by Heather Gray
Looking at Clive, Samuel said, "That's great! Congratulations on the job," and extended his arm to shake Clive's hand. Unused to such attention, the boy hesitated before returning the gesture. Returning his focus to Mary, Samuel asked, "Have you thought about churning butter? Seems to me that's something Lizzie and Gigi could pitch in and help do for the family. Might even get these big strong boys on board."
Stunned, Mary said, "I never thought of that."
From behind her, Clive piped up, "Sure would ha' been a lot easier than spending all that time making a cheese house!"
Sarah heard the jest in Clive's voice and said ruefully, "We can eat cheese for supper if need be, Clive, but we sure can't eat a crock of butter, now can we?" Giving her attention back to Samuel, she said, "I'm not sure how to gauge the milk and what you'll be needing. Do you think we can settle in to a routine once you've got the hotel open before deciding about butter? I don't want to commit to that and then run out of milk so we can't meet your milk requirements."
Samuel nodded, "We can revisit it later. I'll warn you, however, if someone else comes along and offers to provide all the butter the hotel needs, I may have to take them up on the offer."
Sarah felt her stomach clench in momentary fear but knew deep down she was making the right decision. "I understand. If someone does come along, do you think you can let me know and give me a chance to reconsider before you decide?" Wanting to explain further, she added, "I've committed to meet your need for milk, and I don't want to cut my milk supply short to meet a butter demand, but we don't yet know for certain how much milk you're going to be needing. I want to make sure I can keep all my commitments before I go takin' on any new ones."
"That's a responsible choice, Mary," Samuel said. Reaching out to tug on one of Lizzie's braids, he added, "I reckon I can let you know if someone offers to supply butter so you can have a chance to counter. Like you, I'd hate to see my source of milk dry up simply so I can have butter. I'm sure the good Lord will work it out somehow," he said with an easy smile.
Sarah approached, her wheat-colored curls bouncing with each step. She heard the last remark and, grey-green eyes twinkling, asked, "What is the good Lord going to be working out for us today, husband?"
Before Samuel could answer, Gigi, clutching Miss Lucinda tightly to her chest, asked, "Miss Sarah, I'm being real polite now, aren't I?"
Looking in bafflement from Gigi to the adults who were doing a poor job of hiding laughter behind their hands, Sarah finally answered, "I'd say so, Gigi. It's good to be polite, isn't it?"
Gigi nodded quickly, her braids flying in tandem. "Yes ma'am, it is. Do you think it would be possible for me to see if I got a letter waiting for me at the stage office? I know it's Sunday and all, but Miss Lucinda here," she said, holding out her doll for inspection, "is real anxious to see about this letter." Batting her big blue eyes, Gigi was the picture of childlike sincerity.
Sarah patted Miss Lucinda on the head and said, "She sure is a fine doll, Gigi, and I'd love to help her out, but I can tell you that neither you nor Miss Lucinda have any mail at the stage office. Something might come in on tomorrow's stage, but as of right now, there's nothing there for you."
Gigi's disappointment was palpable. Tears immediately welled, and she buried her face in Miss Lucinda's thick, yarn-like hair. Mary reached out and put her arm around Gigi's shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze. "Thank you, Sarah, for letting us ask. I'm sure the kids will be by tomorrow to see if any mail came in on the stage."
Looking apologetic, Sarah said, "If I didn't know for sure, I'd be willing to go look, but I'm certain there's nothing."
"It's okay, Sarah. Thank you. Gigi's missing Grady and I thought maybe if a letter was there for her it would make her feel better."
Turning toward home, the family of five began the walk. Mary wondered if any of her siblings realized how much she, too, missed Grady. She'd spent so many years protecting them that it had become second nature, even when it meant sheltering them from her own sadness.
Mary was slowly finding the courage to show her brothers and sisters her heart. She was learning that keeping secrets, even for the sake of protection, kept them from growing as close as they could. One of these days she would tell them about the letter Grady had left for her and the one she'd eventually written him. They deserved to know how she felt. Today wasn't going to be that day, though.
She wasn't quite ready yet to say, "He must not care about me. He never wrote back."
****
The afternoon sun was bright, but the chill in the air lent itself to a brisk walk home. Gigi was still not her normal chipper self, and Mary thought talking about Grady might help her to feel better. Steeling herself against a conversation she knew would hurt, she asked, "Hey Bobby, when did you last hear from Grady?"
"Last letter I got from Grady was two weeks ago," Bobby said. "He asked if I was still thinking about medical school. Said to give everyone his love." After a pause, Bobby added, "Oh, and he said he saw a herd of javelinas."
"What's a javelina?" Gigi asked.
Bobby shook his head and said, "I have no idea. I asked Mr. Grayson, and he said he'd have to look it up and get back to me. So I wrote Grady and asked him to draw me a picture, but I haven't heard back yet."
"I wrote and told Grady about Mr. O'Keefe and the horse rancher he knows," Clive added to the conversation when Mary gave him a pointed look over Gigi's head. "Told him I didn't think I wanted to go to Texas to work with horses. It's too far away." Picking up a stick and tossing it ahead of them down the road, Clive added, "He wrote back maybe three weeks ago and said he thought that was a fine idea. Said there are a lot of good horse ranchers in Montana. Grady remembered Mr. O'Keefe from when he was a boy and told me some funny stories about him."
Mary let the kids reminisce about Grady. He hadn't been in their lives nearly long enough, but every one of them had grown to love him in their own way during the time they'd had with him.
Lizzie spoke up next, saying, "I got a letter last week. It was old, though. Must ha' gotten lost in the post. He told me about some of the families on his grandfather's ranch. Someone was getting married, but I can't remember who. I'd told him about meeting Mr. Livingston and how he was married to Miss Sarah now. I was wondering what kind of man I was going to marry and if he would wear flashy clothes like Mr. Livingston or be mean like Pa. Grady told me to trust God and let Him tell me who to marry. If I let Him do that, then I don't need to spend so much time worrying."
Mary stumbled when Lizzie mentioned marriage. She had no idea her little sister was thinking about such things already. Wanting to add her reassurance, she said, "I think we should all decide here and now not to marry anyone unless we all agree. Lizzie, you can't go getting married unless all four of the rest of us approve of that person."
"What for? Clive asked.
"Ma thought she was marrying a good man," Mary said.
"Yeah, and look how that ended up," Bobby said.
"Precisely," Mary said. "If we all have to approve of the person, seems to me there's less chance of us making the same mistake as Ma."
"That makes sense, Mary," Lizzie said thoughtfully. "I try not to worry about it, but I do sometimes. I don't want to ever go back to living like we had to when Pa was alive."
Gently squeezing her sister's shoulder, Mary said, "I think that settles it. No one in this Fitzgerald family can get married until all siblings have met and approved of the person. Agreed?"
Gigi, who rarely said anything without enthusiasm, declared, "Agreed!"
Lizzie nodded and said, "Agreed."
Bobby said, "I think you're all crazy to be talking about marriage, but I'll agree too."
When everyone regarded Clive, he said, "Oh all right. I agree. But I don't like being told what to do, so you guys better all like whoever I decide to marry." The girls squealed when he raised his arms and growled at them like a grumpy bear. It always warmed Mary's heart whenever she caught a glimpse of the t
enderness she knew was hidden inside Clive's rough exterior.
Gigi assured them all that Miss Lucinda agreed, too. Then she began talking about the type of dress her doll would wear and how her hair would be fixed for her own little doll wedding.
It was on that lighthearted note they all stepped into the clearing in front of their house.
Bobby was the first to notice something amiss. "Mary, the door's open."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mary went on full alert. They had installed a latch on the door, and Mr. Wilkes had insisted on making sure they had a lock as well. They were all so unused to having one, they often forgot to lock it. Thinking back to that morning, Mary knew she'd been the last to leave the house, but, for the life of her, she couldn't remember whether or not she'd locked the door. All she remembered was how upset Gigi had been.
They had no weapon with them, and they kept no weapons stored in the barn. Their weapons were all in the house. Mary knew she needed to send someone to run for the Wilkes farm in case there was trouble, but she didn't know who to send. If she sent Bobby, then both girls would be here in harm's way. On the other hand, if she sent Lizzie and the girl ran into trouble along the way, she'd never forgive herself.
"Bobby, go run for Mr. Wilkes. Let him know we might have trouble. Make sure they're okay." Clive's voice was strong and authoritative, the voice of a man protecting his family. "Mary, you hide in the trees here with the girls. I'm going to go take a look in the barn and see if anyone's in there. If it's safe, I'll whistle for you so you'll know you can join me. Then I'll scout the house."
Pulling both girls close to her sides, Mary and Bobby were both about to do exactly as Clive had told them. Gigi, though, shrieked, and tore out of Mary's grasp, running full-tilt toward the house. She was beyond their reach before any of them could react. Any thought of safety was discarded as Mary took off running after Gigi, the rest of the siblings chasing behind her. Mary came to a screeching halt when she saw who stood on the porch of their house. Clive stopped just as suddenly and bumped into her back. Bobby, who was behind Clive, came to the same hasty stop, jostling Clive who, in turn, bumped into Mary again. Lizzie, on the other hand, went running right past all of them and didn't come to a stop until she reached the porch steps.
Gigi's emotional sobs were loud enough to cause birds to stir in the nearby trees. Her arms and legs were wrapped so tightly around their visitor he didn't even have to hold onto her, which was a good thing, since he held a half-eaten strawberry pie in one hand and a fork in the other. He bent over awkwardly to set the pie down on a chair and pivoted to his other side so he could put the fork in the pie tin. Finally free to wrap his arms about Gigi, he said, "It's good to see you, too, Pumpkin. I've missed you."
Miss Lucinda sat forlornly in the dirt near Mary's feet, discarded by Gigi partway across the clearing between the drive and their house. Bending down to pick up the doll, Mary smoothed her yarn-like hair. "Well, Miss Lucinda," she said, her voice catching in her throat, "it looks like your papa's come home."
When Grady put Gigi down, he picked up Lizzie and gave her an equally long and loving hug. Mary couldn't hear what he said to the girl, but the way the child clung to him spoke of how much she, too, had missed him.
After he put Lizzie down, Grady stepped off the porch and walked toward where Mary and the boys stood. He stopped partway along and said to Mary, "You still owed me a strawberry pie, so when I saw that one sitting on the kitchen counter, I couldn't resist. I hope you don't mind that I let myself in."
"I don't mind," she said hoarsely, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of him. "I hope you enjoyed it." Mary's heart was racing, but she couldn't make her legs move. More than anything, she wanted to believe he was here because of her. She was afraid, though, that his love for the rest of her family was what brought him back to Idaho, not anything special he might feel for her.
"Best strawberry pie I've ever had," Grady said with a smile.
Mary was tense with unspoken words as she watched each of the boys give Grady a handshake before joining the girls on the porch.
Still standing in the same spot and holding Miss Lucinda, Mary said, "I wrote you."
"It was a fine letter," Grady answered.
"I thought you were needed in Texas."
"My grandfather let me out of the work contract I'd signed."
"Why'd he do that?" Mary asked.
"I told him about your letter."
"You must have spun some tale if it got your grandfather to let you out of a contract," Mary said, her voice strained.
"Want to hear what I told him?" Grady asked, his gaze tender.
Mary nodded, her eyes riveted to the man before her. She took in the sight of him like a wilting plant drinking in water. His hair was a bit longer, still as disheveled as ever. His slate-colored eyes were more breathtaking than she remembered. He had the same strong, solid presence that made her feel safe and protected.
"I told him there was this girl up in Idaho Territory I'd known pretty much my whole life. This girl had it rough, but she didn't use that as an excuse for being a hard person. She loved her brothers and sisters wholeheartedly and did everything she could to protect them at an age when someone should have been protecting her."
He took a half step forward and said, "I explained to my grandfather how this girl could yell with the best of them and that I'd never been able to figure out why she did so much of that yellin' at me. Then I told him how she worked it out for herself and finally told me. She felt safe with me, see, and every bad feeling she'd ever had to hold inside came pouring out whenever I was around because she believed I wouldn't lash back at her. Turns out this girl was such a shrew – her word, not mine— because she trusted me."
Grady ran his fingers through his sun-kissed hair before continuing. "I told my grandfather this girl had forgotten she'd once loved Jesus with the same fierce devotion she had for her family. I told him I loved this girl and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her but had felt it best to return to Texas instead. Then I told him," Grady said, slowly beginning to close the rest of the distance between he and Mary, "I'd gotten a letter from this girl and that, in the letter, she told me she remembered how much she'd once loved Jesus and that she was going to keep on loving Him for the rest of her life."
Grady stood a short distance from Mary, barely out of arm's reach. She was afraid to believe what he'd said. Could he really love her? She had so much to make up for. How could she ever…? Choking back the fear and self-doubt crashing over her from every direction, she asked, her voice faint, "What did your grandfather say?"
His countenance shining with the love he'd spoken of, Grady answered, "My grandfather is a wise man. He told me I was an idiot for standing in his office and talking to him about you when I ought to be on a horse high-tailing it back to Idaho Territory."
"I like the way your grandfather thinks."
"Me, too. I headed out before sunrise the next day."
Then, still standing out of reach, Grady asked, "Mary, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you by my side. Whether we farm, ranch, or sell eggs — I don't care. All that matters to me is that I get to see your beautiful face each day."
"Remember what we agreed to Mary!" Bobby yelled from the porch.
"Ah, who's he kidding," Clive hollered even louder. "He don't love you. All he wants is your strawberry pie!"
Everyone except Gigi knew Clive was joking. First she stomped her little foot, and then when that didn't get the reaction she wanted, she kicked Clive in the shin. "Grady loves Mary and wants to be our family. He didn't come here for a silly pie! You take those words back!"
Mary pulled her eyes away from the ensuing chaos on the porch and watched Grady. She saw promise in his eyes. This was not a man whose affection would be fleeting or who would ever resent her for saddling him with a ready-made family. The love lighting his face, turning his eyes from grey
to dancing silver, assured her that Grady would remain by her side through all of life's joys and trials. That's the kind of man he was. Every day of pain she'd ever experienced faded in her memory as she soaked in the love this man was so openly pouring out for her.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
Mary started to nod and then caught herself. "I… I can't."
Grady stared at Mary in confusion.
Mary rushed on, "I mean, that is to say, I, we…" Sighing, she began again, "We made a deal. Nobody in this Fitzgerald family will get married unless all siblings agree to the union."
Taking it in stride, Grady said, "Fair enough. What do you think? Should we ask them?" When Mary nodded, Grady rotated around to face the porch and yelled, "I aim to marry your sister, but she says she can't say yes unless y'all approve."
Clive was holding a squirming Gigi, but no amount of physical restraint could keep her from yelling out, "I approve! I approve! You can say yes Mary – I approve!" Gigi was definitely going to win that wrestling match. Clive was no match for her girlish enthusiasm.
"I think it's a might' fine idea. If you want him, Mary, I approve." Bobby's words were softer than Gigi's shouted proclamation but still solid and firm.
"What about you Lizzie?" Grady asked.
The young girl watched her shuffling feet for a bit before she finally peered up at the twosome. "Does that mean you'll live here with us?" she asked.
"For now, yes."
Lizzie frowned and asked, "What do you mean?"
Grady waved his arms to encompass the buildings around them. "I know this has been your home for your whole life, and if we decide as a family this is where we want to stay, then we'll fix it up and stay here, maybe add on to the house a bit or something. My grandparents are giving me their spread, though, and so we might want to think about moving on up that way. Or even building somewhere in between the two. Wherever we decide to live, we'll make those decisions as a family." When Lizzie still didn't say anything, Grady asked, "What am I missing, Lizzie? You can ask me anything. I promised to always be honest with you, and that's a promise I aim to keep."