Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) (3 page)

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"Fine--now. I don't think it'll be as long this time as with Clare."

"Prob'ly not," Ma responded. She patted Marty's arm. "I'll check on the young'uns and get things ready fer the Doc. Call iffen ya need me."

Marty nodded. "Thank ya," she said; "thank ya fer comin'. I'll be fine."

Time dragged on. Ma came and went, and then Marty was aware that more voices had joined Ma in the kitchen. The words floated on the air toward her, and then Doc was there talking to Ma in low tones and Clark was bending over her, whispering words of assurance.

Marty was hazy after that, until she heard the sharp cry of the newborn; then her senses seemed to clear.

"She's here," she said quietly, and Doc's booming voice answered.

"He's
here. It's another fine son."

"Missie will be disappointed," Marty almost whispered, but Doc heard her.

"No one could be disappointed for long over this boy. He's a dandy," and a few minutes later the new son was placed beside her. In the light of the lamp, Marty could see that he was indeed a dandy; and love for the new wee life beside her spread through her being like a warm electric current.

Then Clark came, beaming as he gazed at his new son, placing a kiss on Marty's hair.

"Another prizewinner, ain't he now?" he said proudly. Marty nodded wearily.

Clark left, soon to return with a sleepy-eyed child in each arm. He bent down.

"Yer new brother," he said. "Look at 'im sleepin' there. Ain't he jest fine?"

Clare just looked big-eyed.

"A boy?" Missie asked, sounding incredulous. "It was s'pose to be a girl. I prayed fer a girl."

"Sometimes," Clark began slowly, "sometimes God knows better than us what is best. He knows thet what we want might not be right fer us now; so, sometimes, 'stead of givin'

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us what we asked Him fer, He sends instead what He knows to be best fer us. Guess this baby boy must be someone special fer God to send him instead."

Missie listened carefully; then a smile spread over her face as the baby stretched and yawned in his sleep.

"He's kinda cute, ain't he?" she whispered. "What we gonna call him, Pa?"

They named the baby Arnold Joseph and called him Little Arnie right from the first.

Clare found him a bit boring, though he would have defended him to the death. Missie fussed and mothered and wondered why she had ever felt that a sister would have been better.

Things settled down again to a routine. The crops and the gardens were planted. And the added housework kept Marty hopping, for the new baby, along with the joy, also brought more work. Marty's days were full indeed--full, but overflowing with happiness.

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Chapter 5

A Visit from Wanda

Spring gave way to summer, and summer turned to fall. Little Arnie grew steadily, firmly establishing his rightful spot in the family.

Crops were harvested. Clark declared that this year's yield was the best ever.

Marty somehow managed to keep up with the produce of her garden. Having Missie's helpful hands to entertain Arnie greatly assisted her in that.

The only sadness that the fall brought was the emptiness of the new school. Over the busy summer months the men had found enough time to shingle the roof, install the windows, and put in the floor. A pot-bellied stove had been ordered and installed and simple desks had been built. The area farmers had each contributed to a pile of cordwood that stood neatly stacked in the yard. A crude shelter for the farm horses and the necessary outbuildings had been erected. Even the chalkboards were hung--but the school stood empty and silent. In spite of the diligent work done by the committee, no teacher had been found.

Marty had let tears fall silently onto her pillow more than one night because of it. It seemed so cruel that they would dream and work so hard to construct the fine little building only to have it stand vacant. Now the talk was of next year, but next year seemed such a long time to wait.

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At the sound of an approaching team, Marty turned from her task of canning. Visitors were all too few and so very welcome. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked out the window to see Clark taking the team from Wanda.

They visited for a few minutes and then Wanda headed for the house. Marty was immediately aware of her vegetable- spattered apron and her work-stained hands. She threw the apron from her quickly and drew a clean one from a drawer, tying it about her as she went to the door, a smile already brightening her face.

She welcomed Wanda with a glad embrace, and both began to chatter in their eagerness for a visit.

"I'm so glad thet ya came. 'Scuse my messy kitchen. Cannin', ya know."

"Don't ya mind. I shouldn't a come at such a busy time, but I just couldn't stay away. I just had to see you, Marty."

"Don't ya ever wait fer a time thet's not busy. My land, seems all the days be busy ones, an' I sure do need me a visit fer a break now an' then."

Marty supposed that she should let Wanda spill her news, but the glow on the face before her prompted her to question further.

"But what's yer news? I can see yer fairly burstin'."

Wanda giggled--at least it was very close to a giggle, almost a girlish giggle, Marty thought. She had never seen Wanda look so happy.

"Oh, Marty!" she said. "That's right, I'm fairly bursting." Then she took a deep breath and rushed on.

"I've just been to see Dr. Watkins. I'm going to have a
baby!"

At Marty's exultant, "Oh, Wanda!" she went on.

"Dr. Watkins says that he sees no reason why I shouldn't be able to keep this one. No reason why it shouldn't live. Cam is so excited--says our son is going to be the handsomest, the strongest, the smartest boy in the whole West."

Wanda giggled again. "And when I asked him, 'What if it were a girl?', he said she would be the prettiest, the sweetest, and the daintiest girl in the whole West. Oh, Marty, I'm so happy that I could just cry." And she did.

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They cried together, unashamed of the tears of joy that trickled down their cheeks, wiping them away with hands that fairly tingled with happiness.

"I'm jest so happy fer ya, Wanda," Marty said. "An' with Doc here, everythin' will go all right, I'm jest sure. Ya'll finally have thet baby you've been wantin' so bad. When will it be?"

Wanda groaned.

"Oh, it seems so far away yet. Not until next April."

"But the months will go quickly. They always do. An' ya can have the winter months to be preparin' fer 'im. It'll make the winter sech a happy time. It'll go so fast ya'll find it hard to be a doin' all thet ya want."

"I hope so. Marty, can you show me the pattern for that sweater that Arnie was wearing last Sunday? I'd like to make one."

"Sure. Ya'll have no problem at all crochetin' thet."

Over coffee and sugar cookies, Marty and Wanda worked out the pattern--Wanda taking notes as Marty showed her the sweater and explained the crochet stitches.

The afternoon went quickly and when Arnie and Clare awoke from their naps Wanda realized that she must be on her way.

Missie was sent to ask Clark, who was busy shovelling grain from a wagon to a bin, if he would bring Wanda's team. He complied at once and with another embrace and well wishes, Wanda was sent on her way.

Marty walked toward the grain bin with Clark.

"Wanda had the best news," she enthused with great feeling in her voice. "She is finally gonna have thet baby thet she wants so badly. She's so excited. Oh, I pray thet everythin' be okay this time."

Clark's eyes took on a shine, too. Marty went on. "An' Cam says iffen it's a boy, it'll be the smartest, handsomest, and best in the West; and iffen it's a girl, the prettiest."

Clark's eyes became thoughtful.

"Ya don't know Cameron Marshall too well yet, do ya?" "I've hardly met the man--only see'd 'im a few times at neighborhood meetin's. Why?"

Clark's eyes became even more serious.

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"He's a rather strange man." He paused. "It's jest like Cam to feel thet his boy's gotta be the smartest, his girl the prettiest. Thet's like Cam." He waited a moment. "I think thet be the reason why he married Wanda. He figured thet she was the prettiest girl thet he ever laid eyes on--so she had to be 'his.' The problem with Cameron Marshall is his emphasis on 'mine's the best.' I 'member one time thet Cam saw a fine horse. He jest had to have it 'cause he figured it a little better'n eny other horse in these parts. Sold all his seed grain to git thet horse. Set him back fer years, but he had him a better lookin' horse than enybody round about. Guess he figured it was worth it.

"Ever notice his wagon? All painted up an' with extry metal trimmin's. Could have had a bigger place to live. Men of the neighborhood figured on being neighborly a few years back and helped him log so's he could build. 'Stead, he saw thet wagon, so he sold the logs an' bought it--an' he an' Wanda still live in thet one little room. The way Cam sees it, a house belongs to the woman, not the man. Often wished thet he'd take him a notion thet he had to have the best house, too; might find 'im a way to git one. Sure would be easier fer Wanda--an' now with a baby comin', they sure do need more room."

Clark was looking off at the distant hills as he spoke. Marty had never known before what kind of a man Cameron Marshall was. She felt a helplessness concerning Wanda.

"Often wondered what would make a man feel so unsure of hisself, like, thet he had to prove hisself by gittin'
things.
Somethin' deep down must be troublin' Cam to have made 'im like he is."

Clark seemed to bring himself back from a long way off. "Sure do hope thet the young'un be a dandy, or it's gonna be awful hard on his pa."

He smiled then.

"Didn't mean me to put a damper on yer good news. I'm sure thet Cam will have reason to be proud--an' Wanda--I'm real happy fer Wanda. It'll wake her life up to have a baby in it."

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Chapter 6

Marty Calls on Mrs. Larson

The winter's day held a deep chill. As Marty packed a box with bread, soup broth, vegetables, and molasses cookies, she was thankful that no wind was blowing. The day was cold as it was, and a wind would have made it most unbearable.

Word had come that morning that Mrs. Larson was ill. It seemed that it was not a common cold or flu but something far more serious, and Marty felt that she must go and see her neighbor even though the cold held a grip on the land.

Clark hated to see her go alone, but realizing that Missie was far too young to be left in charge of Clare and Little Arnie, there was nothing for him to do but remain at home with the children.

Marty dressed as warmly as she could against the cold. Then carrying her box with her, she went out to where Clark waited with the team.

"Don't 'llow yerself to be kept over-late," he cautioned; "an' should it start to blow, head home quick-like."

Marty promised, tucked the blanket carefully around herself and started off.

The road, in the flat whiteness of the land, was hard to follow in places, so Marty gave Dan and Charlie their head and urged them on.

When the unkept Larson homestead came into view,

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Marty noticed that very little smoke came from the chimney of the cabin.

No one met her in the yard to assist her with the team, so she tethered Dan and Charlie to a nearby post and hurried, with her box, to the house.

There was a stirring at an unwashed and tattered- curtained window as she approached. Her knock was answered by Clae who quietly motioned her in.

Nandry was washing dirty dishes in a pan of equally dirty water. The location of a stubby broom showed Marty that Clae had been using it in an effort to sweep the floor.

Well, at least they try, Marty thought with thankfulness. After greeting the girls, she turned to the almost cold stove. The room was cold too, and sent shivers through her in spite of the fact that she had not yet removed her coat.

She opened the lid of the stove to observe one lone piece of wet wood smoldering in the firebox, producing very little more than a thin wispy stream of smoke.

"Where be yer wood?" she asked.

Clae answered, "Is none. Pa didn't get it cut and we can't split it."

"Do ya have an axe?"

"Yeah--sort of."

Marty discovered what the "sort of" meant when she went to the scattered wood that made up their meager winter supply. Never had she seen such a dull and chipped piece of equipment. With a great deal of effort she was able to produce enough wood to get a fire going to take the chill off the house.

After she had built up the fire and placed a kettle on to boil, she went in to see Mrs. Larson.

The woman lay huddled under some blankets on a narrow bed in the second room of the small cabin. Marty felt thankful that at least clothing was not strewn all over the room. Then she realized with despair that probably everything they owned was on their backs, in an effort to protect themselves from the cold. Mrs. Larson lay white and quiet beneath the scant covers.

"Why didn't I think to bring a heavy quilt?" Marty reprimanded