Love comes softly (9 page)

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Chapter 10

Neighborly Hog Killin'

A new week began. Marty mentally braced herself for it, hoping with all of her heart that it would be packed full of activity.

Monday morning, true to the promise made the night before, Clark brought in the big rooster beheaded and plucked. He advised Marty to boil rather than try to fry the patriarch of the flock and Marty was glad to take his advice. After caring for the bird and putting him on to cook in her largest pot, Marty set to work washing up all of the clothing that she could find that needed washing. Her back ached from the scrub board, and she was glad to spend the rest of the day at her sewing.

The rest of the week was packed full, too. She went with Clark to Ben Grahams for the killing of the hogs. Todd Stern and his near-grown son, Jason, were there, too, and Marty recognized them as the kind neighbors who had brought Clem home and supplied his burying place. The pain was there, sharp and hurting again, but she made a real effort to push it from her. She was glad to be with Ma Graham. She seemed to draw so much strength from the older woman.

As the day went on, Marty could not help but notice the looks that were exchanged between young Jason and Ma's Sally Anne. If she didn't miss her guess, something was a brewin' there.

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She had little time to ponder on it, however, for the cutting and preparing of the meat was a big job. After the menfolk had done the killing and the scraping, and had quartered the animals, the women were hard pressed to keep up with them.

The job that Marty found hardest to stomach was the emptying and preparing of the casings for the sausage meat. Floods of nausea swept over her, and several times she had to fight for control. When they were finally done, Marty went to the outhouse and lost all of her dinner. She was glad to be rid of it and went back to work feeling some better.

The men looked after preparing the salt brine for the curing of the bacon and hams and readied the smoke house for the process. The women ground and seasoned the sausage meat and had the slow, rather boring, task of stuffing the casings and tying them into proper lengths. It helped to be able to chat as they worked; still the job seemed a tedious one. On the second and third days, Hildi Stern came with her menfolk, and the extra hands aided much in getting the job done.

Lard had to be chopped up and rendered, some kept for cooking and frying and some put aside to be used in the making of soap.

At the end of each day those involved were tired and aching. Marty noticed that Ma tried to assign her the less demanding tasks, but she would have none of it, wanting to do her full share.

At the end of the third day things were cleaned up and put away for the next year's killing. The dividing up that could be done was taken care of and the rest marked for later use.

Ma's Sally Anne put on the coffee for them all to renew their strength for the work that waited at home at day's end. Marty noticed Jason look in Sally's direction and saw her face flush beneath it. She couldn't fault Jason. Sally Anne was a very pretty seventeen-year-old, and just as sweet as she was pretty, Marty thought. Was Jason good enough for her? Marty hoped so. She knew nothing of the boy to make her think otherwise. He looked strong and he certainly had been carrying his share of the work the last few days. He seemed mannerly enough. Yes, she summed it up-- maybe he'd be all right.

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Anyway, it looked like he'd have to be, the way they were mooning over one another.

She remembered again how it had been when she had first met Clem-- his eyes on her and her cheeks flushed in her excitement. She had known right away that she would love him and she guessed that he had known it too. His very presence had sent fireworks through her. She couldn't wait to see him again, but she could hardly bear it when she did. She had thought she'd explode with the intensity of it, but that's what love was like. Wild and possessing, making one nearly burst with excitement and desire-- being both sweet and cruel at the same time. That's how love was.

Clark was excusing himself from the table and Marty got up too. She said the necessary words to Ma Graham and eyed the crocks of lard that she was to take home for soap-making, when Ma Graham spoke.

"No use us both gittin' ourselves in a mess makin' soap. Marty, why don't ya leave them crocks here an' come over in the mornin' an' we'll do it all up together-like?"

Bless ya, Ma Graham, Marty's heart cried. Ya know very well I'd be downright lost on my own tryin' to make soap fer the first time.

She looked at Clark for his reaction.

"Good idee," Clark responded.

"Thank ya, Ma," Marty said with feeling. "I'll be over in the mornin' jest as soon as I can."

Thank you seemed very inadequate, but what else could she say?

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Chapter 11

Togetherness

Marty kept her word and hurried through the morning household chores so that she could do her rightful share of the work at Ma's. As she went for Missie's coat and bonnet, Clark spoke up.

"I've nothin' pressin' to take my time today. Thought I'd be a doin' the caulkin' here in the kitchen. Why don'cha jest leave Missie to home with me an' then ya won't need to worry ya none 'bout her gittin' under foot around those hot pots."

Marty expressed her appreciation and agreement and hurried to the team and wagon that Clark had waiting.

It was cooler today. In fact, there was almost a chill to the air. Maybe winter would soon be coming. Marty hated the thought of those long days and even longer evenings that stretched out before her.

The soap-making went well, even though it was a demanding hot job and Marty was glad when they finished. It was then placed in pans ready to be cut into bars after it had cooled.

They sat down for a much needed cup of coffee and one of Ma's slices of johnny-cake. There was never much chance for confidential talking at Ma's house. What with a family of eleven crowding every corner of the small house, there was seldom an opportunity to be alone. But Ma talked freely, ignoring the coming and going.

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She told Marty that her first husband, Thornton Perkins, had been the owner of a small store in town and when he had come to an early death, he had left her with the business to try to wrest a living from and three small children to care for. When Ben Graham came along with good farm land and the need for a woman, he appeared to be the answer to prayer even though he had four small ones tagging along behind him. So they had joined forces, the young widow with three and the widower with four. To that union had been born six more children. One they had lost as a baby and one at the age of seven. The seven-year-old had been one of Ma's, and Ben had felt the loss deeply. Now the children numbered eleven and every one of them was special.

Sally Anne and Laura were both seventeen, only two months apart, with Ben's Laura being the older of the two. Next came Ben's Thomas, then Ma's Nellie. Ma's Ben had been next and Ma supposed that one of the reasons Ben had become so attached to this boy was that they both bore the same name. Ben's twins were next in line, Lem and Claude. They were named after their two grandfathers. The younger children Marty still didn't have sorted out by name. There was a Faith and a Clint she knew and she believed that she had heard the little one called Lou.

It was the two older girls that most interested Marty. Sally Anne was one of the prettiest young things that she had ever seen and seemed to simply adore her step-sister Laura. Laura, though capable and efficient, was plain and probably knew it, for she seemed to always be indirectly trying to outdo Sally Anne. "Why does she do it?" Marty puzzled. "Can't she see that Sally Anne practically worships her? She has no earthly reason to lord it over her." In watching more closely she decided that Laura was unaware of what she was doing, but was driven by a deep feeling of being inferior to her pretty sister.

"She doesn't need to feel thet way," Marty reasoned. "She has so much to offer jest the way she be."

She supposed that there was nothing that she could do about it. However, she promised herself that she'd try to be especially nice to Laura and maybe make her realize that she was a worthwhile person.

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It was getting to be late afternoon and Marty knew that she must be on her way.

She thanked Ma sincerely for all of her help with the soap. Now she felt confident that she'd be able to do it on her own the next time. She told Ma that if she could spare the time, she'd sure appreciate another visit from her before the snow shut them in. Ma promised to try, and giving Marty a hearty hug, sent her on her way.

When Marty reached home Clark met her to take the team, taking Missie with him for the brief trip to the barn. As she entered the kitchen she saw that all of the old crumbled chinking had been replaced with the new, and was rapidly turning to the proper attractive white. Now she wouldn't be sweeping up broken pieces each time that she swept the kitchen. She was glad that it was done, and noted with appreciation that Clark had even cleaned up any mess that he had made in the doing of the job.

Marty was tired as she began the supper preparations and would be very glad to go to bed. Tomorrow was Saturday, so she must first make a list for Clark as he would want to leave early for town the next morning.

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Chapter 12

Finishin' My Sewin'

Clark did leave early for town the next day, and Marty sighed with relief as she watched him go. She still felt him a stranger to be avoided; though, without realizing it, some of her anger was seeping away simply because, deep down, she realized that it was unfounded. They were victims of circumstances, both of them, forced to share the same house. Notwithstanding, Marty was much relieved when his duties took him elsewhere.

The list hadn't been as long this time, but Clark had asked her to check through Missie's things to see what the child would be needing for the winter. Marty did this and carefully added the items to the list. Then Clark stood Missie on a chair and traced a pattern of her small foot so that he might bring her back new shoes.

Marty busied herself with her morning routine. She still felt tired. In fact she wondered if the emotionally-driven hard work of the preceding days was not taking its toll. She felt drained and even slightly dizzy as she finished up the dishes. For the sake of her little one, she must hold herself in check and not pour all of her energy into frenzied activity. She had lost her Clem. Now, more than ever, she wanted his baby.

Marty decided that she would make this day an easier one. She did her household chores for the day, sweeping and tidying each small room. Her bedroom had become quite crowded

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with the two beds, two chests, her trunk, the sewing basket and the new machine. She wouldn't complain, she thought, as she looked at the beautiful shining thing. There really was more room for it in the sitting room, but she was sure that for Clark to have to see it continually would be a hurtful reminder. No, she'd be glad to spare him that much, and she ran a loving hand over the polished wood.

"Today, Missie," she spoke to the child, "I'm a gonna finish my sewin'."

She crossed to the garments that she had already made and fingered them with pride. There hung the newly made bonnets, one of light material, a little more fussy, the other of warm sturdy cloth for the cold days ahead. There were the underclothes, some with bits of lace. She had never had such feminine things before. She almost hated to wear them and thus take away their newness. Two nighties lay folded in the drawer. She had put extra tucks and stitching on them and one had some dainty blue trim. Two dresses hung completed. They were not fancy, but they were neat and attractive, and Marty felt confident that Clark would have to deem them 'proper.'

Beside her chest stood the new shoes, still black and shiny. She had not as yet worn them. As long as she could she would wear her old ones and keep the new ones to admire. Her new coat and shawl hung on pegs behind the door, so very new, so new and beautiful.

Marty sighed. She had only the blue-gray material to make up. She had saved it until last because it was to be special. She let the beautiful material lie against her hand, then lifted one corner to her cheek.

"Missie," she half whispered, "I'm gonna make me a dress. Ya jest wait to see it. It gonna be so grand, an' maybe-- maybe when I be all through, there be enough material left to make ya somethin' too."

Suddenly that was important to Marty. She wanted, with all of her heart, to share this bit of happiness with someone, and Missie seemed the likely one to share it with.

Missie patted the material and proclaimed it pretty.

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Marty went to work. Missie played well on the rug by the bed, and the sewing machine hummed along. The morning went speedily, and when Missie became restless Marty was shocked to find that the clock said ten past one.

"Oh dear!" Marty exclaimed, picking up the child. "Missie, I'm plumb sorry. It be long past yer dinner time. Ya must be starvin'. I'll git ya somethin' right away."

They ate together and then Marty tucked Missie in for her nap. The child fell asleep listening to the dreamy whirr of the new machine.

The new dress took shape, and when she had carefully finished each tuck and seam, Marty held it up. It nearly took her breath away. She was sure that she had never had one quite so pretty. She couldn't resist trying it on and frankly admired herself. She removed it reluctantly and carefully hung it with her other dresses, arranging each fold to hang just right.

Eagerly she set to work on the small garment for Missie. She decided to make a small shirt from the white material that was left over from her underthings, with a jumper from the blue-gray wool.

The shirt was soon completed and with great care Marty set to work on the tiny jumper. The tucks were fussed over to make sure that they were just so, and each seam was sewn with utmost care. When Marty was finished she made small stitching across the yoke with needle and thread.

Missie, who had long since awakened from her nap, kept demanding to see the "pretty," and Marty's work would be interrupted while she showed her.

Suddenly Marty jumped from her chair as she heard Ole Bob welcoming Clark home.

"Dad-burn," she said, hastily laying her sewing aside and hurrying to the kitchen. "I haven't even thought me about supper."

The stove was cold to her touch. She had forgotten all day to nourish it.

Clark had driven down by the barn. The supplies would not take as many trips to carry this time, nor would they be as heavy to tote.