Forevermore

by Cathy Marie Hake

“Yes, there are three.” Hope paused a moment, then asked again, “How many stars do you see now?”

  “One, two, three. Three.”

  “Them new eyeglasses of yours are helping you so much.

  Now tell me. Are they the same stars you counted a minute ago?”

  Jakob leaned closer and held his breath. What odd game was Hope playing with his little girl?

  “No. These are different stars. The other ones were on red and green. These are on blue.”

  “You’re such a clever little girl! Just ’cuz you can’t see them first stars, does that mean they ain’t there on the red and green pieces?”

  Giggles spilled out of Emmy-Lou. The sound warmed Jakob’s heart, but so did her answer. “They are still on the blanket.

  They’re on the other side, that’s all.”

  “You’re right. Just ’cuz we don’t see something, that don’t mean it isn’t there. Now lookee here. I’m fixin’ to open up my quilt real big. You can find lots of stars on it, and we’ll count ’em later today.”

  When he went inside, Jakob disciplined himself not to look toward the parlor. He didn’t want to notice the quilt he’d eavesdropped about. He corrected himself. He didn’t want to see Emmy-Lou struggle to see the stars. Instead he looked at Hope. “Phineas and I are leaving now.”

  “Bound for the Smiths’ farm.” Hope lowered her voice.

  “Yesternoon, whilst Annie was taking a catnap, I carried all the eggs over to the Smiths’ like you told me. Took ’em a few chickens, too.”

  “Very good.” In the middle of everything, Hope remembered that detail and saw to it.

  Hope raised her voice slightly. “Before you and Phineas hie off, I made something for you to eat. It’ll stick to your ribs ’til lunchtime rolls around.” She lifted the overturned mixing bowl on the table to reveal food. “Fried ham ’n egg sandwiches.”

  “Fine. About today. Emmy-Lou—” He cast a quick glance toward the parlor, where Emmy-Lou had one of her stubby fingers over a star on Hope’s quilt. “She should go to Forsaken with her aunt. It would be best.”

  “But, Daddy, the babies go to Forsaken.” Emmy-Lou scrambled over and tugged on his pants leg. “I’m a big girl.

  Big girls go—”

  “Where their father tells them to.” The lenses of her glasses magnified the tears filling Emmy-Lou’s eyes. He couldn’t give in. He had to keep her safe. Things would change now. She was different and had to be protected. Resilience. Children have resilience. She’ll learn to get used to things being different.

  Hope hunkered down—not a feminine pose in the least, but she balanced easily on her scuffed boots and tapped Emmy-Lou’s shoulder. “That daddy of yours is doin’ you a mighty big favor. Why, he’s lettin’ you go with your auntie. This way, you’ll know all about what’s gotta be done for a baby. You and me are gonna share the job of helpin’ your auntie when the time comes for her to have hers.”

  “Yeah! I’m gonna be a big helper.”

  “You shore are.” Hope stood up. “But for now, we need to let your daddy get goin’. Him and Phineas are gonna go do a bunch of man work.”

  As he headed toward his neighbor’s farm, Jakob kept thinking of how Hope smoothed things over for Emmy-Lou. She’d twisted Emmy-Lou’s disappointment into delight. But Hope wouldn’t always be there to distract Emmy-Lou. The time would come—and soon—when they’d watch Hope leave.

  He wouldn’t be able to shield his daughter from the sadness to come. Today was just the first of countless times and things she would have to give up.

  Why, God? Why?

  Men milled about the Smith barnyard, eating hard-boiled eggs and coffee cake. The good-natured conversation came to an abrupt halt when Jakob rode in. Daisy grabbed her husband’s hand, and Gramma called out, “Phineas asked us to pray for Emmy-Lou at church yesterday. How is she?”

  Myriad answers shot through his mind. Jakob hadn’t yet thought about what to tell others. Emmy-Lou would need their help at times. He couldn’t let his pride stand in the way of that.

  But the doctor warned about the crippling effects of pity. Jakob cleared his throat. “There’s a problem with her eyes. I bought her glasses, but my Emmy-Lou—she still cannot see as well as we do.”

  Mr. Toomel tapped the arm of his own spectacles. “If it weren’t for these, I’d be blind as a bat.”

  The chuckles lashed Jakob. “Blindness is not funny.” His voice shook with anger.

  Gramma broke the uneasy silence. “Jakob, is Emmy-Lou going blind?”

  “The doctor couldn’t say.”

  “We’ll all keep an eye on your little girl today”—compassion filled Daisy’s voice—“and always.”

  “I’m obliged, but Emmy-Lou is going to Forsaken with her aunt. It is best that way.”

  As the day started out, and again at lunch, Smith prayed. He mentioned Emmy-Lou in his prayers. As lunch ended and the men headed back to the wheat field, a gaggle of little girls dashed up. Flipping a braid over her shoulder, Lottie Richardson said, “Will you bring Emmy-Lou to play with us tomorrow at my house?”

  Before he could answer, Gramma sauntered by with an empty cake plate. “Of course he will. You girls let Mr. Stauffer get back to work and come help me. I baked a little cake special just for you, so you can all have a tea party.”

  Jakob watched them all skip away. Gramma overstepped herself by determining where Emmy-Lou would go tomorrow.

  Emmy-Lou needed to be watched carefully. But Jakob couldn’t help but ask himself, Then why am I upset that Emmy-Lou isn’t here to enjoy the tea party?

  Chattering like a magpie, Emmy-Lou wiggled into her chair at the supper table. “Babies cry lots and lots. Mrs. Sanderson’s little girl crawls really fast. I chased her today, Daddy. I did. I caught her before she went up the stairs, didn’t I, Auntie?”

  “Ja. It was a good thing you did.”

  “I take it things went well?” Jakob looked at his sister but tilted his head toward Emmy-Lou.

  “Ja.” Annie slid her napkin in her lap as if the question and answer were nothing more than mere polite conversation.

  Frustrated, Jakob didn’t feel like praying. “Phineas, ask the blessing.”

  As Annie passed the platter with the bierocks to him, Phineas told her, “Marcella made her prune cake today again, and I hope she does every day. Volkner used to take a big wedge of your peach pie, but now he’s eating Marcella’s cake and leaving more for me.”

  “Does she remember his name is Leopold now instead of Peter?” Annie took a meager spoonful of peas.

  “Merciful heavens, yes.” Hope served Emmy-Lou, then herself before passing the platter to Jakob. “Everything she says starts with ‘Leopold.’ If it weren’t so much fun to see them courtin’, it might grate on a body’s nerves. Can’t hold it against her, though. The gal’s pert near aglow with love.”

  “She’d better get her fill of him now.” Jakob cut into the meat-filled cabbage leaves. “Tomorrow and Wednesday, we’ll harvest her father’s wheat, then Leopold will have to move on.

  His family needs the money.”

  “Betcha he stays with the Richardsons as long as folks in this township are harvestin’.” Hope moved Emmy-Lou’s cup.

  Jakob stared at the cup. How many times had Hope moved it? Almost every single meal since she’d come. And before then, if no one else was fast enough to catch it, she spilled her milk.

  I was such an idiot not to determine she couldn’t see.

  Phineas raised his fork but stopped short of taking the bite. “Patterson was wondering if Richardson’s so-called nephews will stay awhile longer, or if we’ll be back down to two reapers when we go on to his spread.”

  “Lena asked while us gals were eatin’ lunch. One of the boys’ll go back to his pa’s farm, and the other one’s gonna finish up this township. I’m a-feared that poor Linette’s gonna get her heart broke. She was hoping the one who ain’t spoken for Kathleen would ask for her. I spied him smilin’ at one of the ot
her gals, though.”

  “Life doesn’t always give you what you want.”

  Ignoring the surly edge in his tone and Annie’s gasp, Hope said, “Well, I’m wantin’ a dash of salt. Do y’all think I can get that?”

  Embarrassed by his outburst, Jakob reached for the saltshaker.

  “Here.”

  As Hope sprinkled salt on her rice, she changed the subject.

  “Annie did some sewin’ today on Sydney Creighton’s newfangled sewing machine. It bottles the mind to think anyone can get that much stitchin’ done in such short order.”

  “Boggles, not bottles.” As soon as he said that, Jakob regretted correcting Hope. I oughtta keep my mouth shut.

  “When you bottle somethin’, you seal it up tight so nothin’ more can get in. What happens when you boggle something?”

  “Ja, Daddy. What happens?”

  It would be rude not to answer—even if he’d just decided to stay silent. “Boggle is another word for confuse or jumble something up.” Messing up sayings isn’t just a quirk Hope has. If Emmy-Lou can’t read, she’ll probably mess up on sayings.

  “Boggle. Shore sounds close to gobble. Only I wouldn’t want anythin’ to gobble my mind, so I reckon I’ll ’member me the difference. Emmy-Lou, lemme show you a trick.” Hope covered Emmy-Lou’s hand and pressed the fork down on the rice. “This’ll make the rice stick together better. Now use your bread like a wall so’s the fork will scoop up the rice and make it to your mouth. There.”

  “I did it!”

  “Yup.”

  Emmy-Lou finished that bite and started pressing down the rest of her rice. “Phineas, I’m learning to count up-up-up high.

  Hope’s special quilt has lotsa stars. Me and her and Auntie Annie didn’t unfold all of it yet, so I don’t know how many more there are. I found eighteen so far.”

  “Eighteen.” Phineas nodded gravely.

  “God made lotsa stars in the sky. We can’t see all of them, either. I counted the blankets for Aunt Annie’s baby. She gots seven now, only she won’t use all of them on the baby at the same time.”

  “Then she’ll have plenty, won’t she, Jakob? Naomi made a mountain of clothes for the babies. They have to be around here somewhere.”

  “No.” Jakob glared straight through his farmhand. “None of them remain.” In his grief, he’d gotten rid of all of Naomi’s clothing and all of the baby gowns and blankets. Having them there mocked him, drove home the fact that he’d never again have his beloved wife by his side, his namesake, or any more children. He shoved away from his half-eaten supper. “I have chores to see to.”

  Hope drove to town on Wednesday to deliver the eggs and milk to the general store. With that chore accomplished, she turned Hattie down the road toward the Richardson farm. Emmy-Lou sprawled on the mule cart seat beside Hope. “I see a birdie.”

  “It’s a hawk. If ’n you listen, you’ll find every bird talks different from all the other kinds. Hear that purdy song? That’s a lark. That hawk’s up in the sky a-screamin’ so’s he can scare a little mouse into running. Then he’ll swoop on down and catch that mouse for his supper.”

  Hope stopped the cart at Forsaken Ranch just long enough to hand off some fabric to Annie. “Your brother asked me to get this for you to make baby clothes. Don’t forget that I’ll help you stitch ’em.”

  As she helped serve lunch at the Richardsons’, Hope murmured to Jakob, “I got that cloth you wanted for your sis. Whilst I was in town, the mercantile man gave me this letter what come for you.”

  Jakob accepted the envelope, took one glance at it, and shoved it in his pocket. “Fine.”

  He looked anything but fine. Hope didn’t ask him why, though. He’d been in a foul mood ever since Sunday. The past few days, he’d grunted and growled instead of talked. It was a good thing they were in the middle of harvest, just so Annie wouldn’t have to be around him. As it was, she’d suddenly reverted to being timid—at least when her brother was around.

  Well, no use letting his dark mood spoil the day. Hope picked up an empty bowl and headed back toward the Richardson kitchen.

  Linette practically pounced on her when she entered the house. Dragging her toward the pantry, Linette squeaked, “We have to talk!”

  “What’s a-wrong with us talkin’ in the kitchen?”

  Cheeks flushed, Linette shook her head. “Papa asked if Phineas can stay over tonight. He’s good with machinery, and one of the reapers needs some sort of work!”

  “He’s good with that sorta stuff.”

  “I saw Phineas watching me today. Maybe he’s the one.” Linette pressed her hands to her bosom. “You have to tell me all about him!”

  “I don’t wanna hurt your feelings none, but I gotta be dead honest with you. Phineas might be the one what fixes the reaper, but he ain’t a man set on romance. More likely, he was hungry and lookin’ at whatever you was totin’ out for lunch. That man shorely does like to eat.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s all the better! I’m a good cook. I don’t want to sound haughty, but truly, I know my way around a kitchen. We’ll make such a good couple!”

  Hope sighed.

  “Mama says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and she’s right—look at Marcella and Leo. What’s Phineas’s favorite dish? I’ll fix it for him!”

  The pantry door whispered open.

  Hope wheeled around, ready to escape from the awkward situation. Instead, Mrs. Richardson pressed in and leaned on the door to shut it. “Linette? Did you ask her?”

  “She was just going to tell me, Mama.”

  “Mrs. Richardson, ma’am, I was just tellin’ your daughter here that Phineas is a man what knows his own mind.”

  A giddy laugh bubbled out of Mrs. Richardson.

  This ain’t goin’ none too good.

  “We’ll make sure Linette gives him exactly what he likes. So if he were a dying man, what would he want for his last meal?”

  He might wish he was dead if ’n Linette chases after him. Hope tamped down that uncharitable thought. “If ’n he was passin’ on, eatin’ probably wouldn’t be much on his mind. You gotta ’scuse me, but—”

  “Oh, just a minute.” Linette grabbed her arm. “What does he like?”

  “Whatever you was a-totin’s probably a safe guess.”

  “Peach pie.” Linette’s hold on her arm tightened. “It was peach pie. Can I come home with you and pick some peaches?

  Then I can bake Phineas—”

  Hope let out a desperate laugh. “Bein’ out in the sun all day, I reckon all them men feel baked clear through.”

  “Then nothing would be more refreshing . . .” Mrs. Richardson started.

  “Than fresh peach pie!” Linette said exultantly.

  “I need to get outta here. Gotta keep an eye on Emmy-Lou.”

  The words had no more left her mouth than a child started crying.

  “That’s my girl!” Desperate to get to Emmy-Lou, Hope wrestled out of the pantry and into the kitchen. Marcella was coming up the back steps, holding Emmy-Lou in her arms.

  “What happened?”

  “Miss Hope!” Emmy-Lou pushed away from Marcella, clung to Hope, and wailed.

  “It’s her knee,” Marcella said in a stricken tone. “I let Lottie and Mandy hold her hands, so I thought it would be okay if she jumped rope.”

  “Merciful heavens.”

  “There were only jumping ‘Blue Bells.’ ” Marcella’s explanation sounded more like a plea for absolution.

  Hope didn’t bother to reassure her at the moment. Right now, Emmy-Lou needed help. Hope twisted toward the sink, only to recall the Richardsons didn’t have a kitchen pump. They carried water in from the yard pump. She plopped down in a chair, cuddled Emmy-Lou, and ordered, “Somebody, get me a stack of nice, clean cloths and a bucket of water.”

  Emmy-Lou nestled close and clung to her. “Owwwweeee!”

  “Lemme have a look-see.” She flipped up the hem of Emmy-Lou’s dress an
d forced a laugh. “Goodness, Emmy-Lou, you got enough dirt on you to plant a whole row of ’tatoes.”

  “Owwwiieee!”

  “Owww. Owww. Ooowwooo!” Hope repeated the sounds again. Looking at her with huge eyes, Emmy-Lou gasped and panted.

  “Wait a second here.” Hope pretended to be scandalized.

  “Y’all start howlin’ like a coyote, and when I join in, you quiet down?”

  “Emmy-Lou wasn’t being a coyote; she sounded more like a wolf to me.” Linda brought over a bucket of water.

  “Onliest wolf I ever heard makin’ that kind of racket done it ’cuz a skunk sprayed him.” Hope accepted a clean cloth from someone and dipped it in the water. Emmy-Lou shuddered in her arms. “Lookee here, Emmy-Lou. Now that we got all the dirt off, it ain’t hardly nothin’. You got scared is all, didn’t you?”

  Emmy-Lou bit her lip and doubled over to look.

  “My knee is like yours.” Mandy hiked up her skirt to display a scab and tacked on, “Mine is bigger.”

  While Hope dabbed witch hazel on the scrape, she listened to Emmy-Lou and Mandy assure Lottie that when she scraped her knee, she’d get to howl like a wolf too. An hour later, as they took their leave, Emmy-Lou hugged Lottie and again promised her someday she’d have a chance to howl. Hope smothered her smile and lifted Emmy-Lou into the mule cart.

  She’d only been back on the Stauffer farm long enough to tuck Emmy-Lou in for a nap when Annie got home. “You oughtta go take a nap yourself, Annie.”

  “Actually, I’d like to work outside for a while. I spent most of my time at Forsaken, rocking babies. If I don’t move around a bit, I won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.”

  Hope steadied herself with a deep breath and confessed, “I oughtta tell you, your niece skinned her knee today.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Other than a spot about yea big”—Hope pinched her forefinger to her thumb to form a dime-sized space—“on her little knee, she’s fine. I feel bad about it.”

  “I would too.” A timid smile flickered across Annie’s face.

  “But I’m glad she got to go play with her friends today. She doesn’t have many chances to be with them.”

  “They all dote on her.”