Then he fixed it. He was still nailing the board back when Wesley appeared with the toolbox he'd found in the barn and set it beside Calder without being asked because Wesley was the kind of boy who found the toolbox first and asked questions after. Then he stood back and watched. Something got in, Wesley said. Something tried to got one hen.
Fox most likely. Called her hammered the last nail. This board should have been fixed a month ago. Why wasn't it? Calder glanced at him.
Because there was only me to notice it and I got busy. Wesley looked around the exterior of the coupe, slow and methodical the way he did most things. The board on the north side is soft, he said. Not broken yet, but it will be. I see it.
You want me to? I'll do it. You've got enough going. Wesley looked at him steadily. I don't have anything going.
I'm standing here. Calder handed him the hammer. This was the beginning of something between them that neither of them named or acknowledged, but that was real nonetheless. This daily passing of tools and tasks. This working alongside each other with a minimum of words and a maximum of things getting done.
Wesley was not a boy who liked to be complimented or encouraged. He liked to be handed the hammer. He liked there to be something specific to fix, and then he liked to fix it. Calder understood this in a way that he didn't fully understand yet, but that he felt instinctively. When they got back inside, Clara had already started the morning cornmeal, and Maisie was sitting at the table eating the last of last night's bread without apparent concern for the idea that there might not be more.
The twins were awake and had, seemingly, on their own initiative, stripped the dusty mattresses in the third room, and draped them over the porch railing, which was not something Calder had asked them to do, but which needed doing. Jonah was awake but quiet, sitting on the bottom porch step, looking toward the south field. Eddie was already at the fence. The horses had not yet figured out what to make of this, and there was a Palamino mayor named December who kept coming up to sniff Eddie's outstretched hand and then shying away, and Eddie was managing this with a patience that was slightly surprising in a 10-year-old who did almost everything else with aggressive enthusiasm. Benny had not yet appeared.
"Where's Benny? " Calder asked. He got up very early, Ruth said. Or possibly Rose Calder had not yet figured out how to tell them apart. Without looking at the small scar Rose had on her chin, he said he was going to find the creek. Calder set down his coffee cup and went out the back.
He found Benny a/4 mile from the house, sitting on the bank of the narrow creek that ran along the property's east edge, throwing rocks into the water with the systematic concentration of a scientist running an experiment. Benny. Benny looked up without alarm. "I found it," he said. "I can see that. " Calder looked around.
"The creek bank was overgrown. It would need to be walked for any hazards before he could let the younger children near it unsupervised. " He filed this. "Next time you want to go exploring, you come get me first. " I didn't want to wake anyone up. I was already awake, but I didn't know that. Calder sat down on the bank beside him.
The creek was running clear this morning, about 6 in deep over a flat gravel bottom. How'd you find it? Benny shrugged. I listened. You can hear it from the house if it's quiet enough.
Calder looked at him sideways. He hadn't known that. He'd lived on this property for 9 years, and he hadn't known you could hear the creek from the house. "Are there fish? " Benny asked. "Probably. " "Small ones? " Benny threw another rock.
"Watch the rings. Can we catch them with the right gear? Sure. Do you have the right gear? I have a length of line and some hooks somewhere in the barn.
Benny turned to look at him with an expression of such uncomplicated delight that Calder found himself slightly wrong-footed. He had been braced for problems this morning, for something complicated, for the inevitable moment when the reality of nine children on a working ranch began to generate the friction he knew it was going to generate. He hadn't been braced for a six-year-old on a creek bank being happy about fish. After chores, Calder said, "Everything has its order. What are my chores? " "We'll figure it out. " He stood up.
But step one, don't disappear without telling someone. Benny scrambled to his feet. "Okay," he paused. "That's a real rule, not just today. " "Real rule? What if I forget? " "You won't," Calder said.
"Because you're going to tie a string around your wrist to remind you. " Benny looked at his wrist. "I don't have a string. " "I do. " Calder pulled a short length of twine from his jacket pocket. He always had twine in his jacket pocket, the same way some men always had matches and tied it loosely around Benny's wrist. Every time you think about going somewhere, you look at this first. Then you come find me or Wesley.
Benny looked at the twine with the gravity of a boy being invested with a serious responsibility. "Okay," he said. They walked back to the house together and for the first 70 ft Benny was quiet, which was so unprecedented that Calder actually checked to make sure he was still there. He was. He was looking at the twine on his wrist.