Love's Unending Legacy

by Janette Oke

  “S’pose yer rather anxious to git back yerself?” Clark was saying.

  Lane wished to be truthful, and he hardly knew how to respond to Clark’s question. “Guess there are things ’bout here thet grow on one, too” was all he said, glad when Clark did not question him further.

  Tramping on the porch announced the coming of Kate and Clare, and Clark moved to the door to welcome them and take their coats. He kissed Kate on the forehead and told her how good it was to have her able to join them.

  Clare and Lane shook hands vigorously. Though it had been only a matter of an hour or two since they had been together in the woods, they had fallen into an easy camaraderie that Lane deeply appreciated.

  Clark assigned seats around the table, and all of them took their places. Clark took his usual seat at the end of the table, and Marty sat opposite him at the other end. Kate and Clare sat to Clark’s left, and Lane and Ellie were left with the places on Clark’s right. Lane was very conscious of Ellie’s closeness, but he was thankful he would not need to look into her eyes over the table.

  The talk was cheery and light. Even Kate joined in with a sparkle in her eyes. Ellie was the only quiet one in the group. She stayed very occupied with making sure the bowls were kept full of food and the bread plate refilled. She fussed pouring coffee and took longer than necessary preparing the dessert. Marty wondered if she had taken time to eat anything.

  After the meal was over, Clark threw more logs on the open fire in the living room fireplace and invited the others to sit and enjoy its warmth. Marty began to help with the dishes, but Ellie sent her from the kitchen, saying that Kate needed her in the living room far more than she needed her in the kitchen. Marty was finally convinced and joined the family there.

  Lane puttered around, feeling rather self-conscious. He poked at the fire occasionally, adding a comment to the conversation now and then to fulfill his social obligations, and found himself shifting pillows around and around in his chair. With all of his being he ached to be in the kitchen with Ellie, yet he dared not go. He was sure he could not be trusted—he was bound to blunder and make some comment or plea that would let her know how much he cared for her. He mustn’t. He knew that he mustn’t. To do so would only hurt her more, and Lane could not bring her pain.

  If only he could leave, he kept thinking. It was pure agony just sitting there listening to the family talk.

  All the while his ears strained toward the kitchen. He heard every sound Ellie was making. He knew just how far she had progressed in the washing and drying of the dishes. There … she was placing the clean ones back on the cupboard shelves. Now the cutlery. Then the cups on the hooks. She wiped the table and the cupboard. Her cloth went swish, swish as she circled the inside of the dishpan before pouring out the dishwater. Now she was replacing the pan on the hook and hanging up the dish towels—evenly—to dry beside the big black cook stove. There … she was done. She would be removing her apron and wiping her hands on the kitchen towel. Would she join them, or would she excuse herself and go to her room?

  Ellie entered quietly and took a chair by the fire. She sat looking into the flames, as though looking for a message there.

  The evening had not gone well for Ellie. It was the first time she had really seen Lane since … since Christmas, except for gatherings such as the church services and the funeral for Kate and Clare’s baby. She had wondered just what to say when she did see him. What would he say? Would he ask her if she had reconsidered? Pa had said Lane wouldn’t give up that easily. Well, it appeared he had. Perhaps he hadn’t really cared that much after all. But he did, Ellie argued within herself. She was sure of it. Then why did he say nothing … do nothing? Was he afraid he would be refused again? Ellie was troubled. It was hardly the place of a girl to … No, she wouldn’t even think about it.

  Ellie tried to join in with the conversation, but she soon knew it was no use. She excused herself and went back to the kitchen. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fixed a plate of scraps for Rex and quietly let herself out of the house.

  Lane stuck it out for a few more minutes. He had been right. Ellie didn’t really care that much. He finally thanked his host and hostess for the good meal and told them he really should be heading for home if he was to be of use to the men in the woods the next day. The logging for the winter was almost completed. The sawing and chopping would come next.

  Clark and Clare both rose to their feet with the intention of going with Lane for his horse, but he waved them both back to their chairs.

  “Be no need,” he assured them. “Stay here by the fire and enjoy the good company. Me, I know where ol’ Jack is.”

  He let himself out and walked silently to the barn, his heart heavy. Next week, his heart kept saying, next week and I’ll be gone.

  He opened the barn door and was surprised to see the soft glow of the lantern. He wasn’t aware that the Davises left a light in the barn at night. That was risky, and no farmer ever—

  And then Lane saw Ellie, her head bowed over the nearly grown Rex. She was stroking him gently, and tears glistened on her cheeks.

  Lane did not know whether to make his presence known or to walk home, leaving his horse. At that moment Ellie raised her head. She gasped slightly and rose to her feet.

  “I … I … just came to bring ’im his supper,” she explained quickly.

  Lane cleared his throat. He didn’t know what to say. “He’s really growin’, ain’t he?” he finally stammered.

  Ellie brushed self-consciously at her tears. “Sure is.” She tried a chuckle, pushing back the tail-wagging Rex.

  There was silence.

  “Ya goin’ home?” Ellie finally asked.

  “Yeah. I was. I … I … thanks fer thet good supper. Sure beats my batchin’ meals.”

  “Yer welcome. Anytime. Guess ya won’t need to batch much longer, huh?”

  “Guess not.” A pause. “Sure beats Cookie’s meals, too, though.”

  They both laughed halfheartedly.

  Ellie reached and scooped up the dish in which she had brought Rex’s supper. “When will ya be wantin’ Rex?” she asked, “or will ya be able to take ’im?”

  “Oh, I’ll take ’im,” Lane hurried to answer. He didn’t add that he wasn’t sure how he was going to get a dog out west on the train. There must be some way, he thought.

  “I wasn’t sure what a rancher would do with a cattle dog,” Ellie said. “Rex is gonna be real good with cattle. He already can bring them in from the pasture. Watches their heels real good, too. He’d be great as a farm dog.”

  “Wish I could be a farmer,” Lane said slowly.

  Ellie showed surprise. “Thought ya loved the West an’ ranchin’ an’—”

  “Oh, I do. I do, but I’d …” Lane stopped. “Look, Ellie,” he said, “we gotta talk an’ we can’t talk here. Can we go back to the kitchen or … or somethin’?”

  “We can walk.”

  “Ya won’t be too cold?”

  “This is a warm coat.”

  Ellie put down the dish again and reached for the lantern. Lane thought she was going to take it with her, but instead she carried it to the open door, blew it out, and set it up against the barn.

  “Don’t want to chance a fire,” she explained. “Pa lost a barn once.”

  They turned toward the lane. Overhead the winter sky was clear. Stars—multitudes of stars—twinkled above them. A pale yellowy moon showed its last quarter. The wind lightly rustled the frosted branches of the trees. They walked in silence.

  But the silence didn’t last too long.

  “I still have thet locket,” Lane said.

  “Oh?”

  “I’d still like ya to have it … even though … even though …” He decided to change his approach. “I said back there thet I’d like to be a farmer. Well, what I meant was thet … thet iffen there was any way so’s I could stay in the area so thet … well, so thet … but try as I might, I can’t think of any way to come up with the money it
would take fer a farm.”

  “Ya found thet ya like farmin’ better than ranchin’?”

  Lane wanted to be truthful. “No,” he said. “No, I reckon I still like ranchin’ the best.”

  “Then why would ya want to farm?”

  “I … I thought you would know thet.”

  Ellie stopped and leaned her arms on the corral fence. Lane stopped beside her.

  “Ellie,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Ellie, I love ya. I know I have little to offer. Not near what a man should be offerin’ a woman. I know ya said thet ya can’t go out west ’cause it would break yer mama’s heart. I’d stay here an’ farm or work in town iffen only there was some way … some way to … to make a decent livin’ fer ya. I’ve laid awake nights tryin’ to sort it all out, but—”

  Ellie laid a hand on his arm and Lane stopped in midsentence.

  “Lane,” she said softly, “ya said ya still have thet locket.”

  He was puzzled at her interruption but nodded his agreement.

  “Do ya have it here?”

  Lane lifted a hand to his inside breast pocket.

  “Right here,” he said.

  “I think I’d like it now,” whispered Ellie.

  Lane pulled forth the locket with trembling hands.

  “Would ya fasten it, please?” asked Ellie.

  Ellie pulled aside her hair and turned around so Lane could fasten the locket around her neck. His fingers felt clumsy, and he wondered if he’d ever get the tiny clasp fastened. By some miracle he did. Ellie turned back around and, standing on tiptoe, placed a kiss on Lane’s cheek. “Thank ya,” she whispered.

  Lane felt like he was going to come apart—hope and fear colliding in his chest.

  “Ellie, please. Don’t tease,” he pleaded.

  “I’m not teasin’.”

  “But—”

  “A moment ago, ya said thet ya loved me.”

  “I … I … do—”

  “An’ I accepted yer gift, given with yer love.”

  “But the kiss—”

  “Lane,” interrupted Ellie, “I would never kiss a man I didn’t love.”

  “But what about yer mama? Ya said—”

  “I had a talk with my mama … after my pa had a talk with me. Both of ’em say I have to make my own life … thet they want my happiness wherever it leads me. Iffen it’s the West, then—”

  But Lane stopped her. “Oh, Ellie,” he said, his voice sounding choked. He drew her close to him.

  They walked and talked a long time in the crisp moonlight. At last they heard the door slam and voices over the frosty night air, and they knew Clare and Kate were on their way home.

  “It must be gittin’ late,” sighed Ellie.

  “Too late fer a chat with yer pa?”

  Ellie smiled at him. “Don’t s’pose it’s thet late,” she assured him, and they walked hand in hand toward the house.

  TWENTY - TWO

  Ma Comes Calling

  The time for Marty’s confinement was drawing near. Thinking about Ma Graham, she was concerned she had not seen her for such a long time. She knew that Ma had her family, but Marty felt maybe Ma needed her, too.

  Their previous plans for Ellie to go and pick up Ma for a nice, long visit had not materialized. The unexpected birth and then the loss of Kate’s baby had wiped away all thoughts of the visit from their minds. Now Marty was ready to try again. She wasn’t sure if it was because she thought Ma needed her or because she knew she needed Ma.

  Marty was happy to see Ellie bloom again, now that she and Lane had worked things through. She felt that, if anyone deserved to be happy, it was her Ellie. She even felt a bit of satisfaction that, in the near future, the two sisters might again have each other. But Marty was also aware of just how difficult it was going to be for her to actually give up Ellie as she had done with Missie. She needed to talk to Ma. Ma would understand exactly how she felt.

  So Marty laid out her plan before Clark.

  “Been thinkin’ a lot ’bout Ma Graham,” she began. “Wonderin’ how she’s doin’.”

  “I been thinkin’ on her, too,” Clark responded.

  “Sure would be good to sorta check on her,” continued Marty.

  “I’m goin’ to town day after tomorra. I can do thet. Thought I should stop by an’ see iffen there’s any way I could help.”

  For a moment Marty was silenced.

  “Wasn’t really thinkin’ ’bout what she might be needin’ from town or such,” she eventually continued. “Thinkin’ more along the … the fellowship lines.”

  “I see,” nodded Clark. “Lou’s wife is right there. An’ I expect thet the rest of her girls git over to see her, too.”

  “Sometimes one needs neighbors as well as family,” Marty persisted.

  “I just don’t think it would be wise right now.”

  “What wouldn’t be wise?” asked Marty innocently.

  “You makin’ a trip out in the cold to go see Ma.”

  “Did I suggest thet?”

  “Not in words, ya didn’t, but it’s what ya were aimin’ at, ain’t it?”

  “Well, sorta … but not exactly. What I was really wonderin’ was iffen ya would mind goin’ on over an’ pickin’ up Ma fer a mornin’ an’ then takin’ her on home again.”

  Clark laughed. “Well, why didn’t ya just come out an’ say so?”

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d think of the idea,” said Marty truthfully.

  “What I think ’bout it an’ what I agree to do ’bout it are often two different things,” said Clark wryly, “an’ well ya know it.”

  Marty reached a hand to Clark’s cheek. “I know,” she said, “an’ I love ya fer it.”

  Clark laughed and turned his head so he might kiss her fingers.

  “I’ll see,” he said, and Marty knew that was his promise.

  “Tomorra?”

  “Tomorra.”

  Marty went to bed happy with the knowledge that on the morrow she would have a visit with her dear friend again.

  When Clark was hitching the team to the sleigh the next morning to make his promised trip to pick up Ma, Lady began to bark, running down the lane toward an approaching team. It was Lou Graham.

  Clark threw a rein around a fence post and walked toward the upcoming sleigh, his crutch thumping on the frozen ground.

  Lou was not alone. Carefully tucked in with warm blankets, Ma Graham sat beside him.

  After a neighborly “howdy,” Lou explained. “Ma’s been frettin’ ’bout not seein’ Marty fer a spell. I was goin’ on by to pick up some feed barley at the Spencers’, so I brought her along fer a chat while I’m gone.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Clark. “I was just hitchin’ my team to come on over an’ git ya, Ma. Marty’s been right anxious to see ya.”

  Clark helped Ma down, and Lou prepared to be on his way again.

  “I’ll bring Ma on home whenever she an’ Marty think they’ve had ’em enough woman talk,” Clark joked.

  “Ya mind? Thet sure would help me out some. Then I can go on back by way of town an’ git some things I’m needin’.”

  The team left the yard, and Clark walked to the house with Ma. He would put the horses back in the barn and give them some hay until they were needed to return Ma home.

  Marty couldn’t believe her eyes when Clark ushered Ma into the kitchen. She knew Clark couldn’t possibly have been to the Grahams’ and back already.

  She laughed when she heard the story and settled Ma down in one of the comfortable kitchen chairs. Ellie put on the coffee and placed the cups on the table. Then she set a plate of sugar cookies beside the cups and excused herself.

  “Think I’ll just run off down to Kate’s fer a bit,” she said.

  “Not so fast, young lady,” Ma said with a knowing smile. “What’s this I’m hearin’ ’bout you and thet there young, goodlookin’ cowboy?”

  Ellie blushed.

  “It bein’ true?” continued Ma.

&nb
sp; “It’s true—thet is, iffen you’ve been hearin’ what I think ya might have been hearin’.”

  Ma pulled Ellie close and gave her a big hug. “I’m happy fer ya,” she said hoarsely. “I’ve always saw you young’uns as sorta my own. I wish ya all the happiness, Ellie, an’ God bless ya … real good.”

  Ellie thanked her with misty eyes. She and Ma Graham had always had a special relationship, as if Ma was the grandmother she did not have.

  Ma turned to Marty. “So how ya been doin’?” she asked simply. “You’ve had ya quite a winter. I’ve been thinkin’ so much on ya. First, ya had to git over the rather surprisin’ news of bein’ a mother again. Then ya had the awful hurt to bear with Clare an’ Kate. Now this. Must be a little hard to take, on top of everythin’ else.”

  Marty had known Ma would understand. Ma did not believe in talking in circles. She went straight to the heart of the matter.

  “Yeah,” she answered, carefully choosing her words. “Guess it has been a rather rough winter. My, it was hard to see Clare an’ Kate go through thet pain. But I’m so proud of both of ’em, Ma. They have both been so strong through it all. They’ve showed me a lesson or two.”

  “I could see when I saw ’em in church thet they hadn’t let it bitter ’em. I’m so glad, Marty—so glad. Bitterness is a hard burden to bear. I should know. I’ve had me my bouts with it.”

  “You?”

  “Sure did. I woulda just gone on an’ on a carryin’ it, too, iffen ya hadn’t come along when ya did an’ straightened me out.”

  “Me?”

  “You’ll never know just how set I was to sit an’ feel sorry fer myself before Christmas there. Oh, I know. I didn’t really tell ya all I was feelin’, but I was all set fer a good, long bitter spell. I felt it just wasn’t fair thet I should lose two good men in a lifetime. Some women don’t even like the one they got, I reasoned, an’ here I was with two I had loved deeply an’ I lost ’em both. Didn’t seem fair somehow. Didn’t even seem worth fightin’ to keep up a good front fer the kids. Then ya came by an’ made me realize it did still matter to my kids. I started thinkin’ on it an’ I saw somethin’ else, too. True, some women don’t like the man they got. Thet’s to their sorrow. But I had me two good companions. Now, how many women could be so blessed? An’ here I was a fussin’ ’bout it.”