by Sherry Kyle
When she married Lars, her time on these rugged hills would come to an end. Was she ready to let go of this life?
“What a wonderful man.” Mama came up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “He’s good for Samuel. And from what you’ve told me about Lars’s cousin Herbert, I suspect Samuel is good for Lars too.”
A knot formed in the pit of Elena’s stomach. Could she marry the shopkeeper for Samuel’s sake? Her brother didn’t have many options when it came to employment or friendship. The storekeeper seemed happy to supply both. But at what cost? Her happiness? She’d always dreamed of marrying for love, something that became more important now that Jonas had returned home.
Elena wrapped her arm around her mother’s waist as the carriage slipped from view. “It will be nice to have you and Papa all to myself tonight.”
“Is there something on your mind?” Mama guided Elena into the house. “You were awfully quiet. I caught Lars glancing your way more than once this afternoon. Like he was waiting for you to say something important.”
The proposal.
She had kept him waiting. Sunday was only two days away. She’d need to muster the courage to give him an answer. “Thinking is all.”
“About what, dear?”
“How much I’m going to miss the farm.”
“A few days in Lars’s grand estate, and you won’t think about dairy cows.”
Or Jonas?
The thought jarred her. Elena reached up and felt the neckline of her dress, touching the silver necklace hidden from view. “I hope you’re right.” She gathered the teacups from the table and brought them to the kitchen sink.
“Don’t tell me you’re having wedding jitters already.” Mama followed her into the kitchen and covered the remaining few biscuits with a cloth. “I wasn’t nervous until my wedding day. Of course, I only moved from one farm to another.”
“Where’s Papa?” Elena couldn’t talk any longer about weddings, Lars, or moving away from the only valley she’d ever known.
“In the barn I’m sure, checking on the calf.”
“Do you mind if I go?”
“Not at all. We’ll have plenty of time to plan your wedding. You go on.” Mama shooed her off.
The minute Elena stepped out on the porch she released a breath. What would it be like to look forward to becoming someone’s wife? It wasn’t like Lars was mean-spirited or unkind. But ever since she was a girl, she had fanciful dreams of marrying Jonas by the creek under the old oak tree. Seeing him again brought those feelings to the surface. Was it true that he planned to marry Yvette? Sabrina’s words replayed in her mind.
She made her way to the barn. Tomorrow, she’d go to the creek in search of Sabrina and Jonas and find out. For tonight, she’d play the part of a soon-to-be bride. She entered the barn in search of Buttercup, the newest member of the farm. Would she hold flowers with the same name for her wedding?
Only time would tell.
Jonas arrived in Harmony Valley before the sun set. He dismounted Shadow and led him to the barn. Doc Christen’s carriage was nowhere in sight. He hoped Mrs. Dahlberg chose another day to go into labor—not that a woman chose such things.
“Jonas, that you?” Gabi’s voice wobbled.
“Yes, it’s me. Over here.” Jonas rubbed down his father’s horse. “How’s Pa?”
“Ma tried to get soup down him this afternoon.” Gabi came up beside him, one hand twirling a wayward strand of hair at the nape of her neck. A sign she was upset. “I’ve milked the cows and fed them corn this afternoon.”
“Thank you. I planned on being home an hour ago, but was held up.”
“Can you come inside the house? Ma’s been pacing the floor and looking out the window.” By the gentleness in Gabi’s eyes, her anger toward him had softened. Either that or she was worried about Pa.
Jonas ran his hand over Shadow’s mane, and then followed his sister into the house.
“There you are.” Ma clutched her hand to her chest. “Is Doc coming?”
“He’s checking on Mrs. Dahlberg, and then promised he’d be here. She’s expecting her fifth child, due any day. But don’t worry, Ma. He’ll come.”
Birthing babies was a delicate process. Did Pa have it in him to hang on? Jonas strode toward the kitchen, grabbed a cup of water, and downed the liquid.
“Pa’s been asking for you. Why don’t you go in and see if he’s awake.” Ma glanced at the clock on the mantel. “He drifted off to sleep an hour ago.”
Jonas brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I’ll check on him.” He searched her eyes. Had he wasted precious time visiting Yvette at the boardinghouse when he should’ve been at his father’s side?
Out his parents’ bedroom window, the sky was lit in hues of orange and red as the sun set behind the hills. Shadows danced on the far wall. His pa lay in the center of the bed with the covers drawn up to his shoulders. The steady rise and fall of his chest brought a small amount of comfort.
Pa turned his head. “My son. For a minute I thought I was dreaming.”
Jonas grabbed the pine chair leaning against the wall and brought it next to the bed. “I’m here.”
Pa coughed. His hand crept to his mouth as his body shook.
Jonas reached for the water pitcher and poured a glass. “Here, drink.” He cupped the back of his father’s head as he lifted the liquid to his mouth.
Water dribbled down his pa’s chin. “You make a terrible nurse,” Pa retorted. It was good to see his father still had a sense of humor.
“Do you want me to fetch Gabrielle?” Jonas dabbed the moisture with the bed sheet.
“No, it’s you I need to talk to.” His father took in a labored breath. “Twenty head is a fine dairy farm. I’ve worked hard to keep this place running so I could provide for my family.” Pa grasped Jonas’s forearm with cold fingers. “Now it’s your turn. Promise me you’ll take care of your ma and sisters.”
Jonas’s insides quivered. If only he’d stuck around here the past two years, he could have handled the biggest part of the work on the farm. If he hadn’t left to pursue his own selfish plans would Pa be healthy today? “Of course I will. But you’re going to get better. Doc’s on his way.” Jonas strained his neck to look outside, but his father’s icy grip brought his attention back to the conversation at hand.
“Promise me one more thing,” Pa continued. “That you’ll marry Yvette.”
Why was his father insistent he marry the brunette? There had to be a reason. Jonas couldn’t wait any longer for it. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed hard. “Why Pa? Why do you want me to marry her?”
Stories from his pa’s childhood floated through Jonas’s mind. Raised by a single mother in the mid 1800s, life was difficult without a father to call his own. “Why me?”
Pa coughed. And coughed again. He doubled over, his breath coming in shallow bursts.
Jonas grabbed for the ceramic water pitcher. Instead of grasping the handle, he knocked the container over. A loud crash bounced off the pine walls as shards sprayed across the wood floor.
For an instant, Jonas froze. Should he pick up the broken pieces or search for water to help his pa?
Gabi appeared in the doorway. “What was that noise?”
“Get water,” Jonas demanded. The click of Gabi’s boots retreated down the hallway. He helped his pa to a sitting position. “Come on Pa, take a deep breath.”
His father’s shoulders heaved upward and then sagged as he exhaled, his breathing coming a little easier. Jonas laid his father back down on the bed.
As he gathered the broken pieces of pottery, Gabi walked in, a cup of cool water in her hands. “Leave it on the nightstand,” Jonas ordered.
His sister didn’t say a word. She set the cup down, gave him a look as cold as the drink, and turned on her heel.
“Rest now, Pa.” Jonas drew the quilt up under his father’s chin.
“Promise me.” He wheezed with every breath.
&nbs
p; “All this talking isn’t good for you—”
“Please, son. Help me to make amends.”
Amends? What had his father done?
“Pa, I don’t understand.”
“Yvette needs you. It’s my fault she’s a widow.”
“What does the situation have to do with you—with me?”
Pa’s breath slowed and came out ragged. “She’d make you a fine wife. Do all you can to help her. I need you to promise me you’ll marry Yvette.”
Could he promise something he didn’t understand? Why was Pa so adamant?
“Please, son.” More coughing wracked his body.
Desperation to help his pa won over. “If it’s within my power, I promise to marry Yvette.” Jonas’s heart sank as the words tumbled from his lips.
“Thank you. I love you, son.” Pa’s eyes closed as he whispered the words.
Jonas stood, walked to the window and shut the curtains. He quietly slipped from the room, his dream of a life with Elena vanishing with the promise. Everything inside him wanted to burst through the door and take back the words, but he couldn’t do it. He’d wait until his pa got well and convince him that Elena was the woman for him.
The sound of horses’ hooves clomped outside. Doc had arrived not a moment too soon.
The night was long. Every couple of hours, Jonas relieved his vigilant mother by sitting at the bedside. Doc continued to listen to his father’s lungs. By the grimace splayed across his face, the diagnosis wasn’t good. As the night wore on, Pa’s lips turned an unsightly shade of blue and every breath was a battle. On the rare moments Pa’s eyes were open, he clutched a fist to his chest, and Jonas’s heart ached in sympathy. Pa was dying. And Jonas couldn’t do anything to stop the inevitable.
“Can I see Pa?” In the doorway, Sabrina perched on her tiptoes, wearing her nightclothes and rubbing sleepy eyes, straining her neck to get a look at her father.
Jonas glanced at his mother. Her stooped shoulders and downcast face said all he felt inside. His little sister wouldn’t have a pa much longer. She deserved to say all she needed to while the man still had life in him.
“Come, Sabrina.”
Shuffling her bare feet, Sabrina walked into the room. With more maturity than Jonas imagined, she climbed onto the bed and rested her head on Pa’s shoulder. “I love you, Pa.” She wrapped her small hand in his. “I’ll always love you.”
As though those were the words he’d been waiting to hear, Pa breathed his last.
Chapter Eight
Elena held a bouquet of wildflowers as she stood next to her mama and papa, farmers and their families, and listened to Paster Nef discuss the afterlife. According to the Bible, Brigitte Bollinger would see her husband again in heaven because of Mr. Bollinger’s belief in Jesus. Jonas and his sisters too. Tears cascaded down Elena’s face. How would the family carry on?
She glanced at Gabrielle and Sabrina. The two girls clung to each other, a solitary white rose in each of their hands.
When Pastor Nef finished his sermon, several farmers lowered the pine box holding Cedric’s remains. Gabrielle knelt down and laid her flower on the casket. She wiped the tears away with her hand. “Bye, Pa,” she whispered before rising and leaning on her ma for support.
Sabrina stepped forward. She dropped her flower, but didn’t move away from the gaping hole. Elena felt the ache in the little girl’s heart. Sabrina was too young to lose her father. Now Jonas would need to fill that role.
Jonas came up beside his sister and wrapped his arm around her. Her body slumped against his side as he drew her close.
“Please join the family at their home for a time of remembering their beloved husband and father.” Pastor Nef raised his hand and gave a benediction. “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face to shine upon you and give you peace. Amen.”
Elena was the last to drop her flowers on top of the pine box before several farmers shoveled dirt over the top.
Her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Elena, dear. Will you come home with me to fetch the cornbread and beans?”
Elena glanced once more at Jonas and his family. She would be there for her childhood friend to help him with the dairy farm—and with his sisters, especially Sabrina. She linked arms with her mother as the crowd dispersed. “Yes, Mama.”
A thought struck her. She wouldn’t be in Harmony much longer. Her heart ached at the realization. How would she help Jonas then?
A half hour later, Elena stood by the fireplace in the Bollingers’ home with a cup of hot tea in her hand. Her parents had headed home to milk the cows. She’d stayed behind with the excuse that she wanted to talk with Sabrina and Gabrielle. More than that, she wanted to have a word with Jonas.
Jonas thanked the remaining farmers and their families for coming. He grabbed his hat from the bench by the door. “I’ll be in the barn.” He tossed his words over his shoulder and disappeared.
Elena came up beside Sabrina, who sat stone-faced in her father’s rocking chair. “Samuel is coming home tomorrow. If you ask him, I bet he’ll catch crawdads at the creek with you.”
“Today was supposed to be different.” Sabrina heaved a sigh. “I was to spend the whole day with Jonas.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “But Pa died.”
Answering tears stung Elena’s eyes, and she knelt down beside the girl’s chair. “After a while, you’ll be happy again. But for now, it’s okay to be sad.” Elena stroked Sabrina’s hair. “You can come by my house any time you’d like. We’ll pick wildflowers or bake a cake.”
“Thanks, Elena. I wish my brother would marry you, and not Yvette.”
This was the second time Sabrina talked of Jonas marrying Yvette. Was the girl making up stories, or could it be true? Elena’s breaths came in rapid succession, as if she’d chased a cow on foot back to pasture. She’d not believe Sabrina’s words until she heard it directly from Jonas’s mouth. “Tell Gabi I’ll be back to help clean the kitchen.”
She slipped out of the house and walked to the barn. Wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she glanced heavenward. The stars were too numerous to count. Did the sky look the same in Cayucos? As of right now, she never wanted to leave this place—or Jonas. But was she wishing on stars?
With determined steps, she opened the barn door and slipped through. The smell of hay, cow manure, and corn assaulted her nostrils. To a person from town, these odors might be pungent, but not to Elena. She couldn’t imagine life without them.
Searching the barn, she found Jonas hunkered atop a small stool, milking a cow by hand. Odd. Jonas’s father had spent a great deal on a fancy milking machine.
“Need help?” Elena stood behind him.
Jonas didn’t take his eyes from the bucket in front of him. “Go home, Elena.” His voice was gruff, cold.
Give him grace. He lost his pa.
“I understand you might want to be alone. But the milking needs to be done.” Elena moved to the cow on his left, placed a stool at a right angle and sat with her head resting against the cow’s flank. She tucked a bucket under the Holstein’s udder, and took a teat in the palm of her hand. Squeezing at the top with her thumb and forefinger, she continued with all her fingers, forcing milk to flow into the pail.
For the next half hour they worked side-by-side milking and feeding the cows. How Elena would love to do chores everyday beside Jonas. She had a feeling he enjoyed it too because every once in a while she caught him glancing her way. But he quickly averted his eyes, and continued with the chores.
Elena picked up a pail of fresh milk.
Jonas took the pail from her. “You’ve done enough.” His sharp tone belied his words.
Wasn’t he grateful for her help? She stepped away from him, her eyes downcast.
“Elena.” His tone softened.
“I know you’re hurt. You must miss your pa terribly.” She wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders.
Jonas lowered the pail into the cooler, ignoring he
r kind words.
She closed the gap between them and placed a friendly kiss on his cheek.
“What was that for?” Despite the sadness in his eyes, a small smile tugged the corners of his mouth.
“I’m glad you’re back home.”
“I almost didn’t make it in time ...”
“But you did. That’s what’s important. And you’re here now.” She placed her hand on his arm.
Something in his eyes told her she’d gone too far—beyond what was appropriate. Was he in love with Yvette?
She quickly removed her hand and turned to leave. Concealed beneath her dress, the locket lay against her skin. Tomorrow was Sunday. She needed to know the truth before she committed her life to Lars.
She twisted on her heel and faced Jonas. “Are you going to marry Yvette?”
Jonas peeled his eyes away from hers. He took off his hat, and ran a hand through his hair. “If she’ll have me.” His voice was low, but spoke volumes.
So it’s true.
A lump formed in her throat and burned its way down to her heart. This time tomorrow, she’d have a fiancé as well—Lars, a man worth having, only not the one of her dreams.
“Good night, Jonas.”
Each step away from the barn brought her closer to reality. She was going to be a shopkeeper’s wife. She’d give Lars her answer.
Tomorrow.
Chapter Nine
“Jonas, wake up!” Sabrina stood over him, tugging the quilt.
A moan escaped his lips, his body refused to move.
“Come on, Jonas, wake up. Elena’s at the door with a mound of biscuits.”
He opened his eyes and sprang from the bed. “Biscuits?”
Sabrina laughed and pointed at his long johns.
“Hey, I’m hungry.” He slipped into his work pants.
“You want to see Elena.” A smile spread across Sabrina’s face.
“What do you know?” He ruffled her hair. “A man’s got to eat if he’s going to work hard.”
“I know plenty. I know you’re going to ask Yvette to marry you. I heard Pa the other night. He wants you to marry the widow lady.”
