by Judith Pella
“Maggie! Maggie!” Evan cried, his voice registering true distress. “I’m coming for you!”
“Stop!” she yelled as she thumped to the bottom. But it was too late. In a moment Evan was at the bottom of the ditch beside her. He landed with a muddy splat! She could no longer restrain her mirth and nearly rolled in the mud laughing.
Evan stared, mystified. He was obviously unable to see the humor in this state of affairs. Filled with an evil desire to break through his seriousness, Maggie grabbed a handful of mud and tossed it at him like a snowball. She had a very good aim for a girl and struck him square in the nose.
“What—!” he sputtered.
She was practically howling now. In her amusement she closed her eyes for a moment, not aware of what a perfect target she made and certainly not expecting that the solemn Evan would react until a wad of mud suddenly filled her mouth.
She gagged, spitting and sputtering.
Bubbles of laughter finally escaped from Evan. Maggie gave him a shove, but she was laughing again, as well.
“Guess we don’t have to worry about getting dirty anymore.” Maggie giggled.
“I don’t think you were worried much about that in the first place,” he said dryly.
“I haven’t had this much fun in an age,” she replied, amusement still rippling through her voice.
“Still, I’ve ruined another one of your dresses.”
“I think I’ll go back to wearing overalls. You should, too,” she said. “Think of the fun we could have then! I’ll take you fishing and berry picking—I know a patch up by the pond that is good and ripe—” She stopped, seeing a very peculiar look on Evan’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Suddenly he was more flustered than when he’d had a mouthful of mud. “Nothing!” He scrambled to his feet. “We better see to the carriage.” He held out his hand for her, and as he drew her to her feet, his expression still looked strange, as if he’d gulped down more than mud.
After several attempts, they made it up the slippery ditch. Evan had to straddle the edge of the ditch precariously in order to examine the wheel shaft. Maggie stood close by on more level ground, her hands ready to steady him should he lose his footing again.
He scratched his head. “To be honest, Maggie, I haven’t the slightest idea how to fix this. We may have to walk the rest of the way home. Do you mind?”
“I don’t know,” she deadpanned. “I might get dirty.”
“At least it has stopped raining,” he offered.
“I say we eat something before we go. There’s a good four or five more miles to home.”
Using a jug of water that was kept in the back of the carriage and some napkins Mama had packed in the picnic basket, they cleaned some of the mud from their hands and faces. The meal of bread and cheese and apples was eaten with a liberal helping of grit, yet Maggie thought it was one of the best meals she’d ever had. They ate standing up in ankle-deep mud with the basket sitting on the floor of the tilted carriage. They talked and laughed some more over the incident, and when they finished eating, Maggie suggested they ride the carriage team home, since they were going to have to unhitch the horses and bring them back anyway. She almost regretted her suggestion. The five-mile walk with Evan would have been enjoyable. But the ride was almost as good and more of an adventure because Evan hadn’t ridden a horse bareback since he’d been a boy. He was having so much trouble making his horse, who wasn’t accustomed to carrying riders, go in the right direction that finally Maggie suggested they ride double and lead the second animal.
It was hard to tell under all the mud still caked on his face, but Maggie thought he got a bit pale at the idea of riding double.
“No,” he said, “I refuse to let this beast win.” And with renewed tenacity, he managed to get the animal to obey his commands.
It started to rain again, and by the time they arrived home, they were wet to the skin. Maggie would have liked to invite Evan to supper, but that was impossible. He needed to get home and take a bath and then see to the carriage. He did accept her invitation for the next day to have another dance lesson and supper afterward.
As soon as Evan departed, Mama set up the tub on the back porch and began heating water for Maggie’s bath. Standing by the fire in the hearth with a quilt wrapped around her shivering body, she thought about the day. Though it had gotten off to a shaky start with the visit to Tommy and his slip about what he had told her before his father’s death, it had ended rather pleasantly. If only Colby had been there instead of Evan! Yet if so, would she have had the same fun with Colby? Had she ever had such fun with him?
No, she couldn’t remember ever having such a day with Colby. She’d never even gone on an outing with him except to events where large groups of people were in attendance. Surely those couldn’t count. Besides, he’d always been pursuing Ellie, and Maggie had always been in too much of a dither around him to even begin to have a good time.
Here she was about to spend another day with Evan when it should be with Colby. But she couldn’t ask Colby. What if he said no? Moreover, it made her shaky inside just thinking of it.
When the tub was full, Maggie shed her muddy clothes and slipped into the nice warm bath. The back porch was covered, so it was protected from the rain, and Mama set up a folding screen to give her privacy. The Parkers had an indoor bathroom with a fancy claw-foot tub. Evan was probably using it right now. Suddenly Maggie turned red at the thought of Evan taking a bath.
Ellie poked her head around the screen. “Here’s a towel for you—what are you all red for? Is the water too hot?”
“Must be,” Maggie said, grasping at the ready excuse.
Ellie laid the towel over the back of a chair. “You sure had a miserable trip to town.”
“I don’t know. It was actually kind of fun.”
“That’s right. You don’t mind getting dirty. Evan must have been upset to ruin his expensive suit.”
“He was more worried about my dress. And he wasn’t that upset. We . . . well, it was fun. He’s a lot of fun when he stops being so serious.”
“Oh really?” Ellie arched her brow, a knowing glint in her eye.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you have been spending a lot of time with Evan lately.”
“And you know why.” Maggie gave her head a shake, knowing her wet hair would spray all over Ellie.
Ellie squealed and jumped back. “Maybe you are barking up the wrong tree, Mags.”
“Oh, please!” Maggie laughed at the outlandish implication of her sister’s words. “Can you imagine the cow Mama would have if I took up with Florence Parker’s son?” She laughed harder. Around her giggles she added, “Almost as bad as if I took up with the fake minister.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she realized how insensitive they were. The stricken look on Ellie’s face didn’t help. “Ellie, I’m sorry! You know I was just joshing you. Mama loves Zack.”
Ellie took a shaky breath, then plopped down in the chair. “Do you really think she does? Oh, I think she does love him, but I’m not so sure she loves the idea of him being her son-in-law. The other day she questioned me about our future, and I didn’t have many good answers for her about how we would live, especially with his debt. She got that look, you know, the one where she really disapproves but is trying to hold it in.”
“I never liked that look.” Maggie soaped up her hair and gave her head a good scrubbing. “Do you love Zack?”
“I love him more each day, and I like him more every day I get to know him better!” Ellie said emphatically. “I talked to him about what Mama said, and he feels we should wait to marry, maybe a whole year, at least till next summer.”
“And you were hoping for a Christmas wedding.”
“Perhaps Christmas of eighty-four,” Ellie said glumly.
“You sure don’t want to be poor as church mice when you marry,” Maggie said, surprising even herself at her practicality. “You’re going to wan
t children, and you don’t want to live like the Arlingtons. Poor Louise looks ten years older than her twenty-five years. She works harder than anyone I ever saw—taking care of three kids, practically running the farm all the time because Lewis has to go away for work so often to make ends meet. I doubt even Mama and Dad had it that hard when they first married.”
“To hear such wisdom from you, Mags, makes me truly think twice.” She looked pale but smiled all the same. “You really are maturing, aren’t you?”
“Maybe where other people’s love lives are concerned.” Maggie dunked her head into the water, massaging the soap out of her hair. When she lifted out her head, Ellie handed her a towel to dry her eyes. “I can’t seem to get it right with Colby. I’m spending all my time with Evan to help him win Tamara in order to get her away from Colby. In the meantime Tamara and Colby are probably spending tons of time together.”
Maggie groaned. “Everything I do only makes it worse!” She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself as she stepped from the tub.
“Maybe the party Saturday will help,” Ellie offered hopefully.
“I hope so. I am running out of ideas.”
SIXTEEN
Maggie was a domestic wonder for the next two days. Besides Evan’s dancing lessons and sewing lessons with Tamara, she worked with Grandma and Ellie baking for the party. Mama helped with this, as well, as Maggie knew she would. Maybe the delicious smells wafting through the house also motivated Maggie with her sewing. She finished the first three blocks for her sampler, and they looked quite nice—perhaps nicer than Tamara’s, though Maggie would never say so.
The day of the party was perfect. It was one of those beautiful September days that made you think it was still summer. The earlier rainy days had cleaned everything off, leaving a sparkle to the landscape. It was sunny and warm enough to hold the festivities outdoors, and like the previous party, the quilting frames were set up outside. The ladies would quilt all day and then later, when the party began, the refreshment table would be set up outside, as well, with lanterns strung around the yard for light.
The quilting bee for Kendra’s wedding quilts got the day off to a great start. With Maggie seated at a frame beside Grandma, and Tamara on the other side, Grandma instructed them both on their quilting stitches.
When Mrs. Stoddard walked by, she actually paused and complimented Maggie’s work. Maggie swelled with pride, and hope. The fact that Mrs. Stoddard’s comments about Tamara’s work weren’t quite as enthusiastic didn’t give Maggie as much pleasure as she would have imagined. In fact, when Tamara asked Maggie for help, Maggie gladly gave it. She didn’t mention that she had been practicing on the sly in her free time. Ellie had given her a doll quilt she had started years ago but hadn’t finished, and Maggie had been working on it, her quilting stitches getting smaller and more even with each try.
When the dancing started later in the evening, her confidence was soaring. The first reel was announced, and the men fanned out to ask girls to dance. Maggie had her eye surreptitiously on Colby and was certain he was heading in her direction. But before he could reach her, Evan appeared at her side.
“May I have this dance, Maggie?” he asked.
Out of the corner of her mouth, she murmured, “What are you doing? You’re supposed to ask Tamara.”
“I . . . ah . . . thought just a little practice dance first,” he stammered. “You know, to make sure I have it right.”
“You’ll do fine,” she said with forced patience. But she saw Colby change his direction and now head for Tamara. It was too late. “Okay, one dance.” She gave Evan her hand.
The dancers lined up, there being enough for two sets of six couples. Maggie made sure she and Evan were in the same set with Colby. At least she would get to dance some of the moves with him.
The music started. Evan turned her right hand, then turned her left hand. He did very well, though his expression was etched with deep concentration and his lips moved slightly as he silently counted the beats.
“Do-si-do!” called one of the musicians. Evan stepped on her toe once, but she pretended not to notice. He became flustered and almost did it again. This time she laughed and skipped out of his way as if it was part of the dance. When it was their turn to sashay down the middle of the line, she whispered, “Evan, smile. Act like you’re having a good time.”
“I am having a good time.”
“You look like you’re being tortured.”
“Oh.” He plastered a smile on his face, and though Maggie couldn’t say the stilted expression was an improvement, at least he was trying.
When it was time to “reel the set,” Maggie worried about letting Evan be on his own. However, there was no choice. It was their turn to hook elbows and dance a turn with new partners all the way down the row. She uttered a silent prayer that he wouldn’t hurt any of the girls. She heard a couple of feminine yelps, but when they met back in the middle, he smiled at her. Apparently he hadn’t done too badly.
After the dance Maggie made sure she and Evan were standing next to Colby and Tamara so that when the next dance began, there would be no mistake in the pairing up. Even at that she had to give Evan a covert elbow in the ribs to remind him to ask Tamara. He finally did, and it was quite natural, since they were both right there, for Colby to ask Maggie.
Everything started going wonderfully for Maggie. When another reel started, Maggie managed to nudge Colby over to the refreshment table while Evan and Tamara lined up for the dance.
“All that dancing works up an appetite,” Maggie said.
“That’s the truth!” Colby agreed. He grabbed a couple of plates, handed one to Maggie, then began piling food onto his. “Besides, my feet are killing me. I’ve been working twelve, fifteen hours a day between the farm and the mill. Don’t know how I found the strength to dance anyway.”
“You poor dear!” Maggie said with doting sympathy. They went to sit on one of the benches Dad had set about the yard. “I have been meaning to mention that I want to come to your place and lend a hand with the chores. The families of the Sewing Circle want to help out until your father gets back on his feet.”
“That’s awfully kind of you, but with Tamara and Sarah, Mother has plenty of help in the house—”
“I was thinking of helping you, Colby,” Maggie said quickly. “I can help with feeding the animals, cleaning out the barn, whatever you need.”
He smiled. “I guess I almost forgot, with you wearing dresses lately, that you are as good as any fellow on the farm.”
She thought that was a compliment and smiled back. “I can come over Monday, and you can show me what needs to be done.”
They concentrated on their food for a few moments, but Colby’s earlier statement about all the work he was doing gave her another idea.
“Colby, you know the old adage, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ Not that you could ever be dull, but I expect you might need some fun, too.”
“This party sure fits the bill!”
“Yes . . . well . . .” She hesitated, knowing what she was about to ask was terribly brazen, but she’d begun to think that her working at the Stoddard farm wasn’t going to be enough to grab Colby’s romantic interest. “This weather isn’t going to last forever,” she went on in a rush. “I think you—uh—we, need a picnic. You aren’t planning to work tomorrow, are you? It’s Sunday.”
“Just the regular chores.”
“Then how about it?”
“Will you bring your mama’s apple spice cake?” he asked with a grin.
“You can count on it!” She grinned back at him. A picnic with Colby! Could life be more perfect?
When she looked up, Evan and Tamara were approaching with plates of food. Maggie had been so absorbed with Colby she hadn’t even noticed that the reel had ended. Tamara didn’t look too distressed, so it must have gone well with Evan. However, though they were walking side by side, they did not appear at ease, especially Evan, who seemed rath
er stiff, until he saw Maggie. Then he smiled.
“May we share the bench with you?” Evan asked.
There was room for four on the bench, but Maggie was loath to give up her time alone with Colby. Scooting closer to Colby, she consoled herself with the fact that she and Colby would have all afternoon tomorrow together. Evan sat in the space next to her, and before she could get Colby to move over, Tamara had taken the space on the other side of Colby.
Did she have to do everything for Evan? He should have assessed the situation and made sure he sat next to Tamara.
Tamara fanned herself. “Goodness, I haven’t danced so much in ages! This is such an enjoyable party.”
“Say, I’ve just had a terrific idea,” Colby said. “Maggie and I were talking about extending the fun into tomorrow by having a picnic. Why don’t you join us?”
Maggie nearly dropped her plate. Her mind raced, trying to think of reasons why Tamara shouldn’t join them, but she came up blank.
“Oh, I’d love to!” Tamara enthused.
“Of course, you must come, too, Evan.” It was all Maggie could think of to salvage the disaster.
Maggie was up the next morning while it was still dark in order to make apple spice cake. When Mama came down an hour later, she was greeted by a cloud of flour dust in the air, pans and bowls everywhere, and Maggie up to her elbows in flour and batter.
The look on Mama’s face indicated she’d been awakened by the clatter and wasn’t happy about it. “What is going on? You are going to wake the dead.”
“I’m making spice cake for the picnic,” Maggie said, unconsciously lifting the wooden spoon she was using to stir the cake batter and spewing batter all over, just missing Mama.
“What picnic?” Mama asked, moving quickly out of the line of fire.
“Uh . . . some friends and I are going on a picnic today.”
“We have church today. What friends?”
“After church,” Maggie said, hoping to deflect Mama’s final question. “I wouldn’t miss church. It was so nice of Reverend Barnett to include us again in his circuit this month.”