"You're walking around with a knife in your hand for one thing! For
another you're getting too big for your britches! Now beat it, and if I
catch you using a knife that way again I'll take it away from you until
you show some sense!"
Head up, shoulders squared, Tad walked back around the house and Mike
rose to follow him. Joe gulped, penitent because he had spoken harshly
to Tad. But in some fashion that he did not understand the spell was
broken and Barbara's near hysteria was no more. She pushed herself away
from him, wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, and smiled tremulously.
Joe had a sudden inspiration.
"Look, honey, go tell your mother that I have some things to say to her
as soon as I've put the mule away. You might wait for me too. It's sort
of a family matter."
For a second she said nothing and Joe had a momentary little panic
because he thought she was going to start crying again. Instead, she
repeated her smile.
"I'll tell her, Daddy."
She walked away and Joe was happy again. His master coup had been
effective, and by sending Barbara to Emma he had at least taken her mind
from Clover's tragedy. Barbara made pets of all the farm animals, and
hers was a deep sensitivity. She could bear to see nothing she liked
hurt. At pig-killing time, which was always in the fall, she made an
excuse to visit her bosom friend, Marcia Geragty, and invariably she
stayed away until everything was over. Though she was a willing and hard
worker, nobody could count on her to help at the butchering--naturally
the men always did the slaughtering--and sometimes Joe worried about
her because obviously Barbara was destined to be a farmer's wife. As
such, she would have to know a farm wife's tasks and taking care of meat
was one of them. Joe knew another period of doubt and indecision.
Above all, he wanted for his children more and better opportunities than
he had ever known. But, though Tad would be wild with joy at the very
thought, was the west really a place for Barbara? She had grown up here;
all her friends were here. Was it right to uproot her, to tear her away
from everything she knew and loved? And--Joe still thought of her as
very fragile--could she bear up under the hardships of such a long
journey? Would the west offer her anything to compensate for what she
would lose by leaving Missouri? Joe comforted himself with the thought
that Barbara had a mind of her own. She could be counted on to express
her sincere convictions at the forthcoming family conference.
Joe wrinkled his brow. He'd had his setbacks, but none comparable to the
recent disasters. A whole crop ruined and a valuable cow lost. It seemed
that the land over which he had labored so hard had rejected him
completely. He knew a sudden wild urge to be away, to start immediately
for Oregon where a man was his own master. Joe led the mule around a
corner of the house and saw Tad leaning against the building.