by Lori Wick
As she looked up at her older brother, Julia’s eyes filled with tears. “I thought Mac was going to burn.”
“It’s okay now,” he said as he hugged her, his eyes meeting those of Mac who had been watching his wife with concern. “He’s fine. You come inside. We’ll take care of everything.”
The four MacDonalds were swept inside and made comfortable. Julia seemed to be coming around, finally realizing Mac was really okay. Her eyes watched him as he went down the hall to clean up and change.
Over supper, Mac told briefly what had happened. The stove had been very hot and a greasy pan flared up without warning. Mac had grabbed the pan and moved it directly beneath the curtains. It all happened very fast and was enough to scare everyone and fill the downstairs with acrid smoke. The house would need a complete airing out and some minor surface work done in the kitchen.
Christine bustled about at bedtime making everyone comfortable. Silas was putting his two oldest nephews to bed, and Christine was checking on Julia. She was only in the bedroom a few minutes when the door reopened and Christine walked back down the hall and to the kitchen where Luke and Mac were talking.
“Excuse me a minute, Mac.” Christine bent over her husband and whispered almost urgently for his ears alone, “Where are my nightgowns?”
Luke’s eyes met Christine’s and, though he tried to look innocent, she could see he was thoroughly enjoying this. Christine tried to look stern, but failed miserably. As they shared a long, loving look, both husband and wife were instantly back to a moment in one of the early weeks of their marriage.
Christine had just finished taking a bath in their bedroom near the stove, when she heard Luke coming down the hall. She searched quickly for a covering and grabbed the first garment she found—one of Luke’s shirts.
Luke had entered and swept her with a look but said nothing. Christine had wondered about that look, but then put it out of her mind until the following night.
Luke was already snuggled beneath the covers when Christine came in to get ready for bed. She reached into her drawer for a fresh nightgown, but surprisingly only found a stack of Luke’s shirts. She took one out and stood a moment in confusion. Understanding was not long in coming, and she turned to the man in the bed.
“Where are they?”
“Put away.”
“Where?”
“You don’t need them, Christie. Wear the shirt.”
Christine fumed as she put the shirt on, determined to show him how ridiculous it looked. But once Christine was in the shirt, Luke only smiled.
Christine, indignant and angry, stomped over and stood by the bed. “It’s indecent.”
“What’s indecent about it?” Luke found this highly amusing coming from a woman who went riding astride in her husband’s denim pants, but wisely kept from commenting.
“My legs show.” Christine looked down at the aforementioned members as though they themselves were the ones offended. The shirt stopped just above the knees.
“I know your legs show, but I’m the only one who will see them, so what’s the problem?”
“LUKE!” Christine wailed in pure frustration, but it was no use. He was not about to tell.
Christine waited until the following day for Luke to leave the house. When he did, she tore the place apart. Every nook and cranny was searched. Nothing. She hadn’t come up with a clue to where he had hidden her nightgowns.
Now husband and wife stood smiling warmly at each other. Julia needed a gown, and the story was too special to share. Luke arose, kissed his wife’s cheek, and went to fetch a nightgown. Christine didn’t follow him to the hiding place—she really didn’t want to know.
31
Everyone spent the next few days working on Mac and Julia’s house. They stayed nights at Luke and Christine’s, but every minute of daylight was spent airing and cleaning. It was amazing how fast the smell of the smoke had infiltrated everything.
The first night Mac and Julia were back in their own home and the children put to bed, Mac turned his full attention to his wife for really the first time since the fire. He had sensed all along something was wrong but, with taking care of the house and the running of the farm, he’d had no time to talk with her.
“How are you doing?” They were sitting in the kitchen, each with a cup of coffee, and Mac was studying his wife’s face with deep concentration.
“I’m fine.” Julia answered with a small smile. The truth was that her head and back ached. But this, she was convinced, was due to the last few days.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I don’t?” Julia looked truly puzzled.
“No, you don’t.” Mac’s voice was kind but firm.
“Well Mac, I feel a little achy and tired, but that’s understandable after all that’s gone on lately.” Julia’s voice told him she felt all of this was hardly worth mentioning.
Mac looked doubtful, and Julia reached for his hand. “I’m fine, honestly.” Mac continued to look at her in unbelief, but he let the matter drop.
Over the next few days Mac kept a close watch on the woman he loved. She looked pale to him, but when he tried to talk with her about it, she burst into tears and said she was still a little upset from the fire. Anxiously he watched her, but he felt helpless since she seemed to think nothing was out of the ordinary. Mac prayed and tried to leave the matter in God’s hands, hoping he would know if and when to step in.
The time to step in came ten days after they returned to the house. Mac was in the barn when the boys came running from the house to tell him their mother was on the floor.
“She just fell over, Pa,” Calvin said with fear as they followed their running father toward the house.
Julia was just coming to when Mac ran into the kitchen. He went down on the floor beside her and supported her as she tried to sit up. Her face was chalk white.
Julia opened her mouth to speak, but Mac cut in, his voice sharp with fear. “If you dare tell me you’re fine, Julia, I’ll throttle you.”
That was exactly what she had been about to say and dutifully closed her mouth. Actually, she felt a bit nauseous and was glad to be still.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Charles’ voice quivered with his question.
Julia turned to see her sons kneeling beside her, tears in their eyes. She started to reassure them, but Mac stepped in.
“Just as soon as your Uncle Mark sees her, we’ll know.”
“Oh Mac, I don’t need—”
“Not a word, Julia. Boys, get the horses out. We’re going to town.” The boys had never moved faster to do his bidding.
Leaving Julia on the couch, Mac and the boys hitched the horses to the wagon. He threatened her with dire consequences if he found her off the couch or even sitting up.
Mac carried Julia to the wagon and tried to get her to lie down in the back, but she adamantly refused. Mac gave in just to get her to town as soon as possible.
Mac moved restlessly about Susanne’s elegant living room as she sat helplessly and watched him. Julia had been with Mark in his office for over 30 minutes, and Mac was at his wits’ end.
Inside the office, Mark looked at his sister, a little surprised she did not already know what he was about to tell her.
“Julia, you’re pregnant.”
“I’m what?”
“You are going to have a baby.” Mark enunciated the words carefully as though speaking to a slow-witted child.
“But that’s impossible.”
Mark’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline on that statement, but Julia rushed on. “I mean, I just never got pregnant after Charlie, and I just assumed that I couldn’t.” Julia’s voice trailed off rather helplessly as she tried to take it all in. She was as surprised as Mark that she and Mac had not noticed any of the signs, for they had been there, staring them right in the face.
Mac! Julia’s next thoughts were of her husband. She had to tell him right away.
The door leading from the office into the
living room opened slowly, and Mac’s entire body tensed as he watched his wife walk out followed by her brother. His peripheral vision caught Mark leading Susanne from the room, but his eyes were locked on Julia.
She walked toward him and without forewarning said, “I’m going to have a baby.”
Mac’s eyes closed, and he felt as if all the air had left his body. He stood a moment trying to pull air into his lungs. “Thank You, God. Thank You, God,” his heart kept repeating.
When at last he opened his eyes, he pulled Julia tenderly into his arms. Julia felt him tremble, and her heart broke. He had been so frightened.
The boys found their parents in this embrace and, even though it was not an unusual sight, approached carefully.
When they broke apart, Calvin said, “Uncle Mark says you’re okay and that you have good news.”
Julia broke the news to them with tears in her eyes. When Mark and Sue heard shouts and laughter from the living room, they knew it was alright to return.
What followed was a joyous chaos of laughter and tears. Mark took Julia back into his office to tell her how to take care of herself and things to watch for. She had never fainted when pregnant with the boys, and he intended to keep a careful eye upon her. He insisted Mac join them since he wanted his orders followed to the letter.
A while later Mac headed the wagon for Grandma Em’s. Even with the boys fighting in the back over who would tell her the news, he thought this was probably the most beautiful day God had ever created.
32
The hour was late. Darkness had long since descended over the house. In the master bedroom Luke listened to Christine rustle and thrash about. She usually fell asleep instantly, and he wondered at her restlessness.
“Christine, what are you doing over there?” Luke asked when she shifted again and accidentally brought an elbow into his ribs.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No,” he answered truthfully. “I haven’t been to sleep yet. Why aren’t you asleep?”
Silence greeted his question.
“Christine?”
“I’m worried about Si.” She rolled over then and leaned over her husband. She could just make out his tanned face and dark hair against the whiteness of the pillow slip.
“Did you see the look on his face when Mac and Julia stopped to tell us about the baby? I know he’s happy for them, but Luke, he wants a family of his own. I can tell. Something happened in Neillsville. I don’t know what, but he’s miserable and trying to hide it. We’re not enough for him, nor should we be. He needs a wife and children of his own.”
Luke reached up in the darkness and pulled Christine into his arms. He had noticed the changes in his brother. He could hardly miss them when they worked so closely. But Silas was a private person and Luke did not feel it was his place to question him.
With Silas, Luke, and Christine living in the same house, they had become very close. But some people did not express their feelings openly, and Silas was one of them. Especially if he was upset, he kept very much to himself. Luke could not step in unless he sensed an invitation from Silas.
Christine spoke again. “With Paul not living here, it’s like he’s the only one without a family of his own. Not only is everyone married, but everyone has children. And Luke,” Christine paused, “I think I’m pregnant, too.”
Luke’s arms tightened around his wife’s frame. “You think?”
“No, actually I’m sure.” She didn’t sound at all happy about it. Luke knew if Silas realized this, he would be angry.
They didn’t talk anymore that night. Neither one had answers, and each tried to give their questions over to the One who did.
It was Saturday morning and the men had just come in for breakfast. Josh was clinging to Christine’s skirt, and Luke rescued him so his mother could work.
When the four of them were seated, Silas gave thanks for the food. He ended his prayer by thanking God for never hiding His will and for His ever-abiding faithfulness.
Both Luke and Christine stared at him on the Amen and Silas announced, “I’m going to build a house.”
“For whom?” Christine wanted to know.
“For me.”
Christine looked at Luke and knew instantly this was no surprise to him. Silas could see a storm brewing and spoke up quickly. “I’ve been praying about it for some time. I really enjoyed the little bit of work we did at Mac and Julia’s, and the cost and availability of building materials is very good right now. But most importantly, I feel God is telling me to build.”
“Where will you build?” Christine’s voice was small.
“On the far side of the big oaks.”
“It’s a pretty spot,” Christine had to admit.
“Christine, don’t look so sad. It’s what I really want and besides, you’ll need my room eventually when you give Josh brothers and sisters.”
Christine blushed and looked down at her place. Silas’ eyes flew to his brother’s and Luke smiled a warm, “yes” kind of smile. Silas stared at Christine in shock.
“Silas, don’t look so worried, I’m fine.”
“Silas, don’t look so worried, I’m fine.” He imitated her voice in as high an octave as he could reach. He looked at her incredulously and spoke in his own voice.
“I can’t believe you said that to me. First, Sue is sick to her stomach most of the day and losing weight, and then Julia decides to faint dead away on the kitchen floor, and now you ask me not to worry. Honestly, Christine, pregnant women scare me to death.”
Luke and Christine could not hold their laughter at his chagrined tone, and he was not through.
“Sue I can handle because she’s married to her doctor, but I’m still recovering from Julia. Now you go and spring this on me. I may not live through it.” Silas’ speech seemed to exhaust him for he slumped back in his seat and shook his head in despair. Luke and Christine only laughed all the harder.
Later that day Christine stood on the porch and watched her husband approach. He was moving entirely too slowly for her and she nearly shouted at him as she met him at the foot of the steps.
“Did you talk to him? Is he upset about something? If we’ve done something to make him feel unwanted, I’ll never forgive myself. Why didn’t he come to us and why didn’t you tell me?”
“Christine, he only talked to me two days ago, and he still was not sure and didn’t know when he would be. He’s rather surprised to feel such a peace so quickly.”
“But why didn’t you tell me he was at least thinking of it?”
“Because there was nothing definite.”
“Well, I don’t know how that matters,” Christine said and Luke only stared at her. “I am not overreacting.” Luke continued to stare. “Well, I’m not.” But her voice was losing its forcefulness. “I just worry about him and want him to be happy. I can’t imagine him not living here.”
“I know you care, but Christine I’ve never seen him so excited. He’s like a kid with a new toy. And you know Silas would never do this on his own. If he said he prayed, he prayed.”
Christine nodded and Luke hugged her. “God is taking care of Silas, Christine. Leave it in His hands.”
33
God was indeed taking care of Silas. Although he could not yet think of Amy without feeling pain, he felt especially close to God at this time—as though his heavenly Father was giving him special comfort.
In no way did building a house take away the yearning for a wife, but it did serve to keep Silas’ mind so occupied that the summer was slipping by and he was hardly aware of the passing of time.
The house materials had arrived and you would have thought it was Christmas as Luke and Silas inspected the goods.
Silas had fallen under the spell of a house he’d spotted in a mail-order catalog. The advertisement had described the house of his dreams with two stories and a total of four bedrooms. One of the bedrooms was on the first floor along with a front parlor, sitting room, dining ro
om and a kitchen with a large pantry.
The dining room even had a built-in china cabinet. Silas had always admired the one built into the dining room of his grandparents’ home—the house now owned by Mark and Susanne.
The second story sported three large bedrooms, all with spacious built-in closets. And at the top of the stairs was a huge linen closet.
There were special touches throughout the house, such as interior doors of soft pine in five-panel styling.
Silas’ grin nearly split his face as he stood in the spot where he would build. Christine and Josh had joined him and Luke out beneath the oaks. Silas held his nephew in his arms and spoke.
“Right here, Josh. This is where I’ll build my home—in the lee of these oaks.” Christine felt tears sting her eyes upon hearing the hopeful excitement in his voice. “Please, God,” she prayed, “make it special for Silas.”
The summer of 1889 was wonderful for crops, with just the right amount of rain and plenty of sunshine. The sunshine brought long hours of backbreaking work to someone building a house. On the other hand, the rain taught patience the hard way.
Silas paced on the front porch one rainy afternoon and stared out at the downpour. He knew it would not last long, but he felt a restlessness to be busy. Oh, there were things to be done in the barn—raising horses was a full-time job, but Silas wanted to build. It occurred to him, as he paced, that God had sent the rain and it was wrong of him to bemoan the fact.
Pausing from his restless walking, he wondered whether Grant’s crops were getting plenty of rain and sunshine. Silas had found himself riding toward Mac’s fields nearly every week, as if he could gauge Grant’s progress by keeping tabs on his brother-in-law’s crops.
It didn’t rain all the time, and Silas worked hard in hopes of having the house complete by harvest time. It felt good to walk through the house—even unfinished—and to imagine seeing it with furniture and homey touches.
Silas stood in the upstairs one day and looked at the three sizable rooms. “This is a lot of space for one man. What if I never have a wife, let alone kids?” Silas’ mind could not stay the question. Just yesterday Christine, Julia, and Sue were talking about their pregnancies. He wondered if he’d ever see his wife grow with his child.