Forevermore (28 page)

A small laugh bubbled out of Hope. “Nobody could be grumpy around her for long. Always struck me as odd, how a woman by the last name of Gray could always be so sunny. If ’n I close my eyes, I can still see her sittin’ in her rockin’ chair a-wagglin’ her gnarly old finger at me.”

Perching his hands on his lean hips, Mr. Stauffer drawled, “Is that so? Stretches my imagination that she’d ever have to ask you to do anything. You pitch right in and are a hard worker. What did she scold you about?”

“My attitude.” Hope lifted her forefinger and imitated the action. “ ‘The Bible tells us in everything give thanks. It doesn’t say
for
everything; it says
in
everything. Don’t lie and tell God thanks when you’re not grateful. He wants you to look past the problem and find the scrap of good that’s there. God isn’t a fairy-tale genie who gives us everything we want; we have to lean hard on Him and trust He’ll work things out.’ ” Hope tucked her hand back in her apron pocket and smiled. “Them words of advice shore have sung in my heart over the years.”

“In everything give thanks,” he quoted slowly, thoughtfully. Brows shooting high on his forehead, Mr. Stauffer let out a disbelieving laugh. “I never noticed that. It really doesn’t say to give thanks for everything.”

“Neither did I—’til then. So Mrs. Gray set me to tryin’ to find something good in the midst of every little thing. It shore did turn my attitude round.”

“I’ll have to meditate on that verse.”

Annie came back outside, sat down, and picked up her sewing. They walked up the steps. Hope went to Annie’s side. “Oooh, Annie, that’s gotta be the most purdiest baby gown yet.”

Annie knotted the thread and snipped it. “It’s done. If it weren’t for Sydney’s sewing machine and all of your help, my baby would have to go naked.”

“We’ve had us some wonderful hours.” Hope turned to her boss. “Whilst we’ve been sewin’, Annie and me—we been workin’ on memorizing that psalm the parson preached on that first Sunday I came here. Annie’s got the sweetest readin’ voice.”

Annie fingered the tatted-edged sleeve so it laid straight. “We each have special verses in that psalm.”

“What are they?” Mr. Stauffer picked up the teensy gown and grinned at it.

Hope motioned for Annie to speak. Annie needed folks to put her first in line.

“I like verses two, three, and seven. ‘My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth, He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.’ And, ‘The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.’ ”

Jakob slowly laid the gown across what little remained of his sister’s lap. He tended to move slowly and deliberately around her, a point that won Hope’s admiration. Annie needed men who made her feel secure. Looking at his sister, he nodded. “Those verses are fitting indeed. I’ll learn them, too.” He turned. “Hope, what’s your verse?”

Annie set aside the gown and murmured, “Excuse me.” She went into the house. “Emmy-Lou, why don’t you come make a trip with me?” A moment later, the back screen door shut.

“What’s your verse?” Mr. Stauffer repeated.

“The last one in the chapter. ‘The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.’ What with me blowing along from pillar to post”— she flashed him a grin to let him know she’d remembered to say the old saw correctly—“it’s good to know He’ll be with me no matter where I go.”

Mr. Stauffer pondered a moment. “Ja, Hope, it is true. God will go with you. Thinking on that should give us both peace.”

The patter of little feet pounded up the back steps, the porch slammed shut, and Emmy-Lou came to the front door.

“Daddy!”

“I’ll come tuck you in, in a minute.”

“But Auntie Annie said she needs you right now.”

Twenty-Two

W
ait here.” Jakob set his daughter off to the side and ran through the house. Hope hadn’t hesitated. She was a few yards ahead, but by the time they reached the back door, he’d pulled up alongside her.

Manners dictated he open the door for her. Hope didn’t stand on propriety. She grabbed for the knob, too. Their fingers jammed into a knot. She yanked back, but the minute the screen door started to open, Hope pushed it wide open and ran to Annie.

Annie leaned against the garden fence. In the moonlight, a patch of moisture darkened the earth by her hem. Hope skidded to a stop, propped her hands on her hips, and stared at that patch. “Annie, you shore got an odd way of waterin’ the tomatoes.”

Hysterics. That’s what it had to be. No other explanation could cover why the women giggled.

“Phineas!” The moment he bellowed the hand’s name, Jakob wished he hadn’t. He should have urged Hope to take care of his sister and gone to the barn. Then he could have ridden off to Forsaken and gotten Velma. Instead, now he’d have to stay here. Unless Phineas didn’t hear—

“Honest to Pete, Annie, this brother of yours missed his calling. Why, he shoulda been marchin’ round Jericho with—” She laced her arm with Annie’s and started to escort her toward the house. “I can’t recollect which feller hollered and the walls come a-tumblin’ down. Who was that?”

“Joshua.” Annie made it up the back porch steps.

“Yeah. That’s the one! Jakob could holler again, and Velma would probably hear him, don’tcha think?” Jakob stared in amazement. Hope’s tone sounded playful, yet as she followed Annie inside, she feverishly swished her hand at him behind her back—an unmistakable gesture to hurry up.

Phineas came running. “What?”

“Annie’s in labor.”

Phineas shoved past him. “What are you standing there for? Go fetch Velma! Hope, move. Here, Annie. Let me help you.”

Jakob stood in the doorway and watched as Phineas gently lifted Annie into his arms and started carrying her up the stairs.

“Daddy”—Emmy-Lou stood on tiptoe over at the edge of the parlor where he’d told her to stay—“can I come with you?”

Hope clapped her hands. “That’s a dandy notion. You wait just a jiffy. I’ll go grab your nightgown and dolly, and you can trade. Velma will stay here tonight, and you can sleep in one of Mrs. Creighton’s purdy rooms. Tomorrow, you’ll come home, and your auntie will show you your new cousin!”

“Ja. That is how we’ll work it.” To Jakob’s relief, Big Tim Creighton and his wife were delighted to keep Emmy-Lou. Better still, Velma already had her doctoring bag packed— “Just in case.”

Riding home in the dark took half of forever.

“God blessed us with a bright moon. We made good time.”

Velma dismounted and didn’t bother to tether her mount.

Jakob looked at her—she didn’t look as if she were teasing. If she couldn’t tell time any better than that, would she be able to keep track of Annie’s contractions?

Phineas came down from the porch. “I’ll see to the horses.”

“Just hers.” Jakob led Nicodemus to the barn. As they tended the horses, he asked, “How’s Annie doing?”

“Laughing.” Phineas sounded as if he couldn’t decide whether to be disgusted or relieved.

“Laughing?”

“Hope thought it was taking too long for you to get home.

She got out that medical book and wanted me to read it.”

“Why didn’t she ask Annie?”

Phineas hefted the saddle and dumped it onto the stand. “She said the pictures would scare Annie. I told her Annie could look at the words, not the pictures.”

Hope’s big eyes probably shot fire at him
. It wasn’t right to make fun of Phineas, though. If Jakob hadn’t been reading to Hope these last few days, in the moment of impending crisis he might well have had the same reaction. “What was Annie doing?”

“Sitting on the top step, bundled in her robe, laughing. Laughing!”

Oh no. I was hoping they’d gotten beyond the shock by now
.
If they’re still having hysterics and it’s early on, how will they cope toward the end of the ordeal?
Jakob cleared his throat. “Does Hope have all the towels and dishcloths ready?”

“And water boiling. So there I am, holding that fat book, and Hope tells me where to find the information.”

“Gut. Sehr gut.” So it’s not so bad after all. Hope is seeing to the essentials. I should have had more faith in her. She’s level-headed
. “It makes sense that she asked you to read. I’ve been reading to her.”

Finally, a smile chased across Phineas’s face. “Ja. She told me childbirth went by a crazy name and I’d find it under ‘part-you’re-wishin’.”

“Part . . . ” Incredulous, Jakob shouted out a laugh.

“Parturition. Only Hope. Only Hope could—”

“Mangle it. Annie figured it out right away. She and Hope started giggling over it.”

“Better she laugh than cry.” Jakob scooped a few oats for the horses. “The day she arrived, Hope told Annie she’d pray for an easy birthing.”

“I’ve been praying for that, too.” All humor fled Phineas’s expression and voice. Clenching his fists at his side, he rasped, “A child should come to a home with loving parents.”

He’d had that same thought many times over. Jakob instilled every scrap of certainty into his voice that he’d used when he’d assured his sister, “The baby will not want for love.”

“I’ve been thinking.” Phineas leaned forward, his eyes half-wild and cheeks flushed. “To protect Annie and the baby—I could say the baby is mine. Konrad would denounce her, divorce her. She could stay here and—”

“Nein.”
Yet even after he gave the denial, Jakob felt tempted to accept Phineas’s plan. If it worked, Annie would be free of Konrad—but at what cost? “I cannot allow this. I won’t allow it.” Jakob shook his head. “You mean well, but it isn’t right.”

“Better Annie is freed from him and—”

“Be branded as an adulteress and divorcée?”

“I’d marry her.” Phineas half barked the words.

Jakob locked eyes with him. “You cannot right a wrong by committing another wrong act. In your mind, you think to rescue my sister; in your soul, you know this is wrong.”

“Why would God allow His daughter to marry such a bad man?”

“I don’t know. Just as I don’t understand why He took my son and wife.”

Phineas looked away. He dipped his head and let out a gusty sigh. “I won’t ever say anything around Annie. You won’t have to worry.”

“I have your word on this?” If he didn’t, Jakob knew he’d have to let his farmhand go. As badly as he needed Phineas’s help, he’d still sacrifice it.

“You have my oath.” Phineas spoke the words heavily. “Annie already bears an impossible burden. If you think it would make it harder on her, I won’t say anything.”

“That is the way it is.”

Phineas squared his shoulders. “So.”

“Ja,” Jakob echoed the single word that settled the matter and closed it forever. “So.”

They stayed in the barn and worked in silence. Myriad things wanted doing—another nail to reinforce a few places, a hook to hold a few odds and ends. They refilled the oat bin, filed and rasped rough edges on wooden surfaces, and oiled hinges. Phineas got out saddle soap, and they conditioned all of the leather.

Buffing his saddle, Jakob recalled when Naomi bore his children. Her mother had come to help, as had Velma. Naomi’s cries had filled the night; he had yet to hear Annie make a peep. After the baby came, he’d cradled Naomi and their newborn in his arms and blessed the Lord. The memory would have brought anguish a few months ago; now it was a cherished moment of his past.
I’ll make sure to do the same with my sister—to assure her that I see having her and her baby as blessings from the Lord
.

His stomach rumbled loudly.

“I’m hungry, too.” The men walked to the house. To Jakob’s surprise, Hope stood at the sink.

“Would you believe it?” Wisps of hair going every direction, the bib of her apron askew, she pumped water into a glass—well, she tried to. Her nervousness had the glass skittering all over. “I’m boiling all that water, and what does Annie want, but a glass of cool water!”

She’s scared
. A rush of gentleness sent Jakob to Hope’s side. He wrapped his hand around hers and stabilized the glass. “If we fill a bowl, you can dip a cloth in it to wipe her. Naomi liked that when her time came.”

“That’s a fine idea!” Together, they filled a turquoise earthenware bowl. Jakob had to steady her hands the whole while. As soon as they finished that simple task, Hope promptly went upstairs and forgot it.

“Are you going to take that water up to them?” Phineas opened the icebox and inspected the contents.

“No.”

“No?”

“It’ll give Hope an excuse to come back out. She’s rattled.”

Phineas shut the icebox without taking out a morsel of food.

“Hope’s never rattled. Something must be wrong.”

Hope’s not the only one who’s rattled
. “Stop fretting like an old hen. If anything were wrong, Velma would be hollering for help.”

Someone scurried down the stairs. Hope muttered, “Four legs, God. I thought you and me had a deal. I only help birthings when—” Her eyes widened and her words halted when she spotted the men.

“You came back for the bowl of water.” Jakob handed it to her.

“If ’n I was dead-level honest, I’d admit I’m sorely tempted to dash out the back door and keep on a-runnin’. If ’n Annie and Velma didn’t need me so much, I’d do just that, and don’t think I wouldn’t!”

“Hope—”

“I’m lily-livered.” She hung her head in shame. “You’ll never again in all your days see such a green-bellied coward.”

“Yellow-bellied,” Phineas corrected her.

Hope gasped as her head shot up. “Only drunken sots turn yellow, and I’m no sot, Phineas. If my friend didn’t need me so badly right now, I’d give you a piece of my mind.” She heaved a gigantic sigh. “But that wasn’t very nice of me. You’ll have to forgive me, and I’ll forgive you. We’re both worried sick about our Annie. When a body’s sick, they go green. Just you look in the mirror yonder, and you’ll see what I mean.” Hope whirled around and disappeared with the water bowl.

Studying Phineas, Jakob drawled slowly, “You are a little green around the gills.”