by Morgan, Kit
Within moments, she was back downstairs, the bundle in her arms. “There, there; are you hungry?”
“Oh, what a little angel!” Martha said as she gazed at the child.
“Looks just like my great Aunt Matilda,” commented Mercy as she studied the tiny face. “She went on to be the wife of a diplomat.”
“Really?” asked Martha. “How fascinating! Isn’t it wonderful to think of what children will be like when they grow up? I always pictured Morgan as a banker. But he likes the mercantile.”
“I’ve always picture Garrett as a clergyman, but he’s going to be a lawyer.”
“Well, you can’t have everything,” Martha commented.
Winnie giggled. She had to admit, her ‘benefactors’ were nice to have around at a time like this. And what a time it was! They brought food to last them through the week, candy for the children, and spent the morning mending, cleaning, and helped Winnie do the laundry while Mr. Tindle saw to the livestock. Before any of them knew it, it was almost suppertime.
“I’ve got the animals fed, and took a walk around. Looks like Clarence up and left in the middle of his plowing. At least he turned the horse loose.”
“Such a shameful thing to do,” said Martha. “We’ll have to inform the sheriff.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Mr. Tindle. “Miss Longfellow, do you think you could stay out here a few more days and look after the children and their mother? I know she’s had a shock, and I’ll have the doctor come out and take a look at her tomorrow. The way I see it, she could hire someone to finish the plowing and what planting needs to be done; at least enough to help her get through the winter.”
“What happens if she can’t?” asked Winnie.
“I hate to think it, but these youngins of hers will end up in an orphanage somewhere, their ma in an institution.”
Winnie gasped. “Oh, no …”
“I’m afraid there ain’t no help for it, if’n she can’t take care of them or herself.”
Winnie closed her eyes. “I’ll stay; don’t worry. Please, just get the doctor out as soon as you can.”
“We’ll do that,” he said. They gathered up the now-empty boxes they’d brought, and left. With food in the root cellar and larder, Winnie could take proper care of the children; but what about Mrs. Edmonson? What if she never recovered from the shock of her husband abandoning them? What help would Winnie be then?
Thirteen
Two days went by, and Winnie found herself growing more attached to the children with each passing moment. She cooked, cleaned, mended, scolded, read to, fed, and bathed them; and, to her surprise, loved every minute of it. She wasn’t sure what she’d do when she was no longer needed.
“I’ll check in on her tomorrow, Miss Longfellow,” the doctor said as he came down the stairs.
Winnie looked up from the baby in her arms, and nodded. “Is she better today?”
“Yes; she’s very coherent, and asking for Ella.”
“Is it all right to take her up?”
“Of course, but make sure she doesn’t tire herself out. A shock such as the one she’s had is enough to drain the life out of anybody. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting. Thank you.” She walked him to the door and let him out. Now that that was done, she took Ella upstairs to the waiting arms of her mother. Mrs. Edmonson looked much better than she had the day before and, for that, Winnie was grateful.
“I can’t thank you enough for staying,” Mrs. Edmonson said as Winnie sat in a chair near the bed. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I hope I’m not keeping you from your other job.”
“Not at all; Mrs. Smythe understands, and has been all too happy to help.”
“She’s a dear, that one. I hope I can repay her and the Tindles for their kindness.” She kissed the top of Ella’s head and sighed. “I hope Pastor Luke comes by today. I need to thank him for all the prayers.”
“Prayers?” Winnie asked.
“I know he’s been praying; it’s what he does.”
Winnie thought a moment. Did Luke even know what had happened? How could he not? Everyone in town probably knew at this point, unless … “Mrs. Edmonson, do you want folks to know what happened? Did you tell the doctor or the others … not to say anything?”
The woman looked at her, then bowed her head in the same way Winnie had seen Elizabeth do. “I told doc and the Tindles that I’d appreciate it if folks don’t know just yet.” She looked at Winnie. “I guess that’s why I ain’t seen Pastor Luke come by since Amos left.”
“He doesn’t know … yes,” Winnie agreed. “That explains it.”
“But don’t let me keep you from him.”
“There’s no worry of that; I’m sure he has plenty of things to … keep him busy.” Winnie stood. “Will you be all right if I go downstairs and check on the children? I also need to take the laundry off the line.”
“Go on; I’ll be fine.”
Winnie smiled at her, and left the room. She needed to get past this Luke Adams business once and for all! He was courting Eva in the hopes of marrying her, and that’s all there was to it. She knew that Mercy, Martha, and Maude wouldn’t say anything unless Mrs. Edmonson said it was okay. They were probably hoping Amos Edmonson would come back, take up his post as husband and father, and get back to living his life. But what if he didn’t? Even so, one would think the town pastor, who was heading up the Fourth of July Celebration, would at least inquire as to where she’d been all this time. Wouldn’t he?
She went into the parlor and sat. Mr. Edmonson had to come back! And then she could leave. It was the only logical thing to do.
She swallowed hard, as if it would keep her from thinking the obvious. After all, how could she continue to live in this town, while the man she was in love with was married to someone else? The answer was simple. She couldn’t. “Oh Winnie,” she muttered to herself. “Why’d you have to fall in love?”
* * *
Luke wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, took a deep breath, and knocked on the Smythes’ door. After a few moments, Mr. Smythe answered. “Good evening, Pastor Luke. What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see Miss Longfellow.”
“I’m afraid she’s not here.”
“Not here? Why not?”
“On account of the baby, mostly.”
“Baby?” he said with a squeak of alarm. “What baby?”
“Mrs. Edmonson’s. She’s been out there the last few days taking care of the children. I figured the doc must’ve told you.”
“No, what’s happened?”
“Come inside, I’ll fill you in. I know Mrs. Edmonson would appreciate a visit from you right now.”
Luke followed him inside. They went into the kitchen, where Mr. Smythe poured him a cup of coffee, and they sat at the table. “Amos has run off,” Mr. Smythe stated.
“What?! He left?”
“Yep, right in the middle of plowing his north field, from the looks of it. Unhitched the horse, tossed the harness on the ground, and just walked away.”
“Has anyone seen him?”
Mr. Smythe shook his head. “No one. Your Miss Longfellow’s been working herself to the bone out there taking care of all those youngins. I’m happy Mrs. Edmonson has someone to do it. She’s praying Amos will come back, and no one will be the wiser.”
Luke set his cup on the table and took a deep breath. “I had no idea. Why wasn’t I informed?”
“Like I said, I figured the doc would tell you; he probably figured I would.”
Luke closed his eyes a moment and nodded. “It happens. But at least I now know . I’ll head out there right away.”
“It’s almost dark; you might want to wait until morning.”
Luke glanced absently around the kitchen. “You have a point, but … are they all right out there? How is Mrs. Edmonson taking it?”
“Pretty bad; it’s the reason Miss Longfellow went out there to stay. The first couple of d
ays, Mrs. Edmonson couldn’t even talk.”
Luke closed his eyes and shook his head. “I wish I had known. I was there earlier in the week with Miss Brock to check on them. She’d seemed fine when I left.”
“She told Winnie she didn’t want to say anything that might ruin your happy moment.”
“Happy moment?”
“Sure; courting Eva.”
“Courting Eva?”
Mr. Smythe eyed him. “You are courting her, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“Well, according to Mrs. Brock, you are; she was in the mercantile this morning telling the Tindles all about it.”
Luke slapped a hand against his forehead. “Oh, good grief!”
“If you ain’t courtin’ Eva Brock, then why is Mrs. Brock making such a fuss over you two?”
“Oh trust me; she’s made it clear she’d like nothing better than to have me as a son-in-law. But I have no intention of courting Eva.”
“It’s no secret, son, that you two have been spending a lot of time together.”
“I know, to plan the Fourth of July celebration. Winnie … er … Miss Longfellow was to assist me, but your wife got sick and …”
Mr. Smythe sat back in his chair and smiled. “Ahhh, I think I’m getting the picture here. And so Eva stepped in to help.”
“Yes, and noticed I … wasn’t able to concentrate on our work. It was obvious I had something else on my mind.”
“Miss Longfellow, perhaps?”
Luke took a deep breath, looked the older man in the eye, and nodded. “I did something I shouldn’t have, but …I’m glad I did.”
“What did you do?”
Luke shrugged. “I kissed Miss Longfellow.”
Mr. Smythe let out a laugh and slapped his knee. “Did you now? Well don’t that beat all? Ha!”
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but after working with her for a couple of days at the church, and then all day at the Edmonsons’ last week, I realized I needed someone like her in my life. Sounds incredible, but there it is.”
Mr. Smythe continued to chuckle. “So, you’ve got a spark for Miss Longfellow? Does she know?”
“I’m sure she thinks I’m a cad. I haven’t had a chance to talk with her. When I do, I’m afraid I’ll say something else to upset her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me. I want to court her, but I’m not positive she’ll let me at this point.”
Mr. Smythe sighed. “Son, you better get yourself out to that farm first thing in the mornin’ and explain yourself.”
“I know. But what if she’s not interested?”
“There’s that chance, but you won’t know until you take it.”
“Eva says the same thing. She’s been badgering me to talk with Miss Longfellow for days. In fact, she was supposed to break the news to her mother that she has no interest in me whatsoever.”
Mr. Smythe grimaced. “Oh, son. That’s not going to be pretty.”
“No, I should say not. But if Eva can face her mother, I can face Miss Longfellow.” He let out a weary sigh. “You know, I almost wish she were one of those mail-order brides. There’d be no misunderstandings; you both know why the woman is there, and no lengthy courting, and … well you know. I do believe if Miss Longfellow had stepped off the stage as my mail-order bride, I’d have had no problem marrying her. At least, not after getting to know her for a few days. Funny how that’s all it would take …”
A gasp came from the hall. The men turned toward the sound, and craned their necks to see who was there. “That you, Maude?” Mr. Smythe called. The sound of feet racing up the stairs came to them, and they looked at each other. “She ain’t been herself lately, bein’ sick and all. Pay her no mind.”
Luke nodded, picked up his cup, and sipped his coffee.
* * *
Maude paced the floor of her bedroom. She had to see Mercy and Martha, and tell them they were right all along! Pastor Luke wanted to marry Winnie! “Oh, how exciting! They’ll be hitched before we know it!”
She went to a chair where she’d tossed her shawl, snatched it up, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She then tiptoed into the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door, being careful to close it as quietly as possible. She giggled with delight as she headed down the street to the other end of town where Mercy lived. She had to stop a few times, to keep her coughing under control, but knew she was over the worst of her summer sickness. Besides, no cold was going to keep her from sharing the good news with her friends!
It didn’t take her long to reach her destination, and soon she was knocking on Mercy Vander’s door. Betsy opened it with her usual aplomb, and looked Maude over with a suspicious eye. “Evening, Mrs. Smythe.”
Maude was panting after her rush to get there. “Betsy … tell … Mercy!”
“Mmmhmm, and what might this situation be that calls for it?”
“Oh stop that; I need to see Mercy!”
Betsy shook her head and moved aside. “She’s in the parlor.”
Maude brushed past her. “Oh, Merccccyyyy!”
Mercy looked up from her embroidery, eyes wide. “Maude, is that you? Good heavens; what’s the matter?”
“It’s Pastor Luke! I have the most wonderful news!”
Mercy’s eyes lit up, and she tossed her embroidery to the side. “Yes, yes? What is it?”
“Well, Pastor Luke …”
“Yes,” Mr. Vander boomed from beside the fireplace. “What is this about Pastor Luke?”
Maude and Mercy froze. “Oh, dear,” whispered Mercy. “I quite forgot Horace was in the room.”
Maude slowly raised her face to Mercy’s husband, who had moved across the room and now stood hovering over them. “Well?” he asked. “Speak up! You don’t look like a winded horse for nothing!”
“Horace! Don’t speak to Maude like that, not when she … er …” Her eyes darted to Maude, who stood tight-lipped. “Did you really run all the way here?”
“I most certainly did not. I walked as fashionably fast as I was able.”
“There; you see, Horace?” Mercy said. “She does not resemble a winded horse.” She turned back to Maude. “But you do look like you could use a cup of …”
“Tea, Mrs. Smythe?” Betsy asked, cutting her employer off.
Maude looked at the tea tray in her hands, then at Mercy. “How does she do that?”
Mercy smiled in triumph. “It’s why we keep her, dear.”
Maude nodded for Betsy to pour as she sat next to Mercy. “Pastor Luke wants to court Winnie.”
“He does?” Mercy said with clap of her hands. “Why that’s wonderful news! Did you hear that, Horace?”
“Well, what do you know about that? Our new pastor has found himself a wife in our little town! I wonder if this means I’ll have to re-write my speech.” He turned and went to the desk on the other side of the room.
Betsy shook her head and eyed Maude and Martha. “I heard tell he was gonna court Miss Brock.”
“Well you heard wrong!” Maude said. “He’s at my house right now, talking with Jonathan, and told him he …” she peeked past Mercy and watched as Horace sat at the desk, and rifled through a stack of papers. She then whispered, “He told Jonathan it would have been easier if she had been a mail-order bride!”
Mercy’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as her eyes opened wide. “We were right!” she whispered back.
Betsy shook her head at the remark. “Thank Heaven for small miracles.”
Mercy narrowed her eyes, and then smiled. “You hate having to admit when we’re right.”
Betsy smirked back. “Yeah, but you and your friends ain’t right that often.”
“Why do you put up with her, again?” Maude asked.
Mercy waved Betsy away. “Never mind about that; what else?” she asked Maude.
“He’s gonna head out there tomorrow morning, and talk with her!”
“Wonderful! And Horace and I were planning to pay a visit; we have a financial co
ntribution for the children. I’m sure it will help the family out until Mrs. Edmonson is well enough to decide what to do.”
“Oh, you’re such a dear, Mercy.” Maude said with a smile. She sipped her tea, and sighed. “Looks like everything’s going to turn out just as we planned.”
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I can’t wait to tell Martha.”
“Me neither. They always sit down to supper about this time, so I didn’t intrude. I came here straight away, to tell you.”
Mercy sighed with contentment. “Another job well done. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!”
Betsy watched them sip their tea. “Thank the Lord miracles do happen.”
Fourteen
“Pa!” Gabe cried as he came running down the stairs! “Winnie! It’s Pa! I just saw him from my window! He’s crossing the field! He’s back!”
Winnie stared after the boy as he ran out the kitchen’s back door to greet his father. She gripped the worktable where she’d been kneading dough, and swallowed hard. Amos Edmonson had come home.
Within moments, Gabe burst through the door, his father right behind, and went straight to the staircase in the front hall. “Ma!” he yelled, and then ran up the stairs.
Mr. Edmonson looked terrible. He had almost a week’s worth of whiskers on his face, his hair hadn’t been combed in at least that long, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “I done an awful thing. A mighty awful thing …” he rasped. “You the same woman took care of my family with Pastor Luke?”
Winnie nodded. “Yes; I’ve been here all week looking after them while they waited … for you to come home.”
He bit his lower lip and shook his head, tears in his eyes. “She … she might not want me back. My wife … she’s got every right to send me away.”
“No, Mr. Edmonson; she’s not going to send you away, I promise.”