Love's Abiding Joy

by Janette Oke

  Missie briskly led the way to the chicken pen. Forty or fifty hens squawked and squabbled in the enclosure. They looked healthy enough, and Missie assured her mother that they were very good egg producers.

  Josiah immediately began hollering at the chickens, attempting to throw handfuls of grass and dirt at them through the wire. Since the wind was blowing from the wrong direction, most of it blew right back into Josiah’s face, so Missie put a stop to the activity. Josiah was quick to obey, blinking dust from his eyes.

  As they moved on toward the unassuming soddy, Marty noticed that Missie referred to it with love and even joy, a fact that Marty found very difficult to understand. Missie pushed open the rough wooden door and they entered the dim little sod shack. When Marty’s eyes had adjusted, she could make out the bed in the corner, the black iron stove right where it had been, the small table, and the two stools.

  Marty gazed all around her, from the simple furnishings to the sod roof and the packed-dirt floor.

  This is the “home” that waited for you after that long, hard trip? And you actually lived here, Marty thought incredulously. You actually lived in this little shack—and with a new baby! How could you ever do it? How could you stand to live in such a way? My, I …

  But Missie was speaking: “Willie wanted to tear it down, to get it out of here, but I wouldn’t hear tell. I’ve got a lot of memories in this little place. We’ve had to resod the roof a couple of times. Roofs don’t last too long with the winter storms, the wind and rain. And once they start to leak, they aren’t good for anything.”

  Marty did not express her feelings about the soddy. Instead she expressed her feeling for her girl. “I’m so proud of you, Missie—so proud. I hoped to bring ya up to be able to make a happy home fer the one thet ya learned to love. An’ ya did. Ya looked beyond these here dirt walls into the true heart of the home. Home ain’t fancy dishes an’ such, Missie. Home is love and carin’. Remember when I insisted on those fancy dishes, Missie? I said thet you’d be so glad fer them someday. So I fussed ’bout ya takin’ ’em, even though ya really had no room fer ’em an’ could’ve taken somethin’ more sensible in the little space you had in the wagon. Well, I was wrong, Missie.” Marty’s hand touched her daughter’s cheek. “I was wrong, an’ you were right. Home ain’t dishes, frills, an’ such, Missie. Home is love an’ carin’. You showed me thet ya could truly make a home, an’ ya could do it with jest yer own hands an’ yer own heart. I’m proud of ya. So very proud.”

  Missie’s answering smile was understanding as Marty wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked around once more before leaving the small soddy. This time it did not look as bleak nor the floor as earthy. In those few short minutes, something had happened that changed the appearance of the little room.

  SEVEN

  Catching Up

  After insisting on a story from both Grandma and Grandpa, the children were finally tucked into bed for the night. Clark and Willie moved into his office, a small room off the kitchen, to discuss the business of farming and ranching. Missie and Marty settled comfortably in the living room with coffee cups.

  “It was useless to try to ‘catch up’ before this,” said Missie, “but I think things are quiet enough now for us to talk—really talk. I have so many questions. I just want to know about everyone—everyone. I hardly know where to start, but you might as well start talking, because I just can’t bear to let you go to bed until I find out all about those at home.”

  Marty drew a deep breath. “I’ve been jest ’bout dyin’ to tell ya all ’bout the family. My, ya’d be surprised iffen ya could see yer brothers an’ sisters now!”

  “Is big Clare still the tease?”

  “Worse … worse, seems to me. He’s always funnin’, and I sometimes wonder iffen he’ll ever grow up. Yer pa says he will, once he marries an’ settles down.”

  “And what is his Kate like? Clare wrote to me. Sounded in the letter as though she was nothing less than an angel sent from heaven. What’s she really like?”

  “Kate’s a fine girl. We feel she’s jest what Clare needs. She’s quiet and steady, a little overly cautious at times, but they should balance each other real well. She’s quite tall, with brown hair, large violet eyes … I think it was the violet eyes thet caught Clare’s ’tention. Though she’s not what ya’d call a beauty, she does have very pretty eyes.”

  “And you said they’re going to marry this fall?”

  “August twenty-seventh. Might have been a little sooner, but we wanted to be sure and have lots of time to get home again and git us ready fer the big event.”

  “Does Arnie have a girl?”

  “He’s been callin’ on a little gal over in Donavan County. You remember Arnie—he’s more the shy type. He takes things pretty slow like. Ellie says thet Hester will need to do the proposin’ iffen it ever gits done!” Marty chuckled. “I think Arnie jest hasn’t quite made up his mind yet. Wants to be good an’ sure. She’s a nice little girl, but her brothers are rather nogoods. Have a bad reputation in the area. Arnie ain’t ’bout to let thet influence him, but he feels it’s important when one marries to accept all the family members.”

  “Sometimes that just isn’t possible,” remarked Missie.

  “Well, Arnie feels thet with Hester it has to be. She is very protective of her brothers. Would fight fer ’em if necessary. Arnie admires thet in her. But he wants to see the good in ’em that Hester sees. So far,” Marty laughed softly, “I think he’s been hard pressed to find some good, even though he’s sure been lookin’.”

  “I hope he doesn’t spend too many years looking and in the meantime let some girl with no such problems be snatched up by someone else.”

  Marty sighed. “Arnie deserves a good girl. He’s so sensitive to the feelin’s of others. He’s got a lot of his father in him, thet boy.”

  “What about Ellie? Does she have a beau yet?”

  “Not really. Not yet. Guess I was sorta hopin’ ya wouldn’t ask. I keep tryin’ to pretend thet she ain’t old enough yet—but I guess I know better, deep down. She’s old enough. She’s pretty enough, too. I guess she jest hasn’t encouraged them much to this point. Ma Graham remarked ’bout her soon marryin’ an’ leavin’ me. She’s right. I’ve seen the boys tryin’ to git her attention in a dozen ways. I always jest thought of it as schoolboy stuff. Not really. One of these days she’ll notice ’em, too.”

  “Wish I could see her,” Missie said, the yearning clear in her voice. “I suppose there would not be any chance she could come out and stay with us for a while?”

  Marty felt a moment of panic. Ellie come out here? The West is full of young men. Why, if she came to see her older sister, she might marry and never return home again! Marty fought back her uncomfortable thoughts and responded in an even voice, “Maybe she could come on out on her honeymoon.”

  “But you said she didn’t even have a beau—”

  “She don’t yet. But, my, thet can happen fast enough. I’m half scared she’ll have her mind all made up ’bout some young fella by the time I git back home.”

  Missie laughed. “Now, I hardly think that’s possible. Not for the short time you’ll be away. Are you sure you can only stay for two weeks? Seems hardly worth coming all this way for such a short time.”

  “We couldn’t possibly stay longer. Takes a week to come out an’ a week to go home. By the time we git back, we’ll have been gone a whole month. It’s a busy time of the year, ya know. Pa left his boys completely on their own fer the summer hayin’ an’ all, an’ Clare has to git his house ready. Luke is studyin’ hard for his college exams an’—”

  “Dear little Luke.” Missie’s voice was gentle. “How is he?”

  A softness filled Marty’s eyes. “He’s not changed. Growed a little, I guess, but he’s still got his same ways. Remember how he liked to cuddle up close in your lap when he was a young’un? Well, I git the feelin’ sometimes he’d still like to do thet—iffen society wouldn’t condemn it. He finds
other ways to show love now. ’Member how you always used to pick me birthday strawberries? Well, yer pa broke up the pasture where the strawberries grew so well, so the last couple a’ years the kids have jest forgot the strawberries. This year Luke decided thet I needed my birthday berries, so he went out real early an’ went lookin’ fer ’em. Had to really work hard, but he came back with a cupful. They was little and a mite on the green side, but I never tasted any better berries—ever.”

  “An’ he’s still doing well in school?”

  “He’s a good student, but he’s through at the local school now. The teacher says she’s given him everythin’ she can give. He’s read everythin’ in sight an’ still can’t git enough.”

  “What will he do? He can’t just quit.”

  “He plans to go on. Wants to go to the city fer college. I’m glad … an’ scared … an’ sad. All at the one time. I hate to see him go off alone like thet. Seems so young. He’s only fifteen.”

  “Is he plannin’ to be a teacher?”

  Marty paused a moment before answering. “A doctor.”

  “A doctor?” Missie’s tone was both surprised and admiring.

  “He’s had his heart set on it for a number of years now. He’s talked to Doc Watkins ’bout it, too. Doc is pleased as a pappy. He doesn’t have any children of his own, an’ he’s takin’ great pleasure in nursin’ Luke’s ambitions.”

  “That would be nice to have a doctor in the family.”

  “Luke says he wants to help people. He’s always wanted to help people, an’ with so many towns not havin’ a doctor—”

  “What I wouldn’t give to have a doctor here,” Missie broke in, her tone wistful. “Young boy of our neighbor broke his arm last year. There was no one to set it properly. He’ll always have a twisted, almost useless arm, just because …” Missie’s words trailed off. “I keep thinking, what if it had been Nathan?”

  Marty looked at her daughter and understood. She knew a mother’s heart and the panic when a doctor is nowhere around when one is sorely needed. She, too, breathed a prayer that somehow this frontier settlement might soon have a doctor, but she also added silently, Not Lukey. Please, not Luke.

  Missie interrupted her thoughts and her unspoken prayers. “How are Nandry’s and Clae’s families?”

  Marty was happy to report on the two Larson girls who had joined the Davis family when Missie was just a youngster. Marty spoke lovingly of the grandchildren who brought such joy and delightful commotion to family gatherings. “Nathan and Josiah would have sech fun with all their cousins,” she noted.

  “Tell me about the neighbors,” Missie said. “Do we still have the same people living round about?”

  “Pretty much. The Coffins moved on back to the area where they came from. Mrs. Coffin never really did take to our community. Some said she jest couldn’t stand bein’ away from her twin sister. After they lost their little girl—remember the sickly little one?—well, after they lost her, Mrs. Coffin insisted they go on back to their home. Some new people on their land now. Called the Kentworths. Not friendly folk at all. All the neighbors have tried to git acquainted an’ have been told not to bother. People say thet he’s a lawbreaker an’ jest doesn’t want folks snoopin’ round. Thet’s what he calls it when anyone comes visitin’—snoopin’ round. She’s ’most as bitter and disagreeable as he is, so fer the time we jest have to sit tight an’ pray fer ’em and watch fer a chance to show our carin’. Must be awful to live with such inner bitterness.”

  Missie nodded her head thoughtfully in agreement.

  Marty went on, “Most of the other neighbors are the same as before, I guess. The Grahams are as dear friends as ever. Sally Anne has three girls, ’most growed up now.

  “Tommie’s Fran jest had a baby boy. He’s six years younger than Tom, Junior, the boy who had been the baby fer a good while. Tom is thrilled with the new little fella.”

  “And the Marshalls? How are they doing?”

  “It’s sad,” Marty answered, “sad to see the Marshalls an’ their son, but it’s beautiful, too. There is so much love there. Rett is a very loving child. He’s a young man really, but he is still a child. Wanda and Cam really love ’im. He is so good with animals thet it’s ’most uncanny. Wild or tame—they all seem to understand and trust Rett.”

  “And Wanda’s happy?”

  “Happy? Yah, she’s happy. She needs to rely on her God daily, though. She has her hard times, but I’m sure she wouldn’t be tradin’ her boy fer all the boys in town.”

  Missie shook her head as she thought of the grief Wanda had carried. “She has suffered so much,” she said softly.

  “Yah,” acknowledged Marty, “she has suffered—suffered and growed. Sometimes it seems to take the one to bring the other.”

  “When one does suffer, it is good to see that it hasn’t been wasted—that the sufferer allows God to make it a blessing rather than a bitterness,” Missie observed.

  Marty nodded and then went on. “Wanda and Ma Graham both sent their love. They sent some small gifts to ya, too. We have some packages from them in the trunk. Pa and I decided the things we brought with us would jest wait until tomorra.

  No sense rushin’ into everythin’ tonight.”

  “Now that you’ve mentioned gifts, I’m not sure I can wait till morning,” Missie laughed. “Kind of like teasing a body—”

  “They’ll keep,” Marty assured her, thinking Missie was still curious and excited about things just like old times at home. “We didn’t want to come rushin’ in here handin’ out goodies right an’ left. You might have understood, but Nathan and Josiah might be thinkin’ thet’s all grandparents are fer.”

  Missie laughed. “I’m thinking my sons have you both sorted out already. They seem to know right off that you’re here just to spoil them.”

  “We’ll have to be careful, but it sure’d be easy to spoil a bit, all right. Clae’s girl, Esther Sue, and Nandry’s four shore think thet we are there jest to humor them. ’Course they like attention from their uncles, as well. Arnie does most of the fussin’. Arnie really loves young’uns. The others all love the little ones, too, but it is Arnie who never seems to tire of ’em, though he pretends he does.”

  “And Joe still hasn’t gone off to seminary? Has he changed his mind?”

  “Oh no. He’s as set on it as ever. I’m hopin’ he’ll be able to go next year.”

  “Oh, it’s so good to catch up a bit! Makes me feel closer to them somehow. I’ve missed them all so much.”

  Marty’s eyes filled with tears. “An’ we’ve missed you. Missie, you’ll never know how many—” She shook her head and stopped short. “No, I won’t say it. I’m here now with you. I see ya have a lovely home, two beautiful boys, thet you’re happy. I’ve told the Lord so many times thet if He’d jest give me this special treat, I’d thank Him with great thankfulness. Now I’m here an’ I’m gonna keep my promise. I am thankful, Missie—so very thankful.” Tears finally spilled down Marty’s face, and Missie went to kneel before her and put her arms around her.

  “Oh, Mama,” she said, tears shining in her own eyes, “I’ve longed for you so often. I promised the Lord that I’d be content with seeing you, too. And here I’ve already been upset because you can’t stay longer. I’m ashamed of myself. We’ll just make every minute we have together count. We’ll fill our time with so much happiness that we’ll have barrels of memories to keep us when the time comes that we need to part again.”

  Marty smoothed Missie’s hair. “Thet sounds like a grand idea,” she said. “I’ve tucked away a few of these precious memories already.”

  Missie stood up. “Well,” she said, “let’s just get on with another one. Willie has developed a real liking for popcorn before bed, so let’s go pop some. He says there just isn’t anything better than to have a close family chat over popcorn. It’s warm, and homey, and filling.” Missie laughed and led the way to the big kitchen. “I always feel like a little girl sneaking in where her mama
doesn’t want her when I do this. Wong is so fussy. But I always clean up very carefully.” Mother and daughter laughed together.

  The popcorn was soon ready, and Clark and Willie were called to join them in the living room. The visiting continued, as Willie and Missie asked all about the neighbors, the school, the church. Fighting emotion, Willie wanted to know how his pa, Zeke LaHaye, really was doing. The occasional letter somehow didn’t seem to tell the whole story.

  “I think a trip on out here would do him a world of good,” Clark commented. “He needs to get a fresh outlook on things. Oh, he still loves his farm, but yer brother has ’most taken over now. Zeke loves his grandkids, too, but he still misses yer ma somethin’ awful. He sent a little parcel along with us.”

  “All of this talk of parcels and presents from back home— and they plan to make us wait until morning!” Missie obviously could hold back her frustration no longer. “How can a body sleep tonight not knowing what’s in the trunk?”

  After some laughter and teasing, it was decided that the trunk and its contents would be brought in and distributed before retiring.

  After the trunk was placed in the room and the straps removed, Missie dove in with a will, laying to one side those things intended for the children. She squealed and cried by turn, enjoying every item that had come with love from those “back home.”

  “We’ll have Nandry’s raspberry preserves for breakfast,” she declared, holding up a sparkling jar.

  The hour was late when they finally cleared up the clutter and said good-night with hugs all around.

  Marty went to bed with an overflowing heart. Her prayers truly had been answered—and now she finally felt she could sleep for a solid week.

  The next day even Marty was coaxed up on horseback in order to be given a tour of the ranch. She enjoyed the tiny flowers that nobly bloomed beside the trail, she thrilled to the sight of Willie’s herds of cattle feeding on the hillsides, and she loved the placid mountains lined up against the sky in the distance. But she did not enjoy the wind sweeping across the prairie, pulling at her hair and skirt, nor the miles and miles of seeming emptiness. Marty watched Missie carefully as they rode together, and she could see in Missie’s face that all she saw now was Willie’s land as she had grown to love it.