Marta's Legacy Collection

by Francine Rivers

  Trip wrote from Berlin.

  I’m coming home.

  He didn’t know when he would arrive, but he would be sent to his city of enlistment, which meant if she wanted to be at the train station to meet him, she needed to return to Colorado. Hildie’s joy turned to panic when she saw the letter had taken twelve days to reach her.

  Bernie took her to the train station to buy tickets. She prayed she would be able to ride in a Pullman so she and two-year-old Charlie could rest on the three-day trip to Colorado.

  By the time they arrived, Hildie had lost weight from motion sickness and was exhausted. The train pulled into Denver midafternoon, and she had to transfer to the Eagle streamliner to Colorado Springs. Carrying Charles on her hip and struggling with her suitcase, she made it just in time. Every muscle in her body ached. She shifted Charles in her arms.

  Mom and Dad Arundel stood on the train platform waiting for her in Colorado Springs. Hildemara cried in relief when she saw them. Mom gave her a quick hug and took Charlie. “Oh, he’s beautiful! Just like his daddy at this age.” She kissed Charlie’s plump cheeks while Dad hugged Hildie.

  “Any word?” Hildie had dreamed of seeing Trip with them.

  “Not yet, but he’ll be home any day now.” Dad picked up the suitcase. “Only one?”

  “Bernie will ship everything as soon as we know where we’re going to live.”

  She felt dead on her feet; she stumbled. Dad caught her beneath the elbow and looked her over with concern. “You’re going straight to bed when we get to the house. You look like you haven’t slept in three days.”

  “Charlie didn’t sleep much on the train.”

  Dad smiled. “Well, you’ve got reinforcements now, so you can rest up before Trip gets here.”

  Hildie fell asleep the moment her head touched Trip’s pillow in the porch bedroom. She awakened to someone stroking her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Trip leaning over her, smiling. She thought she was dreaming until he spoke.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  She reached up and touched his face. Sobbing, she threw her arms around him. He held on to her. Gripping her hair, he drew her head back and kissed her. She tasted salt and realized they were both crying.

  Embarrassed, he whispered against her hair. “I’ve missed you so much, Hildie.” She heard the tears in his voice.

  She pressed closer, nestling into the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent. “You’re home. Thank God, you’re home.” She could feel the tremor in his hands. If not for his parents in the other room or for Charlie, who was crying again, she might have been bolder. She drew back, smiling, drinking in the sight of her husband. He looked tired. His face hadn’t changed, but his eyes looked older, battle-worn. “What do you think of your son?”

  “He’s perfect. He’s sitting on the kitchen rug playing with some of Mom’s wooden spoons. Or he was. I tried to pick him up, but he didn’t think much of the idea.”

  “He doesn’t know you yet. He will.” She kept touching him, running her hands over him, her heart squeezing tight at the signs of fatigue, sorrow, joy, all mixed together. His eyes darkened.

  “Better stop.” He took her hands and kissed them. “I want you so much I hurt, Hildie.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I know what I’d like to do with you right now, but I don’t want to shock the life out of my parents.”

  Mom prepared a wonderful lunch. They all sat around the table, giving thanks to God for Trip’s safe return. Trip fed Charlie. “They say food is the quickest way to a man’s heart.” Trip made airplane sounds and told Charlie to open the hangar. Everyone laughed. Hildie couldn’t take her eyes off Trip.

  Dad got up. “Why don’t we take this little fellow on a stroll, Mom?”

  Mom stacked dishes and put them in the sink. “The fresh air would do him good. Leave the dishes, Hildie. You and Trip have a lot of catching up to do.”

  They went out with the stroller they’d bought before Hildie arrived and settled Charlie into it. The sun was warm as Trip and his dad carried the stroller down the front steps, Mom following.

  “We’re going down and around Prospect Lake,” Dad called out. “Charlie might like to watch the kids playing.”

  “The Harts haven’t seen him yet,” Mom called. “We’ll probably stop there while we’re out.”

  “Don’t you two worry if we’re gone for a couple of hours.” Dad winked at Trip. “We’ll take care of Charlie. You take care of your wife.”

  Hildie watched them walk up East Moreno Avenue. Trip took her hand and drew her back inside the house, closing the door behind them. Leaning against it, he grinned. “A couple of hours, Dad said.”

  She blushed. “I adore your parents.”

  They made the most of the rest of the afternoon.

  Hildie had six perfect days with Trip before he had to report to base. His parents went with her to the train station. Mom took Charlie so Hildie could walk alongside the moving car, her hand pressed against the glass, his on the other side. “I’ll see you in a few days, Trip.”

  His eyes filled with tears. He mouthed, I love you. He looked over her head to his parents and then turned away.

  No one spoke on the way back to the house. Hildemara had a premonition, but didn’t want to speak it. Mom reached for Charlie as soon as they entered the house. “Why don’t you let me take him for a while?” She looked ready to cry. She took Charlie into the bedroom instead of setting him on the rug to play. Hildie’s heart began to pound.

  “Sit down, honey.” Dad put his hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Trip couldn’t tell you.”

  She started to shake inside as the fear came up and spread. She had read the papers. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. “Tell me what?” She could barely get the words out. The war in Europe had ended. Trip had done his part.

  “Trip received his orders. He’s being sent to the South Pacific.”

  Grief-stricken and angry, Hildemara returned to Murietta. Mom and Dad had wanted her to stay with them in Colorado Springs, but she said Bernie and Elizabeth could use her help holding on to the Musashi place. Dad’s eyes had flickered at the Japanese name, but he hadn’t argued.

  Settled again, Hildie couldn’t bear to read the newspapers or listen to the radio. At night, Bernie turned it on and she couldn’t get away from it. Casualties mounted as ships were sunk by kamikaze pilots. Each island recaptured cost tens of thousands of lives. And still, Japan with its ancient code of honor refused to surrender. An invasion would come, and estimates ran up to a hundred thousand American soldiers dead to defeat the Japanese on their own soil. How many had already been killed at Normandy or in northern Africa, Italy, and Germany? Millions! Europe had been laid waste by war.

  Trip wrote.

  Rough seas. Been sick for days. Not much good to anyone.

  And how long before his ship reached the shores of Japan and he would be in another beach invasion, the red cross on his white helmet a perfect target for enemy fire?

  Mama told her worrying did no good, but Hildie couldn’t seem to stop. She worried over Trip’s ship being hit by a kamikaze. She worried about his ship sinking, leaving him lost at sea, adrift, then drowning or being eaten by sharks. She worried his ship would succeed in reaching Japan or some godforsaken island and he’d step on a land mine and be blasted to bits like poor Eddie Rinckel and a dozen others she knew from school days.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick again, Hildemara Rose.” Mama sat at the Musashis’ table, a glass of lemonade in front of her. “You can’t change anything. Your husband will come back or he won’t. Worrying isn’t going to help him. You’ve got to stop moping around like a lost soul, hiding in the house. Elizabeth could use a little more help around here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Leave me alone, Mama. What do you know about loving someone the way I love Trip?” She regretted the words as soon as they sprang from her mouth.

  “Oh. Love. Is that
what this is? Love?” Mama sneered. “Looks more like self-pity from where I’m sitting. And a good excuse not to carry your share of the load. Who do you think you are, some duchess? Leaving all the work to Bernie and Elizabeth because your husband made it back from Europe and got sent to the Pacific? You think you’re alone in your misery? Trip would be proud of you, wouldn’t he? Seeing you sitting on your backside at the breakfast table sniveling and letting Elizabeth keep watch over two babies. No. Make that three. Wouldn’t he just love that?”

  “Stop it!”

  Mama got up and shattered the glass of lemonade in the sink. “No. You stop it! Mein Gott! This is war! The people who give up and give in don’t survive! You know what Papa said about worry. It’s sin, Hildemara! It shows your lack of faith in God! You know what Papa told me before he died? He said every time I felt myself starting to worry, he wanted me to pray. Pray! That’s what I do! Sometimes screaming! I hang on to faith with both fists and pray. It’s harder some days than others, but by heavens, I do it!”

  “I’m not you.”

  “No. You’re not.” Mama let out her breath. “I didn’t expect you to turn out like me. I just didn’t want you to be like . . .”

  Caught by the changed tone of her voice, Hildemara looked up. “Like who?”

  “Never mind.” She shook her head, her eyes moist. “Sometimes all you can do is pray.” She looked down at Hildemara. “And hope for the best.” She went to the door. “Tell Elizabeth I’m sorry about the glass. I’ll get her another.” She slammed the door behind herself.

  Hildemara picked the glass shards out of the sink and threw them away. Putting on her apron, she went out to help Elizabeth weed the garden. She could hear Eddie and Charlie playing in the pen Bernie had set up. Elizabeth glanced up and shaded her eyes. “I saw Mama going in to talk with you. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll survive.” She leaned down and ran her hand over Charlie’s head. Whatever happened, she knew for his sake she had to do more than survive.

  On August 6, 1945, America dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Hildie sat with Bernie and Elizabeth listening to the radio. They had heard rumors something big was coming, but had never imagined such destruction possible. “They’ll surrender now.” Bernie felt sure of it.

  The Japanese didn’t.

  Another bomb fell three days later on Nagasaki after leaflets had been dropped to warn of its coming. Bernie cheered when the Japanese surrendered, as did Hildemara and Elizabeth, dancing around the kitchen while Eddie and Charlie watched with wide eyes, confused at all the ruckus.

  Two days later, the Western Defense Command revoked the exclusion orders against Japanese Americans. The Musashis would be coming home soon, but Bernie didn’t seem at all worried about it. He and Elizabeth started making plans to move farther north, closer to Sacramento.

  Hildemara received a letter from Trip. His ship would come into San Francisco. He didn’t know what day.

  Stay in Murietta. I’ll come to you. . . .

  Would he want to go back to Colorado or stay in California? Would he want to start medical school right away? If so, she would have to find a job and help pay his way. But then what would she do about Charles? So many decisions needed to be made. She wouldn’t know anything until Trip came home.

  When the phone rang, she ran to catch it.

  “Do you know there are no taxis in Murietta?”

  “Trip!”

  “At least, none that I can find. How’s a civilian supposed to get a ride around here?”

  “Where are you?” She sobbed with joy.

  “Murietta train station.”

  “We’ll be right there!” She ran outside. “Bernie!” For the first time in her life, she wished she had taken Mama’s advice and learned to drive.

  On the way to town, Hildemara screamed, “Can’t you go any faster?”

  Bernie chuckled. “If I go any faster, we’ll end up in a ditch.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to bring Charlie with you.”

  “Oh no!” she shrieked. She’d left him alone on the rug! “We’ve got to go back!”

  “Forgot him, huh?” Bernie laughed without restraint. “Just left him with the door wide open. He’s probably toddled off someplace. Probably eating sand by now or playing in manure. He could fall into a canal, you know, or get run over. Great mama you turned out to be.”

  “Bernie!”

  He gave her a shove. “He’s fine, you idiot. Relax! Elizabeth took him out to the garden. He and Eddie are probably yanking on the playpen bars trying to escape. Did you know you forgot to hang up the telephone? You just left poor Trip hanging on a line.”

  “What am I going to tell Trip? What’s he going to think of me?”

  Bernie laughed. “I doubt he’ll be thinking about anything but getting his hands on his wife again.”

  Trip didn’t give her a chance to breathe, let alone explain why she didn’t have Charlie with her. She laughed and cried she was so happy to see him. He looked lean and fit, and handsome in his uniform, though she couldn’t wait to see him out of it. “You said civilian.”

  “I am, but you have all my civvies in the trunk.”

  “Oh. I forgot.”

  Bernie grinned. “She seems to be forgetting a lot of things lately.”

  Mama came over to welcome Trip home. She had gone to town and bought a leg of lamb and wanted to help put on a celebratory dinner. Hildie ran out to the barn and brought back a tablecloth and china place settings. Bernie and Trip took their sons outside to play while Mama, Hildie, and Elizabeth set the table.

  Mama admired the plates. “Lady Daisy had plates just like these.” She ran her finger around the edge of a Royal Doulton plate before setting it on the table.

  The Martins came over. The house filled up to bursting. Everyone laughed and talked and passed plates of lamb, mashed potatoes, carrots, and peas around the table. Mama had even thought of apple mint jelly. Trip chopped carrots for Charles, who chucked them on the floor, rousing more laughter. “We’re going to have to work on your table manners.”

  They talked of more serious matters. Trip asked what Bernie planned to do when the Musashis came home.

  “Start packing.”

  Everyone grew quiet. Hitch and Donna exchanged a glance. Mama spoke up. “Hitch, you and Donna needn’t worry. We have a contract.”

  “We never signed anything, Marta. And Bernie’s your son. . . .”

  “I gave my word.”

  Hitch looked embarrassed. “Bernie and Elizabeth and the baby will need a place to live. What’re they going to do?”

  Mama smiled. “Ask them.”

  Bernie took Elizabeth’s hand. “We’ve been talking about moving up to Sacramento and opening a nursery. I’ve got some money saved—not much, but enough to get started.” He gave Mama an apologetic smile. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  Mama stared back. “Did I ever say you couldn’t?” She turned to Trip. “What about you two? Where will you go?”

  Trip looked grim. “We can go back to Colorado Springs for a while, until I figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

  Hildie was surprised. “What about medical school?”

  “Normandy killed that plan for me. I’ve seen all the blood I ever want to see. No more.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I could ever work in a hospital again either.”

  Mama picked up a bowl of mashed potatoes and handed them to Donna. “It’ll all work out.” She looked at Hildemara. “Don’t worry about it.”

  42

  Friday afternoon, Hildemara heard a heavy vehicle coming up the road. She straightened where she had been working in a row of zucchini and brushed herself off. An Army bus pulled up and idled in front of the farm. Hildie swung Charlie up and sat him on her hip as she hurried toward the yard.

  Mr. Musashi got off the bus, Mrs. Musashi behind him. George and the girls, all taller, stepped down, looking shy and uncertain. Bernie came ou
t of the barn. Elizabeth opened the screen door and came outside. As the bus pulled away, Mama crossed the street.

  The Musashis just stood there, tight together, silent, looking from house to barn to orchard and fields. They looked strange in their government-issued clothing. Hildie felt tears fill her eyes. No one seemed to know what to do, what to say. Bernie approached them. “Everything is pretty much the way you left it, Mr. Musashi.”

  They just looked at him, saying nothing. Hildemara couldn’t read anything in their faces. They had never seemed more foreign or more vulnerable.

  Bernie looked back at Elizabeth. Hildie handed Charlie to Trip and went to Betsy. She was a beautiful young woman now, a head taller than she had been the last time Hildie saw her. “Let’s bring your parents inside the house, Betsy. You all must be tired. We can make tea. Elizabeth has been baking cookies all morning.”

  “You live here now, too?” Betsy looked at her coldly.

  Mama stepped in and spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Musashi. “Only until you all got back.” She spoke firmly. “Bernhard moved into your place right after the government relocated you. He worked both sides of the road until I hired the Martins to sharecrop my place. Otherwise, my son would have worked himself to death keeping both places running. My son has done a good job for you, Mr. Musashi. Tell him, Bernhard!”

  Bernie blushed crimson. “Mama . . .”

  “Can’t you see? They don’t understand! They think you stole their place.” She turned to Betsy. “Explain to your parents right now. The mortgage and taxes are paid up, and there’s enough left from last year’s crops to carry your family through to next year. We’ve been waiting for you. It’s still your place.”

  Betsy started to cry. She bowed deeply, her hands fluttering over her mouth. Her father looked at her and spoke grimly. She shook her head and spoke in Japanese. He looked at Bernhard and Mama. He looked at Elizabeth and Hildemara and Trip. He didn’t say anything. Mrs. Musashi spoke quietly in Japanese. Betsy answered. Tears streamed down Mrs. Musashi’s face. Mr. Musashi bowed at the waist, and so did his wife and children.