Love's abiding joy (Love Comes Softly #4) (2 page)

17

for breakfast. Ellie tried to pat her hair back in its proper place and then dished up the scrambled eggs. Arnie, content to wait his turn at the washbasin, finally crossed to Marty. "Happy birthday, Ma," he said, laying his hand on her shoulder.

"Thank ya, son. It sure has had it a promisin' start."

"An' soon we'll all be headin' for Clae's. Boy, those kids of Nandry's git noisier ever'time thet we see 'em. 'Uncle Arnie, give me a ride.' 'Uncle Arnie, lift me up.' 'Uncle Arnie, help me.' 'Uncle Arnie--'

"An' you love every minute of it," cut in Ellie.

Arnie did not argue, only grinned. Marty agreed with Ellie: Arnie did love the kids.

Clark came in then, drying his hands on a towel, and glanced around the kitchen.

"Well, it 'pears thet my family has 'bout gathered in. Everyone waitin' on me?"

"Yeah, thought you'd never git here, Pa," said Clare, taking the rough farm towel and winding it up to snap at Arnie.

"The boys jest now came in," Ellie informed her pa, "so I guess you haven't kept anyone waitin' any."

The men, finished with their washing and fooling around, took their places at the table. Marty moved her chair into position and Ellie brought the platter of hot bacon from the stove. Marty looked at the empty place. "Luke," she said. "Luke isn't here yet."

"Still sleepin'?" asked Clare, knowing that Luke did enjoy a good sleep-in on occasion.

"He'll be here in a minute," said Ellie. "I think thet he'd like fer us to jest go ahead."

"But--" Marty protested, and just then the screen door banged and in came Luke, his hair disheveled by the wind and his face flushed from hurrying. Marty's heart gave a skip at the sight of her "baby." Luke was her gentle one, her peacemaker and dream-builder. Luke, fifteen, was smaller than the other boys and had serious and caring soft brown eyes. Marty felt that she had never seen another person whose eyes looked

18

as warm and compassionate as her little Luke's.

"Sorry," he said under his breath and slid into his place at the table.

Clark just nodded, but his love for his boy showed in his simple nod. "Would you like to wash?"

"I can wait until we pray; then the food won't be gittin' cold."

"Reckon the food will wait well enough. Go ahead."

Luke hurried from the table, inspecting his hands as he went. They were covered with red stains. He was soon back, and the family sat quietly as Clark read the morning scripture portion and then led in prayer.

His prayer of the morning included a special thanks for the mother of the home and his helpmate over the years. Clark reminded the Lord that Marty was truly worthy of His special blessing. Marty remembered an earlier prayer, so long ago when she was a hurting, bewildered and reluctant bride. Clark had asked the Father to bless her then too. God had. She had felt Him with her through the years, and these dear children about her table were evidence of His blessing.

After the prayer ended and the food was passed, Clare looked up at Luke between bites of bacon and eggs. "So, little brother. What ya been up to so early in the mornin'?"

Luke squirmed a bit. "Well, I jest wanted ma to have some strawberries fer her birthday breakfast, but boy--were they little and hard to find this year! Guess it ain't been warm enough yet." He held out a small cup of tiny strawberries.

Marty's throat constricted and her eyes filled again with tears. Her sleepyhead had crawled out early to get her some birthday strawberries. She remembered back to when Missie had first started the tradition of "strawberries for Ma's birthday breakfast." After Missie had left, the children had pooled their efforts for a few years; and then, with the breaking of the pastureland that had housed the best strawberry patch, the tradition had drifted away. And now little Luke had tried valiantly to revive it again.

Clare reached over and roughed his younger brother's hair. His eyes said, "You're all right, ya know that, kid," but his

19

mouth was too busy with Ellie's breakfast muffins.

"Ya should have told me," Arnie whispered. "I'd a helped ya."

Marty looked around the kitchen at the four children still sharing their table, and her heart filled with joy and overflowed with love reflected in the glisten of tears in her eyes.

20

Chapter Two

Birthday
Dinner

"Thet was a lovely dinner, Clae," Marty remarked, delicately catching the last traces of birthday cake crumbs from her lips with the tip of her tongue. Clare's groan as he held his full stomach was eloquent. Josh laughed.

As the plates were pushed back and second cups of coffee were poured, the pleasant clamor of visiting began. It seemed that everyone had something to say all at once, including the children. Clark held up his hands for silence and finally drew the attention of the group.

"Hold it," he chuckled, "ain't nobody gonna hear nobody in all this racket. How 'bout a little organization here?"

Nandry's oldest, Tina, giggled. "Oh, Grandpa, how can one org'nize chatter?"

"Can I go now? Can I go play with Uncle Arnie?" Andrew interrupted, the only boy in the family of Nandry and Josh.

"Just before we all leave the table and scatter who-knowswhere, how about if we let Grandma open up her birthday gifts?" asked Clae.

21

"Oh, yes! Let's. Let's!" shouted the children, clapping their hands. Presents were always fun, even if they were for someone else.

Grandma Marty was given a chair of honor and the gifts began to arrive, carried in and presented by various hands. The children shared scraps of art work and pictures. Tina had even hemmed, by hand stitch, a new handkerchief. Nandry and Clae, presenting gifts from their families, laughed when they realized that they had both sewn Marty new aprons. Clare and Arnie had gone together and purchased a new teapot, declaring that now she could "git rid of thet ol' one with the broken spout." Ellie's gift to her mother was a delicate cameo brooch, and Marty suspected that Clark had contributed largely to its purchase. Luke was last. His eyes showed both eagerness and embarrassment as he came slowly forward. It was clear that he was just a bit uncertain as to how the others would view his gift.

"It didn't cost nothin'," he murmured.

"Thet isn't what gives a gift its value," Marty replied, both curious and concerned.

"I know thet you always said thet, but some folk--wellthey think thet ya shouldn't give what cost ya nothin'."

"Ah," said Clark, seeming to realize what was bothering the boy, "but the cost is not always figured in dollars and cents. To give of yerself sometimes be far more costly than reachin' into one's pocket fer cash."

Luke smiled and seemed to feel more at ease as he pushed his clumsy package toward Marty.

"Ya said thet ya liked 'em, so--"

He shrugged and backed away so that his mother could open her gift.

Heavy and bulky, it was wrapped in brown paper and tied at the top with store twine. Marty could not imagine what kind of a gift could come in such a package. She untied the twine with trembling fingers and let the brown paper fall stiffly to the floor. Before her eyes were two small shrubs, complete with roots and part of the countryside in which they had grown. Marty recognized them at once as small bushes from

22

the hill country. She had exclaimed over them when she had seen them in full bloom one summer when she and Clark had taken the youngsters into the hills for a family outing. How beautiful they had looked in their dress of scarlet blossoms. She caught her breath in a little gasp as she visualized the beautiful shrubs blooming in her own garden.

"Do you think thet they'll grow okay, Pa?" Luke's anxiety showed in his voice. "I tried to be as careful as I could in diggin' 'em up. Tried to be sure to keep from hurtin' the roots an'--"

"We'll give 'em the best possible care an' try to match their home growin' conditions as much as possible," Clark assured Luke; then he continued almost under his breath, "--iffen I have to haul their native soil from them hills by the wagonload."

Marty couldn't stop the tears this time. It was so much like Luke. He had traveled many miles and had gone to a great deal of work and care in order to present to her the shrubs that he knew she loved. And yet he had stood in embarrassment before his family, his eyes begging them to please try to understand his gift and the reason for his giving it. She pulled him gently to her and hugged him close. Luke wasn't too fond of motherly kisses in public places, so Marty refrained from embarrassing him further.

"Thank you, son. I can hardly wait fer them to bloom."

Luke grinned and moved back into the family circle.

All eyes then turned to Clark. It had become traditional that the final gift to be given at family gatherings was always from the head of the home. Clark cleared his throat now and stood to his feet.

"Well, my gift ain't as pretty as some thet sit here. It'll never bloom in years to come either. But it does come with love, an' I hope it be somethin' thet truly gives ya pleasure. No fancy package--jest this here little envelope."

He handed the plain brown envelope to Marty. Marty turned it over in her hand, looking for some writing that would indicate what she was holding. There was nothing.

"Open it, Gran'ma," came a small voice, echoed by many others.

"

23

Marty carefully tore off one corner, slit the envelope open, and let the contents fall into her lap--two pieces of paper and on them words in Clark's handwriting. Marty picked up the first. Aloud she read the message, "This is for the new things that you be needing. Just let me know when and where you want to do the shopping."

"Ya should have read the other one first," interjected Clark.

Marty picked up the second slip of paper. It read, "Arrangements have been made for tickets on the train to Missie. We leave--"

Tickets to go to Missie! All of Marty's thoughts and longings centered on their daughter so many miles away. The recent "if onlys" crowded in around her. She was going to see Missie again. "Oh, Clark!" was all she could manage, and then she was in his arms sobbing for the wonder of it--the pure joy of the promise the tickets held.

When she finally could control herself, she stepped back from Clark's embrace. With a happy smile but trembling lips, Marty said apologetically to her family, "I think thet I need me a little walkin' time, an' then we're gonna sit us down an' talk all 'bout this--" She did well to get that far without more tears, and she left the cozy kitchen filled with the family she loved and walked out into the June sunshine.

Here at Clae's there was no place in particular to go, so she wandered aimlessly. She found herself yearning for the familiar trees and little spring behind her own house. She had gone there so many times over the years when she had some thinking to do. Well, Clae's trees would suffice. Marty certainly did have some thinking to do. She tried to collect her scattered, excited thoughts. She was going to Missie! She and Clark would travel those many miles on the train. No wagons--no slow days of wind and rain. Only padded seats and chugging engines eating up the distance between her little girl and herself. Oh, she could hardly wait! She held up the note that she still held in her hand and read it again. "Arrangements have been made for tickets on the train to Missie. We leave as soon as you can be ready to go. Love, Clark."

As soon as you can be ready to go. Oh, my.
There was so

24

much to be done. So many things to prepare and take with them. There was her wardrobe. She would need new things for traveling. Why, her blue hat would never do to wear out among stylish people, and her best dress had a small snag near the hem that still showed even though she had mended it carefully.
Oh, my.
How would she ever--? And then Marty remembered the second note. "This is for the new things that you be needing. Just let me know when and where you want to do the shopping." "Oh, my," Marty said aloud. Clark had thought of everything, it appeared. "Oh, my," she repeated and quickly changed directions back to Clae's kitchen. She must talk to the girls. They were far more aware of the present fashion trends, and they knew what stores carried the needed articles, and they knew where she would need to go to do her shopping and when the stages ran between the towns. "Oh, my," she said again in a flurry, "I do have me so much to do. Oh, my."

25

Chapter Three

Planning

The days that followed were busy ones for Marty. Nandry and Clae went shopping with her for yard goods in their small town and then pored over design sketches that Clae made in an effort to achieve fashionable gowns. It was finally concluded that a trip to a larger center would be necessary if Marty were to be presentable to the outside world on a cross-country train trip. But when could she work that into this busy time? Though her wardrobe consumed much of Marty's time and attention, there were other matters that weighed heavily on her mind as well. One of them was the fact that Clare had wedding plans. As yet, the definite date for the marriage had not been set, but how could they go way off west not knowing? Marty held her tongue, but she did try to "plant the seed" in Clare's thinking that it would be most helpful if his young lady could finalize a date. Clare understood the subtle suggestion and told Marty he would see what he could do.

Marty was also anxious about her packing. Every day she thought of something new that surely Missie and Willie and