Part 2

The first incident happened about an hour after Helen and Peter had left the farm. Mrs. Gorman was in the kitchen prepping food for dinner. She heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see Trixie entering the kitchen with huge tears running down her cheeks.

Mrs. Gorman bent down to Trixie’s level and gently asked, “What’s wrong, honey? Why those big crocodile tears?”

“They’re not crocodile tears,” Trixie replied, “they’re Trixie tears.” She tried to wipe her eyes but then started to cry all over again.

Mrs. Gorman pulled Trixie into a gentle hug. “Now you just tell me what is bothering you. It can’t be that bad.”

“I didn’t get to give Moms a kiss good-bye,” she wailed. “I want my mommy.” And another wave of tears came.

Mrs. Gorman gently rocked Trixie making calming, shushing noises, and just let her cry for a few minutes.

Finally, she tried to explain to Trixie, “Remember, your mom told you she would be gone when you woke up. She’ll be back tomorrow night. We have lots of work to do before she and your dad return.” Trixie started to calm down a little. “Would you like to help me make some cookies?”

Slowly, Trixie nodded her head.

“What kind are your favorite?” Mrs. Gorman asked.

“Peanut butter,” Trixie replied enthusiastically.

Mrs. Gorman reached up in the cupboard to put the bag of raisins away and took out a jar of peanut butter. “Well, that’s exactly the kind I was going to make.” She pulled out a dish towel from a drawer and made a makeshift apron for Trixie to wear. As she measured the ingredients for the cookies, she asked Trixie questions about what her favorite things were.

Trixie wanted to help and insisted that her mom would let her pour the ingredients in the bowl.

“Okay,” Mrs. Gorman said. “You can add the flour. You need to be very careful and not dump it all in at once.”

Trixie was so excited about helping out that she immediately dumped all of it in at once, a cloud of flour rising from the bowl. Then she accidentally hit the knob of the stand mixer, knocking it into high speed. Before Mrs. Gorman could turn off the mixer, flour was everywhere.

Trixie, realizing she had done something wrong, looked up at Mrs. Gorman and started to cry again.

“Shh,” Mrs. Gorman soothed. “It’s only flour. I’ve done that myself a few times. We’ll just wipe off the counters and then we’ll get these cookies mixed up and ready to bake.”

By the time the batter was mixed, Mart and Brian had made their way downstairs as well. Mrs. Gorman had all three kids wash their hands, then she made makeshift aprons for the boys. Mart started to protest but Brian gave him a look and he stopped.

“We need to form the cookies,” Mrs. Gorman said. “Let’s do this assembly line style.”

“What’s assembly line?” Mart asked.

“I know,” Brian volunteered. “Instead of everyone making their own thing, each person has a job to make the cookie.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Gorman said. “I will scoop up the dough with this scooper. Then I need someone to roll the dough in a ball. Can you do that Brian?”

Brian nodded his head vigorously, but Mart had different ideas.

“I wanna roll the dough,” he insisted.

Mrs. Gorman, having raised a handful of boys already, was prepared for both Mart’s protest and Trixie’s eventual protest.

“I have the perfect job for you Mart,” she said. “But first I have to tell Trixie her job because it is next on the assembly line.” She reached up in the cupboard for a cereal bowl and drinking glass. After putting some sugar in the bowl, she showed Trixie what to do. “First you dip the bottom of the glass in the sugar and then you smash the balls of dough.”

Trixie started to giggle as she imitated Mrs. Gorman. “Smash, smash, smash,” she said.

Mart started to show his impatience again, but once again Mrs. Gorman was there to intercede. “Mart, now your job is the finishing job.” She grabbed a fork from the drawer and showed him how to use it to make a crisscross pattern on the cookie.

Mrs. Gorman once again showed the patience of a saint as she helped, instructed, encouraged, and mediated the cookie baking process. It took twice as long as it normally would have to get all the cookies on the baking sheets, but in the end they didn’t look too bad.

As she pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven, the young Belden children looked forlornly at her. “I bet you all would like to try out your creations,” she said. She reached for glasses and filled them with ice cold milk and placed a glass and a cookie in front of each of them.

“Just one for now.” Glancing at her watch she exclaimed, “Oh, my, where did the time go? I need to start dinner.” She looked around trying to decide what to do. She knew if the kids “helped” her with the meal it would be midnight before it would get done and probably dawn before the kitchen was cleaned up.

Just then Andrew came into the kitchen.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” she said slyly.

He looked around to see if she was talking to someone else. “Who, me?” he asked.

“Yes, you,” she replied. “If I don’t start dinner soon it will be midnight before it’s on the table. Could you use a few helpers for a little bit?”

“Sure,” he replied, a little less enthusiastic than he had sounded earlier. “They can come and help me clean up the ewe pens.”

All three children bounced up and down excitedly. They had no idea what the chore involved but they were excited just the same.

“Well, you’ll have to put on the rubber boots you brought,” he explained to his niece and nephews. “This is a dirty job.”

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for the children to get into their barn clothes and out the door. Andrew grabbed Trixie’s and Mart’s hands as they headed to the sheep barn.

When they got to the barn, Andrew explained, “I have to shovel out the pens and put new straw in them so the sheep will have a nice place to sleep. You kids can sit on this bale while I work.” He hoisted the three siblings onto the bale and then proceeded to go about shoveling out the pens into a wheelbarrow and taking it out to the manure spreader. He continued to do his work, glancing up only occasionally to see what his niece and nephews were up to.

He was just sweeping up the final scoop in the last pen when he heard a thud and a scream.

“Trixie, look what you did!” Mart cried. There was a slap and sobs could be heard.

Andrew raced over to the edge of the pen and saw Mart trying to stand up, covered in sheep manure. The wheelbarrow was tipped over and Trixie was standing frozen in her place with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Brian looked like he was torn between comforting his sister and helping his brother up.

“What have we here?” Andrew asked.

Trixie’s bright blue eyes looked up into her uncle’s, huge tears brimming over them. “I was just trying to help. I was going to push the wheelbarrow over to be unloaded. But then Mart said I was too little, and then he pushed me and I pushed him back and he fell and tipped the wheelbarrow over. I didn’t mean to do it. Then he hit me,” she sobbed.

“You’re too little to be pushing the wheelbarrow,” Mart insisted. “And you pushed me on purpose. I know you did.”

“Did not,” she insisted.

“Did too,” Mart said. He started to go over and push his sister again.

Brian, ever the peacemaker, tried to break the two up.

Andrew stepped in as well. “It’s all over now and no one was hurt. I’m sure Trixie didn’t mean to dump the sheep manure on you, Mart. Let’s get this last load dumped and then you guys can help me shake up the straw in the pens.”

The three children excitedly helped their uncle shake up the straw. Brian tried to do it as neatly as possible, trying not to make a mess of all the straw. Mart had the opposite idea. He took to tossing the straw in the air and letting it fall where it may. Trixie had her own ideas. She was busy making piles of straw along the perimeter of the pens.

“What are you doing, Trixie?” Andrew asked.

Trixie looked at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole wide world. “Well, you said we had to bed the sheep so I’m making their pillows. Now they will all have a place to put their head down tonight,” she said innocently.

Not wanting to disappoint his niece, Andrew replied, “That is a great idea. We need to hurry up and finish our chores, though. Dinner is going to be ready in a few minutes and we need to wash up and change our clothes. We don’t want to smell like manure at the dinner table.”

It took longer than Andrew had anticipated to get the children out of the barn. Trixie thought they should read the ewes a bedtime story and tuck them in. Mart then started to make fun of Trixie and another fight almost broke out. Brian was quick to separate the two. As they walked up to the house, Brian took Trixie’s hand and Mart skipped beside his uncle.

When the entered the kitchen, Mrs. Gorman started to say, “Good, I was just going to call you in for dinner.” Then she looked at Trixie and Mart and said, “I guess I better put everything on warm. We’ll have to get you two cleaned up before we eat.”

There were some protests about it not being time for baths. Baths were for right before bedtime. Mrs. Gorman made it an adventure and told the children they could wear their pajamas to dinner. In record time, the children had their baths and were seated at the table patiently waiting for their dinner.

Despite the delay, the meal was delicious and perfectly cooked. All of the excitement of the day had left the Belden children ravenous. They cleaned their plates without any prompting. Mart tried to con Mrs. Gorman out of a second piece of chocolate cake but she held her ground.

After dinner, Andrew took the kids into the living room where he asked Brian to pick out a book to read. Brian chose one about a farmer who sheared his sheep and then the sheep got cold. So, the farmer had sweaters made for his sheep. It was a cute book. Mart and Trixie kept interrupting their uncle with all kinds of silly questions, and he gave them some silly answers. Before long everyone was giggling and having a good time.

As Andrew finished reading the book, Trixie began to yawn, followed quickly by Mart and then even Brian. “We’ve had a long day,” Andrew said. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

There were a few obligatory protests but all three children headed upstairs to the rooms they would be sleeping in.

Mart and Brian were tucked in first.

“You know which room is mine,” Andrew said. “If you need anything, I’ll leave the hall light on and my door open. Just call out.”

By the time Trixie and Andrew had left the boys’ room, the two of them were sound asleep.

Putting Trixie to bed was another story. First, she had to go to the bathroom and insisted she was a big girl and could go by herself. One nightgown change later and she then needed a drink. Andrew hesitated because he didn’t want her to have an accident. Fortunately, Trixie was more fascinated with the Dixie cup, which she called a Trixie cup, than she was with the water.

Finally, he got his niece settled into her bed, surrounded by a mound of pillows and her favorite stuffed bunny. She had just fallen asleep when the phone rang. He raced down the hall to pick it up before it woke anyone. It was Peter, checking on how the children were doing.

Andrew assured him that everything was going well, all three kids were sound asleep, and they would look forward to seeing them around six tomorrow. He hung up the phone and decided to call it a night as well, but he had spoken too soon about things going well.

Andrew immediately fell into a sound sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Long days that started long before the sun rose and ended after the sun set were all he needed to fall asleep at night. Suddenly something started to pull on his hand and he jumped with a start. As he started to clear the sleep from his mind, he heard a loud whisper.

“Uncle Andrew, did I wake you up?” It was Mart.

Andrew sat up looked dazedly at his nephew and then the clock on the nightstand. It read 11:30. He tried to stifle a groan. “I’m awake now,” he replied.

“I was just wondering if I could help drive the tractor tomorrow?” Mart asked.

Andrew shook his head in wonder. “If you go to bed and stay there for the rest of the night, I will let you sit in the cab while I drive. How about that?”

Mart thought for a few minutes and then replied, “Okay, but only if I can have a cookie.”

Andrew was about to refuse him but then thought, What the heck? I’m his uncle. Spoiling nieces and nephews is part of my job.

Andrew looked conspiratorially at Mart. “We have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake up Mrs. Gorman.”

He got out of bed and put on some slippers. When they got to the door, Andrew held his finger to his lips and said, “You have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake up Trixie or Brian. This is our adventure.”

“We’re going on an adventure!” Mart whispered excitedly, rushing into the hallway.

“Shh,” Andrew said. “Remember we have to be very quiet.” He started to tiptoe down the hallway, exaggerating his steps along the way. When they got to the staircase, they stopped. “You have to be very careful and follow right behind me. There’s a step that squeaks if you step on it just right.”

Carefully, they made their way down to the kitchen. Andrew placed Mart on a chair at the kitchen table and then took several cookies out of the cookie jar and poured each of them a glass of milk. While they ate, Mart told his uncle all about Crabapple Farm and how he helped his mom weed the garden.

As they finished the last drop of milk and the last cookie crumb, Mart’s eyes started to droop and he yawned deeply. Andrew rinsed the plate and glasses and set them in the sink. Then he turned to his nephew and said, “Come on, Champ. Let’s head back upstairs.”

As they headed out of the kitchen, Andrew heard a noise and turned around to see Mrs. Gorman in her bathrobe standing in the pantry door, smiling knowingly and winking at him.

It didn’t take long to get Mart back in bed and soon he was fast asleep.

Andrew headed back to his room and he, too, fell asleep without any problem. He woke up with a jump when he heard a howl.

“Uncle Andrew-ew-ew,” came the scared voice.

He opened his eyes to see Trixie standing in the doorway, light shining behind her, with her thumb in her mouth, clutching her beloved stuffed bunny.

He shook the sleep from his head and made his way over to his niece. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked.

“I’m not Sweetie,” she replied, “I’m Trixie.” And she started to sob even harder.

“Okay, Trixie, what’s the matter?”

“I want my mommy!” she cried dramatically.

He bent down, wrapped his arms around her shoulder and whispered, “It’s okay. Remember, your mom and dad went to that meeting. They will be back tomorrow for supper.”

“But I want them now,” she wailed.

He looked down the hall to see if her cries had woken up Brian or Mart. Fortunately, they seemed to still be asleep. “They are sound asleep in their hotel room. I talked to them after you went to bed and told them how much fun you were having and what a big girl you are.”

She sniffed and said, “I am a big girl.”

“Do you think a big girl would like a cookie and some milk before we go back to bed?” he asked.

Trixie vigorously nodded her head up and down. “I think two cookies would make me not miss my mommy. I’m a big girl, you know.”

Andrew chuckled, took her hand in his, and together they made their way down the stairs to the kitchen where he took out a plate and placed four cookies on it and then poured them both a glass of milk.

Andrew tried to think of something to talk about that would distract Trixie from thinking of her parents. He looked at the bunny she still clutched with one hand.

“What’s your bunny’s name?” he asked her.

Trixie looked at him with all seriousness, like he must have been daft. “It’s Bunny, course,” she said matter-of-factly.

Andrew nodded. “Of course,” he said. “How did I not know that?”

“Bunny is my bestest friend,” she said. “Even better than Brian. Mart is not my best friend. He is always being mean to me.”

“Now, that’s not true,” he replied. “It just seems that way. Your dad and I were the same way growing up. But instead of being so close in age like you and Mart, your dad is ten years older than me.” After he said that, he realized that Trixie probably had no real idea what he was talking about.

“Dad is ten years older than you?” she asked. “Brian is only seven.”

“That’s right,” he said. “You are a very bright, young lady.”

Trixie beamed and then yawned.

“Finish up your milk,” he instructed. “You need to get back to sleep. We have lots to do tomorrow.”

Trixie’s tired eyes lit up with excitement. “What do we have to do tomorrow?” she asked.

“You’ll have to wait until then to find out. Now it’s off to bed with you.” Once again, he led one of his charges out of the kitchen and as he looked back, there was Mrs. Gorman standing there. Again she smiled with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Trixie willingly went back to her bed and like her brother was asleep before Andrew had left the room.

He glanced at the clock as he climbed into bed and groaned. It said 3:30. In an hour he would be getting up to begin his day. Unlike his niece and nephew, Andrew had a hard time falling asleep this time and it seemed like only two minutes from the time sleep finally came to him and when his alarm went off.

He groaned as he reached to shut it off. He was tempted to hit the snooze button but knew that would only delay all of the things that needed to be done today. He wanted to work on one of the tractors before breakfast without the help of his niece and nephews.

After brushing his teeth and shaving, he went downstairs to grab a cup of coffee before heading out the door. It didn’t matter how early he got up, Mrs. Gorman was always up before him and had mug of steaming coffee waiting for him. Even during lambing season, when he’d get up in the middle of the night to check on the ewes, she would be up with a mug of coffee waiting for him.

He worked on the tractor for an hour. It didn’t take long to figure out what the problem was and with a few turns of a wrench, a little elbow grease, and a couple of choice words, it was running like new.

He headed back to the house to get some breakfast and check on the kids. As he opened the door, he was surprised to hear uncontrollable giggling coming from the kitchen. He stepped into the washroom next to the kitchen door and washed up before entering the kitchen. There sat the three children in their pajamas and Mr. Gorman was sitting across from them. They all had plates of eggs, bacon and hash browns in front of them.

“So, I heard about this one time when your Uncle Andrew was about Trixie’s age. They had a cow on the farm for milk. Your dad, Uncle Harold and Uncle Andrew were helping your grandpa. Well, your dad was helping, anyway. Harold and Andrew were goofing off. Apparently, the two got to fighting about something and Harold pushed Andrew and he fell into the gutter. It was half full of manure and slop. I heard if it wasn’t for your dad, Andrew might have drowned.”

The three children stared at the foreman in wonder.

“Really?” Brian asked. “Dad saved Uncle Andrew’s life?”

“He sure did,” Andrew replied. Three sets of eyes turned to stare at their uncle with awe. “He pulled me out of the gutter right as I started to slip and fall. I was a mess. Your grandma wouldn’t let me in the house until I was hosed down. She swore after that episode she was going to install an outdoor shower.”

“An outdoor shower would be cool,” Mart said. “I wonder if Dad would make us one.”

“If you managed to get covered in manure, he probably would,” Mr. Gorman said under his breath. Only Andrew heard it and he chuckled.

By now Andrew had sat down at the table and Mrs. Gorman had put a plate of the steaming breakfast in front of him. As he ate, the children asked him all kinds of questions about the farm.

Trixie wanted to know if she could take a lamb home with her. She thought it would be a great pet and that it could sit on her lap the entire ride home. Mart was more interested in how all of the hay got into the hay mow. He was all ready to go explore up there. Brian asked about the tractor and if it was fixed.

Andrew patiently answered each of their questions and explained that the hay mow was not a safe place for kids to play in. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see how late it had become.

“Who wants to help me feed the bottle lambs?” he asked. All three kids shouted with excitement. “Well, you can’t feed them dressed in your pajamas. Hurry up and change your clothes and you can all help. You did such a good job yesterday.”

The Belden children quickly finished their breakfast, carried their dirty dishes to the sink and raced upstairs to get dressed. Trixie insisted she could dress herself. When she came back downstairs, her shirt was inside out. Andrew wasn’t quite sure how she got it buttoned. Her jeans were on but one leg was pulled up over her knee. She had on mismatched socks and her shoes were untied.

“Let me tie your shoes,” he said stooping down to complete the task. “We don’t want you to trip and fall.” He didn’t say anything else about her attire.

They quickly got their rubber boots and coats on before heading out the door. Trixie and Mart raced ahead of Andrew, wanting to be the first person in the barn. Brian held back, walking along with his uncle. They walked in silence. Brian seemed to be deep in thought about something and Andrew was enjoying the antics of his young niece and nephew.

“Wait for me before you open the door,” Andrew yelled at Trixie and Mart as they approached the barn. “I don’t think any ewes got out, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Impatiently, the two waited. As soon as Andrew and Brian reached the barn door, Trixie and Mart began jockeying for who could go in first.

“Slow down,” Andrew said. “You don’t want to excite the sheep. Then they won’t come near you.”

“Can I mix up the milk?” Brian asked.

Andrew directed him over to the old milk house where there was a sink with hot water. He showed Brian where the pitcher, bottles and whisk were and gave him instructions on what to do. Then he hurried back into the main barn to make sure Trixie and Mart were not getting into mischief.

Just as he entered the barn, he saw Trixie trying to climb up several bales of hay where White Socks was resting with her brood. She could barely climb up the first bale and was reaching for the second one that was teetering precariously on the other bale. As she started to pull herself up on it, the bale tipped and tumbled to the ground with Trixie falling on top of it.

Andrew rushed over to his niece, fearing she had been hurt. “Trixie, are you okay?” he asked.

Strange sounds were coming from her and he braced himself for the worst.

Trixie, laughing, pushed herself up to stand and brushed off the hay chaff. “That was fun!” she exclaimed. “Can I do that again?”

“No,” her uncle said firmly. “Remember how I said the hay mow was not a place for kids to play?” Both Trixie and Mart nodded their heads solemnly. “Well, it’s not safe to climb on the hay bales either.”

“But you let us sit on them yesterday when we petted the kittens,” Mart pointed out.

Andrew paused for a minute. How did an almost five-year-old get so smart? “Well, remember I helped you up and you were just sitting.”

“That’s what I was doing,” reasoned Trixie. “I just want to hold Ralph.”

Just then Brian poked his head out of the milk house. “I need some help pouring the milk into the bottles,” he said.

“Stay here and don’t move,” Andrew said, “I’ll be right back and then we can feed the lambs.”

For once Trixie and Mart took directions literally and had not moved when Andrew and Brian returned.

Brian assisted Trixie in feeding Tom, and Andrew kept an eye on Mart while he fed Jerry. When they were done with that chore, Andrew helped the three children onto hay bales and handed each of them a kitten.

While the three children played with the kittens, Andrew went about filling feeders and cutting hay in the bunk for the ewes that were in the barn.

When they were done in the barn, they walked out into the barnyard and Mart spotted the tractor.

“You promised I could ride in the tractor with you,” he reminded his uncle. Andrew stifled a groan as Trixie insisted that she wanted a ride, too. Brian, ever the peacemaker, didn’t say a word but Andrew saw the yearning in his eye.

“There’s not enough room for all of you to ride on the tractor at the same time,” Andrew said. “Everyone will get a chance but you will have to wait patiently on the front porch for your turn. And if you fight you don’t get a ride.”

For moment it looked like there might be a fight about who would get to ride in the tractor first. Brian gave his siblings the evil eye and the two younger children then sat patiently waiting for Andrew to decide who would go first.

“Come on, Mart,” he said. “Now be careful and don’t touch any buttons unless I tell you to.”

As Mart and his uncle headed to the tractor, Brian and Trixie sat down on the porch steps. Boredom set in and she started to play some sort of game that she appeared to be making up, jumping up and down the steps in some sort of unknown pattern.

Brian had pulled a small notepad and pencil out of his pocket and appeared to be writing something. After a few minutes he looked up from his work and noticed that Trixie was nowhere to be found.

“Trixie,” he called. “Where are you?”

There was no response so he called again. He got up and walked up the stairs to the wrap-around porch and looked around. Still no sign of his sister. He started to get concerned but didn’t want anyone to know he hadn’t been doing his job.

He walked down the steps and looked around the outside of the house to see if he could see her. Still no sign of her. He looked up and saw Uncle Andrew driving the tractor back to the house. As soon as it had stopped Brian raced to it, trying to be brave but Andrew could see the look of worry on his face.

As Brian got closer to the tractor he looked up at the cab and noticed that there were three people in it.

“Are you looking for someone?” his uncle asked. “I picked up a stray on the way back. Seems someone decided to chase a butterfly down the driveway.”

Trixie was sitting next to her uncle on the edge of the cab while Mart was sitting in front of him helping to steer the tractor.

As Andrew stepped down from the tractor, the front door opened and Mrs. Gorman stepped out. “Lunch will be in fifteen minutes,” she announced.

Andrew helped the two children down from the tractor. “I owe Brian a quick ride on the tractor. Do you think that Trixie and Mart can help you?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I have the perfect job for the two of them.”

She pointed the two children back toward the house as Brian and Andrew headed in the other direction.

“Now, this is very important,” Mrs. Gorman explained as they walked to the kitchen. “First we have to wash our hands really well. You’ve been around the lambs and kittens and we don’t want to get that all over our food.”

Mart and Trixie headed to the washroom next to the kitchen. Mrs. Gorman started to get out the plates to set the table. After a few minutes she realized it had been quiet for a little too long. She walked into the washroom to discover the water running in the sink and overflowing onto the floor. Trixie and Mart were having a grand time stomping through the water.

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Gorman said trying to remain calm and firm without causing excitement.

The two Belden children looked up, then looked down at the mess they had made. Trixie’s eyes started to well with tears. She started pulling the towels off the rack to try and wipe up the mess.

“We were just trying to get clean,” Mart tried to explain.

Gingerly, Mrs. Gorman stepped into the washroom, turned off the water and opened the drain. Then she reached into the linen closet and grabbed an armful of towels.

“Let’s get this cleaned up before everyone comes in for lunch,” she said. She handed each child a towel and then used the rest to mop up the water. She did her best to wring the water out of the towels and then carried them into the laundry room and threw them in the clothes washer.

Turning back to the children, she realized they would both need to put on some dry clothes. She guided them upstairs, picked out clothes for both of them and supervised them as they stripped off the wet clothes and put on the dry ones.

As they came back down the stairs, everyone else came in from their chores.

“We had a slight mishap. You guys wash up and I’ll get lunch on,” she said. She placed the two children on chairs and then efficiently got the table set and lunch on the table. It was chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with cookies for dessert.

Surprisingly, lunch was stress- and accident-free. By the time Trixie had eaten her second cookie she could hardly keep her eyes open.

“Come on, lazy bones, it’s nap time,” Mrs. Gorman said. Trixie tried to protest but her eyes continued to droop.

She lifted Trixie out of her seat and carried her upstairs. By the time she got her tucked in, she was sound asleep.

When she returned to the kitchen, Mart was negotiating with his uncle about whether he and Brian needed to rest.

“Please, Uncle Andrew. I promise to be good,” Mart pleaded.

“We can help you with your chores,” Brian pointed out. “I know how to feed the lambs and Mart does, too.”

Andrew smiled, remembering how he and Harold used to try to convince their dad they were old enough to do chores. He remembered his dad letting him drive the tractor all by himself when he was six. He shook his head, thinking about Brian driving his tractor at the age of seven. Of course, his tractor was a lot bigger than his dad’s.

Andrew glanced up as Mrs. Gorman came back into the kitchen. She gave him a look that said, “You get to handle this one all by yourself.”

He thought for a few seconds and then said, “All right. You can both stay up but that means that you have to listen and if you get crabby you will have to take a nap later.”

The three headed outside. The first thing they did was check on the sheep in the field. These were the ewes that had lambed at least several days ago along with their lambs. Looking out into the pasture it looked like there were white marshmallows bouncing around the field. They checked the waterers to make sure they were working properly and watched to see if any lambs were showing signs of distress.

Mart was enthralled with all of it. He wanted to get in the pen and pet the sheep. Uncle Andrew reminded him that they weren’t used to being petted and that the moms were very protective of their babies.

They saw Albert heading out to the field with the corn planter. He stopped to talk to his boss.

“I think I have enough fertilizer to finish this forty but I’ll need to come back if I reach the Anderson farm,” Albert said.

“Don’t push it. You’ve been at it all day. We are still a week or so ahead of schedule for planting and there isn’t any rain in the forecast until Sunday.”

The rest of the afternoon, Brian and Mart followed their uncle around the farm. Mart kept up a constant chatter asking about everything that was being done. He was like a sponge absorbing all that was going on around him.

After a couple of hours, both Brian and Mart seemed to be wearing out. Brian finally hinted that they should go back to the house with the excuse that he had to use the bathroom.

Andrew chuckled and started to suggest he do like most farmers do and just go around the other side of the barn but thought better of it. He didn’t think Peter would appreciate Mart deciding that the garden was a better bathroom than the one in the house. Well, maybe Peter wouldn’t mind so much, but he was sure Helen would be mortified.

As the three entered the house they heard Trixie and Mrs. Gorman talking. “I am going to take Tom home for a pet,” Trixie said.

“You are?” Mrs. Gorman asked innocently. “How are you going to get it home? Your car is pretty full with your mom and dad and your bothers.”

“Oh, he can sit on my lap,” Trixie replied.

“What will you do when you have to stop at night? I don’t think they allow lambs in the motel,” Mrs. Gorman pointed out. Trixie was sitting at the kitchen table with paper and crayons in front of her. While she chatted, she continued to create.

“I’ll just tell them it’s my stuffed lamb, Lambie,” Trixie said matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Gorman tried to hide her smile. She looked up to see Andrew standing in the doorway with Brian and Mart.

“Trixie,” Mart said emphatically. “you cannot take the lamb home. I am not going to sit next to it all the way to Sleepyside.”

“Am too,” she insisted.

“Are not,” he replied.

Trixie stood up and reached her hand back to punch her brother. Brian quickly stepped in between them and almost got punched himself.

“Mart and Trixie,” Andrew said sternly, giving both of them the evil eye.

Surprisingly, both children solemnly turned to their uncle.

“None of that,” their uncle continued. “Your parents are going to be here soon and I don’t want to have to report that you guys were naughty.”

Disappointing their uncle was something none of them wanted to do. They quickly stepped away from each other and went to sit at the big kitchen table.

“I was just going to suggest some cookies and milk,” Mrs. Gorman interrupted. She placed a plate of cookies on the table and went about filling glasses half full of milk for Trixie and Mart and three-quarters full for Brian. Andrew poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that sat warming on the stove.

Between bites of cookies, Mart regaled everyone about his adventures that afternoon. He surprised his uncle by remembering, verbatim, just about everything Andrew had told him.

When they were finished with their snacks, Brian went up to his room and found a Candyland game. The three children sat at the table and played it while Mrs. Gorman started dinner. For once there were no arguments about how the game was played or whose turn it was.

They had just finished the game when a car pulled into the driveway. Glancing out the window, Mrs. Gorman said, “I wonder who that could be.”

Ever curious, Mart and Trixie rushed to the door and left Brian to pick up the game. As Mrs. Gorman opened the front door, two people stepped out of the car.

“Moms!” Trixie and Mart yelled in unison. The two raced out the door and actually managed to get down the front steps without fighting or tripping over one another. Each child wrapped their arms around one of their mother’s legs so tightly she couldn’t move.

She bent down to give each of them a kiss on their heads and wrapped her arms around the two. Looking up, she spotted Brian who had calmly joined the group. She reached an arm out to him and was almost toppled over.

“Trixie and Mart,” their father said. “I know you missed your mother, but if you aren’t careful someone is going to get hurt. There are plenty of hugs for everyone.”

Neither one of them made an effort to disentangle themselves from their mother. One would have thought that it had been years, and not just a day, since they had seen each other.

Peter gently bent down and picked Trixie up. “I think you grew two inches in one day,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “What did Mrs. Gorman feed you? Lamb’s milk?”

“No, Daddy,” Trixie giggled. “Just lots of cookies.”

Peter winked at his wife and then very seriously said, “That will do it.”

Slowly, the family of five made their way up the porch steps and into the house. The parents listened to their children tell of all of the excitement they had while they were away.

With the excitement of Peter and Helen’s arrival dying down, Mrs. Gorman went about getting dinner on the table. Not knowing exactly when the guests would be arriving, she had prepared a casserole for dinner.

“So, Andrew, in a couple of months, there is a banker’s convention in Denver. This one is four days long,” Peter started. “Since this worked out so well, can we bring the kids here while Helen and I go along to the conference?”

Not seeing the twinkle in his brother’s eye, Andrew stammered, “I’m not sure. It depends on the week and we could be really busy getting the crops in, and we might have visitors from Scotland, and…”

Not able to hold it in any longer, Peter burst out laughing. “You should see the look on your face. You and the Gormans did a wonderful job taking care of the kids, but I know how tiring that can be, especially if you aren’t used to it.”

Andrew blushed a little and then punched his brother in the arm. “Well, if you get in a bind and want to go, I’m sure we can work something out. Mart is going to be quite the farmer someday. In fact, all three of them were good helpers.”

Silence overtook the three children. They sat up a little straighter in their seats and beamed with pride.

When supper was finished, Helen insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. “Mrs. Gorman, let me do that. You go and sit down and enjoy yourself. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Mrs. Gorman said. “How about I sit down here an enjoy another cup of coffee. That way if you have any questions about where things go, you can ask.”

In the end, Mrs. Gorman could no sooner sit and watch someone else do the dishes in her kitchen as Helen Belden could. As they worked together, they exchanged recipes and talked about how things had changed since her kids had been toddlers.

Shortly after dinner everyone decided to call it a night. It had been a long few days for everyone.

The next morning everyone got up bright and early. Peter wanted to get on the road as soon as possible so they could get a good start on the drive back home. Trixie insisted on going out to help feed the lambs before they left. She tried to convince her dad that they should bring one home with them but was a good sport about it when her dad told her no.

Without too much effort, the car was loaded. Everyone exchanged hugs and Mrs. Gorman handed Helen a box of chocolate chip cookies to have on the trip home. Andrew and the Gormans waved as the car headed down the driveway and turned onto the town road.

The sun was shining and it looked like it would be a warm spring day. Mr. Gorman was going to go out and finish up the last of the planting and then clean up the equipment before he put it away for the year. Andrew mumbled something about going out to check on the sheep in the pasture. He climbed in his truck and when he was out of sight of the farm buildings, he rolled down the windows, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sun beating on his face and warming up the cab. Within minutes he was sound asleep. Raising kids was much harder than raising sheep.

 

This website is © 2005-2025 Mal and WendyM. All rights reserved. Graphics copyright by MaryN, 2021; images from pixabay.com and used with permission.