Forevermore

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Forevermore Page 19

by Cathy Marie Hake


  Emmy-Lou took a longer-than-usual afternoon nap while Annie picked pole beans and Hope weeded. Annie paused a moment and straightened up.

  “You okay?” Hope stared at her large belly. Velma said the baby could come anytime, but Hope thought it would be nice for the child to wait another week or two, though she figured Annie was hot and tired and wishin’ that babe would just come.

  “I am . . .” Annie’s voice died out. Her hand went up to shade her eyes. “Why is my brother home so early?”

  Hope rose and turned to see Jakob dismount.

  He normally had a powerful, long stride—but the barnyard dirt kicked up in small puffs around his boots as he stormed toward them. Yanking off his straw work hat, he revealed a clenched jaw and flashing eyes. His jaw unhinged just long enough for him to bark, “Hope!”

  “Yes?”

  “Where’s my Emmy-Lou?”

  “Takin’ her nap.” Hope dusted off her hands.

  “She gets hurt so much that her friend tells me she howled like a wolf, and you don’t get me? You don’t even tell me?” He stopped glowering at her just long enough to cast a fleeting look at the upstairs bedroom window, then locked his focus on her again. “You were supposed to keep her safe.”

  “She got a scraped knee—”

  “And whose fault is that? You were to watch her.”

  Hope tore her attention from him just long enough to take in how white Annie had gone. She fixed her gaze back on her boss and narrowed her eyes, then flashed a sideways glance at his sister.

  He didn’t respond to her cue but kept right on. “Emmy-Lou and Annie—you are to watch them and do the cooking. If it is too much, say so and leave.”

  Annie gasped.

  “Don’t you worry none, Annie.” Hope pinched the inside elbow of her own sleeves and savagely yanked them to pull the cuffs higher. “Onliest place I aim to go is to the pump to wash my hands afore I take the linens off the line. Think you could go punch down the bread dough? I’d shorely appreciate it.”

  Hope didn’t wait for an answer. She walked off.

  A moment later, her hands dripping dry as she headed for the clothesline, she heard Mr. Stauffer’s distinctive step. Instead of pivoting toward him, she veered to the far side of the clothesline.

  What is it about that man? Well, whatever it is, I won’t have to figure it out. He’s gettin’ rid of me.

  All too soon, he came around the sheets to stand mere feet away.

  Plucking a clothespin from the first pillowcase, she hissed, “You go on and vent your spleen, but don’t you go bellowin’ at me. Your sis don’t need that.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  Hope cocked a brow.

  “You gave your word to watch my daughter.” Fury vibrated in his words.

  “All children get scrapes. I—”

  “All normal children. Emmy-Lou—she can’t see.”

  He’d already said she was leaving, so she might as well speak her piece. Hope yanked the pillowcase from the line. “She can see. Not as good as other kids, but Emmy-Lou can still see.

  You’re the one who was moanin’ over how she can’t see and do all the things everybody else did. Best thing for her is to let her do as much as she can.” Hope stared at him, meeting his heated gaze with resolve. “She was playin’ with her friends and havin’ a good time. You can’t take that from her.”

  “She—”

  “Got a scraped knee, nothin’ more. When she wakes up, you can check her out for yourself. It ain’t even a big scrape. ’Tis hardly anything at all.” Three savage folds, and the pillowcase lay in the wicker basket at her feet. Hope reached for the next one.

  “The day I got here, I told you I didn’t stay when the man of the house wanted different. That ain’t changed. I reckon I spouted off too quick tellin’ Annie that I wasn’t goin’ anywhere.”

  “So just like that, you’ll leave?”

  Thickheaded man! Hope didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself to answer. She grabbed one end of a sheet and lifted it over itself. By walking along the line, she managed to fold it in half before pulling it free.

  “You made a pact. That was your word—a pact. To take care of Emmy-Lou and Annie. You would break your word?”

  “I’m not breakin’ my word, and I don’t like you callin’ me a liar.” She turned to the side so the breeze would stop working against her. Though sorely tempted to turn a little more so she’d give him her back, Hope resisted the urge. He had a lot of nerve trying to toss her promises back at her when he was shoving her out the door.

  “If you leave, you’ve broken your word.”

  “Our pact was to work together, Mr. Stauffer. You’re the one what just told me to leave, and I will. But afore I do, I’m fixin’ to finish up with this here laundry and make shore supper’s ready to be put on the table. Just in case you didn’t notice, Annie’s more tireder than a wound-down clock.”

  He made an odd sound.

  Hope didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. She’d worked hard for him and his kin. Even with him getting grouchy, he didn’t have grounds to accuse her of having slacked or been a sluggard—but he had. That was bad enough. But his implying that she’d neglected Emmy-Lou and Annie—that hurt worse.

  Her work-chapped hands snagged on the delicately tatted edge of the next pillowcase. Of all things, the embroidery on it depicted a dove carrying an olive branch—the symbol for peace. Now, there’s a joke.

  Mr. Stauffer heaved a deep tested-to-the-limits sigh.

  Hope practically tore the pillowcase off the line. “You ain’t the onliest one round here who’s worried or hot or tired. I’d take it kindly if ’n you’d just keep your distance ’til I tell your sis and Emmy-Lou good-bye.”

  Nineteen

  Grit. The grit embedded at the rim of his jagged nails dug into his palms, making him aware he’d fisted his hands.

  Slowly, Jakob forced his fingers to unfurl. He didn’t budge, though.

  He stared at Hope. Wild wisps of hair spun about her face and neck. Other than her green Sunday-best dress, she owned none other than the ugly brown one she now wore. Faded, limp, and damp, it bespoke a woman who’d labored hard and rested little, if at all. A fair breeze made the sheets puff. She did all this laundry this morning, then took the milk and eggs to town before coming to the Smiths’ to help feed the men. She’s started bread and has supper planned and was weeding.

  Hope shoved the just-folded pillowcase into the basket and jerked the clothespins off the next sun-bleached sheet. Though she didn’t spare him a glance, the set of her jaw made her feelings abundantly clear.

  “I’m mad as a bold wet hen, but the Good Book says to be angry and sin not. Well, if ’n y’all don’t step away, I’m gonna have to, else I’ll have to spend hours on my knees beggin’ God for forgiveness.”

  Jakob turned on his heel and strode away.

  Stopping at the water pump, he unbuttoned his shirt. Particles of wheat filled the air about him as he shook it out. After hastily washing up, he yanked on the shirt and fastened up the buttons as he headed back toward the housekeeper.

  With things as tense as they’d gotten, it didn’t seem right to address her by her given name. “Miss Ladley.”

  Her arms froze in midair. She dipped her head for a moment, sucked in a deep breath, then resolutely went back to her task.

  He reached up and pinched the top of a clothespin. Instead of being smooth, the wood was weathered and brittle. I need to buy new ones. There are so many little things I haven’t noticed. He copied how Hope folded the sheet over itself on the line.

  She made it look easy; his came out lopsided. “About the work you’ve done—”

  “You don’t gotta say nothin’ more. I ain’t never been pushed off a job afore, but you know what they say. There’s a worst time for everything.”

  His hands stilled for a moment. She’d done it again. Distracted him with her zany sayings—but if ever one fit the situation, this was
it. “Miss Ladley, you’re right. There’s a worst time for everything.

  I can’t think of a worse time for you to leave than now.”

  She shook her head. “Timin’ works out purdy good for you.

  I ’magine you can get Katherine and Marcella Richardson over here to help now. With them both bespoken, they’d be the best choice.”

  “I spoke in haste.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  Any other woman would have demurred or cried. Not Hope. Her directness was refreshing. Even so, he didn’t try to make light about her recommending the Richardson girls.

  Hope’s sense of humor was arguably one of her best traits, but this wasn’t a time to test that opinion. Jakob watched as she capably folded, flipped, and disciplined her sheet into a tidy block. He tried the same moves with his sheet and almost dropped it. Seconds later, it ended up a bundled mess against his chest.

  Hope’s well-disciplined sheet went into the basket. She still didn’t look him in the eye but focused on the mess he held and gingerly took it away. Even though he’d shaken out his shirt, it was still dirty—and now the freshly washed sheet bore smudges.

  He winced. “I’m making a mess of everything.”

  “Then that’s two of us.” She flipped that sheet over the line to get it out of the way and went after the next one. “You and me don’t see eye to eye, but Emmy-Lou’s your daughter. You got the responsibility and right to decide what’s best for her.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  “Yup.”

  He reached for another clothespin. The housekeeper gave him a stern look, and he backed away. He’d already made more than enough mistakes.

  “You’ve a right to know what happened. Emmy-Lou’s got herself a skinned-up knee. I reckon you’re right ’bout it bein’ my fault. Linette dragged me in the pantry. She and her mama cornered me there. Mr. Stauffer, I don’t wanna be a gossipmonster, but they was pestering me about Phineas.

  Linette’s got it in her mind that he’s anglin’ for her, and she’s plannin’ to chase him ’til he catches her. Emmy-Lou—she fell and hurt herself whilst them Richardson women was plannin’ Phineas’s last supper as a bachelor.”

  “You were in the pantry.”

  Hope’s head dipped. “If ’n I was bein’ dead-level honest, I’d have to say the guilt’s ridin’ me hard. ’Tis likely why your words bother me so much. If ’n I’d gotten outta there, I woulda known what Emmy-Lou was up to.”

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty; I should. Once they are set on something, the Richardsons are immovable. I gave you no chance to explain.”

  “But I wasn’t doin’ my most importantest job.”

  “Lionel Volkner—Leopold’s brother—wrote in his letter of recommendation that he’d never seen a woman work harder. I agree with him. The industry you’ve shown has been outstanding.” Apologizing didn’t come easy, but Jakob knew he had to. He owed her at least that much. “Anger made me say things I shouldn’t have.”

  “You was angry. I probably deserve that anger, but ’twasn’t anger behind most of what happened. At least, to my mind, it wasn’t. You cherish your daughter and sis. From the time you heard Emmy-Lou got hurt ’til you got home, you must’ve been thinkin’ all sorts of dreadful bad things that could be a-wrong with her. Since I didn’t talk to you ’bout the problem whilst I was still over at the Smiths’, you couldn’t know ’twasn’t nothin’ more than a scrape. But even so, I ain’t proved up to be trustworthy.”

  “That isn’t true.” Jakob shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from doing something stupid. Like putting a hand over her mouth so he could finish his apology instead of her yammering on. Or grabbing her and shaking some sense into her. Only he knew better. He’d never manhandle anyone. If he grabbed her, he’d— In that second, he stared at her in shock. I was ready to take hold and kiss her.

  The realization stunned him. His whole life, there’d only been Naomi. He’d never so much as asked another gal out for a Sunday stroll, but here he was, practically nose to nose with a woman whose spontaneity brought him to the brink of insanity. What’s so insane about me having feelings for her? She’s all I could ever want for in a woman. Mute with wonderment, Jakob drank in the golden fire in her beautiful hazel eyes and the smattering of freckles that he suddenly had the urge to trace, count, and even kiss.

  Her gaze dropped as the corners of her mouth turned downward. “You don’t gotta search so hard to try to find somethin’ to say. More words won’t change what happened.” Leaden steps carried her away from him to one last sheet.

  “Listen to me!” Once he bellowed the words, Jakob stomped toward her.

  Hope spun around. Eyes alight with fire and body tensed like a lioness ready to pounce, she growled, “You hush your tone!

  Annie’s already scared half silly.”

  I was a fool to think for even an instant she wouldn’t protect Emmy-Lou and Annie. This woman has such fire and spirit! She’s been under my roof and by my side at the table for days, yet I never noticed . . .

  “Hold whatever opinion you want about me, but think about your sis.”

  Hope, if you knew what I was thinking . . .

  A slow, deep breath forced his housekeeper’s shoulders up, then they settled back into her usual take-on-the-world posture—not the round, stoop-shouldered stance of a weary woman.

  Just as surely as she’s kept Annie from the burden of too much work, she’s shielded me from knowing how tired she’s become from doing it all.

  “Your sis—it’s bad for her to see folks that can’t get along. In the end, you was right.” Hope turned back toward the laundry.

  “It’s all for the best, me goin’ my way.”

  “What is it about you and me and this clothesline?” In utter frustration, he reached up and yanked on it. “The other time we were out here, you thought I was trying to send you off and I wanted to hire you. Now I want you to stay and you’re—”

  She wheeled around. “Don’t. Don’t go decidin’ to keep me on ’til your sis is back on her feet after havin’ her baby unless you know I’m a-gonna mess up again, because sure as shootin’ I will.”

  A slow smile tugged at his mouth, making his sunburned cheeks sting. “Don’t you agree to stay unless you realize I’m going to mess up again, too.”

  Her eyes widened. The fiery glint in the hazel turned to a humorous sparkle as a smile very slowly bowed her lips and made all her freckles dance. “Oh, we are a pair, aren’t we?”

  “Ja.” In more ways than you know.

  Jakob strode across his bedroom, over to the oak dresser.

  Just before Naomi and the children contracted the fever, he’d splurged on a dress length of fabric at the mercantile. All of Naomi’s gowns had been made of feed sacks, and he’d wanted her to have something extra-special—only he hadn’t had the opportunity to give her the material.

  Jakob knelt, opened the bottom drawer, and reached for the fabric. He’d never seen a plaid like it—the stripes going both directions couldn’t be wider than Emmy-Lou’s smallest finger.

  Women probably had fancy names for the colors—they always seemed to; but the two shades of blue, the green, and the gold crisscrossed together and created a wealth of tiny squares in countless rich shades.

  Hope would look lovely in a dress made from it. The door slid shut, and Jakob rose. Instead of avoiding looking at the wedding-ring quilt on his bed, he laid the material on it and lifted the picture of Naomi he treasured so. “I’ll always love you,” he whispered gruffly. He studied her features and recalled how the serenity he saw etched there came from deep within her.

  The turmoil he felt at having discovered his feelings for Hope ought to intensify now, but they didn’t. Instead, everything shifted into place. God’s Word said it wasn’t good for a man to be alone. Having once known the blessings of a happy marriage, Jakob realized that instead of the memories holding him back, they nudged him forward.

  “You would like her, Naomi. I kn
ow you would.” As he lifted the fabric, he remembered the evening when Hope asked him questions about Naomi and listened as he shared about what a fine wife he’d had.

  Hope won’t ever replace Naomi. No one could. But life has changed. So have I. There’s room in my heart for love again because there’s Hope.

  When he went back downstairs, Jakob found his sister in the parlor. Though she held a needle and a tiny white gown in her lap, she wasn’t sewing. I was a fool. She was starting to feel safe, and I scared her. Jakob knew just what to do. A simple gesture would reassure his sister. He laid the fabric in her lap. “This is for Hope. For a dress.”

  Annie shoved it off her lap onto the floor. “No! I won’t do it. I won’t give it to her!” Then she burst into tears.

  Perplexed, Jakob stared at his sister. “Annie! Was ist los?”

  “What’s the matter? You ask me what’s the matter?” She sucked in a choppy breath. “Do you think I don’t recognize what you’re doing? Konrad did the same thing. He got angry. He’d shout. Oh—I heard you shout at Hope. Only soon, it wasn’t just his voice that he’d raise at me—it was his fist.”

  Her stark words horrified him. Until now, Annie hadn’t been forthcoming about anything other than that Konrad struck her on multiple occasions. Knowing it was too painful for her to talk about and wanting to let her put it all in her past, Jakob hadn’t prodded her to say anything more than she chose to volunteer. In those few sentences, she confirmed what he’d suspected. “Annie,” he groaned.

  Cringing into the back of the settee, Annie stared at him with tear-drenched eyes. “Afterward, Konrad would be sorry. He’d give me a gift. The present was to prove he was sorry—only his sorrow never lasted. I won’t give Hope your present. I don’t want her to stay. I want her to go!”

  Jakob groaned again, pushed aside the material, and took his sister’s hands in his. “I’m not like that. It’s not that way between Hope and me.”

  When he finally managed to allay her fears, Jakob said, “You’re tired.”

  Nodding heavily, Annie wiped her face with her soggy hanky.

 

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