“Why do your eyes look all funny? It looks like those round things are gonna roll on top of your nose.” He giggled. “Me and Ty have been talkin’ like mens. You wanna talk? First you gotta read this.”
“My eyes are funny because you’re so close I have to look cross-eyed.” She moved his head away. “That’s better. Now maybe the two of you should sit down.”
Ty settled on the ground in front of her, pulling his long legs up and resting his arms across them. Jacob leaned his bony elbows on her knees.
“Well, which one of you is going to tell me what’s so important you interrupted a perfectly good nap?” She took the envelope from Jacob.
“No. Let me. Let me. Then you can read it.” Jacob’s mouth twisted as he worked to open it. With his chest puffed with pride he handed her the folded note.
“Purchase of home complete. Sisters may stay as long as necessary. Say yes to the next question the boy shoots your way. That’s an order. Always your friend. William.
She looked at Ty. “Do you know what this says?”
His eyes twinkled as he pulled a matching envelope from his pocket. “Uh-huh. Got one, too. Mine came with instructions. Did yours?”
She nodded.
He winked at the boy. “Jacob, I believe it’s your turn. Do you remember what we practiced?”
Jacob hopped on one foot and giggled. “I ’member real good.” He stood straight and tall, hands to his side. “Ahhemm.” He pulled one eye shut with his fingers. “Me and Ty was wonderin’—would you be my mama?”
“Wha—?”
Jacob clapped his hands. “Please, please say yes cuz if you be my mama, then Ty says he will be my pa, and I been prayin’, and Papaw says it’s okay with him and Uncle Sam—that’s what I call him now ’stead of just Sam—says it would be fine and dandy, and—”
Robin cocked her head and smiled. “You’re making a child do your bidding?”
His gaze didn’t waver.
Her throat tightened as he leaned toward her and brushed his hand along her cheek.
“I know how hard it is for you to tell him no.”
“Jacob, can you give me one good reason why I should say yes?” She couldn’t look away.
Ty shook his head. “No, Jacob. It’s my turn now.” He held the telegram before her again. “Because this says you must follow instructions.”
“That’s it? Because a man in Chicago said I should?”
Ty rose to his knees, his eyes still locked onto hers. “No. Because this man in Kansas wants you to. Say yes, Robin, because we love you.”
“We love you? I thought you wanted to answer for yourself. It was your turn, remember?” She held her breath as he brushed his hand across her lips.
“Say yes, Robin, becauseI love you.”
“You love me?”
Ty pulled her to her feet and slipped both arms around her waist, drawing her close. He smiled. “I. Love. You.”
“But what if—”
He shook his head. “No buts, Robin, and we’ll face the what-ifs together.”
“And Jacob? Can we keep Jacob?”
His chuckle rumbled along her cheek. “Obed Mason has agreed to become the new preacher, so he’ll be staying. But he wants Jacob to have the advantage of both mama and papa. I told him I’d be his papa, but I’d need to shop around for a good woman to play the other part.”
She leaned away from him. “That’s not funny, you know.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Then say yes.”
Robin closed her eyes and her head nodded against his.
How could she answer when his lips covered hers?
EPILOGUE
“If we ain’t a sorry mess.” John eyed the knot of people sniffling and wiping their cheeks. “Ain’t this supposed to be one of them happy-from-now-on times?”
A driving rain forced the onlookers to stay indoors while Robin and Ty hurried to their buggy. Jacob’s hand-scrawledJust Married sign hung limp, but matched the wet faces of friends gathered at the back of the church.
“Kinda fittin’ isn’t it? She flew in on a storm, Ty hitched up with her in one. Guess this is one Robin what won’t be leaving come winter. What you think about that, Emma girl?”
“No amount of thinking could have prepared me for what God provided so exceeding abundant. Jacob’s got his ma and pa, plus a grandpa and uncle. The church has a new preacher, and before winter a little Wren will make her nest at the Feather.”
Lark averted her eyes when John drew her to him. “And I’ll look forward to your arrival next spring.”
She shrugged and pulled away. “Spring is a long way off, Uncle.”
“Are you and Emma gonna get married, Uncle John?” Jacob skipped circles around him. “Cuz you’re standin’ awful close. Ty and Robin liked to stand close, too. That’s why they got married.”
“Oh, Brother Mason.” Henrietta’s lace jabot fluttered as she pushed and singsonged her way through the throng.
“Oh, brother, is right,” John muttered. Emma’s elbow dug into his ribs.
Henrietta puffed to a stop in front of Obed. “I just says to Albert, I says, ‘You know, son, we must ask the new preacher for Sunday dinner.’ My, what a fine strong voice you have. Why, I just loved the way you pronounced them husband and wife. It was so . . . so manly sounding.” She fluttered her eyelashes and fanned herself with her gloves.
Obed bowed. “I do thank you, Mrs. Harvey. I’d be most happy to accept your invitation.” He grinned at John. “Mr. Wenghold has told me all about your delicious ham and sweet potatoes and what a fine hostess you are.”
John squirmed.Jumpin’ bullfrogs. Emma’s elbow nearly sliced clear through him. What he told the man was to be careful because Henrietta’s hams were dry as dirt in the middle of a Kansas summer.
“He did?” She swished her gloves at John. “Why, John.” Her cheeks glowed pink.
Emma stepped on his toe. “Yes, John, aren’t you just a talker?”
Henrietta bustled a bit closer, and John’s eyes watered from the heady scent of cloves.
“Why don’t you plan to come, too, John? I’ve plenty of room at my table for two men. And guess who will be there? E.P. Does that give you a hint?”
Emma slipped her hand into John’s and bent his little finger back. Doggone. If that Harvey woman said one more word he would be sore for days. “I’m sorry, Henrietta. I done got other plans, but I reckon the good Reverend here would enjoy a sittin’ and eatin’ ham with ya.”
Her face drooped. “Well, I suppose if you have other plans—”
“Oh, he has plans all right, Henrietta.” Emma pinched his elbow as she turned and stalked to the front of the church.
Now wouldn’t that make granny’s cat howl. “Emma, wait.” He followed her, clamped his elbows tight to his sides, made sure his feet were out of the way, and plunged his hands into his pockets before starting a conversation. He peeked around the brim of Emma’s bonnet. “Now, you wanna tell me why you is so het up?”
She crossed her arms over her bosom. “And what makes you think I’mhet up as you say?”
“Mostly cuz you done smashed my toe, pert near cracked a rib, and bent my little finger like a twig. Is that a new bonnet?”A smart man would’ve mentioned the new bonnet first thing, John Wenghold.
Emma turned and fluffed the large bow under her chin. “You noticed?”
The twinkle in the woman’s eyes made his mouth go dry. “Course I noticed—first thing.” He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth. No blisters so far, but they’d sure be coming if he couldn’t change the subject.
“But you didn’t say a thing.” She lowered her eyes.
“Well, now, I was a-waitin’.”
“Waitin’ for what? The rain to stop? Henrietta Harvey to invite you for lunch?”
She was gettin’ all het up again. Best way to stop a stampede was to get in front of the lead animal and pray they’d turn. A fella only had one chance before he got trampled. He reached for her
hand and took a deep breath. “I was a waitin’ ’til we could be alone, Emma girl. Thought I’d buy you that steak dinner I owe you—unless you want to bargain for the whole critter.”
Emma smiled and hooked her arm in his. “John Wenghold—did your mama ever tell you you’d get blisters on your tongue if you told a lie?” She squeezed his arm. “But I’ll take that steak dinner. And I’ll expect the first waltz at the Christmas dance, too.”
Christmas? John dared to put his arm around Emma’s waist. Would he ever learn the ways of this woman?
###
Lark pressed her forehead against the window as the train carrying her and Wren back to Chicago prepared to chug away from the Cedar Bluff depot. She would miss her sister, but how good it would be to see her music students again. They depended on her. She’d not had anyone depend on her before she began teaching. Robin was the oldest, and by virtue of birth was the leader. Lark cast a sideways glance at her little sister preening herself in the window’s reflection next to her. Wren was the cute one—the saucy, flighty, fun one—who assumed everyone must love her. A lot like Robin’s prairie, she surmised—unpredictable, ever changing, and you learned to love her or leave her alone. Lark smiled at the comparison. She’d need to remember to tell Robin.
She’d also need to think of a way to make her sister understand she had no intention of returning to Kansas. At least not for an entire summer and certainly not to make it her home. Professor Lucas intimated that perhaps she might be interested in a year-around position at the school. She’d wait to apprise Robin of that bit of information, however. Robin’s scowl whenever his name was mentioned signaled a concern she didn’t care to pursue.
“Wren? Goodness, girl. Will you get away from that window? You’re using it as a mirror but the people on the platform must think you’re making faces at them.”
“Maybe you should be the one looking out the window, Lark.” Wren winked.
“Who taught you to wink, Wren Elizabeth? That’s vulgar.”
“Jacob taught me, believe it or not.” Wren shrugged. “I’m going to miss him something awful. Robin’s so lucky. A new husband and a child without ever having to . . .”
“That’s quite enough, Wren. You needn’t spell it out nor announce it to the people across the aisle.”
“Well, are you going to look or not? You’re so busy scolding me that you’ll miss it. The train is already moving.”
“Oh, what could be so important that you risk creating a scene to make sure I see it?” To stop Wren’s insistence she turned to comply. The faces were beginning to blur as the train picked up speed—but not enough to distort that of Albert Harvey. Why was he there? She had explained there could be nothing more than an interest of music between them and asked him not to come to see her off. But there he stood, one hand in the air in a farewell gesture that now included all those with windows facing the depot.
“Did you see him, Lark? I think he was looking for you. Poor man’s arm is probably sore from holding it in the air for so long. Did you . . . did he declare his intentions?”
Lark rolled her eyes. Even the woman across the aisle seemed poised for her answer. “Would you please keep your voice down?IfAlbert had any intentions and had thus declared them to me, do you think I would make a public announcement?”
“You needn’t be so prickly, Lark. I only asked because . . .” She leaned closer. “Did you know Uncle John was going to advertise for a husband for Robin? What if he decides to do that for us? Wouldn’t you like to come back to Kansas with intentions, even if it’s Albert Harvey?”
“Robin wouldn’t allow Uncle John to mail order a husband for her, and I doubt she’d allow him to do anything of the kind for us. Now, you might as well relax. We’ve a long ride ahead of us.” She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. Albert was a nice man, but Professor Lucas’s offer was much more palatable than a lifetime in the company of Henrietta Harvey.
“Please don’t go to sleep, Lark. I’m not through talking. I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to do my own advertising.”
Lark bolted upright. “You’re what? That’s utter nonsense. You’ll do no such thing. For shame. How can you even entertain such an idea?”
“Oh, gracious. You’d think I was going to rob a bank. I don’t intend to sit back and let Uncle John order me a husband. I’ve already thought of a discreet notice I can post in only the finest newspapers.”
“There is nothing discreet about advertising for a husband, Wren.” She cast a furtive glance around her. How many travelers had heard this declaration?
“You go ahead and scold and scoff all you want. I’m a grown woman and I can make up my own mind. I will return to Kansas predisposed.”
“Predisposed? Wha . . . ?”
Wren giggled. “It means prepared. I found it when I was searching for words to put in my advertisement. I’m going to be prepared, sister. Just you wait and see.”
♥
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To our sons and their wives: Kip and Becky, Rob and Tami, who have encouraged me this entire journey. I love you all so very much, and value your prayers and encouragement. They think I am going to get rich . . . and they will inherit it. Won’t they be surprised!
To my critique partners, past and present: Sara, Cherie, Susie, Jennie, and Peg, who have had the courage to read my work, chew it up, spit it back at me, and rejoiced when I’ve finally gotten it right.
To my writing group: Christian Writers Fellowship, in Girard, Kansas, who have listened, critiqued, encouraged, and taught me so much.
To the “cabin” critters: Debi V., Deb R., Sara, Susie, Susan, Laura, and Christy, whose brains storm better than Kansas. And they bring chocolate.
To Deb R, for the edit and encouragement.
To my beta reader: Jeanie, who has endured the many, many changes that occur during the birth of a book. And who is a constant encourager, and prayer warrior.
And my beta “listener,” hostess with the mostest, and sweet cousin Kathy who has the patience to listen to me read my story to her, stops me when she doesn’t understand what in the world I was trying to say, and tries very hard not to go to sleep while I’m reading.
To the Hinkle family: Sam, Karen, Mason and Kensi, who live on the Rocking SK Ranch, which in my story is the Feather. I’ve combined the father and son’s names to give to one of the characters in this story. Karen is also the photographer for my author’s picture. Sam and Karen have supplied me with old pictures of the ranch home (built around the time of the Civil War) and have given me an open invitation to tramp around their ranch any time.
To our grandchildren: Rachel, Leah, Kirsten, Seth, Amy, and Drew, who are a constant joy and encouragement . . . and who keep me on my knees in prayer. I’ve begged for pink kneepads for years—so far, they’ve not paid heed.
I’m so very thankful for the part each of you have played in bringing this, my debut book, to fruition. You believed in me. What a precious gift. I love you all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julane Hiebert lives with her husband in a wee cottage by the lake in the beautiful Flint Hills of Kansas. Her love of prairie comes from a childhood spent as the daughter of a cowboy. While encouraged to pen the family’s story of raising two handicapped daughters, she has chosen to incorporate the lessons learned into the lives of the characters in her novels. Julane is the organist for a small church in an even smaller town tucked away in the hills. Living close to one son and daughter-in-law and three of their six grandchildren has been a blessing—and a relief to the son who is still 1.5 hours away. She enjoys music, reading, junk shopping, and chocolate—mostly chocolate. Julane has a passion to present God’s truth in everyday events, with ordinary not-too-perfect characters.
http://julanehiebert.blogspot.com
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