Wonderful Lonesome (38 page)

She turned her head toward the activity around the barn. Reuben, Daniel, her father, and the
English
man had created an efficient system for transferring the hay.

Willem followed her gaze. “I see your
daed
is following through on his decision.”

She nodded.

“We all understand his choice,” Willem said.

“I don’t. I wish he would at least wait to see what moisture the winter brings, but he seems intent on making sure he can’t change his mind.”

Willem let the silence drape the space between them for a moment, knowing the comfort of his arms would only add to her confusion.

“I could carry a note back to Mrs. Wood, if you like,” he finally said.

“I have nothing to write on. I’ll have to go to the house and see if I can find a suitable scrap of paper.” Abbie lifted a hand to control a sniffle.

“She won’t expect anything fancy. She does not share our ways, but she understands them.”

Thirty minutes later Abbie handed Willem the note and waved as he scrambled up to the bench of his wagon in three practiced motions.

The
English
wagon was about as full as it could be, bales carefully stacked and balanced to withstand the sway of the ride to their new home. Abbie did not know the man, nor how he had heard about the Weaver hay. Reuben and Daniel lifted the last bale into place and the
English
shook Ananias’s hand. Abbie turned her head as the cash passed between them. She glanced into the field and wondered how many more hours—or perhaps only minutes—would pass before the cows would take a final nibble of Weaver land before being roped and led behind a horse or a wagon.

She resolved not to watch. There were half a dozen ways to make herself useful for the rest of the day without listening for the sound of dread to fill her spirit.

Ananias approached. “Did you see that the boys put your trunk in your room?”

“Yes.” How could she miss a trunk that sat where Eber’s cradle had stood only a few days ago? Abbie measured her steps toward the house so as not to seem eager to escape her father’s eye.

“Let me know when you’ve packed it. The boys can carry it out to the barn for a few days.”

“A few days?”

Ananias nodded. “Once the cows are gone I should have what I need for the train tickets.”

“So soon?” Her heart pounded.

“Abigail,” he said, “we’ve already talked about this. We may as well be expedient.”

“I know.” She tried to stride ahead of her father, but he kept pace.

“You can take your hope chest, too, of course. I know you’ve prepared those items with care for your marriage, and there is no reason they should go to waste.”

Abbie struck the ground with the heel of her right foot and rolled it forward for balance, but she did not pick it up again.
“Daed.”

“Yes?” He halted beside her.

“I have decided I want to stay.” She scoured his face for a reaction and did not have to wait long.

Ananias’s jaw tensed as he spread his feet under his shoulders, knees locked. “Has Willem finally chosen to take a wife?”

“Not so far as I know.”

Ananias waited for more.

“I do not wish to disrespect you,
Daed
,” Abbie said, “but my calling is here.”

“Your calling is to your husband, though I am somewhat relieved that you and Willem realize your differences. Rudy is much more suited to you. He is less likely to wander from the true faith.”

Abbie flushed. Had Rudy spoken to her father? Until now, she had not thought so.

“I have made no decision about a husband.” Abbie cradled her own elbows. “I have accepted a position with an
English
family.”

Ananias raised two fingers to one temple. “Perhaps I have misjudged you as well.”

“No,
Daed
. My heart belongs to our people. But it also belongs here in Colorado.”

“I do not hear you asking for my consent.”

She paused. “May I have your blessing?”

Ananias resumed walking toward the house. Abbie trembled.

Abbie did not have one dress that was better than another. She had three, and all of them lacked in some way. One had frayed cuffs, another faded color, and the third mended seams. This had never mattered to her before, but somehow in Louise Wood’s home, Abbie felt self-conscious. Perhaps it was the china arranged on the table for tea or the damask tablecloth or the wave of Louise’s sweeping golden hair held in place with a pearl-ridged comb. Louise’s dress was a muted solid color, but Abbie suspected it was what the
English
called Sunday best.

“Everything looks lovely,” Abbie said, because it did.

“Don’t mind the fuss.” Louise gestured to a chair at the end of the dining room table. “Every now and again I like to give Fin a chance to practice his manners.”

“I’m anxious to meet him.” Abbie arranged herself in the chair.

“Excuse me while I call Fin.”

Louise stepped from the room, and Abbie allowed herself to absorb the room in more detail. Yellow chintz curtains draped from three matching windows against a pale green wallpaper print. In spite of the china and tablecloth, the tea offering was fairly simple: rolls in a bread warmer, a tea pot in a cozy, a few slices of cheese, and a bowl of red grapes. When Abbie heard the shuffle of feet in the next room, she wondered if Fin was as nervous as she was. A moment later, Louise appeared in the wide doorframe that separated the dining room from the front parlor with her hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Fin, this is Miss Weaver,” Louise said.

Fin folded one arm across his stomach and bowed. “I am very pleased to meet you.”

“And I you,” Abbie said.

The boy approached her and offered a handshake, which Abbie accepted immediately.

“I hope you will feel comfortable in our home,” he said.

Abbie smiled. The child was adorable in his navy blue suit and collared white shirt with his brown hair carefully parted and slicked down. She knew a boy who enjoyed being active on a ranch would not dress this way often, but he was making every effort to please his mother, just as Levi would have done.

They were going to get along just fine.

Outside the bank on Thursday morning, Willem straightened his suit and double-checked that the seam at the top of his shirt Abbie had mended a month ago still held. An oversized envelope contained assorted papers that may or may not be relevant to the day’s quest. He wanted to be prepared for any question.

Inside the bank, Willem surveyed the lobby. A half-dozen people stood in lines to see the three tellers on duty, and around the perimeter of the room were several imposing desks occupied by men with stern faces and airs of authority. Willem had an appointment with one of them, the chief loan officer. He caught the man’s eye and smiled as he crossed the lobby.

“Hello, Mr. Peters. Thank you for coming in this morning. I trust things are well on your farm.”

“Well enough, considering the challenges all the farms have faced this year.” Willem was determined not to sound pitiful. It would only impede progress toward his goal. “I have been a conscientious steward of my resources.”

The banker gestured to a chair opposite the desk. “What can I do for you today?”

Willem sat up straight with his papers in his lap. “You may be aware that several properties near mine have become available.”

“I have heard this, though I am not familiar with the particulars.” The banker adjusted his rimless glasses.

“Eber Gingerich passed away, and his widow decided to sell the land. And now Ananias Weaver has decided to return to Pennsylvania.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The loan officer thrummed the edge of his desk.

Willem resisted the urge to look to one side and kept his gaze fixed on the banker’s face. “Both of these farms abut my property, which has caused me to wonder if this might be the time to enlarge my acreage. In the future, a larger farm would yield greater profit.”

The banker leaned back in his chair. “Profitability in farming is subject to many circumstances. Number of acres is only one of them.”

“I believe it to be a solid starting point. I would like to look into buying one of these farms, or at least some portion of the acres. To do so, I would need a higher line of credit.”

“Mr. Peters, even the
English
farmers are having a tough go right now. The ranchers are doing a little better, but the drought has been difficult for everyone.”

Willem did not move, lest any gesture suggest a crack in confidence. “Farming requires taking the long view, does it not? If we do not make plans during the difficult years, we will not be prepared for the opportunity of abundance in the future.”

“Well, now, I suppose there is nothing to disagree with there, Mr. Peters. But this is a bank. I am a loan officer. Our decisions come down to taking acceptable risks.”

“I don’t believe I have given you any reason to regard me as an unacceptable risk.”

“No, not so far. But how would you make the increased payments that would come with a new loan when your farm has yielded so little in the last two years?”

“I’ve brought some papers that will demonstrate my assets beyond the value of my mortgaged land.” Willem slid the documents out of the envelope and laid them on the desk.

The loan officer leaned forward and began studying the papers. He flipped over several of them and looked up at Willem. “I grant you that you present a more encouraging picture than I had supposed, but it would still seem inadvisable for you to take on more debt.”

“If I failed to make my payments, the land would belong to the bank.”

“And it might be worth even less than it is now if drought and soil erosion continue. We would require a substantial down payment to hedge against that possibility.”

“How much?”

The banker named a figure.

“If I could come up with that amount,” Willem said, “would you consider my application?”

The banker cleared his throat. “I would agree to take the matter to the full loan committee, but I make no promise of the result you desire.”

“Fair enough.”

Willem collected his papers and returned to his wagon down the street. At the familiar lilt of a laugh, he turned his head.

“Willem!” Abbie said.

Beside her stood Rudy.

“We didn’t know you were coming into town,” Abbie said. “We could have all come together.”

We
. Willem was not sure he had ever heard Abbie use that word to describe Rudy and herself. And he was equally uncertain he could remember a time when Abbie had come to Limon with Rudy. Abbie had not laughed since before Eber died. What had Rudy said to raise her mood? Willem reminded himself he had no right to be jealous as he looked from Abbie to Rudy and observed that they stood close together.

“Have you just come from the bank?” Rudy’s blue eyes met Willem’s evenly.

“Yes. I had some financial business to attend to.” Willem dropped his envelope of papers onto the floor of the wagon.

Rudy pushed the fingertips of both hands together. “Perhaps it is no coincidence that you see the banker just as the farms around yours become available at an attractive price.”