by Janette Oke
Centuries seemed to drag by, and Missie finally wriggled out of Marty’s arms and fell asleep on her blanket in a corner. But eventually the doctor appeared at the door. Clark crossed to Marty, placing a hand on her shoulder as if to protect her from hearing the worst, but the doctor smiled at them.
“Well, Mr. Davis,” he said, looking at Clark, who was, after all, the one responsible for his coming to this town. “Your boy is going to be just fine. Had this button lodged in his throat; luckily it was turned sideways or—”
“It weren’t luck,” Clark responded.
“Call it what you may”—the doctor shrugged—“it’s out now. You can see him if you wish.”
Marty stood up. He is all right. My baby is all right. She wasn’t sure her legs could hold her upright. “Oh, God, he’s all right. Thank ya. Thank ya!” she exclaimed.
If it hadn’t been for Clark’s arms about her, she would have gone down in a heap. He pulled her to him, and they wept in thankfulness together.
Clark and Marty stood looking down at the relaxed but pale little face, relief flooding through them. Marty had not released Clark’s hand and his arm still steadied her.
“He’s been through a lot, poor little fellow,” the doctor said sympathetically, and Marty felt she would be forever beholden to this kindly man.
“He needs a long, restful sleep now,” the doctor said. “He’s still under the effect of the sleeping draught we gave him. I expect he’ll sleep through the night without stirring. My wife and I will take turns sitting with him. You folks had best try to get some rest. I’m sure the hotel across the street will have a room.”
“Shouldn’t... shouldn’t we stay with ’im?” Marty finally found her voice.
“No need, ma’am,” the doctor answered. “He’ll sleep, and seems to me you could be using some yourself.”
“He’s right,” Clark said. “Ya be needin’ some rest—an’ some supper, too. Come on. Let’s get across to the hotel.”
With a last glance at the sleeping baby, stroking his cheek to assure herself that he was really all right, Marty allowed herself to be led out. Clark picked up the tired and hungry Missie and carried her across the street.
Marty was glad to sink into the chair and hold Missie close, crooning words of love to her, while Clark made arrangements at the desk.
Clark returned to her. “They’ll rustle up some supper an’ then show ya to a room.”
“What ’bout you?”
“I’ll be needin’ to care fer the horses. They need a good rubdown an’ a bit of special care.”
Marty nodded. Right now she dearly loved old Dan and Charlie.
“We’ll wait fer ya,” she nodded.
“Be no need—” Clark started.
“Yes, we’ll want to wait for ya.”
Clark agreed and went out. While he was gone, Marty told Missie what a brave girl she had been, and how she had helped baby Clare by calling her mama and getting her pa, and lying still on the wagon floor and not crying at the doctor’s. She was a big girl and her mama loved her very much.
To Marty’s bewilderment, large tears filled Missie’s eyes and she began to cry.
At Marty’s prompting, she finally sobbed, “But... I spill... buttons.”
Marty pulled her close, rocking her gently. “Missie, Missie, it weren’t yer fault that baby Clare found a button thet got missed in our pickin’ up. It jest happened, thet’s all. Don’t ya be frettin’ ’bout it. Mama an’ yer pa love ya so very much, an’ you was a brave girl to be so good. You hush ya, now.”
She finally got the little girl comforted.
Clark returned, reporting that Dan and Charlie would be fine after a good rest. And they’d get it, too, he declared—they’d earned it.
The three went in together to the hotel dining room. But none of them felt much like eating. Missie was too tired, Marty too spent, and Clark too relieved to be much interested in food.
After making an effort to down a light meal, they requested that they be shown to their room.
A small cot had been placed in one corner, and the first thing Marty did was prepare Missie for bed as best she could. There was no soft, warm nightie, but Missie didn’t mind. She fell asleep almost before she finished her short prayer.
Marty sat beside her until she was sure the child was asleep, then kissed her again and went over to a very weary Clark, who was trying to relax in a large chair.
What could she say to this man who sat before her? This man who comforted her when she sorrowed, understood her joys, gave her strength when her own strength was spent, shared with her his faith, and introduced her to his God. There was so much she felt. That strange, deep stirring within her—she understood it now. It was a longing for this man, his love. She wanted him; she knew that now. But how... how could she tell him?
She stood there mute, wanting to say it all, but no words came. Then he rose and reached for his hat.
“Where ya be headin’?” She found her voice then.
“I’m thinkin’ thet I’ll spend me the night over at the doc’s. Iffen little Clare be wakin’, I’m thinkin’ thet he should wake to some of his own ’stead of strangers.”
“But Doc says he won’t wake till morn.”
“Maybe so. All the same, I’ll find comfort jest watchin’ him sleep peaceful like. I’ll be over in the mornin’ to be sure ya not be needin’ anythin’.”
He turned to go, but she knew she mustn’t let him. If he went now without knowing...
Still her voice would not obey her command. She reached out and took his sleeve. He turned to her. She could only look at him, imploring him to read in her eyes what she could not say with her lips.
He looked into her face searchingly; then he stepped closer and his hands went to her shoulders, drawing her toward him.
He must have read there what she wanted him to see, but still he hesitated a moment.
“Ya bein’ sure?” he asked quietly.
She nodded her head, looking deep into his eyes, and then she was in his arms, being held the way she ached to be held, feeling the strength of his body tight against her, raising trembling lips to his.
How long had she wanted this? She wasn’t sure. She only knew that now it seemed like forever. She loved him so much. She must later find the words to tell him so, but for now she would content herself with being held close, hearing his words of love whispered tenderly against her hair.
How did it all come about—this miracle of love? She didn’t know. It had come upon her unawares... softly.
Hallmark Channel &
Michael Landon Jr.
team up to produce a
Hallmark Channel
Original Movie
based on Janette Oke’s
signature novel,
Love Comes Softly !
* * *
Now Available on DVD/VHS.
While modifications were required for the movie version and its two-hour time limitation, Landon, who co-wrote the screenplay, directs While the film with great sensitivity to the author’s original vision for the story. Katherine Heigl’s presentation of Marty captures the breadth of emotions felt by a girl trapped in a marriage of convenience out on the prairie. Dale Midkiff ’s character of Clark conveys the strength, patience and dignity of a frontiersman in extremely awkward circumstances. And Skye Bartusiak is an extraordinarily appealing young Missie as she learns to know and accept a new mother not of her choosing.
The remaining seven novels in the LOVE COMES SOFTLY series also have been revised and are available in your local bookstore.
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