#sharlaottomasfh

After Church on Christmas Day, the Ottomas’ gather in the front room, excitement making it impossible to sit still. Along the bare wall behind the dining table hang five wool stockings; simple things suspended from wooden pegs rather than a grand mantel, but all sag pleasantly beneath the weight of Christmas treats.  Finally, after the children have grown more impatient than Peter can stand, he gives a nod, and all 5 of them, even David and Sharla, (“They’re still our children, Peter!”)  tear into their bounty.

All are delighted to discover handfuls of roasted chestnuts, dried apples, and a few precious peppermint sticks tucked inside. David and Sharla exchange amused grins as they watch Tommy count his sweets for the third time, while Anna and Beth compare whose chestnuts look bigger. Samantha stands quietly beside Peter, smiling as she watches her children delight in modest treasures, grateful that it doesn’t take much to delight them. 

As the afternoon passes, Samantha frets about the kitchen, basting the beautiful roast that Yves had traded in exchange for butter and fresh cream that fills the farmhouse with a delightful scent. On the table already rests a berry pie, golden crust sprinkled lightly with sugar. Samantha cannot help but smile every time she looks at it.

"You may look," Samantha has warned her children, "but if one berry goes missing before the Reverend arrives, you'll all be helping me wash dishes until spring." She shoots a glance to her husband, “That goes for you, too!” 

Finally, a knock sounds at the screen door, and Peter greets the Reverend warmly, shooing off the grouping of chickens that have gathered on the porch. Samantha wipes her hands on her apron, extending her arms toward Goopy.

"Merry Christmas, Reverend. I'm very glad you accepted our invitation. No man should spend Christmas alone while there's room at our table." The Reverend smiles, grateful, and pauses just inside the doorway, grateful for the warmth and smell that greets him. 

Before long, Samantha serves plates of roast, and everyone gathers around the table. Samantha asks the Reverend to lead them in a prayer of gratitude to the Watcher, and after he finishes, the family digs into their plates. 

The following morning, the routine at the Ottomas farm changes very little. Peter and David work side by side, their breath hanging in the frigid air as warm milk splashes steadily into the pails. Once the work has finished, Peter wipes his hands and glances toward David.

"Walk with me a moment." After David has followed him into the yard, Peter continues. "I'd like you to ride into town with me. You were awake by the end of it, and it won't hurt for you to hear how these things are handled."

By midmorning, horse and wagon carry them into Freedom Hollow to see Sheriff Pleasant. Daniel is out on the front porch, and he glances up as the Ottomas’ approach, greeting them both, extending a hand to Peter. 

"I wish this was a social call, sir.” The sheriff's expression turns serious. "Russ Bear broke into our house last night."

Peter recounts the evening from beginning to end; the strange noises overhead, finding Russ descending the staircase with a sack from Dora's bedroom, the fight in the front hall, and the outlaw's escape into the darkness. Daniel’s brows furrow. 

“If Russ is bold enough to rob farmhouses now, he'll grow bolder yet."

With their business concluded, father and son make the short walk to the Oldies' General Store. Christmas is only days away, and despite the excitement of the previous night, Peter refuses to let it spoil the holiday for the children, and David helps him pick out a handful of small treats to add to the stockings. 

By the time they return home, the sun is already beginning its descent as the family cheers and Sharla steps into adulthood, a young woman ready for the next chapter of life. As darkness settles over the farm, Samantha retreats to the kitchen to begin supper. 

Before long, the comforting aroma of onions, carrots, potatoes, and other secret ingredients known only from a well-worn recipe card. It is Dora's soup that she swore could chase away any ailment from a winter chill to a weary spirit, and recently there have been one too many runny noses in the house for Samantha’s liking. Soon everyone is gathered around the table (as many as the table allows, anyway), warming their bellies with steaming bowls of soup.

After supper, David and Sharla are tasked with the cleanup.

"So…” David begins, attempting small talk with his now adult sister, "I heard Florence Delarosa isn't marrying Toby Bruenig after all." Sharla raises an eyebrow, and David continues. “Apparently he called the whole thing off.” 

Then he leans in conspiratorially.

"I heard Jodie Larson saw him behind the barn dance with someone else." Sharla giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.

"David! You shouldn't spread gossip."

"I'm not spreading it, I'm preserving important town history."

Peter Ottomas arrives to the Trading Post early with wheels of early cheese, churned butter wrapped carefully in cloth, and the determination of a man who knows winter waits for no one. Near the far end of the square he finds Lazlo, sleeves rolled, spectacles slipping down his nose, vinegar bottles arranged with tidy precision.

They speak briefly of how much vinegar a proper winter’s keeping truly requires. In the end, Peter trades two small wheels of cheese and a crock of butter for several jugs, satisfied with the fairness of it. They shake hands business done, neighborly respect intact.

Not far away, David drifts toward Olive Spectre’s wagon. He hesitates only a moment, staring at one stoppered vial that catches the light in a peculiar way.

“For confidence,” Olive says, her sharp eyes fully aware what sort of confidence a boy his age seeks. David clears his throat, trying to appear composed as he hands over his coin. The vial disappears quickly into his pocket.

That evening after supper, the family lingers at the table a little longer than usual. Samantha brings out a small honey cake, sweetened with care, though modest in size, and places it between Anna and Beth.

“Well,” she says warmly, smoothing her apron, “it seems our girls are not so little anymore.”

In  a breath Anna and Beth, inseparable since infancy, stand taller, features sharpening into young womanhood. Peter stands and clears his throat, offering each girl a quick, slightly embarrassed embrace before murmuring how proud he is of the young women they are becoming.

Later that night at the barn dance, lanterns sway overhead and boots stomp in time to the fiddle. David, heart pounding, uncorks the vial he’d purchased from Olive. He swallows the potion in one determined gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

For a moment, warmth floods him. His shoulders square. His grin widens with renewed bravado. He strides back inside, certain of triumph.

An hour later, he stands awkwardly near the cider barrel, having been politely declined twice and laughed at once for stepping on a hem during an overly ambitious twirl. The potion may have bolstered his courage, but it has done nothing for his timing.

By Sunday morning, the Ottomas table is set with boiled eggs, toast browned carefully at the hearth, and a pot of weak coffee for the adults. The family eats together in relative calm, hair brushed and collars straightened for church. Peter leads them out just as the bells begin to ring, and the family stampedes to the chapel much like their very own herd. 

That evening, after hymns and handshakes and whispered gossip in the churchyard, they gather again at home for a supper of meat pie, crust golden and filled with the last of autumn’s bounty. The twins discuss their new responsibilities, Tommy still complains about something inconsequential, and David is uncharacteristically quiet.

Morning in the Ottomas household begins well before the frost has lifted from the pasture. Peter stands in the kitchen garden, calculating what must be dealt with before the worst of winter sets in. The butter churn rests on the porch; the cheesecloth hangs ready. With Trading Post day approaching, there is no room for oversight.

“David,” he calls toward the pasture. “Fetch the wagon. I need a sack of salt and two fresh jugs of vinegar from the General Store. Tell Herb it’s for curing and keeping, he’ll know to charge it proper.” David is already half out the door before his father finishes his instructions.

At the General Store, David does his best to look older than he is, leaning one elbow on the counter as he repeats his father’s order with practiced seriousness. He counts out the coins twice; once for accuracy, once for show, and lingers just long enough to overhear snippets of town gossip before hoisting the heavy parcels into the wagon and heading home at a brisk pace, cheeks red from the cold.

Samantha, meanwhile, has been awake nearly as long as Peter. With all but David at the schoolhouse and the house blessedly quieter, she attacks the pile of laundry that never seems to shrink. Sleeves are scrubbed, collars wrung, stockings hung carefully. It is repetitive, back-breaking work, but she hums as she does it, determined as ever.

By late afternoon, the kitchen smells of simmering stew and fresh bread. Samantha moves between stove and table with practiced ease, wooden spoon in hand. Sharla sits on a low stool in the corner, brow furrowed fiercely over a tangle of yarn. Her knitting needles click uncertainly. The scarf – at least that’s what it was intended to be – puckers and narrows inexplicably at one end.

“It’s meant to do that,” she insists when her mother glances over.

“Of course it is, dear,” Samantha replies kindly, though her lips twitch.

The family gathers once the light begins to fade. David returns wind-chapped and triumphant with the requested goods. Boots are shed by the door; hands are washed in a basin before supper. They bow their heads briefly before eating. Conversation is lively; Tommy complaining about sums at school, David recounting something exaggerated about a mule outside the general store, Sharla defending her knitting. Peter listens with exhausted satisfaction. 

After the dishes are cleared and the younger ones coaxed toward bed, the kitchen grows quieter. Peter lingers where Samantha stands, wiping down the table. He rests a hand at her waist in passing and she glances up at him. The romance between them has somehow not withered under years of labor and children. He presses a brief kiss to her temple before fetching another log for the stove as night settles fully outside.

Peter is the steadfast head of the Ottomas household; a man whose hands are calloused from farm work. He tends to his cows with care, ensuring each animal is healthy, and manages the production of milk and butter that sustains both his family and the wider community, bartering milk and butter at the Trading Post on Saturday and selling off some of the cows to Butcher Yves when the herd grows too large. Peter carries the memory of his mother, Dora. Her absence is felt deeply, though Peter continues to honor her legacy by keeping the farm running with the same dedication she instilled in him.

Peter’s devoted wife, Samantha inherited the tireless role of matriarch of the household after Dora’s passing. Samantha is the glue that holds the household together, getting all the children out the door and heading for the schoolhouse while maintaining the standards that Dora once upheld. Her skirts are often stained with milk or butter, all while never complaining about the constant demands of a household that includes five children, a bustling farm, and the preparations for weekly market trade. She does it all with a mindset that earns her the respect of neighbors and visitors alike, though she does often find herself caught in a daydream of the days when she intended to be a school Marm. 

The eldest child, David, is an earnest young man with a romantic heart. He has spent countless hours in the pens with his father, learning the art of cow tending and the rhythms of farm life, but his thoughts often wander to matters of the heart. Head-over-heels for Angela Pleasant, David’s heart was crushed when she chose to become engaged for status, yet he clings to the memory of a stolen, tender moment behind the Barn Dance when they were teenagers and holds out hope that one day he might yet convince her to marry for love.

Sharla, the family’s eldest daughter, dreams of finding a reliable and handsome husband and never having to wake up to the scent of cow pats again. Sharla works alongside her mother, caring for the younger children, helping with the chores, anything that doesn’t involve the animals. Sharla longs for a life of stability and companionship, and she waits patiently for the day her Prince Charming finds her at a Barn Dance. 

Tommy, the youngest son, is energetic, inquisitive, and eager to help. He spends his days assisting with the cows, tending small plots of the farm, and learning the skills necessary to one day manage portions of the household’s livestock. While he is still learning discipline and responsibility, Tommy shows signs of becoming a capable and dependable member of the family, and if you can’t find him, he’s probably wandered off to throw axes behind the barn or climb the crabapple tree.