Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) (8 page)

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wishin' thet she had some. Chickens an' babies--thet's what she likes."

"Fine," said Marty, "you can feed the chickens and gather the eggs iffen ya like thet. What 'bout you, Clae? What would you be likin'?"

Clae looked suddenly shy. Dared she express her likes? Finally she blurted it out. She might have to pay for it, but say it she would.

"I'd like to learn to make things," she said, "pretty dresses an' aprons an' knitted things."

"Stop it, Clae," Nandry scolded. "Ya know thet ya can't do all thet. Ya'd wreck the machine fer sure."

Now it was out. Marty had noticed the young girl eying her machine hungrily. So she wished to be creative. Well, she would be given instruction and opportunity.

"The machine doesn't break so easy," she said, carefully choosing her words. "Ya must both learn to sew, an' then you'll be able to make whatever ya want. Perhaps we could start on somethin' simple, an' then when ya practice abit ya can do somethin' more fancy. I learned to sew when I was quite young, an' I've always been glad thet I did. Sewin' some- thin' pretty always makes me feel good inside."

Clae's eyes shone. She could hardly believe her ears. Could she really learn to sew at this house? She wanted to hug this woman but she held back.

Marty went on.

"Now tomorra you are goin' to have yer first big job. I'm goin' into town with my husband to buy the things thet you'll be needin' fer school, an' Twill be leavin' ya here on yer own."

Marty secretly wondered if she would be brave enough to leave them when the time came, or would she bundle them all up and take them along. No, that would never do. Five youngsters underfoot while she tried to hurry through a great deal of shopping just wouldn't work at all. Besides, the girls really did need the opportunity to prove themselves. They were quite old enough to be caring for younger ones, and she must give them the chance to show it.

Her announcement caused no change of expression in the

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eyes that were before her.

"Do ya think, Nandry, thet ya can care fer young Arnie, an' help fix some dinner fer ya all?"

Nandry shook her head in agreement.

"An', Clae, you an' Missie will need to help with the dishes an' the dinner, an' keep an' eye on Clare. Can ya do thet?" The two girls exchanged glances, then agreed.

"Good," said Marty, "then it be decided. Now we have lots thet must be done today. First I want ya all to slip off yer shoes so thet I can get a tracin' of yer feet fer new boots fer school."

Embarrassment flushed Marty's face as she realized too late that the two Larson girls were not wearing shoes.

"Our shoes are all worn out," Clae explained, matter-of- factly. "They won't stay on no more."

Marty carefully traced and labelled the feet on her pieces of cardboard. She would cut them out later so that they could be slipped into a shoe for fitting.

"Now then," she told the girls, "Clae an' Missie are to do up the dishes. Missie, you show Clae where the pans an' towels are kept. Nandry you come with me an' I'll show ya how to be carin' fer the chickens. Then we will gather an' clean the eggs so thet I can add 'em to the ones I've set aside to take to town."

"Can I bring Arnie?" Nandry asked. "He likes chickens, too."

Marty consented, knowing it to be true. Arnie did love the chickens, though Marty was convinced that what he liked the most was the delightful squawking and flapping they did when he chased them round the pen.

They left the house together. The two younger girls were already at work on the dishes.

Maybe things would fall into place after all. The girls all seemed almost eager to get to their new tasks. Marty breathed a relieved sigh and led the way to the grain bin.

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Chapter 13

The Trip to Town

Marty still felt some misgivings on the following morning as she tied on her bonnet and gathered her eggs, butter and cream for her trip to town. Should she leave them all on their own or should she at least take Arnie with her? No. She must let the girls feel that she could trust them. After all, their father had made them shoulder grown-up responsibilities for years. She couldn't ask them to go back to being mere children again.

With reluctant steps she left to join Clark in the wagon.

She waved good-bye again and put on a brave smile. "Bring us some yummies," Clare called to her.

"An' some new hair ribbons fer school," added Missie. "Thet girl," laughed Clark; "she thinks far too much 'bout

how she be lookin'."

Marty coaxed forth a smile.

"Clark," she said as they left the gate, "do ya think it be okay to leave 'em like thet--with jest the girls an'--"

"Why not?" Clark interrupted. "They been cookin' an' cleanin' fer years already."

"But they haven't had young'uns to care fer."

"No, thet's right, but carin' fer young'uns seems to be the one thing thet pleasures young Nandry."

"I noticed thet, too," Marty responded. "She really seems

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to enjoy Arnie. An' he seems to like her, too. Oh, I hope thet it will be all right, but I won't feel easy-like until we git home agin. I sure hope thet this is a fast trip."

"Yer frettin' too much I'm a thinkin', but we'll try to hurry it abit. Won't take me long to be a carin' fer the things thet I be needin'. How 'bout you?"

"Shouldn't take long. I need things fer the girls fer school an' the usual groceries."

"You be needin' money then."

"I have my egg savin's."

"No need to spend all yer savin's on outfittin' the girls. I'm willin' to share in the carin' of 'em."

Clark tucked the reins between his knees and pulled out his wallet. He extracted a couple of bills.

"Think this be enough?"

"Thet'll be fine," she answered. "I 'preciate it. It's gonna take abit to git 'em off to school proper-like. They really own nothin' now thet's fittin' to wear."

Clark nodded.

"Well, we knew when we took 'em thet they'd cost some- thin'. No problem there."

They drove on in silence.

The town that day was filled with commotion. A wagon train was getting ready to move on. Dogs barked, horses stomped and children ran yelling through the street. Grown men argued prices and women scurried about, running to the store for a last-minute purchase or looking for children who had been told to stay put but didn't. Marty decided that she had picked a poor day to come to town; surely her shopping would be slowed down considerably.

She entered McDonald's General Store with some trepidation. She always dreaded facing this woman's scrutinizing eyes and equally sharp tongue.

"I declare," she had said to Clark on one occasion, "thet there woman's tongue has no sense of propriety."

Missie had overheard the word and loved it, and was henceforth declaring of all things--particularly to young Clare--"You've no sense of pa'piety," which seemed to be

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meaning "Yer jest plain dumb."

Marty had guarded her tongue more carefully in Missie's presence after that.

Marty now straightened her back and pushed herself through the McDonald's door. To her relief Mrs. McDonald was busy with three women from the train. She looked at Marty and her eyes held the expression of a child denied a cone at the annual Sunday school picnic. Marty smiled briefly and crossed to the bolts of dress goods. What relief to be left on her own for her choosing. Mentally she calculated as she lifted bolt after bolt. The new dresses had to be servicable, but, oh, how she'd like to have them pretty, too, and the prettier material added up so quickly. The dark blue would wear half of forever, but how would one ever make it look attractive. The soft pink voile was so beautiful but looked like you could sip tea through it without even changing the taste. Hardly the right thing for a farm girl.

Mrs. McDonald had reluctantly turned her full attention back to the ladies from the train and was now enjoying the bits of gossip that they could supply--prying rather unsubtlely for the whys of their coming or going. Marty went carefully about her choosing, weighing her decisions with care. She picked neither the dark blue nor the pink. "No use takin' material thet'll wear too long," she reasoned. "They'll outgrow it 'fore ya know it enyway." She took instead a length of medium blue, a pearly grey, some warm brown and a couple of prints, one with a green background and the other red. She then chose materials for underclothes, nighties, and bonnets and moved on to choose stockings, boots, and some heavier material for coats. Until the colder weather arrived the girls could get by with capes she would make out of material she already had on hand.

She realized as she added bolt to bolt on the counter, to later be measured off, what a mammoth sewing job she had ahead of her. She was thankful that she already had Missie's clothes prepared.

Missie! She had asked for new hair ribbons. Marty moved on to choose some. Nandry and Clae would need some too.

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Her shopping was going well, thanks to the wagon-train ladies. She laid the last dry goods items with the pile on the counter and rechecked her list. Even with the money that Clark had given her, most of her egg-and-cream money would go. Well, she couldn't help that. She had promised Tina Larson that she would give the girls a chance, and give them a chance she would.

She went on to her grocery list, placing items on the counter as she selected them. Before she had finished, Clark entered the store. His eyebrows raised somewhat at the great heap on the counter, but he made no comment.

"Most done," Marty offered. "Did ya git the things ya be needin'?"

"All but a piece fer the plow. The smithie had to order thet in, but I expected thet. Thet's why I sent now 'stead of waitin' fer later." He grinned. "There be jest a chance thet it'll make it fer spring plowin'."

The train ladies gathered their bundles and left the store, and Mrs. McDonald scurried toward Clark and Marty as though not to waste a precious minute of gossip time.

"Well, well, how are the Davises?" she began, but left no time for a reply.

"I hear thet ya took on them two Larson girls." Her eyes dared them to deny it and at the same instant declared them out of their mind for so doing.

She waited just a moment but neither Clark nor Marty commented.

"I have my purchases laid out here, Mrs. McDonald," Marty said evenly. "I believe thet's all I be a needin' today."

Mrs. McDonald went to work on adding up the groceries, but her eyes promised Marty that she wasn't finished with her yet. When she had the total figured, Clark stepped forward to pay the bill.

"I'll take the groceries on out to the wagon," he informed Marty, "then be back to help with them other things."

"I can manage 'em," Marty assured him. "Jest wait in the wagon fer me. Where is the team?"

"Jest across the street."

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"Fine. I'll be there quick-like."

Marty walked to the door with him and opened it as he went out, both arms loaded. She picked up the box she had left by the entrance, then placing it on the counter, she spoke to Mrs. McDonald.

"My eggs, butter, and cream fer today. I'd like 'em to go toward these things, please."

Mrs. McDonald began to calculate the exchange. When she had figured the worth of the farm produce, Marty began to push bolts of material forward, naming the yardage that she desired from each one. In between snips of the scissors, Mrs. McDonald managed to pry for tidbits that she might later be able to pass on.

"Jedd said ya was most keen on keepin' the girls." Marty only nodded.

"People here figurin' as to why. Some say thet with yer own three young'uns ya figured to need the help pretty bad. I said, 'Now, Mrs. Davis wouldn't stoop to usin' child labor like,' but--" She stopped and shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she could be wrong.

" 'Seemed to me thet it makes more sense to keep 'em fer their board,' seys I. 'Girls thet age ain't much fer workin', but with Jedd a jinglin' all thet hard cash no reason thet the Davises shouldn't git in on some of it.'

Marty could feel her cheeks flushing with anger. How this woman could goad her.

"Enyway, I says to folks thet, knowin' ya like, I'm right sure thet Miz Davis won't overwork those two, an' a bit of good hard work might be the best thing fer 'em. Never did care much fer those two--real shifty eyes. Grow up useless like their pa. I'll bet ya won't git much work outta those two, but iffen ya got a fair cash exchange--"

Marty could take no more.

"Mrs. McDonald," she said, trying hard not to let her anger show through her words, though she knew that she wasn't succeeding, "we took the girls 'cause their ma wanted 'em to have a chance, an' I made a promise-like 'fore she died. I aim to keep thet promise iffen I can--an' there was no money,

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