Forevermore (27 page)

“C’mere, sugar pie.” Hope reached out and took Emmy-Lou’s hand. “I got a grand idea. Whilst your auntie sits here and sews, how’s about you and me havin’ a little fun?”

“Okay! What’re we gonna do?”

“I’m fixin’ to show you some stars.” For the past several evenings, Hope had plotted this. Before she hadn’t had the time, but now with the reaping and threshing over, she grabbed the opportunity. In the twilight, beneath the sycamore, she and Jakob’s daughter chased fireflies. Try as she might, Emmy-Lou couldn’t capture any, but Hope caught some in a canning jar. Satisfied with what she had, she used the spring mechanism to seal the jar, then knelt down. “Emmy-Lou, lemme show you what I got.”

Emmy-Lou twisted and tripped. She lay on the ground, her eyeglasses up on her forehead and her lower lip trembling.

It took everything within Hope to keep from springing up and running to her. Emmy-Lou hadn’t hit anything hard enough to get hurt, and giving her pity would only make her cry. Instead, Hope asked, “Is the ground okay?”

“The ground?” Emmy-Lou pushed herself upright.

“Yup. I bet that patch of dirt didn’t expect you to go floppin’ on it. You’d best dust yourself off so’s the dirt gets to go back to where it belongs. But first put your spectacles on your nose.

You ain’t got eyes up there on your forehead.”

Pulling her glasses back into place, she giggled. “Daddy has eyes in the back of his head.”

“I knew there was somethin’ special ’bout him.”
Actually, lots of special things. He’s a good man. Best I ever met. Emmy-Lou and Annie are lucky to be his
.

“Did I put enough dirt back?” Emmy-Lou spread out her skirts.

“Almost. Yeah. You got that last spot real good. Now c’mere.”

Emmy-Lou came over and nestled close. Hope held up the jar.

“What do you see?”

A small finger ventured to touch the glass. “Sparkles.”

“Twinkles, like a star?”

Face bright with glee, Emmy-Lou couldn’t take her gaze from the jar. “Is that how stars twinkle?”

“They look the same to me. Watch and see how there’s a twinkle, then a couple, then it all goes dark.”

“And then there’s lotsa twinkles all at the same time! I saw it.

I did! Did you see it, too?”

They sat beneath the tree, in the shade-cooled patch of grass, admiring the fireflies and chattering. Hope wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she heard footsteps. She recognized the sure, steady stride at once. The last few days, his steps had changed—become ponderous or sad. She wasn’t sure which, or why. But Mr. Stauffer’s approach carried with it the self-assured pace that normally characterized him. “I hear your pa a-comin’.”

“Daddy! Miss Hope got me a whole jar of twinkle stars!”

“Did she now?” Mr. Stauffer lowered himself to the ground and sat cross-legged. He reached over and lifted Emmy-Lou into his lap. “Let’s see.”

He dipped his head so his cheek rested against his daughter’s temple and listened to Emmy-Lou as she repeated the things Hope had told her. At all the right times, he hummed appreciatively or made comments.

Hope watched and listened, relishing the way Jakob lavished attention on his little girl. How could a man be so very strong, yet unspeakably tender? Whatever had been weighing heavy on his heart must be over, a fact that delighted her.

When little Emmy-Lou’s chatter finally wound down, he tapped the side of the jar. “What made you catch these?”

“I dunno. Miss Hope, why did we catch the sparkle-fireflies?” Hope thought for a moment. She’d made plans, but with Mr.

Stauffer here, she suddenly felt self-conscious.
I’m bein’ silly. Don’t make no never mind what he thinks of me. I never bothered to worry what any other man thought. It’s different with him, though. Don’t know why that is. Well, yeah, I guess I do. A feller who’s this devoted to his family—he’s a man to be admired. It’s natural to care what somebody thinks when you admire them.

“Miss Hope?”

Hope shook her head to clear away her thoughts.
I’ll leave here and he’ll forget me, but I want Emmy-Lou to remember what we done tonight
. “Emmy-Lou, ’member how you went to Abilene and your pa used the light in the sky to help you get home?”

“Uh-huh! Like in our song—’bout the traveler in the dark.”

Pleasure trickled through Hope. This would have been a delightful time, just playing—but Emmy-Lou’s bright mind allowed this to be a time to learn, too. “When you hear in the Bible about the stars in the heavens, I want you to ’member all these twinkles. Right now, it’s like you’re holding stars in your hands.”

Mr. Stauffer’s head shot up. It was too dim to see his eyes well enough to tell what he was thinking. His lips parted, but he said nothing.

Emmy-Lou tilted her head back until it thumped against her father’s chest, then craned her neck. “I see the tree. I don’t see stars.”

“Just ’cuz you can’t see ’em, does it mean they’re not there?”

Emmy-Lou giggled. “That’s silly.” She turned her attention back to the jar. “I can’t count how many there are. They blink and go away. How many stars are there in the sky?”

“Only God knows how many, Liebling
,
but they shine like the little dots in your jar. Miss Hope is right.” His voice dropped to a lower, softer tone that had the odd effect of making her yearn to lean closer to him. “It’s like you have a piece of the sky in your hands.”

Hugging the jar tightly, Emmy-Lou let out a blissful sigh.

“I getta keep it in my room and have my very own stars every night now.”

I shoulda thought about that. Well, it ain’t fair to let her go on thinkin’ she can keep ’em forever
. Hope looked at her boss, and a lazy smile slanted across his face. Clearly, he’d left the explanation to her.

“Sugar pie, the fireflies have families they wanna get back to.

When they’re where they belong, they’ll twinkle better. When you open the jar, they’ll fly up, up, and away to the ones what love ’em.”

Emmy-Lou’s lower lip poked out. “Don’t they wanna stay and be my friend?”

“Just like you got to play with your friends and then come home to your daddy, them fireflies played with us and now they wanna go back home. Friends come and go. Family’s what you keep.”

“You don’t got any family. We’ll keep you!”

Hope leaned close in order to make sure Emmy-Lou saw her clearly. “We done talked ’bout that a while back. I’m like a dandelion wishy. I’ll blow on down the road so’s I can help someone else.” An unexpected and unexplainable heaviness settled in her heart as she spoke those words. In spite of her own feelings, she put Emmy-Lou’s welfare first. “Your auntie will have the baby, and after that, I’ll be here for . . .” She thought for a moment. “I’ll be here for two more Sunday church services. Then I’ll leave.”

“Let’s not borrow the future. Let’s enjoy this minute.” Mr. Stauffer settled his arms loosely about his daughter. “I used to catch lightning bugs when I was a boy.”

“Did Aunt Annie help you?”

A rich chuckle rippled out of him.
“Nein.
She and my brother and I would have a contest to see who could catch the most. The only problem is, it’s hard to count them because they move in the jar!”

“You got yourself a brother?” As soon as she asked, Hope wished she hadn’t.

“I did, but now Annie and I are the only ones left.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact, Hope wondered if his brother had died in his youth. But then why didn’t Jakob stay on the family farm?

“Emmy-Lou, it’s about bedtime for you.” His hold on her tightened the slightest bit. “You’d best let out those little bugs now.”

Emmy-Lou balked for a moment. Slumping back into her father’s chest she asked in a tiny, sad voice, “Can we sing?”

“Shore. Your daddy can undo the latch, and when you’re ready, you can lift off the lid.”

Mr. Stauffer turned his attention on her. “Hope, come over closer. Help us.”

How had he known that just minutes ago she’d yearned to lean closer? Hope felt her cheeks go warm.

“Yeah, Miss Hope. C’mon. I need your help, too.”

As soon as Hope scooted closer, her boss surprised her by giving the waistband of her apron an almost playful tug. “I could drive a team of horses in the space between us. Get on over here.”

An odd feeling shot through her. Hope couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Part of her wanted to laugh at his outrageous comment. Mr. Stauffer wasn’t given to speaking so glibly. But a strange longing also assailed her. For a moment, Hope wondered what it would be like to squeeze alongside him so she and Emmy-Lou would share his shelter and security. She compromised by wiggling a hairsbreadth closer. “There.”

A large, incredibly warm hand suddenly curled around her shoulder and tugged her a mere inch away from him. “No.” A grin creased his face and made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“There.”
Before Hope could react, Jakob began singing. “Twinkle, twinkle—”

Though Emmy-Lou immediately joined in, her sweet soprano blending with her father’s rich baritone, Hope remained silent. Many, many years ago, her mother sang this same song with her. A wealth of bittersweet memories swept through her, leaving in its wake a heaviness.
This ain’t like me, broodin’
.
Emmy-Lou ain’t got herself a mama, but she has her auntie and her daddy—a first-rate daddy. Ain’t never seen a man father his kid the way he does. I oughtta count myself lucky that Mr. Stauffer don’t mind me bein’ here and that God let me share this moment.

Emmy-Lou started to open the jar and Hope began to sing as the fireflies flitted free. Mr. Stauffer didn’t know the third verse, so she and Emmy-Lou sang a duet. Hope missed the rich tone of his voice.
I set out to make Jakob’s daughter a memory tonight, but he done turned it around. I’ll be leavin’ here, and I’ll always carry the recollection of us sittin’ side by side in the dark, him cuddlin’ her and singing. Emmy-Lou’s gonna make it through life just fine because of him.

Afterward, Mr. Stauffer gave his daughter a kiss. “I’ll come listen to your prayers.” He set Emmy-Lou on her feet.

Hope started to rise, but as she got to her knees, Emmy-Lou’s arms wound around her neck. “Thank you, Miss Hope. I liked holding the bug jar. The sparkles were so pretty. I’m glad the sky has lotsa stars that twinkle like that.”

“You’re welcome.” Hope squeezed her tight. The delicate wire frame of Emmy-Lou’s glasses felt cool against Hope’s cheek.

Tilting her head ever so slightly to keep from bending the metal, Hope whispered, “When you’re in bed, you can close your eyes and still see all them twinkles.”

“I’m sure she will.” Mr. Stauffer extended his hand to her to help her up. “Hope?”

He’s always such a gentleman. Ain’t been a single time since I been here that he ain’t pitched in, helped out, or shown fine manners
. She accepted his assistance and rose. “Thankee.”

When he let go of her hand, Hope felt odd. Lost.
I’m tired. That’s all. It just ain’t like me to be emotional
. Then Emmy-Lou slipped her small hand into Hope’s.
I didn’t realize how big Mr. Stauffer’s hands are
.

Holding hands, the three of them walked to the house together. Every so often, Emmy-Lou lifted both feet so she’d hang suspended. Hope glanced at her boss as they approached the porch. Annie sat there, her needle poised over a bitsy white gown. Hope glanced at her boss and murmured, “You got yourself a mighty nice family, Mr. Stauffer.”

“Call me Jakob, Hope.”

His invitation took her by surprise. “You bein’ my boss and all, it don’t seem quite right. You deserve my respect.”

“I respect you deeply, and I use your given name. For as long as you stay here, call me Jakob.”

For as long as I stay here. But it won’t be long now. Annie’ll have her babe any day, and soon after that Mr. Stauffer will hitch Hattie to my cart and send me on my way
.

“Say it. Jakob.”

Hope scrunched her nose. “It’ll feel odd to me, calling you by your given name.”
Personal. Like we’re friends. But we are. I don’t know how it happened, me making a man my friend. But ain’t a finer man on the face of the earth
.

“You’ll get used to it.” His voice sounded pleasant. “So?”

“Jakob,” she said. Her voice sounded breathless. Embarrassed, she repeated, “Yep. You got yourself a mighty fine family.”

“Thanks. I do have a ‘mighty nice family.’ What about yours, Hope? What happened to them?”

As if by some prearranged plan, they both turned loose of Emmy-Lou. She scampered up the porch steps, leaving them behind. Hope called out to her, “I left milk and a cookie on the table for your bedtime snack.”

Annie pried herself out of the chair. “I ate the cookie. I’ll get her another.”

Hope started to do it herself, but her boss held her back. “You were going to tell me about what happened to your family.”

Just to have something to do with her empty hands, Hope crammed them into her apron pockets. “I lost ’em all at the same time in eighty-two.” She hitched her shoulders in a tense little jerk. “Smallpox.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “You must have been so young.”

“Fourteen.”

“Hope”—compassion resonated in his voice—“how terrible. You were no more than a girl.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend it was easy.” Most of the time she kept busy enough, and the past was a mere blur. Even now, a decade later, she felt the loss of all whom she’d loved. She dared to look into his steady blue gaze and confessed, “Even lookin’ back sometimes pains me. I take refuge in knowin’ they’re resting in the bosom of Christ Jesus.”

“Even knowing we’ll be reunited in heaven—that doesn’t make the grief go away.” The glow of the kerosene lantern on the porch illuminated the understanding on his face.

He knows the ache. His is fresh, too, yet he’s still strong for his daughter and sis.
Hope looked away.

A rough finger gently turned her face back to his. “How did you survive?”

“An old lady took me in. Eudora Gray. She dragged me outta the swamp of my poor-pitiful-me’s and got my feet firmly planted on the Solid Rock. Filled my heart and mind with God’s truth.”