Forevermore (12 page)

“I’ll answer the door.” Hope dried her hands off on the hem of her apron. Never once had Annie mentioned her husband, yet she wasn’t wearing mourning attire. If her husband had passed on more than a year ago, she wouldn’t be with child. Nothing added up. Most of all, Annie seemed uncertain, jumpy . . . fearful.

Hope opened the door and spied Phineas jogging over to the buckboard. He called to her, “It’s the ladies from Forsaken!”

Hope turned back. “Didja hear that, Annie? It’s Velma and that English lady. I don’t recollect her name.”

“Sydney.” Relief colored Annie’s voice. “Sydney Creighton.”

Emmy-Lou let out a squeal. “She’s the one who saved me from the dark wellhole!”

The two women came in, and the older one planted her hands on her ample hips. “We ran into Jakob in town. Had we known they’d be starting the harvest tomorrow, we would have been here yesterday!”

“Hope is doing so much already, but it is nice to see you.”

“Hmpf. You need to be an octopus to get everything done.” Velma shook her finger at Annie. “And I ordered you to rest more. Well, while I’m here, let’s go on upstairs and have a look at you.”

Sydney Creighton walked through the kitchen and took an apron off a peg. “I’ll help with the pies while you’re doing that.”

“I’m baking, too!” Emmy-Lou proudly showed the scraps of pie crust that she’d rolled out and dusted with cinnamon sugar.

“Ohhh,” Sydney said. “Do you think maybe I could cut that into strips and we could bake them so we ladies could have tea together?”

“Can we? Please?”

“I think so, don’t you, Hope?” Annie looked to her.

“ ’Tis a dandy notion. I reckon Miss Velma should go on up and check you out, Annie. Miss Velma, I’d take it kindly if ’n y’all would come back down and tell me what Annie needs. We wanna make shore to do all we can to help her out. Gotta tell you, it does my heart good, knowin’ you’re round to call upon when our Annie’s time of need arrives.”

Velma and Annie went upstairs. Velma called over her shoulder, “We’re not going to have tea and leave. We’re staying through lunch and most of the afternoon.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Creighton straightened her apron. “The first thing I ever learned to bake was pie.”

Velma’s snickers reverberated in the stairwell.

Sydney’s eyes twinkled. “To everyone’s relief, I’ve gotten much better at it. What kind are we making today?”

Hours later, when they stood on the porch and waved goodbye, Hope wrapped her arm around Annie’s shoulders and squeezed. “Wasn’t it just like God to send them ladies here?

Velma knew just what all the other ladies’ll be bringin’, so that saved us a bunch of time.”

Annie scanned the kitchen and nodded.

I’ve got ’til Saturday to get her through the harvest. Sunday at church, could be someone else’ll wanna hire me to help at their place. Leavin’ here’ll be hard, though.

“I worry. There’s so much to be done, and I’ll probably forget something important.”

Hope crossed her eyes and huffed. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll take care of things, and when I forget something, you’ll remind me. We work together right good—like a hand in love.”

Concern painted Annie’s face. “Do you truly think we’re ready for tomorrow?”

“Yep. This is gonna be a fine harvest dinner the farm’ll lay out. We got more done today than a whole army of ants.”

“We would have gotten more done if I hadn’t taken a nap.”

Hope giggled. “We woulda gotten less done, on account of me and Velma woulda taken turns sittin’ on you to make you stay put.”

Emmy-Lou gasped. “Would you really sit on her?”

“If ’n I did, it would be her fault.” Hope felt Annie go stiff. Immediately regretting her comment, she tacked on, “But your auntie is a very good woman. We won’t ever have to worry ’bout that. Annie, you shore got some fine neighbors, don’tcha?”

Annie stammered, “I’m glad you thought to offer them some peaches.”

“That made Velma happy ’nuff, but Sydney’s tickled pink you gave her that peach pie. She claims her man’s got a fearsome sweet tooth.”

“I should get back to work.” Annie scanned the kitchen. “What do you want me to do?”

Hope played with Emmy-Lou’s curls. “ ’Member how you helped sweep the floor the other day? After all our work today, that floor shore could use it. How ’bout you bein’ a big girl and seein’ to that?”

“Okay!” Emmy-Lou dashed inside.

When Annie turned to follow, Hope stopped her. “I know Velma says you’re doin’ fine, but that don’t mean you gotta work ’til you pop.” She glanced meaningfully at Annie’s tummy. “And since ’tis just you an’ me out here, I’ll tell you, it looks like you’ll pop right soon.”

Annie’s features tightened. “No. Not for a while. I can still work. Really. What do you want me to do? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

Hope tried to think of something minor. Simple. Easy. “We’ve been real busy with all the cookin’. Seein’ as we’ll have neighbor women droppin’ in to help at noon tomorrow, maybe someone will play the piano. Rubbin’ them ivory keys with a cloth you dampen with milk sure makes them shine. Little things like that are good finishin’ touches, don’tcha think?”

Annie nodded. “I’ll do it. Right away.” Only she wouldn’t meet Hope’s gaze.

Some folks were timid. Shy and unsure of themselves. It was the temperament God gave them. It could be that Annie Erickson fell into that category. Hope tried to tell herself Annie was just hot and tired. Then, too, most women grew anxious about feeding all the harvesters. They wanted to put on an ample, tasty spread to thank the men and entice them back again the next season.

None of those facts explained everything, though.
Annie apologizes for every little thing. When Emmy-Lou spilled her milk, and when the picture frame fell and broke, Annie got jumpy and looked ready to burst into tears. Women who are with child tend to be emotional but
. . . Hope shook her head.

Annie rasped, “What’s wrong?”

Hope grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Do y’all mind if ’n I go out to check on Hattie and make shore she’s workin’ real good for your brother? I shoulda asked him at lunch, but it slipped my mind.”

“Go ahead.”

Hope walked down the porch steps and out to a nearby field. All about her, wheat rippled in a golden sea. She gawked about, reassured herself that Phineas wasn’t in earshot, and tromped over to her boss. Shouldering her way past dense stalks that released their unique scent of sunshine, earth, and ready-to-bake bread, Hope found no comfort in the surroundings that usually filled her with contentment. “Mr. Stauffer, I’m fixin’ to say something.”

He stopped working and turned to face her while mopping his forehead and neck with a rumpled red bandana.

“You’re a-waving that red bandana like a cape, so I’m chargin’ ahead.”

He dipped his head in assent.

“Time was, I had me a friend. We was both in pigtails. Well, her pa brung her a puppy dog one day. Rescued it from a feller what was sore mean to it. Well, that pup never was quite right. Took him nigh unto a year before he didn’t slink wherever he went. Sorta ducked when someone took a mind to pet him.” She watched Mr. Stauffer’s tanned features. He said nothing.

“Now, your sister is a right nice lady, and I’d never say a word against her. But I’ve been round enough to know some men are wicked bad clear down to the feet of their souls. Them men—they use their words or their might to beat down the ones they’re supposed to love.”

Tell me I’m wrong,
Hope pleaded silently.
Tell me Annie’s just timid and ascairt of havin’ her babe.

Only the soft brush of wheat stalks in the wind sounded.

“Annie ain’t said nothin’, but I got a sad feelin’ deep inside me that she’s been hurt.”

Hope longed for a denial and reassurances to spring from his lips. Only that didn’t happen. Mr. Stauffer’s hold on his bandana tightened. Then, he stared off over her shoulder. Always before, he met her eyes squarely. His jaw hardened, and a small muscle twitched there. The anguish in his eyes and a convulsive swallow confirmed Hope’s worst fears.

She held up her hand and swished it back and forth—just like the schoolmarm used to, to erase the chalkboard. “You ain’t gotta figure out what to say. I don’t want you to break a pledge. Your silence done said more’n any words ever could. If ’n my suspicions was nothin’ more than a tale spun by a fanciful mind, you woulda rushed to say so.”

Hope felt sick to the depths of her heart. She steeled herself with a deep, shaky breath. “I’ll pray real hard for Annie. If ’n y’all know of something—anything—I can do to help her, you just tell me.”

He drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out. Finally, he met her gaze. His blue eyes held an intensity she’d not yet seen. Hope repeated, “All you gotta do is tell me how I can help her out. I ain’t known her long, but I count your sis as my friend.”

“I want you to stay after the harvest—not just ’til the threshing is done, but until Annie has her baby and another two weeks afterward so she’s on her feet again.”

The words came from the farmer’s mouth, but they rang true in her soul, filling her with the sense she had when she knew the Lord’s will for her. The concerns she held about how Annie would struggle with chores dissipated.

“I know what I ask isn’t what we agreed upon, but it’s what my sister needs.”

“It’s not what I usually do.” Hope wrinkled her nose. “But it’s sorta what we decided. You told me Annie’s the woman in your home and I’m to help her. So I reckon we could say that’s part of the bargain. Between now and when I go, I’ll be able to set up your household so’s Annie won’t have to do too much for a good long time.”

He stared at her intently. “You would do this?”

“I told you I go where God sends me and where men need me. Well, in this case, it’s where the woman needs me. I’ll stay on ’til Annie’s had her babe and is back on her feet.”

“Gut. Sehr gut.”

Good? It was dreadful, that Annie hadn’t been cherished by her man. But God gave her a strong, good-hearted brother who’d taken care of her. “Mr. Stauffer? About your sister—I won’t never say nothing to nobody. You got my word on it.” Hope looked at the blue bandana he fished out of his back pocket and extended toward her. It wasn’t until then she realized she’d been crying.

“There is something more you should know.”

Hope clutched the bandana and couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Jakob cleared his throat. “Konrad—my sister’s husband—he didn’t know she was with child when I brought her away from him.”

Dozens of hard-boiled eggs filled the bowls, and large pots of strong coffee fragranced the predawn air. Rashers of crisp bacon and pans of coffee cake were all ready. Jakob gulped down the last of his second mug, hoping it would help wake him up. Sleep had eluded him most of the night.

Until now, he’d kept busy with the farm and in easing Annie’s fright. Living day-to-day took all he had. With Hope there, helping, he’d started to feel life might somehow regain balance and order. Now, though, the future loomed ominously. How long could he keep Konrad ignorant of the baby? What would Konrad do? Jakob barely balanced the finances with what he now paid to keep Konrad away.

“God shore is generous. Lookit the bountiful field out there, with ever’ single stalk of wheat standin’ tall and proud on its last mornin’. The sight’s so beautiful, it makes me wanna lift my hands toward heaven and holler out a million hallelujahs.” Up on tiptoe, Hope peered out the window and started singing, “Oh, for a Thousand Tongues to Sing.”

Over by the table, Annie softly joined in.

Lord, keeping my eyes on you—that’s what I should be doing instead of worrying.

“My gracious Master and my God,” the duet filled the kitchen. “Assist me to proclaim . . .”

The phrase hit him hard. Asking God to assist him . . . yes, that is what he needed to do. Over and over, that needed to be his prayer.

“Jesus, the name that charms our fears,” Annie’s voice wavered and cracked.

Jakob immediately joined in, “and bids our sorrows cease; ’Tis music in the sinner’s ears, ’Tis life, and health, and peace.”

Hope turned around. “Thankee for singing that with me. My heart was full and the onliest thing better than singing to the Lord was having the both of you raise up your hearts and voices, too. No better way to start a day than giving Him our praise and trustin’ Him with whatever’s on our hearts and minds.”

“Hope has a good voice, doesn’t she, Annie?”

“Yes.”

“Thankee. I think God gave that to me on account of Him knowin’ I wouldn’t be one to draw close to Him in readin’ His Word. Well, I’d best start totin’ stuff out to the tables. Ain’t gonna be long now before the crowd depends.”

Descends. The crowd descends
. Jakob couldn’t correct her. He didn’t have it in him to spoil the morning by nitpicking.
Besides, the crowd will depend—on all the food she’s serving
.

“You’ve done well.” Jakob opened the door to allow Hope to carry out the coffee. She’d already taken out the dishes, silverware, and mugs. Most of the men would arrive in the next hour, but a few had begun to wander or ride up the road.

“Looks like you got some laborers comin’ to offer themselves to hire for the day.”

“Ja. Every year, there are a few. Five, I will take. The rest, I will ask you to feed before I send them away.”

Hope was halfway down the steps. She turned back. “If ’n you didn’t hire me, how many men would you take on?”

“Five. I have good, strong neighbors. Five additional men— that is how many are needed. Last year, there was a man with his son—a small son, far too young to sit on the lead horse pulling the reaper. I should have asked you before, but I forgot about the boy until now. If he comes again, do you mind watching him so the father can work?”

“I’d mind if you turned him away.” Hope hastened away, her lively step taking her to whatever chore she had in mind.

Annie came close. She murmured, “Do you think maybe years ago, a farmer’s wife watched Hope so her father could work?”

The question brought him up short. He’d been so busy with his own thoughts and concerns that he’d never found out anything about this strange woman under his roof!