by Linda Ford
So after supper, she donned her oldest clothes, put buckets and rags in the car and headed for town. No one had expressed any concern when she’d announced her plans. Justin had taken to disappearing after the evening meal. She refused to admit she might have welcomed his company. Only twice more had he gone with her to bring the cow and calf home. She told herself she didn’t enjoy his presence more than she should, didn’t find his comments amusing, didn’t find comfort in being able to talk to him about the farm, the garden and, yes, even feed for the cow.
She’d begin work on the house then visit Joanie, seeing she was nearby. She missed her best friend. They’d shared secrets and dreams since Madge and her family moved to the area, but lately Madge was too busy to spend time with her. Of course, she couldn’t tell Joanie the whole truth of how she felt about Justin, but still, she could enjoy her friend’s company, which would cheer her up.
Judd had to force himself to walk away from the farm each evening. He’d discovered how much fun it was to spend a few pleasant hours with Madge after a day of slaving over books with Louisa. Although Louisa enjoyed it a great deal, Judd grew increasingly aware of why he’d abandoned teaching in the first place. He longed for activity, fresh air and open spaces. As he watched Madge work, he itched to help her. Shucks. He ached to do anything physical instead of being the lame, cough-ridden Justin Bellamy.
His only reprieve had been the few hours he’d spent helping Madge. They seemed to find a hundred things to laugh about the few times she’d allowed him to accompany her. He found her an intelligent conversationalist with strong opinions on how the country was being run.
“Run into the ground,” she insisted, last time he’d gone with her to bring the calf home.
“And how would you fix things?”
She chuckled. “I don’t suppose I could. But it seems to me there is too much being taken from the poor only to benefit the rich. And shepherding all those single men into camps…why, that’s just wrong.”
“Some of them are happy enough to have a place to sleep, a meal to eat and work to do.”
“I have a friend whose brother is in one of those places. He gets twenty cents a day for backbreaking work. What an insult.”
He half agreed but wanted to see her get fired up with passion. “For some, it’s better than what they had.”
“Pity the man who finds that sort of life a blessing.”
He chuckled. “What would you do with them?”
“Treat them with dignity. Don’t let the banks take away their land. Do something about the low commodity prices. Seems to me that wouldn’t cost the government any more than sending them to camps.” She sniffed. “Though from what I hear, the camps aren’t costing them much. I don’t know how the men will survive winter in the poor quarters.” She stopped to stare at him as if he had something to do with the conditions. “Everyone deserves to be treated fairly, honestly and with dignity, don’t you think?”
“Yes, ma’am. I certainly do. And let it be known I fully agree with you. That’s part of the reason I took this job.” He paused to think momentarily of the future. “I’ll head back west to the ranching country when the time is right.”
She considered him for a long hard moment, searching deep into his thoughts.
He’d done his best to appear open and honest. But there were things he must hide, even though it pained him to do so.
“When will the time be right?”
“I can’t say, but I’ll know.” When he had dealt with the man who stole his mother’s savings and robbed her of her home.
“I don’t expect you can be a cowboy, though, with your leg and all.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “More like cook’s helper. But, like you said, the fresh air is good for my lungs.”
He pulled his thoughts back to the present and reminded himself why he had really taken the job. He set his will firmly to watching for the man, even though it required he give up evening pleasures with Madge. Tired of being crippled, tired of being confined indoors so many hours, after supper he slipped into his comfortable trousers and boots and donned his worn cowboy hat. The soddie was at right angles to the house, and he discovered if he ducked out the door and pressed to the wall until he reached the cover of the barn, he couldn’t see the house. He assumed they, likewise, couldn’t see him.
Once a safe distance from the farm, he sucked in cleansing air, glad he didn’t have to slouch and cough, and he stalked across the prairie with long, hungry strides.
He could have taken his auto, and had several times, but the walk loosened his joints, cleansed his brain and renewed his determination to complete his task.
As usual he tried to be invisible as he headed toward the house where that man would be living. He’d begun to wonder if his information was incorrect. But this evening, his waiting and watching seemed about to be rewarded. Someone had been there. Rugs hung over the railing. The porch had been swept. But the place now looked closed. No lights came from any of the windows, though he viewed it from all four sides just to be certain. He must have missed the man. Perhaps he’d gone for supper or to visit someone. Maybe his newest mark.
He lingered for some time, hoping the object of his interest would return, but as dusk descended he temporarily abandoned his task and turned his footsteps toward home. It was too dark to cross the prairie safely, so he followed the road.
The sound of an automobile reached him, and he jumped into the ditch and hunkered in the shadows.
The car neared. It was Madge. She’d been in town all this time? Had she seen him?
He remained in his position until the car putted away. She often delivered laundry in the evenings but never this late.
He straightened and returned to the road. He’d have to be more careful in the future and somehow find out why she’d been in town so late so he could avoid her.
Discovering the reason for Madge’s late outing proved easier than he imagined. The next morning he simply mentioned to Louisa, “Did I see your sister coming in late last night?”
Louisa didn’t answer for a moment, then sighed. “I guess she got another job cleaning a house. I wish she didn’t have to work so hard, but I’m glad she can.”
This must have been the intervention Madge had wanted—a job enabling her to earn enough money to pay the mortgage. “I expect you’re grateful she’ll manage to keep your home safe.”
Louisa lowered her gaze and seemed to consider Mouse, who never left her lap for more than food and time outside. “I’m grateful. Truly, I am.”
“Then why do you sound so doubtful?” Could she resent Madge for managing so well? He frequently compared the two girls in his mind. And Sally, who was so quiet and yet always made sure her sisters and mother were taken care of. Madge, though, was the one to note. She had drive and purpose.
“I’m not doubtful. Not really.”
He remembered he had asked Louisa a question.
“It’s just— I feel guilty that I can’t help.”
“I’m sure she understands.”
“Of course. Though…”
Over the days they had spent studying, Judd had unwittingly learned many of Louisa’s secrets and sensed he was about to learn another.
“Sometimes I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why must I be content to remain indoors doing practically nothing while Madge does the work of two women?”
Judd laughed. “You call memorizing dates, learning Greek and reading copious amounts nothing? It’s hard work in its own way.” Yet he wondered as well if life had been fair in giving Madge so much work, though he supposed he meant God rather than life, and he knew he had no right to question his heavenly Father. Nor did Madge seem to mind. She appeared to thrive on hard work.
“It’s fun.”
“Maybe Madge finds her work fun, too.”
Louisa tipped her head. “Are you saying God has made us uniquely suited to our roles in life?”
“I suppose I am.” Though it hadn’t ente
red his conscious thoughts. But perhaps God had, likewise, equipped him to do for his mother what his brothers hadn’t or wouldn’t. When he’d hinted at his plan to Carson, the man had turned all lawyerlike and insisted if a law had been broken, he would have dealt with it.
Where was the justice in that? But because no law had been broken, Carson said there was nothing they could do.
Judd had other ideas.
As Madge hung laundry the next day, she thought of the previous evening. She hadn’t been able to get the visit with Joanie she’d hoped for. Not with all Joanie’s family hanging about asking questions.
“Who is the young man out at your place?”
“How is your mother?”
“Did you hear the Hendricks up and moved away? I never saw them but heard they had the truck loaded to the gunwales.” This from Joanie’s father, Mr. Sharp. “Not the first to walk away from his land. ’Spect he won’t be the last, either. Times are getting downright tough for everyone.”
“Except the bankers who are snapping up the abandoned land and throwing people out of their houses,” Madge added.
“Yup. But owning worthless houses no one wants isn’t terribly profitable, I’d venture to say.”
Madge remembered Mr. Johnson saying something similar. But it elicited no pity in her heart. “Then why don’t they just let the people stay?”
Mr. Sharp shrugged. “’Spect it goes against their nature. Bankers are a different breed. I thank the good Lord my business is paid for lock, stock and barrel.” Mr. Sharp owned the general store. She knew from her own experience much of the trade was by the barter system. In exchange for necessary supplies, she’d promised part of her butchering when the time came.
Madge noticed the glance Joanie and her mother exchanged. She intended to ask Joanie what they worried about first chance she got.
When she prepared to leave, Joanie pulled her aside. “I’m so glad to see you. It’s been ages. But this was an unsatisfactory visit. Let’s meet somewhere soon.”
Madge agreed. “But I don’t know when we can arrange something. I’m cleaning the Sterling house. I’ll be busy there every evening for a while.”
“Perfect. I’ll come and keep you company.”
The next night, Madge had barely arrived at the Sterling home before Joanie came skipping down the lane. Madge grinned at her friend and handed her a mop and bucket. “I don’t expect you to work, but you can carry this in for me.”
“I don’t mind helping. It’s just so nice to have a chance to visit.” Joanie sounded cheery. Perhaps a bit too much, as if she didn’t want to reveal a worry. But Madge knew her friend. The worry could be real or so small it hardly mattered, but Joanie would soon enough share it and end up laughing before she finished relaying her tale of woe.
Madge had done some basic preparation in the front room—hauled out the carpets ready to beat and crowded the furniture into the hallway. Now she and Joanie started a fire in the stove, heated water and tackled a major scrubbing. They visited as they worked.
“Tell me about Louisa’s tutor. What did you say his name was?”
“Justin Bellamy, he says.”
Joanie giggled. “Do I get the feeling you don’t believe him? Why would a man lie about such a simple thing?”
“Maybe not his name but—” She told Joanie about running into a man earlier in town. “I’m certain it’s the same man, but Justin isn’t anything like him.”
“Oh. A mystery. Maybe he’s a wanted man.” Joanie intended to sound teasing and mysterious.
Madge paused to look out the window. “Wanted? Maybe. But not by the law. I don’t see him as that kind of person.” But she could see him wanted by a woman. Maybe he was hiding from a soured relationship. Why did the thought both sting and cheer her? It really didn’t make any difference, except she needed to know Louisa wasn’t getting into something messy. She’d seen the growing fondness in her sister’s eyes. Mother must be very happy.
Madge should be, too.
But she couldn’t shed her little suspicions about Justin. Nor could she quite dismiss a fledgling jealousy she loathed.
Joanie edged around to plant herself in front of Madge. She grabbed Madge’s chin and stared hard at her.
There was no point in avoiding her gaze. Joanie could be quite persistent, so she tried to look mysterious.
Joanie chortled. “You like this man. I can see it in your eyes.”
Not even to her best friend would she confess such a thing. Any more than she would tell her why Mother had hired Justin. Not simply to tutor Louisa, but for something far more lasting, if Mother’s plans worked out. Madge had no intention of interfering with those plans. “He’s not my sort.”
“Don’t try and pull the wool over my eyes. I’ve known you far too long.”
Madge returned to scrubbing walls and hoped Joanie would do the same or at least drop the subject.
But she didn’t. “I remember our little secrets. I know you want to get married and have a family of your own some day.”
“That was before Father died and the country fell into a depression. Who has time to think about such things now?”
“I do.” At the sad note in Joanie’s voice, Madge forgot scrubbing the walls and turned to her friend.
“Your time will come. Some day.”
“I don’t see how. Seems all the single men have disappeared. Those still around are needed by their families.”
“You mean Connie?”
“His name is Conrad. But he’s not the only one.”
“Joanie, things will work out.”
“How can you be sure? People often have to live with disappointment.” She squeezed the water out of a rag and returned to scrubbing.
Madge did the same, but she wasn’t prepared to leave the subject just yet. “God provides. Like this job for me. I need more money for the mortgage. I prayed. And even though I didn’t trust God wholly, He answered.”
“Here I am worried about not having a boyfriend while you struggle to keep your house. I’m sorry.”
Madge again heard a note of worry. She faced her friend. “What else is bothering you?”
“I guess we’re all in the same boat. Father gets lots of goods for trade, but that doesn’t pay the bills.”
Guilt struck Madge, and she vowed to buy no more than absolutely necessary unless she could pay cash. Right now that meant she’d buy nothing. Every penny she made would go to the banker. “I wish things would turn around soon. In the meantime, what can we do but the best we can?”
“I know, and I don’t mean to complain.”
They worked in silence for a bit.
Madge’s thoughts went to Justin. It was only reasonable he had his own interests to pursue in the evenings, but despite her vow to pretend she didn’t care, she half hoped he’d join her when she went to get the cow. Nor would she object to his company while she cleaned this house. Not that she didn’t appreciate Joanie’s presence.
“Hello? Are you there?”
She realized Joanie stared at her, amusement drawing her eyes upward.
“I was concentrating.”
“Lost in a dream world. Didn’t even hear my question.”
“Sorry. What?”
“He must be quite the charmer.”
“Who?” As if she didn’t know. Her cheeks burned with guilty heat.
“Ho, ho. So if it isn’t Justin, than who?” Joanie ceased work to squint and consider. “Nope. Can’t think of anyone but Justin who might make you get all flustered.”
“I am not flustered.” Madge determinedly asked after mutual friends. When had Joanie seen them, and how were they? From the look on her friend’s face, she knew Joanie understood her intention and played along out of the goodness of her heart.
They finished the room. “It’s a bigger job than I thought it would be,” Madge said as she stretched her back to ease an ache between her shoulders. “I’m not sure when this man—George Gratton—is coming.” Nor how much h
e was paying. Hopefully more than twenty cents a day.
“What do you know about Mr. Gratton?”
“Not a thing, except he’s some distant relative of Mrs. Johnson’s and is unmarried.”
Joanie frowned. “How is it that you get two unmarried men in your life and I get none?”
Madge laughed, not fooled by her friend’s pretend annoyance. “You’ve had eyes for no one but Connie since you were fourteen years old and he fell out of the tree into your lap. I think you secretly branded him right then and there.”
“Conrad. And I did not. Besides, what difference does it make? He has his family to care for.”
“Things will work out.”
Joanie tossed her head. “So you say. Sometimes I think you simply refuse to admit anything you can’t control.”
The words stung. “I do not.”
“Sure you do. How often have you pretended you didn’t want something if you knew you couldn’t have it? Like the time Louisa got the dress fabric you wanted. All of a sudden you didn’t care.”
“That was five years ago. I was still a child. I hope I’ve outgrown being jealous of my sister.”
“Have you?”
She wished she could assure her friend she had. She didn’t like the little resentment burning a hole in her heart that it was Louisa who had Justin by her side all day, his attention focused on her. “He’s not my sort.” As soon as the words were out, she knew she had given away her secret.
But Joanie didn’t laugh or tease. “Things will work out. Didn’t you just say so?”
Madge refused to answer. It was one thing to ask God to help her when she needed something good and noble and right. When it was selfish and involved hurting her sister, she had no right to ask.
Joanie chuckled. “What a pair of worrying old maids we’ve become.” Only her eyes didn’t laugh.
Madge knew why. Could they both end up alone for the rest of their lives? It was a dreadful thought, but a real possibility.
She would not think of Justin Bellamy. Even if he proved to be noble and honest and all the things she admired in a man because, whether he knew it or not, he would belong to Louisa.