Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) Read online

  The children now spent time outside in the sunshine. Clare went with Clark whenever it was possible, and Missie enjoyed bundling up little Arnie and taking him out to play. When she tired of caring for the baby, she would bring him back indoors and return outside to dig around in a bit of ground that she dubbed "my garden." Marty had given her a few seeds, and already a few shoots of green showed where a turnip or some lettuce was making an appearance. Missie found it difficult to leave them alone and often was admonished for digging them up to see how they were doing. Her "garden" would have been much further along but for its periodic set-backs.

  Marty was about ready to ask Clark if he would turn the soil in the big garden but cautioned herself not to get into too big a rush. The nights were still cool, and early plants may yet be damaged by frost. Still, it was hard to wait.

  To keep from becoming too restless waiting, Marty put

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  every available minute into knitting two baby shawls. One was for Wanda's new baby and one for Sally Anne's. Missie loved to watch the shawls take shape, and at one stage even added a few stitches of her own. Marty had to request that Missie restrict her stitching to such as she had been given permission to work on. Then Marty proceeded to undo the extra stitches and to set the child up with wool and needles of her own.

  As Marty sat waiting for the potatoes to boil for supper, adding a few more stitches to the final shawl, Ole Bob greeted a newcomer with an awful racket. Marty had never heard him so fussed-up before. When she looked out the window at the approaching rider, she understood why. Never had she seen such agitation exhibit itself in the way that a man rode a horse. He was leaning well over the animal, using a rein as a whip and pumping with his legs as though his action could produce more speed for the animal. The horse, already lathered, was breathing hard and pushing on.

  As the rider swung through the gate and straightened up, Marty could see that it was Cameron Marshall.

  Clark appeared from somewhere and caught a rein as the man threw them from him and slid to the ground. He could barely stand and supported himself on the rail fence. Marty's thoughts jumped immediately to Wanda and concern filled her. She rushed from the house and met Clark and Cam coming in.

  She looked to Clark, for she felt that he would know her unasked question, and he did, answering her quickly to allay her fears.

  "Wanda's fine. She is in labor and Doc is there--but she is uneasy like an' she wants you. I'll hitch the team an' you can take Cam home. I'll bring his horse home later. She needs a rest now. She's already been to town an' back, an' now here."

  Marty looked at the foam-flecked, worn-out creature. So this was Cam Marshall's prize horse. She didn't look very promising at the moment, but maybe Clark would be able to coax some life back into her.

  "I'll be right back with the team," Clark said, and led the limping, tired animal away. Marty knew that Clark would

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  spend many hours of the evening ahead working over the horse.

  "Come inside," Marty spoke to the man before her. "I'll jest take a minute to gather a few things."

  He followed, though she wondered if he was really aware of what he was doing.

  "Sit down there," Marty said. She pushed the boiling potatoes toward the back of the stove. The meat in the oven gave off a delicious odor and made her feel hungry in spite of her anxious mind. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Cameron.

  "Do ya take cream or sweetenin'?" she asked.

  He shook his head. Marty wondered if he usually drank his coffee black or just couldn't be bothered to think about it. "You drink this while I get me ready."

  He did, though his mind didn't seem to be on it.

  Marty hurried to the bedroom and began to put a few things in a bag. She'd have to take Arnie with her, in case the hours dragged past his feeding time. The other two she'd leave with their pa.

  By the time she had put together what she needed and bundled her small son, Clark was in the kitchen talking to Cameron. Marty noticed with relief that Cam had downed the coffee. Maybe that would keep him on his feet at least.

  Clark helped her to the wagon where she deposited Arnie into a small box filled with hay and placed in a corner of the wagon for the express purpose of bedding down babies. She then took her place on the seat, and Clark handed her the reins.

  Cameron did not object to Marty driving the team. She was relieved over that, knowing that Clark felt that Cam in his present state of worry would push the team unnecessarily hard. Doc was already there, so Marty could drive sensibly. Even with this knowledge she urged the team forward and kept them travelling at a fairly fast pace. Wanda had asked for her. She planned to be there if she could.

  By the time they had reached the Marshalls' one-room cabin, Cameron had settled down and seemed again to be in possession of himself.

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  He helped Marty from the wagon, handed her Arnie, and placed her bag of belongings on the ground, promising to bring it in for her upon his return from caring for the team.

  Marty hurried in. She placed Arnie on the floor on her coat, promising herself that she would later see to having the box with its hay mattress brought from the wagon for him.

  She crossed to the bed at the far end of the one room. Doc paid little heed to her, for Wanda was getting his full attention.

  "May I talk to her?" Marty whispered.

  "Go ahead," he answered. "Quiet her if you can."

  Marty nodded. She slipped to the head of the bed and looked down at Wanda's pale face.

  "I'm here," she said softly.

  Wanda brightened some. "You came. I'm so glad. I'm scared, Marty. What if--?", but Marty didn't let her finish.

  "Everythin' is goin' jest fine," she said. "Doc is here. Shouldn't be long now 'til ya have thet fine son--or pretty daughter, thet ya been a wantin'. Jest ya take it easy an' listen careful to what Doc tells ya to do. He knows all 'bout birthin' babies."

  Wanda looked convinced.

  "I'll try."

  "Good! Now I'm gonna git yer man an' the Doc some supper. 'Member I'm right here iffen ya need me."

  Wanda gave a slight nod, then closed her eyes again.

  Marty squeezed her hand and left her to see what she could find to go with the meat and loaf of bread that she had brought along for their supper. She was thankful that Arnie slept.

  Supper was prepared and partaken of. Doc took a moment from his vigil to gulp a cup of coffee and eat a cold meat sandwich. Marty could read worry in his face. It unnerved her and made her fumbly as she cleared the table and washed up the dishes.

  The one small room seemed overcrowded with people and anxiety. Cameron left to pace back and forth beneath the stars. Marty found a moment to whisper an inquiry to the Doc.

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  "She should have delivered by now," he answered honestly. "I don't like it. The baby is small and sure doesn't need that added struggle to get into the world. I'm afraid that the extra time will weaken it. I'm thinking of sending for Mrs. Graham. I hope I'm wrong, but I'm afraid that once that baby's here, it's going to take all that we've got to keep it with

  Us."

  Marty prayed a silent prayer, the tears flooding her eyes. "I'll send Cam," she said.

  She carefully removed all traces of her tears. There was no need to alarm Cameron further. She went out into the cool night and found him sitting, head in hands, on the chopping block.

  "Cam," Marty said. He looked up worriedly.

  "Doc says he'd like to have Ma Graham here, jest as an extry like, so's one can sorta look to Wanda an' the other care for the baby when it comes. Doctors like to work with assistants like, an' me, I know nothin"bout deliverin' babies. Ya can take the team. Doc says there's lots of time."

  Cameron got to his feet. He seemed to be relieved there was something he could do.

  Marty returned to the house and listened for the team to leave the yard.

  "Good," she thought, "he's drivin' sensibly."

  The
long night dragged on. Cameron and Ma arrived and Ma relieved the doctor while he had a cup of coffee and then stretched a bit, walking around the farmyard.

  Marty made more coffee, consoled Wanda, and fed Arnie. There was no place to lie down. She looked at Arnie in his hay- filled box and envied him.

  Finally, just after the new day had poured its dawn over the eastern horizon, the new baby made his appearance. Marty had gone to the woodpile to replenish the fire and upon her return she heard the weak cry of a newborn.

  Wanda, too, heard the cry and a glad murmur came from her pale lips.

  "It's a boy," the doctor announced in the triumphant voice that a doctor uses on such occasions, but as he looked at the tiny baby he knew that a fight lay before him. The baby was

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  so very weak from his battle to be delivered that the doctor feared every breath might be his last.

  He nodded to Ma to take over with Wanda and carried the fragile bundle to the table.

  Marty was given orders to push the table nearer to the stove and spread the small blankets to receive the little one; and there, with his satchel opened beside him, the Doc took on a battle for life that would last for many hours.

  Every bit of his training and available medication was called upon to assist in the fight. Twice he thought that he had surely lost, but somehow a spark of life was again coaxed into the tiny body.

  And so it was, that twenty-eight hours later, when Marty and the doctor left for home, Wanda still had her baby boy, and Cameron's eyes spoke volumes regarding his thankfulness and appreciation. He even promised Doc his horse in payment for his services.

  Ma remained to spend the days with Wanda until she was able to be on her feet again. Cameron took a couple of blankets to the hayloft for himself, and spread a feather tick on the cabin floor for Ma.

  Already Cameron was making boastful comments about the boy that his son would become and of the great things that they would accomplish together.

  Marty returned home so weary that she could hardly guide the horses. Good old Dan and Charlie, given their head, found their own way at their own pace.

  Clark welcomed Marty when she drove into the yard, as did two excited children and a half-wild dog. Marty fairly dropped herself into Clark's arms.

  "It's a boy," she said, "an' he's livin'. Doc says thet he should make it now."

  Marty reached her bed with little Arnie. She held him close as she nursed him. He had been such a good baby through the whole ordeal. She kissed his soft head and then sleep claimed her. Clark found them thus. The contented baby, playing with bare toes and talking to himself, and the tired mother sound asleep.

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  Chapter 9

  Mrs. Larson

  The month of April not only brought new life into the neighborhood, but it also claimed life as well. Word came to Clark and Marty on a rainy Wednesday afternoon that Mrs. Larson had quietly slipped away in her sleep.

  Marty sorrowed that Clae had been the one to find her. The poor girl should have been spared that much at least, but Jedd had not been home at the time.

  The funeral was planned for the next day. The neighbor men built the plain wooden box in which the body was laid after the women had carefully bathed and prepared it for burial. Marty took one of her own dresses to lay Tina Larson to rest in, and Mrs. Stern spared a blanket to drape the inside of the coffin.

  The rain made the digging of the grave a miserable task, but all was in readiness by the appointed time.

  At two in the afternoon the wagons slowly made their way to a sheltered corner of Jedd's land where a short service of committal was performed. Clark and Ben Graham were in charge.

  Marty's heart ached for the two girls standing huddled together in the rain as they watched their only source of love and comfort lowered into the ground. She dared to go to Jedd after the service and suggest that she would be glad to take the girls

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  home with her for a few days until things were "sorted out." "Be no need," he answered her. "There be plenty to home to keep their minds an' hands busy."

  Marty felt anger rise sharply within her and turned away quickly to keep from expressing it. She wouldn't forget her promise to Tina Larson and would fight as long as she could to fulfill it--yet how was it ever to be accomplished? School would be starting in the fall and somehow those two girls must be there. She'd pray harder. God had mysterious ways of answering prayer, beyond man's imagination. She bit her lip to stop its quivering, wiped the tears that were mingling with the rain on her cheeks, and went to join Clark, who was waiting in the wagon.

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  Chapter 10

  Plottin' an' Plannin'

  The death of Mrs. Larson was still on Marty's mind. She could not rid herself of a feeling of heaviness for the girls. She knew that the poor little things were trying to cope with a situation too big even for an adult.

  She had visited the girls twice in the days following the funeral, taking fresh baking, vegetables and cold meat. Still her heart ached within her each time she thought about them. She decided that a visit to Ma was what she needed. Ma could help her think this thing through and come up with something that would help her persuade the stubborn Jedd to allow the girls their schooling.

  Marty had come to know the girls much better in the days of Mrs. Larson's illness. Nandry was the older of the two and was quiet and withdrawn. Marty feared that even now it might be too late to help Nandry come out of her shell and develop into a young lady capable of self-expression and self- worth. Clae was like a small flower kept out of the sunshine. Given a chance, she felt confident that Clae could burst forth into full bloom. Gradually Clae had lost her shyness with Marty, and Marty noticed that even though she was the younger, it was Clae who often took the lead.

  Marty set her chin determinedly. Somehow she must get that promised chance for those girls. At breakfast she approached Clark.

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  "It being' sech a fine day, I thought I'd give the young'uns some air an' pay a visit to Ma."

  "Fine," he responded. "Grounds not dry 'nough fer seedin' today. Ya can take the team. I'm gonna spend me the day cleanin' more seed grain jest in case it drys 'nough to plant the lower field this spring. I'll bring ya the team whenever yer ready."

  "Should be all set in 'bout an hour's time," Marty answered. "It'll be right good to have a chat with Ma. She hasn't been home from Wanda's fer too long. I'll be able to hear all 'bout how thet new boy be doin'."

  "An'--" Clark prompted.

  "An'--I'll maybe give her a chance to talk 'bout thet comin' baby of Sally Anne's. 'Magine she's gittin' right uptight waitin' on thet one; it already being' on the late side.

  "An'--" Clark said again.

  Marty looked at him. Okay--so he knew that neither of those reasons was the real purpose for her calling on Ma. She sighed.

  "I wanna talk to her 'bout the Larson girls. Clark, some- thin' jest got to be done 'bout 'em, but I'm not smart 'nough to figure out what."

  Clark pushed aside his empty porridge bowl and rose to get the coffeepot. He poured Marty a second cup and then refilled his own and returned the pot to the stove.

  So that's it, his eyes seemed to say, but he sipped the coffee silently. Finally he spoke.

  "Jedd Larson be a mite bullheaded. Seems unless he decides thet his young'uns need thet edjecation, there not be much hope of enyone changin' his mind."

  "I know thet. Oh, I wish thet I had me some way of persuadin"im. Do ya think thet you talkin' to 'im as a man might help?"

  Clark shook his head.

  "Jedd never did listen much to my say so."

  "It's mean," Marty stormed, "jest plain mean."

  "Don't fergit thet those girls git his meals an' wash his clothes . "

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  "It's still not fair."

  "Maybe ya'll have to pray the Lord to send on a new Mrs. Larson." Clark's eyes twinkled but Marty's flashed.

  "I wouldn't pray thet on eny woman--no matter
how ill I thought of her."

  Clark just smiled and rose to his feet.

  "Don't know of eny other way out," he said. "I'll have the team waitin'. C'mon, Clare, let's go git the horses ready. You too, Arnie, c'mon with yer pa."

  The boys both responded to the offer--Clare with a bound toward the door and Arnie holding up his arms to be carried.

  Marty hastened to clear the table and do up the dishes. Missie decided that it was her turn to wash and thus slowed down the procedure, but Marty knew that it was worth the extra time to encourage her helpfulness.

  Ma was glad to see them and hurried them into the house where her children welcomed the Davis youngsters and took them off to play. Nellie volunteered to entertain young Arnie, and Marty accepted her offer gratefully.

  Ma and Marty sat down to a cup of coffee, warm nut bread, and a welcome chat.

  "How's thet new boy of Wanda's?"

  "Tiny--but he's a spunky little 'un. He's got a lot of fight in 'im fer sure."

  "What did they finally name 'im?" Marty smiled, remembering the long list of names that Cam and Wanda were trying to choose from.

  "Everett Cameron DeWinton John."

  "Quite a handle fer sech a small bundle."

  "Seems so, but maybe someday he'll fit it."

  "I'm so glad he's okay," Marty said with feeling. "It would have crushed poor Wanda iffen she'd lost another baby." Ma agreed.

  "How's Sally Anne?"

  "She's fine, but she sure be tired of waitin'. Ya know how it can seem ferever. I called over to see her yesterday. Even got the cradle thet Jason made all laid with blankets, an' she's jest a achin' to fill thet little bed up. Still I don't think thet the