The Measure of a Heart (16 page)

“Looks like they almost got it done,” she said to Anna.

“Yes,” Anna agreed, “but it is slow work. My husband has to work alone now. All the others had to get to their haying.”

“You’re working too hard—both of you,” the woman surprised Anna by declaring.

“Well,” said Anna, “it shouldn’t be for much longer now.”

It seemed to Anna that it had been years and years since she had seen her family. She knew Austin would love to take her home, but there was no reasonable conveyance and no money for train fare.

Anna did not even mention the fact that she felt so homesick that at times she feared she might be ill. Instead, she prayed daily that God would help her through another day. But, oh, how she missed them. Especially her mother. If only she could see her. Could have a chat. Could see for herself that her mother was managing without her help. Anna dared not let herself dream of the possibility.

But Austin must have known the beat of Anna’s heart. He must have sensed her loneliness, her desire for a visit with the woman who knew her better than anyone else in the world.

“What would you think of taking a little trip?” he asked her one morning at breakfast.

Anna raised her head from her bowl of oatmeal.

“I thought you might like to go home for a few days,” Austin continued.

Anna tried to keep the excitement from her eyes. It sounded too good to be true.

“How?” she asked simply.

“By train.”

“Oh, Austin. We couldn’t afford the tickets. Could we?”

Anna felt both tremendous excitement and nagging doubt.

“No. Not we. But I think we could manage one.”

Anna was quick to cut in. “One? But I couldn’t—couldn’t just—just go alone. I mean—I couldn’t leave you here to—”

Austin reached for her hand, a smile erasing the tension that Anna often saw in his face.

“You think I’ve forgotten how to batch?” he teased.

“Oh, but I—”

“Why not? You need the trip. Your folks must miss you dreadfully. And I’m sure you miss them. I was hoping to work it out so that we both could go, but that doesn’t seem . . .” Austin let the words trail away as he reached his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair and then massage the back of his neck.

“I have managed to squirrel away a bit,” he confessed. “I’m sure that it will cover your ticket with no problem.”

“But you—”

“I’ll be fine,” assured Austin, leaning forward to cup her chin in his hand and look directly into her eyes. “I will miss you terribly but I’ll manage . . . for a few days.”

Then he added in a lighter note, “I’ll grant you five days, no more.”

Anna wanted so much to see her family. But at the expense of being away from Austin? She wondered if the price was too high.

But the plans were laid, the ticket purchased, and Anna was soon on her way.

She enjoyed the trip in spite of herself. It was so good to see her mama again. So wonderful to have a warm hug from her father. So exciting to see how all of her brothers had grown. But especially good to sit at the kitchen table, sipping from one of her mother’s cherished teacups just as though she were company, and have a heart-to-heart chat, a reminder that she was a beloved daughter.

When the time was up, Anna returned to the small town and the little parsonage, ready to go on with her chosen life.

Chapter Thirteen

Trouble

The din from the nearby playground was almost deafening at times. Anna sometimes wondered why they had to make so much noise just playing a game of ball. But she always reminded herself that she was glad they had a place to play.

So far none of the boys had joined them at the Sunday service, as she and Austin had hoped. It was true that they were no longer in as much trouble, though they still played occasional pranks on unsuspecting townspeople. And Anna even caught them mistreating a poor animal from time to time. But for the most part, the majority of their activities took place on the playing field. They had already worn out a number of balls and bats.

They weren’t exactly pals with Austin or Anna, but they were no longer hostile either. So perhaps a little headway had been made. But it seemed that it was such a small amount of progress.

Anna often contemplated further ways that they could be reached. Especially the two from the family on the edge of town. She feared that unless a change was made in their lives, they would end up in serious trouble of some nature.

One day as Anna turned to lift pans of fresh-baked bread from her oven, there was a terrible crash from the back of the house. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, stopping mid-stride at the unmistakable sound of splintering window glass.

She placed the bread on the waiting board and went to the bedroom to view the damage. Glass was all over the bed and the floor. Very little was left in the window.

Anna felt like crying. There was no money to repair a broken window. There was barely enough to buy the necessary groceries each week. If it weren’t for her garden, she didn’t know if she could have made the pennies stretch.

There was no use fussing. Tears wouldn’t repair the shattered glass. Anna looked out at the playground. Not a soul was in sight.

I guess they’ve all run and hidden, thought Anna. I suppose they fear our wrath.

Anna picked the ball off the bedroom floor and went in search of the boys.

By the time she reached the vacant lot, heads were appearing from behind small bushes. When they saw her coming, they quickly disappeared again.

“Boys,” she called. “Tommy? I found your ball. I thought you might need it to finish your game.”

Anna stood with the ball in hand, peering at the hiding places.

At length a head peeked out from a shrub, then another, and soon sheepish faces were appearing.

“Your ball,” said Anna, holding out the small white sphere. “I figured you wouldn’t be able to finish your game without it.”

Tommy Fallis was the first to make full appearance. He moved slowly toward her.

“Accidents happen,” said Anna, remembering when her brother Will had broken a window at home.

Tommy accepted the proffered ball. He still seemed unable to believe that she wasn’t going to lash out at them for the mishap.

But Anna gave him a smile, and then turned to smile at the heads poking over the bushes. “Have fun,” she called out to them, then turned and walked back to her house.

Anna went to work cleaning up the mess. She cut her finger on a sliver of glass in the process and had to stop to put on a makeshift bandage. Then she set to work again.

The afternoon sun was warm overhead and the flies buzzed lazily in the shimmering heat. In no time they decided that they’d rather be in than out, and Anna saw them making entrance through the broken window.

Anna did not care for flies in her house. She knew she had to do something quickly, so she got one of her tea towels and tacked it into the window frame. It wouldn’t do anything at all about the weather, but at least it should keep the flies from her kitchen.

It seemed to Anna that it rained every day for two weeks during August. But that was an exaggeration. Over and over she and Austin expressed to each other their thankfulness that the new church building was waterproof.

Anna had tried to make her bedroom just as watertight by tacking cardboard over the broken window. Each time the rain soon soaked through, the paper became soggy and the wall began to drip.

Austin took over then, borrowing pieces of board from the church project. Even that did not keep out the water. It seeped through every seam, running down the already stained wall and making puddles on the floor. Anna found herself wiping it up several times a day when it rained.

When there was a break in the clouds, Anna felt she must do something different.

Maybe if I make a heavy paste and patch the seams, she thought. If it has a chance to dry, it might hold out the water.

Anna worked quickly with her flour and water mixture. In the west she could see clouds beginning to form again. She hurried outside and began to smear it heavily wherever there was a join of boards.

The nearby playground had not been used for a number of days. It was too soggy, with big puddles where the bases should be. Anna noticed the quiet as she worked with her paste.

I rather miss the noise, she admitted to herself. At least it was a happy sound. I would rather have it than the drip, drip of rain.

“There,” she said aloud, stepping back to observe her handiwork. “Maybe that will keep out the water.”

Then Anna shifted her eyes to the skies. “If it just has time to dry properly.”

Anna picked up her smeary paste pot and returned to her kitchen.

The paste managed to dry before the next rain. For the first few hours Anna thought her idea had worked, but the steady rain gradually washed away her paste, and Anna was back to wiping floors again.

The rain finally did cease to fall and things began to dry out. Anna asked Austin to remove the boards from the window so she could clean up the casement. But they were kept handy in case they had to hastily be tacked in position again.

What will we ever do when winter comes? Anna wondered.

They had been making an effort to save enough to buy new window glass, but there were only a few pennies in the cup. It had once reached eighty-six cents and then Mr. Perkins, an elderly bachelor across the street, had taken ill. Anna had borrowed from her little savings to buy enough ingredients for a nourishing soup.

And now they were down to pennies again.

There was a knock on the door and Anna crossed to answer, tying her apron around her small frame as she did.

A cluster of boys stood on her step. Anna recognized them as the “gang.”

“We brung the money for the window,” said the biggest one of the lot, extending a grimy hand filled with coins.

Anna’s eyes widened. “Where ever did you get all that money?” she gasped, doubt in her eyes.

“We worked fer it,” one of the boys replied.

“We saw you tryin’ to fix the hole,” volunteered Tommy Fallis.

“We figured the rain must still be comin’ in.”

Anna nodded. She was beginning to regain her composure. She even managed a smile.

“Come in,” she invited, stepping aside.