Maggie's Strength

by Kimberly Grist

  His fist opened and closed at the sound of Maggie’s laughter. Leo placed his hands on her waist and swung her effortlessly onto the seat of the buckboard. B.J. reached for the chain to his pocket watch and opened the cover. A raven-haired woman with azure eyes stared back at him. Her full lips formed in a tight smile.

  He ran his finger along the tintype containing the face of the woman of his dreams. He had courted Claire for more than a year and planned to bring her home as his wife. When he broke the news of his mother’s declining health and the need to return home to assist his father, he thought she would understand. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  His fiancée had tossed her head and dismissed him as though he was someone of no importance. “If you think I’m moving to some frontier town, you’re sadly mistaken. I thought you understood what I required in a husband.”

  The rattling of the wagon interrupted his thoughts. His eyes drifted to the backs of Leo and Maggie until they disappeared. He snapped the watch closed.

  Chapter 7

  B.J. slipped into the back pew closest to the open door in the hopes of taking advantage of the cool breeze. The room was crowded and already warm. Hand-held fans swayed back and forth in rhythm with the rise and fall of the pastor’s voice.

  His mouth twitched as numerous ladybugs flew back and forth, searching for places to rest on the clapboard walls. For a moment he was reminded of his childhood and the many spring Sunday mornings he and his friends sat in this church, mesmerized by the red-spotted insects who merrily flew around, oblivious to the fact they were distracting both children and adults.

  The pastor patted his well-worn Bible. “According to the book of Samuel in chapter nine, the donkeys belonging to Saul’s father were lost. Nobody likes to lose their livestock.” He shook his head. “I’ll go a step further and say losing anything is frustrating.”

  Pastor Nelson’s eyes twinkled. “Reminds me of a joke. I heard about a man who purchased a donkey from a preacher who trained the beast to respond to certain commands. If he wanted him to go, he said, ‘Hallelujah,’ and the command for stop was ‘Amen.’

  “The man was pleased with his purchase and went out for a ride through the mountains. As he headed towards a cliff, the new owner struggled to remember the command to make the animal halt. Finally, he recalled the proper term and yelled, ‘Amen.’ As promised, the donkey stopped. Relieved the man cried ‘Hallelujah.’” Pastor Nelson laughed at his own joke, and the congregation joined in.

  “Now let me get back to the sermon.” The pastor motioned toward the congregation. “Imagine a tall fellow like our brother Deputy Weaver is sent to find something valuable.” The congregation chuckled. B.J. scowled as he caught Maggie gaze at the man beside her.

  “Like any good investigator, he begins close to home, then expands his search outside the district,” the pastor continued. “After a while, Saul is frustrated and ready to give up his search. Anyone in here ever feel that way? Perhaps right this minute you’re disappointed by unmet hopes and dreams.”

  B.J.’s back straightened. Pastor Nelson had an uncanny way of delivering a sermon as though designed with him in mind. Based on the stillness of the room and attentive faces, others agreed. A snoring sound caught his attention. One of the deacons sitting next to him did not concur.

  The pastor pushed his glasses to the end of his nose and read, “Now the Lord had told Samuel in his ear a day before Saul came, saying, ‘tomorrow about this time I will send thee a man out of the land of Benjamin, and thou shalt anoint him to be captain over my people Israel, that he may save my people out of the hand of the Philistines: for I have looked upon my people, because their cry is come unto me.’

  “How about that? God preordained a meeting with Saul and the prophet Samuel and used missing donkeys to accomplish his purpose.” Pastor Nelson chuckled. “Poor ole Saul had no idea what God had in mind, and he was simply looking for his family’s missing livestock. However, he was about to be selected to lead the nation of Israel, an answer to a national prayer.”

  He surveyed the congregation and paused. “What’s troubling you this morning? I imagine many of us have lost donkeys or at the very least have some burs under our saddles. Saul’s frustration was for a purpose greater than he could see or imagine. Don’t miss the point. God’s at work in your inconveniences, disappointments and setbacks. He’s working in the timing of the events and people around you. His plans are way bigger and better than yours.”

  B.J. let out a heavy sigh and bowed his head.

  ~

  Maggie positioned the platter of fried chicken on the dining table covered in a lace tablecloth and set with plates painted with a display of geranium plants, rimmed with gold. B.J. offered a half smile. “I see Mother has deemed it appropriate to bring out her fancy dishes. What are we celebrating?”

  “The safe return of our son and your mother’s improved health.” Dr. Benton smiled and squeezed his wife’s hand. “Maggie even made us another cake. Chocolate this time.”

  B.J. swallowed as he took note of the misty eyes of both his parents. I know I’ve done the right thing in coming home. “Lord, even though this isn’t how I planned it, help me to be receptive to your will.” He glanced at Maggie, her lashes lowered, and took a seat.

  His father cleared his throat and bowed his head. “Lord, we are so thankful for your provision. Thank you for good friends who support us, for Bea’s recovery and the safe return of our son. Our hearts are full. Amen.” He glanced up. “This smells heavenly.” His father took a deep breath and passed the breadbasket. “How was Sunday school, Maggie?”

  “I enjoyed helping Lois and Emma with the girls’ lesson. The pastor told us ahead of time what the text of the sermon was going to be. He wanted us to acquaint the children with the Bible story in the hopes it would help them follow along during the church service. Although Pastor Nelson did a better job explaining things than I did. I’m afraid I lost control as soon as I read the first verse.” Maggie passed the serving bowl of vegetables.

  “I’m sure you did fine, dear. I know how the little girls at church look up to you and your friends. You ladies are a wonderful example.” Mrs. Doc helped herself to a large portion of green beans. “What was the scripture reference?”

  Maggie’s mouth twitched. “I Samuel, Chapter 9:3, ‘And the asses of Kish, Saul's father, were lost.’”

  “I suppose you should be thankful you were teaching girls and not boys.” B.J. patted his stomach and laughed. “I can imagine how their class must have reacted.”

  Maggie giggled. “Thank goodness I only had three little girls. I don’t know what I would have done with a larger group.”

  “Want me to put a bug in the pastor’s ear, Maggie? Maybe we can get him to preach on something simple like making a joyful noise unto the Lord.” Dr. Benton chuckled.

  “The pastor has a way of preaching that is simple yet profound.” B.J’s fingers brushed Maggie’s as she passed the platter of chicken. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. He met her gaze. “I especially enjoyed when he spoke about God’s perfect timing.”

  Chapter 8

  Maggie was surprised when B.J. offered to help with the dishes. She washed a plate and passed it to him to dry, shivering as his fingers brushed hers.

  “There’s something I need to speak with you about, to apologize for.” His Adam’s apple jumped, and he swallowed hard. “Mother told me about what happened with the neighbor’s cat and the damage to your sketches and note cards. I’m afraid their destruction is my fault.”

  “How could that possibly be your fault?” Maggie glanced up at him. The afternoon sun shone through the window highlighting B.J.’s dark hair and brought out rich tones of mahogany. She glanced down at the dishwater and scrubbed the last pan.

  “The office was busy, so father and I took lunch at different times. As I was eating my sandwich, I noticed the sketchbook, and without thinking, I picked it up and opened it. Your drawings captivated me. Not only were they b
eautiful, but the details as well as the dimensions reminded me of architectural diagrams. I meant to put things away and apologize to you later for invading your privacy.”

  He took the pan from her hand and wiped it with the dish towel. His eyes darkened and the golden tones reminded her of the color of walnuts. Why does the man have to be so handsome? “If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have minded. Leo and I swap ideas and drawings all the time. He’s got some wonderful furniture concepts combining wood and iron.”

  B.J. nodded. “Leo is a man of many talents. Have you two been courting long?”

  Maggie’s feet shuffled. She picked up a dishcloth and wiped her hands. “Leo is a good friend. We’re not courting.”

  “Hm, he certainly seems attentive.” B.J. studied Maggie’s face. “Maybe he just hasn’t got his nerve up to ask you yet.”

  “I don’t believe that’s it. We enjoy a lot of the same things, but I would know if he had a romantic interest in me.” She lifted her chin. “At least, I hope I would.”

  B.J. glanced at her mouth, then cleared his throat. “As I was saying, there was an emergency, and I left to assist my father in setting Mr. Fuller’s leg. I’d forgotten all about it until Mother mentioned it this morning.” B.J.’s face reddened. “You have an exceptional talent. I feel terrible that I’m the cause of the destruction of your work. Is there anything I can do to help you recreate the drawings that were damaged?”

  “With my drawings, no.” Maggie frowned. “Some of my sketches are mere outlines of ideas and still need work. Others have more detail, such as the gate with the angel design. I’m thankful that one wasn’t damaged.”

  Maggie glanced toward the wooden box on the worktable. “But I could use some help with the note cards that were ruined. Mama knows so much about herbs and what to use for certain purposes. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to write everything down for me. Your father added notes as well.”

  B.J.’s forehead furrowed. “My father added remarks?”

  Maggie nodded. “Yes, I was going to ask him specifically about some of the teas. I know which ones benefit your mother, and I can recreate those myself. But there are others I’m less familiar with and will have to start from scratch. For example, willow bark, which is for all sorts of things from fever to pain.”

  “I didn’t realize you consulted with my father.” B.J. nodded toward the box. “He’s seen all of your note cards?”

  “Not all of them.” Maggie offered a slow smile. “Although he keeps telling me he’s determined to find my recipe for apple cake. I assured him it was a family secret.”

  He chuckled. “If it’s truly confidential, you’d best not keep it in that box.” B.J. nodded toward the worktable. “There’s no telling what types of unsavory people and animals are hanging around to get their hands or paws on it.”

  Maggie laughed. “It’s not a secret. But even if it was, Mama wouldn’t mind me sharing it with your family. We’ve all become such good friends this past year.”

  B.J. reached for the dishtowel. His hand lingered on hers. “I’m grateful for the attention and the love you’ve given both my parents. I’m embarrassed to admit when my father wrote to tell me you’d moved in to help take care of Mother, I had reservations. I see now how wrong I was to be concerned. You’re an extraordinary woman.”

  Maggie pulled her hand away. “There’s nothing special about me, Dr. Benton.”

  “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but I find you captivating and would like for us to be friends. Do you mind if I call you by your first name?”

  Maggie felt her heart pound. Get a hold of yourself. Why would a handsome young doctor be interested in me? He’s just thankful for my help with his family. She glanced at the gold chain attached with a T-bar to his vest that contained his pocket watch and a tintype of his fiancée. She’d certainly seen him gaze at the image of the beautiful young woman often enough over the last few days. “I’m not sure that would be appropriate, Dr. Benton.”

  B.J. rubbed his chin. “You don’t strike me as the type to be so formal. Are you angry with me about the damage I caused to your work?”

  Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it. She shook her head. “No, of course not. It was an accident.”

  “If that’s true, then I insist you call me B.J. and I’d like to call you Maggie.” He reached for her hand and positioned it between both of his.

  Chapter 9

  The next several weeks fell into a pattern. Maggie continued to support Mrs. Doc and prepare meals for the Benton family during the day. In the evenings, she worked on reconstructing her damaged note cards with B.J., then he walked her home. She slid the last card in her apron pocket and rose to her feet. It would be dark soon, and she should make her way home.

  The back door creaked and B.J. appeared carrying his doctor’s bag. Dark shadows showed under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow covered his jaw. “You’re still here. I was afraid I’d miss you.”

  “Goodness, you look tired. Did everything go alright?” Maggie’s hand went to her stomach.

  He nodded. “Mrs. O’Connor gave birth to a healthy baby boy.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Maggie beamed. “Are you hungry? I kept the chicken and dumplings warm in case you hadn’t eaten.”

  “Thanks. I’m starving.” B.J. took off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair, then moved to the kitchen sink and worked the pump. A flood of water flowed, and B.J. scrubbed his hands.

  Maggie filled a bowl with stew and placed a basket of biscuits on the table. B.J. pulled up a chair. “Can you sit with me for a few minutes? Then I’ll walk you home.”

  “Of course.” Maggie poured sweet tea in two glasses. Her mouth twitched as she watched B.J. devour a biscuit. She lightly tapped the monogrammed box. “I’m down to the last note card, then my collection will be complete again. Would you like some more chicken and dumplings? There’s plenty.”

  He nodded. “I feel like I inhaled the first bowl. But yes, I would like another helping if it’s not too much trouble.” B.J. traced his finger along the large letters E.A.M. on the box. “Did you tell me this container once belonged to your mother or was it a grandmother?”

  “My adopted mother, Tennessee, found it in a trunk that belonged to my real parents.” Maggie refilled the bowl with stew and sat down. “It contains a collection of my mother’s recipes, and Mama and I’ve added to it over the years.”

  B.J.’s eyes widened. “I hope none of your…” He cleared his throat. “…real mother’s notes were damaged?”

  Maggie shook her head and opened the box. “They didn’t spill out.”

  “Thank the Lord. I feel awful as it is.” B.J. lowered his eyes. “I’m surprised you even speak to me. My first day home I knocked you on the floor with the door, then I invaded your privacy and ultimately destroyed your property.”

  “You’ve been busy.” Maggie bit her lip to hide her mirth.

  “I’m really sorry.” His pupils enlarged as he met her gaze. “As I learn more about you each day, I’m convinced you are the most remarkable woman of my acquaintance.”

  Maggie felt her cheeks burn. She watched B.J. run his finger along the carved initials. “Do you know anything about her?”

  Maggie swallowed. “Her maiden name was Elizabeth Ann Magdalene. My name given at birth was Magdalene Elizabeth McCollough. The Montgomery family took me in when I was four after my parents and brother died during a measle outbreak.”

  “Is it hard for you to talk about?” B.J.’s voice soothed her.

  “No. I have little memory of any of it. My parents would be happy to know they left me in the care of such a loving family—that gives me comfort. Not to mention my four older brothers and sister doted on me. Adopting me was such a sacrificial thing to do. The Montgomerys already had six children of their own.”

  “Malachi would have been just a baby at that time?” B.J. reached for her hand.

  Maggie nodded. “Mama thought he would be their last child. That’s why Papa
came up with the name Malachi since it’s the last book in the Old Testament.”

  B.J. laughed. “Well, he had the New Testament covered with Michael, Matthew and John-Mark. I suppose it was natural to round things out with Moses and Malachi.”

  “You follow his reasoning then. My older sister Molly was the one that cared for me at first because my adoptive mother, Tennessee, was helping our town doctor nurse the sick. Papa said when he discovered my name started with the letter M, it was God’s way of assuring him I was meant to be part of the Montgomery family.

  “Molly kept me busy helping with Malachi, and then the boys went out of their way to include me in their activities, and it’s been that way ever since. I feel truly blessed.” Maggie enjoyed the feeling of B.J.’s hand holding hers too much. She bit her lip and pulled away. “There’s no need to feel sorry for me.”

  He reached for her hand again. “I don’t feel sorry for you, but my heart aches at the suffering you’ve endured. I can’t imagine the pain of losing someone you love. I saw the fear on James O’Connor’s face today. He was none too happy when I arrived instead of my father. He told me so too. For a moment it made me doubt my ability to deliver a baby.”

  “Hopefully he feels better now that his son is here and well,” she said.

  B.J. leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath. “Most of my work at the hospital was in the specialty of the ear, nose and throat. In all honesty today was the first time I delivered a baby without assistance. Father and I spoke about it before I left. The infant was at least a month early, so I anticipated my visit would be to answer a false alarm.”

  He leaned forward and his eyes searched hers. “We share the same desire to care for others and use whatever is within our arsenal of methods to relieve their pain and promote good health. Just from what little you’ve shared makes me understand why you feel at home working with your father and your brothers. You are the most unique woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”