A Love Transformed

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A Love Transformed Page 11

by Tracie Peterson


  He heaved a sigh and stared up at the dark ceiling. The house was so very quiet. He thought of Clara just down the hall. He longed to go to her and apologize. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and kiss her lips. They’d only ever kissed once, and that had been when he’d proposed and Clara had accepted.

  The thought was bittersweet. They had been so young and full of life. Curtis’s mother and father had been alive and loved Clara as much as he did. They had even talked of Clara and Curtis living with them after they married. Their house in town was large enough to hold them, since Curtis’s older brothers had long ago married and moved away. Curtis had been certain of life then, but now he was certain of nothing.

  He tried to pray, but the anger and frustration acted as a barrier between him and the Lord. Curtis knew that until he let that go—until he gave all of his rage and disappointment over to God, nothing would ever be good.

  “But it’s hard not to be angry, Lord. It’s hard not to feel cheated out of all the things a man could want. Hard too to see how you could do anything positive—anything good with this new situation. I always thought that being a believer would mean things would go . . . well . . . maybe not perfect, but surely not this bad.”

  A Bible verse in Job—one he’d memorized in childhood—came to mind. In spite of himself Curtis had to smile. It seemed God had a sense of humor.

  “‘Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble.’”

  He’d definitely been full of trouble. His pain had caused him to make bad decisions and seek out people who were damaged and dangerous. He’d yielded his good sense over to actions that hurt others and put him behind bars, where he deserved to be.

  He felt some of the fight leave him as another verse came to mind. This one from Psalm 9. “‘The LORD also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.’”

  The Scripture comforted him, and a few of the bricks in his wall fell. Curtis drew in a deep breath. “I know you’re with me, Lord. I know you have never left me, but sometimes that just makes it all the harder to understand. I prayed for protection—for strength to do what I needed to do in order to be the man you wanted me to be, and yet here I lie.”

  Hasn’t God protected you—given you strength? Hasn’t He made provision for all of your needs—given you people to take care of you and to love you?

  Curtis closed his eyes, and all he saw was Clara. Had God truly sent her back to him? Why now after all these years? Why now with his future so uncertain?

  12

  These buttons are hard to do,” Hunter complained as Clara stood watching.

  “I know they are, but it’s important you be able to dress yourself. You can always ask for help if you first try and can’t make it work. However, you must first try.” She smiled at him, then looked to Maddy, who was working on her shoes.

  Clara knew this new life of doing for themselves was something they weren’t accustomed to, but the sooner all of them learned their place and what was expected of them the better. Aunt Madeline and Uncle Paul were extremely busy, and it wouldn’t do to add to their workload.

  That was why this morning Clara had made certain to get up early. She’d awakened at five-thirty with the skies already growing lighter by the minute. Now it was nearly six-fifteen. They’d have to hurry if they were going to be of any use to Madeline.

  Once the children were dressed, Clara showed them how to make their beds and put their nightclothes away. They thought it rather novel, but Clara knew that would pass soon enough. They made their way to the kitchen, where Clara’s aunt was just putting something into the oven.

  “Good morning, Auntie Madeline,” Hunter said. “We’ve come to help.”

  Madeline straightened and gave a smile. “Well, I can see that, and I’m mighty grateful you did, Hunter. Uncle Paul will be back in just a moment, and then you can help him bring in more firewood.”

  “What can we do to help?” Clara asked, looking at Maddy and then returning her gaze to her aunt.

  “Do you still remember how to gather eggs?”

  Clara smiled. “Of course I do. Where’s the basket?”

  Her aunt went to a door on the far side of the kitchen. This had once been nothing more than a canning room pantry, but Madeline had already told Clara about the way her Uncle Paul had expanded the room to include space for the hand-agitated washer complete with wringer and a few lines to hang clothes when the weather was too bad to hang them outside. She had promised to show Clara how to use the washer later that day or the next.

  Madeline returned with two baskets. One large and one small. She gave them over to Maddy and Clara. “There should be quite a few eggs to gather. I’ve been giving the chickens plenty to eat. There are a couple of brooders out there, so don’t bother them. After all, we want a batch or two of baby chicks, don’t we, Maddy?”

  The little girl nodded just as Paul came through the back door with two large pails of water. “Well, here are my girls all together.”

  “I’m here too,” Hunter protested.

  Paul put down the pails and eyed Hunter. “You know, Clara, we’re gonna have to get that boy some long trousers—made out of canvas. Otherwise, he’ll be tearing holes in those fancy britches he has now.”

  Clara nodded. She didn’t want to say anything about Hunter not needing them if they left the area. Still, if they went to Bismarck, he’d need them there as well. “I had thought about that.”

  “I’ve got some good material we can use and make him a pair or two to get him through. It’s sturdy cloth and will serve the purpose. After that we can order some from Sears and Roebuck,” Madeline offered.

  “Good enough,” Paul replied. He looked at Hunter. “You going to help me with chores today?”

  “Yes, sir. Mama said on a ranch everybody has to earn their keep.”

  Paul laughed. “She’s right about that. Come on with me. Now that I’ve brought your auntie some water, she’s gonna want more firewood so she can heat it up.”

  Hunter left with Paul, while Clara motioned Maddy to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you where the chicken coop is.” She glanced at her aunt. “Unless you’ve moved it.”

  This caused Madeline to laugh. “Not much has moved around here in the last thirty years. Besides, I showed Maddy the chickens yesterday. I’m sure she knows her way.” Madeline reached over and took up a mason jar of oats. “Sprinkle these out in the yard for the chickens. They’ll leave their nests quick enough and give you very little trouble. Oh, and you can just leave the gate open. I’m sure once they finish off the oats, they’ll be anxious to roam around the new grass and look for things to eat.”

  Clara nodded, taking the jar. Maddy made a beeline for the chicken yard. On the way she caught sight of Hunter with an armload of split logs. It did her heart good to see them learning to have responsibilities. She had never wanted them to grow up spoiled like so many socialite children. She wanted her children to know how to do things for themselves.

  They opened the gate to find quite a few of the chickens already roaming the yard. The rooster flew up to the top fence post and gave a loud, clear crow.

  Maddy giggled. “Auntie Madeline says he likes to make sure everybody knows he’s the boss.”

  “I’m sure he does. Did she also tell you that roosters can be pretty mean?”

  Maddy nodded, growing serious. “She showed me his spurs and told me they were sharp and could cut me, but she also said that usually he didn’t bother anybody unless they bothered him.”

  They went into the coop and began gathering eggs from the individual boxes. Her aunt had certainly been right about the number of eggs. Clara counted at least fifty-two by the time they finished.

  Maddy pointed to several boxes toward the back. “That’s where the brooders are.”

  Clara nodded. “It’ll be fun when the baby chicks hatch. I remember how much I used to love that.”

  “Auntie Madeline said some of them could get killed for
meat.” Maddy frowned. “But she told me that I shouldn’t be sad. She said that’s the way it is on a ranch.”

  “Yes. Some animals are used for their meat and some for other things. The sheep are good for providing wool and meat, just as the chickens give us eggs and meat. Isn’t it amazing how God created them that way?”

  Her daughter nodded and followed Clara back to the house. By now the hens had spread out and were busy pecking and scratching the ground in search of something else to eat. Clara’s own stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d eaten very little the night before. In her turmoil food hadn’t appealed.

  “Well, there you are. Just in time. I’ve been frying up the bacon and was just about ready for the eggs.”

  “I think we counted fifty-two,” Clara said, putting her basket up on the counter. She then turned and took Maddy’s basket.

  “That’s just fine. I’m just going to scramble up all but a dozen and then we’ll share them with the boys working the sheep. The rest of the eggs we’ll use for some cakes.”

  “How’s it going with the lambs?”

  “Very nearly done with the lambing, only a few left. We expect the last of them to drop today or tonight.” Madeline motioned to a large bowl. “How about you girls wash off the eggs and put them in that bowl?”

  “We’d be happy to, wouldn’t we, Maddy?”

  The little girl nodded. Clara went to the sink and put in the plug before pouring in a little water. Together she and Maddy washed off the eggs and carefully transferred them to the large piece of crockery. There wasn’t room for all of them, but very nearly.

  Madeline pulled another bowl from the cupboard. “Would you like to help me crack open the eggs, Maddy?”

  She nodded, her eyes wide. Madeline showed her how to crack the egg and then open it to let the inside spill into the bowl. Maddy tried several times but always seemed to press too hard, making the shell shatter. Clara smiled, remembering her first time at cracking eggs. As she recalled, her situation had been even harder because they were separating out the whites for meringue.

  “I thought it might be good to let the children watch Uncle Paul brand the new lambs and dock their tails.” Madeline made quick work of the eggs, then reached for a whisk. “That is if you don’t think it too upsetting. I figure the sooner the better in getting used to how things work on a ranch. Especially if you’re going to stick around.”

  Clara looked away so her aunt couldn’t see her frown. She hadn’t had a chance to discuss the future. “I don’t mind at all. I trust you and Uncle Paul to help them understand.”

  “Good. After breakfast we’ll take the children out with us.”

  Her aunt was true to her word. Once breakfast was completed, she had Paul take Maddy and Hunter while she helped Clara with the cleanup.

  “Come on you two,” Paul said, reaching out to take each child in hand. “I’ve got a couple of bums that need your help.”

  “What are bums?” Hunter asked.

  “Lambs that don’t have a mama to take care of them.”

  “But why don’t they have a mama?” Maddy questioned.

  “Well, in this case I have two ewes—that’s mama sheep—and they each had two babies.”

  “Twins, like us?” Hunter seemed delighted at this news.

  Paul nodded. “Yup, just like you and Maddy. Only problem is that the mama sheep is young and these are her first babies, so she won’t be able to take care of both. That’s where you and Maddy come in. We’ll let you two feed and take care of these little lambs.” He winked at Clara. “Your mama used to take care of bums for us.”

  Hunter looked at his mother with an expression of admiration. “Truly?”

  Clara remembered those times quite well. “I did, indeed. You’re going to have a lot of fun, but it’s also a lot of work.”

  Paul pushed them toward the door. “So we’d best get to it.”

  It pained Clara to remember those times. Memories used to be such dear friends when she was alone in New York. Now they threatened to torment and torture what little peace of mind she had.

  “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Madeline began. “Care to talk to me about it?”

  Clara started to say no, but then she realized how much she wanted her aunt’s counsel. “Curtis doesn’t love me anymore.”

  “He said that, did he?”

  Clara nodded and gathered up the last of the silverware. “He did. He told me our promises and feelings were just those of children. But I don’t feel that way, and it really hurts to know he does.”

  “Why do you suppose he said that?” Madeline moved to the stove to retrieve a large pot of hot water. She poured it into the sink and added some soap.

  “I guess so that I would stop caring about him.” Clara couldn’t imagine why he felt that way.

  Madeline nodded. “He’s got a lot of worries about the future. Doc didn’t know exactly how bad his injuries were and told him he might never walk again. Or at least it might take a long while to regain his full abilities. Curtis is pretty frustrated by that. He doesn’t want to be a burden.”

  “I don’t want to be one either.”

  “And you suppose you are?”

  Clara shrugged and put the silverware into the hot soapy water. “I don’t intend to be. In fact, I’ve been trying to figure out what I should do.”

  Madeline looked at her oddly. “About what?”

  “About where the children and I will live and how I’ll provide for them.”

  “You’ll live here with us, of course. We have more than enough room and work to go around. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “I can’t stay here and see Curtis every day and know that I feel something for him that he no longer feels for me. It would just be too hard.”

  Madeline turned with hands on her hips. “Clara, you can’t believe that he no longer loves you.”

  “But he told me that. He was quite serious.”

  “Of course he was serious,” Madeline countered. “You surprised him. He had no idea he would ever see you again, let alone that you still loved him and were available to him again. It was a shock to him all around.”

  “I can understand that it was a surprise, but why tell me he doesn’t care for me anymore?” Clara bit her lip and fought back tears. She didn’t want to break down again.

  Madeline stopped what she was doing and dried her hands on her apron. She took hold of Clara’s shoulders. “A lot of water has gone under the bridge since you were here fourteen years ago. It’s not my place to give you all the details of Curtis’s life, but it hasn’t been easy, and I know he regrets not only losing you, but making some bad choices as well. If I were to venture a guess, I’d say he no longer feels worthy of you.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. I have my regrets as well, and I haven’t always made good choices, but I still love him.”

  “Clara, give him time. Let him heal and see what the doctor says. A man doesn’t feel like a man when he’s bound to a bed. Don’t run away. If you love him—take a stand and fight for your future together.”

  “But I’m not sure how, and I don’t even know if I can bear to see him again.”

  Madeline let go her hold and turned back to the sink. “Well, you’re going to have to see him again. I’ve got my work cut out for me. Your uncle and I thought we were going to have to hire someone to come care for Curtis while we sheared the sheep. However, I know that your heart is to ease my worries and burdens, so I figure you can nurse Curtis in my absence.”

  Clara’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  Madeline smiled. “You’re a bright girl. You’ll figure it out.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Tomorrow’s the Sabbath. Joe is going to sit with Curtis while we go to church. When we get home I’m going to show you all that you’ll need to know to take care of Curtis while we’re away.”

  13

  Church services were muc
h as Clara had remembered, although this morning they arrived late and sat at the back of the church instead of the front as they had when Clara was a girl. The same man, Uncle Paul’s dear friend Judge Walker, led the congregation in song, and then the same Pastor Cosgrove she’d heard as a child gave the sermon on trusting and obeying the Lord. Clara had to admit it pricked her conscience. She had done nothing but contemplate her aunt’s comments since yesterday, and now it seemed the sermon tied right in. The key to happiness, Pastor Cosgrove ensured, was in four simple things. Seeking God. Knowing God. Obeying God. Trusting God.

  The service concluded with a hymn that had been chosen for its title: “Trust and Obey.” Clara momentarily wondered if the pastor and her aunt had somehow coordinated the topic to make her feel guilty. Clara was more than a little aware that perhaps God had brought her here not for herself, but for Curtis. He needed her.

  She considered this as she sang the final stanza. “Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet, or we’ll walk by His side in the way. What He says we will do, where He sends we will go. Never fear, only trust and obey. Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.”

  The music concluded and they were dismissed. To Clara’s surprise they were suddenly in the midst of a crowd. Maddy and Hunter moved to stand closer to her.

  “Clara! I thought that was you. Whatever are you doing back here?” a petite blond-haired woman asked.

  “Sue? Sue Smith?”

  “It’s Kaul now. I married Steve. Remember him?”

  Clara nodded and smiled. “I guess I didn’t realize you had stayed in the area.” Just then an older woman joined Sue. Clara immediately recognized her as Betty Smith, Sue’s mother.

  “Mrs. Smith, how nice to see you again.” Clara remembered the children. “These are my little ones, Hunter and Maddy.”

  “Twins?” Sue asked.

  “Yes. Just as their father was.”

 

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