Love takes wing (Love Comes Softly #7)

by Janette Oke

  "She likes the West?"

  "More than the West. She's found a young man out there," Belinda said simply.

  "Is she thinkin' of marryin'?" Rand asked in surprise. "She hasn't said . . . but I'm thinkin' she is."

  "Isn't she younger than you?"

  "A little."

  "Do her folks think she's ready to be married?"

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  Belinda laughed softly, a complete change from her former mood. "Do one's folks ever think a girl's ready to be married?" she joked.

  Rand smiled, then surprised her by asking, "Do you .. . you think she's ready?"

  "I don't know," responded Belinda slowly. "She was always kind of flighty--carefree--but she sounds more serious now. Maybe she is."

  They walked in silence for a few more moments.

  "Are you?" asked Rand quietly.

  "Me? What?" pondered Belinda. She had entirely lost the thread of the conversation.

  "Ready fer marriage?" he said simply.

  "Oh my, no!" exclaimed Belinda, her cheeks flushing and her composure fleeing. "I. . . I haven't even thought on such a thing. I'm nowhere near ready. I . . . I . . ."

  Rand did not press her but, seeing her obvious embarrassment, quickly changed the conversation.

  "Luke has him a nice house. It has lots of special features. Thet's the kind of houses I want to build--'stead of just straight box type. Wonder iffen he'd be so kind as to let me peek in his attic someday to study the rafter structure."

  Belinda was surprised at the sharp turn in subject but managed to say she was sure Luke wouldn't object. His house had been purchased, along with the practice, from the late Dr. Watkins.

  With the talk back on safer ground, Belinda regained her composure and enjoyed the rest of the walk home.

  She thanked Rand for the meal and the lovely evening, but she did not extend an invitation to tea.

  "May I see ya on the weekend?" Rand asked, but Belinda was quick to turn him down.

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  "I go to the farm for the weekends," she said. "It's the only time I get to see the folks."

  "I understand," he said kindly. "Then perhaps I will see ya in church on Sunday"

  Belinda nodded.

  After he had left, Belinda chided herself for not being more hospitable. He was a fine young man and she could do with friendship. But why, why, she asked herself as she pressed cool hands to warm cheeks, why do I get the feeling that he is thinking differently about it than I am? Was there more to his simple question concerning her preparedness for marriage than he had expressed? Surely it was all in her head. She determined to put it from her thinking completely.

  Rand was in his usual place in church on Sunday with a row of neighborhood young men and did not greet Belinda more than by doffing his hat and wishing her a pleasant good morning.

  She saw him chatting with Clark for some length after the service, though, and was careful to keep herself busy with some of her friends.

  On the way home Clark began to share the earlier conversation with Marty, and Belinda could not help but overhear.

  "Thet young O'Connel fella is back. He's been learnin' the buildin' trade an' now wants to do his buildin' hereabouts."

  "Thet's nice," said Marty agreeably."Does he think there'll be enough work?"

  "He's already lined him up several jobs. Seems ambitious enough."

  "Thet's nice," said Marty again.

  "He was wonderin' iffen some of our young fellas might be interested in workin' fer 'im," went on Clark.

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  "Some of ours?" asked Marty, taking a new interest in the conversation.

  "Yeah. Clare's or Arnie's. Promised I'd ask."

  "They're jest boys," offered Marty.

  "Old enough to work. I was doin' a man's job by the time I was their age."

  Marty nodded.

  "Do ya think any of 'em might be interested?" she asked.

  "Don't know," responded Clark. "But I'll mention it like I promised. Clare's Dan might be. Don't think he has him much interest in farmin'."

  It was true. They had all sensed it.

  "What do ya think Clare will say about it all?" asked Marty next.

  "S'pose he'll want Dan to be a doin' what brings 'im pleasure," Clark responded and clucked to the team to hurry them

  up.

  Belinda thought the conversation was over. But Clark continued, "Good to see thet young fella back again. Seems like a fine young man. I'd be right glad to see Dan workin' with the likes of 'im." And then as an afterthought, "Now why ya s'pose Amy Jo couldn't have stayed on here an' taken up with 'im 'stead of goin' off west an' meetin' someone we don't even know?"

  "Who knows the ways of the heart?" asked Marty, and the conversation finally took a different turn, much to Belinda's relief.

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  EIGHT

  Amy Jo

  A wire from Amy Jo simply stated that she would be home for Easter as promised. They should meet the afternoon train on Good Friday. She did not mention her young man, and the family wondered if the little romance had ended. Kate privately told Marty that she prayed it might be so, though she did hope her impetuous daughter had not been hurt by the whole experience.

  The wire arrived only two days before the specified Friday, and once again the whole family was in commotion preparing for Amy Jo's return.

  Belinda was glad she was busy with patients so she wouldn't be anxiously counting down the hours until Friday's train. To get herself through the long evening wait, she busied herself in Abbie's kitchen doing some special baking. Thomas and Aaron pulled up chairs and leaned on the counter, watching the dough taking shape in the blue mixing bowl.

  "Wha'cha makin'?" Aaron began.

  "Cookies. Can't ya tell?" Thomas told his brother. "See, she's got sugar an' eggs an' butter all stirred together."

  "It might be cake," defended Aaron. "Mama puts all them things in cake."

  "This time it is cookies," Belinda explained.

  "What kind?" asked Aaron.

  "Applesauce cookies," answered Belinda.

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  "Ummm," said Aaron. "My favorite."

  "You say thet 'bout any kind," rebuked Thomas.

  "That's 'cause I like 'em:' said Aaron with a stubborn set to his chin.

  "They're not yer favorite, then, iffen ya like 'em all," argued Thomas.

  Belinda was in no mood for childish spats. "They are Amy

  Jo's favorite. Her true favorite," she informed the children. "Are ya bakin"em jest fer her?" asked Aaron dolefully. "Yes--but no. Not all fer her. We'll give her some--but you

  can have some, too."

  Aaron seemed satisfied.

  "When's she comin'?"

  Belinda lifted her eyes to the clock. "In about . . . about forty- two hours," she responded.

  "Forty-two? Thet's a long, long time!"

  "Does two days sound better?" asked Belinda.

  "Two is better'n forty . . . forty what?"

  "Forty-two."

  "Yeah, forty-two. Two's better'n that."

  "Ya silly," cut in Thomas. "She comes when she comes. Don't make no difference what ya call it." Then he seemed to reconsider his statement for a moment and directed a question to Belinda. "Is forty-two and two days the same long?"

  Belinda smiled. "Two whole days make forty-eight hours, but it's not quite two whole days now. Instead of forty-eight, it's about forty-two," she explained to the boy.

  "It still seems a long time," insisted Aaron.

  "We only got the message this mornin'," Belinda reminded them.

  "Forty-two is still a long time," Thomas agreed with his brother.

  "Bet the cookies'll all be gone by then:' Aaron said, eyeing

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  the dough as it was placed on the cookie pans.

  "We'll hide some," suggested Belinda.

  Aaron grinned. He loved secrets. Then he sobered. "But only a few many" he cautioned.

  When the first cookies were taken from the oven,
Belinda poured two glasses of milk and sat the boys at the table with three cookies apiece. They chattered contentedly as they ate, and Belinda found their company a distraction for the long evening hours.

  "Ya gonna hide some fer 'Connel?" Aaron asked.

  "Fer what?" she asked, perplexed by his question.

  "Not 'what," corrected Thomas. "People aren't `whats; Papa says."

  He stopped to dip an edge of his cookie into his milk and then sucked the moisture out.

  " 'Connel," repeated Aaron.

  "Oh, you mean Mr. O'Connel."

  "S'what I said," remarked Aaron, then followed his brother's lead in dunking a cookie. Not quite as adept at dunking, a soggy piece of his cookie fell into the glass, and he ran to the cupboard for a spoon.

  "Are ya?" he asked as he returned to the table.

  "No-o-o. He lives at Mrs. Lacey's boardinghouse. She cooks for him."

  "Bet he doesn't git cookies like this."

  "Aaron," Thomas spoke impatiently. "Jesus didn't say we gotta share with ever'body."

  "That's not what I meant," hastened Belinda. "God wants us to share with others. It's jest that sometimes--" Now she was talking herself into a corner. She would never know how to explain to the two boys. She quickly changed her tack.

  "How would ya like to take a couple cookies to yer papa? He

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  is busy in his office, but I think he would like some cookies and milk."

  The boys loved the idea, and Aaron was given a small plate with the cookies and Thomas a glass of milk and they marched off to take the offering to Luke. Fortunately the more careful Thomas had the glass in hand.

  By the time Belinda finished her baking, "hid" a few cookies to present to Amy Jo, and cleaned up the kitchen, it was late and she was ready for bed. She mentally scratched this first day from her calendar and hoped the next day would be filled with lots of activities and jobs that needed to be done. I'm awful glad, she told herself as she climbed into bed, that Amy Jo didn't send that wire any sooner!

  The next day turned out to be rather quiet in the doctor's office, so Belinda asked Abbie if there were any errands she could run. Abbie did need a few things from the store, so Belinda donned a light shawl, her spring hat, and set off with a basket over her arm.

  The purchases did not take long, and she whiled away a few more minutes looking in shop windows. The afternoon still stretched on before her, and she did not look forward to trying to find something to fill it.

  She finally strolled toward home, studying neighborhood gardens and the spring flowers beginning to make their appearance. She was so preoccupied she went right on by Luke's house without even realizing it.

  "Out for an afternoon walk?" The nearness of the voice startled her and she jumped. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to catch ya off guard," the person apologized as she turned to see who it was. "You were jest so deep in thought."

  Belinda looked up to see Rand smiling down at her. "I . . . I

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  guess I was," she admitted, looking about her to get her bearings. "I . . . I was off doin' some errands fer Abbie, and comin' home I was . . . was admirin' the spring flowers an' I 'most forgot what I was about, I guess." She laughed at herself and turned to start back in the right direction.

  "May I walk along with ya?" he asked. "I'm headin' fer the hardware store."

  "Certainly" answered Belinda and shifted her basket only to have it gently taken from her hands.

  "I heard around town that ya have some good news."

  "Oh yes! I can hardly stand the wait for Amy Jo's return. I

  guess thet was why my thoughts were so far off a moment ago." He nodded and fell into step beside her.

  "What happened to the young man--her beau?" he asked after they had walked a short distance together.

  Belinda lifted her eyes to look at him. "We don't know," she said honestly. "Amy Jo said nothin' about him in the wire. Perhaps . . . perhaps it wasn't so serious after all."

  "That's unfortunate," said Rand. "I hate to hear of love gone sour."

  Belinda wasn't sure if the comment was teasing or serious. She could think of no response, so she kept her silence.

  "What's Melissa doin' these days? Teachin'?"

  "Yes," Belinda answered, wondering again if it could be that Rand was interested in Melissa. "She got herself a school the very first term after she got back home. It's close enough that she can stay at home and ride horseback to classes each day"

  "That's nice," responded Rand. And then he added, "I don't suppose she'll do thet fer too many years."

  Belinda looked at him questioningly.

  "Must be lots of ranchers out there who can see how pretty she is," he explained. "One of 'em is bound to catch her eye one of these days."

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  "She . . . she already has a beau," Belinda offered, carefully watching Rand's face.

  He brightened. "Has she, now?" he said. "Thet's nice." Then he quickly added, "Is Melissa older or younger than you?" "Older," said Belinda. "A bit."

  "An' she's yer niece," he noted with a grin. Belinda smiled and nodded.

  They had reached Luke's gate, and this time Belinda had no intention of missing it again. She reached for her basket and said she must be getting in to see if she could be of any help to Abbie.

  Rand slowly gave up the basket and tipped his hat, saying he hoped to see her again soon. Then he was gone, and Belinda went around to the back door and into the kitchen.

  I never even thought to ask him how his building is goin', she chided herself. He'll think me most uncarin'.

  The next morning Belinda and Luke were so busy she began to fear they would still be in the office sewing up cuts and administering medication when Amy Jo's train whistled its way into town. Why couldn't some of the cases have been spread out over the past two days? was her unreasonable question, which she had more sense than to express aloud.

  But Luke must have read her agitation anyway.

  "Don't worry" he soothed. "When it's time for that train, you'll be on the station platform. Anything that's going on here I can handle."

  Belinda still fretted. She had already missed the morning Good Friday service at church. If only patients could be regulated, her thoughts continued to whirl around, instead of coming by bunches at the wrong times!

  She turned her attention back to the task at hand and hoped

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  that by the time the train was due, the office would be cleared out.

  At last the final patient was on the way out the door, and Belinda took a deep breath and looked around her. There was cleaning up to be done, but the clock on the wall said there were still forty-five minutes until train time. If she hurried, she would make it just fine.

  "I would like to say I'll do the cleaning," said Luke, "but I promised the Willises I'd drop by. Mrs. Willis hasn't been able to shake that nasty cough she developed when she was carrying her last child."

  "It's fine," responded Belinda. "I have plenty of time."

  "Do you mind giving Abbie a bit of help with the youngsters?" asked Luke. "I know she wants to meet the train, but it's kind of hard for her to carry the baby and watch two rambunctious boys."

  Belinda smiled. "I'll be glad to help," she assured him. "Those boys and I have a few cookies to deliver."

  Belinda hurried to clean the room and sterilize the instruments. Amy Jo would soon be back home where she belonged. Belinda hoped her niece would never be tempted to leave home again. It was far too lonely without her.

  Belinda finished her duties and rushed up to her room to get ready. She took the remaining applesauce cookies from their hiding place and carefully placed them in a small decorated tin. Aaron will want to carry them, she noted to herself. Leaving them on the kitchen table, she went to see what assistance she could give Abbie.

  Abbie was just putting the blanket around the baby. The two boys were already on the front step. Belinda gave the cookie tin into Aaron's care and offered to carry the baby. />
  It was only a brief walk to the station, but by the time they arrived, Belinda's arms were tired. She couldn't believe how much

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  little Ruthie had grown in such a short time. She wished they had one of those baby prams she had seen pictured in the Sears Roebuck catalog.

  When they joined their excited family on the platform, Clark took Ruthie, and Belinda was glad to give her arms a rest. Cousins shouted at one another and raced about. Scoldings followed and then threats, and finally the younger members were firmly seated on the bench beside the station and, much to their chagrin, told to remain there until the train arrived.

  Finally the far-off whistle was heard and then the distant thunder of the metal wheels told them that the train would soon be there.

  Kate stood with pale face and hands clasped tightly together. "Oh, I can hardly wait to see her," she said to the little cluster of family. "I never dreamed when we let her go thet she'd be gone so long. When she kept stayin' an' stayin', I felt so frightened. . . so frightened she wouldn't be comin' back. I'm so glad . . . so glad thet she is. I jest hope she isn't hurt over thet there boy. But there are lots of fine young men around here fer her. She's still so young. . . so young."

  Belinda had never heard Kate go on so. She attributed it to nerves.

  "I jest hope she won't miss the West too much. Maybe she'll have it all outta her system by now. Same with thet young man. My, I hope she doesn't moon over losin' him. I scarce could bear a mopin' girl." Kate turned to Belinda. "You'll have to watch out fer her. You always was good at talkin' her outta her dark moods. You could introduce her to some of the young people in town here--like thet O'Connel boy. Pa says he's real fine. Dan's gonna go work fer 'im as soon as school classes are out."

  That was news to Belinda, though she wasn't surprised. She was surprised, however, at her feeling of reluctance to be a match

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