Read The Love Letters Online

Authors: Beverly Lewis

Tags: #FIC053000, #FIC042000, #FIC026000

The Love Letters (8 page)

BOOK: The Love Letters
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They headed inside, where Dorcas was already dishing up some strawberry ice cream, as if she'd anticipated them. Had their daughter overheard their arguing?

Ellie cringed and looked around the kitchen. Other than Dorcas, it was empty of children. Sassy was rubbing against the table legs.

Where's Small Jay?
Ellie asked Dorcas with her eyes, and her daughter shook her head faintly.

“Girls! Jake!” her husband called. “Ice cream's a-meltin'.”

Julia and Sally gathered quickly, their spoons sinking into their ice cream even before their big sister or Dat sat down.


Puh!
What'd you two forget?” Roman asked.

Promptly, both girls folded their hands and bowed their heads, Julia's face as crimson as a beet.

Ellie stood still, waiting to make her way to the table. It was then she heard Small Jay clumping down the steps. Sassy meowed, undoubtedly sensing something was up, and Ellie shielded her heart for what was to come.

Chapter 8

M
arlena had always heard it was unwise to tiptoe about while a baby slept. It was far better to ease the infant into the normal activity of the household—doing things as usual, going about the daily routine.

But after Ellie Bitner left, Marlena felt so exhausted that she found herself moving lightly about her bedroom, hoping the baby wouldn't awaken before she herself had the chance to relax a bit. She looked forward to washing up, though she would not shower until tomorrow morning in the makeshift area partitioned off from the washroom down in the cellar.

She slipped into one of her lightweight nightgowns and made her way silently to bed, where she sat still enough to hear the baby's breathing. Then she reached for her Bible to read a passage like her parents always did at bedtime.
Devout Dat and Mamma,
she thought fondly. Mamma had called just a while ago to see how Angela Rose was settling in. She'd also taken a moment to confide to Marlena that she hoped having the baby there might help Mammi get over her deep grief.
“Especially with you there to
bear most of the burden of Angela's care.”
And Marlena conceded that Mamma might be right.
Who can resist a darling baby?

Earlier, Marlena had set the room in order, placing the diaper pail near the crib, having put in a mix of water and blue detergent. She had no changing table, so for now she would have to use her bed, with a waterproof pad beneath the baby's bottom. The newly purchased diapers were stacked on the dresser near the crib, along with baby powder and lotion and a number of diaper pins. She'd made room in one of the drawers for the few baby gowns, tiny undershirts, and all-in-one sleepers brought from Luella's house by Aunt Becky. As far as Marlena could see, Becky hadn't brought any little dresses or jumpers, but she guessed that didn't matter. Not just yet.

The temperature upstairs was slightly cooler from having opened the outside door to the balcony earlier. She was surprised the baby was sleeping so peacefully in this heat. Going across the hall to the vacant bedroom, she opened the windows wide and returned to do the same in her room—the bedroom where she and Luella had always slept when the family visited.

Does my sister know who's taking care of her baby?
Marlena sat on the cane-back chair, watching Angela Rose's little tummy rise and fall. With everything in her, she hoped all would be well with Luella. And silently she beseeched God yet again to watch over her sister.
And help those in charge get word to Gordon, too. . . .

Thinking of the years she and her older sister had come here to help with summer gardening and canning, Marlena waited for the sky to turn completely dark before lying on the bed, pondering the baby's seeming resistance to her. Tomorrow, an
abundance of garden produce and more strawberries would need to be picked and preserved, and then in two days, market day.
We need to borrow a stroller from someone,
she realized.

She recalled Ellie's thoughtful offer that Dorcas could watch Angela Rose. At least there was that. Even so, it was evident to her how ill-prepared she was to look after Luella's baby for longer than a few days.

Just then she imagined her poor sister lying in a hospital bed.
Is she conscious . . . aware of her situation?
And if so, was she missing Angela as much as Angela was clearly missing her?

Feeling too tired to sleep, Marlena turned over and sighed, mentally composing her next letter to Nat. She wanted to share all of her happiness over his telephone call and the many things that came to her drowsy mind, till at last she fell into a deep sleep.

Ellie sat on the chair across the room from their bed, wearing her mint green duster. Roman was stretched out on the bed, still muttering things that continued to upset her. How would she ever feel settled enough to rest?

“Small Jay gets by with a lot,” Roman said grimly.

“I think he's just forgetful.”

“Maybe he hides behind his disabilities. Have ya considered that?”

She wanted to say right back to him that it was wrong to utter such unfounded statements. But she'd said enough already this night.
Too much.
Besides, they weren't going to solve anything now, not as worn out as they both were.

So she would just sit there and wait till his first few snores, then slip into bed. At times like this, she thought back to the
days when her husband's eyes were tender, even mischievous, and she missed that Roman. Oh, did she ever.

Down the hallway, faint whispers mixed with occasional giggles. Most likely her two youngest girls were feeling warm and restless, sharing a bed in the muggy house. Small Jay and Dorcas each had their own south-facing rooms, where the breezes came more readily through more windows.

Leaning her head toward the whispers, Ellie smiled, not interested in going to shush Julia and Sally. Such pleasant, familiar sounds.

Some of us are happy. . . .

Ofttimes she could hear Small Jay talking in his sleep, sounding a lot like the way he talked to his cat.

Stretching, she relaxed enough to yawn, thankful for each of her children—though she couldn't help recalling the stressful discussion with her husband earlier, when she'd returned from visiting Marlena Wenger.
I really must count my blessings more and fret far less.

Ellie awakened suddenly, rigid as kindling. She shook herself and rose from the chair, creeping to the dresser to look at the day clock.
One o'clock.

She'd fallen asleep in Roman's big armchair. Not the first time, but definitely the longest. Nighttime breezes were beginning to cool the house, and she was glad she'd thought to leave the upstairs windows open. On such a starry night, there was no chance of rain.

Roman murmured in his sleep. Wearing her slippers, she turned toward the door and stepped into the hall, going to check on the children, as she sometimes did at night.

In the first bedroom to the right of the hallway, she leaned on the doorframe, peering in. Her heart caught in her throat at the sight of Julia's blond hair flowing over her slender shoulders. Evidently, she'd pushed the sheet back, or kicked it off. Her long, graceful arm draped over little Sally, who was scrunched down a bit, her chubby hand resting on her pillow, strawberry-blond braids still wound around her head.
Too busy to bother brushing,
Ellie thought, helpless not to smile down at the two of them. Stepping into the room, she went to the bed and lifted the sheet, pulling it up to their waists before leaving the room.

Across the hall, Dorcas was primly tucked in, her white cotton coverlet secured over her slight frame. Ellie felt her forehead, wet with perspiration. Moving to the window, she paused to raise the shade to let in more air, then turned to stand at the footboard. Silently, she asked the Lord God heavenly Father to guide this daughter's every step toward adolescence.
Coming ever so quickly.

She made her way next door to Small Jay's room. As he always did at bedtime, he'd left his door only cracked open, so his cat wouldn't roam about the house. Roman had been unwavering against having a barn cat, or any animal for that matter, stay in the house, back two years ago. But Small Jay had won the day, and they had all warmed up to Sassafras in a short time, Roman included, and before long her husband had surprised her by agreeing to allow the cat to sleep on Small Jay's bed. Not under the covers, though—that went without saying.

Ellie peered into the room, moving the door open to squeeze through, and saw that the two window shades were up as high as they could possibly go, wound tightly at the top of the window frame.
He stood on the chair again.

Shaking her head, she wondered why her son was determined to take risks like that, and she thought once more of Roman's remarks.

Sassafras had managed to edge up close to Small Jay's pillow. Ellie stepped near, taking in the tranquil scene, grateful to God for this gentle-spirited child.
Our truest gift,
she thought, deeming him a blessing despite the ongoing struggles.

She turned to leave, but Small Jay moved in his sleep, and she noticed a piece of paper, folded in two, which slipped out of his hand and onto the bedsheet.
What's this?
She picked it up and went to the open window to read it.

This is only for practice. My name
is Dr. Calvert, but please call me Boston.

Ellie found this strange, even startling. Where had Small Jay received such a note? And who was Dr. Calvert? She had no knowledge of a Brownstown doctor by that name. Had her son been taken privately to see a physician—without her knowledge? If so, who would do such a thing?

She pushed the puzzling message into the pocket of her duster and, with a troubled heart, cracked the door open the way she'd found it before returning to her own bedroom.

Marlena dreamed she heard the mournful strains of a harmonica, then awakened to a squirrel pattering across the roof. With a start, she sat up in the moonlit room, uncertain where she was. A baby whimpered, tiny feet thumping against the crib mattress just a yard or so from her bed. In her sluggish stupor, Marlena got out of bed and leaned on the crib railing to look down at Luella's wee one. As before, the wrenching cries rapidly became shrill sobs, even after she reached for
Angela Rose and placed her gently on her own bed to change her diaper. Then Marlena carefully hurried downstairs, her niece in her arms.

BOOK: The Love Letters
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ads

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