Authors: Janette Oke
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - General, #General & Literary Fiction, #Modern fiction, #Large Print
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Marty fluttered about the kitchen. She remembered an old secret of her ma's. If your menfolk come looking for their supper and you are caught off guard, quickly set the table. That will make them think that supper is on the way.
In a mad flurry, Marty hastened to throw on the plates and cutlery. Then she flushed at her foolishness. That wouldn't fool Clark. He had a good forty minutes of choring ahead and wouldn't be looking for plates on yet. A stove with a fire in it might be a bit more convincing. When Clark came in, Marty was building the fire and wondering what she could have ready for supper in a little more than half an hour.
After depositing his armload of purchases, Clark went back out to do the chores and Marty set to work in earnest preparing the supper.
When Clark returned from the barn the meal was ready, simple though it was. Marty made no apology. After all, she told herself, it wasn't as though she had loafed away the whole day. Nevertheless, she promised herself to never let it happen again.
After the supper dishes had been cleared away, Clark brought forth his purchases for Missie. She went wild in her excitement, hugging the new shoes, jumping up and down about the new coat and bonnet, and running around in circles, waving the new long stockings in the air. She exclaimed over the material to be sewn into little frocks, but Marty was sure that the tiny child didn't really understand what it was all about. She returned to the shoes, pulled her bonnet on her head, back to front, and whirled another long stocking. Marty couldn't help but smile, knowing how the little girl felt.
Suddenly Missie turned and headed for the bedroom, a pair of the new stockings streaming out behind her. She's going to put them in her chest, Marty thought. In a moment the flying feet came running back and one of the tiny hands carried over her head the jumper that Marty had been working on. Marty watched as Missie pushed the garment onto Clark's lap, pointing at the fancy stitching and exclaimed, "Pretty. Mine. Pretty."
Clark gingerly picked up the small article in his big work
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roughened hands. His eyes softened as he looked across at Marty. She held her breath. For a moment he did not speak but sat lightly stroking the small garment. In a somewhat choked voice he responded. "Yeah, Missie, very pretty," but it was to Marty that he spoke, not the excited child.
Clark had more surprises too. For Missie he had a picture book. She had never beheld such a thing before and spent the rest of the evening carefully turning the pages, exclaiming over and over the wonder of finding cows and pigs and bunnies in such an unlikely place. Clark had bought himself some books for the long winter evenings ahead, too. This was the first time Marty was aware that he was a reader. She then remembered the shelf in the sitting room with a number of interesting-looking books on it.
Clark had a package for her as well that would help pass the months ahead. It contained wool and knitting needles, and pieces of material for quilt piecing, and he had a sack of raw wool that he had stored in one of the outside buildings until such time as it was needed.
Marty was very thankful. She loved to knit and though she had never tried, she was willing to try her hand at quilting as well.
Missie was too excited to go to bed, but with a firmness that surprised Marty, Clark informed her that she had had enough excitement for one night and all of her things would be there in the morning. After Marty washed the child and got her ready for bed, Clark tucked her in and heard her short prayer. Marty carefully folded the new things and picked up the pieces of material. This would care for a few more days, she thought with relief. If only she could keep herself busy, perhaps she wouldn't hurt so much. She placed it all in Missie's chest for the night, planning to go to work on sewing the little garments on the morrow.
"Oh, no," she thought. "Tomorrow be another Lord's Day!"
She couldn't expect Clark and Missie to tramp off for two Sundays in a row.
"Dad-burn!" she exclaimed.
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How in the world would she be able to suffer through the long, miserable day anyway? Maybe she should take to the woods. Well, tomorrow would have to care of itself. No use fretting about it now. She had a small amount of work to do yet on the jumper, and then she'd take her tired self off to bed. It seemed a usual thing these days for her to feel weary.
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Chapter 13
Ellen
Sunday was a cool day with a wind blowing from the west. After the morning reading and prayer Marty's mind kept staying with the scripture. Clark was still reading from the Psalms, and Marty often found herself puzzled over some of the words. She was listening more closely now, and she often felt herself wanting to ask Clark to repeat slowly some portion so that she might ponder over its meaning.
Could Clark's God be a comfort to others like He had been to the writer David? Marty acknowledged that she knew very little about Clark's God and sometimes she caught herself yearning to know more; Bible reading hadn't been a part of her upbringing. She wondered in a vague way if she had missed something rather important. On occasion Clark would give a few words of his own as a background or setting to the scripture for that day, telling a bit about the author and his troubled life at the time of his writing. Marty knew that the words were for her understanding, but she didn't resent it. Indeed, she drank it in as one thirsting for knowledge.
This morning, as Clark prayed, Marty found herself wondering if she dared to approach Clark's God in the direct way that Clark himself did. She felt a longing within her to do so but she held back.
When Clark said Amen, Marty's lips also formed the words.
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Breakfast began after Missie declared her loud 'Amen,' too.
"What air we gonna do with this long day afore us?" Marty thought. She knew that today she could not sew. She had defied Clark's God in so doing once, but to repeat it would be tempting His anger to fall upon her and she couldn't risk that. If He had any help at all that He could spare for her, she desperately needed it.
Clark interrupted her thoughts.
"On the way to town yesterday, I stopped me at the Grahams to see if there be anythin' thet I might be gettin' them in town. Ma asked thet we come fer a visit an' dinner today. Who knows how many nice Sundays we be a havin' afore winter sets in? I said I'd check with ya on it."
"Bless ya, Ma," thought Marty. "Oh, bless ya, Ma." Out loud she said, quite calmly, "I'd be a likin' thet," and it was settled.
She hurried with the morning dishes and when Clark went to get the team ready, she hastened to get Missie and herself ready to go.
She dressed Missie in the new shirt and jumper with a pair of the new stockings and the little black shoes. She brushed out Missie's curls until they were light and fluffy. The child truly did look a picture as she twirled and pirouetted, admiring herself.
Marty then turned to her own dresses. She took the new blue-gray one from the hanger, but couldn't bring herself to wear it. It should have been for Clem, that dress, and somehow she just couldn't put it on to accompany Clark. If he failed to notice it, she would be hurt, and if by some strange chance his eyes showed admiration, that would hurt even more. She didn't want admiration from him or any other man. She could still see clearly Clem's love-filled eyes as he pulled her to him. She smothered the sob in her throat and chose the Plainer navy dress with the bit of lace trim at the throat and sleeves. Surely this one would be quite acceptable, even proper.
She dressed in the new undergarments, and the long stockings,
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put on the new shoes and slipped the dress over her head. She'd wear the lighter bonnet and her new shawl. It wasn't cold enough to be needing the heavy coat.
Carefully she brushed out her curly hair and then decided to pin it up in a proper fashion. She had been dreadfully neglectful of it lately, she knew. It took her several minutes to arrange it to meet her approval, and just as she finished she heard Clark call to see if they were ready.
Missie went bursting from the room to meet her pa and was informed that she looked like a "real little lady an' her pa was right proud of her."
Marty followed, refusing to meet Clark's eyes. She didn't want to read anything there, whether real or imagined. She noticed as he helped her up to the seat of the wagon that he had changed from his work clothes and looked rather fine himself. As they travelled to the Grahams, she gave her full attention to the young Missie and the cool fall day.
The day passed quickly at the Grahams. Marty helped Ma and the girls get the dinner on. This time Marty was aware of what she ate and found Ma to be a very good cook, a fact which was no surprise to her. After the dinner the men left for the sunny side of the porch so that they could man-talk.
Young Jason Stern put in an appearance, much to the blushing of Sally Anne. The two went for a walk, always in full sight of the house.
The ladies made quick work of the dishes and then Ma and Marty sat down for a chat. It was good just to sit and talk with Ma. Marty didn't mind her idle hands half so much with such pleasant company. After discussing the general women's topics, Marty took advantage of the fact that the rest were outdoors at various activities and the two young ones put down for a nap, to broach a subject that had been stirring within her.
"Ma," she ventured, "could ya tell me 'bout Ellen? Seems thet I should be knowin' somethin"bout her, takin' over her house an' her baby."
Marty made no reference to "her man," Ma noticed, but made no comment on it. Marty then told Ma about the sewing
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machine and Clark's reaction to it.
Ma sighed deeply and seemed to look off into space for a moment. When she spoke her voice was a might shaky.
"Don't hardly know what words to be a tellin' it with," Ma said. "Ellen was young an' right pretty, too. Darker than you, she be, an' taller too. She was a merry and chattery sort. Loved everythin' an' everybody, seemed to me. She adored Clark an' he 'peared to think her somethin' pretty special, too.
"When Missie was born, ya should have see'd the two of 'em." Ma shook her head and smiled gently. "Never see'd two people so excited-- like a couple of kids they were. I delivered Missie. Fact is, I've delivered most babies here 'bout, but never did I see anyone else git quite thet excited over a newborn, welcome as they be.
"Well, Ellen, she was soon up an' about an' fussin' over thet new baby. She thought she was jest beautiful, an' Missie be right pretty, too. Anyway the months went by. Clark an' Ellen was a doin' real good. Clark's a hard worker an' thet's what farmin' is all about. Ya git what yer willin' to pay fer in sweat an' achin' back. Well, things was a goin' real good when one day last August Clark came ridin' into the yard. He was real excited like an' I knew thet somethin' was wrong. 'Ma,' he says, 'can ya come quick? Ellen is in awful pain.' Thet's what he says. I can hear him yet.
"So I went, yellin' to the girls what to do while I be gone. Ellen was in pain all right, tossing an' rollin' on the bed, hold- in' herself an' groanin'. She refused to cry out 'cause she didn't want Missie to hear her. So she jest bit her lip till she had it a bleedin'.
"Wasn't much thet I could do but try to keep her face cooled. There was no doctor to go fer, an' we jest watched, hurtin' all over thet we couldn't do anythin' fer her. Clark was torn between stayin' with Ellen an' carin' fer Missie. I never been so sorry fer a man.
"Well, the night dragged by an' finally 'bout four in the mornin' she stopped thrashin' so. I breathed a prayer of relief, but it wasn't to be fer long.
"She kept gettin' hotter an' hotter an' more an' more listless.
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I bathed her in cool water over an' over again, but it were no use."
Ma stopped, waited for a moment, then took a deep breath and went on.
"Thet evenin' we lost her, an Clark-- " she stopped again.
She brushed a tear away and stood up. "But thet be in the past, child, an' no use goin' over it all agin. Anyway, ya be there now to care fer Missie an' thet's what Clark be a needin'. Was awful hard fer him to do all his fall work totin' thet little one round on his back. I said I'd keep her on here, but I reckon Clark wanted her to know thet she be his an' somethin' special, not jest one of a brood. Besides he never did want to be beholden to anybody. There was a childless woman in town who would have gladly took her, but Clark would have none of it. Said she would have growed up so spoiled she would have been unfit fer even herself to stand; that's what Clark said. Anyway, Clark's prayers seem to be gittin' answered and Missie has you now an' a right good mama ya be a makin' too-- sewin' thet sweet little dress an' all."
She patted Marty's arm.
"Yer doin' jest fine, Marty. Jest fine."
Through the whole speech of Ma's, Marty had sat wide- eyed. The hearing of Clark's sorrow had opened afresh the pain of her own. She wanted to weep but sat dry-eyed, feeling the horror of it all. It had been a shock for her to hear that Clem was dead, but she hadn't had to sit by him for hours watching him suffer, not able to lift a hand to relieve him. She decided that she had had the easier suffering of the two.
"Oh, Clem," her heart whispered, "Clem, I'm glad thet ya didn't have to bear pain like thet."
She roused as Ma hustled up, exclaiming that time had just flown and the menfolk would be looking for coffee.