“Let me guess,” Sep said. “I’ll get to do all the work while you stand around and pretend to be doing something.”
Dave hid his snicker. That was exactly a move Joel would make. Growing up, Joel had done everything possible to get out of farm work. There were times when their parents wondered if he’d ever find a job he could devote himself to.
“I’ll help,” Tony volunteered.
Everyone turned their gazes to him.
Tony picked up another piece of fried chicken and scanned the table. “I like working outdoors.”
“But you’re volunteering for something that’s supposed to be a punishment,” Tom said.
“It’s not a punishment to me,” Tony replied. “I like the way a stall looks when it’s cleaned out.”
“Sep and I will be happy to have you with us,” Joel said with a satisfied smile. “Anyone else want to join in on the fun?” Since no one else offered to help, he added, “Alright, but you’re going to miss out.”
Dave glanced over at Mary and saw that she was trying not to laugh. He supposed his family did make things interesting. It was nothing like the formal and stiff meals her family had when they were together. He’d rather listen to his family get into petty squabbles any day of the week.
“You know,” Sally began after everyone grew silent, “Maureen and Connie paid Mary a high compliment. They offered to buy her recipe for her apple pie while we were talking about Richard. They’re very picky. The fact that they want her recipe is a big deal.”
“Did you sell it to them?” Richard asked.
“No,” Mary said. “I can’t sell my apple pie recipe. That would give them full rights to it, and I wouldn’t be able to make any more in the future.”
“Why did they want to buy your recipe?” Dave asked in surprise.
“They’re selling foods now,” Mary told him. “Anything on their menu has to be only theirs. Otherwise, they can’t say they own it.”
“I’m glad you told them no.” She loved making those pies. He couldn’t imagine her without an apple pie in hand. Ever since he knew her, she’d prided herself on her ability to make the best apple pies anywhere, and after having eaten other women’s apple pies, he would have to agree with her.
“I’m glad you told them no, too,” Joel said. “These meals wouldn’t be the same without one of your pies. Speaking of which, did you save me a slice since I’m mending your husband’s leg?” He offered her a hopeful smile.
Mary smiled. “I made enough so everyone at this table can have a slice.”
Tom grinned. “That’s why you’re so great, Mary. You think of everyone.”
“I cut up the apples,” Sally said.
Joel glanced at April and rolled his eyes. All about herself, he mouthed to April.
“This is a slow day for you, Joel,” Dave said, deciding to get involved for once. “Usually, you’re picking on Tom.”
Joel’s attention went to Tom then he looked back at Dave. “I keep forgetting he’s there. Tom, you’re being too quiet.”
Tom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Quiet? I’ve been talking during the meal. Amanda, Jessica, and Owen have been quiet this entire time.”
“Really?” Joel scanned the table. “I guess it’s because I’m so used to you saying something stupid that it’s hard to notice when you don’t.”
Tom put his fork down and grabbed a dinner roll when Joel jumped up.
“Before Pa says it, I know. I’m not getting dessert.” Then Joel hurried out of the room.
Tom threw the roll, but he missed Joel.
From the children’s table, the kids started laughing.
“Tom, did you really have to do that?” Dave’s mother asked.
“He started it,” Tom argued.
Sally groaned. “I swear, you two haven’t grown up at all.” Before her parents could say anything, she shot them both a pointed look. “You have to admit that since they have children of their own, they should behave better.”
“Well,” Dave’s pa began, “one would hope so.”
“They almost got through an entire meal without acting up,” Rick told Sally. “That’s progress.”
“Progress?” Sally rolled her eyes. “At this rate, they won’t behave through an entire meal until they’re old enough to have great-grandchildren.”
“Just be glad you don’t live with them anymore,” Richard said.
Since that seemed to put Sally at ease, Dave’s ma stood up. “Mary and Jenny, would you like to help me bring in the pies?”
Mary and Jenny jumped up to do so, and the mood instantly changed to one of anticipation. Dave couldn’t imagine one of the family get-togethers without Mary’s apple pies. Most of the time, he liked Maureen and Connie, but at other times, they found a way to irk him. He hoped they had better sense than to bother Mary about her recipe again.
“Is something bothering you, Dave?” Tom asked.
“I’m fine,” Dave replied.
“You’re not upset Joel showed the children your injured leg, are you?” Richard asked. “You know Joel didn’t mean to embarrass you. He figured now was a good time to check it since we were all together.”
“I’m fine,” Dave replied a second time. “I know the children couldn’t resist coming around to see what was going on.”
“I’m glad I didn’t see it,” Sally said with a shiver. “It was probably disgusting.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Dave told her, “but it’s not something I want to look at for the rest of my life.” Thankfully, he would be fully healed soon. He was looking forward to getting back to doing what he loved, even though he couldn’t get back into the full swing of things as soon as he’d hoped.
His mother, Mary, and Jenny returned with the pies, and soon, everyone’s attention was on dessert.
***
“Can you read me the article again?” Isaac asked three days later.
Dave opened his eyes, unaware he’d drifted off to sleep. With a grimace, he straightened up in the chair. What was it about sitting on the porch for hours at a time that put him to sleep? He blinked and turned his attention to his son who stood beside him with a newspaper in his hands.
Dave’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is that the same article I already read to you five times?”
Isaac nodded and put it on Dave’s lap. He sat in the chair next to him and smiled expectantly. “I’m done with my chores. Ma said I could do whatever I wanted.”
“And you want to hear the same thing you’ve heard a lot of times before?”
“It wasn’t a lot of times. It was only five.”
To Dave, it seemed like reading the same article five times was more than enough for anyone, but as he looked at his son, he realized how much it would mean to him if he did it. Dave picked up the paper and turned the newspaper to the page that featured Richard. “Alright, I’ll read it.”
Isaac perked up, his grin widening.
There simply wasn’t enough to do around here if Isaac considered this exciting. Sure, Dave had enjoyed reading about his brother’s success but not enough to read about it over and over again.
“‘Success stories out on the western frontier aren’t unheard of,’” Dave read. “‘We’ve heard of men striking it rich mining for silver and gold in places like Colorado and California. Businessmen have made their fortunes transporting goods by shipping them along the Missouri River or establishing railways connecting the country from the east to the west. In Omaha, we have seen the rise of some successful entrepreneurs, and one of notable interest is—’”
“Richard Larson,” Isaac filled in for him.
He paused then continued, “‘Richard Larson came to Omaha with his wife, Amanda, exactly twenty years ago with nothing to his name except what he could carry in a small wagon. Richard had a dream of building homes, but, despite the fact that Omaha was expanding, he couldn’t find employment.’”
“So he decided to create his own company and build houses anyway,” Isaac said, wiggling i
n the chair in excitement.
“Well, it doesn’t say that exactly,” Dave began, “but yes, that’s pretty much what he did.”
“How old were you when Uncle Richard started his company?”
“I was twelve.”
“Were you surprised Uncle Richard made a company?”
Dave shrugged. “I didn’t think about it. I was busy helping your grandpa set up his homestead.”
“Are you surprised now that he did it?”
“It’s not something I ever think about.”
“Is it hard to make a company?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”
Isaac didn’t respond to that, so Dave figured Isaac wanted him to get back to the article.
“‘Richard didn’t have the money to get started,’” Dave read. “‘He had to obtain a loan from Wilson Bank. Business was slow at first, and Richard wasn’t sure he was going to make a profit. Few people wanted to take a chance on someone who was unknown to them.’”
“Aunt Amanda said she knew Uncle Richard would make a profit,” Isaac interrupted. “I asked her about it when we were at Grandpa and Grandma’s, and she never doubted that he would be successful. She said that he loved his work too much to fail.”
“Well, it helped that your aunt took care of the ledger and obtained the supplies he needed.” Now, Dave did remember hearing Richard say that had it not been for Amanda, he wouldn’t have been able to get through the first year, but that hadn’t been included in the article. With the way Richard always talked about Amanda, Dave doubted Richard wouldn’t tell the reporter about her contribution. Most likely, the reporter left it out. So few men were willing to offer women the credit due to them.
“Keep on reading,” Isaac said.
Dave’s attention went back to the article. “‘Despite how slow things started out, Richard gained momentum. Ten years after Richard arrived in Omaha, he had built up a reputable business and was among the town’s wealthiest residents, and he continues to be even more successful today. Unlike the other wealthy families, he wasn’t born into money. He worked his way up to it, proving that hard work and determination can yield incredible results. Richard and Amanda have three children: Anthony, Mark, and Annabelle. Anthony and Mark are currently working in the family business.’”
“Why did they call Tony ‘Anthony’?”
“Probably because the newspaper reporter wanted to address your cousin by his formal name. If they were to do an article on me, they would probably refer to me as David.”
“How famous will Uncle Richard be once he’s in the magazine?”
“I don’t know, Isaac. I don’t even read magazines. I have no idea how many people read them. It could be more or less than the newspaper.”
Mary stepped onto the porch with an empty pail in her hand and Rachel following behind her. “Alright, Isaac, your break is over. You need to milk the cow.” She held the pail out to him.
Isaac groaned. “How can my break be over? I just sat down.”
“Mind your ma,” Dave said then ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “She might give you a cookie if you behave.”
Isaac got off the chair and took the pail. “Take care of that article, Pa. I want to hear it again when I get back.”
Dave rolled his eyes as Isaac bounded down the porch steps.
Mary chuckled. “Did he make you read that to him again?”
“Yes,” Dave said, not amused. “I’m happy for Richard, but even I can only take so much of this article.”
“Isaac made me read it to him a few times, too.”
“He did?”
Mary nodded. “He’s thrilled about his uncle.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you need any more water?”
Dave glanced at the glass next to him that was half-full. “No. I’m fine.”
“In that case, I’ll get Adam up from his nap before your parents get here.” She waved for Rachel to follow her into the house.
The two had just entered the house when Dave remembered the newspaper in his lap. Great. There was no way Isaac would forget about it if he could see it. Dave had read it so much that he had half of it memorized. He crossed his arms, leaned his head against the back of the chair, and closed his eyes. In time, Isaac would find something else to focus on, and he hoped it would come sooner, rather than later.
Chapter Eight
“When they say August has the hottest days, they aren’t kidding,” Dave’s pa said as he waved the fan in front of his face. “It doesn’t help that there’s no breeze. Even sitting in the shade on the porch doesn’t help.”
Dave tried not to shift again in the chair even though his leg was itching in the splint. “I’m just looking forward to being out of this splint.”
The first thing he was going to do when he got the thing off was scratch every inch of his leg. Joel had warned him he would start to itch once the healing was almost done, but Dave hadn’t expected it to itch this much. He had trouble sleeping or sitting still. It was hard to concentrate on anything these days. He only had one more week to go. One more week, and he could finally take the thing off for good.
“Well, I have to say you did a great job of keeping that thing on,” his pa said. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to sit around all day. Even if you didn’t run all over the place like Tom and Joel did, you liked to keep busy.”
“Yes, it hasn’t been easy to do nothing. I don’t know how some people do it.”
“Not many people do. Even in New York, people worked from sunup to sundown in the factory. I’d rather be out here than back there. Moving to Omaha was the best decision I ever made.” After a moment, he asked, “Do you miss New York?”
“No. I like it here. I can’t imagine doing anything but farming.” From the moment his family arrived on the homestead, Dave knew he was going to own his own farm someday. It might not have been something Richard, Sally, Jenny, or Joel wanted, but it was something he and Tom enjoyed.
Isaac came running up to the porch and went over to them. His hands were cupped around something. “Guess what I found?”
“A frog?” Dave guessed since that was mostly what Isaac caught.
“No. A bird.” He opened his hands to a wounded bird that chirped.
Dave’s father put the fan down and held out his hands. “Let me see him.”
Isaac gently placed the bird in his hands, and he inspected him. “It looks like he broke his wing.”
“Can you heal him?” Isaac asked.
“I’m sure there’s something I can do.” He stood up. “Dave, you got anything to support a little wing?”
“Check the barn,” Dave replied. “I might have something on the shelf above the barrels.”
“Alright. Let’s go, Isaac.” Dave’s pa headed down the porch steps.
“Be careful with Richie,” Isaac called out after him. “I don’t want him to get any more hurt than he is.”
“Richie?” Dave asked in surprise.
Isaac turned back to Dave. “Sure. I named him after Uncle Richard. He’s going to make something of himself just like Uncle Richard did.”
Before Dave could respond, Isaac was running off for the barn with his grandpa. Dave watched after him in disbelief. Just how long was Isaac going to go on and on about Richard? Ever since the newspaper came out, it seemed that all Isaac wanted to do was talk about his uncle, and now he was naming birds after him.
“Pa, do you want water?”
Dave turned his attention to the front door where Rachel was standing with a glass of water.
“Yes, that would be nice, Rachel.”
She went over to him, her steps careful. She looked very pleased with herself when she didn’t spill any of the water out of the glass. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Dave smiled and then asked, “Why don’t you ask me to read you that article about Uncle Richard?”
“You read it to me already.”
“But don’t you want to hear it
again?”
She shrugged. “No. I remember it.”
Well, at least he had one child who wasn’t so excited about Richard that she couldn’t stop talking about him, let alone naming birds after him. He had no idea if Adam would be as impressed with Richard as Isaac was since Adam was too young to understand what was going on.
“You want a cookie?” Rachel asked. “I helped Ma make them.”
“Sure. I’d love one of your cookies.”
To his surprise, she bolted into the house so fast that he didn’t even have time to blink. Again, he became aware of the itching sensation in his leg and had to resist the urge to scratch it. He gritted his teeth. One week. He only had one week to go. Then the splint would come off, and he could scratch his leg any time he wanted.
Rachel returned with a cookie that had an odd shape to it. “I made this one.”
Dave chuckled and took it from her. “Yes, I can tell.”
“How?”
Deciding not to answer the question, he bit into it. Even if the cookie was an odd shape, it was perfect for eating. “It’s good.”
“Just like Ma’s?”
He thought it over for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, it does taste just like your ma’s cookies.”
Beaming, Rachel hurried back into the house.
Dave wasn’t sure what that was all about, but he finished the cookie and washed it down with the water.
Rachel soon returned with a bowl full of oddly shaped cookies. “These are for you!”
She gave him the bowl and watched him as if she expected him to eat all of them right then and there. He counted the cookies. There were fourteen of them.
“Rachel, if I eat all of these, I won’t have an appetite for supper,” he said.
“That’s fine. I made them. Ma won’t mind.”
He was sure Mary would most definitely mind if he ruined his appetite, even if he did it to please their daughter. After a moment, he said, “I have an idea. Why don’t I take three of them, and you give the others to Grandpa and Isaac? They’re in the barn taking care of a bird, and I bet they’re getting hungry out there. You need to let them know that you can bake cookies as well as Ma can.”
Forever Yours Page 8
