by Heather Gray
Mary wanted to believe everything would be better now. With Pa gone, how could it not? Years of being shaped by brutal circumstances, though, filled her with a dread she tried to hide from the others. A forced smile on her face, she laid out their feast.
Would she be able to run the farm and turn enough of a profit that they could do more than barely get by? Could she be everything that her brothers and sisters needed? The questions didn't stop haunting her as everyone filled their plates.
Part Two
Is fear, then, so easily vanquished?
The journey from "merely surviving" to "in God's grace thriving" requires persistence.
Chapter Fourteen
June 1878
The following weeks fell into a regular pattern. Clive and Bobby ended up helping Grady at the Wilkes' farm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Grady came over and returned the favor on Mondays and Fridays. Mary originally argued the unfairness since they already owed him for work he had done around the farm. Grady contended, though, because he was getting the labor of two for two days and she was only getting the labor of one for two days, it balanced. Eventually, Mary gave in and stopped arguing the point.
Bobby continued to go to church with Grady, but Lizzie had not again asked if she could go. Mary wasn't sure if Lizzie had changed her mind altogether or if she felt safer staying close to home for now. She didn't plan to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, and so never raised the question herself.
Grady was over at the farm one Friday toward the end of the month. He and the boys had managed to plow and plant four fields on the Fitzgerald homestead and today were out in the fields cutting and pulling weeds so the plants could thrive. Weeds were always a big problem, but they were especially invasive this year in the wheat field.
The farm had several more fields, but since they had been sitting fallow for such a long time, they were harder to prepare for planting. Four was the most the family could manage this year. As it was, Mary was torn between thinking they should grow for canning and for the purpose of selling the end result. She ultimately took Grady's advice, planting one field of alfalfa to help them get the livestock through the winter plus one field each of potatoes, onions, and wheat.
****
"All right everyone," Grady called, "let's take a break and get a drink!" Everyone rushed to the wagon to drink from their canteens. Clive and Bobby worked as hard as any grown man Grady had ever known, probably harder than most. Lizzie and Gigi worked diligently and generally without complaint.
Smiling, Grady recalled the times he'd heard them grumble. Gigi, especially, could be quite vocal when she didn't like something. He was learning to work around that. All it took was taking a little time to work alongside her, giving her a chance to talk while she worked. Once she started talking, she immediately forgot she was also working.
After they all got a drink from their canteens, they rested for a short spell, then headed back out into the field to attack the weeds. This time, though, Lizzie sidled up next to Grady to do her share of the work. Grady enjoyed Lizzie's company and feared he didn't always do a good enough job of reassuring this quiet child. Giving her a big grin, he thanked her for her company, and then started working.
Lizzie kept getting closer and closer to him. It took Grady a while to catch on, but eventually he stopped what he was doing, pushed his wide-brimmed hat back on his head and squatted down next to the girl. "Did you need something Lizzie?"
"No, I don't need anything," she said her voice not much more than a whisper.
"Does somebody else need something?"
Looking unsure, she said, "Maybe, but I'm not sure I should say anything."
"Hm," Grady said. "Sounds like a dilemma." For Lizzie to be uncertain, it likely had to do with either Clive or Mary. Those two were still pretty prickly about accepting help of any kind. "Does Clive need help?" Lizzie shook her head. "Mary then?"
Lizzie didn't respond. Instead she looked around in all directions before leaning in close to Grady's ear and whispering, "Tomorrow's her birthday, but I'm not sure if I should tell you."
Grady leaned back on his heels while he removed his hat and ran his kerchief along his forehead and around his neck. "Do you think she'd be upset if we did anything for her?"
Lizzie nodded, "Most likely. If your Gram did something, though, she might not get mad."
"I like the way your mind works, Lizzie Fitzgerald," Grady said with a grin. "Nothing too fancy, though, right? We don't want Gram to catch Mary's wrath."
Lizzie frowned, "What's wrath?"
Wishing he could take the words back, Grady said, "It means we don't want Mary to get mad at Gram, so we probably shouldn't do anything too fancy." Frown still in place, Lizzie nodded. "Leave it to me, kiddo. I'll take care of everything," Grady said with bravado. Her eyes, touched with joy, reminded him of velvet smooth coffee.
Mary, on the other hand, was starting to make him think of an armadillo. It seemed almost impossible to get past the thick hard shell she used for protection.
****
The next day, Mary was tending her own little garden beside the house when she heard Grady's wagon come into the front yard. The boys were chopping wood to help them get ahead for the winter while the girls collected kindling in the woods at the back of the property. Mary tried to brush her hands off on her apron as she walked around to the front of the house. When she realized how much dirt she had embedded under and around her nails, she gave up any hope of appearing genteel. Not that it should have mattered to her. But somehow… it did.
"What brings you out?" she asked Grady as she took in the sight of him, broad-shouldered and muscular, his too-long hair adding to his charm.
"I have a favor to ask," Grady answered amiably.
"What do you need?" Grady and his grandparents had been good neighbors. Mary had also learned more from Clive and Bobby how much the Wilkeses had done to help them over the past years. There were a lot of things the boys had never told her because they were concerned, Bobby especially, she would reject gifts on principle if she thought they were given out of pity. Someday she planned to ask her neighbors about it, particularly the cow. The boys had sworn the cow had been replaced at least twice, yet the one out in their barn now was Flower, the same cow they'd hauled out to the back corner of the farm shortly after Ma died. Mary still didn't understand their far-fetched tale.
"Gram has fixed up this nice big supper and asked me to bring y'all over to enjoy it with us. You can't send me back there with an empty wagon. I might end up eating water and gruel for a month. Don't you know Gram holds a mean grudge?" The teasing in Grady's voice brought a smile to Mary's face.
"I'm sure it's not as bad as all that," she said in answer.
"Trust me. You don't want to know."
Mary trained her eyes on the yard, wishing she had a reason to decline the offer. The idea of spending that much time in close quarters with Grady made her uncomfortably aware of everything she wasn't. Despite her efforts, she couldn't think of a legitimate excuse. "Is there anything I can bring?"
"Well," Grady said, "if you happen to have a pie lyin' around, I'd be more'n willing to let you bring it. I'd even hold it for you."
Laughing, Mary asked, "How would you direct the wagon then?"
"The horses can get to the end of the drive on their own. By then, I'll have eaten the pie and my hands will be free!"
"It so happens, Mr. Grady Carlisle, I do have a pie available." Before he could ask, she told him, "a sweet potato pie."
"Mary Fitzgerald," Grady said in a light-hearted tone, "you might surely be the best neighbor I've ever had!"
The kids had all come up behind Mary and stood there with shining faces and clean hands, the look of an innocent cherub on each of their faces. Certain they were up to no good but not having a clue what it could be, Mary made her way to the house to clean up and collect the pie cooling in the kitchen. She had planned to visit a patch of wild strawberries tomorrow to see if she could collect
enough to make a strawberry pie for Grady, but this sweet potato pie would have to do in the meantime.
As Mary scrubbed at the dirt under her nails she thought back to the picnic and the pie she'd made. She had hoped to find someone to marry her and take them all away from Larkspur. Now here they were, Pa no longer a threat hanging over them, with nothing but their own hard work to provide for them. Even knowing flood, fire, or any number of other things could still go wrong, Mary felt better about their chances as a family than she'd felt in years.
****
"It's good to see you all," Mr. Wilkes said in welcome as Mary and the kids approached their front porch. "Lillian has been cooking up a storm all day, hoping you guys would be able to come over."
"Who's Lillian?" Gigi asked. "Did you get a housekeeper like fancy folk?"
Laughing, Mr. Wilkes told her, "That's my wife. You know her as Mrs. Wilkes, but I still call her Lillian sometimes." With a wink, he opened the front door and ushered them in.
Mrs. Wilkes greeted everyone and led them to the table where she was still in the process of laying food out. There was a ham, a pork roast, baby carrots, mashed potatoes, a strange yellow custard-looking dish they called cornbread, a sticky white dish that did indeed look a bit like gruel but was called grits, bread dressing, and a tomato cucumber salad in vinegar. Mary could see there was still more food in the kitchen waiting to be brought to the table, so she offered to help.
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Wilkes hurriedly, using a bright smile and her slender arms to direct Mary toward the table. "You're our guests. Sit down. Grady can help me." Mary handed the pie over to Grady, who was already juggling three loaves of bread, and took her seat at the table. Waiting for everyone to settle in, she decided to ask Mr. Wilkes about his cattle.
"Weeelll," he drew out. "It's been several years ago now, but once upon a time I had a mind to try my hand at cattle ranching. It would have worked better had there been a railroad in the area. Since there wasn't, though, and since I didn't like going on the long cattle drives to bring the animals to market, I finally realized it wasn't for me. I decided to stick to farming. I do, however, still raise enough cattle to sell here locally," he said while waving his arms in the general direction of Larkspur, "and to keep us fed. The herd's actually starting to grow a bit, getting to be more than I can handle on top of farming this place."
"Gramps, tell her how you got those cows," Grady said as he was placing more food on the table.
"This is the story," Mr. Wilkes began, "of how Grady was born to ranch." Leaning forward, a smile lighting his tan face, he said, "It's like this. I met this cattle rancher from Texas years before and had kept his name. When I decided I wanted to give cattle ranching a try, I contacted him to see if I could buy a bull and some heifers. We struck a deal, and he sent me the livestock I'd asked for.
"Without a train in the area, how did he get them to you?" Bobby, always inquisitive, asked.
"That's where the story gets fun," Mr. Wilkes said. "He sent three of his best ranch hands along to take care of the animals. Even sent a woman along to fix meals along the trail. One of those ranch hands turned out to be his son. Nice fellow, I suppose. A little too full of himself for my taste," Mr. Wilkes said with a twinkle in his eye, "but decent enough."
Grady settled at the table. Mrs. Wilkes was right behind him, saying "James, dear, why don't you bless the meal."
Mr. Wilkes bowed his head, "Thank you Lord for this bountiful feast. Bless the food to our bodies and give us the strength we need, Lord, to better serve You."
As the food began making its way around the table, Mrs. Wilkes picked up the earlier topic, "One of the ranch hands on that trip was Mr. Martinez. The woman was Mrs. Martinez. They were newly married at the time. When they got up here and saw how beautiful Idaho was, they decided to stay. They've been here ever since."
"Was Mr. Martinez the rancher's son?" Gigi asked, eyes wide. The Martinez boys all worked at the stage office in town.
Laughing, Mr. Wilkes continued the story, "No, Gigi, Mr. Martinez was one of the ranch hands, but he was not the son. The son's name was William. William Carlisle."
Everyone continued eating, listening to the story. After a couple of beats, Clive exclaimed, "Carlisle is Grady's last name!"
"Yes indeed," Grady said. "My grandfather was the Texas rancher, and my pa came up on that cattle drive. That's how he met my ma. They fell in love, got married, and then headed back to Texas together."
"What's your ma's name?" Gigi asked.
"It used to be Elizabeth Wilkes, but when she married my pa, it changed to Elizabeth Carlisle," Grady answered.
"That's my name!" Lizzie exclaimed, more animated than usual.
****
The meal went quickly for Mary. She enjoyed Mr. Wilkes' story-telling and found it endearing the way Mrs. Wilkes would pick up the story right where her husband left off whenever he stopped to take a bite. Thinking back again to the church picnic, Mary wondered if she would ever have a husband of her own and if the two of them would get along the way Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes did.
When Mrs. Wilkes got up, Mary offered to help clear the table, but the older woman once again sent her out of the kitchen and back to her place at the table. Mary frowned, not sure whether to feel left out or rejected. She was pondering Mrs. Wilkes' behavior when the woman suddenly stepped out of the kitchen with a towering chocolate cake covered in candles.
Stunned, Mary's mouth dropped open. Mrs. Wilkes placed the cake right in front of her, and everyone began singing, "Happy Birthday."
How could I have forgotten my own birthday?
The girls chanted, "Make a wish, make a wish."
Meanwhile the boys were telling her "Blow out the candles! Blow out the candles!"
Everyone was in high spirits. Mary realized they had all been conspiring against her from the beginning. Not wanting to spoil anyone's fun, she took a deep breath and blew out all eighteen candles. When Gigi asked what she'd wished for, Mary reached far back into her memory, searching for birthdays with Ma, and was able to pull out exactly the right thing to say. "If I tell you, it won't come true."
The cake was delicious. She could tell Clive and Bobby helped choose the flavor. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Her boys did love their chocolate, and it was a rare treat at home. Though Mary normally preferred pie, she had to admit, as cakes went, it was good.
The remainder of the evening passed with light-hearted conversation. Mary was able to sit back and allow the words to swirl through the air around her. She was becoming more comfortable with the Wilkeses but still didn't feel like she knew what to say when talking casually.
Later that night, as Mary was tucking the girls in, Lizzie asked again if she could attend church with Bobby the next day. The instant ambivalence that swarmed Mary surprised her. Her hands tensed, her heart raced, and she bit her lip to hold back the words threatening to spill over. She wanted to vehemently tell her sister no, but the reason for her reaction escaped her. When it came down to it, she couldn't deny Lizzie. The girl had done nothing wrong, and Mary knew if her little sister thought she'd said or done something to upset Mary, she would be guilt-ridden about it. Lizzie was a sensitive soul like that.
Doing her best to hide her emotions, Mary gave her consent. The joy on Lizzie's face almost erased the unhappiness in Mary's heart.
Chapter Fifteen
Grady and his grandparents stopped every Sunday morning where the Fitzgerald's drive met the main road to pick up Bobby. The boy had been going to church with them for over a month now. He rarely had any questions for them, and when he did, they were generally basic questions such as, "Why do people dress up for church?" This Sunday, though, the day after Mary's birthday, surprise settled over the wagon as it approached the usual rendezvous spot.
When Grady saw Lizzie standing next to Bobby, his hope soared. He thought perhaps the rest of the family was there, too, out of sight. When he realized Bobby and Lizzie were alone, he swallowed his disappoin
tment down. The look of empathy Gram gave him told him he'd not hidden it quite as well as he'd hoped.
Gramps usually drove the wagon on Sunday morning with Gram by his side while Grady sat in the back with Bobby. Grady jumped down to give Lizzie a boost then sat with both her and her brother as they continued the drive into town.
People could mistake Lizzie for shy because she seldom spoke. Grady had come to understand that she wasn't, not really. She simply knew when she wanted to speak and when she didn't. She rarely had trouble saying something when she wanted to, so Grady had long ago stopped thinking of her as timid.
On this morning, however, Lizzie vibrated with bashfulness. Grady thought he would try to help her feel better. "Lizzie," he asked, "do you have any questions about church before we get there?" When the young girl shook her head no, Grady said, "Bobby, maybe you can tell Lizzie about some of the questions you've had, or some of the things that felt strange to you when you first started coming."
"Well," Bobby said, "you best take care of your business before the service begins because Grady won't let you out to use the privy once the reverend starts talking."
Lizzie observed Grady, her eyes wide. He nodded but smiled at her. "People need to hear what the reverend has to say. It's important. Everyone gets distracted when people are getting up, going out, and coming back in. So we don't allow that. That's the way it's always been in my family."
"Are we family?" Lizzie asked.
"Of course we are," Grady said with a wink. "Are you sure you can't think of any questions?"
"I sort of remember going to church with Ma," Lizzie offered. "People sang and prayed. There was a lot of standing and then sitting and then standing again. Like people needed their exercise or something."