Waiting for Summer's Return (30 page)

34

H
OW APPROPRIATE THE
message etched on the ornate granite tombstone Nadine had chosen for Horace, Summer thought as she stood beside the gravesite with her mother-in-law.

“You know,” Nadine said softly, “when I chose this spot for Horace’s final resting place, I thought I would bring the children here to picnic and visit.”

Summer glanced around, drinking in the beauty of the surrounding landscape. The Bennington Street Cemetery’s shaded grounds, which received ocean breezes from the Harbor, was a lovely spot to picnic. She took Nadine’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry the children aren’t here, but I’m here, Mother.”

Nadine sighed. “Yes, you are. And I appreciate your company, Summer.”

Summer relished those words. Who would have thought that she and Nadine would ever share a loving relationship? Yet, over the past months, Nadine had grown in her knowledge of God’s love and had, in turn, bestowed tender care on Summer. Nadine had come to mean a great deal to Summer, and she knew the woman loved her, too.

“Summer, I wish to make a trip to Kansas.”

Summer jerked her hand away and turned a startled gaze on Nadine. “You—you want to
what
?”

Nadine pursed her lips. “Summer, kindly do not raise your voice to me in this somber surrounding.”

“I apologize.” Summer took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “But you took me by surprise.”

“I assumed my idea would meet with your approval,” Nadine said. “You’ve spoken of the friendships you forged in that Kansas town.” She pursed her lips. “I can never recall the name …”

“Gaeddert.” Summer pressed her hand to her throat.

“Gaeddert,” Nadine repeated. “There is even a house in which we could stay while visiting. The boy’s last letter indicated the house still sits empty, so perhaps we could stay in it rather than share a hotel room.” She tipped her head. “Do you not want to see the people again?”

Faces paraded through Summer’s mind, coupled with a fierce longing. Her eyes slipped closed, her lips tipped into a smile, her breathing increased. Oh yes, Summer desired to see the people again …

“Summer?”

Nadine’s soft voice brought Summer’s eyes open.

“What are your thoughts?”

For long moments Summer stood silent, her gaze beyond Horace’s headstone. She sucked on her lower lip, organizing her thoughts. It had taken weeks for the deep ache of missing Peter and Thomas to lessen. Wouldn’t a visit reactivate the pain? “It—it is a lengthy journey. Are you sure you want to go?”

Nadine lifted her chin. “I wish to visit the graves of my son and my grandchildren. I wish to say my final good-byes to them. Will you deny me that?”

Summer’s shoulders slumped. How could she refuse? “When—when do you wish to go?”

Nadine looped her hand through Summer’s arm and began moving toward the carriage. “Train schedules need to be checked and tickets purchased. I must make arrangements for Clarence and Mildred to be in charge of the house during our absence. I would think a week of preparation would be enough.”

Summer watched the toes of her shoes move across the grass. “We’d be there in two weeks …” Her breath came in little spurts.

“However,” Nadine considered, pausing in her walk, “perhaps we need to give those in Gaeddert a bit more notice. You’ll want to send a letter, and that will take several days to reach them. They will probably need to give the little house a cleaning. Let’s try to arrive the first week of June.”

Nearly a month instead of two weeks. Summer’s gaze bounced upward. An entire month? The anticipation might drive her mad!

Nadine asked, “Do you find that agreeable?”

In slow motion, Summer nodded. “Yes. Yes, I find that agreeable.”

“Good.” Nadine put her arm around Summer’s waist and gave her a brief hug. A cunning look crossed the woman’s face. “Oh, and before we go, you will visit a dress shop. You must set aside those black gowns. The time of mourning is over.”

“Look what I have, boy,” Peter announced as he stepped through the front door. It did his heart good to see
Grossmutter
in her chair, watching as Thomas stirred something on the stove. He was glad the old woman had not complained when he’d hired the oldest Schmidt girl, Malinda, to do household chores each afternoon. The slowing down on work—and the prayers offered by him and the boy—had helped her regain her strength.

Thomas set aside the wooden spoon and moved toward his father. “What is it?”

Peter held out the envelope. “A letter from Summer.”

Grossmutter
sat up straight. A smile broke across her face. “Summer.”

“Summer!” Thomas reached for it with both hands. “Let me see, Pa! I’ll read it to us!”

Peter chuckled as he placed the letter in Thomas’s outstretched hands. “This eager you should be to do your schoolwork,
ja
?”

Thomas grinned as he tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter. Peter peeked at the neat lines of script covering both sides of the single sheet of paper. Just the sight of the words, penned by Summer’s graceful hand, made his heart beat in a happy rhythm.

Thomas plopped down at the table and read aloud.

“Dear Thomas, Peter, and Lena,

I have a surprise for you. I hope it will be a happy surprise. Nadine has decided she would like to visit the graves of her son and grandchildren, to say good-bye to them, so she will be traveling to Gaeddert. Of course, I will be traveling with her. This means I will be seeing you soon. I am looking forward to visiting with you. I have missed you. I want to see how tall Thomas has grown. I want to taste Lena’s good borscht. I want to hear Peter’s loud laugh that makes me want to laugh, too.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. His laugh made her feel happy inside? He had not known this. But when he interrupted, it was to ask a different question. “It says she comes for a visit, is that right, boy?”

Thomas scanned the letter. “Yes, Pa—she looks forward to visiting with us.”

Peter’s heart fell, but he still smiled. “Ah, good. We all will enjoy to have a visit with Summer.”

Grossmutter
waved her gnarled hand and demanded in German to know what the letter said.

Peter obliged her by translating it. The woman’s face lit in a happy smile.

Thomas lifted the letter again and continued.

“Nadine and I will arrive by Marion and McPherson Railway at the depot in Hillsboro on the fourth of June. The stationmaster indicated the train’s arrival time to be two o’clock in the afternoon. I sincerely hope Peter will be available to pick us up and transport us to Gaeddert.”

Peter’s heart increased its tempo. He would set aside anything else to go meet the train.

“Pa? Can I go, too? I’ll be out of school.”

Although Peter would rather meet the woman alone, he knew it was selfish to ask the boy to stay behind. “If Malinda will come stay with
Grossmutter,
you may go.”

Thomas beamed. “Thank you!” He bent his head back to the letter.

“If it would not be too much trouble, Nadine and I would like to stay in the house you built near the graves. I am assuming, of course, that it has not been purchased. If it is unavailable, we will take rooms at the hotel. If we are able to stay at the house, it will no doubt require a cleaning prior to our arrival. Could you hire someone from town to take care of this? Nadine and I will pay them when we arrive. You are familiar with young people who might appreciate earning a little extra pocket money, so I trust you to find someone reliable.”

“Summer sure uses big words, Pa,” Thomas said. “Kind of hard to read sometimes.”

“You are doing fine,” Peter praised. “Big words are good to learn. Someday you may need to know them and use them.” Especially if Thomas went away to a school in a big city, as he and the woman had discussed. “So you pay attention,
ja
?”

The boy scratched his head. “Okay, Pa.”

“Is that all she says?”

“No. There’s more.” Thomas turned back to the letter.

“I am so happy to tell you Nadine has accepted God’s love for herself. You are all very good teachers. What I learned from you I was able to share with Nadine. I believe the angels in heaven sang when Nadine made the decision to accept Jesus into her heart, just as they must have sung for me. Thank you for your kind teaching. Your lessons are reaching eternity.”

Thomas frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It is like when you throw a pebble in the water, and the circles keep getting bigger and bigger, and finally they touch the bank. All from one little pebble. When you tell one person about God, and he tells somebody else, it adds another circle.”

Thomas gave an eager nod. “And all the circles will touch heaven someday, right, Pa?”

The boy’s grasp of the idea of spreading God’s word made Peter’s chest expand in pride. What a smart boy. What a good boy. Peter reached out and pulled his son close in a hug. “You are right, boy. And you remember to share God’s love just the way you did with Summer. God’s love is not something to be kept hidden, for sure.”

A scraping noise captured Peter’s attention. He released the boy to look toward his bedroom. There, through the open doorway, he saw
Grossmutter
’s backside. She bent forward, and by her slow motions, he knew she tugged at something.

Crossing to the doorway, he peered in. He had moved Summer’s chair into the corner of his bedroom so Thomas and
Grossmutter
would not have to be always reminded of her absence. Now
Grossmutter
was attempting to drag the chair from the room. He jumped in front of her and took the chair from her.

Her eyes sparked. She pointed to the main room.
“Setzen sie den stuhl in die kuüche ein!”

Peter nodded as a smile tugged at his face. He would put the chair in the kitchen, as she wished if she would move aside and allow him to do it. She waddled back to the kitchen and sat in her rocking chair, watching as he carried Summer’s chair into the room. He started to put it down, but she snapped,
“Nein!”
and pointed where she wanted it. He obeyed.

Once the chair was in position next to
Grossmutter
’s, the old woman smiled in satisfaction. She patted the armrest of Summer’s chair and murmured to herself.

Thomas sighed. “June fourth. Only three more weeks and Summer will be here.” Then he burst out laughing. “I made a joke, Pa! Summer the lady and summer the season will both be here at the same time.”

Ja,
Peter thought, tousling his son’s hair.
Both bring a welcome warmth to my heart. But I wish my Summer was staying longer than a season
.

35

S
UMMER SMOOTHED THE
skirt of her new twill dress. Her white gloves appeared to glow against the vivid color of the fabric. She grimaced. Had she made the wrong choice in her attire?

When she had spotted the gown in the window of Miss Fannie’s Dress Shop on Boylston Street, she had fallen in love on the spot. After wearing black for so many months, the bold reddish purple dress had thrilled her eyes. The moment she slipped it over her head, Nadine declared it a perfect choice. Never had Summer paid more than six dollars for a dress, but Nadine had insisted on that, too. She admitted she felt feminine and attractive in the gown with its pleated front and velvet butterfly half belt. The dress was beautiful and flattering—there was no doubt.

But was it appropriate for Gaeddert?

In less than an hour they would reach Hillsboro. Peter would be waiting—in his chambray work shirt, tan trousers, and thick boots, with his little plaid hat in his big gentle hands. What would he think when she stepped off the train? Would he disapprove of her city finery? She touched her traveling hat—a purple velvet bowler with a raven’s wing sweeping back on its right side—and she wished again she had chosen something more demure. Not so blatantly
Boston
.

Her mother-in-law’s attire was nearly as flashy as Summer’s. Although Nadine had chosen a more matronly shade of deep myrtle green, her dress was styled in the latest fashion, with leg-of-mutton sleeves and gold braid trim. Nadine had insisted on a thorough washing and a change of clothes at the last stop, so Summer felt as fresh as was possible given the heat of this early June day. Yet she was certain neither Hillsboro nor Gaeddert had ever witnessed such gowns. She sighed.

Nadine turned from the window. “Sleepy?”

“No. I was just thinking.”

“About?” Nadine prompted.

Summer bit down on the inside of her lip. Would Nadine understand her concern even if she voiced it? Probably not. Nadine had never lived anywhere but Boston. She had always moved in the circles of high society. Gaeddert’s simplicity would be alien to her. Summer sighed again.

Nadine took her hand. “Are you worried you’ll find the people changed from when you were here before? The friendships perhaps not as important as they once were?”

Although that wasn’t Summer’s biggest concern at the moment, she did admit to wondering whether Peter’s feelings had changed. She had seen love shine in his eyes that day at the train station, had felt it in his hug and heard it in his gruff, pained voice. The old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder had certainly proved true for her. Her love for Peter had continued to blossom despite the distance between them. But what of Peter’s love for her? Had it dimmed with the passage of time?

She finally answered. “I suppose there’s always that fear when one has been away for a while. Nothing stays the same, does it?”

A soft smile tipped up Nadine’s lips. “No, my dear, life does not stay the same. But are you not the one who keeps telling me God has good plans for His children? Perhaps you should relax and allow Him to be in control, hmm?”

Summer released a light laugh. “Oh, how wonderful it is to hear you speak of God so easily!”

Nadine gave Summer’s knee a brisk pat. “Everything will be fine, I promise you.”

Summer remembered making a promise to Nadine the day she arrived in Boston. Her promise to help Nadine find joy again had come to fruition. What a wonderful change had occurred in her mother-in-law’s outlook on life. Summer sighed. She could take any change save one—a change in Peter’s feelings toward her.
Please, Lord, prepare my heart. If his love has changed, let me accept it as your will. But, heavenly Father, I do still love him so….

Peter pulled his watch from the little pocket inside his suit jacket and peered at the numbers again. Only three minutes had passed since the last time he had checked it. With a huff of disgust at his own impatience, he replaced the watch and tugged the hem of his jacket back into place.

Thomas stood beside his father, also dressed in his Sunday clothes. The boy shifted his shoulders and pulled a face. “My shirt’s scratching me, Pa. Why did we have to get dressed up, anyway?” The boy’s cranky tone told of his impatience at the waiting.

“We are dressed for a special occasion,” Peter reminded his son. “Summer coming back for a visit is special, so we dress to tell her how pleased we are.”

Thomas released a breath of disgust. “Well, it’s too hot in the sun.”

Beads of sweat dribbled down Peter’s forehead and his underarms felt moist. He hoped the dark spots would not show on his good black suit jacket. He touched the little knot of his ribbon tie and wished he could loosen it. Uncomfortable he felt, too. Yet, as much as he agreed with the boy, he would not move from this spot until the train arrived. He pointed to some trees on the east side of Ash Street. “If you are too hot, go stand in the shade over there. Just take care you do not get your clothes dirty.”

“Okay, Pa.” The boy trotted across the street and circled one of the tree trunks in slow motion, as if examining the ground. His circle complete, he leaned against the trunk and scraped his toe in the dirt.

Peter watched for a few minutes until he felt sure the boy would not start playing. Then he turned his attention back to the silver lines of track. The sun bounced off the rails in glaring rays. Peter squinted, his eyes watering, but he did not avert his attention. Soon, around that bend, would come an M and M Railway engine. Behind that engine would be passenger cars. And in one of those cars would be Summer.

His heart picked up its pace at the thought of her name. In his mind he held a picture from the last moments he had spent with her on this very boardwalk. Her face had been pale, her dark eyes sad and glittering with tears. Their good-bye had been rushed, unsatisfying. After this visit, he would make sure they had a chance for a decent leave-taking. No more rushing and lost words and unfinished thoughts. This time they would do it right.

From the distance, a whistle came—a hollow sound, like an echo. He straightened his shoulders and tipped forward as if fighting against a brisk wind. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes strained for the first glimpse of the engine. Then his heart flew into his throat. Around the bend—smoke streaming from its stack, wheels gliding along the track, whistle calling its warning—here it came!

“Here she comes, Pa!” Thomas huffed up beside his father’s elbow.

Peter was not sure if the boy referred to the train or Summer. “
Ja,
she comes, for sure!”

They stood together, eyes pinned to the train. The vibration beneath Peter’s feet sent shivers of awareness to the roots of his hair. He yanked off his hat and held it against his left thigh. The wind touched his newly trimmed hair and dried his eyes, but he did not blink. He feared he would miss his first glimpse of her if he closed his eyes for even a second.

“Come on, Pa!” Thomas grabbed his father’s hand and pulled.

Peter’s feet would not move. He stayed in place, his body tense, his heart thumping in anticipation. A porter hopped down from the first passenger car to place a small wooden stool on the ground beneath the single metal step.

“Let’s go meet her, Pa!”

Thomas’s tone sounded fretful now, but still Peter remained rooted in place. Fresh sweat broke out between his shoulder blades and across his forehead. His eyes hurt from forcing them open against the wind and sun.

The porter assisted a young woman from the train to the ground. She wore a fancy dress the same color as the blooms on ironweed that grew wild on the prairie. Another woman—older, her dress the color of the top side of ironweed leaves—followed the first woman. Peter swallowed hard as his focus jerked toward the train again, waiting for more people to disembark. Where was Summer?

“Pa, that’s her!” Thomas nearly yanked Peter’s arm from its socket. “Come on!”

Peter blinked twice before squinting hard at the two women. The younger one … could it be? Then she turned to face him, and he recognized the delicate chin and dark eyes of his Summer. He felt his heart catch. Summer … how different she appeared.

He knew when she saw him. A smile lit her face, and she left the side of the older woman to rush forward, her bright skirts swirling, her hands outstretched. Thomas released his father’s arm and raced to meet her. The two embraced, their laughter ringing out, with Summer’s slender arms around the boy. But her gaze remained on Peter’s face. She whispered something in the boy’s ear, and Thomas scampered toward the back of the train.

And still Peter did not move.

Time seemed to stand still while Summer approached him. Slowly. As if gliding. Her skirts swept the wooden walkway. Her gloved hands, with fingertips touching, rested against her waist. She stopped—the distance of one pace between them—and peered upward. The brim of her funny little hat shaded her forehead, but he could see her eyes. Dark, hopeful eyes.

“Hello, Peter.”

How could such a simple greeting cause such a big reaction? Peter took a shuddering breath to calm his jumbled nerves. He felt his lips quiver with his smile. Finally he managed to answer. “Hello, Summer. It is … it is good to see you again.”

He did not wish to be formal. He wished to sweep her into his arms and welcome her with a kiss that would speak all the things his heart felt. But here in the sun with people nearby and her in a hat with a bird’s wing on it? His lips felt dry. He licked them and asked, “A good trip you had?” His voice sounded odd to his ears.

“Yes.” Her stilted speech did not match the warmth in her eyes. “Yes, we had a good trip.” Then her eyes flew wide and one hand rose to grasp her slender neck. “Oh!” She spun away from him, her hand reaching toward the older woman, who remained alone beside the passenger car. “Nadine, I’m so sorry. Please join us.”

The older woman took hold of her skirts and walked gingerly across the dusty ground toward them. When she reached Summer’s side, Summer placed her arm around the other woman’s waist and smiled up at Peter. “Peter Ollenburger, please meet my mother-inlaw, Mrs. Nadine Steadman.”

The woman extended her hand, and Peter took it briefly, nodding. “It is good to meet you,
Frau
Steadman.”

“Likewise, Mr. Ollenburger.”

The older woman seemed to take stock of him, and he felt his neck grow hot. He did not know what to say. His clumsy brain fumbled for words, but before he could find any, Thomas struggled onto the walkway, weighted down by two large bags. The women had planned a lengthy visit, it appeared.

“I got your bags, Summer! Can we go now, Pa?”

“
Ja. Ja,
we will go. The wagon”—he gestured toward the street—“it is over there. Come.” He reached for the bags.

“I can get ’em,” Thomas insisted. “C’mon! Summer, wait’ll you see Patches!”

The boy led the way, still jabbering. The women fell into step behind him, and Peter followed. He remembered how he had first wanted to come alone to get Summer and her mother-in-law. Now he felt grateful he had brought his son. Thomas’s cheerful chatter would fill the uncomfortable silence between the adults.

Even as he lifted Summer into the wagon—his heart pattering with remembrance of other times of performing this courtesy—he wondered at the awkwardness between them. She appeared so … different. Elegant. Her dark eyes were the same, but they seemed to now reside within a stranger’s form.

“Pa, let’s go!”

Thomas’s call reminded him he had been standing beside the wagon staring upward for too long. He felt heat climb his cheeks—a heat not brought on by the summer sun. Slapping his hat onto his head, he gave a brusque nod and headed around to his side of the wagon. He looked at the seat and realized there would not be room for him with both Summer and her mother-in-law there. He hesitated, unsure what to do.

Then Summer solved the problem herself. “I’ll sit in the back with Thomas.” She rose, looking expectantly at Peter. “Will you assist me, please?”

He scurried to the side of the wagon and lifted her out. When he set her feet on the ground, she did not move her hands from his shoulders right away, but looked at him with a winsome expression. His breath came fast and hard, and he wished once more they could be alone and he could just kiss her and see what happened. Her hands slipped away, and she moved to the rear of the wagon. He removed the tailgate so she could climb in. He offered her his hand, his heart thrumming at the feel of her slender fingers clasping his. She settled beside Thomas with her legs bent to the side and her skirts sweeping to cover her feet. Even sitting in the back of wagon she looked graceful.

And very out of place.

Summer stood on the porch of her Gaeddert house and watched Nadine. Her mother-in-law had insisted on visiting the little gravesite alone, and now she stood inside the picket fence in front of the row of headstones with her hands clasped behind her back. Summer could imagine Nadine’s sorrow as she faced the sandstone markers that served as a visual reminder of all she had lost.

On the way from Hillsboro, Thomas had jabbered nonstop, and Nadine had whispered how like Tod he was with his cheerful spirit. Yes, Thomas had talked, but Peter had not uttered a word. Although his face had shown joy at her arrival, it seemed only moments later he shut himself away from her. The air nearly crackled with tension despite the boy’s happy prattle.