Forevermore (32 page)

Using just his right hand, he splashed the water on his face. A critical look in the mirror told him he ought to pay a visit to the barber—he was long overdue for a haircut, and he’d given up shaving months ago. It saved him a lot of time and trouble—but having the barber trim his beard would make a good impression. If it weren’t Sunday, he’d go have it done now. No. He’d wait another week and a half. A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. It would be a good sign to everyone back home that he was going to fetch his wife.

He needed Annie home to cook for the threshing. She’d been gone for reaping, but having her there for the threshing would make folks believe everything was fine. And it would be fine. In fact, Annie had missed him. He could tell, because when he’d told her to give Jakob’s wife the kid and come to him, she’d obeyed. The old saying proved true: Absence made her heart grow fonder.

Threshing followed anywhere from ten days to five weeks after reaping. Since the wheat had been mostly ripe, it was best to thresh it quickly, else he’d lose yield. Two weeks would be okay. No more than that, though. He’d come back in exactly two weeks. Annie would be expecting him, and she’d be packed and ready. They’d get home on Monday, and he’d arrange to have their farm threshed on Tuesday. No, Wednesday. That way she’d have a day to bake. Volkner made a point of saying how she’d baked for Jakob’s harvest hands. Well, folks would talk of how she’d returned and settled right in and done him proud.

Everyone loved it when the thresher arrived—its steam engine could be heard from far away and the loud chugging built up a sense of anticipation. It would be a good welcome for her. The pleasure on Annie’s face would put to rest any of his neighbors’ suspicions.

Twenty-Six

C
reighton.” Jakob shook his neighbor’s hand.

Phineas inhaled deeply. “Something smells good!”

“Ribs. Barbecued them myself.” Tim hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and looked downright smug. “I’ve got news. Good news. You can scrap your plans.”

“Konrad’s dead?” Phineas looked delighted.

“No, but almost as good.” Tim nudged Jakob. “You gave me great information. It made all the difference. Instead of sending the women away, you’re going to be sending Konrad off. Permanently. Let me explain. . . .”

“You can stop hovering. I’m healthy as a mule.” Hope gave Jakob a wry look. Annie was in the parlor, nursing Johnny after she’d put Emmy-Lou to bed. A symphony of crickets had lured Hope out to the back porch, but Jakob insisted on escorting her as if she were a tottering old crone.

“What are you making?”

She pulled out her crochet and carefully held up the piece so she wouldn’t undo anything. “An apron. I’m almost done.”

“It’s not very practical. Not very big, either. Are you . . .” Jakob’s voice died out, and he clamped his jaw shut.

“It’s for Emmy-Lou.”

His eyes flashed. “How could you do this? She won’t be able to cook by herself.”

“No child can. She’s good at dumping things in a bowl, stirring, and loves to lick the spoon afterward.”

Jakob shook his head slowly. Deep worry lines plowed his forehead. “It’s not right to do that to her, Hope. Emmy-Lou must learn that she’s different. If you let her think she can do these things, when the time comes that she can’t, it will be a bigger disappointment.”

They’d danced around this issue more than a few times.
Lord, he’s worryin’ about his daughter not seein’, but he’s blind to the truth.

Can’t you open his eyes?
Hope waited for a moment. Nothing within her warned her to stay silent.
God, I’m takin’ that as a sign that it’s time to speak my piece
.

“You and me—we’re lookin’ at it different. You don’t want her to have anything that might be taken away later. Me? I think the more she has now, the better she’ll be at livin’ life to the fullest later. Time might come when she goes blind—but because she knows her colors, you can paint her a picture with words, and she’ll see the sunrise anyway.”

“That’s different than cooking.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Hope leaned toward him. “I was thinking—the measuring spoons and cups. You could use a nail and tap dents on each of ’em so’s she’d know which was what. And she’ll know by the size of the canisters what’s inside. Thataway, she can do quite a bit in the kitchen.

“I was thinkin’ on it last night. I don’t look at my hands whilst I shell peas or beans. I look at Annie or at the sunset or watch one of the dogs chase Milky. If ’n you watch your sis when she rolls out pie dough, you’ll see she don’t stare at it.”

Her boss didn’t say anything. Then again, he didn’t argue with her. That had to be a good sign.

She let out a small laugh. “As a matter of fact, lookee here. We’ve been talkin’, and I didn’t even look down, but my crochet hook’s dippin’, twistin’, and loopin’.”

Jakob looked at the piece in her lap.

“Mr. Stauffer, sir—”

“Jakob,” he corrected her.

Hope spared him a quick smile. “Jakob, I love your little girl. I think she’s the dearest gal God ever made, and I wouldn’t never do nothin’ to hurt her. You’re a man. You don’t know what it takes to be a woman. Little girls learn plenty in their tender years. If ’n Emmy-Lou learns a heap of things now, she’ll be more productive later.”

“So this apron—it is a sign to her that she will cook and do handiwork? But that isn’t honest.”

“Sure it is. No one can do everything. Me? I can’t read, and I still have a good life. I have to depend on others—but I reckon that was God’s plan.”

“The body of believers . . .” he mused. “That is what you’re talking about.”

She stared at her hook as she continued to work. Though he’d finally understood, Hope didn’t feel victorious. She swallowed.

“I’ll be leavin’, but when I do, I wanna have left Emmy-Lou with the stars in her hands, the colors in her mind, and the knowledge that she can still be a happy, worthwhile person.”

“You’re not leaving!”

Hope hitched her shoulder.

“We have an agreement.” His voice came out in a forceful whisper. “You would stay for Annie’s sake. Now, more than ever, she needs you.”

Relief knotted the hole in her heart just as completely as the crochet thread wound and hooked into place. “I wasn’t shore how you felt. While I was ailin’, them two weeks after Johnny was born came to a close. Fact is, that night I fell sick, I know you was gonna tell me ’twas time for me to head out.”

He gave her an odd look. “In a manner of speaking, perhaps.”

Her heart plummeted.
Jakob doesn’t want me.
The air burned in her lungs.
I said I wasn’t shore how he felt, and he told me. I’m good for Annie. That’s all. I’d hoped . . . well, dunno what I expected.

I’m bein’ silly after bein’ under the weather.

“But you’ll stay.” He phrased it as a statement, not a question.

Looking down at her crocheting, Hope bit her lip and nodded. “Like you said, we have a pact to help your sis. Long as you feel that me stayin’ here protects her from that snake, I’ll stay on.”

Relief resounded in the gush of his exhalation.

In everything give thanks. I gotta stop thinkin’ on myself and see all the good that the Lord’s doin’
. Hope looked at her boss. He loved his kin with a fierceness and gentleness that touched her. Annie and Emmy-Lou would be okay with him as the head of the home.

“You’re needed here, Hope. You’re wanted and appreciated, too. I don’t know how you think we’ll get along without you.”

“Don’t go countin’ your eggs before you lay ’em.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounded silly. Roosters don’t lay eggs. Well, don’t go a-borrowin’ troubles.”

“I’ve got enough as it is. We have five more days before Konrad returns.” Jakob shot a look over his shoulder at the house, then scooted his chair a little closer. His voice dropped to a bare murmur. “Tim Creighton has a friend who’s an attorney.

He’s written up a contract I’m going to offer Konrad. I’ll sell the farm up north and give him all the money as long as he agrees to leave the country and never contact Annie again.”

Taking her cue, she whispered back, “But what’s to keep him from takin’ the money and going back on his word?” The ball of crochet string started to roll off her lap. She grabbed for it and looked back at Jakob. “I’d sooner trust a rabid coyote.”

“He’s worse.” Still keeping his voice muted, Jakob said, “Often, Konrad has said he wishes he’d stayed in Germany. The money would be enough for him to return there. There is a place called Ellis Island in New York. Very soon, all immigrants will have to come through there. You didn’t see Konrad for long, so you might not have noticed, but he’s missing fingers.” Jakob held up his left hand and wrapped his right fingers around the last two left fingers.

Dreadful as she’d felt, Hope hadn’t noticed very much when Konrad had been there. “I don’t recollect seeing his hand.”

“He’s ashamed of it and moves carefully so people won’t notice. Even so, the fingers are missing. It never made any difference to me, but now I’m glad those fingers are gone.”

Hope looked at him in surprise. “It’s not like you to be that way.”

Jakob met her gaze without any hesitation. “There are new laws. Anyone with a deformity that might render them less capable of working so they could become a public liability won’t be permitted entry to America. Even if Konrad decides to come back, when they’d process him at Ellis Island, they will notice his hand. He could claim he can work well, but there are many places where thieves’ fingers or hands are cut off. The immigration law denies entry to anyone suspected of moral turpitude. Either way, he would be sent back to Germany.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

“Annie doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell you first. You give her such comfort and confidence, Hope. When I tell her, I want you there so you can reassure her.”

“It’s powerful nice of you to say that, but I know what Annie’s gonna ask. What if Konrad won’t sign the contract?”

“He’s greedy. He will.”

Setting aside her crocheting, Hope leaned toward him. “Mr. Stauffer . . .”

He leaned in, too. “How many times must I tell you to call me Jakob, Hope?”

She couldn’t keep a smile from gracing her lips before becoming solemn once more. “Jakob, I seen the way he looked at your sis. That man ain’t gonna be reasonable. He’d double cross the devil if ’n he could. Annie’s feelin’s already jump up and down like a cricket. I don’t mean to tell you your business
. . .
Well, maybe I do. But I don’t think y’all ought to tell Annie nothin’ ’til it’s a done deal and that polecat’s halfway ’cross the ocean.”

Studying her intently, Jakob said nothing. He compressed his lips for a moment, then nodded. “Ja. I think you’re right. You’ve done so much for my sister, Hope. I’m grateful. She needed you. We all did and still do.”

Since the secretive discussion was over, Hope decided to revert back to normal volume—that way Annie wouldn’t suspect anything. “It’s gone both ways. It’s been a pure pleasure workin’ for you, and all y’all spoilt me rotten when I took sick.”

“We worried about you.”

“I ’member you prayin’ over me.” More than once, dreadful as she’d felt, Hope recalled opening her eyes and seeing Jakob kneeling by her cot. Never before had a man quietly, persistently petitioned heaven on her behalf. Knowing he’d done so touched her deeply.
Maybe that’s why I got me these warm feelin’s about him.

“
Ja,
we prayed. Annie and I decided if your fever didn’t break soon, we’d cut your hair in hopes of conserving what little life force you had left so you might recover.” His gaze raised ever so slightly; then, with just a fingertip, he touched a wisp of hair at her temple. The tenderness of his action made her long to tilt her head and rest into the warmth and strength of his callused palm. Not knowing the flood of feelings his simple, kind gesture triggered, Jakob continued speaking. “I’m glad we didn’t have to resort to using Annie’s sewing shears. Anything to spare your life would have been worth it, but cutting your hair would be such a shame. Your hair is your crowning glory.”

Unsure of how to respond, Hope picked up her crochet hook again. His words pleased her immensely. She’d never really much cared what men thought of her looks. As long as she was clean and modest, that was good enough—but hearing Jakob praise her hair, well, it sent warmth streaking through her heart.

I’ve gotta get aholt of myself. I’m gonna end up being just like Linette Richardson if ’n I don’t watch out. Ain’t fittin’ for a woman to go all moon-eyed over a man just because he treats her well.
She cleared her throat. “Emmy-Lou’s hair’s got quite a bit of curl to it. Was it like that afore her fever when you cut it?”

It took a full minute or more before Jakob answered, “No. It was straight.”

I was rude not to thank him for the compliment, but I don’t want him thinkin’ I’m setting my cap to reel him in. Onliest thing I’m hookin’ is this here apron for his little girl.
“Y’all did take fine care of me. Velma came over this mornin’ with the sad news of Mr. Vaughn. Such a pity. God must have wanted him awful bad to take him away from a wife and that passel of kids.”

“You probably got the fever from him that day you went to town with the eggs and milk. I shouldn’t have asked you to pick up chicken feed.”

“Nonsense.” Hope curled the crochet string around her pinkie. “Plenty of folks have bought feed from his store and not taken sick.”

Jakob was silent for a moment. “Knowing he didn’t make it makes me even more thankful God spared you.”

Hooking the ecru-colored crochet string in and out, in and out was calming. “I reckon God ain’t done sendin’ me where folks need a helpin’ hand.”

“He sent you here.”

“That He did.”
I just don’t know when you’ll be finished with me and sendin’ me on my way.
The thought of eventually leaving dragged at her, so Hope decided to change the topic. “Do y’all think your sis might have five or six little tiny buttons I can put on the back of this?”