Bittersweet (41 page)

Galen stripped out of his coat and slid it around Ivy’s thin shoulders.

“Oh!” Ivy gave him a startled look. “Thankee.”

“Can’t have you getting sick,” he said gruffly.

Colin looked at the bed of the wagon. If he tried, he could fit back there, but the expression on his face nearly shouted his thoughts.

Galen gave him a good-natured shove. “It’ll be a tight fit, but the three of us men can sit up front.”

While Colin scrambled in, Ishmael brushed by and said in a low tone, “Yore gonna be a real good daddy.”

Galen fought the urge to bellow a denial. What good would it serve? He couldn’t help keeping track of time. Exactly three months and one week ago, Ivy had ensnared him with her lie. Never once did she show the least sign of relenting and telling the truth. Whoever got her into this mess was either long gone or so hardhearted that he wasn’t likely to step forward now and claim a woman almost five months gone. Or the man was already married.

Daddy. The word hit him hard. Until now he’d been so angry at Ivy, he’d not thought things through.
I’m married to her. I didn’t
sire that babe, but ’tis legally mine.

Lord, you know the man whose heart most needs to be touched today. I’m
leaving it in your hands
.

During the service, they sang “Sinners, Dismiss Your Fear.” Ma had asked Pastor Dawes what hymns he’d planned for today, and she’d spent the last week teaching Ivy and Ishmael the lyrics. For all the musical talent Ivy lacked, Ishmael counted double his fair share. To her credit, Ma didn’t flinch once, even though Ivy stood on her other side and butchered the notes.

Between Eddie Lufe and Ivy, we have the wrong notes and the wrong
words
.

“Christ, the Lord Is Risen Today” came next. Ivy and Ishmael thoroughly enjoyed blasting out
Alleluia
at the end of each line. The congregation took Communion, and Pastor Dawes read from Matthew. “The angel said to the women, ‘Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for He is risen, as he said.”’

He preached about how Christ had endured so much and how very dear the price of salvation was. The message was simple, yet profound. Leaning over the podium, Pastor then said, “I want you all to notice something. In this verse, Jesus had told them what would happen, but they were all so busy with what they thought and planned, these believers didn’t harken back to what He’d said.”

Interesting
.

“Those women went to the tomb to tend to burial matters; God gave them the wondrous mission instead to meet an angel and go proclaim the good news. The daily obligations and the ordinary demands of life pull at us. We figure we’ve got a handle on how things are supposed to be.

“In Gethsemane, Jesus knew what lay ahead. He even asked God to let the cup pass from Him; but He chose to be obedient and endured the worst torture. He did it because He knew submitting to the will of God would bring about redemption.

“We have to roll back the stone to our hearts and souls. What God wants for us, what He plans for us is far above what we could ever dream or expect—but we’ll never know unless we die to our selfish plans and desires and allow Him to do as He wills.

“Children …” Pastor Dawes motioned. Sean and Dale scooted out into the aisle, and Greta Long and her cousins, Sophia and Olivia, slipped out to join them. Laney and Ruth had gotten to church early and placed ordinary wire egg baskets filled with yellow, pink, blue, and deep mahogany dyed eggs behind the piano. The pastor handed the children those baskets. They in turn carried them down the aisle and passed them down the pews. Galen took a pale yellow egg.

“These eggs represent the stone that sealed the grave. Each has a cross on it. Jesus sacrificed himself for you. You can hold fast to what you have, or you can relinquish everything to the Lord by rolling the stone away and giving Him free rein to do as He wills with and through you.”

This egg is the color of Ivy’s hair. Lord, before I came I prayed for you to
touch the heart of the man who needed to be touched the most. I was so sure it
was the baby’s father; it wasn’t. It’s me. I have to surrender my dreams and
wishes, don’t I? You’re asking me to roll away the stone in my heart and accept
that Ivy is my wife
.

Slowly, he unclenched his fingers and let the egg tumble into his other hand.

The congregation sang, “Angels, Roll the Stone Away” as the benediction. As people left the church, Ishmael took Dale by the hand and didn’t budge. He frowned at Galen. Galen raised his brows in silent inquiry.

“What ’bout the hitchin’ post?”

“Hitching post?” Galen couldn’t imagine what he meant.

Ishmael pointed to the altar. “That thar hitchin’ post. Ain’t that whar he hitches brides to grooms?”

“Yes. But no one’s getting married.”

“But that’s whar he hitches folks to God, too, ain’t it? Only the parson didn’t stand up thar and give the invite.”

“The altar is always open, Ishmael. Did you want to dedicate your heart to Christ?”

“Yup. Dale here tole me he’d holp me when’er I decided I wanted to do it.” He looked over Galen’s shoulder. “I’d ’preciate it if ’n you’d take Sis on outta here. We’ve always done ever’thang together, but I reckon this is sommat a man does on his lonesome.”

The pale yellow egg in Galen’s left hand took on a new significance. Galen had relinquished his wishes and now witnessed the unfolding of God’s plan. In dying to the dream of Laney being his mate here on earth, Galen now gained a brother for eternity. “Ishmael, take Dale on up to Pastor Dawes. They’ll be happy to hitch you to Jesus.”

Laney sat out on the front porch early in the afternoon on Monday, reading a dime novel. Amanda and Ruth had both read it and agreed it was among the best they’d ever read. Turning the page, Laney had to agree.

“Miss Laney …”

She jumped. “Oh! My. Mr. Lufe! You surprised me.”

He stood on the step and looked a little sheepish. “Sorry. I get like that when I read, too. Must be a good book.”

“It is. If you like something with adventure and a little mystery in it, you’ll have to check it out of Ruth’s library once it opens.” Laney closed the book and handed it to him.

Eddie read the title and nodded. “I’ll remember. Best I hand it back now, though. I’m always tempted to read the last page, just to be sure things work out. Nothing like reading a whole book only to have them leave me hanging until the next one. I can be patient about a lot of things, but …” He shrugged.

Laney laughed. “It’s cheating to read the last part, but I did that recently myself. It was for the same reason.”

“Did it ruin the book or did you still enjoy reading it?”

She thought for a minute. “I can’t truly say. The book wasn’t very good, so I’m not sure if reading the ending first really spoiled it.” As he handed back the book, Laney remembered her manners. “Would you care to have something to drink?”

“No, thanks. I just dropped by to let you know I haven’t forgotten about bringing you grapes. I checked the vines myself the day before Easter. They look healthy, so I’m counting on a bumper crop.”

“That’s kind of you, Mr. Lufe.”

“We’re neighbors. Have been for years. I’d take it as a favor if you’d call me by my given name.”

For being such a massive bear of a man, he had a gentle side. Hope and warmth shone in his hazel eyes.
I don’t love him. I don’t
know if I ever could. But I have to let go of my dreams. It would be wrong
for me to mislead him, though
. “We are neighbors, and you’ve become a friend of my family. I suppose it would be okay, Eddie.”

A big smile lit his face.

Before he could say anything, Hilda tromped out of the house. “Laney, who are you talking—Well, as I live and breathe! Eddie! Nice to have you come by. Isn’t it nice, Laney?”

She nodded. It was nice. Sort of. Not romantic, but friendly.

“The eggs at church yesterday—they were such a good idea,” Eddie told Hilda. “I chose one that you colored with beets. I think Laney must have drawn the cross on it. It was very fancy. Beautiful.”

“We ought to do it again next year,” Hilda declared.

“Traditions are important. They feel good in here.” Eddie tapped his chest. “I’ve already decided to have a tree in my house for Christmas this year. Knowing you’ve been doing that made me think how sometimes the old ways are best. Of course, just about the time I think that, I ride the train and decide the new things are better.”

After he left, Laney remained on the porch and stared at the cover of her novel.
Lord, I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what to
think or where you are leading me. The old dreams, of being Galen’s wife—I
don’t think they’ll ever go away. I know you are blessing his marriage with Ivy,
and it makes me happy and sad all at the same time. Is Eddie right? Do I
need to just decide the new things are better and deny what my heart still says?
Can my mind truly change my heart?

“Cain you b’lieve all these here clothes?” Ivy asked her brother as she plucked off a wooden pin and folded the shirt it had held to the line. “Mondays, I wanna pinch myself to be shore I’m not dreamin’ thangs up. Woulda niver ’magined us havin’ more’n the rags on our backs.” She put the shirt in the basket Ishy was holding.

“You looked right purdy in that Easter dress yestermorn.”

Ivy fought the uncomfortable suspicion that Galen and Ishmael were cooking up a plot to talk her into doing what the parson called “seein’ the light.” Ishmael went and got hisself religion, and then today at breakfast Galen suddenly announced that Ishy and she could talk to each other whenever they wanted to. Ivy didn’t want her twin to start in on her, so she tried to steer the conversation away from church. “Yup. Bakin’ flour-built bread and gettin’ to wash and iron a big ol’ heap of clothes—them don’t seem like chores to me. The washboard pert near sings while I rub the dirtiest spots ’cross the ribs. Makes me think back to old Mendel Grisson back home, how he’d play a washboard and a jug at the same time.”

“You got yoreself a sharp memory, sis.”

“I shorely do. The blankets ain’t dry yet. Last time I was tryin’ to dry blankets, they took ’most all day.”

“Back when we was in the tent?”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed as the wind pushed a slightly damp blanket against her. “Grass was still wet from the rain we had the night afore. Soon as I spied them blankets Galen left layin’ on the grass, I spread ’em o’er the shrubs.”

Ishy turned to push the blanket away from her so she could reach the last shirt. “The blankets from Galen.”

“Yup.”

“And it rained.”

Ivy put the last shirt on top of the others in the basket and gave it a satisfied pat. “Uh-huh.”

Ishy dropped the basket, and the shirt bounced out into the dirt.

“Now, why’d you go and do that?” Ivy hunkered down to pick it up.

Ishy stared down at her. “You tole me Galen gave you them blankets.”

She nodded as she rose and shook out the shirt.

“But you jist said soon as you spied them—”

Ivy realized she’d let down her guard and not kept her story straight. “’Course I spied ’em.” She scrambled to make everything right. “Galen set ’em down so he could give me a hug.”

“And they got wet.”

Relieved, she nodded. “It rained the night afore. ’Member?”

Quick as could be, Ishy’s hands shot out and curled around her arms. “They wouldn’t have soaked through. Not thick blankets like that—not from bein’ on wet grass for a few minutes.”

At the same time fear was chilling her spine, heat was rushing to her face. Ivy forced a laugh that sounded strained even to her. “We sorta got busy and forgot ’bout them.”

Her twin’s grip tightened and his eyes narrowed. “You lied to me. You told me Galen brung them blankets to the tent.”

“He did.” She pulled free. “Later on, he did. B-but they was wet. Sore wet. So I put ’em on the shrubs. To dry out.”

“A minute ago, you tole me you hung ’em on the shrubs soon as you spied ’em.”

“I did. When me and Galen come back outta the tent.”