Love comes softly (13 page)
Authors: Janette Oke
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - General, #General & Literary Fiction, #Modern fiction, #Large Print
102
ya mind seem' it a sittin' there?"
He answered her in honesty, knowing that she understood. "S'pose I do some. But it's not as hard now as it was at first sight of it, an' twould be only foolhardy not to put it where it can be of use. I'll git used to it," and so saying he went to do as he had suggested.
"Yes," Marty thought to herself. She was discovering that this man would do the right thing even if it did hurt him.
She felt a little selfish about her anticipation of being able to do her sewing in the warm room. If things had to be as they were, she certainly could have done worse. She still ached for her Clem. She wished him back even if it would have meant having as little as they had. Still she would be unfair if she refused to see the goodness in this man whose name she had taken and whose home she shared. That he was a real worker and a good provider was apparent, but she was discovering other things about him, too-- things like thoughtfulness and caring. Certainly she couldn't fault him in his demands on her. She was only to be Missie's mama. He hadn't even complained about her terrible cooking. No, she decided, even though she still didn't like her situation, she certainly could have done worse.
She set her mind on her sewing. She would give Missie a bit more playing time before she tucked her in.
Clark had settled himself with one of his new books. Marty thankfully picked up a pattern that Mrs. McDonald had included. She had never sewed for one so small before and would have been hard put to know how to cut the material without the pattern. Her hands fairly shook with excitement. She'd do the cutting on the kitchen table where she had more room.
103
Chapter 17
Mysterious Absence
The days of November slipped slowly by. The storms came and went. Snow lay heavy on the fields and big drifts rose around sheltered spots where the wind had shifted the snow. Some days the wind ceased blowing and the sun shone, but always the temperature stayed below freezing. Activity on the small homestead did not cease because of the weather. There was still much to do. On the fairer days Clark spent his time with Dan and Charlie up in the wooded back country gathering logs for their wood supply for the coming year.
On the more miserable days there was more time spent in choring to try to ease the animals through the storms with as little discomfort as possible.
Marty, too, kept busy. Caring for Missie, keeping the house, baking bread, washing, mending, ironing-- the list seemed endless to her, yet she was thankful to have each of the long days filled with things that needed to be done.
In the evenings she went gladly to her sewing, making each stitch on the tiny garments with tender care. She had laid aside the quilt she had begun. It could wait. She wanted to busy herself with preparations for the baby.
She had noticed that Clark had referred to it as "he" also. It could surprise them both and be a girl, she knew, but stubbornly refused to think of it other than as a male child.
She'd already decided on his name-- Claridge Luke. Claridge
104
after his pa, and Luke after hers. How proud her pa would be to know that he had a grandson bearing his name. But that would have to wait for the first wagon train going east, when she'd pack up her son and the young Missie and be heading back home.
It was beginning to bother her about taking Missie. She saw the great love that Clark had for his little girl, and she wondered when the time came if he'd really be able to let her go. Marty was getting awfully attached to Missie herself. Referring to herself as Mama came easy now. Indeed, sneaking up quite unawares was the feeling that she was just that. Each day she enjoyed the young child's company more, laughing at her silly antics, marvelling at her new words, and even sharing some of the same with Clark when he came home at nights.
If she had stopped to think about it, she would have realized that Missie was becoming very much a part of her life. She could hardly wait for the new year, the time she had decided that she would tell her secret to the little girl. She was sure that the child would share her anticipation of the new baby. But Marty went on day by day, not making any attempt to stop to think or to analyze her gradually changing feelings. It was enough just to tick the slow days off, discarding them casually at day's end, like something that had served its purpose merely by coming and going; for indeed, Marty was still marking time.
As November drew to a close, Marty suddenly realized that it seemed Clark had made an unusual number of trips into town, especially for that time of the year. It wasn't as though they had need of supplies. Indeed, he sometimes returned with very few purchases, and sometimes he even used the saddle horse rather than the team. Marty hadn't even thought to wonder about it at first, but the morning's breakfast conversation had her puzzled. Clark had announced casually enough that he would be gone for three or four days. There appeared to be a bit of a break in the weather, so he had decided that now was the time to make his planned trip to a much larger center than their small town. Young Tom Graham would be coming in the evening and staying the night
105
to look after the evening and morning chores. If the weather should turn sour, she could ask him to stay on through the day as well. If she was in need of anything, she could send word with Tom to the Grahams.
His words had puzzled Marty. He had made an unusual number of trips, but really it was none of her business. Probably he was looking for new machinery to till the land, or better seed, or a place to sell his hogs. Anyway it was his business, so why should she worry herself about it. Young Tom would be over. There was nothing to fret about.
Still in all, as Clark gave Missie a good-bye hug and admonished her to be a good, big girl for her mama, Marty couldn't help but feel a bit of uneasiness.
"I'll be back Saturday night in time fer chores," he promised and went out for Dan and Charlie. As Marty watched him leave the yard, she noticed that the crate was in the wagon box and a couple of hogs were having a ride to town. What had he said?
"If we be a needin' more cash, we can al'ays sell a hog."
This too puzzled Marty. Truly he must be shopping for another plow or more seed, she decided. Still, on the other hand, she had cost him a powerful lot of extra money, what with the winter clothing for herself, the wool for knitting and the pieces for quilting, and then to top it off, the things for the baby. Yes, she had cost him an awful lot of money.
Marty fretted over it a bit, something that she usually kept herself from doing. Finally she pushed it aside with real effort.
"No use a takin' on so. Guess I'm jest a mite off my feed or somethin' to be a stewin"bout it so. Wisht I could have me a good visit with Ma. Thet'd set things to right. By the time Clark gits back it'll be December already."
Time was moving on, no matter how slow it seemed at times, and hadn't Ma said that it was time that healed? She was glad to see the days go by. She hoped that they would go quickly while Clark was away.
When Clark returned on Saturday, Marty was more relieved than she would admit to see the team coming. She didn't know why she should be. Young Tom had done a fine
106
job of the chores she was sure, and she hadn't at all minded his company in the evenings. After supper he played with Missie or read her book to her over and over. He was proud of the fact that he had learned his letters and knew how to read, as did each one of Ma's children, and he loved to show off to Missie, and, Marty smiled, to her as well, she wagered. By now Missie could repeat many of the lines of her book herself as she had heard them so often, but that had no effect at all on her love to hear it again.
They had gotten along just fine while Clark was away, so that had no bearing on her sense of relief to see him home. Perhaps deep down within her was the memory of a casual good-bye to Clem and a later discovery that it had been the last.
Missie was overjoyed at the sight of her daddy and began a dance as soon as she spotted him from her chair at the window.
Marty noticed that the crate was now empty, but she could see no evidence of a purchase made from the proceeds. Only a few small packages sat on the seat beside Clark. Dan and Charlie looked weary, she thought, as she watched them plod toward the barn. Their steps hastened some, as they drew near, in their eagerness to reach warm stalls and a full manger.
Clark looked tired, too, she decided, as she watched him leap down and begin to unhitch the team. He wasn't moving with the same lightness that usually accompanied his step.
"Well, he's here now an' he'll be a wantin' some hot coffee."
This fact presented no problem, for Marty had the coffee boiled and on hand. Now she could stop her pacing to the window, looking down the road for the team, though she had been quite unaware that she had been doing so.
Life, she hoped, would continue on now in its usual way. It wasn't what she had wanted from life, but at least it had taken on a pattern now familiar to her, and there was a certain amount of comfort even in the familiar.
Clark came in with his few articles of groceries and she welcomed him with a cup of coffee.
107
Chapter 18
Christmas Preparations
"Our God," Clark prayed in his morning prayer, "as we be nearin' the season of yer Son's birth, make our hearts thankful thet He came, an' help us to be a lovin' our neighbor with a love like He showed us."
"He's talkin"bout Christmas," Marty thought with a sudden awareness of the season. "Oh, my, it be only two weeks away an' I haven't even been a thinkin' on it."
Her mind went plunging from thought to thought so that again she missed the rest of the prayer and sat with eyes still closed after the 'Amen' until Missie pulled at her sleeve, wanting her breakfast.
She lifted a flushed face and hurriedly fixed Missie's porridge for her, blowing on it to cool it some before giving it to the child.
"Ya know," she ventured a little later, "I had fergot all 'bout how close Christmas be."
Clark looked up from his eating.
"I know Christmas be a mite hard to be a thinkin' on this year. Iffen it be too hard fer ya, we can most ferget the day, 'cept fer the reading of the Story an' maybe a sock ter young Missie."
Marty thought for a few minutes.
"No," she finally answered. "Thet wouldn't be right. Missie needs her Christmas-- a proper one like, an' I reckon it may
108
do us good, too. We can't stay back there in the past nursin' our sorrow-- not for her sake, nor fer our own. Christmas, seems to me, be a right good time to lay aside hurtin' an' look fer somethin' healin'."
Clark's eyes widened. Seemed that he had never heard a better sermon from any visiting preacher than the one he'd just heard from Marty. When he recovered enough to speak in his normal manner, he responded. "Ya be right of course. So what ya be plannin'?"
"Well-- " Marty turned it over in her mind trying to recall exactly what had happened at her home to prepare for Christmas. Of course there hadn't been the reading of the scripture story, but they could add that; and there had been a good supply of corn likker, which they could do without. Otherwise, there must be several things that she could do the way her mother had. This would be her first Christmas away from home-- the first Christmas for her to make for others, rather than have others make for her. The thought made her feel both edgy and excited.
"Well," she repeated again. "I'll git me to doin' some Christmas bakin'. Maybe Ma has some special recipes she'll share. Then we'll have a tree fer Missie. Christmas Eve we'll put it up after she be tucked in, an' we'll string pop-corn an' make some colored chains, an' have a few candles fer the windows, an' we'll kill a couple of the finest roosters, an' I'll find me somethin' to be a makin' fer Missie-- "
The excitement showing in her eyes and voice was infectious. Clark, too, found himself slowly caught up in the anticipation of the coming Christmas.
"Roosters nuthin'." he said. "I'll go myself an' buy us a turkey from the Vickers. Missus Vickers raises some first-rate 'uns. Maybe there be somethin' we can be a makin' fer Missie together. I'll ride over to Ma's today an' git the recipes, or better still, it looks like a decent day. Ya be wantin' me to hitch ole Dan an' Charlie so ya can be a goin' yerself?"
"Oh, could I?" Marty's voice was almost a plea. "I'd love to see Ma fer a chat iffen yer sure it be all right."
So it was decided that Marty would go to the Grahams, but Clark added another dimension to the plan. If it was okay
109
with her, he'd drive her to Ma's and then he and Missie would go on to the Vickers and get the turkey. That way they'd be sure to have it when the big day arrived. Missie could do with some fresh air, too.
Marty hurried through the dishes as Clark went to get the team. She bundled Missie up snuggly and slipped into her long coat. It was the first time that she had worn it, and she thought, looking at herself with a grin, perhaps the last for a while. Two of the buttons refused to meet their matching buttonholes. She sighed. "Well," she decided, taking her shawl, "guess I'll jest have to cover up the rest a' me with this."
The day spent with Ma was a real treat. They poured over Ma's recipes, Marty choosing so many that she'd never get them all baked and would be forced to choose some from among the many at a later date. She also wrote down careful instructions on how to stuff and roast the turkey, it being her first attempt at such. They shared plans and discussed possibilities for the holiday ahead. Marty felt a stirring of new interest within her at the anticipation of it. For too long she had felt that the young life she carried was the only living part of her. Now for the first time in months she began to feel alive again.
The day went all too quickly. Before she knew it she heard the team approaching. Clark was called in for a cup of coffee before setting off for home, and he came in carrying a rosy- faced Missie, excited by her ride and eager to tell everyone of the 'gobble-gobble' they had in the wagon for `Chrisras'.
Marty could hear the live turkey protesting his leave of the flock. He would be placed in the hen's coop and generously given cracked corn and other fattening things until a few days before Christmas.
Missie romped with young Lou while the grown-ups had their coffee, too excited to even finish her glass of milk.
On the way home Marty voiced a thought that had gradually been taking shape within her. She was a bit hesitant and hardly knew how to express it, lest it be denied her.
"Do ya spose-- I mean, would ya' all mind iffen we had the
Grahams come fer Christmas dinner?"
