"Boy, oh boy, oh boy!" Winterson breathed. "Would Martha like to see them! You have fourteen more chickens than you thought you had!"
"Yes," Emma agreed happily. "You may take a hen now, Mr. Winterson."
"Obliged to you," Winterson declared. "Right obliged, and Martha will just kick up her heels for pleasure! She's been so lonesome for a hen, and I'll bring the piglet when I fetch her to visit."
Emma put her chicks in the living-room corner and the hen, feathers fluffed, clucked about them. Then she settled down on the floor and the babies ran beneath her feathers. Joe glanced at them and made a mental note to build a chicken coop as soon as possible. They needed a stable, too. But the mules, the cow, and Ellis's horse, were in no danger from prowling predators. The chickens were, and they must have a safe place.
"This is right nice," Winterson eyed the interior of the house approvingly. "Right nice and big too. But I reckon you need it for that clutch of young ones you have. Martha and me, we built only one room and we're making out in that."
"Don't you have any children?" Emma asked.
"Not yet, but it won't be long. Martha and me, we were married the day before we left Vermont. The next day she said, 'Henry, I want three boys and three girls. We can start on them as soon as we're in Oregon.' Those were her very words. That's exactly what she said to me. Looks like we can expect the first one in about two months."
Emma said, "I must be there."
"Good of you, right good of you, and I know Martha will be pleased about it too. I cudgeled and cudgeled my brains wondering what I could do for her, and all I could think of was the hospital at Camp Axton. But Martha will be glad to have you around and she'll feel better about it too. I know she wants the little one born in her own house. It will be sort of lucky."
"Hope you don't aim to keep all six of 'em in one room," Joe said. "Young ones can be right lively at times."