I do not own The Last of the Mohicans.
I am very glad to be back in this world! :D
Into The Wild
The Cook
Her name is Mrs. Donnelly.
She is of medium height and stout build.
Strong forearms from stirring huge pots of stew and working dough for bread.
Her face is broad and ruddy, hair graying.
When she speaks, it's of a practical manner.
"Work that dough so it'll rise. Put your back into it now."
Brusque.
And not quite unkind.
She is of the frontier. Her job is to keep a table from before break of day 'til long past sundown.
The manners of man and country and world do not matter so much to her.
Only the procurement of food.
The preparation.
And delivery.
She is . . .
"Well, what have we here then?"
. . . the cook.
They have found her in the cookhouse.
"I am Hannah and this is Timothy. Staff Sergeant James Claremont sent us down from Fort Cumberland. He said you would help us."
An eyebrow goes up. Not quite challenging, but certainly of question.
"And how might that be, my girl?"
Hannah hands over the letter.
It is summarily read, digested.
Folded and stuffed into the woman's voluminous skirts.
As the woman herself now speaks again to the one who has come to her.
"Been through the mill then, have you? Here. Sit and fill your belly."
The main general lot eat in the mansion, in the open space below the post superintendent's quarters.
The special guests and the superintendent himself, above in the quarters themselves.
And all as it may.
But this now, this, the cookhouse, is the dominion of Mrs. Donnelly.
None dare cross her here.
For it is from she the main sustenance of the post comes.
Others may hunt and fend for themselves.
Without so much as a by-your-leave.
And that is good.
Better yet, bring forth offerings to her to share with all.
There are some who are tasked with this very job.
The slaughterhouse, the smokehouse, yes, they work in together with her.
She is the ruler here, the very last word.
She is the cookhouse.
There are many tables within the space, workspaces for various storings and preparations.
And a table here before her, as she stands.
Stools as well. Shoved against the wall.
And it is to this table, onto one of these stools, she bids the displaced woman sit.
Moves aside sundries upon said table.
And replaces them with a bowl, filled with a big heaping portion.
Spoon added. Mug as well.
And addresses the slightly overwhelmed woman.
"These the ones that helped you?"
And the woman, Hannah, the babe trussed to her.
Who quietly affirms.
"Yes."
And the woman nods to them that are still standing.
"You all sit down too. Fill your bellies."
Bowls, she provides again.
One for each.
Spoons. Mugs.
And Alice is moved to speak.
"Such generous portions."
Portions, even for the Mohican men, Alice sees, full to the top.
"Thank you."
And the woman nods matter-of-factly.
"That'll be the way Big Spoon'll have it."
"Big Spoon?"
Quick nod.
"'S what the Indians call him. Thomas Cresap. He's the one who built this place."
Alice swallows before speaking further.
"Why do they call him 'Big Spoon'?"
Mrs. Donnelly, hardly ever still as she wakes, speaks while she works.
"Whenever he's around, he insists on makin' sure everyone has a fillin' portion. Indians included. Ain't many white folks out here like that."
And she calls to a waiting girl, young enough then to be still in twin braids.
"Fetch a dipper of milk. Quick now."
The dipper is brought.
"And the bread from this morning."
It is brought.
And much the same as the pemmican, the bread is dipped into the milk.
Let to soak.
And . . .
"Here. Feed that child while you're chewin'."
. . . offered.
They sit . . .
"Now, how many of you all stayin' and for how long?"
. . . for a span of moments.
It is Alice who speaks.
It has been her from the beginning, this venture.
And so it continues.
"The men and I are traveling."
And the woman's sharp gaze turns to Hannah.
"You lookin' to stay?"
She hesitates, nods.
"I have nowhere else to go. I do not wish to make the journey back."
This is considered.
And tested.
"Only two real jobs for a woman out here. Cookin' and whorin'."
Hannah visibly flinches.
Mrs. Donnelly watches her for a moment.
And gifts her a serious eye and a hint of a smile.
"Can you stir a pot, girl?"
"Yes."
"Can you knead dough?"
"I can learn."
Mrs. Donnelly slaps her hands together then, turns and busies herself.
Before turning back..
"We'll need to keep an eye on that child over there. He won't be still for long."
And she returns her attention to them, leans over to the boy.
"You stay clear of that fire, my boy. Ain't cooking person here in these parts."
And Timothy . . .
"-aba-"
. . . seems willing to comply.
"Good."
At least for the time being.
The same waiting girl is showing Hannah to her sleeping quarters.
The Mohican men have stepped just to the side to converse amongst themselves.
And Alice takes the opportune moment to pull Mrs. Donnelly aside.
"Will it be safe for her here?"
The cook, butcher's knife in hand, huffs.
Casts her gaze down.
Hefts a loaded musket from within her skirts, just enough for Alice to see.
Gifts her a reassuring smile . . .
"'Bout as safe as anywhere else out here in the wild."
. . . replacing the weapon safely away once more.
"Now, go have one of your men, that fella of yours that watches you per'aps, to bring more kindling for the fire. We got extra guests tonight."
And starts to work . . .
Yes . . .
. . . on what once may have been a guinea fowl . . .
. . . I believe Hannah will be very safe here . . .
. . . with same said butcher's knife.
. . . at that.
Hannah is as settled as she will be.
And it is time . . .
"Will you be alright here?"
. . . for Alice and her Mohicans to take their leave.
But still . . .
"I know it is not as you expected."
. . . Alice hesitates.
She does not wish to leave this woman alone to herself.
Abandoned once more in the wilderness.
But Hannah's smile . . .
"Yes. I believe I will manage."
. . . is stronger than she has been. Braver.
"I will stay close to Mrs. Donnelly. She seems . . ."
A ghost of a smile skirts over her face.
". . . capable."
A duck of the head.
"In truth, she reminds me of you. After a fashion."
It does not seem an insult.
And Alice decides she will muse upon this at a later date.
She puts out a finger for the child still in Hannah's arms to grasp.
He takes it, attempts to gnaw.
"What will you do with Timothy? Will you find someone to take him?"
Hannah looks at the babe, more content in her arms than Alice has seen him the entirety of her trip.
Grazes a thumb across his soft, unlined forehead.
"No. I will raise him. He is my son now. I am his mother."
And she looks to Alice.
"Thank you for all you have done for us, Alice. I will remember you always."
They embrace tightly for a moment, the child between them squirming in protest.
Then Hannah releases her.
And looks to the men.
"I misjudged you before and I apologize. You are good men. I am grateful to have traveled with you."
Uncas nods.
Chingachgook of the Mohican people smiles gently.
Nods.
And then . . .
"Farewell, Alice. I will remember you always."
"Farewell, Hannah."
. . . it is time to leave.
Thomas Cresap, aka, Big Spoon, is a historically accurate figure. One of his wives was named Hannah but the age timelines do not match up so our Hannah is not his Hannah. Be cool though, she wasn't any wimp.
And as for Mrs. Donnelly (complete fiction), I want to write realistic fic here. But with the way the world is, I also want to write things that are sometimes kinder and gentler because I don't want to make the world in here like the world out there. There's just got to be some grace somewhere.
So here's Hannah's further saving grace after Alice and the Mohicans. And she's fashioned after the incredible Kathy Bates (as if that wasn't obvious before to DinahRay). Love me some Kathy.
Also, for anyone wondering why Alice hasn't had an emotional reaction to killing that warrior, it's because she's not really dealing with her emotions right now. She's kind of shut herself off to focus on dealing with Hannah and Timothy. Except for where Uncas had the interaction with the soldier.
But it will be addressed. Because no matter how badass Alice is becoming, she's still a human being like the rest of us.
So thanks to DinahRay and BlueSaffire for so graciously reviewing! :)
See you tomorrow for one more chapter in this particular story arc.
There's something we still need to resolve.
Then, after that, we'll take a little break before continuing on with the story.
Sound good?
See you tomorrow! :D