“What are you making?”
Adam paused, looking at the wood in his hand and what he wanted it to be. “It’s going to be a cradle for our baby.”
Millie stopped knitting and just stared at the wood in Adam’s hands. He couldn’t read her facial expression. “A cradle?”
Adam went back to whittling, trying to make this a normal conversation. Wanting this to be a normal moment in their lives. “Yes. The baby will need a place to sleep, and I figured I better get started before I run out of time.”
Millie still wasn’t knitting. “Isn’t that a lot of work?”
“Not too much, not really.”
Millie set the knitting down altogether in her lap. “The baby could just sleep in a drawer. Maybe a basket? The mothers I knew in Saint Louis did that a lot.”
Her words made it sound like she didn’t want the cradle, but Adam would have had to be blind to miss the yearning in her eyes. Why the contradiction? He wasn’t surprised to be confused by this woman yet again. “I want to do this.”
Millie abruptly moved her head, looking at his face instead of the piece of wood he was holding. “Did you make one for Caty and Genie?”
Adam smiled, remembering. “I did.”
“You made them each a cradle or one cradle that both of them used?”
Adam had no idea where she was going with this, but he was glad she was talking. “I made the cradle before Caty was born and then we used it again for Genie.”
“We could use that one for this baby.”
Adam set the wood down, still thinking about the past. This time, the memories were not ones he wanted to savor. “We can’t. We don’t have it anymore.”
“You don’t? What happened to it?”
Adam wanted to lie, say that it had gotten damaged accidentally or that they’d given it away to a neighbor. But he couldn’t let himself do that, even if it did feel like the easy solution for right now. He was in this for the rest of his life. Hopefully for several decades. Eventually, the children would grow up. Move out. Start their own lives. And he and Millie would still be married. They needed honesty to build a strong marriage. Adam looked at the floor. He would tell Millie as much as he could.
“After my first wife died, I was upset. I destroyed a lot of things that made me think of her. Including the cradle. Actually, all of the baby things.” He kept his gaze on the floor, looking at the marks on his work boots. “It was a rash thing to do. But I did.”
He breathed in deeply and sat up in his chair. Picked back up the wood and considered what it would become. Not to the baby, but to him. It would become a lot. “Even if it hadn’t, though, I would want to make a new cradle. It’s important to me, Millie.”
“Why?”
“I am going to be this baby’s father from the moment he or she is born. I am. I want to be. But the truth is that I am not the father who created this child. That is not going to be a secret. So, I will have a child that I love, a child who will probably one day wonder if I love him or her the same as I love Caty and Genie. I want to make sure this new child knows that the answer is yes.” Adam looked at the wood and saw the spindles he would create. Imagined the base that would rock his child. Soothe his child. Protect his child. “Please let me do this. It’s important to me.”
Millie picked up her knitting. The clicking of needle against needle started back up. “Okay. Thank you, Adam. A cradle would be lovely.”
Chapter Nine
To Do:
Plan another trip to town with Edith
Start canning fruits and vegetables
Make Caty a new dress
Make Genie new pants
Make something for Adam?
Millie unrolled the cradle spindles that Adam had wrapped up in a heavy cloth. Set them out on the table. Picked one up and stared at it with almost wonder. Adam had taken blocks of rough wood and made them into gleaming vines. Had spent hours and hours and hours using his knife to make tiny little cuts. Small actions that somehow transformed ordinary wood into something so beautiful it took Millie’s breath away.
In the last month, Adam had completed twenty spindles, ten for each side. He’d started the headboard piece a couple of days ago. It still mainly looked like an ordinary piece of wood to Millie but she knew that Adam saw something special underneath. He’d told Millie that he did not create so much as uncover what was already there.
Even if he wanted to make a cradle for their baby, he didn’t have to do this. He could have made a basic cradle. Something simple. It would have still been something that he made, but it wouldn’t have taken all of this time or all of this effort.
This cradle wasn’t just a place for their baby to sleep. This cradle was pure love, and not just for the baby. It was for her, too. There was no way for Millie to look at these pieces of wood and not feel like she was important. Like she was worth something.
She’d written this cradle down in her gratitude list every single day since Adam had first walked in the door with his tools. It was more than the structure. It was the time. Millie counted the time when Adam worked on the cradle as the best part of the day.
Some days he came home right after lunch, and other days he didn’t get home until suppertime. It didn’t matter. He walked in the door, usually covered in dirt. Usually drenched with sweat. But after he came in and spent time with his children, he then sat down and worked on the cradle.
If he wasn’t home when she put the children down for their nap, she spent the time knitting. And listening for the sound of Adam’s horse coming in from the fields.
Once he was there, once she wasn’t trying to listen to every sound in anticipation for his arrival, then she did any number of chores from her list while he worked. Sometimes she cooked supper. Mended clothes. Churned butter. It didn’t matter what she did, really. Millie just liked being in the same room as Adam. Liked talking with him about his day. Liked it even when they didn’t talk at all.
Millie ran her fingers over the spindles one last time and then put them back. She’d just put the kids down for their nap, and Adam could be home at any time. She sat down in her chair, pulled out her knitting and waited. This piece was a scarf for Caty. Millie planned to give it to her for Christmas. The yarn was bright red and soft.
It had been hard to get the yarn home and work it up without Caty finding it, but she had. Millie just knew that Caty was going to love it. She could wear it when winter came in with its snow and wind. It would be something to keep her warm, and remind her that she was loved.
In a way, Millie understood perfectly what Adam was doing with this cradle. She was doing the same thing with yarn. She wanted Genie and Caty to know that she loved them. That she would be with them always. She could have made Caty ten scarves in the time it took to make this one. But, she didn’t want Caty to just have any scarf. She wanted her to have this scarf.
Millie was working the hardest part of the cable pattern when she paused to listen. That was definitely the horse. Adam was home. She continued knitting until she got to a good stopping point. Millie had just marked her place when Adam came inside.
“Hi, Millie. I’m sure glad to come in the shade.”
“I’m sure you are. The sun dried my laundry in about an hour yesterday.”
“It’s a cooker, that’s for sure. I’m going to go wash my face real quick, and then I plan to steal a slice of that pie you made yesterday. I’ve been dreaming about it since I went to bed last night but I thought you’d frown at me if I ate pie instead of your eggs this morning.”
“I’m not sure eating pie for breakfast is the example we want to set for the kids. Genie will know. Even if he never hears or sees you, he will know you ate pie for breakfast. Then, he will demand the same.”
Adam chuckled as he walked into his bedroom. “Little terror.”
Pleasure rose up Millie’s throat, coming out of her mouth as a laugh. “If I had known you like pie this much, I would have made it before.” Her garden was doing well, and this week’s bounty had included strawberries. Lots and lots of strawberries. That, combined with the blackberries and raspberries Adam brought home from the bushes lining one of the fields, left Millie with more berries than she knew what to do with.
So, she’d decided to make pie. She’d been married for three months at this point, but had somehow never made pie. She’d made cake the first week she was here and everyone ate it. Millie was afraid to make something Adam or the children would dislike, so she had stuck to cake.
But berries had been covering every surface of Millie’s counters and all she could think about was pie. She had made jelly. Jams. And if only to get her mouth to stop watering, she had made pie.
The pie was an overwhelming success. Millie was pleased as punch and a bit chagrined with herself. Would she have spent the next 50 years never making pie because she did not know for sure that her family would like it?
She might have. But the berries had pushed her in a different direction. Adam had remarked more than once that he had never seen so many berries come in at the same time, especially with the dry soil. Millie’s current theory was that God had forced her into making pie. And thank You, Lord, for that. And the lesson. I’m paying attention, even if I am a slow learner.
Adam groaned again. “I don’t care how far I have to go or how much they cost, I’m buying you more berries when these run out. And we’re planting more next year. In fact, I am only planting berries. I’ll be the worst farmer but the happiest pie-eating man in the world. You watch and see.”
“You’re good for my ego, Adam Beale. But I bet you’ll be sick of pie by the end of the week.”
“I won’t. I’m going to sit down and cry like a baby when this pie is gone. I might even throw myself on the ground and kick my feet. I need to watch Genie the next time he’s in a temper tantrum mood and take notes. Gotta make sure I get it right.”
Millie just shook her head and put away her knitting. Christmas was months away but Caty and Genie were growing right now. They both needed new clothes, sooner rather than later. Millie got the pants she had already cut out and went back to the rocking chair with her sewing box to stitch the seams together. “I can’t believe these pants are for Genie. The legs look so long in them.”
Adam looked, shaking his head. “I think he’s going to catch up to Caty before we know it. I sometimes wonder how that one child can eat so much. The answer is in the inch he seems to gain each day.”
Adam groaned again, only this time it was a pained sound, like Adam had hurt himself. “What happened? Did you cut yourself?” Millie was up and on her way to look when Adam answered, his voice as serious as it could be.
“My pie is gone.”
She stopped and crossed her arms. “Adam Beale, you are ridiculous.”
He looked at her with a solemn face but twinkling eyes. “I take my pie very seriously, Millie.”
She shook her head in mock exasperation and sat back down. She couldn’t believe he was acting this way over a little pie. And she wished she had made it the first week they’d been married. It would have probably made things easier for them both.
His empty plate put away, Adam sat back down and pulled the headboard to him. He just sat for a few minutes, simply looking. Still.
“Is it not going okay?” she asked.
“Oh no, there’s nothing wrong. I’m just listening.”
“Um, Adam, how much sun did you get today?”
He smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “I’m perfectly sane. I have an idea of what I want this to look like when I’m done, and I’m checking to make sure it agrees with the plan.”
“You’ll, uh, let me know if it starts actually talking to you, right?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
They both worked quietly for a bit after that. Millie practically basked in the silence. These sounds were now normal. Expected. There weren’t any problems that needed to be talked through. Millie didn’t feel like she was going to say or do something wrong. They just were...together.
Oh, yes. This was the most perfect Millie’s life had ever been. Thank You, Lord. I’m afraid that this will all fall apart, but I’m trying to focus on the good. And right now in this room is the good. Even if it all ends, I will have the memory of this moment. These last weeks. Thank You, thank You, thank You.
“I have a question for you.”
She looked up, curious instead of terrified. Progress indeed. “What?”
“I thought you would maybe like to come out to the fields with me. See what I do all day. Understand why I love it.” A pause. “I’d like to share that with you.”
Adam had carefully and patiently shown Millie how all aspects of the house worked. But, the farm and ranch parts were still a mystery to her. “What about the kids?”
“They can come, too. They’ll be able to run around and play. I’m sure Genie will find something he can bang together.”
“I’d like to go, then. Thank you for asking me.” She smiled, relishing the way she felt free to tease this man. “Although, considering how often you’ve been looking for ways to come inside this week to get out of the heat, I can’t say I’m excited about your timing. Could I learn about farming in the fall?”
Adam didn’t respond to her teasing tone. He smiled, but Millie felt her heart constrict at the look on his face. “Sadly, we probably have to go this week or next. I don’t think the crops are going to make it much past that point.”
Millie didn’t know if Adam kept talking after that. Her vision blurred and her ears were ringing. Her body forced her to suck in a deep breath, and spots joined the blur in her eyes. Millie was jerked out of her stupor when the baby moved with such force that Millie thought she might fall out of the chair. Her panic was not making the baby happy.
Millie sat there with both hands on her stomach, trying to soothe the child with a low murmur. “Mama’s sorry, darling. It’s going to be okay.” Millie continued to massage her stomach, thankful it was working to calm the baby down. She looked up from her stomach when Adam’s hands joined hers, comforting the child she carried. She just looked at him, crouched there in front of her. Regret on his face.
Millie thought about how perfect the past weeks had been. They had been everything she’d ever wished for as a child. The crops were dying out there and her being upset would not change that. All she could control was how she dealt with the situation, and whether she let her fear tear her happiness in her family apart. So, she could have dead crops and have a family life like she had always dreamed of or she could have dead crops and a dead family life. When she thought about it like that, it was not a hard choice at all.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset. I guess I’d started to get so used to being happy that I didn’t remember to worry so much about the drought. I have really enjoyed our time together the past few weeks. I want that to continue. I want that kind of home for our children to grow up in.” Millie forced truth to come from her lips. “I want that kind of home for me.”
“Me too. I’m sorry I sprung that on you, but I do want you to come and see the crops. See what I do. I’m sad about the crops, but I don’t have regrets. I don’t. The farm is a form of beauty to me, and I want to share it with you.”
Millie didn’t want to do it. But, she also didn’t want to let Adam down. “Okay. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Adam nod
ded. He moved to sit back down in his own chair, and Millie tried not to miss the weight of his hands. He looked down at the wood he’d picked back up. Then at her. “Millie?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
* * *
Adam sat at the table, watching his children finish eating breakfast and just taking in the general atmosphere of chaos that was present whenever his family gathered together. It was noisy, messy. Really, really noisy. And incredibly messy.
And wonderful. Adam had always loved his family. He’d always loved this house. He’d always loved good food.
But the combination of all three was amazing in a way that he couldn’t explain. When Adam had decided to marry Millie, he’d told himself he was doing the best he could for his children and it would be enough. Secretly, Adam had been almost smug. Look what a good thing he was doing.
Adam watched Genie whisper into Millie’s ear, getting eggs all over her face where his hands were wrapped around her neck. He had been a fool, believing he was the generous one in the equation. He’d never realized just how much more he’d receive. That vision of the best he could do for his family was a farce. He had congratulated himself on finding a caretaker for his children, but God had seen beyond that. Given them more than they deserved. His children did not have a caretaker. They had a mother.
Adam was pleased to the depths of his gut to be so very, very wrong. Wrong about what life with Millie could be. And wrong about what couldn’t be fixed. Adam had spent hours on his knees last night, thinking he had ruined it with his clumsy mouth. Had scoured his Bible this morning for some way to take last night back. To have told Millie about the dying crops in a gentler way. But the solution didn’t come from him or his efforts. Millie came out from behind that closed door this morning, eyes red from crying, and she had acted normally. Excited about the day, even though she was probably dreading it. She had fixed it. Not him. Grace and forgiveness tasted like pie this morning.
They finished breakfast, and Adam cleaned up the kitchen while Millie cleaned up Genie. He had the easier task. Done, they left for the fields.
Family of Convenience Page 11
