by Janette Oke
Marty finished the round of hugs and turned to hug them all again. Wiping away tears of joy, she stood back to marvel at how much the grandchildren had grown, how pretty and grown-up Ellie looked, how Luke didn’t look like a boy anymore, and how tall and manly her two oldest sons appeared. They had changed, her family. In just one short—and long—year, they had changed so much. Josh was shaking Clark’s hand now and telling him how much he had been missed. Marty saw anxious glances at Clark’s pinned-up pants leg, and she knew that this was a difficult and emotional time for her family. Clark put them all at ease as he expertly maneuvered his crutch and picked up some of their belongings.
“’Member how we left this place? Stuff piled up high till I wondered iffen the poor horses would be able to pull the load. Well, we came back with far less than we left with.” He grinned and slapped his short leg. “Even lightened me up a bit fer the return trip,” he quipped.
The boys laughed some, and the tension eased. The menfolk started in on the luggage and soon had it moved to the waiting wagon.
Marty turned again to the girls. “Oh, it’s so good to be home! It’s such a long trip, an’ I have so much to talk ’bout I’m fair burstin’.” Then she spoke to Ellie. “Thought you’d be home stewin’ ’bout the stagecoach bein’ so slow an’ ruinin’ yer supper.”
“We got together an’ decided to just this once be real extravagant,” said Ellie, her lovely face and smile warming Marty’s heart once more. “We knew you’d be tired after yer long ride, and we thought ya might need a little break before climbin’ in the wagon an’ headin’ on home. ’Sides, we’re all anxious fer some talkin’ time, so we decided to meet in town an’ eat together at the hotel.”
Marty was surprised but, after mulling it over quickly in her mind, agreed with their decision. It would be good to just stretch a little and then enjoy a meal with the family. She would simply put off the reunion with her home and its familiar surroundings.
Marty turned to talk with Nandry, but the young woman was standing as though transfixed, watching the men move off toward the waiting wagon. The grown boys appeared to jostle for position beside their father, all talking and laughing at once. It was obvious they shared the joy of having him back. Nandry’s Josh, too, walked with them, carrying their youngest, Jane, along with them. Andrew bustled along with the men, hoisting high Marty’s prized hatbox. But it was on Clark that Nandry’s eyes were fastened, and Marty saw deep pain in her face. Marty wanted to assure Nandry that it was all right, that the stump of leg no longer gave Clark dreadful discomfort, that he was still able to do all the things he used to do . . . well, almost all the things. He had made the adjustment well, and they had even been able to thank God for the life-changing event in their lives, since so many things had happened for God’s glory from the results of the tragedy. But before Marty could even move toward her oldest daughter—this one whom she loved as truly as though hers by birth—Nandry had moved away, the pain in her eyes showing clearly on her troubled face.
It’s a shock, thought Marty, a terrible shock. She needs time to face it an’ time to adjust. I didn’t bear it very well at first, either.
Ellie was speaking. “Mama, how is Pa? I know thet he seems . . . well, he seems his old self. Is he really? Does . . . does it bother ’im?”
“Yer pa is fine . . . just fine.” Marty hoped her voice would carry to Nandry, who stood silently with her back to the group. “’Course it was hard on all of us. It’s hard on you, too . . . I know thet. ’Specially at first. But ain’t nothin’ much yer pa puts his mind to thet he can’t do. He’s a big man, yer pa. A little thing like a missin’ leg won’t slow ’im down much. You’ll—”
But Ellie was weeping. Quiet sobs shook her slight frame as large tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks.
Marty crossed quickly to her and held her close, patting her back and rocking her back and forth until Ellie had cried herself dry.
“It’s okay,” Marty whispered. “I had me a lot of cryin’ time, too. It’s all right.”
Ellie dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Oh, Mama,” she apologized, “I thought I was all through with such like. I promised myself . . . but when I saw ’im . . . when I realized it was really true, I . . .”
Marty held her close. “It’s just fine,” she assured her again. “Why, I couldn’t begin to tell ya the number of times Missie an’ me cried together.”
Ellie blew her nose and Kate did, as well. Marty hadn’t realized Clare’s young wife had also been weeping. She moved to Kate and held her new daughter-in-law for many minutes. Kate clung to her, no doubt sensing the love and strength that were being offered her by this newfound mother-in-law.
Marty turned next to Nandry. Taking the young woman in her arms, Marty could feel a stiffness in her body. No tears flowed. Nandry embraced her in return, but Marty could sense a withholding there. Go ahead. Weep, Marty wished to say. You’ll feel better if you do, and we’ll all understand. But Nandry was drawing away, dry eyed and silent.
The men were returning. Ellie and Kate made another effort to dab at the tears and turned to face the family.
The walk to the hotel dining room was full of loving commotion. Marty’s mind went back to the morning so long ago when they had gathered together to say their good-byes. They had been noisy then, too. In fact, Clark had needed to silence his family in order to get the gathering under control. Just as these thoughts flew through Marty’s mind, Clark turned to the chattering throng and held up his free hand. “Hold it,” he spoke loudly. “How ’bout we git some order outta this chaos.”
Tina, who appeared to have grown many inches, responded as she had a year before. “Oh, Grandpa—”
And Clark finished it for her. “I know . . . I know. How can you organize chatter?” He pulled her pigtail and they both laughed. Tina reached up for the hug she knew would be forthcoming.
Marty laughed, too, a tight little laugh that caught in her throat and brought her pain as well as gladness. See, she wanted to say to her gathered family, nothing has changed—not really—at least nothing that really matters. But perhaps they all got the message without her saying anything, for Marty noticed the changing expressions on the faces before her—the sorrow, then the acceptance, and finally the relief.
Pa was still Pa. This big man whom they knew and loved was still the same man. His accident had not altered his character. He was still in command. Oh, not of incidents, maybe, but he was in command of himself. He had not allowed something like a missing leg to shape who he was, the person he had become. He was, thankfully, still in control. No, that was not right. Clark had never claimed to be in control. That was the secret. The man who stood before them, the man whom they were blessed enough to call “Pa,” the one whom they had loved and respected and learned early to obey, had always assured them that the real secret to life and its true meaning was not to try to take over the controls. The answer to a life of meaning and deep peace was to leave the controls in the hand of the almighty Father. And the fact that He was still totally and wisely in control was a fact not a one of them in the close little circle doubted.
Only Nandry, who stood slightly apart with eyes averted from the empty pants leg, seemed to have any doubts at all. Marty watched the expression on her face and knew Nandry was not allowing herself even to recognize any part of the situation. Marty prayed silently for this daughter who had always kept herself rather closed and alone. Nandry would need to deal with this new reality, but she probably couldn’t manage it just now.
Two
Catching Up
When the group reached the hotel dining room, Marty and Clark were pressed on every side by grandchildren who wished to sit as close to them as they could. Only Jane, who had been just a few months old when Clark and Marty left for the West, did not remember them, and she chose to cling to her father, her big blue eyes watching every move of the two strangers. Marty yearned to hold her but held herself in check, wanting to give the child enough tim
e to get acquainted. There would be many days ahead to hold and cuddle her.
Tina, their oldest granddaughter, excitedly told them about her school and gave them a progress report on her schoolwork. Andrew boasted that he, too, was a schoolkid now and insisted on counting to ten to prove it. Mary moved closer against Marty and shyly whispered that she still had to stay home to help her mommy with Janey. Marty put an arm around her and hugged her tight.
“Well,” broke in Arnie during a slight lull in the conversation, “let’s hear all ’bout the West. Is it really what they claim it to be?”
Marty smiled, and Clark answered Arnie’s question. “I have to admit to still preferrin’ my spot right here, but the West draws one, fer sure. I can understand why Willie is so fired up ’bout his ranch. People out there are right neighborly, an’ the land is wide an’ open. Gives ya a feelin’ of bein’ free like.”
“Still miles an’ miles of country nobody has claimed?” asked Clare.
“Not much. Once the train tracks arrived, the available land was taken up real quick. Those ranches are so much bigger than the farms here thet one man needs far more land. There doesn’t seem to be much acreage left to claim in Willie’s area. ’Course, thet still don’t mean a great abundance of neighbors, but they do have people all round them now. Ya just ride a ways to reach ’em, thet’s all. The town has grown quickly, too. An’ now they have their own little church, an’ they are startin’ school this fall—part-time, anyway, with Melinda teachin’—an’, ’course, they have a doctor now, so things are lookin’ really good.”
Ellie shut her eyes. “Dr. de la Rosa,” she said, trying out the unfamiliar-sounding name to herself. “Guess we owe him a lot, huh?”
Clark nodded solemnly. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess we do. An’ I’m countin’ on ’im again, too. Countin’ on ’im to safely bring into the world another of my grandchildren.”
“Oh yes!” exclaimed Kate. “How is Missie?”
“She’s fine. Just wished we could have been there to hold the wee one a bit ’fore headin’ on home.”
“Well,” said Clare, reaching for his wife’s hand, “maybe we can help out with thet . . . with a wee one, I mean. We thought maybe we’d just . . .”
“Ya mean . . . ?”
Kate blushed. “Oh, Clare, stop—”
But Clare, not to be deterred, went on. “Not yet,” he said to the now-excited group. “We just think it sounds like a real good idea, thet’s all. I can’t wait to have a son of my own.”
Marty sat back in her chair again, feeling a fleeting moment of disappointment. It would be so wonderful to have a grandchild right in her own yard. She wished Clare had actually meant . . .
She checked herself. There was no need to be in a hurry. She smiled at the still-blushing Kate. She was anxious to get to know her daughter-in-law better. “Never mind his teasin’ none,” Marty assured her. “Clare always has been an awful tease. We know him well enough to pay ’im no mind.”
She could see Kate relax, and Marty decided to turn the attention of the group elsewhere.
“An’ what of you, Arnie?” she asked, smiling knowingly at her son who sat across from her, acting as if he had no interest in the previous conversation.
“What of me?” Arnie repeated, as though not understanding Marty’s question. But Marty could see the slight color creep into Arnie’s face, and she knew he understood her well enough.
Ellie giggled. “Go ahead, Arnie. Tell ’em,” she encouraged.
Arnie pretended to ignore the whole group and intently studied the pattern of the tablecloth.
In Arnie’s defense, Luke spoke up slowly. “She’s nice,” he stated. “I don’t blame Arnie none at all.”
“Nor do I,” Ellie added, giggling again.
Marty watched her son squirm and decided now was not the time to discuss the issue at hand.
“I will want to hear all ’bout her,” she said, “just as soon as we have us a chance to talk. Right now I guess we should be decidin’ what we want fer supper.”
With the attention taken from Arnie, Marty turned instead to Luke. “I’m anxious to hear what plans you have, son, an’ how things have been goin’ with Dr. Watkins.”
“Great!” was all Luke said, but he put a lot of meaning in the word. Marty assumed that Luke’s plans for doctoring had not changed.
Clark turned to Nandry. “When did you last hear from Clae?” he asked.
Nandry busied herself with brushing Mary’s already clean front. “About a week ago,” she said without returning Clark’s gaze.
“Everythin’ fine?”
“Seems to be. Joe’s almost finished now.”
“The last we heard was ’bout a week before we left Missie’s,” Marty commented. “I was so glad to hear they have the boy they’ve been wantin’. Nice thet he arrived ’fore they have to make their move, too. Clae wrote about Joe takin’ a church in the East, though. I hate the thought. Wish they were comin’ back here, but I understand how Joe feels ’bout it. It would be a good experience for ’im, and he could git those extra classes at the same time, iffen it all works out fer ’im,” she concluded.
Nandry only nodded.
The white-aproned waitress came for their orders then, and by the time the family group had sorted out what they wanted and the poor, confused-looking girl had left their table, the discussion had turned to other things.
Marty glanced out the window and noticed the sun no longer shone down heartily on the world. It had moved far to the west and before too long would be sinking into bed for the night. She longed to be home before dark so she might see their beloved farm, but she realized now they would not make it in time. Part of the last leg of the trip would be made by moonlight, and the men would do the remaining chores by lantern light. The boys no doubt had done all they could before leaving for town. Marty hoped silently that the meal would not take too long. She forcibly turned her attention back to the conversation, listening to the men talk of the crops, the needed rain, and the outlook for the next harvest. Marty pulled Mary up close against her and smiled across at Tina and Andrew, who sat quietly, one on each side of their grandpa. She let her eyes linger over the faces of all the family who shared the large table and inwardly thanked the Lord for bringing them home safely and for keeping the family in their absence.
Looking at Clark sitting across from her with one hand resting on Andrew’s shoulder, she saw the same man with whom she had left the long year before. Marty saw the same strength, the same leadership, the same twinkle of humor, the same depth of character, and the same love for his family. These were the things that really mattered, not the stub of a missing leg beneath the table. Marty hoped these were the qualities her family saw in the man, too.
Just as Marty had suspected, daylight had been long gone by the time they arrived home. She quietly mourned the fact that she could not look around her beloved farm immediately. Though the night was moonlit and cloudless and the stars twinkled brightly overhead, she knew that to stumble around in the semidarkness would be ridiculous. So from her perch in the farm wagon, she contented herself with simply peering through the gathered night at the shapes of the buildings in the yard. She picked out the barn, the henhouse, the first little log home she and Clark and their growing family had shared, now the home of Clare and Kate. With a sigh, she allowed Clark to help her down and followed him to the house, straining as she looked out toward the garden. She wondered just what Ellie and Kate had planted and in what quantity, but the darkness of the night kept its secrets.
Ellie had already lit a bright lamp, and she watched carefully as her mother looked around at her familiar kitchen. There was Marty’s beloved stove, her neatly organized cupboards, the large family table that had graced their home for years. The curtains and the pictures on the walls were just as she remembered them. Even the towel bar with its assortment of dishtowels looked the same, and familiar potholders hung from the pegs near the stove. Only the lone calendar on the wall ha
d been changed, it now being a year later than when Marty had left her home. She sighed and turned to smile her pleasure at Ellie.
There was great relief to find everything just as she had left it. Contentment settled over her like a warm comforter. She put down the things she had been carrying and began her homecoming tour, hurrying from room to room. Yes, Ellie had kept it just as it had been. It looked like home—it felt like home. As Marty’s eyes flitted over the furnishings, her mind was noting things that needed to be done in the near future. The living room could do with some new wallpaper, and the kitchen woodwork should have some fresh paint. Marty sighed contentedly again; her home still needed her. She must get busy right away and care for it—but not tonight. Suddenly she ached for her own bed. How tired she was! Because of the excitement of getting home, she had not realized her extreme weariness. Well, she knew it now. She secretly wondered if she would find the strength to climb the stairs to her own room.
Clark noticed. His eyes sought hers with an unasked question.
“I’m fine,” assured Marty quietly. “Just didn’t realize till right this minute how tired I am, I guess. Think I’ll just go off to bed and leave the rest of the visitin’ fer the morra. Plenty of time to catch up then.”
Clark nodded, tucked her cases under one arm, and, with his crutch under the other, expertly maneuvered the stairway.
Marty slowly climbed after him, all her excited energy depleted. She stood at the door of her own bedroom—hers and Clark’s. It had been so long since they had slept here. Her eyes lovingly caressed every inch of it. The delicate pattern of the rose wallpaper, the deep, rich look of the polished wood floor, with its thick handmade rugs, the full whiteness of the curtains at the windows, the inviting bed with its quilted coverlet. She loved this room. She wouldn’t trade it for any amount of money, even for the rich hotel room where they had stayed on their trip west.
