The Love Comes Softly Collection

by Janette Oke

  He turned to Ellie. “Will ya be okay till I git back?” he asked her.

  She clung to him for a moment. “I will iffen I don’t burst,” she whispered. “Oh, Lane, can ya believe it?”

  Lane put her from him gently and gave her a big grin. He reached for his coat.

  “I’ll hurry,” he promised. “I’ll hurry as fast as I can. Then we’ll talk all ’bout it when I git home.”

  He kissed her and hurried after the city lawyer.

  Ellie turned back to the stove to cover the pots. Who could tell when—or if—they ever would get around to eating their meal?

  Twenty-Eight

  Plans

  “What are we ever goin’ to do with it all?” Ellie asked when Lane returned and showed her the figure on the bank paper in his hand.

  To Ellie it had seemed to take forever for Lane to return to the farm, but, in truth, the transaction had taken place very quickly. The lawyer had been right. The town banker was most anxious to be of every assistance in order to be assured of handling Lane’s account. Both banker and lawyer were in a hurry to get the matter finalized.

  Lane could not believe his eyes when he was shown the amount of the bank note. There it was. The large sum of money was placed securely in the bank under his name.

  “I been thinkin’ an’ thinkin’ all the way home,” Lane answered Ellie’s question. “There’s just no end to what we can do.”

  “I’ll git my own sewin’ machine,” Ellie began enthusiastically.

  “Ya can have two of ’em iffen ya want to,” promised Lane, and Ellie laughed.

  “An’ I’m gonna git those new shoes I saw in Harder’s window.”

  “New shoes? Thet’s nothin’. Won’t even make a dent in the money.”

  “Oh, Lane. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it!”

  “Nor can I. It all seems like some strange dream.”

  Lane pulled Ellie down on his lap and pressed his face against her fragrant hair. “The best part of the dream,” he said, “is thet now I can give ya the things I wanted to . . . the things ya deserve. I was so scared thet I’d never—”

  “Did I ask fer things?” Ellie scolded gently, running her fingers through his hair. “All I really wanted was you, an’ ya know it.”

  Lane pulled her close and kissed her firmly. “I know it,” he whispered. “I know it, an’ thet’s what makes our love so special.”

  “Oh, Lane, there’s so much we could plan, so much to talk about—but we’d better eat this food, don’t ya think?” Ellie reminded him, pulling herself free. “Even iffen we don’t feel like it, we’d better eat. Thet is, if it’s still fit to eat.”

  They began to eat their overcooked meal, but neither of them really tasted it. There was too much to think about . . . to dream of. It seemed the possibilities were endless. They talked and laughed as they ate and as Ellie cleared the table. They talked as they washed and dried the dishes together and on into the evening until bedtime. There was just so much to discuss with this unexpected turn of events.

  “Ya know one thing thet I’d like to do?” asked Ellie as they lay snuggled together under the warm quilts of their bed.

  “What?”

  “I’d like to git an organ fer the church. Just a little organ—but a nice organ. Do ya think we could?”

  “Why not? I think it’s a great idea. I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout what we could do special like fer the church—both this church an’ our little church out west. Hadn’t thought me of an organ, but thet sounds like a first-rate idea.”

  “Let’s, then!” exclaimed Ellie.

  Lane kissed her on the ear.

  “Ya know what I was thinkin’?” he asked her.

  “What?”

  “We have the money to buy the farm.”

  “What farm?”

  “This farm.”

  “Us? Why?”

  “Why? Then ya won’t need to leave. You’ll be here, near yer ma, just like ya wanted an’—”

  “But, Lane,” Ellie protested, “ya don’t want to farm. Ya want to ranch.”

  “I know, but I wouldn’t mind. I’ll—”

  “No, ya won’t. I’d never let ya. Never, Lane.”

  “But—”

  “Listen! Mama is all prepared to let me go. It’ll be hard fer her, sure, but she’ll make it. She wouldn’t want us to change our plans just fer her. She would be unhappy iffen she thought I was unhappy, an’ I could never be happy iffen I wasn’t sure thet you were happy—don’t ya see?”

  “But I could be happy, as long as I was makin’ you happy.”

  “I wouldn’t let ya do it. You’ve always wanted to ranch. Now ya can have a ranch of yer own. Not just a little spread to git by on, but a real ranch—one ya can be proud of. An’ someday . . . someday maybe you’ll even be as blessed as Willie an’ have some sons to take it over after ya.”

  Ellie felt Lane pull her closer and kiss her hair. Then she could feel the tears on his cheeks in the darkness.

  Everyone rejoiced with Lane and Ellie over their good fortune. Ellie began in earnest to prepare for their move. She was more anxious than ever now. She couldn’t wait to see Lane’s West, to share in purchasing a ranch and establishing a home—their home. She couldn’t wait to see Missie and to once again be near to her older sister. Though they were born to different mothers, their Ma Marty had been truly a mother to them both, and they felt very close in heart, though the miles now separated them. Daily Ellie prayed that the farm might hurry and sell so they could be on their way. April passed and May came. With the warmer winds, the snow had disappeared, even in the shadowed places. Ellie fancied that soon she would be smelling spring flowers, and then the farm would sell, she was sure.

  Lane continued to work in town. He still needed the activity, he said. And he and Ellie secretly slipped the extra money into the Sunday collection plate for the use of the young preacher. He needed it worse than they did, they were sure. The organ had been ordered, and there was great anticipation over its arrival. Lane and Ellie had also laid aside, in the preacher’s care and keeping, a sizable amount to be spent in the years ahead as the church saw the need.

  Ellie was restless each day as she waited for Lane to come home. Signs had been posted in the town that if anyone was interested in the LaHaye farm, they were to go to the local livery and talk to Lane Howard. There had been a few inquiries but none of a serious nature.

  Then one day Lane came home long before his usual time.

  “Yer early,” said Ellie, a question in her statement as he poked his head in the door.

  “Aren’t ya glad to see me?” he teased.

  “’Course, but supper isn’t ready.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her. “Fergit supper,” he said. “I have some news.”

  “Good news?” she inquired.

  “I think so.”

  “Then share it.”

  “I quit my job.”

  Ellie looked puzzled. “Ya quit yer job! Thet’s fine. I’m not complainin’ none . . . but . . . why is it such good news?”

  “’Cause . . . I quit my job so I’d have time to git ready to go on home.”

  “Home?”

  “We’re free to go now. A man bought the LaHaye farm today.”

  Ellie threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Lane!” she squealed. “Lane, thet’s wonderful!”

  He picked her up and swung her around the room. “Thet’s what I think!” he shouted back at her. “Finally—we are really on our way.”

  Marty and Clark both knew how eager Lane and Ellie were to be off to start their own home. So they rejoiced with the couple and welcomed the news of the farm’s sale. It was a happy time and a sad time, and the Davis tribe gathered together to celebrate the occasion and to prepare for another good-bye. There was much excited talk around the table. Lane had already made arrangements for their train tickets. There wasn’t much packing left to be done. Ellie had already carefully boxed everything she could spare, and Lan
e had crated it for shipment. In just a few short days they would be on their way.

  Ellie was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to see Clae and Luke before she left.

  “Who knows how long it will be ’fore I see ’em again?” she mourned, and tears filled her eyes that just moments before had been full of anticipation.

  “Maybe Luke can pay us a visit when he finishes his trainin’,” Lane said in a comforting tone.

  Ellie agreed wholeheartedly, but Marty inwardly stated, Not on your life. Don’t want Luke staying out there, too.

  Marty remembered back to another girl, just as eager to set out for the West. She’d had to let that daughter—her Missie—go, too.

  Belinda cried. Ten people stood to go to her, but Marty waved them all back to their chairs.

  “I’ll go,” she said. “She might be wantin’ to eat.”

  Belinda was not hungry. Only bored. Bored and in need of a dry diaper. She hated to be wet and would not bear it for long.

  Marty changed her, glad for the excuse to leave the family gathering for a few minutes. She held the wee baby close and laid her cheek against the soft little head. “I’m so glad thet God was wise enough to send ya to me,” she whispered. “Only He knew how much I would be needin’ ya.”

  The baby grasped a tendril of her mother’s hair and tried to pull it to her mouth.

  “Quit it, ya hear?” reproached Marty softly. “You’ll have yer fingers all tangled with it. There are better things to be eatin’, I’m thinkin’.”

  The baby gurgled and changed her grip to the collar of Marty’s dress. Marty kissed her. It seemed like only yesterday she had held the tiny Ellie in her arms, and here Ellie was on the verge of leaving.

  Again Marty studied Belinda. “Well, I still have you,” she whispered. “An’ no matter how quickly time seems to fly, it will be some time ’fore you will be goin’. An’ ’fore we know it, Luke will be home, too. Oh, not home to stay. Don’t s’pose he’ll ever be home to stay again. Not really. But at least he’ll be close enough to drop in now an’ then, I’m prayin’. Close enough thet I can see fer myself just how he’s doin’.”

  She kissed the baby again and settled her on a hip for the walk downstairs. She was ready to rejoin the others now.

  On the day of Ellie and Lane’s departure, they gathered at the stage station as they had done in the past.

  Marty managed her emotions that day very well, she thought. In fact, she managed to hide her tears and even celebrate the occasion with Ellie.

  “It’s a long, long ride,” she warned Ellie. “I thought me at times it would never end. Ya do eventually git there, but by then you’ll have had yer fill of train travel fer a while.” Ellie only smiled.

  “Have ya got the package fer Missie?” Marty asked for the fifth time.

  “Right here, Mama. Right here with the other things. I will see thet she gits it just as soon as we arrive.”

  “Ya sure ya got everythin’ ya need?” This was Clark.

  “Oh, Pa,” laughed Ellie, “they have shops out there, too.”

  It was not long until their baggage was being loaded. The crated Rex complained some at his close quarters, but Lane rubbed his ear and assured him that he would be taken for a walk at every chance they got.

  Ellie, who was holding Belinda until the last possible moment, bent her head to kiss the wee girl. “Know what I’m gonna miss the most?” she whispered. “Watchin’ ya grow up.” Then the tears were falling freely, and Marty reached out to draw Ellie and Belinda close.

  The driver was soon climbing aboard and lifting the reins of the teams. The livery man held the horses’ heads and tried to quiet them, but they had been trained to run and were eager to be off.

  There were hurried last-minute hugs and kisses, and then Ellie and Lane were climbing into the stage. It wheeled off in a swirl of dust. Marty pulled out her handkerchief to wave the dust from her face and dry her eyes.

  They all turned back to their teams; no need to linger longer. Ellie was gone now. She was on her way to her dreams, and the rest of them were left behind to carry on dreams of their own.

  On the way home from town, Marty raised her head and took a careful look at the world about her.

  “I like it here, don’t you?” she asked Clark.

  “Sure do,” he answered comfortably and seemed to feel that his simple words said it all.

  “I don’t really think I’m hankerin’ fer the West, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  They rode on in silence for a while.

  “We still have Nandry an’ Clare an’ Arnie here. An’ Luke will be back, too. An’ maybe someday even Clae an’ Joe will be back.”

  “Yeah,” said Clark, “maybe so.”

  “Thet’s more’n half of ’em,” continued Marty. “Thet’s pretty good, huh?”

  “Thet’s real good—an’ ya even fergot one.”

  Marty looked puzzled for a moment and then remembered the bundle of joy in her arms.

  “Well, I did at thet. No offense, Belinda,” she said, lifting the small baby and kissing her cheek.

  “I guess Belinda will fergive ya—this once,” teased Clark.

  Marty fell silent again. She breathed deeply of the warming air. She loved the spring. There was always something so promising about it.

  “Just think, Clark. ’Fore we know it, we’ll have two new grandchildren, too.”

  Clark grinned.

  “Best part of it is,” went on Marty, “they’ll be right here where we can enjoy ’em.”

  Clark agreed.

  Marty looked about her. There was a nice green haze on the pastures. Leaves were beginning to open on the trees near the road. The blue sky looked as though it was willing strength to the green things to hurry and break free and come forth.

  “Almost gardenin’ time,” mused Marty.

  “Yup,” said Clark, taking a deep breath.

  “Ya gonna help me this year?” It was said with teasing, and they both knew she was referring back many years when he had helped a very young Marty with her first attempt at a garden.

  “Will ya let me?” he teased back.

  “Iffen yer good.”

  They both laughed.

  “My, Clark,” she said after a few moments had passed, “but don’t thet first garden of mine seem like a long time ago?”

  He looked at her, his eyes searching deep into hers. Then he reached over and took her free hand in his.

  “Does it?” he asked. “Seems to me thet it weren’t all thet far from yesterday.”

  Twenty-Nine

  The Legacy

  Baby Belinda had been fed for the night. Marty and Clark lay with her between them, spending some time admiring the perfection of the tiny baby before they would tuck her into her own bed for the night. She hadn’t fallen asleep yet and lay studying the faces she had learned to love. One of her hands firmly clasped a finger on her father’s hand. The other tiny baby fist was knotted in the front of Marty’s gown. And so she held them both. Not just with childish fingers, Marty thought, but with cords of love.

  As Marty gazed at the baby lying between them, she thought again of Ellie. So much had happened to Ellie in such a short time.

  “It’s really somethin’, ain’t it?” she murmured. “I still find it hard to believe. It sounds like somethin’ you’d read in a fairy tale or somethin’. Who would have thought any of ours would be left a legacy?”

  “An’ one of such size, too,” agreed Clark. “Oh, true, Lane ain’t startin’ off a millionaire, but he sure has ’im a better start than a lot of young men.”

  “I trust ’im with it, though,” said Marty. “It won’t go to his head none. He’ll be responsible and givin’, and he’ll put the money to good use.”

  “I been thinkin’ a lot on legacies lately,” Clark said, brushing one of Belinda’s curls between his fingers.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, the kinds of legacies one can leave behind.”
/>   “Kinds?”

  “Well, there’s the money kind. Everyone is familiar with thet. Not thet we all git one, mind ya—but at least ya hear of one now an’ then, like happened with Lane.”

  Marty nodded in agreement.

  “But there’s other kinds, too.”

  Marty waited for him to go on. Belinda let go of her grasp on the gown and waved a hand that hit Marty lightly on the chin. Marty caught the small fist and put it to her lips.

  “Take this here little one now—we gotta plan what we’re gonna be leavin’ her with. An’ I’m not talkin’ money in the bank. I’m talkin’ character—faith . . . love fer others . . . an unselfish spirit . . . independence . . . maturity.”

  Marty knew where Clark’s thoughts were leading them. She nodded silently.

  “We’ve got a big job ahead of us, Marty. It’ll be fun—but there will be work and care there, too.”

  “I was thinkin’ the other day,” admitted Marty, “here I go again! The diapers, the fevers, the teeth, the potty trainin’. Oh, Clark. There’s so much ahead of us.”

  “Then it will be school, an’ teachin’ chores, an’ friendships, an’ ’fore we know it—beaus!” said Clark.

  “It’s kinda scary,” Marty whispered.

  “Scary?” laughed Clark. “Maybe. It’d be even more scary iffen we didn’t have some pretty good examples before us.”

  “Examples?”

  “Our other kids. Not a rotten apple in the bunch.”

  Marty smiled, thinking of each one of their family.

  “Sometimes I feel so proud of ’em,” she admitted.

  “Me too,” he agreed with her. “Me too.”

  “Like Kate an’ Clare. I was so afraid. So afraid they wouldn’t be able to handle losin’ thet baby. They wanted it so much, Clark. So very much. Yet not a trace of bitterness. They truly took it like real . . . real mature Christians. They even seemed to grow sweeter an’ . . . an’ wiser. I was so proud of ’em.

  “An’ Ellie,” Marty went on. “The way she just stepped in an’ took over when Nandry was havin’ her hard time an’ showed her where she was wrong without pointin’ fingers or causin’ hurt. Ya shoulda heard her, Clark. You’d have been so pleased.