by Janette Oke
Missie felt embarrassed. "That's fine, Mrs. Taylorson. We don't want to drive your husband from his own home. Willie and I were thinkin' of a walk, anyway."
But Mr. Taylorson rose.
"I'd rather smoke on the porch enyhow--git out of this insufferable heat." He gathered his pipe and tobacco and headed for the door. "You smoke?" he asked Willie.
"No, sir."
"Ya can join me enyway iffen you'd like."
Willie followed him out and Missie began to help Mrs. Taylorson clear the table.
"Now, now," Mrs. Taylorson said in alarm. "Yer board and room payment doesn't say enything 'bout deductions fer yer help."
Missie stammered, "I--I wasn't thinkin' of deductions. I just thought that I could give you a hand."
"Fine--fine, iffen ya wish to, but it ain't called fer--an' it won't change a thing."
Missie helped carry the leftover food and the dishes to the kitchen. It really was unbearably hot. She finally excused herself and went to find Willie. She really did want a walk.
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Chapter 18
News
Two days later, amid the busyness of getting ready to leave with the southbound supply train, Willie burst through the bedroom door. Missie had been at her sewing.
"Guess what?" he exclaimed, hardly able to contain himself. "Whatever it be, it must really be somethin'," Missie answered with puzzled surprise.
"It is! It really is! I went in to thet tely-graph place up town and I found out thet fer only a few cents we can send a telygram back home."
"Back home?"
"Yep! Right to yer folks. The office in town there will git the message to 'em. So I figured as how we should do jest that." "What would we say?"
"Jest let 'em know thet we made it safe an' sound--an'-- maybe tell 'em about the baby."
"Oh, Willie," Missie cried, "could we?"
"Grab whatever ya need an' let's go."
Missie quickly smoothed her hair, then picked up a light
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cotton bonnet. Just in time she remembered the window and gently closed it just in case Mrs. Taylorson should check her room while she was gone. Willie had to restrain Missie's pace on the way to the telegraph office.
"Slow down some. It ain't gonna go away," he said with a laugh. Then he continued, "The man says thet ya have ten words."
"Oh, dear," Missie sighed, "how are we gonna say it all in ten words?"
They reached the office, and Willie opened the door for Missie. She didn't know if her breathlessness was due to their brisk walk or her excitement.
They labored together over the wording, composing and changing, re-composing and changing again. Finally they felt that they had done the best that they could. Willie handed the message and the money to the man behind the desk.
The message read, "Isaiah 41:10. Missie remains, Tettsford. Grandchild due October. Inform Pa."
Missie's eyes misted as she envisioned the excitement and relief when the telegram was received by her parents and the news was passed on to Willie's pa.
"Oh, Willie," Missie asked, "do ya think Pa LaHaye will mind gettin' the message secondhand?"
"Iffen I know my pa," Willie said, "he'd think me a squander- in' ignoramous iffen I sent two of 'em to the same town." "When will it get there?"
"Fella says if no lines are down and there's no other trouble, they should have it in a coupl'a days.
"Now I'll walk ya on back to Taylorsons and then git back to the figurin' an' loadin' of my supplies."
"No need to go with me. I'll find my way back and just sorta take my time. Where's Henry?"
"He's over at the smithy's. He's been a powerful help to me. I don't know what I'd a-done without 'im."
"Has he been callin' again?"
"Iffen ya mean has he been to town, yes. I haven't asked him his doin's."
Missie smiled. "It's not really that hard to figure though, is it?"
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"Poor Henry," said Willie, "he has my sympathy. Once one of you cute little things git yer fingers all twisted up in a fella's heart, he's a goner. Well, I'll see ya at six."
Missie turned to walk back to the Taylorsons, lighthearted in spite of the oppressive heat.
She tried again to picture her pa and ma when they'd read the telegram. It wasn't hard to figure what they'd do. They'd stop whatever they were doing and thank God for His care for their children, and they would pray for the new baby. Missie felt both joy and sadness together.
When she reached her room she was no longer in the mood for sewing. She opened her window wide and lay down on the bed.
In a very few days the supply train would be going south, with Willie following. How she wished she could go as well. The absurd notion of trying to stow away crossed her mind. Willie would only turn around and bring her back once he discovered her. No, there seemed no way out. Willie would go and she would have to stay.
"God," she prayed, "that help you're a-promisin'--I'm really gonna need it now." The tears were again threatening to come when Missie heard steps on the stairs. She quickly went to the window and closed it.
"Ya got visitors," Mrs. Taylorson called. "Seem' as how they be ladies, I gave 'em the privilege of the parlor."
Missie hurried down. To her joy she found Kathy Weiss and Melinda Emory.
She greeted them eagerly, exchanging a quick hug with each girl by turn.
"Henry told us where to find ya," Kathy explained.
"Oh, I'm so glad that you came," Missie said. "I was up in my
room lying down, and beginning to feel sorry for myself." Mrs. Emory took her hand. "An' you have reason to, Mrs.
LaHaye. If I were you, I'd be feeling the same way." "Would you?"
Melinda Emory nodded her head and tears showed in her eyes. "I would. In fact I'm not sure that I would stand for it at all."
"Oh, I tried to argue, but Willie just wouldn't hear of it. He's downright unreasonable 'bout it--since Becky."
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"I can understand how Willie feels," Kathy said. "An' as hard as it is, I think he might be right."
" 'Course he is," Melinda said. "Men usually are. It's just very difficult for us women, that's all. We're too sentimental to be practical."
Missie nodded. "I guess that's so," she said, "an' I'm afraid that I have made it rather hard for Willie."
"I don't suppose he expected you to stay without some resistance."
Melinda, changing the subject, then asked, "Are you all settled?"
"Yes--I guess so. I kept as few things as I could so that it wouldn't mean too much trouble later. I did keep my sewing machine. Willie thought it would help me to be busy--and I do need to do the sewin' for the baby. Anyway, I love to sew."
"So do I," Melinda said with fervor. "I had a machine--" She stopped short.
Missie quickly spoke up, "Oh, if you'd like to use my machine--anytime. I would be so pleased to have your company." "Could I?"
"Please do! The little bit of sewing that I have to do will never keep me busy for the whole three months."
Melinda smiled. "Thank you so much, Mrs. LaHaye. I would so appreciate that."
"Please, call me Missie."
"An' my name is Melinda. You can even shorten it if you like."
"Melinda suits you. I like it."
Melinda smiled.
"I heard you found work," Missie continued.
"Yes, of a sort."
"It must be awfully tiring."
"It is that, but at least I'm paying my own way and it won't be long until school starts. With my salary from the hotel--an' your sewin' machine--perhaps I can start school in style." She smiled again.
"I was a schoolteacher, too--before I married Willie." "Really? An' a good one, I'm sure."
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"I hope so. At any rate, I loved it. Some days I miss it." "I wish I had some trainin' like thet," Kathy remarked. "I'd
love to git a job to help Pa out fer awhile. But the only work thet
is available fer a girl here, iffen she doesn't have special training
Pa won't hear tell of."
"Your pa will make out just fine, I'm sure," Melinda comforted. "In no time at all he'll have all the business that he can handle."
Kathy smiled a weak, yet hopeful, smile. "Yeah, I reckon he will. Still, I'd like to do more than just keep house." "Do you like to sew?" asked Missie.
"I've never learned, so I really don't know."
"Well, why don't I teach you? Between Melinda and you and me, we'll really keep my machine hummin'."
They all laughed.
"Could ya? I mean, would ya mind?"
"'Course not, I'd love to."
"Then I'd love it too."
Mrs. Taylorson bustled through the door.
"I brung you girls some tea," she said. "Company don't come to my house an' not git served--even iffen it ain't my company."
"Oh, Mrs. Taylorson, how kind!" Missie exclaimed, pleased that her landlady was so thoughtful. She introduced her friends and explained to Mrs. Taylorson that she might see them often. Mrs. Taylorson seemed to enjoy the idea. It occurred to Missie that the woman might not have much company of her own and missed it.
The girls continued their visit over their tea and cookies, including Mrs. Taylorson in their conversation.
At length the visitors rose to leave. They invited Missie to visit them, which she promised to do.
Mrs. Taylorson eagerly invited the girls to return "jest anytime." Missie returned to her room feeling much better. It had been a good day. God had given the help He'd promised. The telegram home, the visit with friends--a reminder that she would not really be alone when Willie left--these were gentle kindnesses given from the hand of a loving Father. With all of these blessings, Missie felt a warm glow inside.
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But then she thought of Willie's impending departure, and the warm glow faded somewhat.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise on the stairs. She turned to the door. Willie entered the room and deposited a strange heap on the floor. To Missie it looked like a bundle of canvas.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing.
"The gear thet I'll be needin'."
"Gear?"
"Fer ridin', once I'm at the ranch."
"You're gonna ride in that?"
"Sure am. It might look a bit strange, but it's a cowboy's best friend out on the range."
"What is it," Missie asked skeptically, "an' how do you use it?"
Willie lifted the canvas. "It's chaps," he explained. "Ya jest pull 'em on over yer trousers, like so. The heavy canvas sheds the rain, takes the spines of the cactus and keeps all manner of weather and injury from a rider. Ya really ought to have some yerself."
Missie laughed, and then pointed to a square of red material. "An' what's that?" she asked.
"A bandana. Ya wear it round yer neck--tied loosely like this." Willie demonstrated. "When ya get drivin' them little dogies an' the dust flies so thet ya can hardly breathe, ya just pull it up over yer mouth an' nose--like this!"
Missie giggled. "I thought that was what you used when you were holdin' up a bank."
"Guess a few have used it fer thet as well," Willie smiled. "I'll remember thet, should I ever intend to hold up a bank."
Missie laughed again and then turned seriously for a good look at the strange apparel. It was going to take some getting used to--seeing Willie decked out in these strange canvas pants. She tried to imagine herself in them and smiled softly.
"Reckon for now," she said, "I'll just plan to fight the cactus an' the rain without the help of those."
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Chapter 19
Sunday
The week passed quickly, and it was Sunday. After inquiring the time of service, Willie and Missie prepared themselves and headed for the church spire they had seen. The building was bare and drab on the outside, but inside it showed evidence that someone cared for it. The congregation was small, even though the numbers were boosted some by the presence of Henry, Mr. Weiss and Kathy, Melinda Emory and the LaHayes.
The preacher looked old and rather worn-out, Missie thought, but when he arose to preach, fire was in his voice and his face glowed; Missie was caught up in his sermon. It was so good to hear real preaching again. She had enjoyed the services of the wagon train, but she had missed having a preacher speak from the Word of God.
The preacher greeted each one kindly at the door and expressed a welcome to the newcomers, inviting them back. Willie explained to the man that he would not be around for another Sunday but he was sure that Missie would be there faithfully. "We shall welcome you," the old gentleman said with
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warmth. "And if you should ever need a friend, my wife and I would be happy to welcome you to our home, as well."
Missie thanked him for his kindness and stepped out into the shimmering day.
"Anything you'd be a-carin' to do today?" Willie asked as they walked the short distance back to the Taylorsons.
"Yeah," said Missie, with longing in her voice, "I'd like to go for a long walk among some cool trees, or picnic beside a crik, or maybe just lay beside a spring and watch the water gurgle."
"Missie," pleaded Willie, "don't--please, don't."
"I'm sorry," Missie whispered. She tried hard to think of something that could actually be done and enjoyed in the heat of this dusty, drab town.
"We could call on the Weisses."
"All right," Willie agreed enthusiastically, relieved that she had thought of something. "I sure do hope thet Henry won't think I'm spyin' on 'im." He caught her hand in his.
That afternoon at the Weisses, they received such a hearty welcome that Missie's spirits lifted. Henry also was there, though he didn't seem one bit put out to have his boss appear. Melinda Emory was there, too, so the six of them settled in for a good visit. Kathy served cold tea, declaring the day to be far too warm for hot tea or coffee.
Missie was surprised at how quickly the time flew by. "Can ya stay fer supper?" Kathy pleaded.
"Oh, I don't think we can," Missie said. "We didn't say anything to Mrs. Taylorson, an' supper is at six."
She and Willie exchanged smiles.
"How 'bout iffen I run over an' inform yer good landlady?" Henry asked.
"Oh, but--"
"Why not?"
"Please stay," Kathy begged. "The men will be gone by next Sunday."
Missie weakened. "Well, I'm not sure what she'll think, butwell--okay. Iffen she hasn't started to prepare, she shouldn't mind, should she?"
It turned out that both Henry and Willie walked over
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together while the girls went to the kitchen to give Kathy a hand.
Mrs. Taylorson did not object. In fact, Willie got the impression that she was relieved at not having to fuss about for extras on such a warm day.
Kathy's meal consisted of fried meat, hot biscuits and gravy. It was served with love and laughter, and everyone enjoyed the time spent together.
"I know," Kathy said, after the dishes had been washed, "let's have a sing-song, for ol' times' sake."
The rest agreed. Henry went for his guitar, while Mr. Weiss tuned up his violin.
They sang all the songs that they knew--folk songs, love songs, dance tunes and hymns. When they were finished, they sang their favorite ones all over again.
It was late when Willie and Missie walked back to the Taylor- sons hand in hand.
"I'm afraid that we've broken Rule Number Six," Missie said.
"An' what is thet?"
"Bedtime is at ten o'clock," Missie replied in a mock stern voice. She broke into laughter, then quickly checked herself and added, "We'd better be careful or we'll break Number Two as well."
"An' thet is--"
Missie affected a gruff, deep voice again. "No loud talkin' or laughin'."
"Ya little goose," Willie said, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her close. "Do ya have 'em all memorized by number?"
&nbs
p; "I think so. I've read them often enough."
"Speakin' of readin'," Willie said, "ya really should have somethin' on hand to read. I'll talk to the preacher tomorrow. He may have a good idea of what books can be had."
"Oh, Willie, stop frettin"bout me. I've got all that sewin' to do, and all that yarn to be knitted up, a piano to learn to play, and sewin' lessons to give. Surely it will keep me busy."
"Well, we want to be sure," said Willie.
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Chapter 20
Parting
On Wednesday Willie announced that the wagon train would be pulling out early the next morning. Missie had to bite her lip all evening to keep the tears from flowing. She hoped that Willie didn't notice, but of course he did. They retired to their room early so that Willie could get all of his belongings packed. It didn't take long. Time suddenly seemed to be heavy on their hands.
"Funny," Missie mused, "time is so short and precious, an' yet one doesn't really know how to spend it."
"Have ya everything thet ya need?" asked Willie for the umpteenth time.
"I'm sure that I have."
"Well, I'll leave ya some money, jest in case."
"Really, Willie, I don't think I'll be needin'--"
"Ya never know. Maybe somethin' thet ya need or be wantin'-- an' you'll need some fer church offerin'."
Missie only nodded.
"I'm glad thet you have Kathy an' Melinda."
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"Me too."
"I hope ya see 'em real often."
"Melinda will be workin'--but she promised to come over evenin's to sew."
"An' Kathy is free to come anytime--right?"
Missie nodded again. "The first thing that she wants to sew are some curtains for her kitchen window."
"An' ya can visit 'em too," continued Willie.
Missie agreed.
"Ya might pay a call on the preacher an' his wife, too. They seem like real nice folks. Jest don't stay out too late--please, Missie?"