Forevermore (17 page)

“Didja tell your brother ’bout how God come through for you today?”

Jakob looked from Hope to Annie.

“If it’s okay with you, Sydney and Velma invited me to go to Forsaken and help with everyone’s babies while their mothers go to the farms to cook each day. If . . . if it’s all right.”

Relief flashed through him. Volkner was going to be hovering around the area for the entire town’s harvest. With Annie tucked safely elsewhere, any number of catastrophic encounters would be averted. “Thanks be to God for His goodness. Ja, Annie. This is
sehr gut
!”

Worry still creased her features.

Hope robbed Annie of the bowl. “This looks delicious. I’ll take it out to the springhouse in a little while. Suppose you tell us what’s a-wrong, Annie?”

Annie chewed on her lower lip, then blurted out, “Sunday. Volkner—he will see me.”

Jakob had thought about that, too. So far, he hadn’t come up with a solution. He looked to Hope.

“I’ve been prayin’ on that. Bible tells us to keep the Lord’s Day holy. Two things would work. On the one hand, you could stay home and read the Bible. I’d be happy to stay with you and listen. You got a fine voice for readin’. On the other hand, we could be the first to get to church and take a pew straight up front. Then we’d wait and be the very last to leave. On the other hand, that Leopold Volkner feller is so moon-eyed over Marcella, I reckon he wouldn’t see a snake if it kicked him in the knee.”

Jakob and Annie exchanged a look.

Hope burst out laughing. “Oh, the both of you are dreadful nice not to ask me how I sprouted a third hand. Some days, it would come in right handy. Handy!” She lifted her palm and laughed harder.

A tense giggle shivered out of Annie.

Like a strong breeze that made a whole field of wheat wave and shimmer, Hope’s presence filled the kitchen. Jakob couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of her glow.

Mornin’, Lord Jesus. Your world shore is purdy today. All them birds are a-raisin’ their peeps to you, and the trees are a-wavin’ their limbs like they wanna shout hallelujah. Lots to be done today, Father.

Strengthen—
“Hope.”

“Mr. Stauffer.”

He glanced back toward the house, then approached her. He looked like a man set on doing something. She reckoned she might as well meet him halfway and save him some time. They ended up between the springhouse and the barnyard.

Brows furrowed, he cleared his throat. “I need to ask you something.”

“Shore.”

His eyes locked with hers. Resolve and something else rested in those blue depths. “Are you . . . um . . . were you ever married?”

“Me? Married? Mercy sakes, no.”

Some of the strain left his features. He nodded.

“Why’d you pop up with that odd question?”

He half shrugged and motioned as if to wave off the thought. “I realized I hired you and knew nothing about you. Like where you came from or the like.”

“I was born in Kansas, but most of my girlhood was here in Texas.” She set down the pails she held and plucked a dandelion. Holding it up, she smiled. “But I’m like this here dandelion. God plants me someplace for a while, then He uproots me. By the breath of His will, He sends me on.” All it took was one steady blow on the puffball, and the soft, white little stars caught in the wind.

Both watched a moment as they drifted away. “Back when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, we called them things wishies. Don’t y’all like that? Now that I’m grown up, I still think it’s a right purdy handle. The almighty, all-lovin’ Father carries me along.”

“Don’t you have any family?”

“Yes and no. I don’t have any blood kin, but I got me a whole family in Christ.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “How can you live like this— not knowing security or what tomorrow will bring?”

“Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring, and my security— well, if ’n anybody take a mind to do me harm, God’s on my side.”

“God didn’t help Annie.”

Hope heard the anguish in his voice. She waited a moment.
Lord, I made a mistake. I thunk all his pain was from mourning his wife and son
. Looking at him, Hope shook her head. “I gotta disagree with you, Mr. Stauffer. God sent you to carry Annie away to safety. You brung her back here. From the mornin’ when Hattie pulled me to your barnyard ’til now, I’ve seen how you are with her. God gave Annie a guardian angel, but He gave her an earthly warrior, too. You and me—we grieve that her man done her bad. Ain’t a woman alive who deserves to bear the brunt of a man’s temper.

“Part of me wants to track down that feller and serve him a wallop upside his head with the heaviest skillet I can find. I reckon you’ve felt the same—well, not the skillet part.” She glanced down and noted how he’d balled his hands into fists. “But vengeance ain’t ours.”

“Vengeance, no; but justice is. If it wouldn’t jeopardize Annie and the baby, I would do something.” Slowly, he eased his hands open. “I didn’t come to discuss my sister. I needed to know . . .”

Hope gasped as his words died out and his gaze roamed her face. “You was worried ’bout me? That maybe I was runnin’ from a bad husband? Mr. Stauffer, you gotta be the most nicest man I ever met. Put your worries to rest, though. I ain’t ever been hitched.”

He cocked a brow. “Don’t you want to be married?”

“Not yet. God ain’t brung the right man along. King Solomon said there’s a season and purpose to everything. Right now, my calling is to do what I’m a-doin’. If God takes a mind to changing my callin’, I reckon He’ll let me know. For now, I’m like the wheat in the field.”

“That’s hardly reassuring. We’re reaping it.”

She bent to pick up the pails again. “I was talkin’ on the Bible verse about the wheat in the field. It doesn’t toil or spin, but God dresses it up in a cloak of gold.”

“It’s in Matthew. I don’t recall the chapter. ‘Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’ ”

“Oh, ain’t that a grand way to start off the day? Hearin’ the Word of the Lord.”
And wasn’t it nice of you just to say the verse and not make fun of me for remembering the verse wrong?
Hope glanced down at the dandelion stem between them, then looked back at him. “Your sis and all them ladies what come yesterday—they’re all lilies, puttin’ down roots and raisin’ their faces to praise God. And your Emmy-Lou? I think she’s like a bouquet of bachelor buttons—cheerful and fresh. Me? I’m a dandelion what blows along to serve God. Ain’t it a kick to belong to a Creator who got such an imagination?”

“God’s not the only one with an imagination.”

Hope turned to go to the springhouse. She called over her shoulder. “We’re made in His image. We’re supposed to have imaginations!”

Hope stored the food and headed back toward the house, where Emmy-Lou sat waiting on the porch steps. Hope gave her a little hug. “Sugar pie, your auntie is going to go help with the babies at another house today. I don’t know whether you’ll go along or stay here with me.”

A stricken expression streaked across Emmy-Lou’s face, and her little hand clenched Hope’s sleeve. “Auntie Annie isn’t going away like Aunt Miriam, is she?”

“No, no, no.” Hope stopped. “Your daddy told me he wants your auntie to stay here with you forever.”

Emmy-Lou’s hold of her sleeve didn’t slacken. “And you too!”

Hope scanned the ground. Dandelions on a farm were a nuisance—but it was a fool’s hope to think they’d ever be completely banished. She found one for the second time that morning. Kneeling down, she kept Emmy-Lou on her lap. For all the children she’d ever cared for, Hope had always known she’d breeze in and out of their lives—so she’d delighted in the transient joy of their company. In the past, when a little one clung to her as the time came for her to move on, she’d had a peace and managed to coax a giggle out of each one before Hattie pulled her away.

Now, for the first time ever, Hope’s heart ached at the thought of leaving Emmy-Lou and Annie. Mr. Stauffer, too. Even weighed low by his own grief, he possessed a gentleness she admired. Leaving him and his kin would be different. Normally she looked ahead as she left a farm; when she left here, she’d be looking back.

I’m bein’ silly and stupid
.

With resolve she was far from feeling, she plucked the dandelion. “This here’s a dandelion. Ain’t it a purdy sight?”

Turning halfway to face her, Emmy-Lou corrected, “It’s a wishie.”

“Yep. That’s what I call it most of the time, too. See all these here pieces?”

Emmy-Lou’s face puckered. “No.”

“Look closer. See all them teensy, bitty little pieces stickin’ out? Sorta like umbrellas all around to make the ball. You and me—we’re like them umbrellas, comin’ together for a while, then we’ll drift apart.” Hope’s voice caught, and she took a second before whispering in Emmy-Lou’s ear, “Now, you and me’re gonna blow and watch what happens.”

They blew, and the seeds dispersed.

Emmy-Lou dipped her head and patted the front of her nightdress. “Where did it go?”

“Here’s a little piece.” Hope pinched it between her fingers and tickled the back of Emmy-Lou’s hand. “See, this part stayed here with you. Another part blew away. Someday I’ll drift off, but whenever I see a dandelion, I’ll think of you; and when you spy a dandelion, you can ’member me.”

“Hope!” Mr. Stauffer’s call wasn’t loud at all, but something in his tone made Hope snatch Emmy-Lou close and bolt to her feet.

Fourteen

H
ope came in the kitchen door just as Marcella and Leopold entered the front door. Annie sat at the table as she had the day before. This time, she chopped cucumbers for a salad. Jakob pretended not to see how the knife shook in her trembling hand.

“Good morning!” Marcella singsonged. “Since Annie is going to go help with the babies and toddlers today, Mama sent me to help Hope with breakfast.”

“My gracious! You’re bright and early.” Hope set Emmy-Lou down and turned to Annie. “Aren’t they, Annie?”

“Y-yes, they are.”

Giving Emmy-Lou a gentle nudge, Hope ordered, “Sugar pie, you run on upstairs and get dressed.”

“What can I do to help?” Marcella didn’t bother to take her eyes off of Mr. Volkner.

At least he’s staring back at her. I’ve got to get him out of here
. “Leopold, let’s go hitch up the first team.”

“Sure. After—”

“Who’s Leopold?” Marcella’s brows formed a small
V
.

“I am.”

Blushing to the roots of her hair, the girl shook her head. “Hope called you Peter yesterday.”

“It was all a mistake.” Hope shoved an apron into Marcella’s hands. “The real mistake,” Hope continued, “would be for us not to have enough coffee for all the fellers. I reckon we’ll have the rest of the men here faster than a whole army of ants can swarm a picnic.”

Briskly rubbing his hands, Jakob moved away from Annie. “Since we’re going outside, what do you want Volkner and me to carry?”

“Whaddya say, Annie?” Hope looked at her. “The crate with the mugs and two of the coffeepots?”

“Ja. And as soon as Marcella drains off the water, she can take out the hard-boiled eggs.”

Antsy, Jakob didn’t breathe freely until he had Volkner out of the house—only Volkner had no more than set the coffeepots on the table than he turned back toward the house.

“Have some coffee.” Jakob shoved a mug into his hands.

Volkner set it down. “We have a minute. I’ll help . . . the ladies carry out the rest.”

Gritting his teeth, Jakob knew if he objected, it would be odd. If matters seemed out of the ordinary in any way, Volkner might well start looking for what was wrong. He groused, “Okay. One more trip. Then we’ll hitch up that team.”

They had barely stepped into the kitchen when Hope shook a big ladle at them. “Marcella, give your beau them eggs to carry out. And you”—she pointed the ladle at Jakob—“you can tote two of them coffee cakes out there. But I don’t cotton to havin’ to bump into big men and trip over their boots whilst I cook. If ’n either of you sets foot in this here kitchen again today, I’m gonna splavocate.”

Volkner echoed in a confused tone, “Splavo—”

“Pitch a fit.” Jakob shoved him toward the door and forced a chuckle. “Believe me, you don’t want to set her off.”

As they descended the back porch steps, Hope’s lilting, laughter-tinged voice followed them. “Them plowboys smartened up, didn’t they?”

Volkner chuckled and called back, “No use riling the cook.”

It wasn’t long before all the men were in the field again. Midmorning, Hope drove out to them with peaches and water. She managed to give Jakob a sly wink and murmur, “Annie’s over at your neighbors’.”

Relief flooded Jakob. He wouldn’t have to worry through the remainder of the day about Volkner’s discovering Annie’s secret.

At lunch, more food than he’d ever seen made the tables groan. Men commented on it. Hope happened to overhear Mr. Toomel’s comment as she set a platter of ham on a table. “Well, we was plannin’ on havin’ to cook for a full two days—maybe even half of the third. With that extra reaper and team goin’, you men’re way ahead of schedule.”

“Ja, we are,” Jakob agreed with a great sense of relief.

Hope bobbed her head. “So me and the gals, we pulled out all the slops.”

“Slops?” Patterson said in disbelief.

“Stops,” someone else said.

Hope held up both hands. “I’ll stop. I didn’t mean for all y’all to think I was callin’ you hogs. ’Tis just a sayin’.”

Jakob didn’t want anyone to humiliate her just because she’d slaughtered yet another cliché. In a slightly too-loud voice he said, “Truth is the truth. We’re eating like swine. I, for one, won’t apologize, either. You and the rest of the women—you’ve put on a fine spread.”

Men grunted agreement as they ate their fill.

“Many hands make the work right.” Hope straightened out her apron. “Holds true in the kitchen and in the fields.”

She’d done it again. Mangled the old axiom, yet in such a way that it made sense. Jakob watched as Patterson’s brow furrowed and he silently mouthed the saying as if to figure out where things took a detour. The whole situation struck Jakob as amusing. Then again, with the harvest brought in, he’d already been in a good mood. He scanned everyone and said loudly, “Our neighbors have been generous with their help. I’m grateful for all your help. Together, we were faster than ever before.”