Forevermore (3 page)

Annie looked terror-stricken. “I’ll do it, Jakob. I—I should have taken them up sooner.”

Annie needs to see I’m willing to pitch in—that I’m not like Konrad and won’t lose my temper.
“You’re helping Emmy-Lou. I’ll take care of this.”

“Mind your steps once you get to the upstairs hallway.” Miss Ladley turned back toward the stove and said over her shoulder, “We threw a rug over a floorboard ’cuz the nail took a mind to pop up its head and look around. After supper, I’ll take a skillet and pound it back in place.”

Jakob’s guilt, doubts, and worries mounted as he climbed the stairs. He’d seen that nail and forgotten about it.
I should have taken care of it.
But he feared Annie or Emmy-Lou could slip on the rug. Annie needed assistance since she’d grown heavy with child, and she certainly needed dawn-to-dark help during the harvesting and canning. Miss Ladley seemed busy enough, but she apparently didn’t finish anything. His mind ticked off what chores he’d seen her abandon only partway through the job . . . laundry, window washing, ironing, and canning.
I’ll bet her cookies are only half-baked, too.

But the only alternative he could come up with was to hire two of the Richardson girls. They were capable farm gals who knew what to do, and they’d gotten better about not blurting out the first thing that crossed their minds—thanks to Tim Creighton’s wife’s lessons. But the Richardson girls were far more interested in catching a husband than in cooking and cleaning. Jakob hung the dresses in the armoire and suppressed a groan. He’d rather suffer an invasion of locusts than fend off those girls after they got the mistaken notion that this was a bridal interview instead of temporary help.

With twenty-three letters, this Hope Ladley has wanderlust. I won’t have to trouble myself over her making matrimonial plots.
He went to his bedchamber and strode past the bed without looking at it. Glimpses of the wedding-ring quilt Naomi had so lovingly made while they were courting brought memories he couldn’t entertain right now. He hung his shirt on the knob to his armoire. Even a year and four months after he’d lost her, opening the armoire hurt—the empty space inside drove home that she was gone. No one could ever fill the void in his heart and life. No one. In that respect, Hope Ladley was probably the best candidate for the helping out around here. Unlike the Richardson girls, she’d wander on to the next town when her work was done.

Organization had been Naomi’s gift. She could put anything into order and keep it that way, and their home had always been a haven. Since her death, the household had been chaotic, the inner turmoil Jakob suffered matching the disarray surrounding him. He craved the serenity he’d once known—but Naomi was gone. If the housekeeper could bring things back to order, that would help a little.

Phineas shouted, “I’m going to say grace and start eating all on my lonesome if you don’t shake a leg!”

“Coming.” As Jakob descended the stairs, he overheard Hope telling a story about somewhere else she’d been.

“No doubt about it,” Miss Ladley said, “that Latimer boy ain’t gonna try a crazy stunt like that again!”

Phineas belted out a laugh, but Jakob’s blood ran cold. What if she left here and talked? One slip of her tongue, and all would be lost.

Two

I
can’t decide whether supper smells better than it looks.” Phineas stared at the food.

I “I reckon how it tastes is most important.” Miss Ladley put a large pot of water on the stove.

Cucumber salad and watermelon on the table looked cool and refreshing. A steaming gravy boat sat near Jakob’s place. Shepherd’s pie with the mashed potatoes crust baked just the way he liked it—not pale golden brown, but deep, dark crispy brown . . . just the way Naomi always made it. Suddenly Jakob’s appetite fled.

“ ’Tis easier for me to hop up from the table, Mrs. Erickson. Do you mind if’n I take that seat there?”

“No . . . I . . . no, not at all.”

Jakob seated his sister while Miss Ladley took the spot on the other side of his daughter, closest to the stove. Phineas scooted in her chair. “Thankee kindly,” she said.

Multiple thoughts spun through Jakob’s head—but if he prayed, he might speak them aloud and make matters worse.

“Phineas, go on and ask the blessing.” Jakob folded his hands and bowed his head.

Phineas said grace. As soon as he said amen, Emmy-Lou drew in a breath and plunged into the prayer she’d been taught.
“Komm, Herr Jesu, sei unser Gast, und segne, was Du uns bescheret hast. Amen.”

“Nice to hear a young’un talkin’ to the Almighty.” Miss Ladley gently tucked one of Emmy-Lou’s pale blond curls behind her ear. “That was the first prayer my mama taught me.”

“Auf Deutsch?”
Phineas looked as surprised as Jakob felt.

“Nope.” Miss Ladley scooped a tiny serving of cucumber salad onto Emmy-Lou’s plate. “I learnt it in English. It rhymes thataway, too. ‘Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest and may these gifts to us be blest.’ Ain’t it something, how the love of God don’t depend on the words of man? The feelin’s the same, no matter whate’er tongue you use.”

“I only got one.” Emmy-Lou opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

“And you used it to thank Jesus. God loves a cheerful heart. I’m shore He must be a-sittin’ on His throne in heaven, just a-smilin’ down on you right this very minute.”

Miss Ladley neither laughed at nor scolded his daughter for her action. Emmy-Lou befriended everyone, but it did Jakob’s heart good to see how Miss Ladley took note of her pure intent. Emmy-Lou beamed back at her.

Miss Ladley lifted her chin toward Annie. “You got the server o’er by you, ma’am. The menfolk are lookin’ hungry as can be.”

Annie’s gaze dropped along with her voice. “You prepared the meal.”

“Nonsense! You peeled the ’tatoes and onion. Cut ’em up, too. The meat we used—I bet you put that up when one of them fine cows of yours got butchered.”

“Ja, she did.” Jakob picked up his plate, stuck it out, and waggled it a little at his sister. “Smells great. Let’s eat.” Even if Miss Ladley jumped from one chore to another like a mindless grasshopper, she treated his sister and daughter well. That counted for a lot.
I’ll get Annie alone for a few minutes and see what she thinks. It’s hard for her to make up her mind about things, so I’ll have to be sure to let her know I can let Hope go anytime if Annie feels things aren’t working out or if she feels too uncomfortable around the housekeeper.

Assuming Annie says it’s okay, I’ll ask Miss Ladley to stay. But someone with her recommendations—she might charge more than I can afford.
Money was tight. Jakob mentally juggled finances and tried to find ways to scrape together an offer she’d accept.

Emmy-Lou jabbered during the meal. Phineas teased her by saying a few things about Milky, yet he refused to answer her questions. Miss Ladley popped up from the table to grab the coffeepot and refill their mugs, and she subtly scooted Emmy-Lou’s cup so it wouldn’t get knocked over. Suddenly a trill of laughter flowed out of her. “Mr. Phineas, you got me ev’ry bit as curious as Emmy-Lou ’bout that litter.”

“When your daddy was a boy,” Annie said softly, “he had a gray striped cat that followed him like a dog.”

Her comment took Jakob by surprise. Timid as she was, she didn’t tend to say more than she had to. Was she talking because she was nervous around Miss Ladley, or because Miss Ladley made her feel . . . safer? More comfortable? Jakob gave his sister a smile and bobbed his head. “That is true. That cat—he got me into big trouble.”

“He did?” Emmy-Lou’s eyes grew huge.

“We had a big old cottonwood by our house. In the summer when it was hot, I’d leave my window open. Fleck—I named him that because he was gray with a black smear down his back and
Fleck
means smudge—Fleck climbed the tree, jumped to the house, and curled up at the foot of my bed. Mama or Dad would find him there.” He shook his head. “They said even if he didn’t know better, I did.”

Phineas cleared his throat and eyed the shepherds’ pie.

“I’m sorry. I should have offered you more. Here.” Annie hurriedly gave him a third serving, then held the server over the last of the shepherd’s pie. “Jakob?”

He accepted with alacrity.

Once he took the first bite, Emmy-Lou said in a tearful tone, “It’s all gone and I wanted more.”

“Here.” He shoveled his fork under a hefty bite.

“Hold your horses.” Miss Ladley tipped her head down and asked in a loud whisper, “Did you remember to save room for a cookie?”

“I forgot.” Emmy-Lou sat up straighter. “Daddy, I’m almost all full-up.”

Annie sighed softly. “I’ll be sure to give you more next time.”

“Okay.” Emmy-Lou held up two fingers. “Daddy, they made two of those. I helped carry the other one out to the springhouse.”

Knowing there’d be another of these fine dinners didn’t disappoint him in the least. Jakob smiled at his daughter. “It is
gut,
you helping.”

“Emmy-Lou’s a good weeder, too.” Miss Ladley picked up a wedge of watermelon. “Your daughter’s a fine worker.”

A few minutes later, Jakob looked about the table. Every last plate was clean—even Annie’s, which didn’t happen often. A small thread of relief darted through him. She didn’t eat much at mealtime, and as far as he could tell, she didn’t nibble all day long the way Naomi had when she was expecting. When Naomi had only a month to go, she’d needed to leave some of her buttons open beneath the cover of her apron; Annie’s belly bulged, but not with the same abundance that bespoke a fat, healthy child. If he hired Miss Ladley, maybe she could coax Annie into eating more.

“Jakob?” Phineas gave him a questioning look.

Miss Ladley glanced over Emmy-Lou’s head. “Some of the families I helped just say grace before the meal. Others, they go before and after. What about you?”

“Both.” He bowed his head and mentally translated so Miss Ladley would be able to share the prayer in English. “Our hearts are grateful, you have satisfied us now. Let us in work, joy, and pains rest in your love! Amen.”

Miss Ladley didn’t raise her head. She kept her eyes closed and whispered, “If’n y’all don’t mind, I’d feel better if you said it together the way you normally do.”

“But Daddy said it funny. I don’t know it that way,” Emmy-Lou piped up.

Miss Ladley reached over and curled her hand about Emmy-Lou’s.
“Dankbar sind Dir unsere Herzen . . .”

They all joined in once she started. Afterward, Miss Ladley stacked the dishes. “I don’t come to change things. I just come to help out.”

Jakob shot his sister a questioning look. Annie chewed on her lip and said nothing. That action tattled, though. She was unsure.

“You surprised me.” Phineas chuckled. “I’ve never heard German spoken in that accent, though.”

“It’s ’cuz she has two tongues. I only got one.” Emmy-Lou stuck hers out again. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “When I grow up, will I grow another one?”

“They don’t mean what you have in your mouth,
Liebling,
” Jakob explained. “Tongue also means speaking another language.”

“Oh.” Emmy-Lou looked disappointed.

“There’s a hymn from a man what wisht he had a thousand tongues.” Miss Ladley carried dishes to the sink. “He said he’d use ’em all to praise God.”

“He’d look silly.” Phineas grabbed a cookie.

“He’d sound grand, don’t you think, Mrs. Erickson?”

Annie nodded. “I suppose so.” She started toward the sink with more dishes.

Miss Ladley took them from her. “That niece of yours—she’s been itching to go see them kitties. How ’bout you grabbing cookies and taggin’ ’long? Emmy-Lou, you want your auntie to see Milky’s litter, don’t you?”

“Yeah!”

“The dishes—” Annie protested.

“I’d like a cookie, too, Annie.” Jakob beckoned her. He wanted one last chance to make sure she’d be happy if this woman stayed—if she did, then he’d see if Miss Hope Ladley would agree to what he offered and with the conditions he set.

Hope slipped the last plate into the cupboard as she heard them returning, grateful she’d finished the dishes before Mrs. Erickson got back. The poor woman looked like a wrung-out mop. Throughout the day, Hope witnessed how little it took to tucker her out. Mr. Stauffer now wore the look of a man determined about something—only Hope couldn’t be sure whether he intended to hire her or send her packing. Well, even if he sent her packing, then God had allowed her one day’s worth of helping out a nice lady.

The door opened, and Mrs. Erickson gasped. “You’ve done all of the dishes!”

“There wasn’t many. ’Member how we already done that bunch after we made the shepherd’s pies? So what about them kitties?”

“There are five!” Emmy-Lou clapped her hands delightedly. “Milky is hiding with them.”

“And you are to leave her alone.” Mr. Stauffer tilted his daughter’s shining face up toward his. “New mamas don’t like everyone to bother their babies.”

“So when Milky’s babies get bigger, can I hold them?”

Mr. Stauffer cleared his throat. “We won’t keep all of them. One. I’ll let you keep one.”

“Do I getta pick which one?”

Hope glanced out the window. She’d forgotten the few things fluttering on the line. “I’d best bring them things in. They oughtta be dry by now.”

Emmy-Lou piped up, “I’ll come with you.”

Mr. Stauffer rested his hand on Emmy-Lou’s shoulder. “
Nein
. You will stay in the house.”

Guess that’s my answer. If’n he wanted to keep me on, he wouldn’t mind his little girl skippin’ ’long. Well, Lord, I’ll trust you to show me where to go next.
Hope draped the dishcloth over a dowel to dry and walked out the back door.

She’d hung her own quilt out to air. First off, she’d fold it up and put it in her cart. Afterward she’d take down the other things, carry in the wicker laundry basket, and say good-bye. Leaving the crazy quilt on the line, she took one side and folded it toward the other. Once again, she folded it, then lifted and dragged the warm, thick piece off the line.