Forevermore (29 page)

“As long as I’m not yellow.” Phineas opened the cookie jar.

They sat out on the porch and ate every last cookie. The hours passed, but neither man budged. Finally, a squall echoed in the crisp predawn air. Jakob and Phineas exchanged big grins. “Whatever it is, it’s loud. Healthy.” Jakob leaned back in the chair and finally relaxed.

Phineas continued to rock. He’d done so all night. Jakob secretly marveled that the runners on the rocking chair hadn’t formed big ruts in the planks by now. He hadn’t said anything about it—Annie was a married woman, and any feelings Phineas held needed to be ignored.

“Your sister never said whether she wanted a boy or a girl.”

Jakob shrugged. “It’s God’s decision, not ours. A boy would be good—one to teach about the land. A girl would be sweet—to play with Emmy-Lou.”

“Timewise, I reckon this is good. Annie will have time to recover from the birth before—” Phineas stopped abruptly.

“Ja.” He’d had the same thought. But after the enchanting moments he’d spent with Hope and Emmy-Lou under the sycamore, Jakob knew he never wanted to be apart. How could he send Hope away? But how could he not? Protecting her and Annie and the baby—that had to come before any other consideration.

Drumming his fingers on the arm of the rocker, Phineas said, “What’s taking so long? Why don’t they tell us what’s going on? Do you think something went wrong?”

“Velma will have Hope bathe the baby; then it will need to be fed. These things take time.” Jakob acted calm, but deep inside he worried, too. To keep his mind occupied, he mused, “I haven’t decided what song to sing to the baby. You know I sang to Emmy-Lou and to Jakob, Jr. after Naomi had them.”

Phineas paced across the porch and wheeled back around. “What difference does it make? The baby won’t remember.”

“But the mother—she will. So what do you think? ‘Gracious Savior, Gentle Shepherd,’ or maybe ‘This Child We Dedicate to Thee’?”

Half singing, half murmuring the lyrics of the former, Phineas reached a part he spoke aloud. “ ‘Sweetly, gently, safely tended, from all want and danger free.’ No, no. That’s a bad choice. You don’t want to remind Annie her baby might be in danger.”

“So what about ‘This Child’?”

The farmhand rubbed the back of his neck. “How does that one go?”

“ ‘This child we dedicate to Thee, O God of grace and purity!’ ” Phineas hummed the tune and suddenly halted. Serving Jakob a withering look, he snapped, “It says, ‘shield it from sin and threatening wrong.’ Are you trying to scare her? Think of something else.”

“You’re the one who isn’t happy with my choices. What do you recommend?”

They got into a rousing debate. It took a few minutes of Velma tapping her foot on the floorboards to make them stop. “It’s about time! You can go up and see Annie and the baby, but make it a quick visit. She’s weary.”

“Is she—” Jakob began.

“Okay?” Phineas finished.

“Right as rain. That had to be the easiest birthing I ever tended. Baby’s a tad on the scrawny side, but that often happens when the mother’s heart is heavy.”

“Boy or girl?” Jakob asked.

“Boy. Annie’s frettin’ over what to name him. You go on up now.” Velma picked up a bundle of messy sheets and sauntered off.

Jakob blocked Phineas’s path to the door. “I’ll give Annie your best wishes. You’re not going up to see her.”

Phineas opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Grim determination lined his face. Without a word, he turned and headed toward the barn. The very intensity of his reaction told Jakob he’d made the right choice, but that knowledge didn’t make it any easier. Nonetheless, Annie’s welfare came first.

Hope would understand; they had a pact.

Annie sprang back with miraculous speed. “You can stop pampering me. I’m fine.” She hung on to Johnny instead of handing him to Hope. “I’ll change him.”

“Then the both of you can go nap.”

Emmy-Lou pushed her glasses up her nose. “Do you mean Auntie Annie and me, or Auntie Annie and baby Johnny?”

“Actually, it’s naptime for all three of you.” Hope wanted to get them all bedded down so she could see to a bunch of trifling chores. With Annie recovering so quickly, Hope knew she’d soon be hitching Hattie to the cart and going on her way.

Within the next week, Hope would cut a small star from the scrap of yellow satin she kept in her sewing bag. Stitching the star on her quilt had become a ritual for her—she did it the last night she spent at a place. Stars were tricky things to sew. All the points on them required attention, or they’d fray. By the time she’d appliquéd the star in place, Hope would have finished praying for each member of the family she’d stayed to help. For a while, the Almighty Creator who hung the stars in the heavens had entrusted that family to her—it was her way of giving them back into His keeping and care.

Only she didn’t feel ready to do that just yet. Her head told her the time was drawing nigh; her heart didn’t.

“I ought to stay up and help you with chores.”

Hope reached over and gently fingered Johnny’s scant strands of sand-colored hair. “Today’s a scorcher. No use in you staying up—anything important that needs doing can be done closer to sundown. Go have yourself a nice little lay-down.”

Emmy-Lou nestled next to Hope and copied how she’d caressed the baby. “I’ll help you sing and rock the baby to sleep.”

“Just one verse.” Annie winked at Hope. Emmy-Lou adored her cousin. Given the opportunity, she’d sing every verse of every song she knew.

Pursing her little lips, Emmy-Lou thought for a moment. “I already sang the first part of ‘Jesus Loves Me’ for his morning naptime. I should sing the next verse.”

“Okay, but shuck your shoes so’s I can polish ’em up for church tomorrow. You, too, Annie. I’ll hold the little feller for you whilst you unlace them.”

Minutes later, as Annie held Emmy-Lou’s hand and carried Johnny upstairs, Hope bit her lip and turned away.
I’m being silly, God. You sent me here to set this family back on its feet. I ought to be a-praisin’ you for all you done here. Ain’t been a place yet where you sent me that I didn’t enjoy myself. Lotsa folks out there need help, and I promised you I’d go wherever you took a mind to send me. It’s gonna be different leavin’ this time—maybe ’cuz of little Emmy-Lou’s eyesight or on account of how I helped out when Johnny was born. Then too, I ain’t never made a pact with none of my bosses. Jakob and me—we worked together. We worked real good together. Annie don’t jump at shadows no more. She’s gettin’ to the point where she can run Jakob’s home. He don’t need my help no more
.

She pulled the laces from the shoes. No use polishing shoes and having dirty laces.

Emmy-Lou started singing, “
Jesus loves me! This I know . . .”

Hope found herself singing along,

“As He loved so long ago,
Taking children on His knee,
Saying, ‘Let them come to Me.’ ”

Let them come to me
. The lyrics hit her. “You’re trying to pound somethin’ into my thick head, aren’t you, God? Them kids belong to you. I’m supposed to let go of ’em and trust you.”

The lyrics echoed in her mind again and again. She’d never known that little song had another verse—not until Jakob sat on the edge of Annie’s bed after she’d had the baby. Radiating kindness, he’d assured himself that his sister was fine and admired her newborn son. Hope was on her way out the door to give them some private time—but Jakob called to her and patted the mattress.

“We have a custom. Come join us.”

As the dawn of a new day broke, he’d blessed the Lord for the gift of the baby, then sang those tender words of Jesus’ love to the child.

The memory sent chills up and down Hope’s back. With the Lord’s provision and Jakob’s constancy, Annie and the children would thrive here.
Let them come to me
.

She looked around. The house was in order. Jar upon jar of food filled the pantry to overflowing. Through gleaming windows, Hope could see Sunday-best clothes hanging on the line, ready to be ironed. A bouquet of roses on the table proved even the once-scraggly bush out front now flourished.

“It don’t make sense, God. Everything’s in order. Why don’t it all seem right to me?”

No answer came.

Hope washed the shoelaces, polished the shoes, and started to iron the clothes for church. Her dress came last—the new one. So Emmy-Lou could see her better, Hope had taken to wearing her green dress every day. The breathtakingly beautiful material Jakob gave her had become her Sunday-best.

Annie came downstairs. “I thought we were going to wait until sundown to do the hot chores.”

Hope slid the iron back and forth. “I got to talkin’ to God and just kept busy.”

“I’ll start supper. I thought maybe
kasenophla
. What do you think?”

Cheese buttons. Normally, Hope’s mouth would water at the suggestion. She shrugged. “I’m not hungry for much of anything. Emmy-Lou and Phineas love ’em, so it’ll make them happy.”

Annie slanted her a funny look. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just porcupined.”

“Porcupined?”

“Yup.” Hope clunked the iron back onto the stove. “You know—busy with a bunch of prickly thoughts.”

“Preoccupied.” Annie immediately pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to correct you.”

At times like this, Annie’s confidence evaporated and she went back to looking scared. Hope waved her hand dismissively.

“You’re my friend. You wouldn’t never make fun of me. Your word sounds right, but mine makes more sense to me.”

Annie dropped her hand and relief eased her features. “It does to me, too.”

“When I took the eggs and milk to town on Wednesday, Mr. Clark at the mercantile called possums ‘opossums.’ All I could think was that made ’em sound like they was Irish. Think he calls porcupines ‘oporcupines’?”

Annie’s eyes sparkled. “Irish? Oh, Hope, I never thought of it before, but you’re right. ‘Opossum’ is the correct name, but almost no one says it that way. What made him mention possums, anyway?”

“He said a coupla farms were short on eggs. I reckon it’s more likely to be coyotes and snakes. That’s why I’ve been askin’ Emmy-Lou to help y’all with the baby whilst I gather eggs. I’m afraid she might not see a snake if ’n one was there.”

Annie’s eyes grew huge. “Merciful heavens! I hadn’t thought about that!”

“It ain’t my place to say nothin’, but whilst we’re talking about eggs . . . I know your brother’s dearly departed wife loved her Dominiques, but them hens lay brown eggs. It’d be awful nice if ’n he switched over next spring to hens what lay white eggs. Thataway, Emmy-Lou can help out. It’s important for her to do as much as she can.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” a deep voice sounded.

“Oh!” Hope jumped and whirled around to find Mr. Stauffer leaning against the kitchen windowsill. Heart thundering, Hope waggled her finger at him. “You like to scared me straight outta my skin. I reckon y’all got what you got right now, but come next spring, maybe you could send away for some of them railroad-delivered chicks I told y’all about.”

“In the meantime,” he said, “we can trade hens with some of the other farmers’ wives.”

“Lena Patterson planned to have a sewing day where we all swapped feed sacks. It’ll probably be this next week.” Annie shrugged diffidently. “If we say something tomorrow at church, then we can swap chickens at the sewing bee. That is, unless you think it’s wrong, talking about business on Sunday.”

“I wouldn’t count it as business any more than arranging the bee. No one’s paying money or making a profit.” Jakob stepped back from the window and scowled at Hope. “Don’t you ever hesitate to talk to me about Emmy-Lou.”

Hope felt Annie tense. Irritated that Jakob hadn’t been mindful of his sister’s sensitivity, Hope folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t you ever go sneakin’ up on me or eavesdropping. Serves you right, not likin’ what you overheard. You cooked your goose, so go lie in it.” She winced. “No, that’s not how the saying goes.” She thought for a moment. “You made your bed, now go tell lies about it.”

Even from the distance between them, Hope saw his smirk. She shook her finger. “You’re nothing but a rascal. You got me riled, and now I can’t remember—oh, now I do.” She straightened up and smoothed her apron. “ ‘What’s sauce for the goose will get up her dander.’ ”

A boyish grin tilted his mouth. He paused and looked at her through the screen. Even through the mesh, she saw the amused twinkle in his eyes. “Did I get up your dander, Hope?”

She turned to Annie. “I ain’t gonna answer that, ’cuz if ’n I do, I’m admittin’ to being a goose.”

Giggles bubbled out of Annie, and Jakob belted out a rich laugh. He took off his summer straw hat and fanned himself. “Geese are silly creatures. You, Hope, would never be a goose.”

Did he mean that as a compliment, or does he think I’m—
Hope covered her eyes for a moment. All of this nonsense was making her head ache. When she looked again, Jakob was studying her as if she needed close watching. “Did y’all want something, or are you up to no good?”

Annie gasped again.

Hope patted her on the arm. “Stop frettin’. That brother of yours is harmless as a well-fed hound. Since you and me’re the ones what feed him, he’s likely to . . .” Hope looked back at him and forgot what she was going to say. These last days, just being around him sent her into a dither.

“Ask for a carrot,” he inserted. “Nicodemus and Josephine deserve a treat. Hattie too.”

“You don’t have to ask for carrots.” Annie bustled over to get them.

“Ja, I do. My boots are filthy. I know better than to step foot in the house right now.” He waggled his brows. “Annie, remember the time Mama boxed my ears for that?”

“I’d forgotten.”

He chuckled ruefully. “I didn’t.”

Hope could imagine Jakob as a boy, being scolded and looking sheepish. He’d probably been a handful. “So your ma had some spunk, huh?”

“Ja.” Jakob went around to the back porch for the carrots. Though Annie went to hand them over, Jakob called, “Hope?”