Page from a Tennessee Journal (AmazonEncore Edition)

under that shapeless dress she wore. Moving after her, he watched the sway of those rounded hips, her skirt hitched just above her knees.
    “Momma?” A boy of about nine stared at Alex as he cleared the top rung of the ladder. Dropping the quilt to the floor, the woman stooped to pick up her suddenly quiet toddler. The young girl stood barefoot near an alcove that held an older child with his leg tied to a broomstick. The girl’s mouth lay open, and Alex could see that she still had most of her baby teeth. The boy in the alcove pushed himself to sitting as he grabbed his sister by the arm and yanked her toward him. The boy’s shocked face matched the girl’s.
    “Evenin’.” Alex gave a half nod in the general direction of the children as he laid open the leather pouch on the small wooden table.
    He wanted them fed and out of the way as soon as possible. Hell, he’d send them down to sleep with the cows if this took much longer. Pulling out the jars of spring beans, he noticed the two barrels lined up at the table. Then he remembered he had given two of his own cast-off chairs to the tenants on the back-forty when he furnished their quarters. He made a mental note to look for real chairs for the woman. Alex’s hand smeared with grease as he unwrapped the pork chops. He thought he heard a quick intake of breath from the woman when he pulled out the bowl of smothered potatoes. He laid out one of the jars of peach preserves along with several squares of Eula’s corn bread. As he looked around for plates, Alex caught the eye of the toddler in the woman’s arms. The child’s arm suddenly jutted toward a pork chop. Squirming to be released, the toddler ducked his head inches from the rough table edge.
    “Henry.” Embarrassment shadowed the woman’s voice. “You ain’t been asked yet.”
    The boy gave a quick look at Alex and buried his head in his mother’s shoulder, setting up a soft whine. The woman bounced the child gently in her arms.
    “Where’s your plates?” Alex asked.
    “Lottie, go get the tins.” The woman nodded toward her girl.
    The little girl started to move but her older brother’s grip held tight on her arm.
    “Momma, can I be asked, too?” The girl wrestled her arm free as her eyes darted from the food-laden table to Alex and back again.
    “Lottie, ain’t I taught you to wait ’til you’re spoken to?” The woman’s rebuke pleased Alex.
    She was raising this get right.
    “And, drop your head.” The woman’s audible whisper landed on the girl, who ran to a corner of the room and retrieved four tin plates, which she placed on one of the crates since the table was full.
    The child scurried behind her mother’s skirt and dropped her head. Alex gave a halfhearted try at suppressing his smile. If the truth be told, this get had some pleasing ways, but they were definitely posing a problem. He stepped back to look for hanging hooks on the wall only to brush into the woman’s middle boy. Stepping quickly to avoid knocking over the child, Alex caught his heel in a large opening in the floorboard.
    “Momma, that man don’t know to stay away from the knotholes.” Little Henry’s tears turned to howls of glee as he pointed at Alex.
    The woman looked as though she wanted to squeeze herself down through the two-inch round hole and disappear. Instead, she pushed her son’s head deep into her shoulder. Alex could hear the child’s muffled pleas for air. The woman kept her hand tight on the back of the boy’s head. Wordlessly, she bobbed her apologies toward Alex. He backed up and started to walk toward the wall opposite the oldest boy’s alcove of a bed.
    “Suh, be careful. There’s holes all over these floors.” The middle boy pointed a finger at the next opening less than eighteen inches from where Alex stood.
    “Doug.” The woman’s rebuke to her child was mixed with sharpness, embarrassment, and clear confusion.
    Alex followed Doug’s pointing hand and saw no fewer than four knotholes that could definitely cause damage to a small child’s foot. He turned to look at Henry, his buried face finally released by his mother though she held her hand over his mouth. The little boy shook his head vehemently trying to push away his mother’s hand.
    “Why don’t you feed your get and tell me where the clothesline is.” Alex had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when Lottie shot past him and grabbed a pork chop.
    It took her mother one stride to reach the girl and