What Frees the Heart

by Karen A. Wyle

  Jenny gulped and said, “Yes, ma’am. What about his pa?”

  Mamie shot a stern look at her. “Just you make sure you don’t do anything even close to flirting. You’d best be as quiet around him as you can, so no one gets the wrong idea.”

  A knock on the door, and Trudi stuck her head in. “Jenny’s fellow’s here to pick her up, ma’am.”

  Mamie stood up. “You tell him we’ll be right there.” Trudi closed the door, and Mamie said briskly, “You run and get your things and meet me downstairs. I’ll entertain your young man until you come.”

  * * * * *

  Tom sat on the edge of the chair, doing his best to ignore the whispers and giggles coming from every corner of the room. He stood up as Mamie swept in and shooed the girls away. “You give us some room, and no eavesdropping or I’ll know it.”

  When things had got quieter, she steered him toward the bottom of the stairs. Tom couldn’t resist a glance upstairs where Jenny must be getting ready to join him.

  “Young man.”

  Tom twitched his head back toward Mamie and folded his hands in front of him. “Yes’m.”

  “I don’t know, and don’t really care to know, what you think of me. But the fact is that I take care of these girls as best I can, and consider myself responsible for them, up to a point. Jenny and her ma haven’t spoken in years, from what I understand, and that makes me the closest she’s got to a mother just now. So I feel called upon to say a few things before you take her off with you.”

  Well, it wasn’t much stranger than the rest of his life had been lately. “Yes’m, I’m listening.”

  “I don’t know how much she’s said about it, but Jenny had a rough time as a girl, and on her way here as well.” She read Tom’s face and added, “I see that isn’t news to you.”

  “Not really, ma’am, though I don’t know many particulars.”

  “You probably know enough to understand that she’s likely to have some fears about falling on hard times again. She can picture it, you see, more than a girl who’s never been there and might have romantic notions about what hardship is like, so long as you’ve got love.” From the twist she gave the word, Tom guessed she didn’t have much call to use it. He couldn’t tell if she believed in it.

  “And you, on the other hand, have known your own kind of hard times, but you’ve never gone hungry — not really hungry — nor known cold without shelter nor blanket, nor wondered when you’d next find shelter. It’ll likely come as a shock when you first encounter times like that. So I want you to be ready for it, as much as thinking on it can make you, and to promise — promise me, and Jenny even if she doesn’t know it, and yourself for that matter — that you’ll put her welfare ahead of yours, and live harder if it means she lives less hard.” She gave a half-smile with something of bitter in it. “For as long as you both shall live.”

  Her words sent a shiver down Tom’s spine, as if he could already feel the cold wind of some coming winter, where he’d need to work and struggle to keep Jenny warm. He managed to stand straight and look Mamie in the eyes. “I do. I will.”

  “You two look awful serious.” It was Jenny. Mamie had had him near to hypnotized, for him to miss her coming down the stair. She walked right up to him and grabbed his hand.

  He took the suitcase from her and turned back to Mamie. “We’ll be going now, I reckon. Thank you for — for taking care of Jenny like you have, and everything.”

  Jenny looked at Mamie and did a double-take, which made Tom look for himself and nearly do the same. Mamie had tears in her eyes. No wonder she’d made the other girls keep their distance, not to see as much. She opened her arms, and Jenny ran into them, holding on hard.

  It wasn’t long before Mamie unwound Jenny’s arms and gave her a little push toward the door. “That’s enough of that. You go on, girl. Go live the best life you can. Good luck to you.”

  And with that, she turned and bustled away, leaving Tom and Jenny to stare after her and then walk out the door.

  * * * * *

  Jenny might’ve seen Tom’s ma, for all she knew, but not to know it. And Ma had likely never seen her. Jenny was all of a shiver as they finally made it to the farm after their long walk from town.

  Tom’s ma and pa were waiting in the yard, along with his brother and sister. Both his sibs had eyes as wide as saucers. Ma held Martha’s hand and stood a little in front of her, the girl peering around her to see better. Jenny wondered if Tom’s ma even knew she was doing it.

  Mr. Barlow came up first. “Welcome, Miss Hayes. I’m Tom’s pa, as you must’ve reckoned. Welcome to our place.”

  Mrs. Barlow let go of Martha and joined her husband, smiling like she was nervous, and said, “Welcome. We’re glad to have you.”

  Jenny bobbed a curtsy to them both. “Thank you kindly, Mr. and Mrs. Barlow. I’m right glad to be here, myself.”

  Mrs. Barlow shook her head, which made Jenny pretty nervous herself until the woman said, “You’re going to be my daughter, so you may as well start right now calling me Ma.”

  Jenny’s breath caught in her throat. With all the things she’d been afeared of and all she’d hoped for, she’d never expected that. And here she stood gaping, when she needed to say something. “Thank you, ma’am. I mean — Ma.”

  The Barlow house was a whole lot bigger, not to mention better kept up, than where Jenny’d come from. She guessed the parents might have a room of their own, and figured she’d be sharing a room with Martha and Billy — and likely Tom, though how she’d sleep with him lying nearby, she couldn’t think. But when Mrs. — when Ma told Martha to show Jenny upstairs, they headed down the hall to a room with just one bed, a new-looking coverlet on it and everything spic and span. “This here’s our guest room. It’s the nicest, even nicer’n Ma and Pa’s.”

  Now she thought about it, it wasn’t hardly a surprise that Tom’s folks didn’t want her rooming with their innocent youngsters. She shook off the twinge of hurt feelings and said, “That’s right kind of your folks. It looks lovely.”

  Martha, ignoring or defying whatever purpose Ma might’ve had, plunked herself down on one end of the bed while Jenny put her suitcase down on the other end and started unpacking. She looked avidly at every dress Jenny pulled out, probably disappointed every time it wasn’t skimpy or bright red or drowning in lace. When the suitcase was empty, which didn’t take long, Martha asked brightly, “You’ve been to lots of places, haven’t you? Do tell about some.”

  Jenny shook her head. “Not that many, and mostly not very nice. Not near as nice as what you’ve got here. You should feel lucky, and thankful too.”

  Martha pouted. Then she went thoughtful, tracing the pattern of the coverlet with her finger, and asked, “Are you afraid of going off again? And with just Tom?”

  Jenny sat down on the bed and patted Martha’s hand. “Not a bit.” That might not be altogether true. But the next part, she believed, or more than she would’ve a few days before. “Tom will take care of me just fine.”

  Jenny did her best to be useful. She got up and dressed as soon as she heard anyone moving about, hurried to the kitchen, and set to peeling potatoes and frying eggs, even when Ma tried to make her sit and act like a guest. She tagged after Billy as he milked the cows, getting him to let her try it once she’d watched a few. She got most of the milk into the pail, and if she got some on her dress, Ma didn’t have to know. Billy probably wouldn’t tell.

  A few days after she’d moved in, Jenny came down to help with breakfast one morning and could tell that Ma had something on her mind. She wasn’t in any hurry to say what, seemingly, so Jenny just went about peeling and chopping up potatoes. What with trying to get the pieces close to the same size, she forgot about how Ma’d been acting until she took the bowl over to Ma and saw that Ma was still looking fidgety. Jenny handed over the bowl and stood there until Ma finally said, “We’re having the first quilting bee tomorrow. Over at the Flanders place.”

  They just stood the
re with the bowl between them until Jenny said, “You don’t want me to come, I reckon.”

  Ma rocked back on her heels a little as if something had startled her. Jenny had the funny feeling it was something in Ma’s own head. “I guess I do. You’re marrying Tom, and from what he says, you’ve been awful good for him. And you seem like a nice girl, at that. But — there’s likely to be someone there as’ll be less’n welcoming.”

  The someone might even be Mrs. Flanders, as was hosting the bee. But prob’ly Ma wouldn’t be more or less inviting Jenny if she thought Mrs. Flanders would bar the door.

  Jenny lifted up her chin and looked straight at Ma. “You’re making this quilt for Tom and me, ahead of when you were planning. And I’m still learning what to do with a needle, but I can stitch up pieces and do whatever else you tell me. I’ll come, if it won’t make things hard between you and your neighbors.”

  Up came Ma’s chin to match. “Not hard enough to matter. And I ain’t scared of some busybody looking down her nose. You come with me after breakfast, and I’ll show you what I’ve got done so far, and what you’ll be needing to do.”

  Martha came trudging in just then, sleepy and making sure they both knew about it. Ma chuckled like she’d seen it plenty of times before. “And Martha’ll be going with us, so you’ll have two of us there to take your part.”

  Jenny could just imagine Martha answering someone back and getting a reputation as disrespectful — if she didn’t have one already. “Thank you for that, ma’am — Ma. But I’d just as soon no one say anything. Knowing as you’re there, that’ll be enough.”

  There was more’n one busybody, and Jenny had to bite her tongue a couple of times, before she got caught up enough in the work that she could quit listening. Martha opened her mouth once like she planned to answer back, before Ma put a hand on her arm like she was holding her down.

  But the quilt looked to turn out right fine.

  * * * * *

  After Jenny helped Ma and Martha get dinner the next day, Pa leaned back, rubbed his belly, and said, “Soon as I digest this fine meal, I’m taking the wagon into town to pick up a few things. Would either of you ladies like to come along?”

  Jenny couldn’t stop her eyes from bugging out. Pa was willing to be seen with her, and to have Ma seen with her? She’d go with, even if she had nothing much to do in town. She could maybe get some store-bought handkerchiefs, and some sweets to give Tom’s brother and sister.

  And — she could gather up her courage and go see whether she’d got a letter.

  Jenny barely got back to the wagon before Ma and Pa did. She hadn’t reckoned on having time to read the letter stuffed in her pocket, but she’d hoped for enough to pull herself together. As Pa helped Ma up, she sat on her hands to hide their shaking.

  Her mama wouldn’t have wrote back just to say something hateful. That wasn’t her way. Or it hadn’t been.

  Ma looked close at Jenny’s face as Pa set the horse pulling for home. “You’re a bit flushed. Did anything happen in town? Someone being unkind, like?”

  Jenny shrugged, and then hoped Ma and Pa didn’t hear how it made the letter crinkle. “Nothing much. You saw how it was at the quilting bee — about like that. It’s better than what men get up to.”

  Pa’s jaw got tight. Jenny looked away. It wasn’t hard to find something else to think on out here away from town, with all manner of clouds scooting across the sky, and the prairie gold-like where the sun hit it between clouds, and a breeze poking under her hat and tasting sweet, and a red-tailed hawk riding the breeze higher up.

  She’d thought it’d feel like forever before they got back and she could go read her letter. But when Pa pulled the wagon into the yard, she wasn’t so eager after all. She made a point of helping carry the provisions in and putting things where Ma wanted them. And when Ma thanked her and told her it’d be a while yet before they started supper, she almost asked for some other chore to do. But whatever was in the letter, it wouldn’t get better with waiting.

  She climbed the stairs with her heart in her throat, it felt like, and pushed open her door — only to find Martha sitting cross-legged on her bed, playing a game of knucklebones and singing to herself. She looked up and grinned as Jenny stood in the doorway staring. “I wanted to see what you got in town, and not to have to unload the wagon. Hope you don’t mind my being on your bed.”

  Jenny had to laugh, though it kind of shook coming out. “That’s all right. I got some handkerchiefs, see?” She came over near the bed and pulled them out of her pocket, just managing not to bring the letter with them.

  Martha crawled forward on the bed and looked them over. “They’re nice, I guess. I thought you might get something fancier. Or maybe scented.”

  Jenny pushed aside a mix of feelings, some hurt and some huffy. No surprise that Martha’d expected the kind of handkerchief Mamie’s girls would flutter at a man in the street. “I’m going to be your sister, so I figured I should get the kind of handkerchiefs your sister would.”

  “Is that all you got?”

  Jenny’s face got hot, and she could just imagine how that looked. She had better say something quick. “I got a letter. From back home, I think, but I ain’t read it yet.”

  Martha started bouncing on the bed. It must be nice to feel so safe you could act like a little kid, just a few years shy of being a woman. “Did you write about Tom? I bet you did! Did you write about me too?”

  Jenny couldn’t help but smile. “I did. All of that.”

  Martha clasped her hands and beamed. “Will you read the letter out loud?”

  Time to act like a big sister, which Jenny hadn’t done in longer’n she wanted to think on. “No, I won’t. This is private, and you need to leave me be for a while.”

  Martha’s face fell, but she slowly climbed off of the bed and slumped toward the door. Jenny’d said the right thing, but it didn’t feel altogether good, so she added as Martha reached the door, “If they say anything about you or send you a message, I’ll be sure and tell you.”

  Martha turned and gave her another quick grin before heading down the stairs. Jenny made sure she kept going before closing the bedroom door and pulling the letter out.

  The writing wasn’t Mama’s.

  Jenny fell back against the door, the letter shaking in her hand, blinking tears out of her eyes. She tottered on shaky legs over to the bed and plopped down on the edge.

  Dear Sister,

  This is Agatha. Mama told me to write, along of her eyes give her trouble these days.

  Jenny breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  But really, I think it’s because she starts crying whenever she tries to write back, and enough time’s gone by already.

  We’re all real happy you met a fellow you like as wants to marry you. When I say all of us, I mean us girls and Joey and Mama, because Papa died last winter when he drank too much and got lost in a blizzard, between the barn and the house. Joey found him froze stiff and with ice all over him.

  Jenny put the letter down on the bed, folded her hands, and closed her eyes. Could she pray for Papa, as mean as he’d been, as much trouble and hurt his meanness had caused her? She wouldn’t’ve asked the preacher, not if he was standing right there in front of her. For some reason the face that drifted into her mind was Doc. She wasn’t sure just what he’d say to her, but it’d be something kind. And he’d expect her to have kindness in her, even about Papa.

  She squeezed her hands and her eyes tight and whispered, “Dear Lord, please forgive Papa his sins, as I hope you’ll be forgiving mine. And please give him the chance to repent, even if he didn’t think on it when he was freezing to death. Amen.”

  She opened her eyes and picked up the letter again.

  Charity got married to the new wheelwright right after harvest time last year. He’s some kind of handsome, and we was all real happy about it. We had the grandest party, which he paid for, along of money’s pretty scarce here even without Papa drinking it all away.
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  Since your fellow’s good with pictures, we’d sure like it if he could draw a picture of hisself, maybe standing next to you, for you to send. It could be on leather like you say he does, or any other way he’d rather. We’re all powerful curious what he looks like. What color hair’s he got? Has he got big muscles? Charity’s wheelwright does.

  Jenny could just picture Agatha’s mouth flapping with all her questions.

  Mama says to tell you she’s real glad you’re all right and getting married. She’s been afeared for you ever since you left with that oily fellow. You don’t say what you’ve been up to all this time, and Mama says I’m not to ask you, so I won’t.

  Which meant Mama had a pretty good notion. The letter took to shaking again.

  Mama says maybe you and Tom could come see us after you get married. We’re all wanting to meet him, and to see you again.

  Maybe they could head that way, sooner or later. There might not be so much call for saddles there, but men’d still want boots, and they could go through places where ladies wore fancy shoes. She could talk to Tom about it later, whenever she felt up to showing him the letter.

  Mama says to make sure I tell you she loves you.

  Jenny barely had time to put the letter out of reach before she busted out crying. At least she had a new handkerchief to use.

  Chapter 28

  When Tom came in all of a hurry that evening, she thought at first he was that eager to see her, before he called out, “Mrs. Clara’s time has come! I saw Doc running full tilt down the street so’s his hat fell off, which he didn’t stop to get, and Mr. Hawkins come into the shop and told us.”

  Ma got up and grabbed her coat off the hook. “Jenny, Martha, can you get supper? I’m going to go see if I can help. I don’t know as Doc would admit it, but it never hurts to have a woman there as has helped a few babies into the world.”