by Janette Oke
Marty swallowed hard and blinked back her tears. Another of their children was establishing a home of his own. Soon there would be none of them left to share the big house that Clark had built for his family. And then a little jab under her ribs reminded Marty that it would be a while yet before the house would be empty, and she smiled through her tears and reached down a hand to touch the spot where her unborn child was making its presence known.
FIFTEEN
Back to Routine
Luke now had to board the stage once again and return to school. Marty sighed deeply at the thought of seeing him go, but somehow it seemed easier this time than before.
The household settled back into its routine. Arnie and his new bride took up residence in the little home that he had been so industriously preparing for them. The day Arnie had walked out the door carrying the last of his belongings from his lifelong homestead was very hard for Marty, but the broad smile on his face made her realize the truth: that all was as it should be when Arnie was looking forward to starting out on a life of his own. The thought gave her a measure of peace.
How glad she was to have Ellie as she watched Luke and Arnie leave the home. What a comfort to have at least one of her children still with her. Then Marty looked carefully at Ellie, and her eyes told her that something was not quite right. Ellie still looked pale and overtired. She had been working far too hard, with all the family at home for Christmas and then the added burden of preparing for Arnie’s wedding, as well. Marty decided that what Ellie needed was to get away from the kitchen for a while. She had heard some of the neighborhood young people talking about a skating party on Miller’s pond. That was what Ellie needed. A chance to be out having fun with young people of her own age.
Marty tucked the information away in her mind, with the intention of doing something about it at her first opportunity. Marty was not concerned about who would take Ellie to the skating party. True, the girl no longer had big brothers in the house to escort her to such activities, but that would be no problem. Lane would be happy to take over that role. He was such a nice young man, and he and Ellie seemed to get along just fine. Though she would miss her brothers, Lane would be good company and sort of an “adopted” big brother.
Marty smiled as she concluded these thoughts. She tucked the small sweater that was taking form under her quick needles back into her knitting basket and went to the kitchen. She had heard the dog bark, and that must mean the men were back from the woods. This was their first day back on the job since Arnie’s wedding. She hoped Arnie would stop for a brief chat before he went to his new home and waiting bride.
Ellie was busy at the big stove, stirring a pot of wonderfully fragrant stew. Fresh biscuits sat in a pan at the back of the stove, smelling as good as they looked. Marty noticed the table. It was set for four. For a moment, Marty thought Ellie had forgotten that Arnie would no longer be eating with them, and then she remembered Lane. Of course—Lane always ate with them after he spent a day in the woods. It had been a while since the men had all gone out together, and she had forgotten. She smiled again, thinking this would be a good chance for her to tell Lane about the skating party.
Marty was disappointed when Clark came in saying Arnie had been in such a hurry to get home to his Anne that he had sent his mother greetings and excused himself from coming in. He’d see her sometime soon, he promised, and told Clark to give her his love.
Lane did come in, but he seemed edgy somehow. This was the first they had seen him since Arnie’s wedding, and Marty had been all prepared for a good chat. Lane, though he politely answered all the questions that were put to him, just didn’t seem much in the mood for chatting. Ellie didn’t seem to be too talkative, either. Perhaps they were both weary after the rush and busyness of Christmas, Marty concluded. Well, things should slow down now.
Lane had been nervous about appearing as usual at the Davis table. He had not really seen Ellie since Christmas Day, except for a few brief glimpses of her on the day of Arnie’s wedding. She had been so busy then that there was no opportunity at all for him to speak with her. Lane felt it was important for them to get a chance to have a real talk. He couldn’t leave things as they were when he had presented his Christmas gift to her.
Some way he had to make her understand he would never take her from her mother while Marty needed her but would wait as long as was necessary if Ellie would just give the word. But what had Ellie said in her rush of tears? It would kill Mama iffen another of her family was to move so far away. Did Ellie really mean that? Would it really be that hard on Marty? Lane had to know. He needed a chance to talk things out. That is, if Ellie cared—if she cared at all about him. Could he have been so wrong? Maybe Ellie didn’t even—
Lane’s thoughts were interrupted by Marty’s words. She was asking how the logging was going. Lane answered her. He hoped that what he said in response sounded sensible. He stole a glance at Ellie. She seemed perfectly unaware that he sat across the table from her. She was completely absorbed in cutting a piece of meat into a smaller portion before serving herself.
“Ellie tells me you’ve laid claim on thet last pup,” Clark stated.
Lane looked back to Clark and fumbled some with his fork. “Right,” he finally was able to answer. “I always wanted a dog of my own an’ never had me a chance.”
“Think ya picked a good one,” Clark continued. “Those be awful good stock dogs, an’ I think thet pup be the pick of the litter. A little trainin’ an’ he should be ’bout able to read yer mind where stock are concerned.”
Lane could feel his face get warm. What was a cowman to do with a trained stock dog? Sure wouldn’t use one to be rounding up the herd. No one seemed to notice, and Lane shuffled his feet some and cleared his throat.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “He does look smart, all right.”
It was time for Ellie to serve the apple pie. Though Lane’s favorite dessert, somehow he had no appetite for it tonight. He did manage to swallow it, washing it down with his second cup of coffee. He stole another glance at Ellie. She still looked cool and aloof.
Clark was pushing back his chair.
“Care fer a game of checkers?”
Lane gathered his scattered wits. “No … no … I think not. Not tonight. I need to git me on home—”
“The chores are all done,” Clark reminded him. “I been over and took care of everythin’. No need fer ya to—”
But Lane was standing to his feet and excusing himself. “Thanks,” he said, “but I think I’d better git on home just the same. Christmas has a way of wearin’ one out, an’ it’s a little hard to git back to work again afterward. Think I’ll just go on home an’ catch up a bit.”
Lane was glad Clark did not argue further as he thanked them all again for the supper and the evening and turned toward his coat hanging on the peg.
“Speakin’ of Christmas wearin’ one out,” Marty said, moving closer to address herself to Lane as he shrugged into his coat, “I been noticin’ thet Ellie needs a bit of a change from all her hard work, too, an’ I overheard some of the young folks talkin’, an’ they said this Saturday they’re gonna have ’em a skatin’ party on Miller’s pond. Ellie knows where thet be, iffen you’d be so kind as to drive her on over.”
Ellie was pouring hot water into the sink, her back to them.
“I’d be most happy to,” Lane answered evenly.
Marty began to smile.
“No,” Ellie said sharply without turning. “No.”
Marty swung around toward her, a look of concern replacing the smile.
“No,” said Ellie again. “I’m not goin’.”
“What d’ya mean?” asked Marty, confusion in her tone. “Ya need to git out with the young people more. Why, ya hardly had a chance—”
But Ellie cut in with, “Mama, do you know just how young those young people are? Why, I wouldn’t even fit in! All the young girls my age are married an’ busy keepin’ house. Those young people … they … they’re
just kids. I don’t belong with ’em now, an’ besides … I don’t want to go … really I …” Ellie turned away. “Let’s just ferget it, can we?”
Marty looked dumbfounded. She turned back to Lane with a helpless look and a shrug of her shoulders.
“Guess it won’t be necessary,” she said in a low voice, putting her hand on Lane’s arm. “Thanks anyway, though.”
Marty turned to the cupboard. “Here,” she said. “Take ya home one of these fresh loaves of Ellie’s bread.” She hastened to wrap a loaf and hand it to Lane.
Lane took one last lingering look at Ellie. Her head was bent over the dishpan. He couldn’t tell for sure, but he wondered if it was a tear that lay upon her cheek. He muttered a good-night to all of them and went out the door.
Clark followed Lane to the barn to get his horse. The young man had declared it unnecessary, but Clark insisted. He wanted to check the barn doors anyway, he declared.
As Lane went to mount his horse, he turned to Clark. “Been thinkin’,” he said. “S’pose it’s time fer me to do my own chorin’. Willie sent me on out here to be takin’ care of things, an’ I feel a bit guilty not doin’ it myself. Tell the boys I’ll just meet ’em in the mornin’. A bit closer fer me iffen I go straight on over from the LaHaye farm. And then iffen I go right on home at night, I’ll have plenty of time to do my own chores.”
Clark knew this time that Lane had made up his mind to care for the LaHaye chores himself. He didn’t know what it was that had made the younger man decide as he had, but Clark put it aside as none of his business. He was sure Lane had a good reason, whatever it was. No mention was made of the meal that was always waiting at the Davis household.
“Sure,” Clark said, “iffen thet’s what ya want. Come anytime ya can. We’re always most happy to have ya.”
Lane said his good-night and urged his horse forward.
Clark returned to the warmth of the kitchen. Ellie was busy scrubbing at an awkward pan, and Marty was placing dried, clean dishes on the cupboard shelf.
Clark leaned his crutch against the wall and steadied himself on his one foot while he pulled out of his heavy coat.
“Lane won’t be here fer breakfast tomorra,” he said to the two women.
Two heads came up and two pairs of eyes held his. Only Marty voiced a question.
“Why?” she said simply. “What might keep Lane from breakfasting with us?”
“He thinks he should care fer the LaHaye chores hisself.”
“Maybe,” said Marty in a puzzled tone, “though I really don’t think it matters much to Willie as long as they’re taken care of.” Marty paused long enough to place some cups on hangers. “Maybe he’s not feelin’ well,” she wondered. “I noticed he didn’t eat well tonight. Perhaps a few days off from cuttin’ will do ’im good.”
“Oh, he’s still cuttin’,” Clark explained. “He’s just goin’ straight from the LaHaye farm, thet’s all.”
Marty looked at him, her eyes holding more questions. Then she turned back to the cupboard. “Well, we’ll see ’im tomorrow night. Maybe he’ll—”
“’Fraid not,” Clark said. “He told me he would be goin’ straight home from the cuttin’ from now on, so he won’t be takin’ supper with us anymore.”
Marty put down the plates she was holding and placed her hand on her hip, her frown deepening. “I wonder—” she began, but Clark stopped her.
“He was sent to care fer the LaHaye farm, not to cut the Davis’ logs. Guess he feels a bit bad ’bout how things been goin’, thet’s all. I like a fella who looks after his own responsibility.”
Marty still frowned but turned back to the plates. “I’m not arguin’ thet,” she said. Then she continued, “But it was so nice havin’ ’im round, ’specially with Arnie an’ Luke both leavin’. It was like havin’ another son—an’ it was gonna be ’specially nice fer Ellie to still have a big brother.”
Ellie swung around, her eyes large and tear filled. “Mama, please,” she begged, and then she was crying in earnest.
“What—?” began Marty, her utter bewilderment evident in tone and expression as she started toward her daughter.
“I’m … I’m sorry,” stammered Ellie, backing away. “I didn’t mean … I never meant …” She brushed roughly at her tears with a corner of her apron. “I don’t need … I don’t need another big brother.” And saying the words, Ellie almost ran from the kitchen.
Marty’s eyes were filled with concern. “I’m worried ’bout her, Clark,” she said, slowly lowering her round body to a kitchen chair. “I’ve never seen Ellie with all the sparkle gone from her so. I just never dreamed it would be so hard fer her to say good-bye to both Arnie and Luke.”
Clark had no explanation.
SIXTEEN
Secrets
In the days that followed, Marty kept a close eye on Ellie. She still looked pale and seemed listless, but she attacked each of her many household duties with the same determination and energy she’d had before. There just didn’t seem to be the joy that had previously marked her character. Marty was hoping it would return when Ellie got accustomed to being the only child left at home.
Ellie seemed to yearn to be outside. It appeared to Marty that she used every excuse possible to leave the confines of the kitchen. She was always taking food and water to the chickens. She even insisted on hauling water from the outside well—a chore Clark had never expected of his womenfolk. Mostly, though, she spent time with the young pup. The dog was of training age now, and Ellie seemed to get what little pleasure was left to her in teaching him the basics in obedience.
Whenever Marty inquired about how things were going with the dog training, Ellie’s answers contained a measure of enthusiasm. Marty felt these were the only times that the heaviness lifted for Ellie—her times with that small dog. Maybe even an animal could make one forget just how much one missed an individual, Marty concluded. It must be Arnie thet Ellie misses so much, she continued, because I didn’t notice this ’bout her ’fore Christmas, and Luke was gone then, too. Marty hoped for a chance to talk to Arnie. Perhaps he could just pop in a bit oftener and say a few words to his sister. That might help her in her adjustment period.
They saw very little of Lane. He seemed to make out fine as a bachelor. Marty heard via the country grapevine that many of the neighbors—especially those with marriageable daughters—were inviting him in for meals. The only time the Davises saw Lane was at the Sunday services, and then it seemed he always had somewhere else to go. Marty did notice, though, that he was looking a bit thinner than when he had first come to their area.
“I wonder iffen Lane is missin’ his West?” she said to Clark one night as they sat before the fire, Clark with a book and Marty with some sewing.
Clark lifted his head.
“Why do ya think thet?” he asked.
“Well, he don’t seem as jolly—an’ he looks to be losin’ some weight. An’ … an’ we never see him anymore,” she finished lamely.
“The fact thet we don’t see ’im anymore could prove he feels more at home here—not less,” Clark responded. “From what I’m hearin’, he’s gittin’ round real good.”
“Well, he still don’t look happy to me,” insisted Marty.
“I would love to argue with ya,” said Clark slowly, “but I been thinkin’ the same thoughts. Iffen it’s just thet he’s anxious to git on home, thet will soon care fer itself. I hear the LaHayes will be back in a couple weeks or so. Thet won’t be long fer ’im to wait.”
There was a soft stirring as Ellie quietly left the room. Marty could hear her in the kitchen. By the sounds that came to her, Marty knew Ellie was lighting a lantern and putting on outside wraps.
“Where ya goin’, dear?” Marty called. “It’s cold out tonight.”
“Just gonna go check on Lady an’ Ro—Rex.”
“I made sure they was all shut up warm an’ dry in the barn,” Clark called to Ellie. “Even gave ’em some extra milk tonight.”
“She sure is powerful concerned ’bout those dogs of hers,” Marty said to Clark. “’Magine goin’ out this time of night just to check on ’em.”
Clark picked up the book he had laid in his lap, but his eyes didn’t return immediately to the open page. Instead, he sat thinking, the frown lightly creasing his forehead. Something was amiss here, but as yet Clark wasn’t sure just what it was.
Ellie walked quickly to the barn, her swinging lantern making streaks of light and shadows on the snow-covered farmyard. Her heart was heavy, and she felt the tears stinging her eyelids. The truth was, she had learned to love Lane. Maybe it had been unwise, but it had been impossible for her to stop herself. She was sure he had cared for her, too. She could feel it in the way he looked at her, the unspoken and the spoken messages he had passed to her. And the locket? A man like Lane would mean a gift like that as a promise of his love—and Lane would not hold love lightly. They could have been so happy together—if only …
But what was the use of if onlys? Her mother needed her. Not just for now before the baby came but in the future, too. Marty had suffered as each of her children moved away from the family home. First, it had been Missie, and she had gone so very far away. When she had left, Marty had not even been sure she would ever see her again, would ever hold the children that would bless her home, or sit in her kitchen sharing thoughts and feelings along with cups of tea. Then Clae had gone and taken with her one grandchild and a well-loved son-in-law. Now Clae had another baby, one Marty had yet to see. Ellie knew Marty ached to see Clae and Joe and the little ones. Then Clare had married and moved out on his own. True, he was close by, and Marty could share in his life in lots of ways. Why, Marty was as anxious for that new baby of Clare and Kate’s as they were themselves. Ellie checked her thoughts. Well, not quite, she corrected herself and even managed a wobbly smile. Nobody could be quite as excited at the prospect of a new baby as Clare and Kate were.
