She didn’t reply.
“Louisa, what’s wrong?” It had to be something more than lack of feelings for him. Didn’t it? Besides—a fledgling hope—she hadn’t said she didn’t care for him. Only that she would never marry.
“There is nothing wrong.” Her voice was so tight, he figured the words had to edge out sideways. “Except I’ve decided I like teaching and want to make it a career.”
He tried to shift his thoughts of her to include this bit of information. Yeah, she’d make a good teacher. But a better wife. However, her interests obviously didn’t include marriage and motherhood. He had misinterpreted her kindness for something more than interest in teaching Ellie. He’d deceived himself in believing she had some regard for him. Worse even, he’d opened doors he’d vowed would remain forever locked.
He dropped her at the house, muttered goodbye and drove away. How many times did life have to up and smack him in the face for him to learn his lesson? Three years ago he vowed he would never love again. He should have listened to himself. Instead his pride had been kicked about. His love had been tossed aside as if worthless.
By the time he reached home, he had made up his mind. As soon as the doctor okayed it, he was returning to the ranch. And he would never open his heart again.
Now all he had to do was face Ellie and Auntie May.
The latter was easy. She took one look at his face. “Oh, you poor boy.” She hugged him and patted his back.
He allowed it, but his hands hung at his sides. He couldn’t remember how to lift them. How to hug her back.
He simply did not have the emotional strength to do so. Feared he would break in half if he let himself feel anything.
Explaining to Ellie was much harder.
“She said she didn’t want to marry me.”
“You must have asked her wrong.”
His smile struggled to his lips. “I did the best I know how.”
“Maybe if I ask her?”
“No, Button. She was pretty clear that she doesn’t intend to marry. We have to accept it.”
Ellie went to bed without being asked and turned on her side, refusing a good-night kiss when he went to tuck her in.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d do the same if he could. Turn his back to life, curl up in a ball and refuse to let anyone near him.
But he didn’t have that choice. He loved Ellie and would devote his life to making her happy and keeping her safe.
Chapter Thirteen
“Something is ailing you,” Mother said, worried lines creasing her forehead. “I think it’s time to call the doctor.”
“No, Mother.” Louisa forced firmness into her voice. “I have no need of a doctor. I’m just a little blue at not having my teaching job anymore.”
“If you say so. But you don’t look well. Does she, Sally?”
Sally shook her head. “You really don’t. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” The doctor could offer no cure for how she felt. “I think I’ll go talk to Madge.”
“You do that. But don’t overexert yourself.”
With Mother’s needless warning echoing in her ears, she tromped across the dusty trail to Madge’s place. She wasn’t ill. She was heartbroken and she knew of no cure. By the time she reached the doorway, tears flooded her eyes.
Madge took one look at her and pulled her inside. “Louie, what’s wrong?”
Louisa could only shake her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. Madge opened her arms, and Louisa went gladly into her sister’s embrace. She soaked the shoulder of Madge’s dress before she cried herself out.
Madge led her to a chair and eased her down. “Now tell me what this is about.”
She sniffed. “Emmet asked me to marry him.”
Madge smiled. “That sounds like good news to me.”
“It’s not. I had to say no.”
Madge puffed out her cheeks. “Does he love you?”
“He said he did. And he kissed me.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips. “It was sweet.” She might never have a husband or children, but she had the memory of that kiss and would cherish it to her dying day.
“Then you didn’t have to say no.”
Louisa scowled at Madge. “Why must you insist on ignoring the facts?”
Madge grinned, as if Louisa’s protests were laughable. “You would be surprised at how strong love is. Tell him the truth. Give him a chance to say if he loves you enough to want you despite your barrenness. If he loves you half as much as I think, I doubt it will be a barrier.”
Dare she allow herself this hope? “I don’t know if I could stand it if he withdraws his offer of marriage.” Better to hold on to that dream.
“Would you prefer to live the rest of your life wondering if you missed the chance to be his wife, and a mother to Ellie?”
Louisa tried to convince herself the memory of a kiss, an offer of marriage would be enough. She knew, however, that compared with the reality of true love, they were but paper flowers left too long in the sun and would soon fade and grow brittle. They were dead.
“I’ll have to think and pray about it.”
“I’ll pray for you. We both know God is able to do abundantly more than we ask or think.”
“Thank you for that reminder.” Louisa clung to the words, hung on to hope as she returned home. Rather than go directly to the house, she stopped in the garden to pull weeds and chase away grasshoppers—a losing battle, but one none of them was willing to abandon.
Lord, God, my savior, friend and guide. I need You to show me what to do.
She plucked a grasshopper from a tiny lettuce plant, tossed the insect into a bucket and examined the plant. Damaged but still lots of growth potential. Her mouth watered at the promise of fresh salad in a few weeks. She went down the row, rescuing plant after plant, then started on the row of potatoes. Meager as it was, this garden was so important to their survival. The gardens they’d grown when Father was still alive, before the drought hit and the Depression made life so difficult, had been lush and bountiful. Yet she and the others were grateful for every bit of food they could eke from this land.
She sank to the ground and stared at the tiny plants as something scratched the back of her thoughts.
Would she destroy this garden because it didn’t measure up to the ones before the drought?
No—never. She tended it all the more carefully.
And yet it was only a garden—a bit of soil, a few plants. Here today. Gone tomorrow.
Like the lilies of the field.
If God so clothe the grass, which is today in the field, and tomorrow is cast into the oven; how much more will He clothe you, O ye of little faith.
Lord, I know You love me and will take care of me. That isn’t the question.
Was it possible to believe that God had sent Emmet here to love her? Or was she wishing for something that was simply not so? What if she told him her problem and he backed away in horror and disappointment? How would she survive such a reaction?
Yet, how could it be worse than her rejection of his love?
Give him a chance.
Lord, would it be wrong to give him a chance? If so, stop me. Otherwise, I am going to tell him.
Nothing happened except more grasshoppers invaded the garden. She picked them off and pulled more weeds.
She returned to the house. Her peace must have been evident because Mother’s tension released when she saw her. “Your talk with Madge seems to have done you good.”
“It did. So did having a soul-searching talk with God.”
Mother hugged her. “He gives us peace that passeth understanding, but too often we don’t take it.”
“Mother, I want to thank you and Father for raising us to trust God.”
Mother’s eyes sheened with unshed tears. “I couldn’t ask for anything better than my daughters walking with God.”
Sally demanded details. “This has something to do with Emmet, doesn’t it?”
Louisa told her what happened. “I’m going to tell him the truth tonight.”
Sally clapped her hands. “About time.”
Mother dabbed at her eyes. “I’m so happy for you. Since the doctor said you would never have children, I’ve prayed you would find a man who would love you for who you are. I worried you might shut your heart to love. This is an answer to prayer.”
After supper, Louisa brushed her hair into submission and held it in place with matching silver combs. She wore her second-best dress and added a lace collar for good measure, but decided to forgo the gloves.
She stood before the door, ready to leave, then spun around to face Mother and Sally. “I’m scared.”
They rushed forward, patting her arms and hugging her. “No need to be afraid. We’ll be praying for you.”
She tucked courage under her heart and pushed confidence into her limbs. She whispered a little prayer and drove toward Golden Prairie.
Her emotions bumped along in time to the rough road. Elation and hope, followed by fear and doubt. At times it seemed her heart stuck to her ribs, unable to function, then it took off at a gallop, leaving her breathless.
She laughed—a sound of self-mockery—as she drove down the street. Nothing like being one hundred percent sure of her actions. But she was going on faith here. Following what she believed was a God-given opportunity.
Pulling the truck to a halt before the Hamilton house, she sat and stared. The formerly faded wooden door was now a sickly shade of green. Not particularly an improvement, to her way of thinking. What did she do next? She really ought to have planned this out better.
The door eased open.
She held her breath and tried to guess if Ellie, Auntie May or Emmet would step into the opening. Or perhaps it was only a neighbor leaving after a visit.
Emmet stepped into the light and stood watching her, the interior dark behind him, the setting sun highlighting his face. From this distance she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, couldn’t use that to judge his reaction to seeing her. But she took courage in the fact he didn’t slam the door on her.
Instead he closed it with particular care and walked toward her. A crow flew overhead, cawing. Hopefully not a mocking warning of what was to come.
She pushed her fears and doubts aside as he reached the gate.
“Can I help you?” Guarded—but of course he would be.
“I’d like to talk, if you don’t mind.”
“You were pretty clear about what you felt.”
“That’s just it. I didn’t tell you everything, and I think you deserve to hear it.”
He studied her a moment, revealing nothing.
“Please let me explain.”
“Very well. Do you want to come in?”
She glanced past him. “It’s rather private.”
“Ellie and Auntie May went to visit one of her old friends. Why don’t we sit in the backyard?”
“Fine.”
He held the door for her, and she stepped to the ground and followed him around to the back. He’d done a lot of work since she’d been here. “You fixed the fence and cleaned up some of the junk.”
“I put a bench against the shade in the hopes that Auntie May would use it once in a while.”
They both laughed somewhat nervously.
She sat on the bench at his invitation and waited, hoping he would sit too. But he stood, one boot resting on a bucket Auntie May had filled with dirt and planted with beans. And he waited. She felt his impatience even though he didn’t indicate it, either by speech or restless movement.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She had rehearsed what she would say, but it had been much easier when she was alone. “I didn’t want to hurt you by saying I couldn’t marry you, but I felt I had no choice.”
A muscle in his arm jerked.
“Not about hurting you. I don’t mean that. But I felt I had to say no, even if it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She lifted her face to him, let her love and hope and desperation show, not wanting to hide any part of the truth. “Emmet, your love is the greatest gift I could ever hope for. I love you too—”
He dropped to her side. “Then why did you say no?”
“Because there are things about me you don’t know.” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t go on.
He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. She didn’t resist. The weight of his arm anchored her. Made her realize their love was worth telling the truth.
“Remember, I told you I’d been sick.”
“Pneumonia? Right?”
“When I was younger. Last year it was influenza. Only for me, it was more. I had a raging infection throughout my body.”
His arm tightened about her.
“The doctor said I was fortunate to survive it.”
He rested his cheek against her head and made a rough sound in the back of his throat—a sound that indicated sympathy and pain at her suffering. “I’m glad you did.”
She nodded, reveling in the way her cheek brushed against his shoulder. “I’m glad too. But I lost something in the illness.”
“So long as you’re alive.”
The words gave her needed courage. “The infection left me barren.” Blunt, but she had no idea how to couch it in gentler terms.
“What?”
Her pain erupted. She’d never told Mother or her sisters how much she’d lost when she lost the ability to have children. “All my life I dreamed of having a houseful of children.” Tears gushed like a bottled-up waterfall. Her chest heaved in shudders. “Now.” She could only manage one word at a time. “I.” Sob. “Will.” Sniff. “Have.” Swallow hard. “None.”
She felt him stiffen. Knew the news had shocked him. She waited for him to pull her close, dry her tears, assure her over and over it didn’t matter. Love was enough.
He bolted to his feet and put a distance of two strides between them. “You can’t have children?”
Her tears dried at the roughness in his voice. “Never.”
He spun away, but not before she saw the look in his face. “To never have children—” He shook his head as if the idea was impossible to fathom.
“I’ll see myself out.” Never mind that she was already outside. She marched around the house. Cringed at the sound of something crashing.
It was what she had always feared. Expected, even. She shouldn’t be surprised.
No, she wasn’t surprised. She was devastated. He didn’t want a barren woman.
Who was foolish enough to think love could be enough?
Emmet let her go. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d seen the agony, heard the sobs, watched the tears flow. And he could do nothing to stop it. He couldn’t marry her now and every day face the undeniable fact he couldn’t protect her from this pain. He kicked the wooden bench, neatly removing one arm.
He knew how hard it was to live with failure. It had been his job to protect Jane. He’d failed.
Just as he failed his parents.
Everything stopped. His parents had died in an accident. An auto accident on a hilly road. He shook his head. He wouldn’t think about it.
Just as he wouldn’t think about Louisa and what she had lost. And how powerless he was to protect her.
He picked up the pieces of the shattered bench and repaired it.
By the time Ellie and Auntie May returned, there was nothing to indicate anything unusual had happened. Nothing but the acid burn in the pit of his stomach and a deep ache in the back of his brain.
Louisa made it home by instinct alone. She had no memory of the trip. The only thing she recalled was stepping into the house and knowing she would never be the same.
Sally and Mother waited for her return and rushed to ask how it went. One look at her, and they didn’t need to voice the question. Mother reached for her.
“Louisa, come sit.”
Sally closed the door, then helped Mother guide Louisa to the living room.
Louisa
sat because they said she should.
She wasn’t the least bit thirsty, but when Sally placed a cup of water in her hand she drank because she lacked the energy to argue.
“What did he say?” Sally asked.
“I can’t remember.” She didn’t need to recall the words. His actions, his expression had said it all. “Having children is very important to him. I knew that. Why did I think it wouldn’t matter?” She choked on her emotion and swallowed hard.
Mother sat at her side, rubbing her hands. “I can’t believe this. I thought better of Emmet.” She said it over and over, until Sally reached across and squeezed both pairs of hands.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out the way we want.”
Mother nodded. “But it isn’t Louisa’s fault.”
Her mother’s support was welcome, but it didn’t change the facts. “He can’t help what he wants either.”
“I suppose.” Mother rubbed Louisa’s back. “I hope you aren’t going to let this set you back.”
“What do you mean?” She glanced at Sally, but her sister shook her head. She didn’t know either.
“You’ve been so sick in the past. I can’t bear the thought this might affect your health.”
The words shook Louisa from her state of shock. “I’m not going to go into a decline, if that’s what you mean. When Doc told me I was barren, I decided I would never marry, so this is but a little bump in what I had planned.” Only she hadn’t planned anything. She’d simply ridden along on necessity and opportunity. She’d taken the job tutoring Ellie only for the money, not out of a great passion or plan.
All that was about to change. It must. She had to have something to aim at, some direction or, indeed, her mother’s fears might come true.
“I’ll be fine. Yes, it’s a disappointment, but don’t we all have to face them? I will pray about my future, and once I’m sure of what I want to do—what God wants me to do—I will begin making plans.”
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