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Serendipity

Page 23

by Cathy Marie Hake


  Shuffling sounds below restored her confidence. Even if she had to drop a yard or so, Adam’s back could bear the brunt of her fall. Dismay washed over her when she dipped her head, for Adam moved. The minute I depend on him, he strands me. “Komst,” she whispered to the horse.

  He looked up at her and shook his mane. At that moment, Maggie spied it – the rope about his neck. It was tied to a post that kept him just far enough away from her.

  Dangling from the side of a beam, her only choice was to inch sideways and land in a pile of hay. Whatever it took, she’d do it to get out of this barn and be alone.

  Todd was talking, but she couldn’t make out exactly what he said. That didn’t much matter since he’d already said plenty enough. She was entirely focused on slowly moving along the beam. But, oh, how her arms ached.

  “Bullheaded pain in the neck!” Todd’s voice sounded near. “Wife, are you going to hang around there all day, or are you going to see sense?”

  “One of the two of us sees things clear as can be, and it’s not you!” An enraged sound curled in her chest when Maggie spied him again. Todd sat astride Adam – bareback, no less – and the traitorous stallion followed every little nudge and nuance Todd gave until they were right below her.

  “We’re waiting for you.”

  Maggie refused to give in and drop into that oaf ’s arms. “Go away.” Drawing up her knees, she punctuated her rejection. Only her hands couldn’t take it much longer.

  An impatient growl sounded a mere breath before a firm yank ripped half the hem out of her skirt. “Wife!” A second jerk made her fingers lose purchase, and she landed in Todd’s arms. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

  “No.” She shoved a lock of hair out of her face. “I was trying to kill you. I had it all figured out and was going to poison your dinner today. Groundhog was on the menu, but now I’ll have to come up with another plot.”

  Todd threw back his head, and his deep rumbles of laughter almost knocked her from his lap. “And just to think I came in here and told you we’d eat it. I’ve spoiled your plan.” Fast as lightning, his expression changed. Cupping her cheek, he said, “It’s not the only thing that’s spoiled around here.”

  She knocked his hand away and tried to slide free. “I’m not spoiled.”

  Gripping her apron bow to hold her in place, he growled. “I never said you were. Stop looking for reasons to be offended. Are you always this touchy?”

  “No.” She retreated into sarcasm to hide her hurt. “Low-class, white trash hillbillies develop thick hides from totin’ rifles and eatin’ skunk. Let me tell you, farmer man, skunk roast with collard greens and corn pone is the best Christmas Eve supper you’ll ever have.”

  “Collard greens are sweetest in winter. Everyone likes corn pone.” To her irritation, he tried to snuggle her close. “But no one eats skunk.”

  Giving him a scathing look, she pushed one arm away and said, “I have. Twice!” She jabbed her elbow between his ribs and slid free.

  Quick as a whip, Todd was on his feet behind her. He grabbed her hand so they both stroked Adam together . . . whether she wanted to or not. “Adam deserves reassurance and praise.”

  “Then go ahead and give it to him. You’ve won his obedience and devotion.”

  “Margaret, Margaret.” His whisper rumbled against her temple. “You are a better woman than that. Come.” He lifted the rope tied across Adam’s stall and ducked beneath it. With his arm around her waist, she found herself dragged over to a barrel. “Sit here. We need to talk.”

  “To my reckoning, there’s been more than enough talk.”

  “What happened. It was wrong – ”

  “You already told me that. I’ve never seen anyone kick up such a ruckus over anything this piddly. Then again, there are other things I’d never seen before – like folks saying two prayers over the same meal. Or a woman bein’ dead set on what day another does the laundry. Sure and certain as I live and breathe, no one’s ever eaten my food only to turn and revile it.”

  She couldn’t sit still any longer. Hopping to her feet, hands fisted, she nearly got a crick in her neck, looking up at the man she’d pledged to love. If only it were just a crick in her neck and not in her heart, too. “Up till then, what all got said hurt, but sometimes problems gotta get aired. Aye, that’s the way it is, and I accept that.”

  “So.” He managed a lopsided smile and reached for her hands. “I knew you would see it thus. It was a misunderstanding.”

  “There’s a misunderstanding, all right.” She wouldn’t let him touch her. “Uncle Bo told me that love means seeing someone through God’s eyes – not trying to mold them to suit our wants.”

  “That is very wise.”

  “And I’ve been incredibly foolish because I’ve confused respect and acceptance. When you proposed, you claimed to respect me. As it turns out, you respect my ability to work, but unless I learn your ways and fix your foods and change into your idea of what a wife is, I’m not acceptable. You’re ashamed of me. Well, the joke is on you, because you’re stuck with me as your wife.” She turned away. They didn’t have a milking stool yet, but her dress was ruined anyway. Maggie snatched up a pail, dashed over to the cow, and squatted down. But the steady shhhh-shhh-shhhh of milk streaming into the bucket and the repetitive action failed to calm her. Even that simple pleasure was gone.

  Todd crowded by her, down on one knee as if he were proposing all over again. Only he gently tugged her back and seated her on his thigh. “If the result of a joke is having you as my wife, then I’ll be a very happy man.”

  “No, you won’t. You’re going to eat groundhog every day for the rest of your sorry life.”

  “I hope you know a lot of ways to cook it.” He heaved a sigh. “Enough of the nonsense. These problems must be solved. Mountain ways are different than German ways. The issues themselves are small.”

  “Groundhogs aren’t all that small. I – ”

  His fingers pressed against her mouth for just an instant. “I’ll gladly eat it again. Surprises sometimes are shocking. And the differences come as a surprise, thus we were shocked. Just as you were about Monday laundry. But our home will be richer for having more knowledge and ways. In the first months, things are bound to come up. We will pray before and after we eat the groundhog, and our family will be happy.”

  “Ma’s never happy.”

  “I have spoken to her.” His voice took on a harsh edge. “As I said, what happened was wrong.”

  Ohhh. He wasn’t saying it was my fault.

  “That was one issue, but there is another. I am proud to have you as my wife. I told you, there is no other woman I ever considered to be the mother of my children. But we talk differently. It makes for misunderstandings. For me to say the Stauffers had good manners, you took that to mean I consider you rude. It is not so. I think highly of you. To say that I am grateful or that you are beautiful . . . these things are facts – yet I give them no voice. It makes them no less true.

  “The week in the holler, I heard more praise given from one person to another than in all my life, combined. Among you, the words were of encouragement. In my culture it is assumed that all will do their best, and to praise is to make them haughty.”

  His voice rang with sincerity, and his words held true. But it saddened her to think there had been such a lack of everyday, ordinary appreciation. It sweetened life.

  “Two ways of life. They have caused a misunderstanding in how we see the situation, not in how we see one another. My nature is to talk of the weather and crops and animals. Consider this a measure of my regard for you: Twice, now, we have had long, important conversations. And they were not about weather and crops.”

  She couldn’t give in. Not yet. “It was about animals. Groundhogs.”

  “See? Even trying, I fell short.”

  “I am far different from your horses – you cannot speak soft words and stroke my back a few moments and win my trust.” He said to withhold a truth was
the same as lying. In the holler, she’d have let the conversation end now. But this wasn’t the holler, and the time for stark truths ticked with the same measure as her aching heartbeat. Maggie struggled to find the words and failed, so she blurted out, “I don’t like you right now. Not one bit. You’d best know that my heart, mind, and soul aren’t always in accord. My soul tells me to forgive, but my heart aches, and my mind will always remember.”

  “For you to forgive is all I ask. It’s enough.”

  “Enough for you. You are absolved, and yet I – ” Scooting off his leg and kneeling in the hay, she leaned into the cow. Tears poured down and robbed her of the ability to say anything more.

  He remained so close, Maggie knew when he breathed. After a long stretch, when she finished the milking, he set aside the milk pail and helped her up. I’m an idiot. Why did I take his hand? She tried to separate, but he didn’t turn loose.

  “Margaret, I’m sorry.” He used his free hand to wipe her cheeks. “My heart aches to see you thus. I will always remember this day, too. Guilt does that – not just that what I did was wrong, but even more, that you are the one who will bear the wounds.”

  He and Ma sat down to sauerkraut and ham for supper. Maggie fried up the groundhog, but the only pieces on the table were on her plate. It smelled great. Savory steam wended up from it. Todd knew exactly how it would taste, too. After he prayed, he asked, “Where’s mine?”

  “Your supper is fine,” Ma said.

  “It is fine. But that is excellent. Margaret, you fried up more than two measly pieces.”

  She scooped up a bit of leftover succotash. “You only use Margaret when you’re mad or want something. Which is it this time? Or is it both?”

  “He’s not mad at you anymore.” Ma set down her fork. “Maggie, could I trouble you for a little honey, please?” As soon as Maggie’s back was turned, Ma whispered hotly, “Don’t be stupid. Eat what she put in front of you.”

  “Too bad we didn’t follow that advice yesterday.” Suddenly, an idea struck. Todd cut into his ham. “This is good ham, Margaret.”

  She let out a small, disdainful huff.

  As Maggie returned from the shelf where she kept the honey, Todd made a show of lifting half of his ham and putting it on her plate. Fast as lightning, he grabbed one of the fried pieces from her plate. She smacked his hand. He had trouble trying to look innocent and hurt. The look on her face was priceless.

  “What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, Wife.”

  Maggie made a show of sitting down and picking up the ham. Dropping it on his plate, she said, “You got it wrong.”

  “I did not!”

  “Sure and certain, you did.” Calm as could be, she speared the other half and plopped it on her plate. “That half was by sauerkraut. You took the bigger piece off my plate. A fair trade is for me to get the better half of the ham.”

  “You did.”

  A funny sound bubbled out of Ma. “He’s right. Sauerkraut is – ”

  Holding up a hand, Maggie silenced her. “Excuse me, Ma, but Todd and I are having our first fight, and I aim to win it.”

  “First?” Had he heard her right?

  She arched a brow. “First. It’s a new beginning. But I’m taking a stand here and now: Keep your sauerkraut to yourself.”

  Borrowing the word he’d seen her use at the end of her bargains, he felt joy clear down to his toes. “Deal!”

  A new beginning. They’d cleared the air, and he’d made sure to straighten out Ma’s attitude.

  Over the next few days, Maggie’s smile wobbled a little now and then, but now that Ma decided to be her better self, things would be far better. To top it all off, he could now drive Adam and Eve.

  At breakfast Saturday, Maggie mentioned, “I brought some of Mee-Maw Jehosheba’s tomato seeds with me, and I promised to share with Hope and Annie. Remind me to take them tomorrow.”

  “There are better reasons to go to church.” Ma scooped up a bite.

  “Yes, ma’am. Like the beautiful music and the prayers and listening to Parson Bradle read the Word of God and expound upon it. I’d saddle up a jackrabbit and ride it to get to church – even if we hadn’t gotten an invite to Sunday supper.”

  Unexpectedly, Hope’s giggle came through the open door. “I’d sit alongside the road to watch!”

  “You wouldn’t just watch. You’d cheer for me.” Maggie embraced her friend, who had come to switch her Dominiques for other hens that laid white eggs instead of brown. “How are you feeling? Have you been drinking enough milk? If you’re craving something, I’ll get it for you.”

  Maggie’s heart and arms stretched wide open to gather and hold her woman friends. They all took a shine to her, too. Linette stopped by every morning on her way to work and again on the way home. Leena Patterson dropped by on Thursday, wanting a particular feed sack so she could sew something. Maggie hadn’t yet located one, but Todd felt positive she’d come up with one – maybe even two.

  With the farm hanging by a thread, he couldn’t ignore that some of her bartering was advantageous. But in truth, he needed those stalls. Adam and Eve deserved more space, and before long, the colts would need stalls of their own. A barn was for animals – not an array of oddities and essentials. Certainly not for providing a woman with space to conduct a business of her own – especially when she obtained the necessities her husband ought to provide. Running horses or bartering – the barn was large enough for only one enterprise.

  “Todd?” Maggie gave him a quizzical look.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you’re still hungry. Normally, you’re hotfooting your way to the barn.”

  He took one last swig of coffee. “Never ask if I’m still hungry. I have a hollow leg.”

  Her features dimmed. “Paw-Paw jokes about that.”

  Intentionally misunderstanding her, he nodded. “Paw-Paw did tease me about it. He asked if my head was hollow, too.” Heading toward the door, he told Ma, “Donnerwetter. Stay inside.”

  “Thunder weather? It’s going to rain?” Maggie rushed back to the door. She frowned. “It’s too far away.”

  “Wouldn’t matter. It’s a dry storm. Clouds are wrong.” Todd set to his chores, wishing he’d been wrong. Nothing would make him happier than a good soaking rain.

  After church the next day, the men milled about and discussed the weather. Underlying it all was an ominous threat. Ranchers and farmers alike worried that they’d lose everything. Todd watched the bank manager hasten home. He attended worship, but he didn’t want to mix business with church. Too many of the congregation owed money and couldn’t meet their obligations.

  “I don’t envy his position,” Pastor Bradle said at lunch. “He can’t loan to men who desperately need funds because they’re so close to the edge and the risk is too great. One minute of gratitude when he first makes the loan, then men resent him for years to come. I’m afraid it’s going to get worse.”

  Maggie set down her fork. “We’ll be sure to invite him out to supper.”

  “At that rate, you’ll be inviting a handful of other people, too,” Big Tim Creighton said. He, Sydney, and baby Rose were also the Bradles’s guests. “Places like Clark’s Mercantile have extended credit and all sorts of grace periods. They own the feed and lumber and are having to turn away requests.”

  “Well, I have a request.” Sydney shifted the baby to her other arm. “Tim said the carriage feels wrong. I’m afraid to ride home in it until the Van der Vorts check it. Could you give us a lift as far as your place?”

  “If, perchance, we hopped off at our place and let you drive our buckboard on over to your ranch, could Ma hold the baby? I’ll tie my plaid to form a pocket that’ll keep Rosie safe and warm against Ma.” Maggie waggled her brows. “And I’ll have you know ’tis the proper clan for your daughter: Clan Rose!”

  Tim and Sydney exchanged an uncertain look. Todd didn’t want them put on the spot. He cleared his throat. “That plaid is mighty soft, too.


  Not long thereafter Maggie and Sydney sat on either side of Ma’s chair in the back of the buckboard. Pocketed in the Rose plaid, baby Rose slept the whole way home. Ma curled her right arm around her and beamed.

  While the women chatted, Todd took off his hat and wiped his brow. “Hotter than ever out here.”

  “Drier, too.” Big Tim grimaced. “My catch basin is bone-dry and my pond is down to half of what it ought to be. I went through this once before, and we had beef dying on the hoof.”

  Never Forsaken had a better water supply than any of the other ranches or farms. His admission underscored the desperation they all faced. Tim added, “Checkered Past is drilling for the third time, and still they haven’t tapped into water.”

  “My water is still clear. Several others have to strain their drinking water.”

  Watching crops and livestock fail was one thing; with hard work, they could be replaced. Losing a clean supply of drinking water risked loved ones. The men exchanged bleak looks as Todd pulled up to his place.

  “We cannot be home yet,” Ma complained. “I want to hold the baby longer. Take us for a Sunday ride.”

  Tim teased Ma and helped get her into the cabin. Walking back to join Maggie and Sydney, Todd overheard his wife. “I’m thanking you from the bottom of my heart. I’d never suggest anything that would put little Rosie in danger. Your kindness earned the first smile I’ve ever seen on Ma.”

  Tim held his daughter and pulled his wife closer with his other arm. “You don’t know what worry is until you have a family.”

  “You got what you asked for. Don’t complain now.” Sydney gave him a feisty grin.

  “No man knows what he’s asking for when he proposes. Does he, Todd?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  A look of mock outrage on her face, Sydney declared, “You knew more or less what you were getting, Tim Creighton.”

  “More and less.” Tim’s voice softened. “Less than I thought I knew; far, far more than I imagined.”

 

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