by Linda Ford
Kody wondered how true that was or if Ma maintained her positive attitude out of habit. As he recalled, even when Pa preached every Sunday, the offerings were skimpy. Most people gave in the way of food. He choked back his anger. Ma and Pa were good, kind people. They didn’t deserve this misfortune.
Charlotte put the potatoes on to boil, then quietly went to Kody’s side. “I’d like to bring in my belongings.”
“I’ll help you.” He needed to get his mind on other things besides the unfairness of this situation.
When they reached the horses, Charlotte grabbed his arm and forced him to face her. Tears clung to her eyelashes. Her smile quivered. “What a blessing you returned. See how God works things out? He knew you were needed at home.”
The approval in her voice gave him a warm feeling; the weight of her hand on his arm, the way she touched him without aversion, sent a sudden skitter of pleasure to his heart. But it didn’t change the facts of life.
He looked at her hand on his arm and backed away, forcing her to drop her arm to her side.
He knew he’d embarrassed her, made her think he minded her touching him. It wasn’t the case. If things were different, if he was a different person…But he wasn’t. And he couldn’t change the facts. He didn’t belong in the white world, wasn’t accepted on the reservation. And anyone associated with him would be marked for the same narrow-mindedness. How often had he heard people whisper cruel things about Ma and Pa? Some didn’t even bother lowering their voices.
Charlotte took her things when he handed them to her, but set them on the ground. “I’ll help with the horses.”
He couldn’t be bothered to argue, so she carried the bridles to the garage housing Pa’s old car. At least Pa still had it so he could get out and around. Kody stopped so suddenly Charlotte jolted into his back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Perhaps Pa would never again need the car. Good thing he’d insisted Ma learn to drive, too. Kody took a deep breath. “Why does God allow such things? It just isn’t fair.”
Her eyes grew wide, but he didn’t want to hear any more platitudes. He hurried to hang the saddles before she could come up with any sort of answer.
Chapter Eight
Charlotte followed Kody into the house. “I’m glad you’re staying here for a bit.”
He spun around so fast she stopped. She didn’t much care for the way his eyes flashed, and she fell back a step.
“And why should you be glad?”
His voice had dropped to deeper tones, full of quiet warning, but she didn’t let it stop her from speaking her thoughts.
“It will give you time to reconsider your decision to ride out of Star’s life.” God had provided her another chance to convince him. Perhaps this had been His plan all along, the reason she’d been left by Harry—in order to serve a purpose here. She’d known God had a plan, that He would turn things out for good. And if it helped Star, well, it was quite fine with her.
“You promised you wouldn’t say anything about her.”
“To your parents. Not to you.”
He grunted. “Don’t expect me to be sitting around making small talk.”
“Nope. But surely you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of your company once in a while.” She felt telltale heat race up her cheeks, felt it burn deeper by the sudden awareness she wouldn’t be averse to spending time in his company, and not for the sole purpose of discussing Star. Something about him proved both unsettling and steadying.
He quirked one eyebrow in mocking disbelief. His eyes narrowed as he took in the way her cheeks flared. Then he smiled, the gesture beginning at the corners of his mouth and working upward to his eyes.
At the way he looked at her, the heat in her cheeks spread to her chest, making her heart beat against her ribs in a most alarming way. Something alive, vibrant and vital, passed between them. She didn’t know what to call it—interest, friendship or something exceeding both. She only knew the moment shifted her world, changed the way she looked at life, enticed her toward something new, exciting and deliciously frightening.
And then he grunted. “You are joking, of course.” And he took the last two steps toward the door.
She didn’t move, waiting for dizziness to pass. They’d shared a few special days and she embarrassingly admitted to a growing regard for him, yet he’d dismissed her feelings. Obviously he didn’t return them. Yet how dare he toss her feelings aside as if they had no value? Anger stole past her usual complacent attitude. Why would he be any different from Harry and Nellie, or the Applebys, or Lother? Seems people treated her like a commodity. Use Charlotte or leave her. Whatever suits you.
She closed her eyes. Lord forgive me. I belong to You, not people, no matter what they think. Help me be patient and cooperative. Her anger fled as quickly as it came.
Only when peace settled back into her soul did she follow Kody indoors.
Mrs. Douglas wiped her hands on a worn towel. “The doctor said there’s no reason he shouldn’t do more. But he doesn’t seem to have any interest in anything but lying in bed staring at the ceiling.” She chuckled. “But I think having you here will make him want to get up. He won’t want you to think he’s laid down and quit.”
“Is that what he’s done?”
Mrs. Douglas sighed. “I’ve thought so a few times. I’m so glad God brought you back to us. It’s bound to make a big difference. I think we should persuade him to join us for supper.”
Charlotte understood they spoke of Kody’s father. She hurried to the cupboard and took the towel from Mrs. Douglas. “Let me finish the supper preparations while you and Kody tend to your husband.”
“Thank you, child.”
Kody and his mother left the room, set on stirring Mr. Douglas from his comfortable bed. She smiled, thinking how persuasive Kody could be. Not with sweet talk, but with prodding and badgering. She tried to imagine him sweet-talking her, praising her, appreciating her. She grabbed the edge of the cupboard as an ache as wide as the South Dakota prairie tore through her. Then she pushed the idea from her mind. She wasn’t so needy she hungered for approval from everyone she encountered. She drained the potatoes, mashed them to a creamy texture and spooned them high into the serving bowl, hoping Mrs. Douglas would appreciate her efforts.
She hummed as she worked. What a pleasure to be in a house with water as close as the turn of a tap, with a window overlooking a yard with trees, and filled with a spirit of joy and faith. She took the potatoes to the table. A piece of oilcloth in blue and yellow squares covered the wooden table. Crocheted pads, alternately blue and yellow, covered the seats of the six wooden chairs. Yellow medallions marched in straight lines up the pale-blue wallpaper. Several calendars hung in various places; one had pictures of mountains, another of an English landscape and two showed bright bouquets of flowers. Charlotte smiled, thinking if Nellie had hung such cheery pictures, instead of the stern likeness of her parents and a calendar boasting the latest threshing machine, they might all have benefited.
Charlotte set the bowl in the middle of the table between the platter of thinly sliced roast beef and the divided dish with four kinds of pickles and relish, and thanked God for the bounty.
The trio edged into the room, Mr. Douglas leaning heavily on Kody’s arm. Charlotte hurried to hold a chair for the man. He wore a tan sweater buttoned over a dark blue shirt. His black trousers hung on his tall frame. His thinning white hair had been combed back by either Mrs. Douglas or Kody.
“Thank you, child,” Mrs. Douglas said, breathing heavily as she bent over her husband. “That was a long walk for you. Are you okay?”
Mr. Douglas gave a crooked smile. “I’m fine.” His speech was slurred yet discernible.
Mrs. Douglas sat down. “Let’s pray.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, as the woman folded her hands to say grace.
“Your gifts are so bountiful. My son is back home. My Leland walked to the table. We have a beautiful young woman
to share with, and You have blessed us with plenty of food. My heart is full.” Her voice thickened. “Too full for words,” she whispered. “Amen.”
Charlotte stole a glance at Kody. His eyes narrowed, his expression tightened as if forcing himself to mentally refute the words. He seemed determined to believe God’s love and care did not extend to him. He blamed his race and people’s prejudice, yet how could he deny this outpouring of love from God’s heart through his parents and into his life?
Mrs. Douglas cut her husband’s food into bite-size pieces, then wrapped his fingers around the fork handle and guided it toward the food.
He let his hand fall to the table and looked confused at the idea of feeding himself.
“You can do it, dear,” Mrs. Douglas encouraged.
Her husband mumbled, sounding angry.
Charlotte caught her breath as he tried to capture a piece of meat. She let her lungs exhale when he succeeded in getting the meat into his mouth. His eyes glistened with angry defiance. Charlotte ducked her head to hide her amusement, knowing either anger or determination were healthy emotions to spur the man into fighting his way back from the ravages of his stroke.
Mrs. Douglas faced Kody. “Now tell me what you’ve done since you left home. I want to know everything.”
Kody laughed. “Ma, we only have three hours until dark.”
“Start with the condensed version and fill in the details later.”
“Well, I worked in an irrigation ditch for a season. Didn’t like mucking in the mud. Helped build some roads. The machinery’s too noisy. I helped on a ranch for most of a year. I liked that work the best. But I needed to move on.”
“Where? Where are you going, Kody? What are you looking for you can’t find here where you belong?” Mrs. Douglas asked the questions, but Charlotte saw how Mr. Douglas focused on Kody, waiting for his answers.
“I’m heading for Canada.”
“Why? What’s in Canada?”
Kody’s smile looked strained. “Space, Ma. They say there’s places where a man can live and not see another human being for months.”
Mrs. Douglas shook her head. “Sounds like a lonely place to me. And I know you wouldn’t be happy there. You’ve always been the sort to have lots of friends.”
“Sometimes a man is better off alone.”
Mrs. Douglas put her fork down and reached for Kody’s hand. “We were sorry to hear Winnoa died. I know how that must have hurt. I figured that’s why you disappeared. You needed time to get over that. We understood. But that’s almost four years ago. Surely it’s time to come home.”
Kody shrugged. “I can never come home.”
“Why?” Mrs. Douglas demanded, her voice thin with what Charlotte took for sorrow over her son’s attitude. “What happened to make you change? We have always loved you and still do. You know that.”
Charlotte watched the play of emotions in Kody’s face—the desire to ease his mother’s concern warring against his belief he belonged nowhere. She wanted to shout for him to notice how clearly he belonged here surrounded by his parents’ love.
“Ma, this has nothing to do with you. You and Pa are the best parents anyone could wish for. This is about who I am. I said I’d stay a few days. I’ll fix a few things and then I’m moving on.”
Charlotte ducked her head because she knew Kody might be running from his life, but God had turned him around and brought him back—perhaps to give him a chance to see how much Star needed him, even for him to discover how much he loved the child. It satisfied her to think God might have chosen her to bring Kody back to his family. It almost made it worthwhile to have suffered fear, hunger and thirst, and to endure missing Harry and the family with such an ache.
A draft of loneliness blew through and left her empty and tired. She’d cared for five-year-old Ricky since his birth, reading him stories and playing little games to amuse him when Nellie was occupied. As he grew older she taught him how to tie his shoes, how to build a little farm out of sticks and marbles. And when Mandy came along eighteen months later, she’d done the same for the little girl.
Pain hit her with cruel force. Kody had what she wanted so badly it filled her mouth with a dry, dusty taste. He had love and a home.
She suddenly had difficulty breathing and kept her head down, struggling to control her emotions, grateful the Douglas family focused their attention on Kody.
“Charlotte?” Kody said.
Maybe they weren’t as distracted as she hoped. She sucked in air, slowly filled her lungs, willed herself to cover her emotions with a smile and then she looked up.
“Are you all right?”
The concern in his face caused her smile to slip. Her eyes stung.
“Something’s wrong.”
She shook her head and lifted her hand to indicate she didn’t want to talk about it. She dared not try to speak for fear of losing control.
Mrs. Douglas watched, her face full of concern, which further threatened Charlotte’s self-restraint. She shifted, met Mr. Douglas’s eyes and almost broke down at the compassion in them.
He nodded. “Sad,” he said, as plain as if Kody had said the word. “Why?”
She might have ignored Kody’s questions and sidestepped his mother’s silent ones, but she couldn’t ignore Mr. Douglas’s.
“I miss my brother and his family,” she managed to choke out. It wasn’t the whole source of her sadness, only the beginning of it. Knowing Harry could walk away from her so easily reinforced an idea she’d been fighting since her mother’s death. Harry didn’t really want her, even though she’d done her best to follow Mother’s instructions to be useful. No matter how hard she worked, how quickly she obeyed, how useful she tried to be, she was tolerated rather than welcomed.
Mrs. Douglas reached for her hand. “My dear, forgive me. I’ve been so busy rejoicing over my own blessings, I’ve forgotten your troubles.”
Charlotte managed a shaky smile. “It’s okay. He’s sending for me.” He had to. She had no other home, no other family. She belonged with him, whether tolerated or welcomed.
Mrs. Douglas patted Charlotte’s hand. “Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’m mighty glad for the company.”
There was the word she longed for—welcome. It hurt that it came from a stranger. How could Mrs. Douglas care about her when her only surviving family member so obviously didn’t?
Mrs. Douglas leaned back and smiled at everyone around the table. “I think I owe it to you that Kody has returned. God works in mysterious ways.”
“You and Charlotte both talk the same,” Kody said. “As if bad things are a blessing in disguise.”
Charlotte and Mrs. Douglas exchanged wide smiles. It had been a long time since Charlotte had known the pleasure of a shared faith with an older woman. Not since her mother’s death. The idea of her being a stranger vanished. They were sisters in Christ.
Kody’s mother voiced a thought for both of them. “Sometimes they are.”
Mr. Douglas tried to speak. They waited as he struggled with his words. “God’s ways are always good. We have to believe that.”
“Fine,” Kody said. “God’s ways might be good, but man’s ways leave much to be desired.”
Charlotte ached to point out God’s love wasn’t controlled by man’s actions, but she struggled with sorting out the difference in her own mind and had no words of assurance to offer except those that expressed the faith she clung to. “God uses all things for our good.”
“Amen,” both Kody’s parents said.
The pleasure of their shared faith was a balm to Charlotte’s soul. She wished they would share ways they’d seen God turn things around, knew it would bolster her own struggling faith, but Mr. Douglas tried to push his chair back. “Bed.”
Charlotte filled the basin with hot water and tackled the wall behind the stove. Mrs. Douglas had protested when Charlotte insisted she wanted to work, then confessed she could use help with the spring cleaning.
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“I know it’s long overdue, but somehow I haven’t had the heart to do it.”
Charlotte gladly took on the job. She loved to help, even without Mother’s warning ringing in her ears. There’s nothing harder to tolerate than a homeless relative who contributes nothing. Charlotte figured it applied equally to an uninvited guest.
As she worked, Charlotte listened to the sound of Kody repairing the roof.
He’d begun the job before breakfast as if he couldn’t wait to get done so he could be on his way.
Somehow she had to devise some way to convince him otherwise and learn to deal with being Star’s father. That required a chance to talk to him in private. And she knew he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
She didn’t know how long she had. Perhaps today a letter from Harry had been forwarded to Favor.
But Mrs. Douglas returned from the post office without a letter for Charlotte. Charlotte smiled despite her disappointment. “Maybe tomorrow. In the meantime I have lots to keep me busy.” And something she wanted to accomplish before she left.
By lunchtime, she’d washed the walls in the kitchen. Over the meal of thick, homemade tomato soup and hot biscuits, she said, “If I had a ladder I could wash the ceiling.”
“I’ll get something,” Kody said, and after the meal, brought in a stepladder and set it in place. “Be careful.”
She stared at his back as he retreated. He hadn’t worn his hat since he returned home, and the sun glistened on his hair as he stepped out the door.
His caution was only polite words with no particular significance, yet she couldn’t stop herself from thinking he might care a little about her safety. As she stood on the ladder and scrubbed the smoke and flyspecks off the ceiling, she smiled, remembering how frightened she’d been of him just a few days ago. But he’d proved to be a gentleman, a loving son and a hardworking man.
She paused and looked at her work. She’d missed a spot and she leaned over, grabbing the top of the ladder as she stretched.
“Is this your idea of being careful?”
