Promise of Blessing
Page 2
Josie rolled her eyes. “Where did you put the pile you ate this morning?” She turned back to the kitchen, though, and Harland began to tell one of his ludicrous stories to Helena while she ate.
Josie felt troubled. As she spooned potatoes onto another plate, she lifted up a prayer for Helena and her unborn child. It was all she could think to do. She watched her husband’s and her brother-in-law’s gentle attentions to their fragile cousin and gave thanks once again to her heavenly Father for her own situation.
Seeing Helena always made Josie felt guilty for bellyaching about her health, or the hardships of country life, or the lack of time she got to spend alone with Clae. Like Josie, Helena had been a mail-order bride, but her husband, Davis, had not been chosen on the strength of a personal recommendation from a friend, in the way that Clae had. Over time, Davis’s true character, hidden at first by charm and a handsome smile, had made itself known. He was idle, dishonest and, according to the whispered gossip, had a cruel streak that was fuelled by whisky. And now they had a child on the way. At least it seemed that Helena had been eating better lately. Perhaps their situation had improved a little. Perhaps this child would be the making of Davis Judson. She had heard of such things happening.
But even as she hoped for it, something deep in Josie’s heart warned her that it would take a miracle.
Harland was right – before he’d wolfed down his potatoes, the sunlight had all but disappeared. Soon a roll of thunder shook the little house.
Clae and Harland dashed outside to secure the animals in the barn. They returned, soaked to the bone, with a shivering Pea and one of the dogs, Rachael, who had chosen that very moment to begin delivering her litter.
Josie hurried to collect dry rags and an old blanket, admonishing the two men not to undo Beth’s hard work cleaning the floor.
Poor Rachael had some difficulties, but Clae proved exceptionally good at doing what was necessary. Helena, too, surprised Josie with her calm, assured manner as she helped Clae where she could. Soon the two of them were lining fat puppies up at their mother’s side, although Josie felt a pang when she saw Clae take away one tiny casualty.
As the afternoon wore on and the storm continued to dominate the heavens, Josie noticed Helena glancing more and more worriedly out of the window. Finally, she said, “I must go home.”
“Woah, hold up, there,” said Clae. “You can’t be thinking of walking home in that.”
“I have to be home in time for supper. Davis won’t know where I am. He’ll be angry.”
“I can’t let you do that. He’ll be more angry if you get yourself killed. When it’s passed, I’ll drive you home myself.” He placed a hand gently but firmly on her shoulder. “Come on, now, let’s have no more foolish talk.”
Helena looked unconvinced, but obediently sat back down. There was an awkward silence.
“I think what we all need,” said Clae, “is a bit of music.” He lifted his banjo from its hook on the wall and Harland disappeared to fetch his fiddle. Then together they softly played “Blest Be The Tie That Binds”.
Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne,
We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
Our comforts, and our cares.
We share our mutual woes,
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.
When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.
Josie sat opposite Clae, watching his long fingers on the strings. These times were always memorable for her, and far more rare than she would have liked. All her little worries seemed to roll away with the music.
Helena, too, visibly relaxed. She sat in Josie’s rocking chair, her eyes closed and her hand resting on her abdomen. Josie found that her own hand was doing the same, and she wondered how long it would be before she too had a little life to care for. Her illness, she thought, had delayed that happy event, but she was beginning now to look forward to it. She was already planning what clothes and linens she would make with her new machine. Perhaps her father would even be well enough to come west with Anna and meet his son-in-law and his grandson or granddaughter!
CHAPTER FOUR
Expectant
THE STORM SOON blew itself north across the plains, and Clae drove Helena home just as dusk was falling.
Josie decided to delay supper. When she heard the buggy returning, she went out to the barn to meet Clae, hoping to steal some moments alone with him. She held the lantern high as she entered, wary of reptilian guests. All was calm and as it should be.
She hung the lantern by the empty stall, so that Clae could see to rub Thanksgiving down, and walked to the neighbouring one. Christmas whinnied a welcome and, outside in her pen, the huge old sow, Lincoln, grunted in reply.
“Beautiful girl,” whispered Josie to Christmas. She held a small lump of sugar flat in her hand and offered it to the mare. The short hairs on Christmas’s snout tickled Josie’s palm as she snuffled against it. Her warm tongue curled around the sugar greedily, and she pressed forward, pushing her head close to Josie, possibly thanking her; more likely sniffing for more sugar.
Josie held her great head with one hand and rubbed her nose with the other, sweeping her dark mane neatly to one side. “Such a beautiful girl,” she repeated, pressing her cheek briefly against the white star on Christmas’s forehead.
Clae entered the barn just then, leading Thanksgiving and the buggy. He looked grave, but when he saw Josie standing with Christmas, his face broke into a wide smile. “Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes.” He began to unhitch the horse, but he kept his gaze on Josie while his fingers automatically carried out the familiar task.
She moved to help. “Sore eyes?” she asked gently. “Why?”
Clae shrugged, annoyed with himself for disturbing the moment. “That farm…” was all he said, shaking his head.
Josie’s stomach felt heavy. “Oh. I had hoped…. Helena looks so much better fed.”
“She does,” he agreed, his forehead wrinkling. He led Thanksgiving into her stall. “All I can think is that some kindly soul is offering her charity. That family needs our prayers.”
“Then we’ll pray.”
Clae paused. He put down the brush he was using on Thanksgiving and stepped out of the stall. He slipped his arms around Josie’s waist and pulled her close. Overjoyed, she laid her head on his chest, listening to his breathing. She felt safe in his strong arms.
“I don’t tell you often enough that I love you,” he said.
“You told me yesterday, when you gave me my wedding present.”
“But I want to tell you – speak the words – every single day.”
She smiled up at him, her face glowing. He lowered his head and kissed her.
After a moment, they were interrupted by the scuff of boots on the packed earth at the entrance to the barn.
“Are we having a party out here?” It was Harland.
Josie sighed. “We were,” she thought, but she said nothing, instead turning her face away from the light to hide her disappointment. Clae stepped back inside Thanksgiving’s stall, and Harland wandered over to him, leaning his tall frame casually against a post.
“I’ll go fix supper, then,” Josie murmured, rubbing briskly at an imaginary spot on her skirt. She hurried back to the house, her emotions muddled.
After the men left the following morning, Josie fed and watered Rachael, who was recovering well from her ordeal, then set about preparing the midday meal for Clae and Harland.
She felt unsettled, even irritable, but her mood seemed to give her energy. By rights, it was wash day. Perhaps she was well enough to tackle su
ch a physical task today. As she looked at the large pile, though, her enthusiasm waned. She could not help but think how much smaller it would be without Harland’s things. If there was mud or grease to be found, Harland would find it. In this he was the opposite of his brother, who liked to be as neat and clean as it was possible for a farmer to be.
Josie was surprised at herself. She loved Harland, of course, and had always appreciated his good company. She had never before resented doing housework for him as well as Clae. After all, his hard work in the fields help to provide for her. Lately, though, it was true, she had begun to feel as if she were married to both twins.
She wandered to the window to check the skies for signs of further rain, but saw instead Millie and Beth arriving in their wagon.
“Josephine, my dear, I declare I didn’t think we’d make it, the roads are so muddy!” said Millie, stepping daintily around a puddle. “What a storm! That big old tree by the general store fell down and a branch came right through the roof of Mr Wilder’s place – right into the room where he was keeping Mrs King in her coffin, all ready for her burial this afternoon, God rest her soul!”
Josie made the appropriate response with her eyebrows – getting a word in edgewise was sometimes difficult around Millie.
“Well, Mr King came to see my William, saying that it was a sign from the Lord, or maybe from the Devil – he wasn’t sure which. Now, I say you’ve got all kinds of trouble if you can’t tell one from the other!”
She embraced Josie warmly. “You’re looking much brighter. Have those boys been treating you well?” To Millie, Clae and Harland were always “those boys”.
Josie hugged Beth and then gestured for them to come inside, saying, “Come and see.” With shining eyes she led them to the new sewing machine. There followed the appropriate exclamations of rapture.
“Oh, Josephine,” said Beth, “you will teach me to use it, won’t you?”
“Of course I will!”
Beth turned to her mother. “I could make all kinds of things for the new bab—” She stopped suddenly, choking on her words.
Millie chuckled. “Well, you’ve let the cat out of the bag now.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“I’m sure our Josephine would have been the first to guess, anyway.”
Truthfully, Josie was bewildered. The new…what? Baby? Helena was the only expectant mother that Josie could think of.
Millie sank into the rocking chair. Her tiny feet didn’t even reach the floor. “Look, she’s in shock,” she said, nodding at Josie. “Well, I’d like to say that I don’t know how it happened, but I’d be lyin’.” She winked cheekily.
Suddenly Josie understood. “You’re expecting?”
“Oh, now, there’s no call to be quite so surprised. I ain’t sending out for a coffin just yet.”
It was true. Beth, the Drescher’s eldest, was nearly seventeen years old, but their youngest, Tom, was only eight, and Millie herself had barely a line on her face.
“That’s wonderful!” said Josie.
“Well, it’s early days yet but, Lord willing, it’ll arrive come new year.”
“You haven’t met our new arrivals.”
The fat little puppies were presented, with Rachael looking on, watchful but proud. Every now and then she nudged one of them with her nose, as if to say, “And this one. Have you seen this one?”
“What will you do with so many?” asked Beth.
“You can have one, if you like, when they’re old enough.” The voice came from behind them, near the front door. Harland stood there, holding his hat awkwardly. He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions.
It was only then that Josie realised it was past noon. “Heavens, my bread!” she exclaimed, and dashed to the oven. Fortunately, the loaf was only just beginning to blacken at the edges, and the meal was saved.
Beth came to help her with the final preparations. It did not escape Josie’s notice that she kept her gaze low and barely spoke a word for the rest of the visit, except to thank Clae and Harland again for the promised puppy.
Josie and Clae had just waved goodbye to Millie and Beth when Clae said, “Who’s that, now?” He looked down at Josie with a raised eyebrow. “Are you expecting a gentleman caller? Is there something I should know about?”
Josie strained her eyes and saw a lone horseman coming out from between the two low hills that acted as a gateway on the road to the McKinley farm. She clicked her tongue. “I told him not to come by today.”
Clae grinned.
She linked her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. “You can’t see who it is?”
“No, not yet. Wait, yes, I think it’s that new policeman I was telling you about. What business does he have out here?”
The rider came closer and Josie could make out a heavy brow and a luxurious moustache under his well-worn hat. He entered the barnyard, dismounted in one smooth movement and led his horse towards them.
Clae stepped forward to shake his hand. “How d’ye do, sir? You’re most welcome.”
“Thank ye,” he replied, giving Clae’s hand a firm shake. “Most kind.”
Clae turned to Josie. “This is my wife, Josephine McKinley. Josie, this is Mr Wyatt Earp, the new deputy.”
Mr Earp raised his hand to the brim of his hat and nodded at Josie. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”
“If you follow me,” continued Clae, “I’ll show you where you can water your horse.”
“Thank you, Mr McKinley. I won’t stay long. I was hoping to have a word with you and your brother.”
“I’ll get Harland for you,” said Josie, turning back to the house.
She dispatched Harland, then sat and pretended to work the sewing machine so that she could watch the three men surreptitiously out of the front window.
They stood together in the shade of the chicken coop, one dark head and two golden ones bent in grave discussion. Harland chewed on his unlighted pipe, as he was in the habit of doing when he was listening intently. Clae kept rubbing his hand through the front of his hair, pushing his hat further and further back on his head. There was much nodding and gesturing. The gravity was soon broken, though, by Pea, who tried to chew on Mr Earp’s bootlaces. She was swiftly pulled away by Clae, but Mr Earp just smiled, his moustache twitching in amusement. Very soon afterwards, he departed and the brothers came back to the house.
“—if I had to make a guess, but it’s not right to voice an assumption and tarnish the man’s name further,” Harland was saying as the door opened.
“Sure,” said Clae. “It could be somebody from out of town. We’d do best to keep a closer eye on things, though.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Did something happen?” asked Josie.
Clae hung up his hat, his face unusually serious. “Mr Earp says that folks around here and in town are reporting their stores stolen. Mostly food, and sometimes something even more valuable. He’s investigating; wanted to know if we’d missed anything lately.”
Josie swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Do you think…?” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Clae and Harland exchanges glances.
“Well…” said Clae, “I’m afraid that’s what we were thinking, but we didn’t say so to Mr Earp. It don’t feel right to accuse a man like that, what with so many outsiders moving through Wichita every day – who knows what they get up to – but….”
He trailed off. There was a thoughtful silence.
Finally, Josie got up and laid her hand reassuringly on Clae’s arm. “Why don’t I make us some coffee, before you two head back out?”
“We won’t say no to that.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Outing
AS JOSIE AND Clae were preparing to turn in that night, Josie passed on Millie’s news. A pang of envy began to rise as she spoke, but she pushed it back down, disgusted with herself.
Clae gave a surprised whistle. “Seven children in
that little house,” he said. “Millie will be looking to see Beth settled as fast as she can.”
At first Josie said nothing, then suddenly she burst out, “What on earth is Harland playing at?”
Clae held a finger to his lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “but I just don’t understand him. If he’s not in love with her, why has he always singled her out? She’s been clearly smitten with him since the day I met her, but lately she’ll barely look his way. Has something passed between them?”
“I confess, I have no idea. Whenever I’ve tried to bring up the subject, Harland waves it off like I’m just teasing. The two of them practically ignored each other in town; then he promised her a puppy. I can’t make heads nor tails of it.”
“He is going to lose her if he doesn’t declare himself, and soon.”
“I guess she is full young to be marrying….”
“You know as well as I that she’s wise well beyond her years.”
“I do know that. What I’m not sure of is whether Harland is ready for marriage.”
Josie sighed and sank down onto the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples.
Clae put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “You’ve done too much these past couple of days,” he said. “How’s about, day after tomorrow, if the roads have dried out some, we go driving out to the river? I can afford to take a day off before the harvest. What do you say?”
Josie’s heart lifted immediately. A whole day alone with Clae!
“That sounds just like heaven,” she said, taking his hand. “Yes. Please!”
“Then we’d best ask our heavenly Father for a heavenly day.”