by Janice Hanna
“They are.” Virginia clasped her hands together and sighed. “Oh, I can hardly wait to see my bouquet! Yellow roses and calla lilies? I’m so blessed. And those garlands are going to be divine. I can see them now!”
As they worked, the conversation continued. Before long, however, the tone shifted. Perhaps the late morning heat had something to do with it. Amaryllis eventually retreated to the porch swing, claiming that the heat was affecting her delicate skin. Not that Virginia seemed to mind. She and Anne continued to talk as if they were old friends.
“Can I ask you a question, Anne?” Virginia looked up from her basket of colorful flowers.
“Of course.”
“I don’t mean to pry. Heaven knows it’s none of my business. But I’m curious about your mama. Why did she…? I mean, how did she… ?”
“How did she pass?” Anne finished the sentence for her.
“Yes.” Virginia dropped another flower in the basket then rose and brushed the dirt from her skirt. “How did it happen? Was she ill?”
“No.” A lump rose in Anne’s throat, making it hard to speak. “She was the most beautiful woman you ever saw. In fact, she was so beautiful that Papa paid a famous painter to have a portrait done just a year before she died. She’d never been sick a day in her life.”
“What happened, honey?” Maggie asked.
“It happened when she was expecting Kate. She was perfectly fine until those last few days. Then she got terribly sick. The doctor called it…” She shook her head, trying to remember. “Eclampsia?”
“Eclampsia. Yes.” Maggie nodded. “I had a touch of that with John. You should’ve seen my ankles. They were, well…” She paused and shook her head. “Go ahead.”
“At first the doctor was hopeful. But Mama got so sick that he finally decided Mama would have to have surgery to deliver the baby.”
Virginia’s eyes widened. “I’ve read about that. Cesarean section.”
“Yes.” Anne rose and began to pace. “I remember seeing Kate for the first time that April morning. She was such a tiny little thing. The doctor said she was only five pounds, but she was a scrapper. He felt sure she would grow big and strong.”
“And she has.” Maggie’s words rang out. “She’s a wonderful, healthy girl.”
“Yes.” Anne could still remember how frantically she’d prayed for the tiny newborn. More than that, though, she remembered her fears for her mother. “I wanted to go in and see Mama, but they wouldn’t let me.” Anne shook her head, the tears now coming. “The next day the doctor told Papa that she had an infection. I was young and silly and didn’t think much of it. I remember saying a prayer in passing, but I didn’t really plead with God to save her.” Anne shook her head. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I always felt that if I’d prayed harder, God would have answered me. Sometimes I think it’s my fault….”
“Oh, honey.” Maggie rose and pulled Anne into an embrace. “Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t let anyone speak untruths in my presence, and to say that you were in any way responsible would be wholly untrue. Your mother’s death had nothing to do with you. You were a child, distracted with your new baby sister and the usual things a child is distracted by. God doesn’t hold you accountable.”
“In church they said we have to pray without ceasing. And I know that my prayers weren’t as strong as they should have been. I’m not sure why I’ve carried so much guilt over this, but I have.”
“We don’t serve a God who slaps our hands when we make mistakes. Sure, it would be ideal if we got it right all the time, but then why would we need His grace and mercy?” Maggie ran her fingers through Anne’s hair, bringing a sense of comfort.
“Oh, Anne.” Virginia looked her way with tears in her eyes. “I had no idea the depth of the struggles you’ve been through. If I ever lost my mama…” Her gaze shifted downward to her basket. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s fine.” Anne offered a smile. “No reason you should have to walk on eggshells because of what I’ve been through. That’s the point, really…to get on with life.”
“You’re such a strong, brave girl.” Maggie tightened her hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Anne said. “But I must confess, it’s been a lot harder to pray since the night my mother died.”
Virginia rose with her basket in hand. “Oh, Anne.”
“No, it’s true. I keep trying, but it mostly just feels like my prayers are rising as high as my bedroom ceiling and then bouncing back down.”
“They’re going much further, trust me.” Maggie gave a nod. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it. So you keep praying, honey. Don’t stop. Promise me?”
Anne nodded. She pulled out her tiny cross necklace, which she fingered as she spoke. “I’ve worn this little cross every day since my mother died. It was hers. And I’ve wanted to believe that God still cares. But somewhere between feeling guilty for not praying hard enough and being angry that the Lord took her away from me, I just…” Her words drifted off.
“Your faith just shriveled up.” Maggie patted her on the arm. “Oh, Anne, don’t you see? You’re human. We all feel guilty for things we shouldn’t, and we all go through seasons where we’re angry at God.”
“Really?” Anne could hardly believe it. “I never met anyone who ever said that before. I just tucked away what I was feeling and didn’t tell anyone. I hid this little cross under my blouse and tried to forget what I used to believe. And besides, I felt like such a hypocrite.”
Maggie gave her a compassionate look. “I think the greatest way you could honor your mother right now would be to take that little cross and start wearing it on the outside again. Don’t be afraid to trust God, even with the things that make no sense.”
Anne rose and joined Virginia. Together they helped Maggie to her feet. Just then, Leo stuck his head around the front door. “Would you ladies like some lemonade before you leave?”
“No thanks, Leo,” Maggie said. “I think we’d better hurry. Bets could be along anytime now. Besides, if she saw our empty lemonade glasses, it would be a dead giveaway. She would give you fits over it.”
“I know how to wash a glass.” He winked.
“Still, it’s too risky.” Maggie shook her head. “But thank you for the offer anyway.”
“How can I thank you enough?” Virginia climbed the steps to the porch and gave Leo a warm hug. He looked a bit taken aback but hugged her in return.
“Well, I’m happy to do it. I’ll be there on Saturday night, ready to kick up my heels.”
“So you plan to dance, then?” Maggie looked at him as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
“Yes. And if Bets won’t join me, I’d be honored to take a spin around the floor with any of you fine ladies.” He gave them a nod then disappeared inside the house.
“Will wonders never cease.” Maggie shook her head. Before long, they were all laughing.
Anne glanced up at the sun, wondering about the time. “Is it safe to walk down the road? What if Bets passes us on her way home?”
“There’s a back way.” Maggie’s brows elevated. “Follow me.” She grabbed her flower basket and led them behind the house and to the right, then beyond some trees to a clearing. “It’s a little longer this way, but we’ll make it just fine.”
Amaryllis began to complain about the heat. She swatted at a couple of mosquitoes and proclaimed that they would be the death of her. Before long, she trailed behind the others. Anne and Virginia kept a steady pace just behind Maggie, who seemed determined to get them back to O’Farrell’s Honor in short order.
“Anne, I have a special favor to ask.” Virginia shifted the flower basket to her left arm and slipped her right one through Anne’s as they walked.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I know we’re new friends and all, but I would be honored if you would stand up with me at my wedding.”
“W–what?” Anne could hardly believe it. “Real
ly?”
“Well, sure. I’ve already told Amaryllis. She loved the idea.”
“She did?” Anne glanced back at Amaryllis, who continued to fuss—this time about the unlevel path they were on.
“Well, mostly.” Virginia’s eyes twinkled. “You’ve become like a sister to me.”
“Thank you,” Anne whispered, too overcome with emotion to say anything more. She suddenly found herself grateful for the dresses in her trunk. The ones she hadn’t sold off before leaving Denver, anyway. “I have the perfect dress,” she said. “It’s a soft blue sky color. Reminds me of the skies here in Groom.”
“Sky-blue.” Virginia reached to grab her hand. “Perfect.”
“Yes, perfect.” Anne gave her new friend’s hand a squeeze, realizing just how well that word suited her mood today. Oh, if only it would last forever.
Chapter Eighteen
Looking for a trip back in time? The Texas Panhandle gives you the perfect location to do just that! The next time you’re in Ochiltree County, venture over to the south bank of Wolf Creek. There you can witness “The Buried City”—stone ruins speculated to be a prehistoric town. I visited the area for the first time shortly after my mother’s death. As I gazed at those stones—just a shell of what once was—I was struck by an intriguing thought: how often do we bury our pain and grief, hoping to somehow preserve ourselves? In the end, we are little but ruined cities. I shared these thoughts with my wife, who claimed I was getting emotional in my old age. Still, I haven’t been able to shake the idea that the life I’m living now needs to be far more than a shell of what once was. Just a few thoughts to chew on, my friends. —“Tex” Morgan, reporting for the Panhandle Primer
When Anne and the other ladies returned to the house, Uncle Bertrand met them on the front porch.
“Well, hello.” Maggie climbed the steps and placed her basket of flowers on the railing.
He nodded. “Hope you don’t mind that I dropped by. I took a little drive through town today but decided to come out for a visit.”
Anne hardly knew what to make of this. Could this possibly be the same man who’d treated them with such disdain during his last visit to Colorado?
Maggie brushed the soil from her skirt. “You’ve caught us coming in from a flower-picking expedition. Would you like to help me cut these calla lilies and put them in water?”
Every eye shifted to Uncle Bertrand. He rose from the swing, offered a nod, then opened the front door for Maggie. She stepped inside, all smiles.
“I do hope you’re hungry,” she said. “I made chicken salad. My boys say it’s the best in the county.”
“Sounds wonderful.” He followed on her heels into the parlor. Anne walked behind them, still not quite understanding what was happening. Virginia and Amaryllis came too, though Amaryllis complained about the late hour and claimed she had a headache.
“You girls go on,” Anne said. “It won’t take long to clean the flowers and put them in water.”
“Are you sure?” Virginia asked.
“Of course.”
“When will we put the garlands together?” Virginia asked.
“The other ladies are coming by tomorrow morning to help with that. We’ll make the garlands and the bouquet as well as the rest of the decorations then.” Anne took Virginia’s flower basket and shooed her out the front door. “From this point on, you just focus on getting the rest you need. You have a very big day coming up. Besides, your parents are arriving today. You need to spend time with them.”
“Yes, I do.” Virginia threw her arms around Anne’s neck. “Oh, how can I ever thank you?”
“By having the best wedding day possible.”
Once the girls left, Anne entered the kitchen with the two baskets in hand. She found Maggie washing her hands at the kitchen sink and chatting with her uncle, who sat at the table staring at the other flower basket.
Maggie turned her way with a smile. “We could use some help in getting all these down to the cellar once they’re rinsed. Why don’t you go fetch those sisters of yours from Milly’s place?” She gave Anne a knowing look. “Take your time. No rush. I’ll get these flowers trimmed back and put them in water.”
“Are you sure?” Anne asked, feeling more confused than ever.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Maggie’s gaze narrowed and suddenly Anne got the message. She wanted to be left alone with Uncle Bertrand. Well, good. Perhaps Maggie could talk to him about his parenting skills. If anyone could get through to him about what Emily and Kate needed, it would be Maggie.
Anne quickly washed up and pulled up her hair to get it off her shoulders. Then she headed out the front door on her way to Milly’s to check on the girls. At the top of the porch steps, she bumped into Jake—literally.
“Well.” He grinned. “Hello to you too.”
She giggled. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“That’s quite all right.” His eyebrows elevated playfully. “Can’t think of anyone I’d rather run into.”
A wave of embarrassment washed over Anne, but she did her best not to let it show.
“Where were you headed in such a hurry?” Jake asked.
“I’m on my way to Milly’s to fetch the girls.”
“I’d better go with you.”
“Oh?” She gave him a curious look.
“Yes, um…there are snakes in the field.”
“Really?”
“Well…” His face lit up with a contented smile. “On occasion. So I’ll go along to protect you.”
“Ah.” She smiled and took his arm when he offered it. As they approached the gate, she slowed her step. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked after a moment. “It’s kind of a funny one.”
“Sure.”
“When you went to the store to fetch those yellow roses, did you also happen to buy a doll for Emily?”
He nodded. “Yes. Maybe I should have asked you first. Are you upset?”
“No, I was just wondering…did you know she buried it in the yard?” Anne stopped walking and gazed at him.
He groaned. “No. I had no idea. I can never tell what Emily might do from one moment to the next.”
“Me either.” Anne paused. “I must say, I’ve been so concerned about her. Ever since Papa died, she’s had an unusual fixation with death. I can’t seem to get her to shake it.”
“Losing a father is so hard.” Jake’s gaze shifted to the field. “It’s been three years since my father’s death, but it seems like just yesterday.” He turned to look at her, and she was stunned to see that his eyes were filled with tears. “I’ve never known a man I respected more.”
Instinctively, she reached to take his hand. “How did it happen?”
“Doc Robbins said it was a heart attack. We never saw it coming. My father went out to the fields one morning to brand the cattle and never came back.”
“Oh, Jake…” She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she left her words hanging. Seconds later she started walking again, and he kept the pace with her.
“My father was always the hardest-working man in the county. He had the idea that O’Farrell’s Honor would be the largest ranch within a hundred miles. And he very nearly accomplished that. Still, I’d trade all of this”—Jake pointed to the open fields—“for one more day with him.”
“I understand, trust me.”
Jake paused and appeared to be thinking. “You know that picture I painted? The one in Emily’s bedroom?”
“Sure. It’s really something else.”
“Thanks, but I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I just wanted to tell you why I painted it. My father worked the fields for hours a day, as I said. But you’ve never met a man more dedicated to family. He knew when to quit working and start playing. He was quite a card, my dad. Always laughing. I sometimes think that’s why my brothers are such cut-ups.”
“He sounds wonderful.”
“He was. But after he died, my memories started fading quick
ly. It was the strangest thing I’d ever experienced. I tried and tried to remember things he’d said or places we’d gone together. The only image that ever came to my mind was the one of him lying on the bed, silent and still, just before the undertaker came. Isn’t that awful?”
Anne could hardly believe it. “I had the hardest time with that too. I couldn’t erase that picture from my mind.”
“I struggled with that problem for months after my father’s death.” Jake sighed. “But I finally decided to do something about it. I went out to the field on the back side of our property where I’d seen him branding the cattle. Figured if I painted a picture of him with that brand in his palm, it would sear the image of what he’d looked like into my brain. And I also figured it would keep the memories fresh of what he did out on the property. How he worked so hard to make a home for his family.”
“That’s a wonderful story, and it makes the painting even more special,” Anne said. Off in the distance she heard the sound of children’s voices and realized how much ground they’d covered. Soon they would be at Milly’s place. Oh, but she didn’t want this conversation to end. With that in mind, Anne slowed her pace almost to a stop.
Jake halted and turned to face her. “It’s the strangest thing. Since I painted that picture, other memories have come flooding back—not just bad things, but good ones too. It opened up a well deep inside of me. Sort of like a little spring that feeds a large river. Now I have all sorts of memories of my time with him. Like the time he took me fishing at the lake and I caught my first catfish. And the time we went on a camping trip at the canyon but ended up having to come back home after only one night because I got sick.”
“I think it’s wonderful that you’re able to remember so much,” Anne said. “I wish my memories of my father were better. To be honest…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence. What was the point in remembering, anyway? It seemed every time she thought of her father, she pictured a bottle in front of him and a glass in his hand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase that image.