Love's unfolding dream (Love Comes Softly Series #6) (18 page)

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raise a family--especially boys--alone.
Marty felt a chill at the very thought. She didn't know what she'd ever have done without Clark when the boys were growing up, not to speak of their daughters.

"Is the teacherage meetin' yer needs?" Clark was asking the woman. As chairman of the school board, it was up to him to find out.

"It's fine," said Mrs. Brown. "A bit crowded for the four of us, but fine. I guess we had a few more things than we really needed, but I just couldn't part with them--just yet."

She did not explain, but Marty felt she understood. "Ya lived right in town before?" Marty asked.

"Yes. My husband worked in the bank in Chester."

Marty was picturing a big frame or brick house with delicate curtains covering the windows and flowers blooming along a neat boardwalk up to a white front door.

"It must be quite an adjustment fer ya," she said, compassion in her voice.

"Yes," admitted Mrs. Brown. "Yes, it is."

"Had you taught before?" asked Clark.

"I was a schoolteacher when I came to Chester. That's where I met Carl--Mr. Brown. I taught for two years before we married--and a bit when the other teacher was down with pneumonia one winter. But Carl--Mr. Brown--wanted me to be at home. And then Jackson arrived, and I was happy to forget about schoolteaching. I likely would never have taken it up again if. . ."

But Mrs. Brown stopped. "I was so glad when I heard of the opening here," she continued, changing directions. "It was truly an answer to prayer--for all of us. We are so thankful for the opportunity." She turned to Clark, the person who had hired her. "I do hope I will live up to your expectations, Mr. Davis. If ever you question my--"

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"We are pleased with your work," Clark was quick to inform her. "Very pleased."

Mrs. Brown did not seem entirely comfortable.

Clark went on, "Now, no more talk of school," he said kindly. "Today you are not the schoolteacher--an' I am not the chairman of the board. We are neighbors--neighbors an' fellow members of the church. Let's fergit school an' jest have us a good neighborly visit."

Mrs. Brown smiled warmly. "I'd like that," she said simply, looking relaxed again.

So the visiting turned to other matters. The three Brown youngsters were included. Clark knew how to make each one feel welcome at his table.

After dinner Belinda and Melissa volunteered to do the dishes. Jordan--anticipation brightening his face--and Payne were allowed to run out to join Dan and David, who were towing their sleds toward the banks of the nearby creek. Marty led Mrs. Brown into the family living room to look at some new quilt patterns. That left Clark and Jackson. Clark suggested checkers and was answered by an enthusiastic grin.

Belinda could tell that Melissa was hurrying her through the dishes. She didn't have to ask why. Though Melissa had stopped giggling and tittering over Jackson, Belinda knew she still had a special interest in the boy. Belinda had noticed her giving him coy little smiles and watching for opportunities to be around him.

"I think Jackson likes me," Melissa whispered confidentially to Belinda as the girls worked at the dishes.

Belinda did not respond.

"Have you noticed the way he looks at me?" asked Melissa.

"How?" asked Belinda. She had noticed no difference in the way Jackson looked at Melissa or anyone else, but she didn't dare say so. Melissa seemed just a tad annoyed by the question. She no

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doubt had been hoping Belinda would simply say yes.

"Well. . . well. . . like he likes me," she finished lamely.

"Maybe so," said Belinda, refusing to take the bait. "Can't say I'd noticed anything particular."

"And we had such a good ride over here together," she continued, changing her approach. Belinda wanted to smile. She had seen with her own eyes the seating arrangement for the ride over.

Suddenly Belinda felt sorry for Melissa. Melissa really did like Jackson. Belinda liked Jackson, too, but she understood there was some difference in the way the two of them felt about the boy. Well, she wouldn't stand in Melissa's way. She loved Melissa. She had no desire to hurt her. After all, Melissa was a very generous person. She shared her books, she shared her wardrobe, she shared her friendship. It was asking too much to expect her to share her first love, as well. So Belinda held her tongue and smiled at Melissa in hopes that it would give her encouragement.

When the last of the dishes had been returned to the cupboards, Melissa removed her apron, rubbed a bit of sweet cream into her hands, and went to join the others in the living room. Belinda remained in the kitchen, wiping the table and hanging up the dish towels. She couldn't see what was happening, but she could figure it out by what she was hearing through the door.

The checker game must have ended in a draw, with Clark winning one match, Jackson another, and the third a stalemate.

"Yer good, boy," Clark congratulated him warmly as they pushed back the board and rose to their feet.

"Pa an' I used to play a lot," Jackson explained.

"Bet ya miss 'im."

"Yeah," the boy said quietly, sadness in his tone. "Yeah, I sure do."

Melissa's voice interrupted the conversation. "Care to see

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where the boys are sledding?" she asked Jackson.

"Sure," he replied.

"I'll get your coat," said Melissa.

She hurried through the kitchen to the coat pegs and was soon wearing her own coat and carrying Jackson's over her arm. Then she led the way back through the kitchen to the side door.

Belinda was still there. She had not yet removed her apron but was busy polishing the big black stove with a scrap of newspaper. Jackson stopped beside her.

"We're goin' out to see where the boys are sleddin'. Want to come?"

Belinda looked from Jackson to Melissa.

"I'm not quite done," she said simply. "You go on--"

"We'll wait," said Jackson. "Got lots of time. What you gotta do yet? Let me help." And so saying, Jackson took the paper from Belinda and began to vigorously rub the iron surface. Belinda cast Melissa a helpless look over his bent shoulders.

"Really, I . . . I was goin' to. . ."

Belinda lifted a stove lid and tossed the used paper into the firebox. She reached for a few sticks of wood to replenish the fire. They would want coffee or tea later, but already the cake was sitting in the pantry. There was really nothing else that needed doing. She had no more excuses.

She smiled at Jackson. "Well . . . I guess it's all done," she answered honestly.

"Then get out of that apron and grab your coat," instructed Jackson, and he reached to give the bow a playful tug.

Belinda moved away toward the hook on the wall, apparently to hang up her apron, but it was really to get out of reach of the boy.

Jackson lifted her coat from the coat hook on the back porch and held it for her. She shrugged it quickly onto her shoulders, avoiding any further help from him and any eye contact with

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Melissa, and the three of them went out into the brightness of the winter sunshine, squinting against the sun on snow.

From the creek came the shouts of young boys and the barking of the two farm dogs. The snow crunched underfoot, and even though frost hung thick in the air, the wind was not blowing and the day felt almost mild.

Belinda breathed deeply. She loved the crisp feel of winter. As long as one had a warm meal and a warm coat . . . For some reason, the face of the young boy who had lost his arm suddenly appeared in her mind. She knew instinctively that he would not be dressed for the sharpness of the winter weather. She sighed deeply. He had so many needs, that boy. She didn't even know his name. But Belinda ached to help him. She had been praying, just as her ma had suggested, but so far God hadn't seemed to give her any answers.

Jackson must have heard her sigh, and she could feel him looking at her. "Something wrong?" he asked, concern warming his voice.

Belinda felt her cheeks coloring. Surely he couldn't read her thoughts!

"No . . . no-o. Nothin'. I like the winter, thet's all. I mean, it's so--"

"Me too," Melissa the chatterbox broke in, obviously having no intentions of being left out. "It's so clean and fresh and bright. So bright! I think that it's even brighter than the West," she prattled on. "The sun seems so . . . so . . . intense here. . . or something. Oh, it's intense out west, too. Intense and bright and it shines most all the time, but here, there seems to be something different somehow"

Jackson glanced from Melissa back to Belinda.

"Do you like the winter, Jackson?" Melissa pressed.

"Guess so," he said laughing lightly. "Never thought much about it. Guess I just like summer a bit more."

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"Oh, me too," gushed Melissa. "I love the summer and the flowers and the birds! Out west we have wild flowers that grow all over on the hills. I used to go out and pick handfuls and handfuls of them in the spring," she enthused.

" 'Fraid I don't pick too many flowers." Jackson laughed again.

Melissa gave him a teasing smile. "Wouldn't be expecting you to be out picking flowers," she said. "It's not the kind of thing that a man does."

Jackson flushed a bit. He probably hadn't missed her term man." But Belinda found herself wondering why Melissa had said that. Why, Clark, her pa, picked flowers all the time. He was always bringing in a handful of one kind or another.
And Ma always looks at him kind of special,
she noted to herself,
when he gives them to her.
Her brothers brought flowers to Ma, too. She had seen them herself Whatever was wrong with a man picking flowers if he wanted to?

Belinda was still sorting it out when Jackson unexpectedly asked her, "Warm enough?"

"Fine. Jest fine," she quickly responded.

They reached the creek and stood watching the shrieking, sliding, tumbling boys as they frolicked on their favorite sliding bank. Jackson was grinning. "It looks like fun," he commented.

Belinda smiled in reply. "It is," she said. "I've spent hours out there."

"You have?"

She nodded.

"Never had a sled," said Jackson. "There wasn't anyplace to use one in town."

"Oh, you've missed a lot of fun," Belinda told him. "There's nothin' quite like thet fast `whish' as you come down the hill. 'Course our hill isn't very big, but . . . it . . . it's fun!"

"Shall we try it?" asked Jackson enthusiastically.

Belinda looked down at her skirts. She knew that tumbling in

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a snowbank was often a part of sledding.

"I'm hardly dressed for it," she laughed, but Jackson persisted. "We'd be careful. I'd sit in the front. All you'd need to do would be to hang on."

"I'll go," Melissa offered.

Both Jackson and Belinda turned to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with challenge.

"I'll go with you. I'm not afraid," she insisted again.

Without comment Jackson turned his attention back to Belinda. His eyes seemed to ask her if she had changed her mind.

"That's a great idea," Belinda was quick to agree. "Take Melissa. This is her first winter here. She's never slid down the hill before, either." Belinda did not add that she thought Melissa was foolish to be even considering it now in her Sunday skirt.

Dan shared his sleigh and Jackson settled in the front, holding fast on to the rope that worked the steering bar. Melissa climbed on behind him and without hesitation wrapped her arms around him to hang on for dear life. Belinda, watching, wondered if she hung on a bit tighter than was really needed, but of course she made no comment. The sled did go "whish." Jackson, laughing and shouting, sounded like he was thrilled with the ride. He asked for another. They went down again, Melissa hanging on just as firmly. Jackson "whooped" as the sled sped down the short hill.

He called up to Belinda, "It's great! How about trying it with me? See, we didn't fall off. It's a snap!"

Belinda just laughed and shook her head.

"One more, just one more. Please?" Melissa begged the boys with pleading enthusiasm.

The next ride was not the "snap" Jackson had described. Midway down the hill the sled seemed to develop a mind of its own. It veered off the well-traveled path and hit a bank of snow From there, matters only got worse. The sled bounced farther afield and struck a rock. Before Jackson could correct its course,

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the sleigh plunged into a snowdrift and skidded to a stop on its side, spilling its two passengers in a cloud of snowy dust.

The young boys at the top of the hill howled with glee, no doubt thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. Belinda stared openmouthed, fearful that one of the two might be hurt in the spill, but when they both climbed, a trifle unsteadily, to their feet, she relaxed. Melissa did look a bit the worse for wear. Her skirt, hanging crazily because of a huge tear at the waist, was covered with snow and her coat, also snow-covered, was hanging open as though it was missing all its buttons. Jackson brushed the snow from his coat, grinning sheepishly.

"Whoops!" he called up the hill to Belinda. "Guess it's not without some risks after all."

Belinda laughed, glad that no one had been hurt.

Jackson helped Melissa brush the snow off her coat, and asked her if she was all right. She assured him rather stiffly that she was fine, probably embarrassed at the state of her clothes. He righted the sled and started up the bank.

"Now will you ride with me?" he called laughingly to Belinda as he slowly made his way back up the hill, dragging the wayward sled with him.

"No, sir. I still will not," answered Belinda cheerfully.

Melissa, after rummaging around in the snow to locate her missing buttons, left quickly for the house to change her clothes and get herself back in order.

Jackson handed the sled back to Dan and thanked him warmly for the ride. "I'd like to try it again sometime," he informed the boy and Dan grinned, happy to have made an impression on an older fellow.

Belinda's eyes followed Melissa. "I'd better git in," she said to Jackson. "Mama might need me. She'll want to serve coffee soon."