Taking Care of My Own

I caught Mama looking out the window again. She must have felt my gaze, because she turned and smiled. Her eyes told the truth though. Mama was worried. Worried sick. She pretended everything was fine while she finished up cooking my lunch.

Funny, yesterday I wouldn’t have noticed. I was too anxious to get through my chores and get to the fishing hole. Today, though, Pa was late. Well, he was late yesterday, but he warned us the stage sometimes didn’t run on time and if it got in too late, he was going to stay in town.

He’d gone to pick up his sister. She was coming from Boston to help with the new baby. As if she knew I was thinking of the baby, Mama paused and rubbed her belly. Another month, I guess, before this one arrived, but seeing how she’d lost three since I was born, Pa wasn’t taking any chances. Mama was smiling again, and he wanted to keep it that way. His sister would take care of Mama and the chores, and help with the birthing when the time came.

What would happen if Pa didn’t come back? What would me and Mama do? I wasn’t a man yet, but I figure I was getting close. I was even thinking in a couple years I might see about courting Allie Beth. Yesterday, I knew Pa was coming back. He always came back. Today, I thought maybe I should work on that fence after I finished my milking. He’d be tired when he got back and it would be good if the fence was fixed.

When I finished that, I figured I’d go ahead and do the picking in the garden. The garden was Mama’s job, but my little brother or sister was getting in the way pretty good now. I kept looking down the road, sure I’d hear the horses any minute and see the wagon with my Pa and Aunt. It didn’t happen though, so I took the vegetables inside. Mama smiled her thanks when I handed her the basket.

I wasn’t fooling her any more than she was fooling me. She reached out and touched my cheek. Guess she could tell I was filling my time with work so I wouldn’t fill it with worrying about Pa. Speaking of which, the horse pen needed mucking. May as well get that done while I waited on my lunch.

But now I was back inside, watching Mama keep looking out the window. Watching Mama put on a brave smile every time I caught her looking. Watching her eyes tell me the truth she’d never admit. Mama was a strong one. She did what needed doing. Didn’t matter how she felt about things. I remember that last baby that didn’t live long enough to get born. That was early Spring a few years back. She was up hoeing the garden the next day, no matter how much Pa tried to get her to rest.

I think I understood better now. I was getting desperate to fill my time waiting for Pa to get back. Working was better than thinking too much about things you couldn’t control. Maybe I could go clean the tack after I finished eating.

What if Pa didn’t come back? Maybe I was near grown, but my little brother or sister needed a Pa. And suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. I stood up and walked to the fireplace. I reached up and pulled down the gun Pa hadn’t taken with him. I heard a gasp and turned around.

Mama was shaking her head at me. I looked her dead in the eye and shook my head right back. Pa taught me to mind what Mama said, but he also taught me that a man takes care of his own. If he didn’t come back, then Mama and that baby were mine to take care of. If he needed help, I needed to find him and give him help. If it was too late, I needed to know. Mama needed to know. She sure couldn’t go looking, but I could.

I saw her eyes change. They still looked scared, but a little proud now too. She reached out again and touched my face, like she knew her little boy was becoming a man. With another brave smile, she began packing up my lunch in a sack.