Cinda's Surprise

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Cinda's Surprise Page 9

by Davis, Mary


  ❧

  On Sunday morning Martha’s howls could be heard all the way to the barn. “I ain’t wearin’ no dress.” She turned defiant eyes on Lucas. “You cain’t make me. My clothes was always good enough fer church before she come. They are just as clean as theirs.” She motioned toward her twin brothers. She rammed her hat down on her head and stormed out, planting herself in the back of the wagon.

  Cinda had taken one of her dresses that was a little small for her and altered it to fit the begrudging Martha. She figured Martha never wore a dress because she didn’t have one. Evi-dently not.

  A sad expression settled in Lucas’s eyes. “Let’s get going or we’ll be late.” He walked outside with a look that showed his heartache over what he thought he had done to his baby sister.

  Cinda decided she would spend more time with Martha and transform her into a lady for Lucas. He shouldn’t have to feel badly. He did the best he could under the circumstances he had faced. All Martha needed was a little feminine intervention. Once Martha saw how pretty she looked in a dress, she would feel differently about wearing one.

  ❧

  The sparsely populated small church building stood at one end of town. The circuit preacher came around every four weeks, weather permitting. The other weeks they gathered for a prayer meeting and sing-along. A select group of men took turns leading the prayer and singing.

  Cinda’s cheeks warmed at all the people staring at her and whispering among themselves.

  Lucas stood to lead this week’s meeting. He raised his hands to hush the group. “It seems that before we begin praising the Lord in song, I should make an introduction or none of us will have our minds where they should be. You all are wondering who this beautiful young woman is.” Lucas cupped Cinda’s elbow and brought her to her feet. The whispers of speculation started up again. “I’m proud to introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Lucas Rawlings.”

  Cinda smiled politely as the group became louder in their discussion.

  “The Lord’s been answering your prayers,” called a man from the back. Hoots and hollers came from around the room.

  Lucas quieted the group again. “Let’s get back to the reason we are here—worship. There will be plenty of time afterwards to meet my beautiful bride. Jed, will you open in prayer? Then we’ll sing ‘Amazing Grace.’ ”

  After church, the congregation crowded around her, many people speaking at once.

  “Cinda, this is my good friend Lem Dekker,” Lucas said, introducing a tall, handsome blond man.

  A scuffle off to the side cut the introductions short and shifted the group’s attention off Cinda. Three boys were rolling around in the churchyard, fighting. No, there were only two boys. . .and Martha! Apparently they had teased her, telling her she would turn into a sissy now that Cinda was around, and she was getting the better of them.

  Lucas, Trevor, and Travis pulled apart the group. The two boys gave up more easily than Martha—after all, it was her pride on the line. She kept swinging, trying to get away from Lucas as he held her by the scruff of her shirt collar, depositing her in the wagon. Cinda doubted it would be as easy as she thought to transform Martha.

  Because of Martha’s fighting, they left town before the noon meal, instead of eating in town as they normally did. Would every Sunday be this challenging?

  ❧

  That night on their after-supper stroll, Cinda brought up the painful subject of Martha. “I don’t think Martha should be out in the fields with you and your brothers.”

  “But she’s a big help. She really pulls her weight out there. We need her.”

  Cinda realized that before Martha could see herself as a girl, her brothers needed to see her as a girl. “She’s your sister, not another brother. She’ll never become a lady if you don’t start treating her like one.” Lucas was silent. “I think for starters she should be called by Martha. Marty sounds too boyish.”

  Lucas shook his head. “That will go over about as well as the dress.”

  “But it is something we can control. Do you want her rolling around on the ground fighting with boys?” she asked in earnest.

  He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  “We can’t force her into a dress; I realized that this morning, but we can get her used to the feminine sound of her name. When we get her to start thinking of herself as a girl, it will be easier to get her to look and act like a girl.” Cinda wanted to soothe his guilt.

  Lucas hesitantly nodded in agreement but didn’t look convinced. He seemed willing to give it a try, probably to undo the damage he had done.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said and caressed her cheek.

  “Thank you.” Strangely, part of her was happy to be here with him and the other part wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

  Lucas went to take care of the livestock while Cinda went inside to do the dishes.

  Trevor and Travis looked up at Cinda expectantly as she entered the house. Martha had a smug, contemptuous look on her face. Cinda looked over at the cluttered table. If she thought for one minute that they would have already done the dishes, she was fooling herself. She took a deep breath and started clearing the table.

  They thought they were so smart getting out of the chore of washing the dishes. She felt like leaving the dishes but figured they would probably leave them for her to do in the morning when they would be twice as hard to clean. She couldn’t face a dirty kitchen in the morning. Cinda didn’t so much mind the task, it was the air of power they felt they had over her. Cinda continued to stew and fume. By the time she finished, she was downright mad. She grabbed the dishpan and marched to the open kitchen door. She would heave the water as far as she could. Maybe that would make her feel better.

  The dishpan was already in motion when she saw Lucas in her line of fire. Lucas was passing by the door. It was too late. She couldn’t stop the dirty water from heading straight for her husband. Lucas looked up in time and jumped back. The water sloshed on the ground in front of him, splashing his boots but sparing the rest of him.

  At first he looked merely startled. When his shock faded away, it was replaced with what she could only determine as anger.

  Cinda was too shocked to move as Lucas strode toward her and into the kitchen. He glanced around, then yanked the dishpan from her and examined her shriveled hands. He pulled her along after him out by the fruit trees.

  “I–I’m sorry, L–Lucas. I–I didn’t know y–you were there,” she stammered as she trailed in his wake.

  He stopped and faced her. “You washed the dishes?” It was more an accusation than a question.

  Cinda nodded. “They can’t be left ’til morning.”

  “Have you been doing the supper dishes all along?” His voice was harsh and demanding.

  Cinda nodded again. She didn’t understand why he was so upset with her. She certainly hadn’t meant to douse him with the dirty water. “I–I didn’t know you were there. I wasn’t trying to throw dirty water at you.”

  “You are not to clean up the supper dishes,” he commanded gruffly.

  “But they have to be cleaned before I can prepare breakfast.”

  “Then don’t fix breakfast,” he snapped.

  “But Lucas—”

  He turned to her and put his hands gently on her shoulders. “I told my brothers and sister that it was their responsibility. I won’t have them defying me,” his voice softened, “or taking advantage of you. Now promise me you won’t do the supper dishes, no matter what.”

  Cinda searched her husband’s face. “But—”

  “Promise me.”

  Cinda reluctantly nodded. She knew a pile of dirty dishes would await her in the morning if Lucas enforced this.

  He pulled her into his warm embrace and held her close. “I’m sorry for being cross. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with Marty and the boys.”

  The next night Lucas took Cinda with him to the barn to see to the livestock. When Cinda entered the house, she looke
d at the table of dishes. What was Lucas going to do? She looked at the triumphant trio. How would he confront them? The usual expectant expressions faded quickly when they saw Lucas enter behind her. They stole glances at each other. Lucas didn’t acknowledge the table. He walked over and scooped up Daphne and handed her to Cinda. He scooped up Daniella in his arms and said, “It’s time for you two to be getting to bed.” Then he marched upstairs with a casual good night to the stunned trio.

  ❧

  As Cinda suspected, the following morning the dirty dishes were waiting for her, still scattered across the table. She rolled up her blouse sleeves preparing to dive into the chore, when Lucas came in with a pail of fresh milk. He set the pail on the kitchen table and hooked an arm around her waist. “No you don’t,” he said and guided her into the sitting room. He sat her in the rocking chair and handed her a book from the nearby shelf.

  “But Lucas, everyone will be hungry.”

  “It says in the Bible, in Second Thessalonians, chapter three, ‘if any would not work, neither should he eat.’ I believe that’s verse ten. Hunger spurs one to work harder when the reward is food.” They heard footsteps on the stairs. From where they sat, she could see Trevor and Travis stop before they reached the bottom.

  Another set of footsteps trotted down the stairs. “What’s for breakfast?” It was Martha’s voice. “I can’t smell—”

  Cinda heard an umph. Martha had evidently bumped into Trevor and Travis who stood frozen on the third step from the bottom.

  “Do you think she’s sick or something?” Travis asked.

  “They’ll never get done with the three of you gawking at them,” Lucas called from the sitting room. They spun around to see Lucas, Cinda, Daniella, and Daphne cozied up together sharing a book. Lucas continued, “Call us when breakfast is ready.” They were speechless as was Cinda. “Could you hurry it along? We’re hungry, and there’s a heap of work to be done around here today.”

  The trio went groaning into the kitchen. They knew better than to argue and understood that the sooner they got to it, the sooner they would all eat.

  Daniella and Daphne started whining about their hunger pains. Cinda’s heart went out to them. “Lucas, this isn’t fair to them.”

  “You’re right, this isn’t fair.” He turned to Daniella and Daphne. “You two go in the kitchen and let them know just how hungry you are until they have fed you.” The two girls skipped off to the kitchen, and soon the moans and groans increased.

  “Lucas, how could you?”

  Lucas smiled. “They’ll not leave the dishes for you again. I promise you that.”

  Cinda hoped that was true. Caught off guard by Lucas’s in-tense gaze, she smoothed back a lock of hair from his forehead.

  He leaned over and kissed her gently. “I dare not continue or I’ll never want to stop.”

  She smiled back at him and felt as if it had suddenly gotten warm in the house.

  The next night and every night thereafter, the supper dishes were clean when she and Lucas returned from their evening walk.

  thirteen

  Martha sulked in a kitchen chair with her arms folded across herself. Lucas had left her to help Cinda, but she would have nothing to do with it. Cinda could feel Martha’s piercing glare on her back as she finished up the breakfast dishes. She wouldn’t push Martha into doing much this first day. At least she was in a more ladylike atmosphere. One step at a time. Cinda had to take it slow.

  Cinda turned with a smile on her face. “Who would like to help me?”

  “No one,” Martha snarled.

  “I wanna help,” Daphne offered with excitement in her small voice at the same time Martha had spoken.

  “No, you don’t,” Martha snapped at the girl and glared at Cinda.

  Daphne stuck out her bottom lip and looked away.

  “Dani, Davey, and me are going outside to ride Flash.” Martha shot Cinda a gloating smile as the three left the room. Daphne looked back forlorn.

  Two could play at this game. “Since no one will help me bake the cake, I guess I will be forced to lick the bowl all by myself,” Cinda called lazily to their backs as they reached the front door. She had never made a cake before but thought since her cooking was improving, they could have fun trying. Following a recipe wasn’t as hard as she had feared.

  Daphne and Daniella came racing back. “I wanna help,” they both called out.

  “Great. But I think we need one more helper. Don’t you?” Cinda looked up at Martha, hoping she would relent and join in the fun.

  Martha narrowed her eyes and tightened her mouth into a narrow line. She flung open the door and stormed out to the barn. Cinda was sure this wasn’t the last battle with Martha. She might have resigned the twins for now, but she wasn’t through yet.

  They made a mess of the kitchen and themselves trying to make the cake, but Cinda couldn’t remember having more fun.

  She realized that with Martha around it would be a constant battle of wills for the twins’ allegiance. A battle. What was it that Dewight said about battles? “A war is won, one battle at a time.” Yes, this was definitely war, and with God she could win this war one battle at a time. Now, which battle should she approach first? It needed to be an easy one—one she knew she could win. She needed success early on to have the courage to endure.

  The most difficult battle would be Martha. She would save that one for last. If she put off doing anything with Martha, then she really would have no trouble with the girls. The most important battle she had to win was for Daphne and Daniella. They desperately needed a mother’s guidance and they already looked to Cinda quite naturally.

  Cinda marched out to the barn to free Martha from her sentence of housework. She found her lounging in the ceiling rafters. She was so far up, Cinda shuddered with fear for the girl’s life.

  “Martha, would you come down here? I would like to talk to you,” Cinda tried to be calm, but she couldn’t keep a slight quiver from her voice.

  “My name ain’t Martha, Cindy,” she called from her lofty perch.

  “Your given name is Martha, mine however, is not Cindy,” she retorted.

  “If you say so—Cinderella.”

  Cinda took a deep breath. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, she rattled off in her head. She wasn’t going to get into this just now, but she knew Martha thought of her as a work maid. “Would you please come down here so I may speak with you without shouting?”

  “If you want me, come and get me.”

  Cinda really wasn’t up to playing these games with her. But Martha wasn’t coming down until she was good and ready. “I came to tell you that you may help your brothers in the fields, if you like.”

  “What?” Martha shifted positions.

  “You heard me.”

  “If this is some sort of trick to get me down, it won’t work. Lucas would just send me back, and you know it. Then I would be in trouble with him. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I assure you this is no trick. Tell Lucas that I told you to go, and tell him I will explain my actions this evening. If he still doesn’t believe you, remind him his wife has been known to change her mind. . .often.” On that note, Cinda turned and left the barn. She wasn’t sure if Martha would go or stay up in the barn. It really didn’t matter as long as she didn’t try to come between Cinda and the twins. This was the one battle she had to win for Lucas’s sake. She couldn’t fail him. They were the reason Lucas brought her here in the first place.

  A few minutes later, Cinda saw Martha race out of the barn on Flash full speed ahead. At least she didn’t kill herself climbing down out of the rafters, but she might on that horse.

  ❧

  At supper that night the haggard work crew filed in. Cinda wondered if they even stopped at the pump before coming in. Maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to start this. No. They shouldn’t eat with all that filth on them. Cinda wondered how long it would take them. They looked around the table and
at each other.

  “We ain’t got any plates,” Trevor moaned.

  “We don’t have any plates,” Cinda corrected. “And you won’t get one as long as I can see dirt on your face, neck, and arms.” She looked over each of them and shook her head. “Nope. None of you will get a plate until you’re cleaned up properly.” Lucas had shone her how motivational food was with his family, and her cooking was actually edible now.

  “What about Lucas? Aren’t you gonna check his face and hands?” Martha asked with a smug smile. She and her brothers glanced past Cinda.

  Lucas had come in just after his brothers and sister. She could feel his presence behind her. He had heard the whole conversation.

  Oh, no! Lucas. Cinda swallowed hard. She had forgotten about him. She couldn’t very well humiliate him in front of his siblings by treating him like a child, but if she allowed him at the table unwashed, they might not take her seriously.

  Cinda took a plate from the stack she held in her hands and handed it over her shoulder to Lucas. “Your brother always washes thoroughly.” She hoped and prayed tonight he hadn’t been careless and was still grimy.

  The three filed out grudgingly. Lucas took his place at the table. Relief swept through her when she saw he was washed and clean.

  “What would you have done if I hadn’t been washed up?”

  Died of humiliation, she thought but said, “You, my husband, have always washed up properly.”

  Lucas gave her a broad smile, flashing his dimple, as she strode down the table giving a plate to Daphne and one to Daniella. The others filed back in like whipped puppies—clean whipped puppies.

  After supper Cinda explained to Lucas that too many changes would be hard on a fourteen-year-old girl. She remembered what it had been like at twelve, being uprooted and having her entire world turned upside down. She would need to go slow with Martha, very slow. She had to accept Cinda first, so for now only her name would change.

 

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