The Love Comes Softly Collection

by Janette Oke

  “Does Pa know? Does Pa know?” she implored.

  “Not yet,” said Marty. “He’s over to the Grahams’ helpin’ Lou. He should be home ’most anytime now.”

  “Oh boy!” exclaimed Belinda and turned to Amy Jo. The two of them joined hands and danced around the kitchen. “Melissa’s comin’! Melissa’s comin’,” they chanted.

  Marty watched the two girls, laughing at their foolishness, but truth was, she sort of felt like joining in their dance. It will be so good to have Melissa, she rejoiced inwardly. It would be a little bit of Missie back home with them again. Marty’s eyes grew teary, and she brushed at them with a corner of her apron.

  What will she be like? she wondered. She’s most grown-up now. Well, no, not quite. She’s only about nine months older than our Belinda.

  Marty turned back to her youngest. Belinda was acting awfully childish at the moment, but there were times when Marty had to realize that Belinda, too, was quickly growing up. She was a mature girl for her age in many ways. Yes, Melissa could well seem quite grown-up. They’d need to remember that in their dealings with the girl. Marty brushed at her tears again and turned to gaze out the kitchen window. It was going to be so wonderful.

  Belinda couldn’t wait and rushed out to greet Clark with the news. For a moment he looked as if he thought she was “funnin’” him, but when he looked over her head into the flushed and happy face of Marty, he grinned and flipped his work-worn hat into the air.

  “When?” he asked. “When’s she comin’?”

  “In just three or four weeks,” Belinda told him with great excitement.

  “Jest early enough to git herself settled afore school classes begin,” added Marty.

  Clark grinned again. “Thet spare bedroom gonna need some fixin’ up?” asked Clark.

  Marty hadn’t thought that far ahead. Belinda protested that she hoped Melissa would be able to share her room. But she soon stopped that line of argument, wondering aloud if perhaps Melissa would rather not do that.

  Marty nodded somewhat absently to Belinda. She was busy thinking about Clark’s comment. The room should be freshened up, all right. Perhaps she should sew new curtains and make a new spread, as well. It had been a long time since the spare room had seen anything new. Maybe Belinda would like to help in the planning. Marty’s mind continued to busy itself with many ideas, and she had the room nearly made new by the time she turned to walk the path back to her kitchen. But for the moment, getting supper on the table had to be her main concern.

  Belinda had gone on down to the barn with Clark, and Marty could hear her telling him other news from the letter as they went. Marty could not resist climbing the stairs for a quick peek into the room that would be for the girl. The door had not even been opened for several weeks. It smelled a bit musty and unused.

  Her eyes traveled over the walls, the floor, the curtains, the bed. Clark was right. The room did need sprucing up. Let’s see, Marty mused, this was Missie’s room before she was married. Melissa will be staying in her own mama’s room!

  Suddenly three or four weeks did not seem like a very long time after all. My, she had so much to do! Marty hurried back down the steps and to the kitchen as if getting supper quickly out of the way would be a great help in preparing for the arrival of her granddaughter. She chuckled to herself. That was silly. There wasn’t one thing she’d be able to do tonight to prepare for Melissa’s coming.

  Marty talked it over thoroughly with Clark, and they agreed on her plans for the room.

  “I do wish we knew a bit more about the girl’s likes an’ dislikes,” stated Marty. “It would be jest like me to go an’ choose a color she detests.”

  Clark smiled and patted her hand. “You’ll do jest fine, Marty. Remember how well ya did with the chinks in our first log cabin home?”

  Marty looked at him quickly to see if he was teasing her. She was deciding whether to be put out with him or not, but then couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of her vigorous scrubbing of the log walls and the wet, muddy chinking falling out on the floor in clumps. Clark finally laughed, too.

  “Well, it sure weren’t funny then,” Marty reminded him, wiping her eyes. “I was a feared the whole house was goin’ to come down around our ears!” Marty and Clark looked at each other awhile, remembering those long-ago days.

  “Well, anyway,” Marty said, back to the present, “I’m serious about fixin’ up this room for Melissa.” She paused to think a moment. “Belinda likes soft blues and greens but doesn’t care for loud, bright colors. Amy Jo loves bright reds and yellows and never picks a soft color in anything. Now, how do I know what Melissa might choose?”

  Clark didn’t say anything, but his face indicated he didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue.

  “Use soft colors on the walls and curtains and spread,” he suggested, “with a bit of brightness in some pillows an’ rugs.”

  Marty looked at him in amazement. Maybe he had more sense about such matters than she had thought.

  She nodded her head, in her mind picturing the room fresh with pale flowered wallpaper, fluffy curtains—maybe white eyelet fluttering at the window and a matching spread with lots of soft ruffles on the bed. Scattered on the bed would be bright pillows, maybe in shades of greens, yellows, and even blues, depending on the wallpaper pattern. On the floor could be homemade rugs. Patterned in bright colors and—

  Clark interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll do whatever you want—wallpaper, paint—whenever yer ready,” he was saying. “But you an’ Belinda will need to take care of the rest. I never could sew on a patch, much less make somethin’ fancy.”

  Marty smiled a bit distractedly at his comment, her mind still busy with the room plans.

  “Clark,” Marty said reflectively, “I think I’m goin’ to invite Amy Jo to come along with Belinda and me on our shoppin’ trip. I sure don’t want her feelin’ left out, with Melissa livin’ right here with Belinda an’ all.”

  Clark nodded in agreement. “We’ll want to be careful to make Amy Jo feel a part of things, seein’ she and Belinda have been more like sisters than anything else all these years,” he commented.

  And so their plans were made. Marty checked with Kate before telling Amy Jo about the trip to town. Kate was happy to have Amy involved in the choosing of the new things for the room. She, too, was aware that with three, it was easy for one to feel left out at times. She and Marty discussed the situation and agreed that they would keep their eyes and ears open for possible problems.

  Right after the morning chores had been done, Marty announced the shopping plans to two excited girls, and they ran to get ready for the trip into town.

  The first duty was to select a pretty wallpaper. Just as Marty would have guessed, Belinda picked a soft cream with a mint green print on it, but Amy Jo insisted that it was “too dull.” She wanted lavender with large yellow roses. Marty, finally at her wit’s end, decided to leave the wallpaper till later and took the girls to look at what was available in yard goods. Here again there was a difference of opinion. Marty loved the gauzy white for Priscilla curtains, Belinda favored the fluffy green organza, and Amy Jo insisted that a bright yellow with a bold pattern of purple flowers was the prettiest.

  “And think how beautiful it will be with that wallpaper pattern, Gramma!” Amy Jo enthused while Marty inwardly cringed. “Ya know, the same colors, but opposite—the flowers yellow on the wallpaper an’ . . .” she chattered on while Marty tried to figure out what to do.

  She began to wish she had left both girls at home and gone with her own inclinations. She suggested they take a break and go to the hotel dining room for a cup of tea. The girls agreed, really not all that interested in tea, but they knew the hotel served some pastries to which they were partial.

  Marty needed that cup of tea. She sipped it slowly, trying to sort out just how she would get around the differences of opinion. At last she decided to broach the subject head-on.

  “Seems—” she began, “s
eems we don’t agree much on how Melissa’s room should be done. Now, we don’t have Melissa here to do her own decidin’, and it would be rather foolish to wait an’ jest move her on in and then move her out again whilst we do up the room. Still—it would be so much nicer iffen she could make her own choices, but—”

  “Why can’t she, Mama?” interrupted Belinda. “She could share my room until her room is all finished—then we wouldn’t need to move her in an’ out.”

  Marty hadn’t even thought of that possibility. “Why, Belinda, thet might jest work! Let me see . . .” and Marty was off in thought, busy with more plans. It did make more sense to let Melissa do her own choosing. But what if her preferences tended toward those of Amy Jo’s? Well, it would be only two years and Melissa would be moving on again. Marty supposed that she could stand nearly any color scheme for her granddaughter’s sake. She could always shut the door, she decided with an inward chuckle.

  “I like yer idea,” Marty said to Belinda at length. “Maybe we should jest wait. Melissa could do the choosin’, an’ she’d feel more at home that way.”

  Belinda grinned.

  “Ya don’t mind sharin’ yer room fer a piece?” Marty inquired.

  “I don’t mind,” Belinda assured her. She not only didn’t mind, but she was looking forward to the opportunity.

  Amy Jo scowled as only she could. Marty and Belinda both knew she was displeased about something.

  “Ya jest want her in yer own room so thet ya can be friends faster,” she pouted.

  “Friends?” responded Marty, her head coming up. “Melissa is Belinda’s niece—an’ yer cousin. Ya don’t need to worry none ’bout bein’ jest friends. Yer family—both of ya.”

  But Amy Jo still frowned at Belinda.

  Marty finished her tea and gathered her belongings.

  “Well,” she said, “I guess thet’s what we’ll do. We’ll jest leave it until Melissa gits here. I think I’ll work on some new rugs, though. I can put in enough colors thet they will go with most anything. Don’t want to leave everything until last.”

  The girls still dawdled over their pastries.

  “I’m gonna go git the groceries I be a needin’,” Marty informed them. “When ya git done here, ya join me at the store.”

  They both nodded.

  “Now mind yer manners—and don’t go gittin’ yerselves in any trouble,” admonished Marty, and she smoothed out her skirts and started for the door.

  Amy Jo frowned at Belinda again.

  “Yer happy ’bout it, ain’t ya?” she said in an accusing voice.

  “’Bout what?”

  “’Bout waitin’ till Melissa gits here. ’Bout not pickin’ the room colors. ’Bout Melissa stayin’ in yer room with ya.”

  Belinda shrugged, trying not to look too happy about the turn of affairs. “Guess so,” she said. She didn’t think it would be right to deny it, either.

  “Well, I’m not. I wanted to help choose, too. I liked the colors I picked. An’ I jest bet Melissa woulda liked ’em, too.”

  “Maybe,” said Belinda.

  “I wish I could have ’em in my room,” went on Amy Jo, sounding determined to be negative. “I never picked my colors yet. It’s been the same, the same, ever since I was borned, I think.”

  Belinda doubted that, but she didn’t say so.

  Amy Jo sighed. “I’ll never git my own colors. Mama wouldn’t even like ’em. Green an’ white—thet’s all she ever likes.”

  Belinda saw nothing wrong with those colors, but she thought it best not to say so.

  They finished their cakes, and Amy Jo lifted each remaining crumb to her mouth on the tip of one long, tapering finger. Belinda watched her. She had never noticed how long and slender Amy Jo’s fingers were before. She compared them to her own. Her fingers were not as long, but there was a certain strength there in her slender hands. She turned them over and over. She couldn’t help but picture a scalpel there—a syringe. She forced her mind back to the present.

  “We’d better go,” she said. “Mama said she wouldn’t be long.”

  Amy Jo pushed back her empty plate and reluctantly trudged from the room after Belinda.

  Six

  Planning

  During the next three weeks, even the thrill of accompanying Luke on his calls took second place in Belinda’s mind. All she could think about was Melissa’s coming. What would she be like? Would they like each other? What about Amy Jo? How would things work out with three of them to get along instead of just two?

  Belinda wasn’t the only one holding her breath and wondering about the future. She knew Amy Jo wondered—and at times even shed a few tears. Amy Joe said she was sure the two girls, sharing a room up in the big house, would forget all about her. When Belinda attempted to remonstrate with her, Amy Jo had interrupted with, “Well, I don’t care.” She tossed her head and flounced off. But Belinda knew Amy Jo did care, and she was troubled.

  Marty and Belinda were working together over pie crusts in the big farm kitchen.

  “Excited ’bout Melissa comin’?” Marty asked.

  “Oh yes!” admitted Belinda. “I can hardly wait.”

  “Been thinkin’—it might be a bit hard fer Amy Jo.”

  Belinda did not argue.

  “We need to be extry careful not to let her feel left out,” went on Marty, and Belinda nodded, knowing her mother was really meaning “you” when she said “we.”

  “Have ya thought on any way we might do thet?” asked Marty.

  Belinda hesitated. “No,” she said slowly. “Not really . . . but I . . . I’ve been thinkin’ on somethin’ I’d sure like to do fer Amy Jo.”

  “What’s thet?” asked Marty.

  “Ya know Amy Jo’s room?” ventured Belinda.

  Marty nodded.

  “Well, it’s pale green an’ white. It’s been those colors—well, since she was born, I think.”

  Marty nodded again.

  “Amy Jo doesn’t like those colors,” Belinda dared to say.

  “She doesn’t?”

  “No. She’s sick, sick, sick of green an’ white. She wants somethin’ bright, or somethin’—somethin’ darin’, I think.”

  Marty nodded once more.

  “Ma, do ya think Clare an’ Kate would let Amy Jo have new colors?”

  “I dunno,” she said slowly. “Does this mean a lot to Amy Jo?”

  “I think so,” answered Belinda. “She feels kinda sad ’bout Melissa.” Belinda wondered if her mother might misunderstand and was quick to add, “Oh, she’s excited ’bout it—same as me. But—she’s sad, too, ’cause she won’t have Melissa livin’ at her house an’—”

  “I think I understand,” said her mother.

  Belinda stole a glance at her mother’s face to see if she did understand. After studying it, she felt sure that Marty really did understand what she was trying to say.

  “I’ll have a chat with Kate,” said Marty. “Maybe iffen yer pa an’ me offer to help with the wallpaper an’ the material, they’ll let Amy Jo do her own choosin’. She’s got a birthday comin’. We could do it fer her birthday.”

  Belinda wanted to hug her mother, but her hands were all covered with flour. She smiled happily instead.

  “Thanks, Mama,” she said appreciatively.

  But it was really Marty who felt the best about the conversation. She was pleased to know that Belinda cared enough to be thinking about Amy Jo, and was concerned that Belinda might consider only her own excitement about Melissa’s arrival.

  Marty decided she would tell Clark all about it when they had some time alone to talk. She was sure he would be pleased as well as she was with the maturity of their daughter. She did hope that Clare and Kate would see the offer of a new room for Amy Jo as a show of love rather than any kind of interference.

  Marty thought about the colors and prints Amy Jo was likely to pick, and she was secretly glad they would not be decorating a room in her home.

  You’ve made us all different,
Lord, she prayed quietly, and bless this lively and beloved granddaughter of ours. . . .

  Over coffee at Kate’s the next morning, Marty discussed the idea of redoing Amy Jo’s room as her birthday gift. Kate was thrilled.

  “I should have thought to let her do her own choosin’ before,” said Kate.

  “I saw firsthand some of Amy Jo’s choices,” Marty informed Kate with a chuckle. “Ya better be preparin’ yerself is all I can say. I hope ya like yer rooms colorful an’ bright.”

  Kate laughed. “I’ve seen a few of her choices. They are a bit shockin’, aren’t they? Well, I guess we will jest learn to live with ’em. I’m realizin’ more an’ more it’s like you an’ Pa have often said, they grow up awful fast, an’ soon they won’t be with us at all.” Kate poured more coffee, then went on reflectively, “Besides feedin’ an’ clothin’ and trainin’ our children, Clare an’ I need to be listenin’ to ’em an’ learnin’ to know ’em as people on their own whilst we’ve still got the chance.”

  Marty nodded, thinking of her own scattered family.

  “Ya know how Amy Jo has always liked to be drawin’ an’ colorin’?” Kate continued.

  Marty smiled in acknowledgment, remembering Amy Jo drawing and coloring pictures even before she started off to school. They often laughed about her color choices, but Amy Jo had loved the brightness and insisted on using the most colorful watercolors she had.

  “I’ve been talkin’ to Clare,” went on Kate. “I’ve been thinkin’ on gettin’ Amy Jo some things for drawin’ an’ paintin’ fer her birthday. Let her show her love fer color in her own way. What d’ya think?”

  Marty quickly agreed. “Maybe we shoulda done thet ages ago,” she mused aloud. “Why didn’t we think of it?”

  “Guess we’ve been too busy thinkin’ shoes an’ vittles,” Kate responded.

  Marty nodded. It did seem to take all a parent’s time just thinking of the physical needs of the family. “I think she’d love it,” Marty went on after giving Kate’s suggestion some thought. “She’s always loved bright an’ colorful things.”