Serendipity

by Cathy Marie Hake

  Impertinent, too. Disrespectful. I’m like that proverb my husband just read – being scornful instead of lowly and humble.

  “Holy Spirit, you’re going to have to heap grace onto me. It befuddles me how an acid-tongued woman like her reared such a kindhearted son. My man’s trying to honor his ma, and that’s something to be admired. He deserves a home filled with laughter and love, not sadness or strife. He’ll be out of the cabin and I’ll be here with Ma all day. I knew that up front when he proposed, but his mama hadn’t shown this mean side of her nature. If you’ll help me turn the other cheek to her, I’d be much obliged.”

  Feeling she’d set her heart to rights, Maggie faced the afternoon. While Ma was awake she kept thinking up something she needed; when ready to fall asleep, any movement in the cabin bothered her. Maggie did the best she could. Straight off, she seized every old catalog and outdated almanac and took them to the outhouse, solving the lack of essentials. Cottonwood leaves would not suffice!

  Good thing she’d brought rope for clothesline. A short row of nails on the eaves had been Todd’s “clothesline.” Because wood cost so dearly, she devised a dandy V-shaped clothesline from the cottonwood to the corner of the cabin. A breeze soon made Ma’s sheets wave and whuffle dry.

  It never occurred to Maggie how many of her recipes included milk, butter, or eggs. Without any of those three things, it made planning meals difficult.

  Todd had said the Richardsons would soon return the chickens, but a milk cow was expensive. A goat would do just as well – and it was cheaper to feed, too. Tonight, I’ll make do. Tomorrow, though, I’m going to barter for the necessities.

  Tall in the saddle, Todd led a string of fine horses home about an hour later. Maggie made sure Ma was okay, then lifted her skirts and ran to the barn. “Aren’t you a sight! Riding off on a handsome gelding, I thought you a prince among men, but I was wrong. You’re a king, and you came back with treasures of your own, didn’t you? A whole caravan of them. Their lines are grand. Strong. Sleek legs and shiny coats. After you told me about the wolves attacking your colts, I worried about them. But they both trot true – not an off step or a wobble!”

  Todd grunted as he dismounted and immediately hitched the fractious stallion to a post.

  Since he had told her at dinner that he planned to keep the colts stabled, Maggie took them into the barn, and their mama trotted right behind them. Nuts and Bolts gladly accepted the oats. Wrench nosed them away and lipped some for herself.

  Across the way, Todd charmed Eve with a stream of compliments. Dusting off her hands, Maggie watched Todd concentrate on the mare. “Eve likes the sound o’ your tongue. Scared as she was when first I traded for her, I thought a different language might make her feel safe. She’s partial to Deutsch.”

  “Schon, schon.” He reached out and rubbed Eve’s neck. She leaned into the contact. Something mystical happened between a man and a horse when they decided to accept one another.

  Watching Todd and her mare cross the river of trust, Maggie stayed silent until he stepped away. “Sure and for certain, Eve’s taken to you. You’ve got a firm hand and a kind voice. Adam’s preference goes contrary to your bent.” At Todd’s quizzical look, she explained, “His original owner cursed at him. Unless he’s insulted first, Adam won’t obey. If you use a fresh string of words so he’s listening to a new song, he’s more likely to mind.” She flashed him a grin. “Seems to me, stallions get the quirks.”

  Todd let out a snort.

  “It’ll be a long while ere I trust your stallion or he trusts me.”

  “Stay away from the stallions. Women have no business around such dangerous beasts. I don’t want you trampled.”

  Her husband meant Hammer, of course. She’d proven how tame Adam was with her. “I reckon I’ll fetch a few things whilst I’m out here.”

  Todd grunted.

  Those all-purpose grunts, “So,” and “Good food,” were the staples of his vocabulary. The man could speak tenderly and beautifully, but he also had this annoying side that dominated his communication. How could it be, he barely spoke at all, yet his mother spoke far too much? Maggie wished she could change both, but she’d settle for the first. Short of a miracle, Maggie knew Ma wouldn’t change.

  It would have been an insult to inspect the horses when he collected them from Never Forsaken, but Todd needed to look them over. He unlatched the gate, and Wrench came right to him.

  Humming like a berserk bee, Maggie crossed the barn. Banners of sunlight filtering in the wide-open doors glossed her black hair, and the way she walked sent his mind spinning. Wrench nudged him and nearly knocked him over. Two legs or four, females have me off balance.

  He’d barely begun to check Wrench when Adam plowed through his stall’s gate in a bid to get to her. Intent on not getting killed, Todd didn’t know Maggie responded until she’d made it halfway across the barn. “Maggie! Get out of here!”

  “Whooo-oo-ie! Thou bilge-bellied miscreant, hie back. Hie back!”

  Adam turned to her, stomped and snorted – a sure sign they were in for a fight. Todd’s blood ran cold. Focused entirely on the stallion and keeping himself between it and his wife, Todd ordered her, “Geh zum haus.”

  “I taught him stall, not house.” The lunatic woman raised her voice again, “Hie back! Geh zum stahl ! Go to your stall.”

  Like an eager-to-please hound, Adam looked about. He spotted the broken gate and walked across it, splitting the boards into kindling.

  “Can’t rightly say why, but neither horse will barge past rope nor leather barriers. If they take a mind to wander, wood won’t contain them.” She started to take a coil of rope off her shoulder. “I brought – ”

  “I ordered you to safety, Wife. In defying me, you put yourself in harm’s way. This will not happen again.”

  “It won’t.” She promptly added, “Now you know you need not protect me from Adam. But rest assured I’m wary of your stallion. He’s got fire in his eye.”

  “As do I, when I’m defied.” From her quick inhalation, Todd knew he’d made his point. He took the rope and secured both Belgians. Eve put up a show to get his attention. “Settle down and settle in.” He’d aimed his words at his bride every bit as much as he had to the mare. Todd held out his hand, and Eve nuzzled his palm.

  “She’s smitten with you. You’ve got the touch. To my thinking, ’tisn’t just a talent, ’tis a rare gift from God. Had you not told me you’re a farmer, I’d have guessed you to be a horseman.”

  Is this just flattery because she feels guilty? His eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”

  “Carrying twins ofttimes taxes a mare, yet Wrench is fit and feisty. And twins are usually smaller than a single-born colt; yet Nuts and Bolts are sizable. Aye, and they had to be strong to pull through those grievous injuries – but more, they had to have been calmed and pampered.”

  She’d put thought behind her comments, and her opinion pleased him. Still, Todd felt compelled to set forth a bitter truth. “But Hammer is a dangerous knothead. Unpredictable. If it weren’t for his history of siring prime offspring, he would be completely worthless.”

  “Not every horse is what Uncle Bo calls a ‘good usin’ ’ horse.”

  Leaning against a post, Todd decided to confess his ambitious dream. “I have an affinity with horses. Hanging on to mine this past year – it has been expensive and difficult; but I have hopes of someday running horses on the side.” He watched her carefully for her reaction.

  Her posture remained relaxed. “You got enough land to do it, and the barn still has room for you to stable a few more.”

  “Time, water, and money – the lack of them limits me.”

  “Droughts end, and you’ve got quality starter stock. I think it’s farsighted of you to plan ahead.” Chewing on her lower lip, Maggie shifted her attention to her feet. “Do you want to keep the line dedicated to plow horses, or would you consider crossbreeding with the Belgians?”

  She’d listened to
his vision and endorsed it, knowing full well they were barely meeting their bills. Just as important, Margaret brought up a topic he needed to address but that men didn’t discuss with women. Stud fees from Adam would bring in a bit of money – some he’d already figured on because those men would have bargained on Hammer servicing their mares – but Adam’s fee would be higher. “Crossbreeding would give more strength to the plow horses, yet temper the size of the Belgian. Once I tame Adam, people will undoubtedly ask for him to stand stud.”

  Tightly clasping her hands at her waist, Maggie stared down and whispered, “You needn’t wait. Put a ready mare in a paddock. I’ll lead Adam in and leave.”

  “So.”

  Immediately, she turned away. “I . . . um . . . I thought to take birdseed back to spread outside the window. Coaxing beauty nearby should cheer Ma.”

  Todd followed her over to the stall where she knelt by a beautifully carved chest.

  Pink filled Maggie’s cheeks, and she still didn’t meet his eyes. “Uncle Bo took care of those . . . um . . . business deals. You will, too, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Just days ago, he’d thought about how a farmhand’s labor would make a difference – but now Maggie planned to work beside him. Her help and the small revenue he’d get from the stallions both hedged against failure. For the first time since he’d heard the price on crops had dropped, Todd felt a tiny glimmer of hope. The tension drained from his shoulders. As his hands eased downward, they hit boxes.

  Todd shuffled to the side, searching for space. He loathed being closed in. For punishment, his stepfather had whipped him with the razor strop, then locked him in a crowded little shed. Being in tight spaces brought back bad memories.

  “Here we are!” Oblivious to his dark thoughts, Magpie lifted the trunk’s lid and took out a quilt. Reverently, she traced her fingers over the flowers and leaves. “Mama and I made this quilt together for my dowry chest. Sick she was, sore sick on the inside. But each day I’d sit right aside her and we’d stitch away on my Rose of Sharon. ‘ ’Tisn’t right for a bride to make her bed without the newlywed quilt on it,’ Mama would say. A vase full of memories comes along with each flower, and I know my mama prayed hard I’d find the happiness she did in marriage.”

  Todd saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Tamping down his growing apprehension, he asserted, “You will.”

  “Daddy and Uncle Bo made my dowry chest together, and Aunt Maude helped me fill it.” Magpie reached down and caressed the plaid cloth she’d worn as a bride, then fleetingly touched the thin-as-air hair covering she’d worn, as well. “I brought Mama’s veil along so someday our daughter can wear it, too.”

  He’d hit his limit. Standing amidst her boxes, barrels, and crates made him feel closed in. He wanted to start pitching things out of the barn or stride away. By tackling the issue now, he’d solve it. Pointedly looking about, he growled, “Far more than a veil you brought.”

  She shut the lid on her trunk. “Aye, and so you said last night. Betwixt then and now, I had no opportunity to rid us of anything. I’m tending your ma and especially came to get this since you said we’d put together the bed later.” She’d choked on those last words and her face went scarlet.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Magpie lifted the lid on her dowry chest again. Beneath the veil lay a stack of embroidered linens.

  The notion of having fresh, crisp sheets on a bed in his own home instead of a cot sounded like a slice of heaven. Being with his bride under that newlywed quilt . . .

  Maggie lay the quilt back inside and shut the lid.

  Ten

  Todd glowered at her. “You got close to an antsy stallion and risked your life for birdseed and that quilt? Yet now you leave the quilt out here.”

  Blue fire. Her eyes shone with the same blue that simmered at the very bottom of the hottest flames. “I wouldn’t put myself in jeopardy – heart or being – for anything in the world but you. It wasn’t safe, you alone with – ”

  “Talk wastes time.” Todd strode past her and out the barn. Whether he liked it or not – and he didn’t – she was right. He’d been in danger, and she’d turned the situation around.

  But a woman didn’t point out such things to a man. Now that he thought of it, she’d asserted her opinions freely in the holler. Ma was right about her not knowing how to be a farmer’s wife. They followed their husband’s orders and edicts. Challenging a husband showed a lack of respect. German culture held to the biblical model of the man being the head of the home. For that matter, all of the women on the other farms – German, Dutch, English – all of the women deferred to the man.

  His wife would, too. This wasn’t Carver Holler, and she’d best mend her ways here and now. Just as surely as she’d closed the lid on that trunk, she’d have to close the lid on her past and adhere to the right way.

  For a short while, he’d let himself believe life would get less complicated. Easier. He snorted. Impossible. An ailing, cranky ma; a fresh-mouthed, opinionated bride, and a heavily mortgaged farm teetering on the edge of disaster amounted to anything but easy. Given a little time to heal, Ma ought to sweeten up, so that didn’t weigh too heavily on his mind. I’ll pull the reins as I need to, to keep my wife in step with me. Teaching her, though – that would take time – time he didn’t have. Sassy back talk wasted her breath and drew them both away from their tasks and chores. Todd came to the unsettling awareness that she’d meant it when she stepped on his toes at the wedding. But he’d keep her in line.

  “You vexatious, dog-hearted clodpole!” Maggie watched her groom stride away. Grabbing the bag of birdseed, she stomped out of the barn’s side door. Along the way, she spied one of the outdated catalogs she’d put in the outhouse and snatched it up. Clearly, her husband knew nothing at all about a woman’s needs. Any of them.

  His mother is going to have to explain this one to him. I’ll set this beside her bed, and he can try taking it away from her. After casting a handful of birdseed by the cabin’s window, Maggie went inside, took the catalog from her apron pocket, and set it on the foot of Ma’s bed. “That’s from 1891, so I figure at two years old it’s fair for using as an essential.”

  “Arletta had wonderful paper specifically made for the necessary – this last year, it was even rolled instead of little sheets. If my son had gotten a good education, he could live in the city and afford those kinds of things.”

  “Todd seems very well educated to me.”

  “Of course he does.” Ma cast her a look and paused slightly. “For a farmer.”

  That wasn’t nice – not to me or to Todd. Straightening and bending her mother-in-law’s left arm, Maggie decided she could work on Ma’s attitude as she worked on her body. “Your husband – Todd’s daddy – must have been a strong example of finding contentment working the soil. The Bible talks of Boaz being a husbandman, and God was so pleased with him, he sent Ruth his way. Christ Jesus came from their line. Let’s work your shoulder now. Up and down, side to side, and in circles.”

  “Boaz sought his family’s permission ere he took Ruth to wife, so there is no comparison. I’m Todd’s ma, and I know him better than he knows himself. Stop twisting my arm off and pay attention.” Ma reached over with her good hand and squeezed Maggie’s wrist. “Don’t delude yourself. He’ll do right by you, but he doesn’t love you.”

  “Ma’am, you’re calling your son a liar.”

  Ma spluttered and huffed. “I am not!”

  Maggie started working on Ma’s fingers. Each one needed to be bent and straightened half a dozen times, and her wrist needed to be rotated. “Sure and to be certain, you did. In our wedding vows, Todd pledged to love me. Now I grant you, we’ve only been acquainted a short time, so the feelings we carry for each other are just taking root and sprouting. But they’re there. With time and tending, we’ll reap a rich marriage and a crop of children.” She stared the woman in the eyes. “I won’t hear anyone suggest that my man’s a liar or that he doesn’t care for me. That’s si
nful gossip and lies.”

  “Oh, he cares for you – but he’ll never fall in love unless you adjust and . . . transform.”

  “You spoke your piece.” Maggie refused to listen anymore. Each sentence Ma uttered stung – and partly because Todd’s treatment of her suddenly reflected anger and disappointment. Ma’s attitude that she wasn’t suitable already hurt, but for Todd to feel the same way made her sick inside. Not sick, she amended herself, determined. Things were going to have to change, but she wasn’t. At least not much.

  The way to a man’s heart . . . “I decided on apple crisp for dessert tonight. I can get it made and let it set out of the way whilst supper’s bubbling on the stove.”

  “Sweet things don’t keep a man going, girl.”

  The sound of a wagon pulling up spared Maggie from having to answer. “We have a caller!” Without bothering to remove her apron or smooth her hair, she dashed outside to escape Ma.

  Maggie recognized the man’s unmistakable build and horses from the night they arrived. “Mr. Van der Vort! Welcome!” When he turned around after helping a strikingly handsome woman alight, Maggie halted. “You’re not . . . I’m sorry. I’m Margaret Valmer. Maggie.” I didn’t stumble and say Rose instead of Valmer this time!

  “I am Karl Van der Vort. My brother, Piet, helped you the other night. This is my wife, Dr. Taylor Bestman-Van der Vort.” He handed his wife a leather satchel.

  Maggie turned to the man’s wife. “Ma’am, my husband told me about you, and my heart leaps to make your acquaintance. Won’t you both come in?”

  “Actually, this is a sick-and-dying call.” The laughter in the doctor’s eyes and tone kept her words from being overly alarming. “Piet said Todd’s mother is quite ill. And even if she weren’t sick, Karl’s dying to go see those Belgians.”