A Wedding Quilt for Ella Read Free

behind them.
    “It’s none of your beeswax,” Clara said, marching forward.
    Ella laughed heartily.
    “She’s kind of young for that sort of thing,” Dora said dryly.
    “Old enough or not, that’s how these things go,” Ella said.
    “Ugh,” Dora said, “I don’t think Clara’s going to like this at all.”
    “That’s just because you’re so black about things,” Ella teased. “And say, how are you and…let’s see—Norman, isn’t it—getting along?”
    “You don’t have to make it sound worse than it is,” Dora said, grinning. “He’s not all bad.”
    “Can we talk about something else besides boys?” Clara asked.
    “I suppose we could,” Ella said.
    “If I’d caught someone like that Aden of yours,” Dora said, “I’d be cheerful too.”
    “Ach, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. And you’re not getting my Aden,” Ella said, trying to put a warning in her voice but failing. “Da Hah’s only made one of Aden, you know.”
    “You think he’s a dream, that’s what you do,” Dora said. “But let me tell you, no boy’s a dream. There’s always trouble hidden in there somewhere. Aden probably snores all night, I’d guess, and you’ll never be getting any sleep. That and the house will soon be full of babies.”
    “I really wish you two would be quiet,” Clara said a little louder this time.
    “Don’t worry about Dora,” Ella said, holding open the barn door. “Just remember what you felt when Paul was looking at you. That’s the real thing.”
    “You’ll be turning the poor girl’s brain to mush yet,” Dora said with a laugh.
    Inside the barn, the low ceilings of the first floor surrounded them. Cobwebs hung on the rafters, and bits of hay fell from the mow. The cows—the first batch already in the stanchions—greedily scooped up the small portion of feed in front of them.
    “Needs a good sweeping in here,” Dora said and saw Ella nod in agreement as the girls took down their stainless steel milk buckets and three-legged stools.
    “Evenin,” Eli, the oldest of the boys, hollered. “Late as usual, I see. Someday I’ll be findin’ me a girl who knows how to come to choring on time.”
    “We’re not late,” Dora said with a glare. She stood at the water bucket behind the cows and dipped the washrag in. “See, I’m ready to wash the cows.”
    As Eli turned to leave, Ella said, “Now, Clara, pay attention to what Dora is doing. That’s the first thing to do. You have to wash the underside of the cow’s udders because they’re in the field mud—and even worse—all day.”
    Ella got her own washcloth, motioned Clara closer, and pressed her shoulder against the cow’s side. “Sometimes you have to push the cow like this to get in. Then, once they’re over like this, you scrub hard. Always watch out for the tail. It gives a person a nasty whack.”
    As if to demonstrate, the cow brought its tail around in a solid thump across Ella’s back. “See,” Ella said, “I think she must have heard me.”
    Clara bent over to look at the udder of the cow and noticed little droplets of water, leftover from the wash, clinging to it.
    “You then do this,” Ella said as she sat down on the three-legged stool. “You stroke the side of the cow a couple of times and wait a little bit for the milk to come down. If that doesn’t work, then you have to try something else to relax her. Once the udder is full, you set your bucket on the floor, holding it tightly between your feet. That’s just in case old Bossy tries to kick. They usually don’t, but they do seem to know when someone new comes along. Now, with each hand squeeze and pull down. Don’t just pull straight down. Do it with a roll. Start with the top fingers and move downward.”
    Ella squeezed, and a stream of white milk shot into the bucket with a loud metallic sound. Across from her, Dora started at the same time. As the spurts of milk made a fast tat-tat-tat sound, two cats