Forevermore

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “Jakob,” he corrected her.

  Hope spared him a quick smile. “Jakob, I love your little girl. I think she’s the dearest gal God ever made, and I wouldn’t never do nothin’ to hurt her. You’re a man. You don’t know what it takes to be a woman. Little girls learn plenty in their tender years. If ’n Emmy-Lou learns a heap of things now, she’ll be more productive later.”

  “So this apron—it is a sign to her that she will cook and do handiwork? But that isn’t honest.”

  “Sure it is. No one can do everything. Me? I can’t read, and I still have a good life. I have to depend on others—but I reckon that was God’s plan.”

  “The body of believers . . .” he mused. “That is what you’re talking about.”

  She stared at her hook as she continued to work. Though he’d finally understood, Hope didn’t feel victorious. She swallowed.

  “I’ll be leavin’, but when I do, I wanna have left Emmy-Lou with the stars in her hands, the colors in her mind, and the knowledge that she can still be a happy, worthwhile person.”

  “You’re not leaving!”

  Hope hitched her shoulder.

  “We have an agreement.” His voice came out in a forceful whisper. “You would stay for Annie’s sake. Now, more than ever, she needs you.”

  Relief knotted the hole in her heart just as completely as the crochet thread wound and hooked into place. “I wasn’t shore how you felt. While I was ailin’, them two weeks after Johnny was born came to a close. Fact is, that night I fell sick, I know you was gonna tell me ’twas time for me to head out.”

  He gave her an odd look. “In a manner of speaking, perhaps.”

  Her heart plummeted. Jakob doesn’t want me. The air burned in her lungs. I said I wasn’t shore how he felt, and he told me. I’m good for Annie. That’s all. I’d hoped . . . well, dunno what I expected.

  I’m bein’ silly after bein’ under the weather.

  “But you’ll stay.” He phrased it as a statement, not a question.

  Looking down at her crocheting, Hope bit her lip and nodded. “Like you said, we have a pact to help your sis. Long as you feel that me stayin’ here protects her from that snake, I’ll stay on.”

  Relief resounded in the gush of his exhalation.

  In everything give thanks. I gotta stop thinkin’ on myself and see all the good that the Lord’s doin’. Hope looked at her boss. He loved his kin with a fierceness and gentleness that touched her. Annie and Emmy-Lou would be okay with him as the head of the home.

  “You’re needed here, Hope. You’re wanted and appreciated, too. I don’t know how you think we’ll get along without you.”

  “Don’t go countin’ your eggs before you lay ’em.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounded silly. Roosters don’t lay eggs. Well, don’t go a-borrowin’ troubles.”

  “I’ve got enough as it is. We have five more days before Konrad returns.” Jakob shot a look over his shoulder at the house, then scooted his chair a little closer. His voice dropped to a bare murmur. “Tim Creighton has a friend who’s an attorney.

  He’s written up a contract I’m going to offer Konrad. I’ll sell the farm up north and give him all the money as long as he agrees to leave the country and never contact Annie again.”

  Taking her cue, she whispered back, “But what’s to keep him from takin’ the money and going back on his word?” The ball of crochet string started to roll off her lap. She grabbed for it and looked back at Jakob. “I’d sooner trust a rabid coyote.”

  “He’s worse.” Still keeping his voice muted, Jakob said, “Often, Konrad has said he wishes he’d stayed in Germany. The money would be enough for him to return there. There is a place called Ellis Island in New York. Very soon, all immigrants will have to come through there. You didn’t see Konrad for long, so you might not have noticed, but he’s missing fingers.” Jakob held up his left hand and wrapped his right fingers around the last two left fingers.

  Dreadful as she’d felt, Hope hadn’t noticed very much when Konrad had been there. “I don’t recollect seeing his hand.”

  “He’s ashamed of it and moves carefully so people won’t notice. Even so, the fingers are missing. It never made any difference to me, but now I’m glad those fingers are gone.”

  Hope looked at him in surprise. “It’s not like you to be that way.”

  Jakob met her gaze without any hesitation. “There are new laws. Anyone with a deformity that might render them less capable of working so they could become a public liability won’t be permitted entry to America. Even if Konrad decides to come back, when they’d process him at Ellis Island, they will notice his hand. He could claim he can work well, but there are many places where thieves’ fingers or hands are cut off. The immigration law denies entry to anyone suspected of moral turpitude. Either way, he would be sent back to Germany.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Annie doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell you first. You give her such comfort and confidence, Hope. When I tell her, I want you there so you can reassure her.”

  “It’s powerful nice of you to say that, but I know what Annie’s gonna ask. What if Konrad won’t sign the contract?”

  “He’s greedy. He will.”

  Setting aside her crocheting, Hope leaned toward him. “Mr. Stauffer . . .”

  He leaned in, too. “How many times must I tell you to call me Jakob, Hope?”

  She couldn’t keep a smile from gracing her lips before becoming solemn once more. “Jakob, I seen the way he looked at your sis. That man ain’t gonna be reasonable. He’d double cross the devil if ’n he could. Annie’s feelin’s already jump up and down like a cricket. I don’t mean to tell you your business . . . Well, maybe I do. But I don’t think y’all ought to tell Annie nothin’ ’til it’s a done deal and that polecat’s halfway ’cross the ocean.”

  Studying her intently, Jakob said nothing. He compressed his lips for a moment, then nodded. “Ja. I think you’re right. You’ve done so much for my sister, Hope. I’m grateful. She needed you. We all did and still do.”

  Since the secretive discussion was over, Hope decided to revert back to normal volume—that way Annie wouldn’t suspect anything. “It’s gone both ways. It’s been a pure pleasure workin’ for you, and all y’all spoilt me rotten when I took sick.”

  “We worried about you.”

  “I ’member you prayin’ over me.” More than once, dreadful as she’d felt, Hope recalled opening her eyes and seeing Jakob kneeling by her cot. Never before had a man quietly, persistently petitioned heaven on her behalf. Knowing he’d done so touched her deeply. Maybe that’s why I got me these warm feelin’s about him.

  “Ja, we prayed. Annie and I decided if your fever didn’t break soon, we’d cut your hair in hopes of conserving what little life force you had left so you might recover.” His gaze raised ever so slightly; then, with just a fingertip, he touched a wisp of hair at her temple. The tenderness of his action made her long to tilt her head and rest into the warmth and strength of his callused palm. Not knowing the flood of feelings his simple, kind gesture triggered, Jakob continued speaking. “I’m glad we didn’t have to resort to using Annie’s sewing shears. Anything to spare your life would have been worth it, but cutting your hair would be such a shame. Your hair is your crowning glory.”

  Unsure of how to respond, Hope picked up her crochet hook again. His words pleased her immensely. She’d never really much cared what men thought of her looks. As long as she was clean and modest, that was good enough—but hearing Jakob praise her hair, well, it sent warmth streaking through her heart.

  I’ve gotta get aholt of myself. I’m gonna end up being just like Linette Richardson if ’n I don’t watch out. Ain’t fittin’ for a woman to go all moon-eyed over a man just because he treats her well. She cleared her throat. “Emmy-Lou’s hair’s got quite a bit of curl to it. Was it like that afore her fever when you cut it?”

  It took a full minute or more before
Jakob answered, “No. It was straight.”

  I was rude not to thank him for the compliment, but I don’t want him thinkin’ I’m setting my cap to reel him in. Onliest thing I’m hookin’ is this here apron for his little girl. “Y’all did take fine care of me. Velma came over this mornin’ with the sad news of Mr. Vaughn. Such a pity. God must have wanted him awful bad to take him away from a wife and that passel of kids.”

  “You probably got the fever from him that day you went to town with the eggs and milk. I shouldn’t have asked you to pick up chicken feed.”

  “Nonsense.” Hope curled the crochet string around her pinkie. “Plenty of folks have bought feed from his store and not taken sick.”

  Jakob was silent for a moment. “Knowing he didn’t make it makes me even more thankful God spared you.”

  Hooking the ecru-colored crochet string in and out, in and out was calming. “I reckon God ain’t done sendin’ me where folks need a helpin’ hand.”

  “He sent you here.”

  “That He did.” I just don’t know when you’ll be finished with me and sendin’ me on my way. The thought of eventually leaving dragged at her, so Hope decided to change the topic. “Do y’all think your sis might have five or six little tiny buttons I can put on the back of this?”

  “Naomi had a button jar.”

  Hope glanced over at him. He usually didn’t mention his wife. Then again, in the past few weeks, she’d sensed a big shift in him. Grief no longer gave a haunted look to his eyes. Striving to sound casual, she said, “Whenever you got a moment and think on it, I’d appreciate you settin’ that jar out. We could use some of the bigger ones to help Emmy-Lou with her countin’.”

  Jakob chuckled. “Yes, well, I was impressed when she hit twenty-nine, but twenty-ten?”

  Hope smiled. “She’s such a dear heart.”

  An unexpected voice quietly intersected their conversation.

  “Jake . . .”

  Hope looked up. “Who calls you Jake?”

  “Nobody.” He stood and peered into the dim barnyard. A mere breath later, he vaulted over the porch rail and ran.

  Twenty-Seven

  Hope’s work dropped to the planks as she dashed after him. “What is it?”

  “Phineas.” Jakob zigged around the sycamore and to the corner of the barn. By the time Hope reached his side, Jakob had stooped and wrapped Phineas’s arm around his shoulders and braced an arm about his waist. “He’s hot.”

  Hope moved to Phineas’s other side. “Let’s get him to the house. Once he’s on the settee, you can come out and fetch his mattress. Would you rather put his bed in the parlor or your office?”

  “The office.”

  “Sorry,” Phineas rasped.

  Late the next morning, Jakob nudged Hope aside and lifted the sheets from the rinse water. “You stayed up most of the night. Go take a nap.”

  “Nope. You’re a dab hand at a lotta stuff, but I seen you with sheets that one time.”

  Stubbornly holding on to the sheet, he gave her a withering look that would have made anyone else give in. “Go take a nap, Hope.”

  “I’m so rested up, I probably won’t need to shut my eyes for a whole week.” She reached for the sheet. “May as well warn you, Jakob, I’m every bit as stubborn as Hattie.”

  “Her hat is nicer.” Jakob couldn’t believe he’d blurted out that insult. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry you spoke your mind, or are you sorry you like Hattie’s hat better?”

  Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut? I’ve hurt her feelings. “Both.”

  “Seems we got the same taste in hats, then. I like hers better, too. Problem is, I’d have the longest ears and most fattest head in the world if ’n her hat fit me. Now gimme that sheet.”

  “We’ll wring it out and hang it up together.”

  “Many hands make the work right, huh?”

  Light. Many hands make the work . . . well, “right” fits the meaning, too. Jakob nodded. “Speaking of hands . . . Phineas isn’t going to be in good shape if Konrad comes back even one day early. If I’m not by the house when the sheriff drops off the food, be sure to tell him Phineas is sick.”

  “Okay.” Together they wrung out the rinsed sheet and hung it on the line. As she clipped the last clothespin in place, Hope heaved a sigh. “Jakob, I got me a heavy heart today.”

  “You do? Why?” He didn’t know anyone as buoyant as Hope—but it was good that she felt she could share her burden with him. Even after he’d insulted her one and only hat, she didn’t hold it against him.

  “Phineas—he’s such a good man. And your sister. ’Til last night, I suspected Phineas held a special place in his heart for her. He ain’t never said nor done nothin’ improper, but I had my suspicions. Last night and today, Annie’s hovered over him, and the truth hit me. If ’n she wasn’t bound in marriage to that worm Konrad, I think her heart would flop straight into Phineas’s hands.”

  “It’s not fitting. She’s married. Even when Konrad is gone, they are still married.”

  Hope sighed again. “I know. That’s why my heart’s heavy. I wisht God woulda done things different. In my head, I know His plan is right; in my heart I wanna jump in and fix things.”

  “Some things can’t be fixed. The best we can pray for is that Konrad will go away and never trouble her again. For her and Johnny to be safe—that’s the most important thing.”

  Though he spoke the right words, Jakob’s spirits sank. Annie returned Phineas’s affection? How had that happened? When? Sure, they’d been schoolyard friends. But that didn’t translate into love. For Naomi and me, it did. He shoved aside that thought. Then it hit him: The day he’d told Annie that Linette Richardson had designs on Phineas, Annie fell to pieces. Lord, I’m like Hope. I want to fix it, but I can’t. You work miracles. Can’t you do this for my sister and my friend?

  Plenty of chores needed doing. With Phineas ailing, Hope jumped right in and picked up the slack. By sunset, Jakob carried the evening milking to the springhouse and poured it into the De Laval separator. “Jakob, I’ll crank that if ’n you’ll see to gettin’ a scuttle or two of coal into the house. I’m needin’ more for the stove.”

  “I’ll pour in the other milk can first.” After he left her, Jakob filled the scuttle.

  Annie had moved the rocking chair from the parlor to just outside the office door. From the shawl over her shoulder, he knew she was nursing Johnny. Sitting on a little stool beside her, Emmy-Lou had a dish towel over her shoulder and her dolly clutched to her chest. “Daddy, me and Auntie Annie are being mommies together.”

  The sight stopped him in his tracks. Emmy-Lou was copying what she saw all about her—women being wives and mothers. But how would she ever marry and have children if she couldn’t see? Even with her strength and eyesight, it had taken all of Hope’s stamina to keep up with him that day. No matter how much training Hope gave her, Emmy-Lou wouldn’t be able to marry. No man would have her. Each time the thought hit him, his heart clenched.

  Annie filled in the silence. “It’s fun to play, isn’t it?”

  Emmy-Lou’s curls danced as she nodded. “Uh-huh!”

  “How’s Phineas?”

  Annie leaned a bit to the side and craned to look into the study. “Sleeping. He’s been good about drinking for me, so his fever hasn’t gotten too bad.”

  “Daddy, Phineas isn’t getting all speckly like Miss Hope did.”

  “That’s good.”

  Confusion scrunched Emmy-Lou’s face. “But you told Hope you liked her spots. Why don’t you want Phineas to grow them, too?”

  “Hope,” he said, knowing his comment would reveal his true feelings to his sister, “Hope is special.”

  “So is Phineas.” As soon as the words left Annie’s mouth, she went ruddy.

  Ignore it. We will all ignore their feelings; it’s the only way to handle this. She didn’t catch on to my declaration about Hope. Well, better off she didn’t. It’s not right to flaunt my
love when she’ll be denied hers. “Ja, Phineas is special in a different way. We are all special to Jesus.”

  A smile transformed his daughter’s face. “So I’m special, too!”

  “Absolutely!”

  Annie slid Johnny from beneath her shawl.

  “Here. I’ll take him.” Jakob held his nephew and patted his tiny back. A moment later, Jakob chuckled. “Such a little man, burping already! He’s heavier, too, Annie.”

  “If I don’t put supper on the table, he’ll be the only one who’s full.” She rose.

  “I thought we all agreed this morning it was too hot and there were too many other matters to attend to. You weren’t to cook.”

  “I haven’t. Cold leftover ham and farm cheese. Bread and—”

  “Watermelon pickles,” Hope added as she came inside. She carried a crock. “We can use the powdered broth and heat it over a kerosene lamp so Phineas has something to fill him and build his strength.”

  Annie immediately volunteered. “I’ll see to that.”

  Jakob opened his mouth to naysay her, but Hope exclaimed, “Dandy! When you’re done heatin’ it up, I’ll get it into him.” Hope breezed over to the sink, but Jakob caught the quick glance she gave him over her shoulder. They’d made a pact to protect Annie from her husband; now they’d work together to protect her from herself.

  After washing the supper dishes, Hope took the rocker by the study and crocheted. “Annie, you’ve been cooped up all day. What say you leave me here with Johnny whilst you, Emmy-Lou, and Jakob go catch yourselves some lightnin’ bugs?”

  “Can we?” Emmy-Lou jigged as she tugged on her aunt’s hand.

  “I . . .”

  “You bet we will.” Jakob swept Emmy-Lou up onto his shoulders. “Annie, fetch a jar, and we’ll meet you beneath the sycamore.”

  Catching fireflies without Hope wasn’t even half the fun. The thought went through Jakob’s mind again as he opened his bedroom window before retiring. Hope brought delight to even the simplest things. She didn’t need to adhere to a schedule to maintain order in the home. Her flexibility allowed spur-of-the moment changes that resolved a plethora of difficult situations.