The two children ran down the stairs, Roskva giggling and Aneira trying to quiet her. Downstairs, the living room was dark and silent. The adjoining kitchen equally quiet and dark.

“Maybe mom isn’t awake yet.” Roskva whispered in the dark. Standing on the bottom step. Aneira past her and looked around the dark living room.

“No, their coat and shoes are gone.” Aneira said, pointing the missing items out. Roskva sighed disappointedly.

“Why do they have to leave so early?” Roskva jumped off the step and stomped to the sofa. “They aren’t even back before nighttime!”

“I don’t know.” Aneira admitted, “It has to be important though.” Aneira turned up the gas lamps so they could see.

“Well it isn’t fair.” Roskva said definitively. Aneira shrugged and sat next to their sister. They had nothing to say, only kicking their feet against the soft, worn upholstery.

“I have an idea!” Roskva sat up suddenly. “Let’s make dad breakfast in bed!”

“I don’t know, Roskva. Mom and dad said we aren’t supposed to use the stove.” Aneira said worriedly.

“We won’t use the stove.” Rosvka rolled her eyes and jumped off the sofa “We can just make some bread and jam!”

“Okay,” Aneira agreed. “And I can go out and get fresh milk from Snowflake!”

“Yes!” Roskva jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “I’ll get the jam!” Aneira ran to the back door and stomped into her mud boots.

“I’ll be right back!” Aneira called and ran out the back door with the tin pail. Roskva opened the pantry and pulled out a fresh jar of jam. Then she ran around to the bread box and looked in at the freshly baked bread from yesterday. She pulled out the bread loaf and placed it on a platter. Gathering a nice tray and putting the jam and a few plates on it.

Roskva tapped her foot and look at the tray.

“Eggs!” Roskva said to herself. “We should have eggs! How hard can eggs be?” Roskva ran to the wood stove and looked into the cold chamber. She threw a few split pieces of firewood into the chamber. Stuffing a bit of firestarter moss into the chamber and grabbing the tinderbox, she sat down and started trying to figure out how to light the woodstove.

Aneira skipped out into the dark early morning. Swinging the tin pail back and forth as they skipped along the muddy road to the barn. They didn’t need a light, they knew the way by heart. The barn was silent until Aneira lit the gaslamp with a click. Golden fire light lit up a corner of the barn. Showing the stalls where a few animals poked their head through.

“Good morning!” Aneira whispered to the animals. The mule yelled back in objection at being awake before the sun. Aneira giggled and ran to the cow’s stall. The brown triangular head rounded the stall door.

“Hi there Charlotte! Is there any milk for us this morning?” Aneira asked. The cow grunted but waited patiently as Aneira opened the stall door and put down the pail to grab the milking stool. Aneira hummed to themself as they sat on the stool and positioned the pail beneath Charlotte the cow.

Milking was anything but peaceful. There was the stress of making sure the milk went into the pail. The stress of making sure the cow was comfortable. That you had the right technique.

All things Aneira worried about every time they sat on the stool. Which was why they always had the chore of milking the cow. Aneira was much slower than Roskva but at least the milk ended up in the pail. After Aneira had milked more than enough for breakfast, they continued until the job was done. It meant a few extra minutes in which Roskva could get up to who knows what. A fact punctuated when Aneira heard the sound of the chickens being disturbed.

They finished their chore, listening to the sound of the coop. It didn’t sound like a predator, but it made Aneira anxious nonetheless. Finally, they finished and carefully took the pail, finishing the chore by feeding Charlotte. Then shutting the stall door and hurrying, carefully so as not to spill the milk, out of the barn and to the coop next door.

Roskva emerged with a basket of fresh eggs. Covered in chicken feathers and missing her coat.

“Roskva! What are you doing?” Aneira asked. The sight not relieving them at all.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Gathering the eggs!” Roskva said with a proud grin. “You were taking forever and I thought that a breakfast of toast and jam wouldn’t be enough so I thought, eggs! How hard can frying some eggs be?”

“Probably a lot harder than you think.” Aneira sighed. “And I told you, we aren’t supposed to touch the stove.” Aneira paused, a smell touched their nose. It smelt like smoke.

“What is that?” Aneira asked wearily.

“What is what?” Roskva asked.

“Did you touch the stove?” Aneira snapped. Roskva recoiled.

“I had to start it for the eggs.” Roskva admitted slowly.

“Roskva!” Aneira whined and walked as fast as they could with their pail of milk to the kitchen door. Roskva ran behind them, spilling a few eggs into the mud. Aneira opened the door to an angry hiss. Their father, disheveled and panicked, stood over the sopping wet wood stove with a pot that dripped water onto the floor. He turned to them as the door slammed open.

“Are you two okay?” He asked breathlessly.

“What happened?” Roskva asked, another egg falling to the ground and splatting on the kitchen floor.

“We’re okay,” Aneira nodded. “We were going to surprise you with breakfast.”

“I’ve told you both, not to touch the stove.” Their father sighed and put the pot on the counter.

“Sorry dad,” Aneira said. Bringing the milk pail in and putting it up onto the counter.

“I thought some eggs would be nice to have with breakfast.” Roskva said, holding up the basket now half full with eggs. Some cracked and oozing.

“Oh dear,” their dad said, staring at the basket of eggs. “Bring those over here.” Roskva brought the basket to their dad who looked into it.

“Let’s get the milk and eggs pasteurized so we can have breakfast.” Their dad said with a tired smile. Roskva grinned while Aneira brought out the stock pots used exclusively for pasteurizing their dairy products. They placed them onto the counter. Roskva pulled up the stools and the family gathered together to start breakfast. Nibbling on the bread while they heated the milk and eggs up to the correct temperature.

“Dad? When are we going to the market again?” Roskva asked as she swung her legs while sitting on the counter.

“I think the last one of the season is coming up next week.” Her dad said, putting away the eggs.

“Hooray!” Roskva cheered, “I’m so excited for the market! I love the pastry buns and ciders and teas and-”

“And we’re running out of room for the jams, butters, and eggs.” Aneira said as they handed the jug of fresh milk to their father.

“And we could use some nice vegetables, preserved and otherwise.” their dad said. Aneira and Roskva shared a disgusted look. Their dad smiled to himself.

“Well, the chores aren’t going to do themselves.” Their father said. Ushering Roskva upstairs to wash up and get dressed. “Aneira, will you stay here for a minute?” Aneira looked at their dad and shrugged at Roskva. She waved and ran through the sitting room and up the stairs.

“Aneira, you two were up early again today.” Their dad said. Walking over to his child and lifting them up to sit on the counter.

“Yeah, it happened again.” Aneira said sheepishly. “I had that dream about the Pale Lady and it scared Roskva.” Their dad nodded, leaning on the counter. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her tight.

“Your mother and I were talking about moving you into the attic. It needs to be renovated but it might help with the sleepless nights.” He said. Aneira looked down at their feet and shrugged their shoulders.

“What is it?” He asked. Leaning down to look at their eyes.

“Roskva will miss me.” They said, kicking their feet. “She always comes to me in the middle of the night. Who’s going to be there for her when she’s scared?”

“Your mother and I are still across the hall,” their dad said. “You’ll have time to adjust as we get the attic renovated for you.”

“I guess it would be fun to have my own room.” Aneira couldn’t hide the smile trying to creep onto their face. “And organize it however I want. That’d be fun.”

“Yeah, and we’ll get Roskva on board eventually.” Their dad said. Kissing Aneira’s forehead and lifting them off the counter. “Now go get dressed. There’s weeds to pull and chickens to feed.” Aneira laughed and ran off to wash up for the day.