A Quiet Strength (11 page)

Jonathan was thrilled to learn he was to become a father. Virginia was happy, too, though inwardly she wondered how she would ever cope. Many hours of Jonathan’s day were spent with the horses. What little time he had was often taken trying to assure one small, troubled girl that she was loved and would be protected. Mindy soon felt she had every right to Jonathan’s lap whenever he sat down. If he was still standing, she would tug at his trouser leg, demanding that he come to their favorite chair. Jonathan had not found any time to work on finishing the inside of the house as planned.

If he’s this busy now
, Virginia thought as she watched Jona? than working a horse in the corral,
how will he ever have time to be a father to another child?

And Virginia herself, already feeling she had heavier responsibilities than she could rightly manage, wondered how in the world she could take on more—alone. She found herself praying that Mindy would quickly work through her inner turmoil. They were going to need time and strength to deal with the new baby.

It seemed to Virginia that one day Jonathan was coming in with snow on his shoulders and the next he was returning with corral muck nearly to his knees. As familiar as she was with farm life, she’d had no idea of the state of corrals in the spring when thawing ground and pounding hooves combined to make a foot-deep quagmire. It didn’t help when that same muck was splashed up trousers and even onto jackets. The weekly laundry task had Virginia wrinkling her nose in disgust and scrubbing her hands for long minutes after with strong lye soap. She hoped the warming sun would quickly dry up the corral mud.

Now Mindy decided she should be able to go with Jonathan each time he walked out the door. Virginia had to endure an exhausting tantrum each time the door closed firmly behind him. “I don’t want to wait,” the child screamed over and over. “I want to go now.”

Then Mindy discovered the magic word. “Please.” As far as the child was concerned, “please” was to be the unlocker of all doors, the overcomer of all obstacles. One morning in the midst of Mindy’s screaming to go along with Jonathan, she suddenly stopped and looked at Virginia with large, tear-filled eyes. Tipping her head slightly to one side and choking back her sobs, she implored in heart-wrenching fashion, “Please. Please I go now.” It nearly broke Virginia’s tender heart. She pulled the child into her arms and held her.

The little girl seemed to feel that she had won the victory.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Virginia, stroking her hair, “Mindy can’t go now. Later. Later you can go see Molly. But not now. No.”

Mindy pulled back, her eyes dripping more tears, her mouth trembling in disappointment.

“I say please,” she said, shaking her head in defiance. “When Mindy say please you are ’posed to say yes.”

Virginia knew she was in for another angry outburst. How could one get a child to understand?

“I think we need to do some talking about names around here,” Jonathan said one evening as he and Mindy sat and rocked and Virginia’s knitting needles shaped a small bootee. At first Virginia thought that he was referring to the horses. She had named three of the foals, but two remained unnamed. She just hadn’t been able to come up with names that suited them. Or maybe he was talking about possible names for their baby.

But then he said, “We’ve sort of avoided figuring out names, but it looks to me like she might be around for a while. We’d best come up with something for her to call us.”

He was not talking horses—or babies. He was talking of Mindy.

Virginia had felt awkward about it, too. She nodded.

“What would you suggest?”

“Well, it seems a mite formal to ask her to call us Mr. and Mrs. Lewis.”

Virginia smiled.

“And I don’t think it’d be right to let her call us Jonathan and Virginia, either—even if her tongue could handle it.”

“Some folks use Uncle and Auntie,” Virginia offered.

Jonathan nodded. Virginia saw his arms tighten slightly. “Might do,” he responded.

“But you don’t favor it?”

He waited before answering. “I dunno.”

Not a word had come from Jenny since her departure five months earlier. It seemed that she had no intention of coming back for her child. Virginia wondered if she had found happiness with her self-centered, arrogant Hayden. She deliberately forced her thoughts back to Jonathan’s words. Thinking about Jenny and her selfish husband just made her angry.

Virginia waited.

“It’s just … well, it just seems like the little tyke needs everything we can give, and if calling us like we were her own folks would help that any …”

“You’d have her call us Mama and Papa?”

He nodded. “Would you object?”

Virginia thought about it. “No. No, I guess not. Seems like that’s what we may end up being.”

Jonathan nodded again. It seemed to be settled. He snuggled Mindy in closer against his chest.

It wasn’t until the day’s work was finally over, Mindy was tucked in for the night, and they had retired to their own bed that they had time to really talk. Virginia found herself looking forward each day to those precious minutes of sharing thoughts and activities and dreams for the future. It seemed to be the only time they really had alone. A time to be husband and wife. A time to catch up on not just the happenings of the day, but also the other’s feelings concerning those events. It was a time to pray together. To bind their hearts and spirits. Their own private, personal time to work toward becoming truly one. It wasn’t a whole lot different than when they were living with Grandmother Withers, but at least they didn’t wonder if they were being overheard.

CHAPTER  11

J
onathan had secured the help of a woman in town to care for Grandmother Withers. Mrs. Cadbury came by three times a week and made sure that the fires were burning, that the shopping was done, that the needs of Grandmother were met. But with the coming of spring, Virginia knew that Mrs. Cadbury, no matter how willing she might be, would not be able to also care for the large flower garden. One noon over lunch she broached the subject with Jonathan.

“I’m sure Grandmother’s flower beds are in sore need of attention. They’ve been left far too long already.”

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking on it. I did hire a boy to do the main weeding, but I’m sure he doesn’t know much about plants.”

Virginia, relieved to know that the main weeding had been done, said, “I was wondering if I should go in for a day or two.”

Jonathan looked at Virginia, a frown creasing his brow.

“I won’t overdo it. Just trim things up a bit and maybe put in a few stakes.”

“If you get to feeling tired, you’ll stop?”

Virginia nodded.

The next morning when she had finished the breakfast dishes and placed a lunch in the icebox for Jonathan, Virginia hurried Mindy out the door. “We’re going to see Grandmother,” she said to the upturned little face.

“Which grandma?” asked Mindy, having already been introduced to three of them over the months she had been with Virginia and Jonathan.

“Grandmother Withers.”

“Oh.” That was all. As though everything was now in proper perspective.

“I’m going to work in her garden, and you are going to be a good girl.”

“Can I help, Mama?”

“We’ll see,” Virginia responded, her heart twisting with bittersweet emotions at the seldom-used “Mama.”

Grandmother Withers was already in the yard, trowel in hand and a broad smile on her face as she watched them arrive. Virginia could see that she had a crink in her back when she tried to straighten up. She reached a hand around to support her spine. Virginia noted the brief shadow in her eyes from pain she was unable to fully hide.

They started to work in the yard together, Grandmother Withers chatting and pointing and giving instructions, Virginia doing her best to carry them out. Mindy followed them around with a small trowel in her hand, digging up dirt here and there and mostly getting in the way. Virginia was pleased to see that the boy hired by Jonathan had been doing his job. The beds were remarkably weed free.

She returned home that night extremely weary but happy with what had been accomplished.

“I don’t know whose son you selected for weeding,” she informed Jonathan, “but he has been doing a first-rate job on your grandmother’s garden. If I go in every other week or so, we should manage just fine.”

It was a big relief to Virginia. She had been fretting about Grandmother’s yard work. And her own days were not getting easier. Even though the corrals had dried out so there wasn’t as much heavy laundry, her back still ached after every day spent washing clothes, sweeping floors, and caring for Mindy.

In fact, her back seemed to ache a lot. It was all she could do to keep up with the weeds in her own vegetable and flower gardens. She showed Mindy how to feed the chickens, and the three-year-old took great delight in filling the watering and feeding dishes. Mindy also begged to be the one to feed the dog and the two barn cats Jonathan had decided the farm needed. In fact, Mindy seemed to take more pleasure from the animals than she did from humans. Virginia heard her steady chatter as she placed the food dishes. Virginia continually marveled at the child’s vocabulary. Once she had decided to talk, all the words seemed to be in place.

But there were still the temper tantrums. The wet beds. The continually wizened thumb from all the sucking. Virginia feared that the child’s teeth would be damaged. But she didn’t want to resort yet to pepper or vanilla extract. The child needed assurance—and discipline. But carefully measured out, the one balanced with the other.

Sundays were the only days that the farm routine changed. Other than feeding, Jonathan did not work the horses on Sunday. The Lewises slept in a bit later on Sunday morning. At least they attempted it. Mindy usually wakened them earlier than they would have wished. Almost before the sun peeked over the horizon, the door was flung open and Mindy bounced onto their bed.

“I think it’s up time. My tummy’s hungry” was her usual wake-up call.

Virginia was tempted to hide her head under the pillow.

More often than not, Jonathan sent Mindy on back to her room to get dressed, and he crawled out to pull on shirt and trousers. “You sleep,” he’d tell Virginia with a kiss, “I’ll find her something that will hold her until breakfast.” And Virginia often did go back to sleep. She knew Jonathan would call her in plenty of time to get them all ready for church.

What Jonathan and Mindy found to do on those early Sunday mornings Virginia was not sure. She only knew that the house was nice and quiet. She sometimes heard the distant barking of the dog or the welcoming whinny of a horse. By the time she had talked herself into getting up, the fire had been built, the chickens and farm pets fed, and their one cow milked. All things looked to be in order, and Mindy seemed to have either forgotten or else had something put into her hungry tummy.

One thing is for sure
, Virginia told herself as she watched the little girl dig into her breakfast.
Her appetite has certainly improved
.

Along with the appetite gradually had come a more whole-some, healthy appearance. She was still tiny for her age—Virginia supposed she always would be—but she now did not look so pale and thin.

Virginia’s one regret concerning Sunday was that, try as they might, they had not been able to help Mindy get over her shyness with the grandparents. They coaxed and cajoled and even tried gentle bribes, but the little one could not be persuaded to let go of Jonathan’s hand. Belinda baked fancy cookies, Drew offered sticks of fresh spearmint, and Jenny’s father, Mindy’s actual grandfather, came to church with pockets laden with treasures for her. It was especially difficult for him when Mindy clung to Jonathan or buried her face in Virginia’s skirts. She had discovered her own small, safe world, and she seemed still doubtful and hesitant to extend its borders or let anyone else in—even her own grandpa.

Virginia watched Mr. Woods’ disappointment with keen understanding. He had already lost his daughter; now he was unable to make friends with his grandchild. Virginia repeatedly tried to reassure him, “She just needs time. It took us several months to win her over.” She could have added that they still had many days when they doubted that they had indeed won her over. Though certainly they had come a long way. Not only did Mindy love Jonathan, she loved his horses. Especially Molly. She was never happier than when Jonathan would boost her up onto Molly’s back and lead her around the yard, or place her up in front of him in the saddle as he rode Cricket or Chiquita off to check a pasture fence or see how the grass was holding out or if the stream was clear of debris.

Mindy would return, cheeks aglow, hair windswept, and a shine to her eyes that made Virginia smile.

The months of late summer and early fall seemed unusually hot to Virginia, who was feeling the weight of the child she carried. The baby was not due to be born until early January, and at times Virginia wondered how she ever would make it through the months ahead. She had escaped the ordeal of morning sickness, for which she was grateful, but she did seem to have unusual pain in her legs and back. Perhaps it was the lifting about of young Mindy or the work in the gardens, she told herself. She tried to keep her complaints to herself, not wanting to concern Jonathan.

But he seemed to read the tiredness in her eyes and often expressed his concern. He made sure she did not need to carry wood or water, and he went to town to order one of those new washing machines so she wouldn’t need to stand over a scrub board. Virginia was concerned that the machine might be an extravagance they could not afford, but Jonathan pointed to the young horses in the nearby pasture. “They will help pay for it someday. They’re looking better all the time.”

But Virginia knew it would be some time until Jonathan put any of the animals up for sale. He didn’t want all his hard work and careful schooling spoiled in a matter of days by someone unskilled in horse handling.

Indian summer allowed Virginia to get extra garden vegetables canned and put the rest in the root cellar. She was also able to clean up all her flower beds and mulch her roses. Jonathan was particularly pleased with the unseasonably warm weather. Each additional day of sunshine meant saving on the hay for the horses during the long winter ahead.

Mindy continued to thrive—at least physically. Virginia sometimes wondered if they ever would be able to take the anger out of the youngster. Her sudden bursts of rage caught them off guard on many occasions. They were never sure just what might bring about a tantrum—often something as simple as Jonathan leaving without her, a tangled shoelace, a book that wouldn’t stay open at the right page, a kitten that didn’t want to be carried.

Virginia wished she’d had more time—and more information—from Jenny. There was so much about the child she didn’t know. She did not even know her birth date, and Mr. Woods himself was only able to give her a vague idea. They picked a date and marked it on the calendar. Until they knew better, that would be the day they would celebrate the child’s birthday.

In the first weeks and months, Virginia had hoped Jenny would return. It seemed only right and fair that the little one be raised by her own mother. But as time moved toward their first year together, Virginia began to fear the possibility. She didn’t know how she could bear it if Jenny suddenly appeared on their doorstep and announced that she had come for her daughter. She didn’t know how Jonathan would manage the loss, either.

And how would Mindy react? Would she remember her mother at all? If she did, would she embrace her or cower in a corner with her thumb? Virginia wasn’t sure.

She now called them Mama and Papa as naturally as if she had been born into the home. Though she was quite at ease with either one of them, it was Jonathan whom she adored. Papa was the first name she called every morning, the last good-night of the evening. Papa was the one she mimicked, the one she squealed over with delight. So it hadn’t really been the horses that had won the little girl, Virginia realized, but the man who daily carried her off to the barn to meet the horses. Because he loved them, Mindy learned to love them, too. Because she had learned to trust the strength of his arms, she learned to relax in them. To lean against the broadness of his chest, knowing that she was safe and loved.