"If you did half as much work as I do, the house would have been finished yesterday."
"You and Hercules!"
"That's right," Joe agreed. "How about hauling some of this timber while I work a bit more on the foundation?"
"Sure thing."
Axes swinging from their hands, they left the timber and descended into the meadows. They had already selected the site for both houses, with Joe's and Emma's on one side of the spring and Ellis's and Barbara's on the other. However, due to the slope it had been necessary to level the sites and the only tools they had for such work were picks and shovels. Joe glanced down at his new farm.
Since this was to be a permanent home, and not just an overnight stop, Emma and Barbara had busied themselves making it a comfortable one. They'd rearranged the fireplace, made a table from a log Joe had split for them, and even cushioned the chunks of logs that served as chairs. Now, while the children threw stones into the creek so they could watch the resulting splashes, Emma and Barbara were planting more vegetables in the garden Joe had plowed. Tad, Joe thought wryly, was probably fishing.
A vegetable garden had been first in order of importance because there was little need to worry about the animals. The grass was tall and rich and their discarded beds, thoroughly dried, as well as other grass Joe had mowed already made a respectable hay stack. As soon as they got time, if they ever did, Joe and Ellis would cut more. This season the mules, the horse and the cow, could winter on hay. Next year there would be grain.
Joe had plowed his vegetable garden near the creek, and it had been a back-breaking job. First he had mowed all the grass as short as possible, let it dry, raked it up, and added it to the hay stack. Then it had required all the strength in Joe's arms and all the power the mules had to turn the tough sod. Joe had plowed and cross plowed, turning the sod under. But all the labor had been worth while.
The earth was rich, with very few stones, and already seedlings were sprouting in it. Joe had purposely made the garden big enough not only to supply his family, but also to provide a surplus which he hoped to sell at Camp Axton. He couldn't imagine Major Dismuke planting any gardens. Regulations didn't cover them.
Joe and Ellis walked down to the garden. Kneeling in the soft dirt, patting a hill of corn in with her hands, Barbara might have been some lovely young wood sprite as she glanced up at Ellis. Joe left them alone—young lovers are not partial to sharing even one moment with anyone else—and walked over to Emma.