by Janette Oke
Marty paused a moment before answering. “A doctor.”
“A doctor?” Missie’s tone was both surprised and admiring.
“He’s had his heart set on it for a number of years now. He’s talked to Doc Watkins ’bout it, too. Doc is pleased as a pappy. He doesn’t have any children of his own, an’ he’s takin’ great pleasure in nursin’ Luke’s ambitions.”
“That would be nice to have a doctor in the family.”
“Luke says he wants to help people. He’s always wanted to help people, an’ with so many towns not havin’ a doctor—”
“What I wouldn’t give to have a doctor here,” Missie broke in, her tone wistful. “Young boy of our neighbor broke his arm last year. There was no one to set it properly. He’ll always have a twisted, almost useless arm, just because . . .” Missie’s words trailed off. “I keep thinking, what if it had been Nathan?”
Marty looked at her daughter and understood. She knew a mother’s heart and the panic when a doctor is nowhere around when one is sorely needed. She, too, breathed a prayer that somehow this frontier settlement might soon have a doctor, but she also added silently, Not Lukey. Please, not Luke.
Missie interrupted her thoughts and her unspoken prayers. “How are Nandry’s and Clae’s families?”
Marty was happy to report on the two Larson girls who had joined the Davis family when Missie was just a youngster. Marty spoke lovingly of the grandchildren who brought such joy and delightful commotion to family gatherings. “Nathan and Josiah would have sech fun with all their cousins,” she noted.
“Tell me about the neighbors,” Missie said. “Do we still have the same people living round about?”
“Pretty much. The Coffins moved on back to the area where they came from. Mrs. Coffin never really did take to our community. Some said she jest couldn’t stand bein’ away from her twin sister. After they lost their little girl—remember the sickly little one?—well, after they lost her, Mrs. Coffin insisted they go on back to their home. Some new people on their land now. Called the Kentworths. Not friendly folk at all. All the neighbors have tried to git acquainted an’ have been told not to bother. People say thet he’s a lawbreaker an’ jest doesn’t want folks snoopin’ round. Thet’s what he calls it when anyone comes visitin’—snoopin’ round. She’s ’most as bitter and disagreeable as he is, so fer the time we jest have to sit tight an’ pray fer ’em and watch fer a chance to show our carin’. Must be awful to live with such inner bitterness.”
Missie nodded her head thoughtfully in agreement.
Marty went on, “Most of the other neighbors are the same as before, I guess. The Grahams are as dear friends as ever. Sally Anne has three girls, ’most growed up now.
“Tommie’s Fran jest had a baby boy. He’s six years younger than Tom, Junior, the boy who had been the baby fer a good while. Tom is thrilled with the new little fella.”
“And the Marshalls? How are they doing?”
“It’s sad,” Marty answered, “sad to see the Marshalls an’ their son, but it’s beautiful, too. There is so much love there. Rett is a very loving child. He’s a young man really, but he is still a child. Wanda and Cam really love ’im. He is so good with animals thet it’s ’most uncanny. Wild or tame—they all seem to understand and trust Rett.”
“And Wanda’s happy?”
“Happy? Yah, she’s happy. She needs to rely on her God daily, though. She has her hard times, but I’m sure she wouldn’t be tradin’ her boy fer all the boys in town.”
Missie shook her head as she thought of the grief Wanda had carried. “She has suffered so much,” she said softly.
“Yah,” acknowledged Marty, “she has suffered—suffered and growed. Sometimes it seems to take the one to bring the other.”
“When one does suffer, it is good to see that it hasn’t been wasted—that the sufferer allows God to make it a blessing rather than a bitterness,” Missie observed.
Marty nodded and then went on. “Wanda and Ma Graham both sent their love. They sent some small gifts to ya, too. We have some packages from them in the trunk. Pa and I decided the things we brought with us would jest wait until tomorra. No sense rushin’ into everythin’ tonight.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned gifts, I’m not sure I can wait till morning,” Missie laughed. “Kind of like teasing a body—”
“They’ll keep,” Marty assured her, thinking Missie was still curious and excited about things just like old times at home. “We didn’t want to come rushin’ in here handin’ out goodies right an’ left. You might have understood, but Nathan and Josiah might be thinkin’ thet’s all grandparents are fer.”
Missie laughed. “I’m thinking my sons have you both sorted out already. They seem to know right off that you’re here just to spoil them.”
“We’ll have to be careful, but it sure’d be easy to spoil a bit, all right. Clae’s girl, Esther Sue, and Nandry’s four shore think thet we are there jest to humor them. ’Course they like attention from their uncles, as well. Arnie does most of the fussin’. Arnie really loves young’uns. The others all love the little ones, too, but it is Arnie who never seems to tire of ’em, though he pretends he does.”
“And Joe still hasn’t gone off to seminary? Has he changed his mind?”
“Oh no. He’s as set on it as ever. I’m hopin’ he’ll be able to go next year.”
“Oh, it’s so good to catch up a bit! Makes me feel closer to them somehow. I’ve missed them all so much.”
Marty’s eyes filled with tears. “An’ we’ve missed you. Missie, you’ll never know how many—” She shook her head and stopped short. “No, I won’t say it. I’m here now with you. I see ya have a lovely home, two beautiful boys, thet you’re happy. I’ve told the Lord so many times thet if He’d jest give me this special treat, I’d thank Him with great thankfulness. Now I’m here an’ I’m gonna keep my promise. I am thankful, Missie—so very thankful.” Tears finally spilled down Marty’s face, and Missie went to kneel before her and put her arms around her.
“Oh, Mama,” she said, tears shining in her own eyes, “I’ve longed for you so often. I promised the Lord that I’d be content with seeing you, too. And here I’ve already been upset because you can’t stay longer. I’m ashamed of myself. We’ll just make every minute we have together count. We’ll fill our time with so much happiness that we’ll have barrels of memories to keep us when the time comes that we need to part again.”
Marty smoothed Missie’s hair. “Thet sounds like a grand idea,” she said. “I’ve tucked away a few of these precious memories already.”
Missie stood up. “Well,” she said, “let’s just get on with another one. Willie has developed a real liking for popcorn before bed, so let’s go pop some. He says there just isn’t anything better than to have a close family chat over popcorn. It’s warm, and homey, and filling.” Missie laughed and led the way to the big kitchen. “I always feel like a little girl sneaking in where her mama doesn’t want her when I do this. Wong is so fussy. But I always clean up very carefully.” Mother and daughter laughed together.
The popcorn was soon ready, and Clark and Willie were called to join them in the living room. The visiting continued, as Willie and Missie asked all about the neighbors, the school, the church. Fighting emotion, Willie wanted to know how his pa, Zeke LaHaye, really was doing. The occasional letter somehow didn’t seem to tell the whole story.
“I think a trip on out here would do him a world of good,” Clark commented. “He needs to get a fresh outlook on things. Oh, he still loves his farm, but yer brother has ’most taken over now. Zeke loves his grandkids, too, but he still misses yer ma somethin’ awful. He sent a little parcel along with us.”
“All of this talk of parcels and presents from back home—and they plan to make us wait until morning!” Missie obviously could hold back her frustration no longer. “How can a body sleep tonight not knowing what’s in the trunk?”
After some laughter and teasing, it was decided that the trunk a
nd its contents would be brought in and distributed before retiring.
After the trunk was placed in the room and the straps removed, Missie dove in with a will, laying to one side those things intended for the children. She squealed and cried by turn, enjoying every item that had come with love from those “back home.”
“We’ll have Nandry’s raspberry preserves for breakfast,” she declared, holding up a sparkling jar.
The hour was late when they finally cleared up the clutter and said good-night with hugs all around.
Marty went to bed with an overflowing heart. Her prayers truly had been answered—and now she finally felt she could sleep for a solid week.
The next day even Marty was coaxed up on horseback in order to be given a tour of the ranch. She enjoyed the tiny flowers that nobly bloomed beside the trail, she thrilled to the sight of Willie’s herds of cattle feeding on the hillsides, and she loved the placid mountains lined up against the sky in the distance. But she did not enjoy the wind sweeping across the prairie, pulling at her hair and skirt, nor the miles and miles of seeming emptiness. Marty watched Missie carefully as they rode together, and she could see in Missie’s face that all she saw now was Willie’s land as she had grown to love it.
Sunday arrived and with it some visitors to the LaHaye spread. At two o’clock in the afternoon, the opening hymn of their regular Sunday service was led by Henry Klein. Clark and Marty were happy to renew their acquaintance with the wagon driver who had come west with the LaHayes. Henry had changed much in those few short years. No longer a bashful, hesitant boy, he was now a sincere and confident man, presenting proudly an attractive wife and a two-year-old son, Caldwell.
As they sang the hymn, Marty glanced around her. Some of the LaHaye cowhands were there. She couldn’t remember all the names, though she had been introduced. There was Cookie—she had no problem remembering Cookie—and Rusty and Lane. The other two names she could not recall. A neighborhood family had joined them for the service. Marty saw the small boy with the twisted arm, and her heart went out to him. These were the Newtons, a young couple with four young sons.
After the singing, Willie led the service and Clark was asked, as honored guest, to give the Bible lesson. The people were attentive, and Marty even heard an occasional quiet amen.
Juan and Maria and their baby girl and young son were not in attendance this time. Missie had told Marty about her friend and kept an eye on the road that twisted down the hill, no doubt hoping they would arrive, but when the service was over they still hadn’t come. Missie was worried, she told her mother. It was the second Sunday in a row the de la Rosas had not showed up. They were not away from home, since Scottie had reported seeing them Friday. No one was ill, for they had all been in town together. Missie could not think of a reason for their absence, she explained, her voice low. She must call on them and see if there was some problem.
After the service ended, Missie served coffee and some of Wong’s delicious doughnuts. They sat and visited, sharing their daily experiences, some joys and some difficulties. Marty and Clark were glad for the opportunity to get to know some of Missie and Willie’s neighbors. They all seemed to feel that the service was a special time in their week.
The cowboys were the first to take their reluctant leave. It was time for their shift, and Scottie would be watching for them.
Next the Newtons also left. Mr. Newton as yet did not employ many hands on his spread and needed to get back in the saddle himself. He stated they hadn’t been bothered much with rustlers lately, but one could never tell when they might decide to strike. The small, defenseless ranches were easy picking. The Newtons promised to be back again the next Sunday.
The Kleins stayed for supper. Marty could tell Wong was happy for the chance to show off his culinary skills. Nathan and Josiah, glad for a playmate, took Caldwell out to the patio to play with a delighted Max, who ran around in circles with excited yelps to remind them that for the last few days he had been getting very little attention.
Marty chatted with Melinda Klein while Missie fussed about the table, setting it with the good dishes and making sure everything looked its best. Marty soon came to feel very close to Melinda. Though some distance in age between them, they had shared similar experiences in their introduction to the West, both having lost a young husband in tragic accidents. Marty was glad that Melinda had Henry to help her over the hurt and confusion of losing the one she loved while so far away from friends and family. And I’m glad I had Clark, she thought with a quick glance at him across the room.
Henry, too, was anxious for news from the home area. Though Clark and Marty knew few of the people Henry would have claimed as neighbors, they were able to tell him some of the general news from the district.
Soon after the evening meal, the Kleins left for home and the boys were tucked in for the night. After their double portion of bedtime stories, they settled down, not to be heard from again till morning. Missie declared that the excitement of Sundays always tired them out.
Marty, too, felt tired, even though she was gradually catching up on the missed sleep. Willie informed her that it was the change in the altitude. Marty was willing to accept any excuse for her laziness. All she knew was that she was longing for her bed.
She hid a yawn and tried to get back into the conversation. Clark and Willie were making plans for the morning. It sounded as though wherever they were going, it would be a long ride. Willie was asking Missie if she wished to go. Marty was already stiff from her short ride of the day before. She wasn’t sure she could handle another horseback ride, but Missie was answering, “I thought Mama and I should go on over to see Maria. I can’t understand why they have missed two Sundays. If it’s okay with Mama, we’ll go and see what we can find out. I’m anxious for Mama and Maria to meet. You’ll never believe Maria,” Missie said, turning to Marty. “She speaks very good English now. Me—I hardly got a decent start on Spanish.”
So it will be the saddle again tomorrow. Marty winced at the thought. Not only would she ride tomorrow, but from what she had understood, she would ride a long way. The de la Rosas were not near neighbors.
Marty nodded her head in agreement, hoping Missie did not read any hesitation.
Missie continued, “We should leave by nine. I think we’d better take the team so Mama won’t need to ride so soon again, not being used to it. Besides, it’s a fair ways and we’ll need to take the boys. Could you have Scottie see that the team is ready for us, please?”
Willie nodded and Marty breathed in her relief. Everyone, now having settled on the plans for the morrow, decided that sleep would be needed to carry them through. They bade each other good-night and headed for their beds.
Eight
Marty Meets Maria
The sun rose over the distant hills the next morning and right from the sunrise seemed to pour forth intense heat.
After breakfast and the morning chores, Willie brought the team around, and Missie loaded her sons and canteens with plenty of water for the day. Marty placed her bonnet firmly on her head as protection from the sun and wished she had a cooler gown.
“My, it’s warm!” she exclaimed, but Missie did not seem bothered by the heat.
“A breeze should come up and cool things off some,” she responded, then clucked to the team and they were off.
They had not gone far before Marty could feel the breeze, though she might have preferred to call it a gale. It was not anything like the cooling breezes that swept over the valley at home. In fact, Marty thought the wind felt even hotter than the sun. It whipped at her cheeks, drying and scorching them. It tore at her skirts and made the brim of her bonnet flap. Marty did not care for wind, and she wished it would blow elsewhere.
“I guess I’ve gotten used to the wind,” Missie remarked as Marty tried to hold her bonnet down with one hand and her skirts with the other.
Nathan and Josiah rode comfortably on the first part of the journey, then began the age-old question, “How much lon
ger?” Missie dealt with it good-naturedly until Nathan began to tease his younger brother, for lack of something else to do, and then she stopped the horses and lifted the youngsters down to stretch their legs. She gave them each a drink from a canteen and a couple of cookies and instructed them to play in the shade of the wagon while Mama and Grandma took a short walk. There was no shade for walking, so there was no temptation to linger. In fact, Marty was glad to be back in the wagon and moving again.
When they came to the river, Marty glanced up and down its length for a bridge. There was none. Missie confidently headed the horses into the stream, explaining as she did so that it used to flow deeper at that point until the men of the area widened the riverbed and allowed the stream to spread out. “Now,” said Missie, “it’s safe to cross here almost any time of year.”
Marty, most relieved to hear it was safe, still gripped the wagon seat with white knuckles and snatched anxious glances over her shoulder at her grandsons. Crossing the river was the most exciting part of the journey for the boys. Marty heard their squeals of delight as the swirling water foamed about the wagon wheels. Once across, though, they began to coax their mother to hurry the team and complained they were too crowded, too hot, and too hungry.
Missie eventually handed the reins to Marty and took Josiah on her lap. Without Josiah to torment, Nathan, too, settled down for the remainder of the trip.
It was almost noon before the de la Rosas’ buildings came into view. Marty saw a large, low ranch house, built of the same stone as Missie’s home, though not quite as spacious. It nestled among brown hills, and there was not even a spring to add some green to the area. Missie informed Marty that the de la Rosas were fortunate in having all the water they needed from the deep well they had dug. The well now was showing its worth as a windmill turned busily in the ever-present wind, causing a pump to send a constant stream of water from its spout into a large animal trough.
“Well, it’s nice to know thet the wind is good fer somethin’,” murmured Marty under her breath as Missie guided the team into the yard and directed them to the hitching rail.
