by Janette Oke
“Yeah, thought you’d never git here, Pa,” said Clare, taking the rough farm towel and winding it up to snap at Arnie.
“The boys jest now came in,” Ellie informed her pa, “so I guess you haven’t kept anyone waitin’ any.”
The men, finished with their washing and fooling around, took their places at the table. Marty moved her chair into position, and Ellie brought the platter of hot bacon from the stove. Marty looked at the empty place. “Luke,” she said. “Luke isn’t here yet.”
“Still sleepin’?” asked Clare, knowing that Luke did enjoy a good sleep-in on occasion.
“He’ll be here in a minute,” said Ellie. “I think he’d like fer us to jest go ahead.”
“But—” Marty protested, and just then the screen door banged and in came Luke, his hair disheveled by the wind and his face flushed from hurrying. Marty’s heart gave a skip at the sight of her “baby.” Luke was her gentle one, her peacemaker and dream-builder. Luke, fifteen, was smaller than the other boys and had serious and caring soft brown eyes. Marty felt she had never seen another person whose eyes looked as warm and compassionate as her little Luke’s.
“Sorry,” he said under his breath and slid into his place at the table.
Clark’s love for the boy showed in his simple nod. “Would you like to wash?”
“I can wait until we pray; then the food won’t be gittin’ cold.”
“Reckon the food will wait well enough. Go ahead.”
Luke hurried from the table, inspecting his hands as he went. They were covered with red stains. He was soon back, and the family sat quietly as Clark read the morning Scripture portion and then led in prayer.
His prayer of the morning included a special thanks for the mother of the home and his helpmate over the years. Clark reminded the Lord that Marty was truly worthy of His special blessing. Marty remembered an earlier prayer, so long ago when she was a hurting, bewildered, and reluctant bride. Clark had asked the Father to bless her then, too. God had. She had felt Him with her through the years, and these dear children about her table were evidence of His blessing.
After the prayer ended and the food was passed, Clare looked over at Luke between bites of bacon and eggs. “So, little brother. What ya been up to so early in the mornin’?”
Luke squirmed a bit. “Well, I jest wanted Ma to have some strawberries fer her birthday breakfast, but boy—were they little and hard to find this year! Guess it ain’t been warm enough yet.” He held out a small cup of tiny strawberries.
Marty’s throat constricted and her eyes filled again with tears. Her sleepyhead had crawled out early to get her some birthday strawberries. She remembered back to when Missie had first started the tradition of “strawberries for Ma’s birthday breakfast.” After Missie had left, the children had pooled their efforts for a few years. Then with the breaking of the pastureland that had housed the best strawberry patch, the tradition had drifted away. And now dear Luke had tried valiantly to revive it again.
Clare reached over and roughed his younger brother’s hair. His eyes said, You’re all right, ya know that, kid, but his mouth was too busy with Ellie’s breakfast muffins.
“Ya should have told me,” Arnie whispered. “I’da helped ya.”
Marty looked around the kitchen at the four children still sharing their table, and her heart filled with joy and overflowed with love. The smile she shared with Clark needed no words of explanation.
TWO
Birthday Dinner
“Thet was a lovely dinner, Clae,” Marty remarked, delicately catching the last traces of cake crumbs from her lips with the tip of her tongue. Clare’s satisfied groan as he held his full stomach was eloquent. Nandry’s Josh laughed.
As the plates were pushed back and another round of coffee poured, the pleasant clamor of visiting began. It seemed that everyone had something to say all at once, including the children. Clark held up his hands for silence and eventually drew 19 the attention of even the youngest in the group.
“Hold it,” he chuckled, “ain’t nobody gonna hear nobody in all this racket. How ’bout a little organization here?”
Nandry’s oldest, Tina, giggled. “Oh, Grandpa, how can one org’nize chatter?”
“Can I go now? Can I go play with Uncle Arnie?” Andrew interrupted, the only boy in Nandry and Josh’s family.
“Just before we all leave the table and scatter who knows where, how about if we let Grandma open up her birthday gifts?” suggested Clae.
“Oh yes! Let’s. Let’s!” shouted the children, clapping their hands. Presents were always fun, even if they were for someone else.
Grandma Marty was given the chair of honor, and the gifts began to arrive, carried in and presented by various family members. The children shared scraps of artwork and pictures. Tina had even hemmed, by hand stitch, a new handkerchief. Nandry and Clae, presenting gifts from their families, laughed when they realized they had both sewn Marty new aprons. Clare and Arnie had gone together and purchased a brand-new teapot, declaring that now she could “git rid of thet ol’ one with the broken spout.” Not too likely was Marty’s silent comment. I’ll plant spring flowers in it and put it in the kitchen window. But aloud she admired the fancy new one.
Ellie’s gift to her mother was a delicate cameo brooch, and Marty suspected that Clark had contributed largely to its purchase. Luke was last. His eyes showed both eagerness and embarrassment as he came slowly forward. It was clear he was just a bit uncertain as to how the others would view his gift.
“I’m afraid it didn’t cost nothin’,” he murmured.
“Thet isn’t what gives a gift its value,” Marty replied, both curious and concerned.
“I know you always said thet, but some folk … well … they think thet ya shouldn’t give what cost ya nothin’.”
“Ah,” said Clark, seeming to realize what was bothering the boy, “but the cost is not always figured in dollars and cents. To give of yerself sometimes be far more costly than reachin’ into one’s pocket fer cash.”
Luke smiled and looked more at ease as he pushed a clumsy package toward Marty.
“Ya said thet ya liked ’em, so …” He shrugged and backed away as his mother reached for the gift.
Heavy and bulky, it was wrapped in brown paper and tied at the top with store twine. Marty was trying to imagine what kind of a gift could come in such a package. She untied the twine with hurried fingers and let the brown paper fall stiffly to the floor. Before her eyes lay two small shrubs, complete with roots and part of the countryside in which they had grown. Marty recognized them at once as small bushes from the hill country. One summer when she and Clark had taken the youngsters into the hills for a family outing, she had exclaimed over them when in full bloom. How beautiful they had looked in their dress of scarlet blossoms. She caught her breath as she visualized the beautiful shrubs blooming in her own garden.
“Do you think they’ll grow okay, Pa?” Luke’s anxiety was clear in his voice. “I tried to be as careful as I could in diggin’ ’em up. Tried to be sure to keep from hurtin’ the roots an’—”
“We’ll give ’em the best possible care an’ try to match their home-growin’ conditions as much as possible,” Clark assured Luke, then continued under his breath, “—iffen I have to haul their native soil from them hills by the wagonload.”
Marty couldn’t stop the tears this time. It was so much like Luke. He had traveled many miles and had gone to a great deal of effort and care in order to present to her the shrubs he knew she loved. And yet he had stood in embarrassment before his family, his eyes begging them to please try to understand his gift and the reason for his giving it. She pulled him gently to her and hugged him close. Luke wasn’t too fond of motherly kisses in public places, so Marty refrained from any further attention.
“Thank you, son,” she said quietly. “I can hardly wait fer them to bloom.”
Luke grinned and moved back into the family circle.
All eyes then turned
to Clark. It had become a family tradition that the final gift to be given at such family gatherings was always from the head of the home. Clark cleared his throat now and stood to his feet.
“Well, my gift ain’t as pretty as some thet sit here. It’ll never bloom in years to come, either. But it does come with love, an’ I hope it be somethin’ thet truly gives ya pleasure. No fancy package—jest this here little envelope.”
He handed the plain brown envelope to Marty. She turned it over in her hand, looking for some writing that would indicate what she was holding. There was nothing.
“Open it, Gram’ma,” came a small voice, quickly echoed by many others.
Marty carefully tore off one corner, slit the envelope open, and let the contents fall into her lap—two pieces of paper and on them words in Clark’s handwriting. Marty picked up the first. Aloud she read the message. “This is for the new things that you be needing. Just let me know when and where you want to do the shopping.”
“Ya should have read the other one first,” interjected Clark.
Marty picked up the second slip of paper and read, “Arrangements have been made for tickets on the train to Missie. We leave—”
Tickets to go to Missie! All Marty’s recent thoughts and longings centering on their daughter so many miles away, all those “if onlys” crowded in around her. She was going to see Missie again. “Oh, Clark!” was all she could manage, and then she was in his arms sobbing for the wonder of it—the pure joy of the promise the tickets held.
When she finally could control herself, she stepped back from Clark’s embrace. With a joyful heart but trembling lips, Marty said apologetically to her family, “I think I need me a little walkin’ time, an’ then we’re gonna sit us down an’ talk all ’bout this… .” She did well to get that far without more tears, and she left the cozy kitchen filled with the family she loved and walked out into the June sunshine.
Here at Clae’s there was no place in particular to go, so she simply wandered aimlessly around the yard. The familiar trees and little spring behind her own house had been her refuge many times over the years when she had some thinking to do. Well, Clae’s trees would suffice, she told herself. She tried to collect her scattered, excited thoughts. She was going to see Missie! She and Clark would travel those many miles on the train. No wagons—no slow days of wind and rain. Only padded seats and chugging engines eating up the distance between her little girl and herself. Oh, she could hardly wait! She held up the note she still clutched in her hand and read it aloud again. “Arrangements have been made for tickets on the train to Missie. We leave as soon as you can be ready to go. Love, Clark.”
As soon as you can be ready to go. Oh my. There was so much to be done. So many things to prepare and take with them. There was her wardrobe. She would need new things for traveling. Why, her blue hat would never do to wear out among stylish people, and her best dress had a small snag near the hem that still showed even though she had mended it carefully. Oh my. How would she ever—? And then Marty remembered the second note. This is for the new things that you be needing. Just let me know when and where you want to do the shopping.
“Oh my,” Marty said aloud. Clark had thought of everything, it appeared. “Oh my,” she repeated and quickly changed direction back to Clae’s kitchen. She must talk to the girls. They were far more aware of the present fashion trends, and they knew what stores carried the needed articles, and they knew where she should go to do her shopping and when the stages ran between the towns. “Oh my,” she said again in a flurry, “I do have me so much to do. Oh my.”
THREE
Planning
The days that followed were full of excited thinking and planning. Nandry and Clae went shopping with Marty for yard goods in their small town and then pored over design sketches that Clae made in an effort to achieve fashionable gowns. It was finally concluded that a trip to a larger center would be necessary if Marty was to be presentable to the outside world on a cross-country train trip. But when could she work that outing in to this busy time? Though her wardrobe consumed much of Marty’s time and attention, there were other matters that weighed heavily on her mind, as well. One of them was the fact that Clare had wedding plans. As yet, a definite date for the marriage had not been set, but how could they go way off west not knowing? Marty held her tongue, but she did try to “plant the seed” in Clare’s thinking that it would be most helpful if he and his young lady could finalize a date. Clare understood the subtle suggestion and told Marty he would see what he could do.
Marty was also anxious about the packing. It wasn’t her own things that gave her worries, but every day she thought of something new that surely Missie and Willie and their young family might need. How much dare she accumulate before the railroad company—or Clark—would declare she had far too much baggage? She sighed as she tried to sort and select the most important items.
Clark occasionally tried to draw out an estimated day for departure from Marty. She knew a decision must be made. Clark had many responsibilities of his own that needed to be assigned to others. He couldn’t properly sort them out until Marty had given him some idea as to when she would be ready to go. She didn’t know whether to hope that Clare would set the wedding date for the immediate future or postpone it until they were sure to be back.
Then, of course, there were the other children. True, Ellie was capable of caring for the household, but it seemed like a big job to put on such young, slender shoulders. Marty conveniently forgot that at Ellie’s age she had already been a married woman.
Yet Marty’s heart was most concerned for Luke, her gentle youngest. How she wished they could take him with them. At the same time, she was afraid to suggest it, even to Clark. What if Luke did go, and what if he decided that he liked Missie’s West, and what if he decided not to come back when Clark and Marty returned home? No, she’d best leave Luke safely where he was. She had no desire to have another child settled so far away from home.
So Marty spent her days musing and fretting. She tried not to let it show, but it must have. Nandry and Clae made arrangements for the care of their children and planned a trip to the city by local stagecoach for shopping. Ellie was invited to go along. With their loving but firm counsel, the necessary items were decided on, purchased, and prepared for travel. Marty was afraid she was spending an inappropriate amount of money, but she did rather enjoy this unusual extravagance. She also bought a few pretty things to take to Missie, as well. Who knew whether Missie had opportunity to shop since leaving her home?
Clare discussed marriage plans with his sweet Kate and, with the help of her mother, they were able to arrive at a suitable date. They wisely agreed that a hurried wedding would not be a good start for their marriage, so August 27 was chosen. Clark and Marty would have no problem being home by then. Clare and Kate planned to live in Clark’s first little log home, so Clare would spend the intervening time preparing the place for occupancy, and Kate would spend her time on new curtains and floor rugs.
Ellie asked many questions and advice on the running of the home and the tending of the garden—questions to which she already knew the answers, but she probably knew it would help her mother depart with greater peace of mind if she explained it all again. Ellie assured Marty that she was looking forward to the experience, and Marty felt that it might truly be an adventure for the girl. Nandry and Clae promised to lend a hand if ever she needed assistance.
Luke took to making subtle observations about the coming separation. He suggested that it would be good for all of them to spend some time on their own and learn some independence. He pointed out to Marty that he would be spending most evenings studying for the entrance exams for college the coming fall, and he would have very little time for socializing even with family members. The additional quiet of the house during their absence would be very helpful in giving him extra study time, he said. Marty sensed he was trying to put her mind at ease about going off and leaving him, and she appreciated his concern.<
br />
Many times a day Marty went through the process of mentally sorting what she wished to take. She eyed her garden, her canned goods, her sewing materials, her chicken coop—she even eyed the milk cows. She shook her head. How in the world would she ever decide? At length, she knew she could never be sensible, so she asked for help from her family in the final decisions. Eventually it was narrowed down to a list over which Clark did not ruefully shake his head.
At length Clark was given the go-ahead. He could set a date for departure. It seemed that within a few more days, Marty could be ready to go.
“When are ya leavin’?” asked Ma Graham when they had a minute together after the church service.
Marty was relieved that she actually had a date. “Well, we take the stage out from town on Wednesday, and go on over to catch the train out of the city the next mornin’,” she replied.
“Ain’t ya excited?” Ma asked, but didn’t need nor wait for an answer. “My, I miss thet girl of yourn so much myself thet I can jest imagine how yer feelin’. Give Missie a big kiss an’ hug fer me. I have a little somethin’ here thet I want ya to take on out to her. I didn’t dare send nothin’ big—ya havin’ so much of yer own stuff to tend to, so I jest made her a little lace doily fer her table.”
Marty hugged Ma warmly, the tears in her eyes.
“Missie will ’preciate it so much,” she whispered in a choked voice.
And so the packing of the crates, cases, and trunk was finished up, the clothes for travel carefully laid out, and the scattered items and thoughts collected. Many last-minute instructions, some necessary and some only for Marty’s sake, were given to the three boys and Ellie. There was some measure of assurance in just reviewing them over and over.
Clare and Arnie had been farming right along with Clark for a number of years, so Clark had no doubts about their ability to take care of things. They each had a piece of their own land to farm now, too, but they could handle it all in Clark’s absence. They had been instructed to get help if ever they needed it, and Luke was anxious to provide all the help his studying time would allow.