by Janette Oke
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 time 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—parttime, 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 had 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.
She remembered now that she had forgotten to tell the girls about the hotel room. She hadn’t yet told them about her thinking Clark’s watch was lost to thieves, or about the night spent with the bedbugs, or the sight of the real western Indians with their furs for sale. There was still so much to talk about, but talk would just have to wait.
Clark had placed her cases in the corner and returned to the family below.
Marty turned at a movement behind her and saw Luke approaching with the portable bathtub.
“Thought ya might be wantin’ to wash off some trail dust before retirin’,” he said simply and placed the tub on one of the large rugs in the middle of the floor. “I’ll be right back with a couple of pails of warm water.”
Marty gazed at their youngest son with deep love. It was just like Luke to realize she would want to soak in the tub before retiring.
True to his word, he was soon back, and Marty thanked him as he emptied the buckets of water into the tub.
“When yer done just leave it sit,” Luke said, “an’ I’ll take care of it in the mornin’.”
Marty nodded and Luke started to go. At the door he stopped and turned to her. “Good to have ya home, Ma,” he said softly. “Been awfully lonely around here without ya. I missed ya.”
“An’ I missed you,” Marty said with emphasis. “I was so afraid you’d be off fer yer trainin’ an’ me not here to send ya. I was so thankful when ya decided to wait fer a year. I do hope it ain’t caused problems fer ya.”
Luke smiled. “Did me lots of good, I’m thinkin’. Doc has been a great teacher. Can’t believe what he’s taught me over the last year. It did somethin’ else fer me, too, Ma. There’s not a doubt in my mind but thet I want to be a doctor. Some fellas have a hard time at first knowin’ fer sure, Doc said, an’ then it’s a lot of time an’ money wasted.”
“An’ you have no doubt?”
“Nope, none whatever.”
“Then yer Pa and me will give ya our blessin’—even though I hate to think of ya goin’ so far away.”
Luke smiled. “Thanks, Ma,” he said. “I’m ready to go now. I wouldn’ta been last year.”
He was gone then, and Marty turned to her bath.
Oh, how good it feels! she thought as she climbed in and sank into its warmth. She let it wash away all of the travel grime and the extreme weariness from her aching muscles. A clean, warm night-gown, a few brushstrokes of her hair, and she was ready for her bed.
She had no more crawled in than there was a light tap on her door. After Marty’s “Come in,” Ellie entered.
“Just had to say good night an’ welcome home,” she whispered and leaned over to kiss Marty on the cheek. “It’s so good to have ya home, Ma. I missed ya.”
“An’ I missed you. Ellie, I’m proud of the job ya did when I was gone. Everythin’ looks so good, so well cared for. Makes me very proud … an’ a little scared, too.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah, scared. I have to admit, an’ I hate to, thet yer truly able to make some lucky man a good wife. I don’t even want to think of thet, Ellie. I hate to lose ya.”
Ellie laughed softly.
“Ma, the worrier,” she said as she stroked back a lock of stray hair from Marty’s forehead. “Don’t ya go frettin’ none ’bout thet. I’m in no hurry at all to set up housekeepin’ on my own.”
“Yer not interested in a home of yer own an’—?”
“Now, I didn’t say thet. Sure, I want a home of my own … an’ a family of my own. I just haven’t found the one I wish to share it with yet, thet’s all.” Then she leaned and kissed Marty’s forehead. “Now, you go to sleep an’ sleep as long as ya want in the mornin’. I’ll care fer the family’s breakfast.”
Marty was just closing her eyes when again her bedroom door squeaked and Arnie tiptoed over to her bed. Marty forced her eyes to open.
“’Fraid ya might already be sleepin’,” Arnie said softly. “Didn’t want to waken ya iffen ya were. Clare an’ Kate said to tell ya good night for them. They came over to say it in person an’ found thet you’d already come up to bed.”
“I shoulda thought to wait—”
But Arnie interrupted, “You’ve had a long, tiring day. Pa says thet yer ’bout beat. He’d chase me outta here right now iffen he knew I was botherin’ ya.”
Marty smiled.
“I better git,” Arni
e continued and bent to kiss Marty on the top of her hair. Then he whispered softly, “She’s really special, Ma. Yer gonna love her. I’ll tell ya all ’bout her tomorra.” And Arnie, too, was gone, stepping from her room as quietly as he had come in.
Marty’s weary eyes would no longer stay open. Her last thought was of Clark. Where was he? He should be in bed, too. He was just as tired as she was. And then her mind would no longer function, and Marty slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep.
THREE
Taking Stock
Clark’s side of the bed was empty but still warm when Marty’s eyes first opened next morning. She had not slept late. After the rest received in her own bed, she was ready to get reacquainted with her farm home. As soon as she had enjoyed Ellie’s breakfast and helped with the dishes, she went out to the garden. Ellie and Kate had indeed planted it well, with more than they would be able to use. Marty smiled as she looked at the quantity and variety of growing things. She had no argument with the types of vegetables the girls had planted, and there no doubt would be neighbors who would be happy to use some of the extras. The garden was already flourishing and productive looking. Though it was still early in the season, Marty could see the potential for a good yield. Here and there she poked a plant upright or patted some extra earth around it or complimented one on its exceptional size for the time of year.
She turned from the vegetable garden to the flowers. The early blooms were already nodding in the morning breeze, dew-sparkled in the sunlight. Marty breathed deeply of their sweet scent as she moved from plant to plant. Honeybees buzzed about the flowers, sipping sweetness from the open petals.
Marty then went out toward the fruit trees. It had been a good spring for the blossoming, and Marty saw that the trees promised a wonderful harvest if the needed rains arrived in time. She prayed they would as she moved on toward the spring.
