by Janette Oke
“When do you plan on going?” asked Missie.
“I’ll be ridin’ into town tomorra to check out the trains,” returned Clark. “No use waitin’ till it gits so hot one can hardly stand the ride. It was pretty uncomfortable at times fer yer ma when we came out last year. Thought it might be a little cooler iffen we go right away.”
Missie was silent.
Marty looked at her daughter and caught her blinking away tears.
“We’ve loved having you,” Missie finally managed. “You know that. I’m so sorry we have to send you back to the rest of the family different than you came, Pa. Hope they won’t hold it against us and the West.”
“Why should they?” asked Clark. “Accidents aren’t confined to one place. Jest before we left home, a neighbor farmer got drug by a team of horses and lost both his legs.”
“Still,” said Missie, “it’s going be a shock for them when they actually see you.”
“I don’t think any of ’em’ll take it too hard,” said Clark comfortably.
“We’re gonna miss ya at the church,” put in Willie. “Can’t believe how much interest there is since we started to have real services.”
“Thet won’t stop,” Clark answered. “Henry is all prepared to give ya Bible lessons jest as I was doin’. He’ll do a fine job. I already wrote to Joe to send Henry out some good books on the Bible fer studyin’. I expect Henry to really git into ’em. He loves studyin’ the Word and will bring to the people everything he can find. I think Henry is gonna make a fine lay preacher.”
“We’re glad for Henry,” Missie said. “He’s been a great help and a good friend ever since we left home.”
“Ya have some very fine neighbors here,” Marty said with feeling. “I’m so relieved, Missie, to know ya have ladies to visit and share with and a good doctor close by so ya won’t need to go way up to Tettsford Junction fer this next little one.”
“So am I,” Missie agreed, reaching out to take Willie’s hand. “That was what I dreaded most ’bout havin’ Nathan an’ Josiah—the long months of bein’ away from Willie.”
“Well, if I’m gonna make thet ride into town tomorra, I guess I should be gittin’ to bed. Thet’s a long way fer a slow rider to be travelin’.” Clark stood and lifted his crutch into position.
“Would ya prefer the team to a saddle horse?” asked Willie.
“Hey, thet sounds like a good idea. Might be I’ll even take young Nathan along with me, if his mother agrees.”
“He’d love to go,” said Missie. “He’s really going to miss you. Both of you. He won’t know what to do with himself when you leave.”
“Won’t be long until Nathan will be needin’ school. I know ya have been teachin’ him yerself, Missie, since ya had trainin’ and some experience with schoolin.’ Will ya keep on with thet?” asked Marty.
“Willie and some of the neighbor men are meeting at Juan’s on Wednesday night. There are several families whose children are much older than Nathan, and they are most anxious to get them some schooling before they’re so old they think they don’t even need school. I love teaching our boys, but I think they will do well in a real school with other children.”
“Glad to hear thet.”
“The church committee is going to tell them they can meet in the church if they want to.”
“Thet’s a good idea,” said Clark with enthusiasm. “I sure hope it all works out fer ’em. Now, we better git. I’ll be by to pick up yer son ’bout eight, if thet’s all right.”
“That’ll be fine. He’ll be up and ready to go. Why don’t you both come on over and have breakfast with us first?”
“Oh no, dear, we don’t want—”
“Ma,” said Missie, “please. There won’t be too many days for us to have a meal together. Let’s make the most of the ones we have left.”
Marty kissed her daughter and agreed on breakfast the next morning.
Clark and Nathan enjoyed a leisurely drive into town. Nathan, curious about everything he heard and saw, kept up an excited stream of questions and comments. Clark realized that the young boy was truly ready for school.
“What ya plannin’ to be when ya grow up, boy?” asked Clark.
“I don’t know, Grandpa. Some days I wanna be a rancher like my pa. An’ sometimes I wanna be a foreman like Scottie, an’ some days I wanna be a cowboy like Lane, but most of all I think I wanna be a cook like Cookie.”
Clark laughed. The ranch was really all the life the boy knew. Clark determined to send Nathan a packet of good books.
“What do you wanna be, Grandpa?”
“Ya mean when I grow up?”
“Yer already growed.”
“Oh yah,” said Clark, “guess I am at that.”
“What ya gonna be?” asked Nathan again.
“Well,” said Clark, “I’m a farmer.”
“What do farmers do?”
“Much like a rancher, only they don’t raise quite so many cows and horses. An’ they might have pigs or sheep or even goats to go with them other animals. An’ they plow fields, an’ pick rock, an’ pull stumps, an’ plant grain thet they harvest every fall. Then they build haystacks and store feed fer their animals to eat in the winter months. And they butcher an’ cure meat, an’ chop wood, an’ doctor sick critters, an’ take in garden vegetables, an’ fix fences.”
“Boy,” said Nathan, “farmers do lotsa stuff, huh, Grandpa?”
“Guess that’s right.”
“Can ya do all thet, Grandpa?”
“Shore. Don’t take nobody special to do all thet.”
“Boy, ya can do lots of things with only one leg, can’t ya, Grandpa?”
“Well, ya see, son, when I was doin’ all those things I still had me two legs. So I been thinkin’ some lately of how I can still do the same things. It’s gonna take some special tools. Ya know the piece of harness I made fer myself so I could balance and still handle the horse an’ the plow?”
Nathan nodded and smiled. “That’s kind of a funny contraption, Grandpa,” he commented, and they both shared a chuckle.
“Well, I plan on makin’ a lot of things like thet,” Clark explained. “I couldn’t start to work on them yet, ’cause they’ve got to be measured jest so, to fit the different things I’ll be usin’—like the plow an’ the rake an’ the seeder. I’m gonna make ’em all when I git home. I got this here idea of how I’ll fix the plow, see …” And Clark commenced to tell Nathan all the details of his idea while the little boy’s eyes opened wide as he listened. The miles melted away as the two worked together on Clark’s plans.
In town Clark discovered that the next available eastbound train was leaving the following Tuesday. He bought their tickets and then took Nathan to the general store for a treat. They also pocketed some sweets for Josiah, then headed the team for home.
The news of the upcoming departure had Marty in a flurry of plans and activities. She was sure she had much to do to prepare for the journey, but when she set about to begin, she found it wasn’t much after all—not nearly what it had been in preparing for their trip west. Now there was only their own luggage to pack, since all the things they had brought with them for Missie and the family would be staying right there. Marty relaxed and enjoyed her last days, spending as much time with the boys as she could.
She cleaned up the tiny soddy and bade it a fond farewell, then moved their things back into Missie’s fine house for the remaining days.
That evening Willie came home from the de la Rosas’ with exciting news. The community had voted to begin the new school in the church building. Henry’s Melinda had been asked to teach. Her close neighbor, Mrs. Netherton, an older woman with no children, had agreed to stay with Melinda’s young son while she was at school. Since Melinda was reluctant to leave her boy too long, the first year of school would be held only for three days a week. Still, the neighborhood agreed that this arrangement was far better than no school at all.
Willie and Missie had decided that
Nathan would be allowed to join the school-bound crowd. Since Melinda would be driving right by their ranch, she had agreed to pick up the young scholar.
As each final day together ticked by, Marty took special note. A little clock ran in her mind: This is our last Friday … our last Saturday … our last service in the little church. That Sunday she prepared for the service with extra care. Clark had already shared with her some of his thoughts on the Scripture portion for the day. Marty felt them to be most appropriate on their last day with this congregation they had learned to love. There was no better message that Clark could leave with them.
When Clark stood before the group on that last Sunday, he read solemnly, yet exultantly, from Jeremiah 9:23 and 24: “Thus saith the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches: but let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the Lord.” As she listened, Marty prayed for the individuals who sat in the seats around her. Her desire, as well as Clark’s, was that each one of them might deeply understand and live the truth of the Scriptures, and this one in particular.
After the service had ended, Clark invited Henry to speak to the congregation. It was commonly known that when Clark left, Henry would take up the reins of leadership.
With emotion in his voice, Henry expressed his thanks to Clark and Marty for their guidance and encouragement over the months they had been with them, the congregation echoing his appreciation with amens and yeses. Then Clark and Marty, taken completely by surprise, were guests of honor as the whole fellowship gathered around to give them a farewell celebration. Food was spread out on makeshift tables, and the women served the group, then joined the men and children digging in with relish.
Underlying the festivities and laughter was a feeling of sadness since in just two days the Davises would be leaving them. Clark and Marty appreciated each one who came with a special thank-you shining in his or her eyes and warm handshakes and embraces. They were special, these people. They were special because they were Christian brothers and sisters. Clark and Marty were sure they would miss them—not family by blood but by adoption into the family of God.
TWENTY
Homeward Bound
When Tuesday morning arrived, Marty was packed and ready to go. As Willie brought the team around and Missie prepared her sons for the trip to town, Clark went to say a last farewell to the ranch hands, and Marty slipped out of the house and made one last trip to the little soddy. She was not as nostalgic about it for her own sake as for Missie’s. Marty had spent a winter in the soddy by choice. Missie had made it a home because it was all that was available to her.
Marty stood and gazed around the little room once again. In her fancy she could see Missie as a very young bride bending over the tiny stove with its cow-chip fire, preparing the evening meal. In the cradle at the end of the bed would rest their tiny baby, Nathan. Willie would return from his long, hard day of herding cattle to be greeted with love and concern and a simple meal.
Marty could picture, too, the growing Nathan, the Christmas gathering of ranch hands, the visits with new neighbors. Marty would cherish her own mental images of the little soddy. Her own time spent there helped her to more clearly picture Missie in it.
Yes, she and Clark had been happy in the soddy, too. Those long evenings as she sat sewing and Clark pored over his Bible, sharing with her special truths as he found them and inviting her thoughts on particular verses—these were memories to treasure. Perhaps it would be many weeks before she and Clark would have so many hours of each day to cherish as their own without interruption from the daily demands of farm and family. Marty slowly retraced her steps to the house—Missie’s beautiful home. Marty had never seen a home that was more comfortable or more tastefully furnished. She was proud of Missie and her homemaking abilities.
Marty rounded the corner to find they were loading the wagon. She stepped forward to take her place. All the ranch hands who were not on duty were there to shake her hand, and Marty spoke to each of them. Cookie was the last in the line.
The old ranch cook stepped forward, his hand outstretched.
“Cookie,” said Marty, emotion choking her voice, “we are so thankful to God fer yer choosin’ to follow Him. Yer jest special to us in so many ways.”
Cookie changed his mind and gave Marty an affectionate hug instead.
Lane moved forward and took Clark’s hand. He said nothing, but his eyes said what he could not put into words.
Just as the wagon was about to move out of the yard, Wong came running, waving a bundle in his hands. Some fresh doughnuts, a treat for the trip, he said. Marty and Clark thanked him warmly, and he beamed as he bobbed his head.
“Much thanks,” he said. “Much thanks for special joy you brought this house and to Wong’s kitchen. Come again, maybe?”
The wagon pulled away amid hat waving and calls, and then they were on their way.
Marty’s view was blurred with tears as she looked back from the hillside where she’d had her first look at Missie’s home. So much had happened there to endear so many people to her heart.
Josiah climbed on her lap, and she held him close all the way to town. Nathan chattered excitedly, voicing his perspective that Grandma and Grandpa were privileged indeed to be passengers on a real moving train.
“An’ someday I’m gonna come all the way on the train to the farm an’ see ya,” he promised fervently.
And Josiah echoed, “See ya.”
“Yeah,” said Nathan, “me and Joey. We’ll come an’ see ya.”
“That would be most wonderful,” said Marty and held her Joey even closer.
When they reached the town, Clark checked their trunk through, and they gathered their hand baggage and went to get a cup of coffee while they waited for the train.
It was hard to know what should be said in their last few minutes together. It seemed like there was still so much left to be said, in spite of the fact they had spent all these months talking.
They filled the time with small talk and reminders of messages for each one of the family on the farm.
It was nearly time to get back to the station when Scottie appeared.
“I wasn’t able to see ya off at the house,” he said, extending his hand to Clark, “but I shore didn’t want to miss sayin’ goodbye. Guess I needn’t say thet we’re gonna miss ya round the spread. S’pose now I’ll have to mend my own halters and clean my own barns.”
Clark smiled. He didn’t feel he had helped Scottie out that much, but he knew what he had done had been appreciated. He shook Scottie’s hand firmly. “Ya’ll always have a warm spot in our hearts an’ prayers,” he told the ranch foreman, and Scottie smiled.
They walked slowly to the train station. Already the train was sending up great puffs of smoke as the firebox was filled in preparation for the departure. Long cars were filled with bawling steers, and Marty knew they would share the ride with many cattle heading for market. She wondered if some of Willie’s herd might even be on board.
It was time for the last tearful good-bye.
“Pa,” said Missie, her voice choked, “do you think you could ship out some apple cuttings by train? I’ve been missing those trees an awful lot.”
Clark was thoughtful, not sure that apple trees would grow in the area, but he nodded his head. “Why not?” he said. “It’s shore worth a try. Ya can plant them down by yer spring an’ make sure they git plenty of water. Might not produce too much fruit, but ya might git enough fer a pie or two.”
Missie laughed through her tears. “Truth is,” she stated, “I won’t even care too much if I don’t get fruit. It’s the blossoms I miss the most. It seems to me they promise spring, and love, and happiness every time they appear.”
Clark gave his daughter a long understanding hug.
; They all embraced one last time and told one another again how much the visit had meant to each of them. Marty and Clark held their two grandsons for as long as they dared, and then the “all aboard” was called and they waved one last time and climbed onto the train.
Marty waved until the train turned a curve and the town and her family were left behind. She wiped her tears on her handkerchief and resolved that she would cry no more.
The traveling days moved by, measured by the rhythms of the steel wheels. Each revolution took them farther away from Willie and Missie but closer to the other members of their family.
Marty didn’t find the return trip quite so difficult, nor so uncomfortably warm. Maybe now she knew what to expect and set her mind accordingly.
There were a few stops at small towns here and there— some taking far too long—but then they traveled on again, day and night. On the third day, they pulled into the town where they had switched trains on their westward journey. Again it meant an overnight stay. Clark and Marty both remembered the dirty little hotel and its bedbugs.
“Surely we can do better than thet,” Clark assured Marty and made some discreet inquiries. They were pointed to the home of an elderly lady who, they were told, kept roomers on occasion. Fortunately, the woman had a vacancy and accepted them as overnight guests.
By the time they made their way back to the station the next morning, shoppers were beginning to appear on the streets. The town was again awakening as it had done the year before.
When they reached the train station, Clark held the door for Marty and she passed through and headed for some seats near the window. She would sit and wait while Clark checked out the departure time.
Clark walked closely behind her to settle the luggage he carried down beside her before going over to the ticket counter. Other passengers milled about the room.
Marty heard the loud voice of a youngster. “Ma, look— look at thet poor man.”
Marty’s head came up slowly and she looked around, wondering who the unfortunate person might be. She spotted no one who fit the description.
