good for his father. He'd become much happier and younger in a short span of time too. With Willa here, maybe his father wouldn't keep persisting about him getting married.
What could they lose? It was a good bargain.
"After dinner, we'll nap a while then bury your pa."
She nodded. "My people have found that resting after a meal is good and they can work much longer with rest. They learned it from the Mexicans. They call it a siesta I believe."
"That's right. For years white people made fun of their afternoon naps but then some of us began trying too, and it does make you fresh for the rest of the day." Charlie smiled.
Still, Clay was distant and when he finished his meal he went outside. He had to look at the big picture. They had needed a cook for some time. His father's cooking was lacking, and he couldn't cook unless it was outside on a spit. Willa and the baby wouldn't be a problem, she didn't seem to mind hard work either as she cleaned up the kitchen when they finished without asking. Perhaps it was he that was being stubborn here. Why fight a good thing.
Oh, he wasn't blind, there would be trouble. But trouble was something he and his father had put up with for a long time. They weren't the most popular people in town, considered too rough around the edges for most townsfolk.
Charlie helped Willa do the dishes and she put the baby to bed. Clay watched them work together. Then he began to see the big picture. They could help Willa and her child, in return they'd have decent meals, a clean house and some help around the place. He'd selfishly been looking at it like she was a woman, and he was a man and his father was matchmaking. But he was the one being selfish. Willa fit in here better than any woman he'd known except his mother.
She was grateful to his father and she didn't hesitate to clean the place either. The only thing she really feared was being in the way or causing them trouble.
But the joy his father seemed to get from Willa and the child was worth everything to Clay. How could a woman and a baby make such a difference?
"If you need to lie down, I'll move him." She told Charlie.
"If I do, I'll sleep with him." Charlie chuckled, "You see, I'm not afraid of babies. What's his name?"
"My mother named him; it is Elan."
"Elan, well, that's a nice sounding name, what does it mean?" Charlie asked.