Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2)

by Janette Oke

  Fran and Tommie's baby arrived about the same time. A solid boy, whom they named Ben.

  Sally Anne gave birth to her third child, but little Emily lived only three days, and a tiny fresh mound was made in the cemetery by the church.

  Rett Marshall was now handling a team of horses 'most as good as a grown man. He loved creatures, tame or wild, and even had a young jackrabbit for a pet. A strange boy, people were saying, but now there was admiration in their voices.

  Marty remembered the conversation that she had overheard long ago between Mrs. Vickers and the doctor.

  "I often wonder, Doctor, how a man feels when he sees what his skill has done. Do ya ever wish thet maybe ya hadn't--well--hadn't fought quite so hard-like?"

  The doctor had looked at her evenly, sternly.

  "Oh, course not," he finally answered. "I didn't make that life--the Creator did--and when He made it, I expect that He had good reason for doing as He did--and what that reason is, is His business."

  Marty thought of this each time that she watched the boy whistle a bird down or make friends with a prairie dog. She thought of it, too, when she saw the love in Wanda's eyes or heard Cam's proud boasting.

  The LaHaye farmstead didn't resemble anything that had ever belonged to Jedd Larson. Zeke LaHaye was a good farmer who knew land well. Under his care the fields produced and the farm prospered. New buildings were erected and a new well was dug. Neat rows of fencing encircled the holdings. Still, for all of the prosperity of the land, Mrs. LaHaye remained in poor health. Nathan married a girl from town and moved her into the big house with the family. She was a pleasant girl and was able to take over much of the care of the home and was a great source of comfort to the senior Mrs. LaHaye.

  All around her, Marty saw change. New neighbors moved in. There was very little farmland now that wasn't taken. New buildings sprang up in town, almost overnight it seemed, as

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  new businesses were added. The town had even built a church of its own and had brought in a parson to care for the people. There was a sheriff's office and a bank for those who needed them. All this nearby, and in their small community they felt almost self-sufficient.

  They had their church, they had their school, they even had a doctor they could call for. Marty didn't feel much like a pioneer anymore.

  The next summer saw Clae and the young parson joined together in marriage. Instead of bringing in a parson to do the honors, the young couple went out. Parson Joe was anxious to introduce Clae to his family and also eager to have his former pastor and dear friend perform the ceremony. The Davises hated to miss the event but made plans instead for a supper to honor the couple upon their return.

  A daily stage now ran between the local towns, and Clae and her bridegroom were able to travel by stage rather than on horseback.

  The school board had agreed to rent them the teacherage for a modest amount, as Missie, upon commencing her duties, preferred to live at home.

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  Chapter 43

  Learnin' the Cost

  In spite of a bad accident with an axe, Clark met his log quota the following winter.

  He had been cutting logs alone on the hillside when the axe blade glazed off a knot and spun sideways slicing deeply into his foot. He had bound his foot as best as he could, packing moss against it and tying it tightly with a strip of his shirt. He was trying to make it home on one of his new work horses, Prince, when Tom Graham found him.

  Prince was not used to being ridden, and Clark had his hands full trying to handle the excited horse in his weakened condition. He lost a lot of blood and was quite content to be helped from the skitterish horse to Tom's wagon box where he could lie down.

  Tom pressed the horses forward in an effort to get Clark home as quickly as possible. He threw the harnesses on the fence and took his own horse, Dixie, to go for the Doc. Dixie was used to being ridden bareback.

  Marty nearly fainted at the sight of Clark. He tried to assure her that he would be fine, but his face was so white and his hands so shaky that she wasn't convinced. Marty got him to bed where she fussed and fretted over him, hardly knowing what should be done.

  "If ya see no fresh blood," Tom had admonished, "best ya leave thet foot alone 'til the Doc gits here."

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  Marty studied the foot for signs of fresh blood, but thankfully none seemed to appear.

  Being a woman, her thoughts went to food.

  "Could ya eat a little broth iffen I fixed it? Yer gonna need yer strength, ya know."

  It didn't seem to appeal much to Clark, but he shook his head in the affirmative, then cautioned, "Not too hot--jest warm."

  Marty complied. The hours until the doctor came seemed endless, but at last Marty heard a horse approaching. She stayed out of the room while the doctor cleaned and sutured the cut. A couple of times she heard Clark groan, and her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

  "And you," the doctor caught her by surprise, "you are most as white as he is. You best sit you down and have a cup of hot, weak tea with some honey in it."

  "Gonna take him awhile but he'll be fine. He's young and tough. He'll make it. Your big job is going to be to keep him off the foot until it has a chance to heal proper-like. Have a notion that your job won't be an easy one. Can't you put him to mending or piecing a quilt?"

  There was humor in the doctor's eyes and Marty laughed outright. The thought of Clark sitting contentedly with a little needle in his big working hand, matching dainty pieces for quilting, was just too much.

  In spite of the deepness of the cut and the loss of blood involved, the foot healed neatly and quickly. Clare and Arnie took over the chores and were quite able to handle them.

  Soon, Marty's biggest problem was to keep Clark down as the doctor had ordered. He chaffed at not being able to be up and busy as he was used to being.

  Parson Joe came as often as he could for a game of checkers. He usually brought Clae along. Other neighbors dropped in now and then. They informed him that the logs that had already been felled would be hauled to the mill before spring thaw, just as he had planned. Clark accepted their kindness with deep appreciation.

  Missie brought home books for him to read, which helped him pass many hours.

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  Finally, the long ordeal was over and Doc declared the foot well enough to be stepped on again. Clark hobbled, but at least he was again on his feet--a fact that each member of the household was truly thankful for. He never did completely lose his limp, and Marty noticed that on some days it seemed to be a bit worse than others. "It must still bother 'im," she said to herself. But he never did comment on it.

  The house was empty of little ones, they all being in school, and Missie was enjoying her teaching.

  As soon as Clark was able he was at the logging again. The neighbor men, true to their word, had hauled out all the logs he had previously cut, but according to his calculations, he would still need another four wagon loads.

  Marty watched him go with a feeling of anxiety and breathed a silent prayer of thanks when he returned safely at the end of the day.

  Marty looked forward to spring. This was the summer of the promised new house. And having the building begun would take on special meaning, for once it was started, it would mark the end of Clark's daily trek to the woodlands.

  It was an eventful summer. Marty watched as the new clapboard house took shape. It was even bigger than she had dreamed. There were a number of windows. A fieldstone fireplace graced not only the family living room and the parlor but the master bedroom as well.

  Clark had obtained two men from town to assist with the building, so that even when he was busy in the fields, the work went on. Marty measured the windows and bought material for the curtains so that they would be ready to hang when the house was completed.

  The house would not be ready by fall, but they planned to have their next Christmas in their new home. Nandry and Josh with little Tina, and a new family member by then, as well as
Parson Joe and Clae would all be home to share the Christmas turkey with them. They could even stay the night if they wished, and body would not be tripping over body.

  It was something grand to look forward to, and Marty spent many hours planning and dreaming.

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  Chapter 44

  Thet Willie

  Missie closed the exercise book she had been marking and heaved a contented sigh. It was hard to believe that she was already into her second year at the local school. She loved teaching. True, she had some rascals in her classroom, her own young brother Luke being one of them; but all in all she was glad that she had chosen to be a teacher.

  She piled the books neatly together and got up to clean the chalkboard. Her back was to the door, so she didn't see the figure move stealthily in, and when a pair of hands circled 'round to cover her eyes, she screamed in alarm.

  "Hey, hey, it's okay," a voice said, realizing that he had unintentionally scared her half out of her wits.

  "I didn't mean to fright ya, only surprise ya like."

  Missie looked into the face of Willie LaHaye. Through her mind flashed the dead mouse, the grasshopper, and the other pranks that Willie had played in the past. Her fright turned to anger and she swung around, stomping one small foot.

  "Willie LaHaye!" she exploded, "when are you ever gonna grow up?"

  She wanted to bite her tongue as soon as she had said it, for her eyes assured her that Willie LaHaye had indeed grown up--at least on the outside.

  Broad shoulders rippled with muscles as he moved, bushy

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  sideburns showed what his beard would be were he not clean shaven, and Missie had to look up a good way in order to throw her fury into his face.

  Willie only grinned, the same maddening, boyish grin. Missie spun around on her heel.

  "Well, now that you've had your fun, you can be leaving."

  "But I came to see the new school marm," he said, not at all perturbed by her anger. "I think thet I could use a little help on my A B C's.

  "A is for apple, B is for bait, C is for coyness--E is for Eve, and thet's about as far as I can git."

  "You're not funny--besides you missed D."

  "D," said Willie, "D--about the only thing thet I remember that started with D is--dear."

  Missie was so angry that she considered throwing the chalk brush she discovered was still in her hand.

  "Willie LaHaye!" she started.

  "I know," said Willie, "I'm not funny. Actually I stopped by to give ya some good news."

  "Like?" prompted Missie.

  "Like--I'm leavin'."

  "Yer what?"

  "I'm leavin'. I'm goin' on further west." Willie was suddenly very serious.

  "To where?"

  "Not sure. Ya know when Pa settled here, he had been planning on goin' on further. Hadn't been fer Ma gettin' sick we would have gone on. Well, I always was a mite disappointed. I'd sorta like to see what's over the next hill. Pa's all settled in here now, and Nathan is married and settled in too, an' I suddenly got to thinkin' they don't need me around atall."

  Missie had cooled down some and was willing to talk if Willie would be sensible.

  "What does your pa think?"

  "Haven't told 'im yet."

  "When would you go?"

  Willie shrugged. "Don' know--that depends on a few things."

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  "Like--?"

  "Like Ma--she's still not well, ya know, an' other things. Thought maybe next summer--maybe."

  "Not soon then?"

  "Depends."

  Missie turned back to her boards and finished erasing the day's lessons.

  "How's the teachin' goin'?" Willie asked.

  "Good," said Missie "--only I had to send Luke to a corner today."

  "What'd he do?"

  "He dipped Elizabeth Anne's ribbons in an inkwell." "Spoil-sport."

  Missie remembered her own ribbons being dipped in an inkwell.

  "It's not smart," she said defiantly, "hair ribbons cost money."

  "Reckon they do. I'd never thought about that."

  "Well, I told Luke that he had to save his pennies to buy new ribbons for Elizabeth Anne."

  "You're a smart teacher."

  "Not smart--just--"

  "Pretty?"

  "Of course not. Look, if you're not going to talk sense, I refuse to talk to you."

  Missie walked over to close the open window. It was stuck. It wasn't the first time that it had stuck.

  "Here let me help."

  Willie stood directly behind her and reached out for the offending window. Missie was imprisoned between his arms. Her face flushed. She dared not turn around or she would be face to face with him.

  Willie didn't seem in any hurry to lower the window, though looking at the muscular arms, Missie knew that the problem wasn't inability.

  "Can't you get it either?" she asked, her voice surprisingly controlled.

  "It's stuck all right."

  "Willie LaHaye!" she stormed swinging around suddenly;

  "you're a liar."

  "Yeah," he said grinning as the window came effortlessly into place. And there was Missie standing within the circle of Willie's outstretched arms.

  Before Willie could make a move, Missie ducked down and under, then stepped back a pace, her eyes flashing fire. Then she swung on her heel and grabbed her coat.

  "Please see that the door is closed when you leave!" she hissed, and was gone.

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  Chapter 45

  Missie's Callers

  Missie had her first caller. Marty knew that it was bound to happen, and soon, but even so she was unprepared for it when it did.

  Missie had been the youngest member of her small class at the normal school, and, though Missie never said so, a popular member as well. Occasionally Missie referred to this fellow student or that fellow student, but Marty had had no reason to feel that anyone was special for any reason. Then one day at her door appeared a tall, sandy-haired young man, very well groomed and properly mannered. An expensive-looking horse, appearing to have some racing blood, stood tethered to the hitchingrail.

  "How do you do. My name is Grant Thomas. Would Miss Melissa Davis be in please?" His voice was most respectful.

  Marty stammered. "Why--why, yes--she's in." She finally found her tongue and her manners. "Won't ya come in please?"

  "Thank you. And are you Melissa's mother? She spoke of you often."

  Marty was still flustered. "Thet's right--please step in. I'll call Missie--a--Melissa--right away."

  Missie seemed pleased to see the young man. Marty watched carefully for signs of more than just pleasure.

  Grant stayed to share supper with them and proved to be a quiet, yet intelligent, young man. Clark seemed to quite enjoy him, and Marty kept sending Clark silent warnings that he shouldn't encourage him too much.

  He said that he planned to ride on into town before nightfall. Missie saddled Lady and rode part way with him. They visited and laughed as they rode, thoroughly enjoying one another, which made Marty feel funny little shivers of fear run through her. Missie was so young--only seventeen. "Please, please don't make me give her up yet."

  When Missie returned she went to the pasture gate and turned Lady loose, brushing and fussing over her before she sent her on her way. When she stopped outside at the basin to wash her hands, she looked quite normal enough. She paused to admire Ellie's cushion top that the younger girl was making before coming into the kitchen. She came in humming to herself as she often did. Marty could hardly wait.

  "This here Grant, don't recall ya sayin' much 'bout 'im." "Not much to say. Let's see--"

  Marty could already see Missie's trick coming--"throw Ma off with some facts, nonessential facts, but facts none the less." "He's three years older than me, an only child, his ma leads the Ladies' Aid and his pa's a doctor. His folks live in a big stone house on Maple Street, I believe, only about seven blocks from the normal
school. They like to entertain, so they have Grant's friends--which includes almost everyone--over for tea, or tennis, or whatever. There."

  Marty wasn't to be sidetracked so easily. "What I want to know is, are you one of Grant's friends?"

  "Guess so."

  "Special like?"

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  "Oh, Ma," Missie groaned, "how do you make a fella understand that you like him fine--but it ends there?" "Did ya tell 'im?"

  "I thought that I had before."

  "An' this time?"

  "I hope that he understands."

  Missie moved on to her room and Marty kept her knitting

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  needles clicking. She must remember to speak to the boys and inform them that she wanted to hear no teasing about the young man who had called. She hoped that the fellow truly did understand. Poor Grant.

  Marty was not to be at peace for long, for Lou Graham asked Clark for permission to call. Marty had no problem accepting Lou, but she still had trouble accepting the fact that Missie was growing up. Nandry and Clae had both been older than the norm when they received callers and married, and Marty had half hoped that Missie would follow their example. Perhaps Missie would have, but the young men seemed to have other ideas.

  Lou sat in their parlor now. He and Missie were busy playing checkers. Marty noticed Missie deliberately lose. Missie was a good checker player and would never, without intention, be caught as she was. Lou's mind didn't seem to be too much on the game, however, so perhaps the young man had some excuse.

  Clare, Arnie, and Luke found it difficult to understand why Lou did not choose to join them in pitching horseshoes as he always had in the past. The three boys were finally sent to bed still puzzling over the situation.

  After checkers, Missie fixed cocoa and sliced some loaf cake. The adults were invited to join the young people at the kitchen table, and they found no difficulty in chatting with the young Lou.

  Missie walked with Lou to the end of the housepath and waited as he untied his horse and left for home. They had grown up together and should have felt quite at ease in one another's company, but their new relationship had placed a bit of tension between them. Time would care for that.