The Love Comes Softly Collection

by Janette Oke

  “Fashions do not change that much—or that quickly—in my hometown,” she assured the butler. “I think that along with the few things I take, I’ll manage just fine.”

  “As you wish, miss,” he replied courteously, but she could see he was not really convinced.

  To Belinda’s surprise it did take her nearly till departure time to complete her preparations. Wouldn’t Ma love to see this pink dress? But then I won’t have room for the blue one that matches my eyes, she debated. Eventually she made all the necessary decisions. The stylish blue hat was carefully tucked in the hatbox along with some extra pairs of white gloves. She took one last look around her room, tidied her dresser and her bathroom, and rang for Windsor.

  As the butler left her room with her bag and hatbox, Belinda pinned her traveling hat in place and picked up a light wrap. The day was still pleasantly warm, so she would not put it on just yet. She followed Windsor down the steps, smiled a good-bye to the staff, who had gathered to see her off, and climbed aboard the carriage.

  As the team moved down the long, circular lane, Belinda turned for one more look at the big house. Marshall Manor. It seemed impossible that she had learned to think of the beautiful place as home.

  Then Belinda eagerly turned forward. No, not home, she corrected herself. Home was where she was going now. Home was Pa and Ma and Clare and Kate. Home was Arnie and Anne. Home was Luke and Abbie. Home was nieces and nephews who had most likely forgotten who she was and what she had once meant to them. That was home. Belinda held her breath in excitement and anticipation. She could hardly wait to get home . . . but at the same time she felt a nagging uncertainty.

  Will it be the same? Can it possibly be the same? How much has changed? What if . . . what if . . . ? But Belinda finally made herself stop. She would take things one day at a time. For now she would concentrate on her westward journey and seeing again the faces of those she loved.

  Belinda was sure the train trip west to her home was taking many times longer than it had taken to travel east to Boston. At least it sure seems longer, she told herself. Each stop, each large city and small town they passed meant that much greater excitement and impatience in Belinda. Sitting on the edge of her seat, she strained to see ahead as far as possible and willed the train to move faster.

  She was too agitated to pay much attention to her fellow passengers. Usually she liked to watch people around her. She twisted her hands nervously until her gloves were soiled and wrinkled. I’m glad I brought extra pairs, she thought distractedly.

  Meals were provided with the ticket, but she really did not feel hungry. To help pass some time, though, she did go to the dining car for each mealtime. She even managed a nod and smile when she met an elderly person or a young mother with her children, but certainly not with her usual interest and enthusiasm. Back in her seat, Belinda concentrated on the distant horizon, aching, longing for the train to roll into the familiar station and announce her arrival with a hiss of steam.

  The closer she got to home, the more agitated she became. She fidgeted, fretted, and fumbled with her purse straps. Only her good manners kept her from pacing the aisle. Will this trip ever end? she asked through gritted teeth.

  She had decided to keep her visit a surprise and notified only Luke. She would have enjoyed surprising him, also, but it seemed right that someone know of her plans.

  “Don’t tell the others,” she had warned. “I want it to be a secret.” Belinda had no reason to think he would give it away. But as she sat fidgeting on the velvet-covered seat of the passenger car, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Will the shock be too much for Mama? she wondered. What if Luke is busy with a house call or surgery and not able to meet the train? How will I get out to the farm?

  Belinda’s thoughts whirled, fretful with imaginary worries. Had she been childish and silly in her desire for surprise? Well, it’s too late now, she finally concluded. She could only wait to see how it would all turn out.

  And then they passed a familiar farm—they were only a few miles out of town. Belinda’s throat was dry and her hands moist. I’ll soon be there. I’ll soon be home, she exulted. She tried to calm her racing heart with deep breaths, but it wouldn’t be stilled. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, trying to pray. Even her prayer was jumbled.

  Oh, God, she managed to get her thoughts together in order to begin, I’m so excited. So . . . so dizzy with the thought of being home. I’ve been so lonesome. More lonesome than I even knew. Help me. Help Mama. And Pa. Help me not to shock them too much. And please may they be well. All those I love. I’ll . . . I’ll just about die if they’ve noticeably failed in health since I’ve been gone. I don’t think I could stand it, Lord. Just . . . just be with us . . . all of us . . . and help us to have good days together. And . . . be with me . . . and with Mama when the time comes for me to go back to Boston. It’ll be hard, Lord. Really hard . . . for both of us.

  The train blew the whistle—long and loud—and Belinda finished in a rush, And thanks so much, Lord, for giving me this chance to come home. Back where her heart had always been. As the wheels churned to a stop, she took a deep breath, gathered her suitcase and hatbox, and moved down the aisle toward the exit. Only one other passenger was walking toward the door. Not many folks get off at this small whistle-stop, Belinda reminded herself.

  And then she was in the open air and down the steps. A kindly porter offered assistance. Stepping onto the wooden platform, she paused to look around and heard her name spoken. There he was—her doctor brother Luke, his arms outstretched toward her as the wind whipped the tails of his coat.

  With a glad little cry, Belinda ran toward the open arms. “Oh, Luke, Luke!” was all she could manage.

  They walked from the station together, Luke carrying Belinda’s heavy suitcase and she the hatbox. “I didn’t dare bring the team,” Luke was telling her. “I knew Abbie would ask questions if I harnessed the team to go to the office.”

  “Oh, the office!” cried Belinda. “I can hardly wait to see your new office.”

  “But not today,” Luke pointed out firmly. “I don’t plan to do one thing today except escort you to the family. I could hardly live with not telling them, Belinda! Abbie and the kids will be so excited. And then we’ll need to get you on home to Ma and Pa. They won’t believe their eyes. Just to sorta prepare the way, I told Ma that Abbie and I would be coming out to the farm for supper tonight.”

  Belinda laughed, thinking how smart Luke had been and how much fun it was going to be.

  “I told Jackson that I was taking the rest of the day off. Thankfully he didn’t ask why,” Luke explained.

  At the mention of Jackson, Belinda felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. Does Jackson still think that I should . . . that I might care for him? she wondered. She hoped not.

  But Luke was talking.

  “By the way, you wouldn’t want your old job back, would you?”

  At Belinda’s questioning look, he hurried on. “No one has said anything yet, but I’ve the feeling that I might not have my nurse for long.”

  “Is anything wrong with Flo?” Belinda questioned.

  “Oh my, no,” laughed Luke. “Unless you consider being in love as something wrong.”

  “She’s in love? That’s nice,” Belinda smiled, relieved. “So who’s the lucky young man? Anyone I know?”

  “Quite well, in fact,” responded Luke, looking steadily into Belinda’s face. “Jackson.”

  “Jackson?” Belinda stopped. The news was quite a shock. And then to Belinda’s surprise she realized it was not only a shock—but a relief. She no longer needed to worry about Jackson. He had found happiness with someone else. She fell in step again with her big brother. “That’s nice,” she smiled. “Jackson and Flo. I think they’ll make a very nice couple.”

  “Yes,” he grinned at her, looking relieved. “They do make a great couple. We’re all happy for them.”

  Five

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  “I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it!” cried Abbie over and over as she held Belinda close, laughing and crying at the same time. “You’re here. Really here! We had started to think you’d never come back.”

  Belinda understood immediately that Abbie assumed she was home to stay. She decided there would be plenty of time for explanations about that later. Instead, she returned the warm hug, the tears brimming in her own eyes.

  “The youngsters!” cried Abbie. “They’ll be so excited to see you. They’re in the backyard. Luke, will you—?”

  But Luke had already thought of the children and gone to fetch them. In they rushed to see the surprise “visitor” their father had summoned them to see.

  Nine-year-old Thomas was still running when he burst through the kitchen door, but he slid to a stop, looking at Belinda in unbelief, and then let out a shriek. “Aunt Belinda!” he cried, but his feet did not leave the spot.

  Aaron, seven, pushed forward next to see for himself. He took one look at Belinda, then without missing a step he threw himself headlong at her, his small arms wrapping around her legs, his face buried in her skirts. To everyone’s amazement he began to sob.

  Belinda, perplexed, reached down to hug the boy. “Aaron, Aaron,” she whispered. “Aaron, whatever is wrong?” She pushed him back gently, then lifted him into her arms.

  He buried his face against her shoulder. “I . . . I thought you weren’t never coming back,” he cried. “I . . . I . . . every day we prayed for you . . . but you never came home.” Belinda just held him and rocked him back and forth, with tears coursing down her own cheeks.

  “Shhh. Shhh,” she comforted the child. “I’m back. See, I’m back.”

  Thomas came forward then and wrapped his arms around Belinda’s waist. She couldn’t believe how tall he had grown.

  “Thomas,” she said, a hand on his mop of brown hair, “look at you. Just look at you. You’ve grown two feet.”

  Thomas grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always had two feet,” he countered, and the kitchen filled with laughter at his little joke.

  Belinda sat down on a kitchen chair, Aaron still on her lap. The emotional storm had passed, and he was busily mopping up his face with a checkered handkerchief supplied by his mother. Thomas stood close beside Belinda, carefully studying her face.

  “Where’s Ruthie?” Belinda asked.

  “Pa had to go get her. She went to Muffie’s house,” Thomas explained.

  “Who’s Muffie?” asked Belinda innocently. Abbie was clucking her tongue impatiently.

  “She’s not to go there without permission,” she said, irritation in her tone. “She knows that.”

  “Muffie is a dog,” supplied Aaron. “He lives down the street.”

  Belinda looked at Abbie. Has Ruthie really gone to visit a dog? her eyes asked.

  “The Larsons—two houses down. They’re an older couple—who love children. I think Ruthie would live there if she could. They spoil her something awful.” Abbie shook her head. “They have a little dog. Ruthie uses that as her excuse to—”

  Just then the back door opened and Luke entered, the errant Ruthie by the hand. Her parents exchanged glances. Discipline would need to be meted out—but not at the moment, they seemed to agree. They would deal with the infraction later.

  Ruthie, suddenly shy, was too young to remember her aunt Belinda, though Thomas and Aaron had certainly kept her posted about the fact that she had such an aunt. She clasped her father’s hand more tightly and twisted herself behind him.

  Thomas urged her to come over. “This is Aunt Belinda,” he prompted, tapping Belinda on the shoulder. Aaron’s arm tightened possessively around Belinda’s neck.

  Ruthie finally was coaxed to release her hold on her father and took hesitant steps toward Belinda. Her head was slightly down, her tongue tucked into a corner of her mouth. Shyly she moved forward, and Belinda wondered how she would manage to hold another child. She reached a hand toward Ruthie. The child took it and lowered her eyes, moving her little shoulders back and forth in embarrassment as she stood before them. Aaron pulled her in close.

  “It’s our aunt Belinda,” he explained. “’Member? We told you ’bout her. She’s nice. She’s home now.”

  Ruthie managed a shy smile. She even allowed a small hug.

  “Ruthie doesn’t remember me like you do,” Belinda informed Aaron. “She was still so tiny when I left. Just a baby really.”

  Thomas broke in excitedly, “Does Grandma know you’re here?”

  Belinda shook her head.

  Thomas swung back to his father. “Can we take her out, Pa? Can we? Just think how s’prised Grandma’s gonna be.”

  Aaron scrambled off Belinda’s lap so quickly she feared he was falling and grabbed for the boy. But he landed on his feet—like a cat, Belinda thought with a smile—and joined with Thomas in pleading for a trip to the farm. Even young Ruthie began to clap her hands and to beg.

  “Hush. Hush, all of you,” Luke laughed, holding up his hands. “Of course we’ll take Aunt Belinda to the farm. But first she needs to catch her breath. Now I suggest we let her freshen up a bit while your mama puts on the tea. We’ll have tea together, and then we’ll all go to the farm. I told Grandma we’d be out to join her for supper.”

  Three children cheered loudly, and Belinda was tempted to place her hands over her ears. Instead, she chuckled to herself, It certainly was never this noisy at Marshall Manor!

  “Thomas, could you hand me that hatbox, please?” Belinda asked.

  “You already have a hat on,” Aaron reminded her, looking at her curiously.

  Belinda laughed. “Yes, I know,” she admitted.

  “You’re going to put it in the box?” asked Thomas.

  “Well, that would be a good idea, too, but right now I’m looking for something. . . .” Belinda searched the interior for a moment and came up with a bag of peppermints. “These are for all of you to share,” she said, passing the bag of candy to Abbie. “Your mama will pass them out as she wishes.”

  Three sets of eyes brightened and three pairs of hands reached toward Abbie. She allowed one candy per child and tucked the rest safely away in the cupboard. As Belinda left the room to go wash, she heard Luke begin his discussion with Ruthie.

  “Now, young lady, what has your mama told you about running off to see Muffie without asking her for permission?” he began.

  Belinda heard a little sob from the girl.

  Oh, dear, she thought as she went into the bathroom and removed her hat to tidy her hair and wash her hands and face. I’m glad it’s not me who has to discipline. It must be so much easier to just blink at some things.

  But she knew Luke would not do that, easy as it would have been. “Discipline needs to be consistent,” she had often heard Luke say, “or it is not discipline—only punishment.” And she was well aware of the fact her brother did not believe in punishment for its own sake.

  Belinda’s excitement matched the children’s during the ride to the farm. Thomas, Aaron, and Ruthie all talked constantly, vying for her attention and pointing out every farm and landmark along the way. Belinda could have named them all herself, but she allowed them the fun of being her “tour guides.”

  The nearer they came to the farm, the harder Belinda’s heart pounded. Have I done this right? Should I have warned the folks of my coming? she debated within herself again. What if the shock . . . ? She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the children’s chatter, grasping the buggy seat until her knuckles turned white. Luke was already pressing the team as fast as safety would allow.

  And then they were turning down the long lane. Belinda had always thought of the white farmhouse as large. She was surprised at how small it looked to her now—certainly small compared to Marshall Manor. Small and quite simple.

  But it is home, she rejoiced. Belinda edged forward on the seat and could scarcely wait for the buggy to stop.

  “Now, don’t you holler out anyth
ing to Grandma,” Luke warned the children. “Aunt Belinda wants to surprise her.” They nodded in wide-eyed understanding, and Ruthie clapped a hand over her own mouth “just in case.”

  The farm dog welcomed them, even seeming to remember Belinda. He stopped at her side long enough to lick her hand and wag his tail, and she patted his head fondly. “You remember me, don’t you?” she murmured with satisfaction. Then the dog scampered away, far more interested in the children who ran on ahead to the house.

  Marty appeared at the door, drying her hands on her apron. “You’re earlier than I expected,” she called. “How did you get away from the office so soon?” She leaned down to hug Aaron and Ruthie. “How’s school, Thomas?” she inquired.

  Belinda, screened behind Luke and Abbie, could hardly contain herself. She wished to rush headlong into her mother’s arms. She suppressed the urge and swallowed away a sob from her throat.

  “Ready,” whispered Luke, and Belinda nodded, tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. The three adults moved toward the farmhouse. Marty was still busy chatting with the three youngsters. Belinda could hardly believe they hadn’t even suggested they had a surprise for Grandma, though they were casting furtive glances toward the approaching adults.

  Belinda had almost reached her mother when wee Ruthie could keep quiet no longer. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing a pudgy finger at Belinda.

  Marty looked up. Luke reacted quickly, stepping aside at just that minute.

  Belinda heard Marty’s gasp. With a cry of “my baby” she threw herself toward her youngest. Belinda met her halfway and, weeping, they wrapped their arms around each other. Marty was whispering words of love and endearment over and over, but now she was saying “Belinda,” not “baby.” Belinda did not remember her mother calling her “baby” before. Is that really how she thinks of me? she wondered for a moment.

  “Oh, Mama,” Belinda finally managed, “I’m so glad to see you!”