Rationing everything down to the last crumb.
But there was only so much stretching possible before it became obvious they were going hungry.
The boys stopped complaining about portion sizes.
That was the worst part.
They just accepted the smaller meals without comment.
Their eyes hollow.
Their movements slower.
Harlon ate less than anyone, giving his portions to the younger boys when he thought no one was watching.
Norah caught him doing it on the third night.
"Stop," she said quietly.
"They need it more."
"They need you alive more than they need an extra spoonful of beans."
She pushed his bowl back toward him.
"Eat."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. None of us are fine. But you starving yourself doesn't help anyone."
Harlon stared at the bowl.
"There's not enough."
"I know. But dying won't create more food. It'll just leave six boys and a woman trying to survive winter alone. So eat."
He picked up his spoon.
On the fourth day, the snow finally stopped.
The world outside was transformed.
Beautiful and deadly.
Drifts had piled against the house so high they blocked the lower windows.
The path to the barn had disappeared entirely.
Everything was white and silent and hostile.
Thomas and Eli started digging immediately, creating paths to the essential buildings.
The work was brutal.
Hours of shoveling snow that weighed more than it looked.
Back screaming.
Hands blistered even through gloves.
Harlon worked alongside them, saying nothing, just digging with the grim determination of someone who knew stopping meant freezing.
Norah kept the fire going and tried to make their dwindling supplies last another day.
That afternoon, Charlotte Webb appeared.
She came on horseback, a feat that seemed impossible given the snow depth, leading a pack mule loaded with supplies.
She looked half frozen but triumphant.
"Figured you'd be running low," she called out as she dismounted. "Brought what I could spare."
Harlon met her in the yard.
"We can't pay you."
"Did I ask for payment?"
Charlotte started unloading.
Flour.
Cornmeal.
Dried meat.
Potatoes.
Not a fortune, but enough to buy them another few weeks.
"Consider it a loan. You help me come spring. We're even."
"Charlotte, don't."
She cut him off.
"I know what pride sounds like, Harlon, and I'm too cold to listen to it. Take the supplies. Feed your family. Thank me later by not being stupid enough to starve when help's available."
She wouldn't stay for coffee despite Norah's insistence.
Just delivered the supplies and rode back out into the snow before anyone could properly thank her.
That night, the family ate their first full meal in days.
No one spoke about how close they'd come to real hunger.
No one acknowledged how much worse it could have gotten.