A Hopeful Heart and A Home, A Heart, A Husband

by Lois Richer

  As he got closer, Grady took note of her prone position. No bones at odd angles, no blood on her face. No marks. He did a quick, thorough study and was just breathing a sigh of relief when his fingers encountered the blood on the back of her head.

  “Oh, no,” he breathed, feeling the sticky red stuff ooze through his fingers. He moved her slightly to one side and gaped at the pool of red soaking into her hair. “She’s lost so much blood. Help her, God. Katy!” He yelled across the furrows and saw Katy’s little body jerk. “Bring the first-aid box behind the seat,” he called, more in control now. “Your mom has hurt herself.”

  Maggie’s big blue eyes fluttered halfway open just then and she stared up at Grady groggily. “Oh,” she murmured softly, “I prayed and God brought you.” Her mouth curved in a smile. “I hurt my head.”

  “I know you did, sweetie. Just lie still and we’ll get you all fixed up. Katy’s here and she’s going to help me.”

  “Katy came? Hi, Katy.” The thick golden lashes flopped down once, twice, before Maggie refocused on them. “Is Keeley here, too?”

  “No, Mom. She’s at the house waiting, in case someone calls. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little woozy. I’ll sit up in a minute.” Her eyelids dropped down once more. Grady was grateful they stayed closed while he pressed a gauze pad on the injury and wound a ring of gauze around her head to hold the pad in place.

  “Bring the kit, Katy,” he murmured softly. “I’m going to carry your mom to the truck. Then we’ll put her in the back seat.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Katy frowned as she followed him over and held open the truck door.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s got a concussion. We’ll take her to the hospital.” He closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. The ignition had barely turned over when the thready voice from the rear objected.

  “I’m not going to the hospital. I just hit my head. It’s nothing serious. I have to finish the field.”

  “Forget the field,” Grady muttered brusquely. “It can wait. Your head can’t. And yes, we are going to the hospital. Now be quiet!” He hadn’t meant to say it so harshly, but he was angry. How could this happen to Maggie?

  Grady contented himself with praying silently all the way back to the farm where they picked up Keeley and then headed to town. Katy quickly explained the situation and both girls sat silent, casting worried glances at their mother from time to time. Maggie said nothing and Grady wondered if she’d blacked out again.

  At the hospital, doctors and nurses brushed him aside. “You’ll have to wait with her daughters,” the nurse told him. “I’m sure the doctor will explain once he’s examined Mrs. McCarthy. Are you a friend?”

  “I’m her fiancé,” he burst out, pleased to be able to finally say the words. He didn’t care if the whole world knew; he wanted some tie to bind him and Maggie together.

  “Oh.” The nurse studied him thoroughly. “Congratulations!”

  “Thanks,” he said, glancing down the hall at the flurry of activity around Maggie’s room. “Will you let us know when we can see her?”

  “Of course.” She nodded. “But don’t worry. Maggie will be fine. She’s a very strong woman, you know.”

  Grady clenched his hands to keep from telling her that he didn’t want Maggie to be strong. He wanted her to depend on him and let down that protective barrier she carried so well. Anyway, Grady half suspected that underneath all that bravado, Maggie’s stamina was slowly crumbling. He’d seen evidence of it once or twice himself.

  “Is Mom going to be all right, Grady?” Keeley’s hand slipped into his. “She’s not going to die, is she?”

  “No, sweetie.” Grady squeezed the tiny hand in his own and held on. He wrapped his other arm around Katy and held them both. “Your mom’s going to be just fine. She hurt her head and it was a pretty deep cut, but the doctors will stitch it up. She’ll probably have to rest for a few days.”

  “But what about harvest?” Keeley whispered, staring up at him with her huge blue eyes. “We’ve just got to get the crops off this year. It’s our last chance.”

  “What do you mean, ‘our last chance’? Has something happened, Keeley?” Grady peered down into the white and worried face.

  “Go on, tell him, Keeley.” When her sister didn’t speak up, Katy grabbed Grady’s hand and tugged him toward the chairs in the waiting room. “Sit down,” she ordered in a tone he’d heard Maggie use before.

  “I’m only telling you because I’m worried about my mom. Okay?” She waited for his nod of agreement and then continued. “Mom got a call from the bank yesterday. If we miss the next payment, we have to move off the farm.”

  “Are you sure?” He stared at the nodding heads.

  “I picked up the phone and she was talking on it. I didn’t mean to listen in, but she sounded so…mad,” Keeley whispered. “I knew she was scared, though. Her voice was all shaky.”

  Grady thought back. So that explained the frenetic activity of the past twenty-four hours. “I’ll worry about the harvest,” he told them finally. “Don’t bother your mother with any of this right now. She needs to rest.”

  “Here comes the doctor.” Keeley sounded scared and Grady couldn’t help but hug her close.

  “Are you friends of Mrs. McCarthy’s?” The doctor glanced from one to the other.

  “You must be new here,” Grady muttered, shaking hands with the young man who looked little older than a teenager. He introduced the girls and then looked the doctor square in the eye. “How is she?”

  “She has a rather long cut on the back of her head which will need stitches. The scan seems to show no other injury, and since she is conscious and speaking clearly, we are hopeful that the cut is her only problem. I’m keeping her overnight just to make sure. Do you happen to know just how long she was unconscious?”

  Grady shook his head. “No idea. I left her just after noon and the girls came home close to four.”

  “Well, her color is good and she’s quite responsive, so we’ll take that as a positive sign.” He brushed a hand over the girls’ hair and bent down to their level. “I have to put some stitches in your mom’s head so that the cut she has will heal nice and neat.”

  “Then will she be okay?” Katy scuffed her toe on the floor.

  “I think so, but I’m going to have her stay here tonight just to make sure.” He studied them solemnly. “Do you think you can manage alone, just for tonight?”

  “Of course.” Keeley straightened her shoulders. “Grady will help us if we need it, and I can call Granny to come over. Just take care of our mother, Doctor.”

  “I’ll do that.” He stood and winked at them before drawing Grady aside. “Why don’t you take them for some ice cream or something? It’s going to be a while before they can see her.”

  So they did. Grady whipped the soiled seat cover off the back seat and stowed it carefully underneath so the girls wouldn’t be reminded of their mother’s injury. Then they ordered huge hot-fudge sundaes and took them to a nearby park to eat.

  “Grady? Why does God let bad things happen to good people?” Katy stared up at him with her guileless blue eyes. “Our Sunday school teacher said God is all powerful and that He can do anything. So why didn’t He stop the accident from happening to my mom?”

  Grady groaned mentally under the difficulty of answering such a challenging question.

  “Sometimes things happen that we can’t explain, honey. Things like that cut on your mom’s head. Maybe she didn’t take enough care putting the hood down or something, and that was the natural result. I don’t know.” He drew a deep breath and continued. “But the important thing is that God is still there and He can see us through all the bad times. He is in charge and if something happened, there must be a reason. We just don’t know what it is.”

  “I think we should pray for my mom,” Katy murmured. “And I don’t want to pray out loud. I want to pray by myself.”

  “She says
God can hear her thoughts,” Keeley advised him.

  “Of course He can. Why don’t we all find our own little places here in the park and say a few words to God about your mother?” Grady watched as Keeley wandered away to find a tiny patch of sunlight hidden from the wind in the shelter of a big spruce tree. Katy found a crook in the arm of a huge maple and nestled herself against the rough bark before glancing toward heaven.

  For himself, Grady preferred taking a slow stroll through the park. But he never let the girls out of his sight.

  “I have to tell you, Lord,” he began. “I don’t get it, either. She’s worked so hard. She’s been true to you, raised her kids properly and kept their lives going even though it’s been a rough, rocky road. Why is this happening?”

  He sat on the park bench and waited, wondering how God would explain it all to him. Would he hear a still, small voice? Would there be a rustling of leaves and then some great enlightenment in his mind as he at last understood the mysteries of life? Grady grinned at his own silliness. And just like that the old memory verse rolled softly through his mind.

  “Be still and know that I am God.”

  “I’ve got to hand it to You,” he murmured. “No pomp, no circumstance. Just cold hard reality. I’m supposed to realize that ‘all things work together’, aren’t I?” Grady grinned. “And if I admitted the truth, that’s the way I like it.” He got up and ambled down the leaf-strewn path for several more yards, absently studying the brilliant autumn foliage.

  “Okay, God. You’re the boss. You lead and I’ll follow as best I can. Just keep showing me the next step to take, okay?” When a bird began singing from a perch high above his head, Grady took that as a sign of God’s approval. “Keep on keeping on,” he told himself and walked back to the girls.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Ugh!” Maggie stared at the side of her head in the hallway mirror and shuddered. “Why did they have to shave it?” she asked miserably. “I look ridiculous.”

  “You look beautiful,” Grady murmured from behind. “In fact you look fantastic. And did I mention alive?” His lips brushed her neck as he turned her in his arm. “Gloria Stampford’s on her way out here. I met her at Riley’s. She said not to fuss.”

  “I’m not an invalid, Grady,” Maggie complained sourly. “I can make coffee.”

  “Yes, you can do that. And that’s all,” he warned. “I’m going to see Garret Fraser. We have to get that wheat off, and that relic in the yard isn’t going to make it back to life for the occasion.” He gulped down his coffee and headed for the door. “Rest,” he ordered, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Grady. How can I afford to pay a custom combining outfit?”

  “How can you not?” he volleyed back. “We have to get the stuff into the bin somehow, darlin’. This will be the fastest. Bye.”

  Maggie went to her bedroom to change out of the clothes she’d worn home from the hospital. When she came back into the main hallway, she found that Gloria had arrived.

  “Maggie, honey, how are you?” Gloria stood in the doorway, a small black suitcase tucked under her arm and a grin spread across her face. She moved to examine the shaved area on Maggie’s head and let out a whistle. “Those surgeons might stitch up a storm but they can’t cut worth a whit.” She giggled. “Sit down, girl. It’s time for some professional help.”

  Giving Maggie no time to argue, Gloria took her hair scissors from her bag and began to cut away.

  “Mom, you look beautiful!” Katy was the first one to comment on her new look half an hour later. “You can’t even see where the stitches are.”

  “Thank you, sweetie!” Maggie hugged her daughter, her throat tight with emotion. “Mrs. Stampford came up with the idea of leaving the top part a little longer and cutting the back very short. The stitches are hidden underneath. It feels strange,” she added, shaking her head carefully. “As though a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.”

  “You look younger,” Keeley added, her head tilted to one side. “It makes your eyes look really big, too.”

  “I loved your hair long,” Grady added from the doorway. “But you look beautiful this way, too. I must say, though, when you said you wanted a professional haircut, I didn’t think you’d go to these extremes to get one.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes at his droll look as the girls giggled in the background. “Very funny,” she muttered, marching over to turn off the oven and lift out a pan of rolls. “You should be in Hollywood!”

  “Can’t,” he muttered, grabbing one of the still hot cinnamon rolls she’d put to cool on the counter. “More important stuff here. I thought I told you to relax.” He glared at her but the effect was spoiled by the sticky sugar glaze that coated one cheek.

  “Gloria mixed these up while I was resting,” she told him cheekily. “She’s gone home and they needed to come out.”

  He winked at the girls and lifted one hand to touch Maggie’s forehead. “I don’t think you’re all well just yet.” He grinned. “Who in their right mind would pick the hottest day of the year to bake?”

  Maggie could feel the pink heat rising in her cheeks but she let his arm remain around her waist anyway. “It’s going to cool off pretty soon,” she murmured. “Fall evenings around here are always chilly. What about Fraser?”

  “Starts in the morning,” Grady told her, smiling at her sigh of relief.

  “Wasn’t he booked up?”

  “Yeah, but the others agreed to wait until he was finished here. I think it’s their way of helping out after the accident.”

  “I don’t want charity,” Maggie began, but Grady’s fingers covered her mouth.

  “It’s not charity, Margaret Mary. It’s an act of friendship by your neighbors. Treat it that way.” His eyes were softly glinting in the warm kitchen and Maggie wondered if she would ever get used to having Grady there to lean on. “Why don’t we have an early supper down by the creek, Maggie? The girls will help, won’t you?” He tilted his head sideways as he glanced at the two.

  Maggie saw wide grins split her daughters’ mouths.

  “With a fire and everything?” Katy asked. “All right!” She raced Keeley to the fridge and the two of them began pulling things out willy-nilly.

  “We’ve got that jellied salad Mrs. Walton brought over. And Mrs. Enns-of-the—” She stopped upon seeing her mother’s frown and reworded her sentence. “Mrs. Enns made these little sausage roll things. She said you just have to heat them in the oven.”

  “Gloria left some of her famous coleslaw,” Maggie added, trying to relax and enjoy the moment. “And Henrietta came by with a chocolate cake this morning.” It would be nice not to have to cook a meal in this heat.

  “I can make lemonade,” Keeley offered, and began lifting the lemons onto the counter. “I’ll put it in that big jug.”

  “And your mother will sit down here and rest while we get everything ready. Won’t you, Maggie?” Grady chided, pressing her into the nearest chair. “Won’t you?” he repeated more quietly.

  “Yes, all right. But I really do feel fine. I’m just concerned about that barley.” She clasped his arm. “Is the swather working again?”

  “It’s running, if that’s what you mean,” Grady mumbled, placing different items carefully into the big, old-fashioned picnic basket. “I think, under the circumstances, that’s the best we can hope for. I’ll start cutting again tomorrow while they’re combining. We should be well ahead of the game.”

  But some niggling doubt, some bit of worry nagged at the back of Maggie’s mind, preventing her from completely relaxing later, after the girls gobbled down their food and then raced with the dog through the now-shallow river.

  “They sure love this place,” Grady mused, watching Katy turn cartwheels on the sandy edge. He burst out laughing as Keeley tried and ended up toppling over onto her rump. His eyes moved and Maggie felt his intense scrutiny. “And regardless of what you say, I think you do, too.”

  “In the best of all possible worlds,
I suppose I would like living here,” Maggie murmured, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Given half a chance and a bit of modernizing, this farm could really be something.”

  “What was it like here when you were growing up?” Grady moved a little closer and slid his arm around her shoulders, hugging her against his solid warmth.

  “I thought it was the best place in the world.” Maggie let her mind slide back to those halcyon days when life had been carefree. “I had tons of animals. We all did. My dad had more land than I have now and we had two hired men who helped him out. We were never rich but there was always enough for everyone. At least, I thought there was.” She wondered suddenly, if her parents had struggled to pay the bills. Somehow she didn’t think so.

  “What do you remember most clearly?”

  Maggie closed her eyes and let herself relax. “Thanksgiving,” she murmured. “I always loved the fall, but Thanksgiving was my favorite.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. The bounty, I suppose. There was always the excitement of getting the crop off and the feeling of satisfaction when it was all done. We all helped get the grain in the bins, and dug and bagged the vegetables. We had to drag them into the root cellar. My mother always had shelves of fruit and jellies and jams. Dill pickles were usually ready by Thanksgiving.” She got lost in those memories of the past.

  “What else?”

  “Well, there were the decorations at church, of course. My dad would haul in a couple of bales as the background for our display. We’d get donated pumpkins and potatoes—all kinds of stuff that would go to the Bible school in the city after the service. Beth and I always dried and pressed a pile of leaves and we’d lay them around. My mom saved a pot of flowers for the center of the display and sometimes Dad would have a sheaf of wheat there, too.”

  “Was that when the Thanksgiving quilt tradition got started?”

  Maggie started, staring at him in surprise. “You know about that?”

  “Of course. Your mother.” He waited for her to explain and so Maggie did.

  “Actually, the quilt was my grandmother’s idea. She always had her Christmas shopping done long before anyone else, and when the fall came along, she said she got itchy fingers and needed to give one more thing. So she began making a quilt that was sold to raise money for a gift for the missionaries.” Maggie grinned. “I loved helping her with that quilt, although I’m sure it caused her a whole lot more work.”