Serendipity (31 page)

“You moved the furniture back inside!” Maggie’s delight made Todd glad he’d gotten up early. Then she went up on tiptoe, gave him a quick hug, and whispered, “Next Monday’s my turn.”

“Next Monday?”

She beamed as she nodded. “I’ll have to come up with something mighty special to match such a fine token.”

“What are you jabbering about?” Ma voiced his question – and he was glad of it. His wife wasn’t making a speck of sense.

Brow wrinkling, Maggie asked, “Germans don’t do love tokens? On Mondays?”

“Never heard of it. Not with the Dutch or Spanish or English, either.” Todd watched her expression go from amazed to saddened to resolute.

“Then it’s Carver’s Holler tradition, and we’ll keep it. Our duty is to keep the heritage, so I’ll explain. Sunday is God’s day. Monday is for the man and wife. They take turns every other week, giving the other a little surprise. Todd beat me to giving the first token of love. Look how he got the house all ready for us so bright and early, and his instincts led him to do it. He kept the tradition going right from the very beginning. Next Monday, it’s my turn.”

Ma looked around and announced, “We need curtains. Purple, I think.”

“A love token is a surprise. It can come at any time of the day on Monday, too. I’ll have curtains up before then. I set aside some special cloth the same color as Todd’s eyes.”

“That’ll do.” Ma studied the window. “This place needs some color.”

“Just like you said, Todd. I’ll handle the inside things whilst you see to the beasts. Ma, when it comes to horsemen, Todd’s got them all beat. I’ve never seen a man as talented as Todd. He charmed Eve straight away, and stubborn as Adam is, he still obeys Todd’s ‘whoa!’ There wasn’t a man in all Carver’s Holler who could do the same.”

All of Maggie’s cheerfulness and compliments made him suspicious. Ma and Arletta both resorted to flattery to get their own way. Todd figured Maggie had to be up to something. “Halting a horse is nothing.”

“Balderdash! It’s the most important order to train horses to obey. They can’t cause havoc if you stand ’em still.”

“Magpie’s right, Son.”

Tension seeped from his shoulders. Clearly, Ma seemed to have turned a corner. She’d been pleasant about Maggie’s choice of curtains and now agreed with her. Hopefully now life would go as smoothly as her wheelchair glided across the new floor.

After breakfast, he read Proverbs 8, then decided, “We’ll finish the vegetable field. Did you ask Hope Stauffer about planting?”

“Hope told the beautiful woman with a little baby girl that this week would be the best time.”

Ma enthused, “That was the prettiest baby.”

“Sydney,” Todd provided. “That was Big Tim Creighton’s wife, Sydney. The baby’s name is Rose. While we work, we’ll set aside space for the flower bed.”

“Oh! Thankee!”

“So much else wants doing. A rose bed is the last thing you need to waste time on.” Ma fumbled with her napkin. “Today is laundry day.”

“Monday?” Maggie’s voice held puzzlement. “Friday is laundry and Saturday is ironing so everything’s fresh and clean for the Lord’s Day.”

“No one does it that way.” Ma quoted, “Mondays, laundry, Tuesday, ironing . . .”

He left the women and went out to the barn. First Todd mucked, then lifted the enormous hames to fit around Eve’s neck. He’d rather wear the heavy thing himself than carry around the knowledge that all this hard work wouldn’t be enough.

The day did not go as expected, though. Nothing got done about Maggie’s roses, but it was her own fault. After church, she’d shamelessly confirmed that she bartered and brought things with her. They weren’t treasures, as she’d claimed. They were trade goods, and she’d barter or sell anything for the right price. He’d seen it happen several times today. She kept leaving the planting to escort curious folks into his barn and wrangle deals. Good thing he’d hauled all of their belongings back into the house this morning; otherwise, she might have traded it off. By this time next week, she ought to have dealt her way through half of her junk.

Over rabbit pie that night, he asked for the Lord to send rain soon. All the hard work in the world and a miraculous jump in the price for grains wouldn’t matter if the crops withered for want of water.

The next morning, Maggie said the blessing and thanked God for the dew on the ground. The woman was a cockeyed optimist if she believed it would make any difference. Todd didn’t tell her so. Faith the size of a mustard seed – that’s what the Bible said it took for a miracle. No use crushing the very innocence that might move this mountain.

But if she were innocent in that aspect, she certainly bore a pack of guilt when it came to her conduct. Folks continued to stop by, and whether they came to be sociable or to trade didn’t matter to Maggie. She treated each visit like a business opportunity. When asked what they needed, folks answered – but Todd felt it was out of politeness, not because they wanted to confess money was tight and they couldn’t much afford anything extra. Knowing the state of their own finances, Maggie hadn’t asked him for a thing. But now she was dealing with neighbors, plainly saying what she wanted or needed and procuring things he ought to have supplied.

His wife might as well wear his pants.

When Jakob and Hope Stauffer came late in the afternoon, it didn’t take long for Maggie to snoop into what they might want. At least she deferred to him when it came to arranging for Adam and the Stauffers’ mare to share time in a paddock. Jakob traded his second milk cow for several tools. They would return the calf when it was ready to be fattened, but receive half of the meat. Jakob frowned. “This is not fair. We still will owe you.”

“Twaddle! Tryin’ to cook without milk or butter’s been a mite wearing.” Magpie flashed a smile. “I’ll be in a much better mood, so mayhap Todd will owe you his sanity, too.”

Gritting his teeth, Todd let out an obligatory chuckle. He’d failed to supply one of the most basic necessities – a milk cow. And his wife’s bartering just got them one and put meat on the table. It was one thing for her to grow their food; another issue entirely when her haggling made them look like beggars.

“I’ll go on home with them and bring back the bossy and her calf.”

His wife frowned at him. “Todd Valmer, you’re spoiling things.”

Maggie twined her arm around Hope’s. “We’re asking the Stauffers to supper. Jakob can go home and round up his sister, Annie, and her husband, Phineas, and little Emmy-Lou whilst Hope and I visit over the stove.”

“I do not think we need a bossy. My wife is giving orders enough to – ”

“Pay no mind to him,” Maggie interrupted, thoroughly embarrassed by what he’d said. Surely he couldn’t have meant it the way it sounded
.

Hope’s laughter filled the air. “Just the other day, Jakob told me I’m off my feed! That’s what we get for marrying up with farmers.”

It wasn’t long before everyone from Stauffer Farm arrived with the cow and calf in tow. Hope showed Maggie how to bake biscuits in a Dutch oven by an open fire. Maggie brewed coffee and made succotash out there, too. With that well underway, giggles filled the cabin as they cut up the meat, breaded, and fried it. Legs, thighs, and breasts formed a gigantic mountain on Maggie’s largest platter. Excitement surged through her. She’d already planned a nice supper, and this would be their first time having another family as guests.

“Look here!” Todd brought in a leaf for the table. “We’ll all be able to eat together.”

“And why wouldn’t we?” Maggie asked as she helped him slip it into place.

“The table would be too crowded.”

Hope leaned into her and whispered, “German farmers – well, not just German, but especially them, when it’s harvest or when it is crowded, the men eat first. Then the women come second.”

The thought appalled Maggie. Back home, a man gave his seat to a lady. They’d never do anything so rude. She muttered, “The way they eat? It’s a wonder and a marvel the women have strength enough to set the table, let alone cook!”

Emmy-Lou slid the flowers she brought into a canning jar, and Annie let Ma hold her baby boy so she could set the table. By leaving the door open and scooting the table over, Todd sat on a chair straddling the threshold and they all crunched together at the table. Heart overflowing, Maggie declared, “I’m afraid to close my eyes for prayer, because when I open them, everything and everyone will be gone!”

“Not everyone,” Ma said, “but most of the food would be missing.”

Ma? Ma had a sense of humor? Maggie tried not to gape. As soon as the prayer ended, a flurry of activity began.

Sitting on her mama’s lap, Emmy-Lou sniffed appreciatively. “Do I get the wing?”

“Have a leg. Here you go.” Hope served them and passed the platter.

Ma decided, “You can give me the wing.”

“A leg will be easy to eat.” Maggie stuck a fork in a juicy piece. “Here you are.”

“I said I’d take a wing.”

“The leg is handy, Ma.” Todd reached over and steadied the platter.

Emmy-Lou got the giggles. “That’s funny. Legs being handy.”

Everyone set to eating, and Ma made short work of her piece. “This tastes like my recipe.”

“Delicious,” Jakob declared, helping himself to his third piece.

Busy holding her baby, Johnny, Annie leaned over and took a bite Phineas held out. “Mmm.” The graveyard of bones on Phineas’s plate declared he agreed.

Todd lost his sour look and actually winked at her! This was her first time truly entertaining, and Todd kept the conversation lively. He even fetched the coffeepot! Working together – they did that well, whether at work or play.

“It’s yummy.” Emmy-Lou’s face lit up. “Who gets the gizzard?”

“There aren’t any,” Maggie nudged the jam toward her husband.

“Hope!” Phineas teased. “Did you sneak the gizzards?”

“Of course she didn’t. The doctor told her to eat liver.” Jakob’s chest swelled. “For the baby.”

Pink rushed to Hope’s cheeks. “Well, you just let the chicken out of the bag!”

“It’s not chicken. It’s cat,” Ma corrected.

Hope looked puzzled. “Ain’t cat, neither. It’s whistle pig. Didn’t all y’all notice all the legs and no wings?”

“Are you feeling okay?” Maggie asked her new friend, giddy about the happy news of a baby. Ma started choking, and Maggie patted her on the back and kept talking to Hope. “You look chipper as a – ”

“Whistle pig?” Todd dropped the picked-clean bone onto his plate to join the pile already there. His voice sounded a little strange. “
What
is whistle pig?”

“My daddy called ’em woodchucks.” Maggie held a water glass to Ma’s mouth.

“I mostly hear them called groundhog,” Jakob added as he helped himself to another biscuit. “Good eating.”

Not wanting Ma to feel left out of the praise, Maggie said, “Since it tastes like your recipe, Ma, we’ll have to compare – ”

Ma started moaning. “I don’t feel so good. I need to lie down.”

“Her tummy’s full because she ate lots,” Emmy-Lou said. “I do that sometimes, too.”

Phineas snickered behind his napkin.

Todd repeated, “Groundhog.”

“Not many people fix it up so juicy and tender.” Hope wiped her little girl’s fingers. “Your bride did quite a job of it.”

“She sure did.” Todd’s agreement sounded less than sincere.

“Maggie,” Annie handed the baby to Phineas. “I’ll help you get Mrs. Crewel to bed. All of a sudden, she’s looking poorly.”

Understanding that Ma was frail, the guests took their leave quickly. Good thing, too. Ma got sick to her stomach. Maggie cleaned her up and tucked her in. Most men didn’t handle sickness well, so she figured Todd hiked off to the barn for a while. Dishes washed and put back on the shelf, the table scrubbed, and a bit of rose lotion on her hands, Maggie stepped outside for some fresh air.

Her husband sat on the ground, leaning against the cabin. “The night we arrived in Carver’s Holler, one of your uncles told me. But I didn’t understand.”

Stooping down, Maggie worried, “What? What’s wrong?”

“He said you could fix anything and make it taste good.”

Relief flooded her. She plopped down beside him. “You don’t have to thank me, Todd.”