“You pray, too?” She sounded surprised. “I mean, I know you pray for us before meals, obviously, and in church on Sundays, but you pray other times, too?”
Adam felt the ground steady beneath him. “Yes. I pray a lot. My relationship with the Lord has deepened significantly since my wife died.” Well, that came out wrong. “My first wife, I mean.”
“I know what you meant. I’m kind of the same. I found the church before my first husband died, but my faith has really grown since he passed.”
Adam knew the bones of her story. She hadn’t told him any of it herself, though, either in the letter she had sent him or in the brief conversations they’d had since her arrival. No, the people who had facilitated their marriage had filled Adam in on those details.
Was Millie aware that Adam knew those details? Maybe. But, it still felt too intimate to bring them up. Those weeks after her husband had died must have been terrifying.
“I’m glad. My faith has helped me through a number of hard times. I’m glad yours has done the same for you.”
“It has.” Millie was rocking steadily, looking into the fire. This silence still felt charged, but not so much as before. Progress.
Millie kept rocking, but her hands were fidgeting in her lap, fingers twisting and intertwining. “Will you tell me about drought?”
He managed to stop his head halfway through its rapid jerk in her direction. Her body was screaming that asking the question had been hard and awkward for her and that she feared his reaction—but he could tell that she feared drought more, and wanted answers. It didn’t take a genius to pick up on the fact that Millie worried about the future. A lot. That seemed fairly rational given what she had been through.
Adam had done his best to reassure her that he would take care of her and their family. But, Millie was still visibly concerned about being secure long-term. He understood that, given that she had recently found herself pregnant and homeless. But, it still kind of rankled. Even if he died tomorrow, he wasn’t the type of man to leave his family alone and unprotected. There were provisions in place.
“I’m not sure what you want to know, Millie. I mean, we haven’t been getting enough rain. Without rain, the crops aren’t getting any water. And they need water to grow.”
“So all those crops are going to die? I mean, there’s nothing you can do?”
Adam considered her question. Tried to give it respect and treat it seriously. “I don’t know. I don’t think all the crops will die. I sure hope not. But, when it comes to life in general and farming in particular, nothing is certain.”
“When will you know?”
Adam breathed out long and slow. He’d wanted a conversation and now he was getting one. “There’s not a clear answer to that. We’ve had some rain, so the situation isn’t dire. Just not as much rain as I’d like. The crops are okay for now, but there’s not a lot of margin if that little bit of rain dries up. So, we just have to wait and see.”
Millie looked down at her hands in her lap. She was still rocking. Still twisting her fingers as though she could pull answers or solace or whatever she was looking for there. “What about the cattle? They need water, too. Is this drought bad for them?”
“It’s not ideal, but the cattle can handle the lack of water better than the crops. The ponds haven’t dried up, yet, so that’s good. And, if it comes down to it, like last year, I can sell the nonessential cattle and take the rest to where there is water.”
“That’s what you did last year?”
“Yes. And we were okay.”
“Did you have to use all your savings last year? Like that family that moved away? Do you have any left?”
His savings? Was she that concerned about his ability to provide? Did she really doubt him that much? Adam clenched his jaw so hard it began to ache. What would it take for his wife to simply trust that he could be a good husband and father? He’d been trying so hard, but it still wasn’t enough.
This conversation was a bad idea.
Chapter Five
Option 1: All the crops die. We still have the cattle. Things are lean, but we are fine. We still have shelter and food. But what about next year?
Option 2: The crops die. The cattle die. We use all of Adam’s savings. Things are lean, but we are fine. We still have shelter and food. But what about next year?
Option 3: The crops die. The cattle die. Adam’s savings are not enough and we lose the land. Adam can get a job in the city to support us?
Option 4: The crops die. The cattle die. Adam’s savings are not enough and we lose the land. Adam refuses to move to the city?
Millie usually used the time right after she woke up to map out the day. Today, though, she’d felt compelled to list possible scenarios. That was a mistake. Millie should have stuck to her to-do lists. At least then, she was in charge. She did things and she crossed them off and she went to bed at night knowing she had accomplished something. But, no. She’d had to work through the worst that could happen—and terrify herself in the process.
How did she expect it was going to end? If life had taught Millie one thing, it was that the worst could indeed happen. Their crops were going to die. Millie was going to end up homeless again. Homeless and pregnant and alone. Millie pushed away from the table where she had been writing in her notebook. Moving to her bedroom, she pulled out her suitcase. Placed it on the bed. Opened her chest drawer and grabbed a handful of clothes.
Froze.
What was she doing? Packing? Running away?
Where would she go?
And, what would she end up leaving behind?
Still clutching the clothes in her hand, Millie sank down into her rocking chair. Buried her face into the cloth she was gripping for dear life. Sucked in a shaky breath and pressed against her eyes that suddenly felt like they were on fire.
She could feel the beat of her heart, pounding in her chest. She felt the sting of tears. The tightness of her throat.
Millie felt the distinct swell of her stomach. The movement of life inside, apparently unwilling to sit idly by as Millie panicked.
Hunched almost into a ball as she was, Millie also felt a hardness in her bundle of clothes. She felt through the balled-up material until she found the pouch of beads. She opened the pouch and poured several out onto her hand. Large. Wooden. Painted bright colors. Each one had a hole in the center, perfect for a small child to thread string or yarn through. When the family she’d been staying with after her husband died had learned that Millie was marrying into a family with a little girl, they’d given the beads to Millie. Something she could use as a game with her new daughter.
Caty. Could she really leave that sweet girl? And Genie? Would she be that woman? The one who hurt those children by abandoning them after working so hard to earn their affection and trust? And, what about her own heart? She, well, she loved those children. All of her fears that they would not accept her had been completely unfounded.
They were good children. Ones who craved a mother’s love and attention. They’d soaked every bit of affection that Millie offered. Took it. Were grateful. Reciprocated.
Millie wasn’t mothering them out of a sense of duty. Not anymore. It wasn’t about some kind of mutual agreement with Adam where they each got something out of the deal. No, she enjoyed every minute of being their mother.
She couldn’t leave them. She could not leave at all.
How ironic that Millie had spent hours working out ways to get the children to like her. Had worried. Obsessed. Thought of ways to win them over. Then she met the children and things had gone better than any scenario she’d been able to imagine. And now, the thing she had wanted, a good relationship with the children, was the thing keeping her here with certain failure.
Millie forced her hands to put the beads back inside the pouch. She got up to p
ut the clothes back in the drawer. Running away wasn’t going to solve the problem. Whatever the answer turned out to be, she needed to find it here.
Though, running away seemed like it would be easier in the short term. Adam had not been happy at the end of their conversation last night. In fact, Millie thought last night had been their first fight. She’d known she was treading on shaky ground when she asked about his savings, but she was his wife. Wasn’t she entitled to know? Millie had blindly trusted a man before. Had assumed that getting married would end her lifelong quest for security.
But, it wasn’t the end. In a very real way, it led to Millie being in the most unsecure situation she’d ever had. The only thing worse than being alone on the streets was being alone on the streets while pregnant with a defenseless child. Millie repressed a shudder.
But, leaving now wasn’t the answer. Millie closed the drawer and went to put the suitcase away. There. Like the last five minutes had never happened. Caty and Genie were still sleeping, so no one would ever know that she had almost done the unthinkable.
Millie paused in front of the mirror, but couldn’t quite make eye contact with herself. Sometimes Millie didn’t understand all the bad things that happened to her. Sometimes she thought she maybe deserved them.
No.
That was not God talking. She used to think that, back when she thought she was alone. But, Millie wasn’t alone. Not now and not when she’d realized she was about to be homeless and pregnant. God was with her always. And He loved her.
Not just God, but His people, too. The only place Millie had been homeless and pregnant was in the scenarios in her notebook. In reality, her new friends from the church had not hesitated to help after her first husband’s death, and she had been comfortably settled with the Kellers by the time her home was repossessed. They even went out of their way to make Millie feel like a welcome guest instead of a charitable obligation.
Millie walked over to her Bible and picked it up. Sat back down in her rocking chair and opened the book. She wished for a minute that she was back in the city, back with those church friends. The women had been surprisingly easy to talk to. And safe. Millie knew that whatever she told them wouldn’t be used for gossip.
She’d had so many conversations with those women about faith. About not trying to be in control. About putting her time into prayer instead of worrying.
Millie had never been good at that, but she knew she’d only gotten worse since coming out to Kansas. Her time with the Lord had decreased each morning as her time with her notebook had increased. And as a result, her sense that everything was going to go wrong was spiraling out of control.
Something needed to change. She needed to change.
Millie closed her eyes and held her Bible to her chest. She prayed for the strength to trust the Lord. She prayed for the ability to look around and see the blessings in her life. To see the joy.
Millie opened her eyes and tried to see the world with new eyes. But, it looked the same. This was the hardest part of her new faith. She was truly blind. But, Millie still believed.
Millie set her Bible down and quickly washed her face using the pitcher and bowl on her dresser. She smoothed a hand over her apron. Walking out to the notebook, Millie turned the page and took a second to relish the clean white paper.
Fresh starts abounded in this world. Truly, they did. Millie focused on today and today only. She needed to go through her normal routine of chores and housework. Work in the garden. Play with the children. She could knit during their nap and that would be enough planning for her future for today.
Looking at her to-do list with extreme satisfaction, Millie stood up, ready to begin the day again. She took her Bible to the table and sat back down. Opened it and spent long minutes reading God’s word. As her eyes took in the words, her heart began to take in the peace those words provided. Millie closed the Bible, ready to face whatever might come next.
She got the fire going and made breakfast. Leaving the oatmeal to cook, Millie gathered eggs and milked the cow. She set her bounty down on the kitchen table and took a minute to admire the fruits of her work. She might not be any good at being Adam’s wife, but she had learned to excel at being a farm woman. Adam hadn’t had to help her with the household chores in weeks, and the cow and squawking chickens no longer intimidated her.
“Miyi!” Genie stood in the doorway in his nightshirt, hair sticking up all over the place and grinning like he had just found the most wonderful thing in the world. He came over to Millie and held up his hands. “Up!”
Millie’s pregnancy was advancing, and the bump that had been only slightly noticeable on her wedding day was clearly visible now. It was getting harder to bend down and pick up the little boy, but Millie did it anyway. And, she’d keep doing it until it became physically impossible. Holding this cheerful little boy as he chattered about horsies and blocks was one of the best parts of Millie’s day. A consistent, sure reminder that joy and innocence still existed.
Millie got Genie settled with a bowl of oatmeal and went to wake up Caty. The little girl had both hands tucked up under her head. She was breathing softly and her eyelashes stood out against her pale cheeks. She looked so peaceful. And very much like Adam.
Millie leaned down and brushed a hand down Caty’s back. “Good morning, sweet girl. Are you ready to get up? We’re having oatmeal for breakfast.”
Caty opened her eyes and smiled at Millie. “Good morning, Millie.”
She rolled onto her back and stretched, pushing her arms above her head and reaching out with her hands and feet. Millie smiled as how much she looked like the barn cats that lazed in the sun. She got Caty settled at the table with her own bowl of oatmeal and then opened her notebook to cross off the things she’d done so far.
See? The day was back on track, exactly where it belonged.
Breakfast over, Millie was supposed to move on to the rest of her chores. Her list said so. Her routine said so. Instead, Millie closed her notebook and sat back down at the now cleared-off table. Genie was busy with another epic war between his blocks and wooden animals. Caty had a doll, but she was just watching Millie with those quiet eyes of hers. Lingering off to the side, waiting to be helpful.
Millie pulled the pouch of beads out of her apron pocket. “Can you get my knitting basket and come here, please, Caty-girl?” Once Caty walked over, Millie pulled out the chair right next to her, scooting it to almost touch her chair. Millie poured the beads into a pile on the table, watching Caty climb up and eye them with interest.
“Beads.” Caty said the word quietly, but her interest was clearly turning to excitement.
“Aren’t they pretty? A friend gave them to me, and I’ve been saving them for the perfect project. I think we should make a necklace for you, what do you think?”
Caty grinned and nodded her head fast and hard.
“What color yarn should we use for the string?” Millie pulled several balls of yarn out of the basket and set the various colors on the table next to the beads.
Caty turned the question back on her. “What color do you think we should use?” Caty’s hands were still clasped together in front of her, but Millie could tell she wanted to reach out and touch.
“Oh, I think they’re all pretty. Here. Look at them and tell me which one you want for a necklace.”
Millie pushed the balls of yarn to sit right in front of Caty. The little girl reached out, skimming a finger on top of the rainbow of choices, pausing on the light blue. “I like this one.”
Millie nodded and pulled her scissors out of the basket. “Me, too. I saw that in the store and could not resist the pretty color. Like the sky on a summer day.”
She cut a length of yarn and handed it to Caty. Then they spent the next hour making a beaded necklace, starting over several times until Caty declared the necklace both perfect and done
. Millie tied it around her neck and watched the girl stroke the beads as though she’d been given a treasure.
Millie did open her notebook then.
Buy Caty more beads.
* * *
Adam shut the barn door behind him and looked at the house. It looked so homey, with light shining out through the windows. The curtains were blowing in the breeze and Adam could smell something delicious cooking inside. Maybe Millie’s biscuits, which were quickly becoming Adam’s favorite food.
It looked like a scene from a book Adam had read as a child. One about a happy family and a perfect life. The book had entertained him. It was probably what his own childhood home had looked like from the outside. The reality of this current house, though, made him want to go back in the barn and brush down his horse another time—anything to delay going inside. He and Millie definitely got along better when they were not in the same room. Last night’s fight had echoed through his mind all day.
But, his children were inside that house. He spent so much time in the fields this time of year that each minute with Caty and Genie was precious. And, he was starving. He’d snuck out of the house earlier than normal, and the cold meat and bread he’d eaten for both breakfast and lunch couldn’t compare to Millie’s biscuits with butter slathered all over them dipped into one of her stews or roasts.
As Adam approached the door, he heard feminine laughter inside. He also heard the familiar sounds of Genie playing, yelling and making animal noises. He paused, relishing the sounds. They would probably stop once he opened the door and walked inside.
Adam walked inside the house and saw Millie and Caty on the floor, both playing with her dolls. Genie was next to them, sitting in the middle of a pile of blocks and wooden horses and cows. They all turned and looked at him, and as predicted, the sounds of a happy family ceased.
“Daddy!” Caty and Genie both stood up and ran to him. Millie used a rocking chair to help her get to her feet. Adam wanted to go and help her, but he had an armful of children. And, he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to say she didn’t need his help. Or to question his ability to help her at all.
Family of Convenience Page 6
