Tobey quoting their mother?) say more than once: “Good manners are for when
there’s not a thing else in the world you can think of to say.”
“And you must be Mr. Stubblefield. I’m Olivia Killion. It’s a pleasure to
make your acquaintance.” He shyly shook the hand Olivia offered.
“None of that Mr. and Mrs. nonsense,” Iola said, making no effort to take her eyes off Olivia’s trousers. “We’re going to be just like family, so we’re plain old
Iola and Filmore to you.” The friendly words did not resonate in Iola’s voice.
She spoke in the tone of a mother biting back what she felt was well-deserved criticism.
Olivia smiled and nodded. “You must be thirsty after your long walk,” she
said, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful, as if unaware of the woman’s glowering disapproval. “The water barrel is right over here. Please, make
yourselves at home. We don’t have any chairs yet, but those stumps aren’t so bad. I’ll be right out, soon as I get out of these work clothes. It’s just so dangerous, trying to burn off a field wearing a wide skirt. I learned that the hard
way yesterday – set my dress right on fire,” she lied.
She escaped into the cabin, closed the door, and released a long sigh. Then she hurriedly tore off her shirt and trousers, pulled a dress over her head, and ran
a comb through her hair. When she came back out the Stubblefields were
standing as she had left them.
“This is for you.” Iola reached down to pick up the basket that she had set in
the grass and handed it to Olivia.
Olivia lifted the cloth to find four eggs, a jar of jam, and a slab of butter. “Oh
my, that is so kind of you. Thank you so much. We certainly will enjoy it. Let me
put it inside, out of the sun.”
“That’s what neighbors do for each other. We all know how hard it is starting
out. Times we had nothing to eat but lumps of flour boiled in milk. Or in plain
old water.” Iola followed Olivia toward the door and peeked in.
“Come in,” Olivia said and showed them to the inside stump chairs.
Filmore had to bend at the waist to pass through the door and the top of his
head brushed the roof poles when he stood straight. It was dark and stuffy inside
the cabin and far more pleasant out in the yard, but Olivia thought it more hospitable to invite them in. Iola seemed just as curious about the little cabin as
the women back in Five Rocks had been about the Killion home.
“Where has Mourning gotten to?” Olivia wondered aloud. She stepped
outside and saw that he was still working in the field.
“Mourning, come meet our neighbors,” she called, hands cupped around her
mouth.
He hesitated for a moment and then drove his axe into one of the stumps and
walked slowly toward the cabin.
“Iola and Filmore Stubblefield, I’d like you to meet my hired hand,
Mourning. Mourning Free.”
“Pleasure,” Mourning mumbled, hat in hand.
“Surely, surely.” Iola nodded.
“Nice piece of land you’ve got to work,” Filmore said.
“Yes sir, it is,” Mourning said. “I best be gettin’ back to workin’ it. Nice meetin’ you folks.”
“Your boy put this roof on?” Filmore asked.
