Love's Unending Legacy

by Janette Oke

  FOURTEEN

  Christmas

  Marty, filled with excitement about the nearness of the Christmas season, was also anticipating Arnie’s upcoming wedding. But she was absolutely overjoyed by the fact that Luke would soon be home.

  Oh, how she had missed him! His letters, which seemed all too infrequent, reminded her of how lonesome she was for their youngest son.

  She baked his favorite cakes, fussed over cleaning his room, insisted that his favorite foods be on hand. And even when all this had been accomplished, she still bustled about trying to think of something more to do to make sure of his welcome.

  “Why don’t ya just sit ya down and relax?” Clark asked her. “Yer gonna be wearin’ yerself out. It’s you the boy is comin’ to see, not the house or the pantry.”

  Marty knew Clark was right, and she tried to hold herself in check. But it was awfully hard.

  On the day of Luke’s arrival, Marty suffered a disappointment. She had planned all along to travel into town to meet his stage, but the day was bitterly cold with a strong wind blowing. And Clark firmly announced she would best stay home by the fire and let them bring her son to her.

  She knew there was no use arguing, but how she chafed and stewed! She finally consented, insisting that Clark and Arnie—the two making the trip to town—promise to hurry home just as fast as the team would bring them. Clark agreed and left in time to do any shopping beforehand so they could leave for home as soon as they could load Luke and his luggage.

  The day went awfully slowly for Marty. Ellie shook her head at her mother’s pacing back and forth to the window. “Yer gonna wear out the floor,” she teased, but her tone said she understood.

  At last the team was welcomed by the dogs, and Marty ran to open the door for Luke.

  At first appearance, Marty felt Luke had not changed much in the few months he had been away. He had really not grown taller, and he was about the same weight. His grin was as broad and his hug still as hearty. It wasn’t until they had been together for some time that Marty began to recognize little changes. Luke was no longer her “little boy.” He was well on his way to being a responsible man. The knowledge both saddened her and made her proud. She felt that he was seeing her in a different way, too. Luke had always been her compassionate and caring son. Now he looked at her, as well, with the concern and practiced eye of a doctor. Oh, true, Luke had a long way to go before he would be qualified, but he was already seeing the world through a physician’s eyes.

  The trips to the woods were put off during the busy time of Christmas celebration and Arnie’s wedding. Lane hated to think of not having an excuse to visit the Davises for a whole week, but Marty seemed to feel he was a part of the family and always found some reason for him to come over.

  Lane helped Ellie set up and decorate the tree in the big family living room. The boys were busy with other things, Marty said, and it was a big job for the girl to do all alone. Lane was happy to assist and enjoyed the evening immensely. Ellie was in a carefree mood, and her light chatter and silvery laugh rather went to Lane’s head. What would it be like to share this task with this girl for the many years ahead? he asked himself and readily admitted that he liked the idea.

  Christmas Day found the house crowded with family. Children ran in and out, laughing and shrieking and exclaiming over Christmas surprises. The menfolk gathered in front of the open fire and roasted fall nuts and told jokes on one another, with much hearty laughing and good-natured backslapping. Women bustled about the kitchen, stirring and tasting and seasoning the huge pots that spilled savory odors throughout the whole house. Lane, who could not remember ever having been a part of such a Christmas before, joyfully absorbed every minute of it. Gifts from the tree were lovingly distributed, and Lane had been thoughtfully included. Marty’s warm knit stocking cap would keep his head protected on cold winter days in the woods.

  Eventually they were all gathered around the extended table. Chattering children were silenced for a season, joking men became serious, and the busy women laid aside their aprons and sat with hands folded reverently in their laps. Clark lifted down the family Bible and read aloud the Christmas story, as he had done on each of the preceding family Christmases, and then led his household in prayer. He remembered each of the absent ones by name—Willie and Missie and their children, and Clae and Joe and their little ones. He thanked the Lord for bringing Luke back to them for a visit. He prayed for the new family members who were yet unknown and asked that God would bless the mothers who carried them and make the new babies a blessing to many in the years to come. He asked God’s blessing on Arnie and Anne as they shared the family table and would soon be establishing a home of their own. He prayed for Josh and Nandry and each one of their children. He thanked the Lord for Lane and his presence in their home and his friendship that meant so much to the family. He remembered the Graham family and this first difficult Christmas without the husband and father of the home. Last, he remembered Marty, his helpmate over the years. He thanked the Lord for her return to good health and asked God to give them both wisdom and direction as they guided the new little life with which He had seen fit to bless them.

  It was a lengthy prayer, spoken sincerely. Even the children sat quietly, for Grandpa was talking to God.

  In direct contrast, the meal itself was a noisy affair. Over the steady hum of chatter and loud laughter, one could scarcely hear oneself think. Lane stole a glance at Ellie. Cheeks flushed, golden hair wisping around her face, eyes sparkling with happiness, she answered some teasing coming from Clare. Lane was unable to hear her words, but from the look on Clare’s face, he could guess Ellie was able to give as good as she received. After Clare’s initial look of surprise at her quick response, he began to laugh and exclaimed loudly, “Well, ya got me there, little sister.”

  The children were excused to go back to their toys, and the adults settled down with another cup of coffee. The talk was not as boisterous now.

  Clark leaned back and looked at his youngest son. “Yer lookin’ good, boy. They must be takin’ good care of ya.”

  “The Whistlers? They do all right, that’s for sure. Aunt Mindy fusses even more than Ma.” Luke looked at his mother with a grin.

  “An’ yer likin’ the studies?” Clark went on.

  “I love it. Learning something new every day.”

  “Like?”

  “Ya wouldn’t believe what they are able to do now—in surgery, for treatment. I’m just getting a glimpse into it, but it’s a whole new world out there. In a few years’ time, with what they are learning, they’ll almost be able to make a man over again if something goes wrong with him.”

  “Guess I was born a few years too soon,” Clark moaned in mock despair and brought laughter around the table.

  “No fooling, Pa,” said Luke. “You ought to see the artificial limbs they’ve got on the drawing boards now.”

  “Ain’t no help on a drawin’ board,” replied Clark, and his sons laughed again.

  But it looked like the doctor in Luke was not to be put off with joking. He began to explain the advancements in artificial limb design. Before he was finished, he was kneeling before Clark with the pinned-up pant leg containing its stub of a leg unself-consciously held in his hand. He explained to the gathered family what could soon be done. “You’ll forget you even have a leg missing!” he exclaimed. “I told Dr. Bush you were a natural to be one of the first to try it out. I want you to have one, Pa.”

  Nandry left the table. Marty thought she was going to check on the children. But when the meal was finished and the dishes were being cleared away, Nandry still had not returned.

  The afternoon was spent in playing games, toasting nuts, and visiting.

  “Remember the Christmas at Missie’s when we all joined together in carol singing?” Marty asked Lane.

  He nodded his head, remembering it well.

  “Henry played his guitar,” Marty went on and then interrupted herself. “Ya played your guitar, to
o.”

  “You play the guitar?” asked Arnie, immediately interested.

  “Some,” answered Lane.

  “I always wanted to play a guitar,” continued Arnie.

  “Henry taught me. ’Fraid I wasn’t too great a pupil, but I learned enough to sorta git a kick outta it.”

  “Do you have yer guitar with ya?” asked Ellie rather shyly.

  “At the LaHayes’,” he answered.

  “I’d like to hear ya play sometime.”

  Only Lane and Ellie seemed to be conscious of the undercurrent flowing between them. None of the other members of the family seemed to notice that Lane’s eyes followed her about the room or that her cheeks flushed when she found him looking at her. Her simple words now were more to him than a statement. They came as a request, and without a spoken word his eyes made a promise.

  Nandry returned—from where, Marty did not know. Perhaps she was not feeling well. Marty hoped she wasn’t coming down with something that would keep her from Arnie’s wedding. Nandry stayed on the fringe of things, keeping a close eye on the children and even bustling about in the kitchen some.

  The day itself was clear and bright, though the air was cold. The children begged to go out to play, but Nandry stated it was far colder than they thought it to be and the outside could just wait.

  Lane, too, longed to get out. He ached for an opportunity to be alone with Ellie. He had done some shopping in the nearby town and had purchased a locket, which he had withheld from the Christmas gift exchange. He wanted to give it to her privately. But where and when would he ever find privacy on a day when the family had gathered together? He wished he were daring enough to ask Ellie to go for a walk, but he couldn’t gather the courage. The day was swiftly passing, and still he had found no opportunity to speak with her. Ellie herself, perhaps unknowingly, gave him the opportunity he had been longing for.

  “I’m gonna take a few goodies to the barn fer Lady and yer pup,” she said. “Ya wanna see ’im?”

  Lane bounded to his feet. The whole group must have thought he was uncommonly fond of his young dog.

  “Better wear yer coat. It’s cold out there,” Ellie cautioned at the door, for Lane would have left the house in his shirt sleeves, so unthinking was he at the time.

  He flushed slightly and pulled on his coat. Ellie was already bundled and ready to go.

  “Yer gonna be surprised at how he’s grown,” Ellie told him as they walked to the barn.

  Ellie threw wide the door, and the two little pups pounced upon her, licking and yapping excitedly. Ellie giggled as she tried to get them under control. Lady watched from the sidelines with a mother’s pride.

  “My, ya do fuss over a body!” she exclaimed and worked to settle them down so she could give them the pan of turkey meat, gravy, and dressing scraps.

  “They love it,” she said, watching them wolf it down. “Pa says I spoil ’em.”

  The pup really had grown. He was still curly haired, and he still had his long, droopy ears, and he still looked awfully good to Lane. In his mind was the picture of a beautiful girl cuddling a small puppy. He reached down and picked it up, holding the wriggling body to his chest as he stroked the soft fur. Ellie stepped closer and touched the puppy, too.

  “He doesn’t have a name yet,” she told him. “Thought of one?”

  “How ’bout iffen you name ’im?” asked Lane.

  “Me? He’s yer dog.”

  “I’d still like yer name fer ’im,” Lane said, looking steadily at her. Ellie stopped stroking the puppy and stepped back.

  “I dunno,” she said. “I haven’t really been thinkin’ on it.”

  “What would you have called ’im iffen ya coulda kept ’im? I bet ya had a name all picked out.”

  Ellie’s smile admitted that she had.

  “C’mon,” said Lane. “Out with it.”

  “Don’t s’pose you’d want my silly name none. It’s not a very sensible name fer a man’s dog.”

  “Why? What’s a sensible name fer a man’s dog?”

  “Oh, Butch. Or Pooch. Or Ol’ Bob. We used to name our dogs Ol’ Bob. We had one Ol’ Bob, and when we got a new puppy, Arnie named it Ol’ Bob, too. Mama told me ’bout it.”

  “Don’t think I care fer Ol’ Bob,” said Lane. “Or Butch or Pooch, either. This here’s a special dog. He should have a special name.”

  He looked at her, coaxing her to share the name that she had picked for his dog. She still hesitated.

  “C’mon,” he said again.

  “You’d laugh.”

  “Never!”

  Ellie began to laugh softly. “Well, ya might not laugh, ya bein’ so polite, but ya sure would want to.”

  “A good laugh is good fer a body,” replied Lane, and Ellie’s laughter sounded like she agreed.

  “Okay,” she said. “An’ have a laugh iffen ya want to. I woulda called ’im Romeo.”

  “Romeo?” and Lane did laugh.

  Ellie joined in. When they had finished chuckling over the name, Ellie said more seriously, “Why don’t we just call ’im Rex?”

  “Rex. I kinda like thet. Though it sure be a comedown from Romeo.”

  They laughed again.

  “Promise ya won’t tease?” asked Ellie.

  “Tease?”

  “’Bout Romeo.”

  “Promise,” said Lane. “I might even call ’im thet myself—once or twice—in private.” And he put the puppy back down beside his mother.

  Ellie picked up the pan and turned to go, but Lane stopped her.

  In response to the question in her eyes, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package.

  “I wondered when I would git to give ya this,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to put it under the tree with the others. It’s my Christmas gift to you.”

  Still Ellie said nothing. He passed it to her and she took it, looking down at it with confusion in her face.

  “Open it,” prompted Lane, and Ellie’s trembling fingers began to do his bidding.

  As she lifted up the delicate locket, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, Lane, it’s beautiful,” she whispered, and then the tears did spill. “But I can’t take it.”

  It was Lane’s turn to be bewildered. “Ya mean … what I was hopin’ … was dreamin’ … I didn’t see a’tall?”

  Ellie just stood mute, the tears continuing to fall and the fingers gently caressing the locket.

  “Ya don’t care fer me?” asked Lane.

  “I never said …” sobbed Ellie.

  “Then there’s someone else.”

  “No,” said Ellie emphatically.

  “Then I don’t understand—”

  “It’s Mama. She needs me.”

  “I know,” said Lane gently, reaching out to take her hands. “I’ll wait. I’m not meanin’ to take ya away now. It won’t be long—”

  “But ya don’t understand!” cried Ellie. “It would near kill Mama. She misses Clae and Missie so. It would break her heart iffen another of her girls were to move so far away. Can’t ya see…?”

  “But surely—”

  “No,” said Ellie, shaking her head again. “I just couldn’t do it to Mama. I wouldn’t.” And she pushed the locket back into Lane’s hand and ran from the barn, leaving her pan behind her.

  Lane felt a sickness sweep all through him. He loved her. Until that moment of losing her, he had not realized how deeply. He looked at the locket lying in his open hand and longed for the comfort of tears. He did not allow them. Instead he sank down upon the straw and reached for the small dog. He pressed his face against the soft fur and remembered how Ellie had looked with her face against the puppy.

  “Oh, Romeo,” he groaned. “I just don’t know how I’ll live without her. Yer a mighty poor substitute, I’m a thinkin’.”

  It was a long time before Lane felt composed enough to return to the house.

  Arnie’s wedding day turned out not to be a fair day weatherwise. The wind was
blowing and light snow was swirling as Clark tucked the blanket securely around Marty in the sleigh and headed for the church. All of the others had gone on before, and Marty fretted over last-minute concerns.

  “Ellie has everythin’ under control,” Clark reminded her. “Ya needn’t worry yerself none. The weddin’ dinner will happen all proper like.”

  Marty knew that was true. She had worked on the dinner preparations in the kitchen with Ellie as much as her family would allow her, and then her physician-to-be son had gently but firmly shooed her to bed.

  “You’ve been on your feet long enough,” Luke insisted. “I’ll help Ellie with whatever she needs.”

  And now the rest of the family were all at the church making the final wedding arrangements and waiting for the preacher to give the signal that the long-awaited hour had come.

  Clark let the horses pick their own pace. Because they hated the cold and were in a hurry to get the journey over, they trotted briskly, Marty noted with some relief as she held the blanket up to her cheeks to prevent frostbite.

  Other teams belonging to family and friends stood waiting in the churchyard when Clark swung his team in close to the steps and helped Marty alight. Luke was there to assist her in and hang up her coat. She was then seated in a spot reserved for the mother of the groom and had only moments to wait until Clark joined her.

  The wedding party began to take their places in the front. Marty had never seen Arnie looking happier nor Anne more radiant. Ellie seemed a bit pale and strained, and Marty chided herself. The girl had been working much too hard. She must see that Ellie got a good rest when all of this excitement was over.

  It was a beautiful ceremony. The young pastor was able to give it the proper dignity and warmth of feeling that a wedding service should have. Before a caring congregation, the young couple exchanged their vows, looking at each other with expressions that said they meant deeply everything they promised.