Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) (13 page)

up with. Scholars--he knew lots of scholars and some who would even be willing, just as he himself had been, to venture west to taste of the excitement of opening a new frontier. It had its drawbacks, he was willing to admit, but there were compensations. One of them, in his case, being Tessie LaHaye. Back East the ladies had the nasty habit of turning their backs when they saw him approaching. Tessie entertained no such coyness. True, she was barely eighteen, and he thirty-two, but in the West people seemed to quibble less about such details. He was willing to accept her as a very pleasant young lady, and she seemed equally willing to accept him as an eligible man. In fact he felt that she was rather impressed with his bowler hat and white spats. He planned to make a call on Tessie--he hoped very soon, for he was anxious to discover just where he stood. And this meeting had given him the added confidence he needed.

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Chapter 21

Marty Talks to Ma

Marty had put off the much dreaded visit to
see
Ma, but she knew that she must force herself to make the call. Tommie was counting on her and she had given her promise. Soon winter with its cold and snow would have them locked in its grip, and then she would find the trip difficult physically as well as emotionally.

"What can I use as an excuse?" she asked herself, and could come up with nothing. Finally she just decided to go.

Clark was heading for town for his usual Saturday trip and Marty decided that now was the time.

"Thought thet I'd trail along iffen it not be upsettin' enythin'," she informed him.

He looked pleased. "My pleasure," he said. "Isn't often enough thet I git to show off my wife in town."

"Oh, I'll not be goin' on into town," she quickly corrected. "I'm a plannin' on stoppin' off to chat with Ma while ya be gone."

His pleasure faded somewhat, but not altogether. "Well, at least I'll have me yer company fer a spell," he said.

Marty informed the girls of her plans. Nandry seemed almost happy to have the place to herself.

Marty put on her heavy coat and tied on her bonnet. Her coat wouldn't button properly, so she had to be content to just pull it about her.

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Clark eyed her as she crawled heavily up into the wagon, clumsy in spite of his helping hands.

"Ya sure this be the proper time to be a takin' a bumpy wagon ride?" he asked.

"Won't hurt me none," Marty assured him.

Still she noticed that he drove more slowly than usual. Ma's surprise at seeing Marty was quickly replaced by pleasure.

"I'm so glad thet ya came whilst ya still could," she said, and Marty was sure that Ma thought that her reason for coming was simply that this would be her last opportunity for a while.

They visited, both ladies working on knitting as they chatted. Marty kept one eye on the clock. She mustn't put her purpose for coming off too long and be cut short by Clark's return, or the interruption of some of Ma's family. Finally she took a deep breath and began.

"Tommie came to see me a while back."

Ma looked up, more at the sound of Marty's voice than the words themselves.

"He needed to talk," Marty went on.

Silence.

"A girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Ya knew thet?"

"I thought as much--it shows, ya know. He's got all the signs, but I can't figure it. He ain't said nothin' at all 'bout her. I've tried to lead in thet direction a few times, but he shys away."

Silence again.

"Somethin' be wrong about it; is thet it, Marty?" Marty swallowed hard.

"No, not wrong, really. Jest--well, jest different--different."

"Different how?"

Marty nearly choked. "Well, this here girl thet Tommie loves--an' he truly does love her, Ma--I saw thet by the way he talked--the way he looked--well, this here girl--her name ah--is Owahteeka."

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Marty looked quickly at Ma to see if she'd catch the significance. She did. Her needles ceased clicking, her face blanched white, and her eyes filled with horror.

"Tommie?" she said incredulously.

"Yeah, well--ya see, Ma." Marty now felt the need to hurry an explanation, "Tommie didn't mean to meet an Indian girl. Ya see, he was jest lookin' fer stray cows, out in the hill country, an' he stopped at a berry patch to pick ya some berries fer pie. An'--an' this girl was there too, pickin' berries, an' they started talkin', an' then they got better acquainted--over the months like. An'--well--Tommie loves her."

Ma laid aside her knitting and rose to her feet.

"But he can't, Marty, he mustn't. Don't ya see thet? It jest doesn't work. It always means hurt--always."

"I see," Marty said slowly, "but Tommie doesn't." "What did he say? Don't the girl's people care?"

"She doesn't have people--thet is, no one but an old

man--a great-grandfather. They haven't told 'im. Owahteeka

thinks it wise to wait," Marty finished lamely.

"Wise to wait, huh," repeated Ma. "Then thet'll stop 'im from doin' somethin' foolish. There be somethin' more then we know?"

"I don't know,"said Marty. "The way thet Tommie talked, I don't think the old man will be around long. An'--an'--I don't think thet she plans to tell him--jest wait 'til he's gone--an' then go ahead. Thet's what I think."

"Oh, dear God," Ma prayed, "what ever are we gonna do?"

Marty slumped in her chair. Who was she to try to give advice to a woman like Ma Graham?

"Well, seems to me," she said, weighing every word, "ya have only a couple a choices. Ya can fight it an' lose Tommie, or ya can okay it and welcome an Indian daughter-in-law."

"Oh, dear God!" said Ma, her face going even whiter.

Ma paced the floor between the table and the stove. Marty waited. Suddenly Ma's face began to restore its color.

"Marty," she said, "I jest thought me of a third choice. I won't fight it an' I won't encourage it, but I sure am goin' to do some prayin'."

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"Prayin', how?"

"Prayin'--how do ya think?" The words fairly snapped from Ma. "It jest won't work, Marty. Never. An' I won't have my Tom hurt--shunned an' ridiculed. Grandchildren thet ain't grandchildren 'cause they're neither white nor brown. It ain't to happen, Marty."

"Iffen ya pray like thet, Ma," Marty spoke quietly, slowly, "will ya be askin' fer help or jest givin' orders?"

Ma stiffened. Tears slid down her cheeks. She did not bother to wipe them away. Finally the battle within her seemed to subside. She sat down heavily in the chair across from Marty.

"Yer right--course. I'd like to pray thet God would jest quickly put an end to all this. It scares me, Marty. Truly, it does. I jest feel thet no good can come out of it--no matter what. I'll pray--I'll pray lots, an' I'll try hard to say 'Thy will be done' an' mean it. But I'll tell ya now, Marty--my God's not willin' folks of different races to be marryin' an' raisin' young'uns thet don't belong nowhere. God ain't fer bringin' confusion of either ideas or skins--nor hurt an' pain of being' shut out--put down. Thet ain't of God, Marty."

Ma stopped her discourse and sat rubbing her work-worn hands together in agitation.

"Me an' Ben gotta have a long talk on this. Then the two of us will try an' talk some sense into Tommie. He's too good a boy, Marty--too good to lose like this."

Marty only nodded. She felt as though she had not done what she had come to do. She wished that Ma had left just a wee small crack in the door instead of closing it so firmly, but maybe Ma was right. Who was she, Marty, to know the proper way to handle such a situation? And surely as Ma spent time in prayer, if she were wrong, it would be revealed to her. But it might take time.

Poor Tommie. Marty's heart ached for him. Somehow she felt that no matter how things went, there was heartache in store for the boy. If only there were some way to spare him the hurt. She hoped that Clark would hurry back from town. She was anxious to pour it all out to him on the quiet ride home.

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Chapter 22

A Call on Wanda

Marty was busy at the kitchen cupboard making Clark's favorite dessert. Clare came in from outside, pulled up a chair and watched her.

"Are ya mad at Pa?"

Marty stopped rolling the dough and looked at the boy. "Whatcha meanin'?"

"Thet's his favorite," explained Clare. "Ya always make his favorite when ya been mad."

He jumped down and was gone before Marty could even answer. He had laid the words out very matter-of-factly, as though they bore no consequence and needed no explaining. Marty frowned. It was a while before the rolling pin again went to work on the dough.

"Do I really do thet?" she asked herself. "An' iffen I do, is it thet obvious?"

The fact was, she hadn't had a fuss with Clark at all. She was just paving the way to ask him for the team so that she might pay an afternoon call on Wanda. Now Clark was not one to keep his woman holed up at home, but he did have some strange notions when it neared her confinement time, and Marty had visions of Clark advising her to stay put for the present. Maybe his favorite dessert would put him in a more pliable mood, she had reasoned, and then this smart young

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Clare had come along. If he could see through her so easily, might not Clark?

Marty put the dessert in the oven with a new lack of confidence. Maybe she was foolish to even approach Clark, but she wanted so much to have a talk with Wanda.

Talk was gradually making its way from neighbor to neighbor that something was indeed wrong with the Marshall child, and Marty held her breath lest it get back to Cam and Wanda. She knew there was no wall of protection that she could build, but if she could just learn if Wanda was aware that her small son was--different. Marty felt that Wanda's acceptance of the fact would be her own protective wall--the only thing that could shield her from the hurt.

The dessert baked to perfection and Clark picked up the aroma even before he stepped through the kitchen door.

"Umm," he called ahead, "apple turnovers. Makes a man's mouth water."

Marty smiled, but still felt unsure. Nandry led Arnie in and washed him at the hand basin, and they joined Clark and Clare at the table.

The meal was pleasant but hurried. Clark had pressing work to which he wished to return. Marty knew that she must not waste time.

"Ya be a needin' the team this afternoon?"

Clark gave her a sharp look.

"Ya plannin' on pickin' rock?"

Marty felt the warmth rise into her cheeks, but she bit back the cutting remark she wanted to respond with and instead spoke quietly, her voice well controlled.

"I thought as how I'd like to take me a quick trip to see Wanda."

"It may be a mite quicker then you'd planned." Marty got the implication with no difficulty.

"Oh, Clark," she said in disgust, "I been through this before. Now don't ya think if my time was close thet I'd be a knowin' it?"

Clark looked unconvinced. "As
sudden
travail cometh Upon a woman," he quoted, emphasizing the word sudden.