Spring's Gentle Promise (19 page)

The threshing crew had just moved in and set up, and the first load of bundles had been placed on the conveyer belt, when I glanced toward the house and saw Lilli standing in the yard waving her apron back and forth like the house was on fire. For a moment I couldn’t understand her action, and then I realized the waving was meant to get my attention. Even so it took a while for me to understand what Lilli was trying to tell me.

“Go ahead, Josh. I’ll take over here,” said a voice beside me, and I turned to see Avery also watching the waving apron.

Then I understood what it was all about. It was Mary.
It must
be time . . .
I dropped the pitchfork right where I was standing and took off for the farmyard on the run. Lilli saw me coming and turned to hurry back into the house.

Puffing from the run, my chest heaving and my lungs hurting, I just looked, wild-eyed, around the little circle in the kitchen, hoping that someone would give me information.

Lilli was stoking the fire and putting the kettle on. Her back was to me but she spoke anyway—evenly, controlled, just as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“It’s time to fetch Doc, Josh.”

I headed for the stairs. I had to see Mary first.

She was lying in our bed, her face damp with perspiration, her hair scattered across the pillow. When she saw me she managed a weak smile, but I could see relief there too.

“It’s time, Josh,” she whispered.

I went to the bed, knelt beside it and took her hand. For a moment I couldn’t speak. I pressed her fingers to my lips. She reached out and gently brushed at my cheek.

Before I could even tell her that I would hurry, her hand tightened on mine and she squeezed my fingers until they actually hurt. Her face drained of all color and her breath caught in a ragged little gasp.

It scared me half to death. I was sure something was dreadfully wrong. And then she began to relax again. I could feel the tension on my fingers lessening, and Mary let her head roll back on the pillow so that she could look at me again.

“Go, Josh,” she whispered. “You’d best hurry.”

I nodded and was gone.

I hadn’t been using the Ford much, but I ran directly to it now. I prayed that it had enough fuel to get me to town and back. I also prayed that it would start right off after sitting for most of the summer.

It did start. I thanked God all of the way down the lane, and then I wheeled onto the road and headed for town just as fast as I could push that thing.

Doc wasn’t home. I nearly panicked. Thanks to his wife, I found him in the barber shop getting his monthly haircut.

“It’s Mary!” I gasped out. You would have thought I had run all the way to town. “Mary needs you. Now.”

Doc didn’t fool around any. He jerked the white cloth from around his neck.

“I’ll be back, Charlie,” he flung over his shoulder and left with only half a cut. Then we were off for his house to pick up his bag and whatever else he needed.

The trip home was a fast one. I turned once to look at Doc to see if I was scaring the living daylights out of him, but he was grinning just a bit as he held on to his hat, and I got the feeling he was actually enjoying the ride.

We wheeled into the yard and screeched to a stop right before the picket fence. Doc grabbed his bag and headed for the house. I wasn’t far behind. Only Grandpa and Uncle Charlie were in the kitchen when I entered.

“How’s Mary?” I asked, and Grandpa told me that Lilli was up with her and she seemed to be doing fine.

I started pacing. Back and forth across the kitchen. I knew Uncle Nat had been with Lou when some of their babies were born, but that was one detail Mary and I had forgotten to talk about.

I wasn’t sure I’d be good company in the birthing room. I was afraid I’d go and pass out or something right when Mary needed me the most. Oh, if only—if only there was some way that I could help her!

Lilli came down, her face a mite pale. She spoke as she walked right on by me to poke at the stove again.

“Mary wants you.”

For a minute my feet wouldn’t even move. I stood there, staring blankly after Lilli, licking dry lips and trying hard to swallow. And then I suddenly found my legs and propelled myself forward and up the steps.

Doc was bending over Mary, talking to her, calming her. I didn’t want to get in his way so I went around to the other side. Mary, her face damp from her exertions, turned to look at me. She didn’t say anything, just reached for my hand. I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead—right on the scar from her accident. Mary sort of buried her face against me for a moment, and then another contraction made her stiffen and pull away.

I looked at Doc. How could he stand this? She was—she was— “She’s doing fine. Just fine. You’re doing just fine, Mary. Won’t be too long and it’ll all be over,” Doc was murmuring, his voice more a drone than speech.

According to Doc, things progressed quickly. For me it seemed to take forever. But it did eventually come to an end. Like a wondrous miracle—one minute we were in the throes of birthing agony, and the next minute we were parents.
Parents
. I could hardly believe the fact even though I’d been waiting for it for months. But there he was—
our little son
—mine and Mary’s. Red and wrinkled and wailing his head off.

I heard Mary chuckle and I wondered if she was totally aware or under the influence of some of Doc’s ether. But she looked at me, her eyes big with wonder and then tears began to form and run down her cheeks. “A boy, Josh,” she whispered. “A boy.” And at that moment I knew that Mary had wanted with all her heart to present me with a son.

I leaned over to kiss her and smoothed the tangled hair back from her face. Oh, how I loved her. How I loved that new little bundle she had just presented to me. A son. Our very own son.

“William Joshua,” I whispered, for that was the name we had already chosen.

“William Joshua,” echoed Mary, and her eyes shone, the hours of pain totally forgotten. Just then Doc placed the still-squalling little bundle in Mary’s arms.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Mary was crooning, and I had to admit that he was.
There’s different kinds of beauty,
I thought with a smile as I looked into the little face all scrunched up with his efforts to cry.

Mary began to pat the baby and croon to him and the crying ceased. “I’ll bet he’s all tired out,” she whispered. “It’s hard work being born.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I had some idea now of how tough it was for Mary—for me—but for William Joshua? Maybe it was, I admitted.

I kissed Mary again—almost delirious in my happiness. Then I bent down to kiss the top of the head of our little child. He stirred a bit, and I pretended that he looked right at me and knew just who I was.

Mary pretended right along with me. “So, you are getting acquainted with your papa, William. You are one lucky boy. You have a wonderful papa. He’ll take you fishin’ an—”

Tears were on my cheeks. I hugged Mary and our son closer.

There was a tap at the door and I looked up, realizing then that Doc had quietly slipped from the room. It also dawned on me that there were some other anxious family members who were waiting down in the kitchen below.

Mary called, “Come in.” And they were all there. Lilli and Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. The color was back in Lilli’s cheeks and Grandpa was grinning like the world had just turned right side up and Uncle Charlie looked so relieved and proud at the same time that I wanted to chuckle.

They tiptoed in to peek at the small baby resting on Mary’s arm.

“It’s okay,” said Mary. “He’s awake.”

Then they all started talking at once, saying what a fine baby he was and who he looked like and how alert he was and asked what we were going to name him and all that.

We had to slow them down and sort things out and finally were able to announce that his name was William Joshua. Grandpa looked across at me and nodded in understanding and agreement.

Doc returned and told us that Mary needed some rest. In spite of all the commotion, William Joshua had already fallen asleep. Lilli lifted him tenderly from Mary’s arm and placed him in the nearby cradle. I went to look at him again, suddenly torn. I wanted to be near Mary, but I wanted to study my son. Doc settled it for me.

“Out with you, too, Josh,” he informed me. “You can come back again when she’s rested a bit.”

I gave Mary one more kiss, took one last look at my son and reluctantly left the room. I didn’t realize until I fell into one of the kitchen chairs how emotionally drained I was. I was glad for a cup of Lilli’s coffee to sort of perk me up.

“How’s the crop?” Grandpa asked, making conversation, and that brought the threshing sharply back to mind.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “They were just starting to run some through.”

I decided I’d best get back to the field and find out just what was happening.

C
HAPTER
20
Tough Times

U
NFORTUNATELY, THE CROP WAS even poorer than I expected. I should have known that it wouldn’t be worth much, but I’d kept hoping that something might be in those near-empty heads. There wasn’t much grain in the bins. It had me concerned, for a heavy farm payment was due at the bank. I knew it was going to be tough to cover it. We’d all have to tighten the belt. Considerably. But I hoped I wouldn’t need to bother Mary with the worry of it.

Lilli stayed with us until Mary was back on her feet. Avery came whenever he could and spent the night. I knew he was anxious to get his wife home again.

William was an easy baby to have around. He scarcely cried at all, it seemed to me. But then I was in the fields or the barn a good deal of the time. Besides, William didn’t have much need for fussin’. If Mary wasn’t available, Grandpa or Uncle Charlie were. I figured as how they’d have that youngster spoiled long before he cut a tooth.

I put it off as long as I dared, and then one day I went out to make an honest assessment of the way things stood. I’d hated to face the truth, but the bank note was due the next Monday. I knew I had to figure out just how I was going to make the payment.

The picture wasn’t a rosy one. There was barely enough seed grain to plant again come spring.

“If I can just make it through to another crop,” I told myself, “then we’ll be back on our feet again.”

I reached a hand down into the bin and let the kernels of grain trickle through my fingers. Dwarfed and skimpy, they were nothing like the seed I had worked so hard to build up. But I was sure that with a couple years of good rains, I could be right back with good seed again.

I pulled a piece of paper from my hip pocket and a stub of a pencil from my shirt and started figuring. I had a little money laid aside, but it was nowhere near enough. There wasn’t any grain to sell. I’d need every bit of it for seed come spring and to feed the cattle and hogs through the winter.

I jabbed at the paper with my pencil. Who was I trying to kid? There wasn’t nearly enough grain to winter the stock. Some of the stock would have to go.

I had worked so hard to build up those bloodlines—some folks were saying I had the best breeding stock in the county. I sure didn’t want to part with any of them.

But on the other hand, I reasoned, that would make them easier to sell—and at better prices.

I really got down to figuring then. After I had it all worked out on paper, I went back to the house.

Mary had dinner on the table. I crossed over to the cradle in the corner and looked down at my sleeping son. For once he wasn’t being held by someone. He sure had changed already. His face was round and smooth and his nose and eyes were no longer red and swollen like they’d been when he was newborn. He had lost some of his dark hair too, but Mary didn’t seem concerned about it. Babies did that, she said. Actually he was getting prettier and prettier—if boy babies don’t mind being called “pretty.” Lots of folks said he favored me, but every time I looked at him I saw glimpses of Mary.

“Been sleepin’ like that most of the morning,” boasted Mary. She had come to stand beside me. I slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. The future didn’t look nearly as bad with her beside me and our son to love and nourish.

“Your dinner’s gettin’ cold,” Mary reminded me. I joined Grandpa and Uncle Charlie at the table, and we bowed our heads while I sincerely thanked God for His many blessings.

I could have discussed my plans over our noon meal, but I chose to wait until Mary and I were alone. William had awakened and insisted on being changed and fed immediately, and Mary cooed and smiled and went off to oblige. I went up to see them as soon as I had finished my bread pudding.

“He’s been good, huh?” I asked, sitting beside Mary and lifting one of William’s wee hands in mine. It looked rather lost there.

“Real good,” said Mary, kissing his soft head.

We sat and admired William for a few minutes longer. He sure was growing fast.

“I’m going to be gone for most of the afternoon,” I informed Mary.

She looked up, waiting.

“We’ll need most of the crop for seed. I decided to sell off some of the stock so we don’t need to worry none about winter feedin’.”

“Couldn’t we just buy us some more grain?” Mary asked innocently.

“I think it’s better this way,” I said without emotion. I didn’t add that we didn’t have money for more grain. Didn’t even have enough money for the payment at the bank.

Mary nodded, quite willing that it would be my decision. She trusted me. That very fact made my stomach knot up.

“You going to ship?” she asked, knowing that market hogs and cattle were shipped from town by train.

“Think I’ll give the local farmers a chance. They’re always talkin’ about my herds and wishin’ they could add some of my stock to theirs.”

Mary nodded again and I could see the pride in her eyes.

I kissed them both and went on down to saddle Chester.

I rode all afternoon—from farm to farm, and the story was always the same. No one had feed. No one had money. Over and over I heard the same words.