by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May
“Well, he didn’t use my name, but Betsey said that Randy was certain he meant me.” Angie ignored the look of displeasure on Amy’s face.
Amy wiped the perspiration from her brow and continued to work over the fire. She was certain Tyler hadn’t meant Angie. How could he after the things he’d said? She wished she could ask Angie for more details without arousing suspicion, but Angie would pick up her interest in a flash. Besides, Amy reminded herself, Tyler had voiced his own interests and they certainly did not include Angie.
Angie was growing bored with Amy’s lack of attention. “I’m going back into the house. Ma will be here to help shortly,” she finally said and turned to walk away. Then she stopped abruptly and came back to where Amy was working with the wooden tubs for cutting the soap. “I almost forgot, Ma said that we’ll need about ten dozen bars of hard soap. She wants to give some to the Riggs since Anna Beth is due to have her baby any day. All the women in town have agreed to take care of something and we get to provide soap.”
Amy nodded and tried to mentally calculate how much rosin she’d need to add to make the soap set up and how much soft soap she’d have left over for their other house cleaning needs. “Tell Ma by my best calculation that’ll leave us with five barrels of house soap.”
Angie nodded and went on her way, while Amy still worried about Angie’s attraction to Tyler. She’d never really cared before about her sister’s flirtatious ways, but now with Tyler in the picture her sister grated on her nerves like fingernails on a slate. What if Angie ruined everything for her? What if Tyler ended up liking Angie’s fun-loving nature more than Amy’s quieter one? Maybe she should tell Angie that she cared for Tyler. Maybe then Angie would leave well enough alone.
Amy remembered then a verse from the Bible: “The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold thy peace.” The words of Exodus 14:14 seemed to haunt Amy throughout the day and by nightfall she was thoroughly convinced that she should hold her tongue and say nothing to her sister about her feelings for Tyler.
When only two days remained until Tyler’s return, Angie made an announcement that stunned Amy into an even deeper silence. “I’ve decided that I’m going to marry Tyler.”
Amy slapped the bread dough she’d been about to place into pans onto the floury board and began to knead it some more. She thrust her fingers deep into the soft mass again and again; Angie had stirred an anger inside her that Amy didn’t want to acknowledge.
“I see,” she managed to say at last.
Angie pulled up a chair, certain her sister would want to hear all the details. “His parents still live in Kansas City and that’s perfect for me. I could go and live with them and maybe I could even convince Tyler to get a big church in the city and quit the circuit. I just know I’d love Kansas City.”
“What about Tyler?” Amy found herself asking against her better judgement.
Angie laughed. For her, the situation was as fun as a good game of croquet. “Why, I’d love Tyler, too. What did you think, silly goose, that I’d marry a man I didn’t love? I think Tyler is one of the greatest men I’ve ever known and I just know we’d be right for each other.” Just then Dora Carmichael entered the kitchen to find Amy nearly destroying the bread dough. “Amy, what in the world are you doing?”
Amy looked down at the sorry mess. “Sorry, Ma, I was a bit preoccupied.”
Angie flashed Amy a look that demanded silence regarding their discussion, and Amy said nothing more.
“Mercy,” Dora said as she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m feeling a bit peaked.”
Amy placed a hand on her mother’s forehead. “Ma, you’ve got a fever. You go on up to bed and I’ll bring you some sassafras tea.” Amy pulled her mother to her feet.
“I hate to leave all this work to you girls.” Dora knew full well the load would fall to Amy.
“Nonsense, Ma. You’re sick and you have to get to bed before the shakes set in. Do you think it’s the ague?” Amy remembered her mother’s bouts with the sickness.
“Can’t rightly say that it feels that way, but time will tell. Better get the quinine anyway.” Dora headed toward the stairs. “Angie, you make yourself helpful,” she called over her shoulder.
Angie grimaced. “Ma must think I don’t do a thing around here,” she pouted, but Amy had no time to care. She had to tend to her mother, for she knew that prevention was crucial here on the frontier. If they were to have any chance at all of heading off a bad bout of ague or a serious fever of some other nature, Amy knew they’d need to work fast. When Saturday morning arrived, Dora was still sick. She’d suffered with the shakes and fever for over two days, but Amy felt certain her mother was getting better now. The only problem, however, was that this was the day Tyler would preach in Deer Ridge, and Amy could not leave her mother alone.
When Charles came in to check on his wife, Amy assured her father that she’d see to everything. “Just go on to the services, Pa, and tell everyone hello for me.” Amy tried not to sound too disappointed.
Angie had already put a deep dent in Amy’s sense of well-being by prancing through the house wearing her new blue plaid wool skirt. Every other word was Tyler this, and Tyler that, and Amy thought she’d scream before the buckboard finally pulled down the drive for town, with Angie securely blanketed at their father’s side.
When her mother was dozing comfortably, Amy went to stoke the fire in the stove. She couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks when she thought of missing Tyler’s service. How cruel life was and how unfair.
She tried to pray, but her heart wasn’t in it. Instead, she found herself whispering over and over, “Help me, Father, to understand. Help me to understand.”
By midday, Dora was feeling well enough to sit in a chair for a while and take some beef broth. Amy knew this was a good sign and tried to feel more cheerful. She tried to chat lightheartedly with her mother, but Dora could sense that something was amiss. Amy assured her mother that nothing was wrong.
When the hall clock chimed four, she helped Dora back to bed and went downstairs to tend to the other household needs. Soon, she heard first the wagon, then Angie’s animated laughter. Amy was anxious to ask her father what Tyler had preached on and hurried out to the barn, meeting Angie halfway.
“How’s Mama doing?” Angie’s voice was filled with real concern. No one could accuse Angie of not loving her family, despite her absorption with her own self.
“Much better,” Amy answered. “She’s napping now, but she was up earlier and even ate a little.”
Relief passed across Angie’s face. “I think I’ll peek in on her and then I’m going to bake some muffins,” she said and walked past her sister toward the house.
“Why in the world would you want to bake muffins, Angie? You know you hate to cook.”
Angie whirled on her heel and put her finger to her lips, indicating that Amy should be quiet. Amy cocked her head slightly and then realized that her father was talking to someone in the barn. Angie hurried into the house, while Amy made her way to the barn in time to find her father and Tyler sharing a hearty laugh.
Amy’s mouth dropped open. She had no idea he would accompany her father back to the farm and she looked down at her dress, realizing that it was stained and smudged from the ashes in the fireplace. She knew she must look a fright, but Tyler smiled warmly at her as though he’d genuinely missed her.
“How’s your ma doing?” Charles asked Amy when he’d finished hanging up the tack.
“Much better, Pa. She’s resting, but wanted to see you when you got home.” Amy tried to keep her voice even. In truth, her nerves were rattled, all because of the smiling giant who stood behind her father.
“You’ve done a good job by your ma, Amy. I’m deeply grateful for your love of her,” Charles said, reaching out to give his daughter a warm embrace. “I’m going to go see your ma now. Tyler, if you need anything, I’m sure this little lady will be happy to accommodate you.”
Amy blushed
a deep scarlet, and when her father was out of earshot, Tyler let out a hearty laugh. “Well now,” he said with a teasing tone, “how about accommodating me with the same kind of greeting your Pa got?”
He crossed the distance between them and lifted Amy into the air to whirl her in a circle. “My, but I’ve missed you. How in the world can you stand there so calm and quiet? I wanted to give out a yell when I saw you there.”
Amy had to laugh. “Put me down, Tyler.” She said his name with pleasure. How she loved this man! Now that she saw him again, she admitted the fact to herself. She chided herself that she might be feeling a mere childish crush, but her heart told her otherwise.
Tyler allowed her feet to touch the ground, and his hands left her waist. How he’d missed her! But had she missed him, too? Tyler couldn’t help but wonder. She seemed interested enough; she always responded positively to his touch, and she was honest to a fault. He knew he’d have only to ask her how she felt, and she’d no doubt spill her feelings. But could she love me, could she really love me, Tyler wondered to himself, the way I love her?
“So.” Amy pulled away from Tyler’s hold. Somehow she felt safer with some distance between them. “Why did you come to the farm today? I suppose Angie wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Your sister does make it hard to say no,” Tyler laughed.
Amy frowned, and Tyler couldn’t help but notice the furrows that suddenly lined her forehead. She had been all laughing and smiles one minute and now she looked sad, almost miserable. Tyler had no way of knowing that Amy was contemplating Angie’s plans to marry him.
A scream came suddenly from the house. Tyler and Amy whirled and ran across the yard. Smoke was pouring out of the kitchen door, and Angie stood screaming for help.
“Something’s burning!” she exclaimed, nearly hysterical. “Oh Amy, do something!”
Tyler and Amy shared a brief look, and then Amy moved past her sister into the smoke-filled kitchen. “Didn’t you think to check the oven before you fired up the stove? I had your supper warming there and now it’s burned.” Amy threw a look back at Angie. “Don’t just stand there crying, Angie, open the windows.” She looked past her sister to the towering man who stood behind her and added, “Tyler, would you go upstairs and tell Pa what happened? I’ll take care of this.” She took a potholder in one hand and covered her mouth with the other in order to ward off the smoke.
In a few minutes, Amy returned outside to deposit the hopelessly burned food. Angie soon joined her after opening the windows to let out the smoke. After the smoke had cleared, Amy went to work fixing them something else to eat, while Angie took the opportunity to court Tyler.
Amy tried not to feel angry about things, but it was difficult. She kept worrying that Angie was using Tyler and that somehow he would come to care more about her twin than about Amy. She attacked a ham, slicing off thick pieces to fry on the stove, all the while considering how frustrated she felt playing second fiddle to her more rambunctious sister.
When she had mixed up a batch of muffins, she started to relax a bit. If God wants you to have Tyler for a mate, she reminded herself, no amount of interference from Angie will matter.
Outside, Amy could hear the wind pick up and felt a chilly blast, cold enough to merit closing the windows. Placing the muffins securely into the oven and checking to make certain the temperature wasn’t too hot, Amy went around the house closing the windows.
She had just walked into the front parlor when she heard Angie’s voice. Apparently she had taken Tyler to the front porch swing in order to share her heart with him. “It must be wonderful to see so many different places, but don’t you ever get lonely, Tyler?” Before Tyler could answer, Angie asked him a second question. “I mean, don’t you ever think of getting married again?”
Amy felt her ire rising at her sister’s brazen behavior. Angie was being totally improper, even if Amy had wondered the same things.
Tyler’s laughter caught Amy’s attention, however, and she found herself eavesdropping to hear the answer to Angie’s questions. Did Tyler get lonely? Did he want another wife? Angie wasn’t as patient as Amy, and she prodded Tyler to speak. “Well?”
“I do get lonely, Angie. These open prairie plains are enough to do that to any man. And, yes, I do plan to marry again.”
“I see.” Angie thought a moment and then said, “Why don’t we go into the parlor, Tyler? I’m getting a chill out here, what with the sun going down.”
Amy heard the creak of the porch swing as its occupants got up. She had no recourse but to leave the parlor windows open and go out the back way. She wasn’t about to have Tyler or Angie catch her listening to their conversation.
She hurried to the kitchen and pulled the golden brown muffins from the oven. They were plump, just barely crisp on the tops, and Amy knew they were some of the finest she’d ever made. She hurriedly placed them on the table and added bowls of plum jelly and freshly churned butter. Then she turned her attention to the ham steaks and put some potatoes on to boil.
Soon the table began to take on the look of a proper supper, and Amy felt satisfied that she’d worked through her anger. She loved her sister and hated to think anything could come between them.
Amy was just about to call her family to supper when her father appeared in the kitchen doorway. Behind him were Tyler and Angie.
“It’s getting mighty late, Tyler. Why don’t you plan on staying the night with us?” Charles Carmichael invited.
“Oh, do say yes, Tyler,” Angie gushed. “I do so want to hear more about Kansas City.”
Amy glanced up, her soft brown eyes betraying her own desire for Tyler to stay. With a chuckle, Tyler sniffed the air. “How can I pass up the opportunity for such great cooking and company? My schedule’s pretty tight, but I’d be happy to stay. Thank you.”
“Well, it’s settled then.” Charles smiled. “I’ll ready a room for you.”
Chapter 6
Amy had more than her fill of Angie’s fussing over Tyler. Angie hadn’t really done anything improper, but Amy felt jealous of the control and confidence her twin boasted.
After clearing the supper dishes and putting the kitchen in order, Amy decided to retire to her room and leave Tyler to Angie’s wiles. Going quietly to check on her mother first, Amy found that Dora was feeling much better. She gave her mother a dose of quinine and a drink of cold water and then sought out the sanctuary of her room. She was contemplating her feelings for Tyler and the promise she felt God had given her about waiting, when a knock sounded at her door.
“Yes?” Amy called.
“Amy, Carl Riggs is downstairs,” said her father’s voice from the other side of the door. Amy opened the door to reveal his worried face. “It’s the baby, Amy. Carl thinks that Anna Beth is dying in childbirth. He needs you to come midwife ’cause Doc is out of town.”
Amy smiled, trying to ease her father’s worry. “Of course I’ll go, Pa. But every man I’ve ever known thought his wife was dying in childbirth. It’s probably nothing at all.”
Charles placed his hand on his daughter’s arm. “Carl says there’s a great deal of blood, Amy.”
Amy’s expression changed immediately. “I’ll get the birthing bag. Will you saddle the horse for me?”
“I can take you in the wagon if you like.”
“No, there won’t be time. I’ll have to ride like all get-out as it is.” Amy pulled on a heavy coat she used for outdoor chores. “I’ll be downstairs in just a minute.”
Charles nodded and hurried to saddle the horse for his daughter.
Amy grabbed what her mother had dubbed “the birthing bag.” It held the supplies the Carmichael women had found useful over the years during childbirth chores. Amy knew it had a collection of herbs for easing pain and bleeding, as well as the routine tools necessary for bringing new life into the world.
She fairly flew down the stairs and ran headlong into Tyler. She was startled to find his hands reaching out to steady he
r.
“I think I’d better come, too,” he said solemnly. “If the woman is truly dying, she may need me, too.”
Amy nodded, her eyes worried. “It doesn’t sound good any time there’s a lot of bleeding.” She glanced around the hallway for Mr. Riggs. “Where’s Carl?”
“He went with your father to the barn. Come on and I’ll carry this for you.” Tyler took the birthing bag.
Angie stood by the door, looking helpless and without purpose. Amy turned to her, realizing her discomfort. “Angie, you’ll need to care for Ma. I gave her the quinine just a few minutes ago, but you might want to look in on her shortly.” With those few words, Amy redeemed her sister’s obvious lack of nursing skill. With that behind her, Amy lifted her skirts and ran for the barn.
The Riggs lived in a two-room soddy about two miles from the Carmichael farm. Amy was off her horse and flying through the soddy door before the men had even managed to dismount. “Anna Beth,” she called as she entered the bedroom.
Amy was shocked by the blood-drenched sheets and bedding. Anna Beth had to be bleeding a great deal to have soaked through the quilted blankets that had been placed on top of her.
“Amy Carmichael,” a weak voice called out, “is that you?”
“It is, Anna Beth. Ma’s sick in bed, so I’m here to help you with the birthing. We need to get these wet things off you.” Amy started removing the quilts as Tyler and Carl entered the room.
“Dear God,” Carl moaned at the sight of the blood.
“Carl, I need you to get water boiling on the stove. Then I want you to cut me some strips from any extra sheets you have. It’s really important. I know you’d rather be here with Anna Beth, but I need you out there.” Amy motioned toward the kitchen. “Can you do it?”
Carl nodded, almost relieved to leave the sight of his dying wife. Tyler stood fast in the doorway. “What can I do to help?”
“Oh Tyler, we need to get her out of all this blood. Can you lift her while I cut the nightgown away?” Amy pulled the last of the bloody quilts away.