Deeply Devoted (24 page)

Morning light cast streaks of red across the horizon. Peter stalked toward the fields, his legs feeling heavy, to survey what was left of his wheat. Normally this was his favorite time of day, with the quiet likened to the hush of a lover’s sigh. But not today. He knew the wheat, which had grown nearly two feet high, was now reduced to about a fourth of its size from the Rocky Mountain grasshoppers. In the last few days the humming had gotten louder in warning, and though the bait had killed many of the eggs buried during the winter, yesterday afternoon he’d witnessed a swarm of grasshoppers a half mile wide. He’d told everyone to hurry inside and stay indoors, and to close the windows to seal off the house. Frantically, Catharine and her sisters hurried to do his bidding, with Anna snatching up the puppies to carry them to safety.

Peter stood surveying the ravaged field with despair. Now where would the money come from to run his farm? Not only that, but he had three more mouths to feed. He stuffed his disappointment deep inside. He mustn’t let Catharine know how really bad this could be for the farm. He wasn’t about to ask his mother for an advance, at least not until the next crop yielded. He’d had to do that last year, but not now with their strained relationship.

At least he hadn’t lost the entire crop this time, but he blamed himself. Could be he hadn’t gotten the bait down in time, or for whatever reason perhaps not all of them took the bait.
Maybe I’ll just become a rancher.

Catharine’s flower bed was destroyed, as well as the vegetable garden—after all her backbreaking work. The grasshoppers had gnawed nearly every plant in sight.

Shoulders slumped and head down, Peter turned to go back to the house. He’d figure something out. The Lord hadn’t ever let him go begging. When he finally looked up again, Catharine was walking toward him, a sad look on her weary face. Somehow he would find a way to make it all work.

“I’m sorry about your flower bed.” His voice was barely above a whisper as she took his hand in hers.

“That’s the least of your worries, Peter. Don’t even give it a thought. I can plant another one.” She rubbed her hand across his shoulder, and he felt comforted as they walked in companionable silence.

What had he expected? That she wouldn’t support him? He needn’t have worried. Catharine had come to accept her role as a farmer’s wife with enthusiasm, despite her background, and he was proud to call her his wife. He stopped and turned her to face him. He could get lost in those sparkling eyes so full of life, and he felt an instant tingle of desire. That’s what she did to him every time she looked at him. He stared into her lovely face as she stroked his jaw. No words were needed when she slipped her arms about his waist and held him tight against her.

Later that morning, Catharine watched as Peter started plowing under the field. Other farmers had been hit just as hard, so there was no use whining. They’d all help each other out. That’s what neighbors did around here, she was learning.

She hummed a tune, trying to stay cheerful as she raked away the ravages of her flowers, then went on to what was left of the vegetable garden. She’d go to town again to look for some vegetable seedlings to plant. If they were to be found at all. Thankfully, Peter had canned tomatoes and beans with the help of his mother last summer, and there was still a good supply handy. So they wouldn’t starve.

“I’m finished cleaning the porch,” Anna called from the steps. “Is there anything else you want me to do?”

Catharine tilted her head back in order to see from underneath the brim of her bonnet. “Why don’t you see if Greta needs help getting supper started? I’m nearly through here.”

Anna flung the broom aside and hurried back inside. Catharine smiled to herself. Her sisters were becoming indispensible to her. They would be a great help when the baby arrived.

She wanted to tell Peter about the baby, but now was not a good time with the failure of the crop on his heart and mind. But soon she would. Perhaps in a week he’d have a better grip on things and she could tell him.
I want a little boy that looks just like him.
Catharine hugged her arms across her chest, daydreaming. Soon she’d have Peter bring his childhood cradle down from the attic.

Supper was a somber affair without the jovial talking and discussions normally heard around the dinner table. Everyone sensed Peter’s mood, and they were also tired from the long day of cleanup.

“Peter, thank you for letting the puppies come inside during the grasshopper swarm.” Anna spoke softly as everyone concentrated on their simple dinner. “I’m sure they would’ve been so scared. I know I still have to give three of them away.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a grunt, setting his fork down. Catharine knew Anna was expecting him to agree that she’d have to part with the puppies, but he seemed too dejected to even care. “I’m going to Cheyenne in the morning. I’ll pick up some more flower and vegetable seeds. The UP railroad will deliver fresh vegetables to the market up from Colorado, so I’ll buy some. Need some fertilizers too . . .” His voice trailed off. He seemed to be going over his mental list out loud.

“I could go with you,” Catharine said.

He gave her a steady look. “Not this time. It’s going to be a fast trip . . . unless you just want to go for the ride.”

“Not really. I have plenty to do. Tomorrow is laundry day.”

“Ugh.” A groan escaped from Greta. “We just did laundry.”

“It just seems that way,” Anna piped up. “It always does when it’s the least favorite chore.”

“But we can get the task accomplished pretty quickly,” Catharine said while she began to clear the dishes. “Whose turn is it tonight for cleanup? Yours, Anna?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “I guess.”

Peter rose from the table, thanked Greta for supper, and strolled quietly from the kitchen. Catharine started to go after him, but Greta stopped her. “Give him time, Cath. He just needs to be alone for now.”

Maybe she was right, but Catharine’s heart ached to soothe him. “You’re probably right.”

From the kitchen window they watched him wander off toward the barn. He waved to Bryan, who rode past him and stopped in front of the house.

“Oh, what a nice surprise. I didn’t know he was coming over tonight.” Greta never waited for a response but threw her dish towel to Anna. She patted her hair and smoothed her dress, then hurried to the front door to meet him.

“In that case, I guess I’ll stick around and help you, Anna. You wash, I’ll dry,” Catharine said, stacking the dishes in the sink.

“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to.” Anna put water in the kettle to heat for washing the dishes.

“You know, Anna, I’m really proud of how you and Greta have pitched in with all the chores. There seems to be an endless supply of them.” Catharine gave her sister a hug.

“What will you do if I live in town this fall to finish high school?” Anna asked.

Catharine shrugged. “That hasn’t been decided yet, but I’m sure we’ll manage—”

Greta poked her head back into the kitchen. “It is all right if I go for a walk along the creek with Bryan?” Her cheeks held a bright flush that made her even prettier.

“Yes. You really didn’t have to ask—you’re eighteen now. But I’m glad you told me just the same.”

Greta flashed Catharine a broad smile. “Thanks!” She whirled around and hurried out of the house on Bryan’s arm.

The tack room was always Peter’s favorite place to piddle around when he had something heavy on his mind. He liked the smell of leather and metal permeating the small cubicle in the barn. As he reached for a frayed rope that he wanted to mend, his eye caught a small note leaning against an oilcan. He grinned as he opened it.

Peter,

I’ve watched you agonize over losing most of the crop. I’m so sorry, but together we can survive this. As you said, it wasn’t the first time. If you really are serious about giving cattle raising a try, I will stand behind you. I wish I could make everything better, but the Lord says He will restore the years the locusts have eaten. We must rely on that promise. I think it also means the lonely years you and I have had will be in the past. I just wanted to remind you to be strong in the Lord. We’re in His hands.

With deep devotion, Catharine

Tears filled Peter’s eyes. He was supposed to be a man of faith, but instead he’d been whining. Maybe not verbally but by his attitude. Catharine’s gentle note reminded him to cast his burdens on the One who cared most about him. His Creator. He felt guilty now even doubting his wife’s past and believing his mother’s accusation.

His heart was torn about Catharine. He knew she had much faith, but was his mother right? He couldn’t bring himself to ask Catharine . . . not yet.