Love's Unfolding Dream Page 7

  A matronly lady was next, and Marty looked over at Mrs. Colson. But it was not she who claimed the woman. A man stepped forward, one Marty did not know, and the two embraced and walked off toward a bay team that stood at the nearest hitching rail.

  Marty’s heart continued to hammer away in her chest.

  A younger man descended. He cast a glance in their direction at the two girls, nodded his head at the nearby men, claimed one piece of luggage, which he shouldered, then walked toward the hotel.

  Marty could feel Belinda quivering. The suspense was tying them all in knots.

  And then a young lady—no, a child, or was she a young lady?—stepped carefully down from the stage. A mass of curly brown hair hung beneath her hat, and deep brown eyes looked curiously around at the crowd. Marty started to dismiss her. Missie has fair hair, she argued with herself. And then the girl smiled. Smiled right at them. And Marty recognized Missie’s smile, and she knew with a quickening of her heart that she was looking at Melissa Joy.

  Clark must have known it even before her, for he had already stepped forward and was even now reaching to claim the hand luggage the girl carried.

  But she didn’t offer her luggage—she offered herself. With a glad little cry she threw herself into his arms. It was enough to propel Marty forward. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she hugged the girl to her, all doubts scattering like leaves in the wind as she held her close. In that one brief instant, she felt she already knew her granddaughter. She is lovely an’ sweet—she’s our Melissa! Marty rejoiced.

  EIGHT

  Getting Acquainted

  The ride home was a merry one. They quickly discovered Melissa was not shy. She chattered excitedly about her experiences on the trip. She gave them all an extra hug from Missie and Willie. She told them about Nathan, Josiah, and Julia. She talked about her father’s new barn and her mother’s huge garden down by the spring. Marty drank it all in, plying her with questions. There was so much she wanted to know, so much she longed to hear.

  Belinda and Amy Jo hardly got a word in edgewise. It did not seem to bother Belinda. She sat quietly, listening to all the information about her western family. Amy Jo did not look so complacent. As befitting her nature, she no doubt wished to be a part of the conversation with lots of questions of her own.

  She finally nudged Belinda with an elbow. “Bet they don’t even know we’re here,” she grumped, sounding like she was back to her sour mood during the ride into town.

  It didn’t matter all that much to Belinda. She knew she would have lots of time to talk to Melissa later. After all, they would be sharing the same room.

  Amy Jo must have thought of the same thing.

  “But why should you care?” she challenged. “Ya’ll be a livin’ with her. In the same room even. Ya can talk as much as ya like.”

  “She’s gonna be here fer a couple a’ years,” Belinda reminded her quietly.

  “Two years,” sighed Amy Jo. “Two years of not talkin’.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Belinda. She was truly weary of it all.

  “See,” pouted Amy Jo. “Ya don’t like me already.”

  “I do like ya,” hissed Belinda in her ear.

  “Ya do not. I knew it would be like this. I knew ya’d like her better.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Belinda chided. “I don’t even know ’er yet. Iffen ya keep on bein’ so silly, nobody’ll like ya.”

  Amy Jo turned to her corner to pout, and Belinda went back to listening to the conversation. Melissa had been tucked in securely between her grandma and grandpa so they might get acquainted on the way home.

  “ . . . And Mother said to be sure to give it to you the minute I arrived,” Melissa was saying, and then added with a laugh, “I hope she meant the minute I arrived at the farm, because it’s packed securely in my trunk.”

  Marty and Clark joined in her light merriment.

  It was the first that Belinda had known anyone who said “Mother” rather than “Ma” or “Mama.” It sounded so grown-up somehow.

  Melissa was going on with her description. “And Julia sent you a doily she made all by herself.”

  “Tell us about Julia,” coaxed Marty. “Is she like you?”

  “Oh no,” and Melissa laughed again. “She’s not at all like me. She does have brown eyes. Guess we all have Father’s brown eyes. But she is quite fair—more like Mother—and she is very quiet. Mother says God must have known that our house could only bear one talker—and that’s me.”

  Melissa laughed again, a joyful little laugh that seemed to make the sun shine just a bit brighter.

  “Julia is . . . Julia is sweet,” said Melissa reflectively. “She’s very unselfish, and she helps Mother without her having to ask, and she loves animals, and . . . and . . . I’m really going to miss her,” she said quickly, and there was a hint of tears in her voice.

  “But Mother says that time will pass very quickly,” Melissa continued bravely. “I sure hope so. I’m going to miss all of them. I’ve never been away from the ranch before—not even for overnight. We used to coax Father to let us go with him to the city, but he never took us—only Mother. She did all of our shopping. Father isn’t too fond of the city, I guess. But, my, I did see some interesting things on the way out . . .” and she was off again with her entertaining descriptions of people, places, and events, as she had covered nearly half a continent by train.

  “There was this young gentleman who offered to help me with my things,” Melissa was saying, “but Mother and Father gave me strict orders not to talk to strangers, so I just smiled as politely as I could and said I wasn’t allowed to accept help. He was nice enough about it.”

  “An’ how are yer brothers?” asked Marty.

  “Fine! Nathan is taller than Father, and Joe—he wants to be called Joe now—Joe is just a couple of inches shorter. But he might be the taller of the two when he stops growing. At least, that’s what Mother thinks.”

  “Oh my,” Marty exclaimed. “Oh my. I never dreamed of them bein’ that big—”

  “Father is helping Nathan to buy his own spread. It’s not far from ours. He wants to ranch, too. And Joe has some cattle of his own. He loves his cattle, but he says he might just wait and share the ranch with Father. Joe is more of a ‘homebody’—at least that’s what Mother calls him.”

  “Nathan have his eye on any young lady?” Clark interrupted to ask.

  “We’ve been teasing him about my teacher’s daughter—Elisa is the same age as Joe—but he’s not saying anything yet,” Melissa responded.

  “An’ yer pa?”

  “He’s just fine. He loves having Grandpa LaHaye there with him, but Grandpa is at Uncle Nathan’s ranch right now—though he did come over to tell me good-bye. They all came over, Uncle Nathan, Aunt Callie, and the family. And they all sent their greetings.” “Is Cookie still with you?”

  “Oh, he’ll never leave. He’s family!”

  “How many of the hands are still around—the ones thet we knew when we were a stayin’ out there?”

  Melissa stopped to think about it. She said she wasn’t sure who had been there when her grandparents had visited the West, so she would just name all the ranch hands.

  “Well,” she began slowly, “let’s see. We have Jake and Browny and Clyde and Tom and Hooper.”

  “They’re all new,” put in Marty. “This Tom an’ Hooper, we didn’t know ’em.”

  “And there is Shorty and Burt and Charlie.”

  “Didn’t know any of them, either. Is Smith still there?”

  “No, Smith left when I was small.”

  “Does Wong still do the cookin’?”

  “Wong? No, Wong died. About five years ago. We have a friend of Wong’s from San Francisco now—Yen Soo.”

  “Oh,” said Marty. “I’m sorry to hear thet Wong died—we liked him.”

  “Mother liked him, too. She had a hard time getting used to Yen at first.”

  “What happened to Wong?”

&
nbsp; “We really don’t know. He refused to go to a doctor. He said he had his own medicine, but he just got weaker and weaker. Cookie nursed him for months. But he didn’t get better.”

  A silence hung over them for a few minutes. Clark and Marty looked at each other, no doubt silently pondering whether Wong had ever come to know the Lord.

  “Well, thet’s our farm, jest up there,” Clark told Melissa.

  “Oh, it looks lovely—so big. I mean, the house looks so big. Ours is adobe and built low to the ground, but yours looks so tall—and so white. I love it! Mother said that I would.”

  “You will have yer own room, of course,” put in Marty, “but it needs redoin’, an’ we thought ya might like to choose yer own colors. So we decided thet while we were workin’ on it, ya could jest spend some time with Belinda in her room—iffen ya don’t mind.”

  For the first time Melissa turned around to look at Belinda. She gave her a glowing smile.

  “That will be fun,” she assured them. “Julia and I share a room at home. I was afraid I would be lonely.” Then she added, “Do you mind, Belinda? I mean—you’ve had your own room—”

  “I don’t mind,” Belinda said immediately, shaking her head. She would have said more—more about looking forward to it, counting the days, hoping that Melissa might never move out— but she caught Amy Jo looking at her and she decided not to make further comment.

  “We were goin’ to have the whole family in fer supper so ya could meet them all,” Marty said, “an’ then we thought it best to take it a bit slower. You’d never git us all straight at one time,” she laughed softly. “So it will be jest the five of us to supper. Amy Jo will join us at table.”

  Melissa flashed Amy Jo a smile that Amy Jo returned, a little crooked and wobbly. Melissa turned back to her grandmother.

  “Mother says that Uncle Clare and Aunt Kate live right near you—right across the yard. That must be so-o-o fun!”

  “It is,” smiled Marty. “You’ll git to meet ’em all in good time.”

  And then Clark was halting the team and helping each one safely down. All but Amy Jo—she jumped down herself, casting a peeved glance over her shoulder as Clark helped Melissa over the wheel.

  “I’ll bring in thet luggage later,” Clark informed them and began to unhitch the team.

  The rest of them proceeded to the house, Melissa exclaiming about everything as she went. Over and over she made comments like, “Oh, Mother told me about this,” or “It’s just like Mother said!” Marty said that Missie must have done a thorough job of acquainting her daughter with her new surroundings, and Melissa nodded vigorously in agreement.

  Belinda was asked to show Melissa their room and invited Amy Jo to join them, but she shook her head. She’d help Marty with the final supper preparations, she said.

  Belinda led the way to the room, and Melissa exclaimed many times about how much she loved it. Then Belinda took Melissa to see the room that eventually would be hers, explaining that Melissa was to choose her own wallpaper and curtains and spread.

  “Oh, I’ll love it. I’ll love it!” cried Melissa. “Mother has always done the selecting. I’ve never even been to the city. When do we get to go shopping?”

  Belinda shook her head. She wasn’t sure what to say. Would the yard goods in their little town suit Melissa?

  “We don’t go to the city much,” Belinda said slowly. “We shop in town nearby here.”

  “They have those things here?” asked Melissa incredulously.

  Belinda nodded. Of course they had those things.

  “Mother always had to go to the city for shopping. They had only very crude, basic things in the local stores.”

  Belinda did hope Melissa wouldn’t consider the store-bought yard goods “crude.”

  “Your town will be just as much fun as a city,” Melissa assured her. “I still get to pick.”

  The supper hour was a busy time. Melissa still chatted away— although, in her defense, much of it was in answer to the many questions she was asked.

  As soon as the meal was over and the family had read the Bible and prayed together—“We do this, too,” Melissa told them—she began clearing away the supper dishes.

  “Do you like to wash or dry?” she asked Belinda.

  Marty was pleased to see the young girl offering to help. She cast a glance at Clark to be sure he had also noticed. Clark had and nodded to her in answer.

  “You’ll need to tell me about my chores,” went on Melissa. “Julia and I had a list. Once in a while we’d change jobs—just so we wouldn’t get bored doing the same things over and over. Mother didn’t care—just as long as all of the chores were properly done.”

  Belinda nodded, glad to have someone to share the household duties.

  “What do you like to do, Amy Jo?” asked Melissa.

  “I don’t live here,” Amy Jo was quick to inform her.

  “Oh, I know—you live in the log house. Right? That must be so much fun! I’ve never lived in a log house—but my mother lived in a soddy once. Anyway, I just meant for tonight—for now. What would you like to do for now?”

  Amy Jo, who hated to wash the dishes and wasn’t too fond of wiping them, either, said, “I’ll put things away.”

  Clare came over to help Clark with the luggage. Melissa seemed to have brought enough things for three or four girls. One trunk was especially heavy.

  “Whewee!” exclaimed Clare. “What’s thet little lady got in here? Gold?”

  “Didn’t see much gold layin’ round when I was out there,” Clark responded.

  “Oh, Grandpa,” Melissa exclaimed, sounding like she was enjoying the teasing.

  The luggage was all carried up to Belinda’s room. Melissa could now begin to unpack. Belinda showed her the empty drawers and the closet space, and she and Amy Jo both lounged on the bed to watch the unpacking.

  Belinda was sure that Melissa’s things would never fit in the allotted space. She must have scores of dresses, Belinda thought with a twinge of envy.

  Melissa’s clothes were of fine quality and good workmanship. Belinda was sure her ma would not need to worry about preparing Melissa’s wardrobe for the school term. But it was not the clothes that took all the space—Melissa’s garments were really no more plentiful than Belinda’s own. Books filled the heavy trunk and seemed to be Melissa’s prized possessions—treasured volumes obviously captured her time and attention. Belinda and Amy Jo looked on in wide-eyed disbelief.

  “Where’d ya git ’em all?” asked the candid Amy.

  “As gifts,” responded Melissa. “I love books. That’s what I always ask for when Mother and Father go to the city. That’s what I ask for on birthdays and Christmas—and other times, too.”

  Belinda let one finger trace the leather cover of a book lying on the top of the stack.

  “Do you like books?” Melissa was asking.

  Belinda nodded, but Amy Jo spoke for herself.

  “I love ’em. I love ’em—but I’ve never see’d so many—not in all my life.”

  “You can borrow my books if you wish,” Melissa was quick to inform them.

  “Oh, could we? Could we? I’d love to. What’s this one?” asked Amy Jo, hopping off the bed to carefully lift one from the trunk.

  “It’s a book on nature,” replied Melissa.

  “It’s got lots of pictures!” exclaimed Amy Jo excitedly.

  “Illustrations,” Melissa corrected softly.

  “How’d they git these pictures?” continued Amy Jo, ignoring Melissa’s comment.

  “An artist drew them.”

  “Drew ’em? Ya mean—with a pencil?”

  “Or paints—or inks.”

  “Drew ’em,” Amy Jo mused in a daze. “They look so real.”

  Melissa was called downstairs to come meet her aunt Kate and three boy cousins. Amy Jo did not move from her seat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were fixed to the pages of illustrations. How could anyone make such true-life drawings! she marveled.
But she’d sure like to try. She’d love to try. Something deep within her responded to the artwork in the book. Her eyes grew bright with hope as she studied the work. Oh, if only I had such a book. Her eyes went back to the trunk. So many—she’d had no idea this cousin from the West would have such treasures. And to think that she would be willing to share them! It was almost too good to be true.

  Amy Jo sat for a long time, slowly paging through the fascinating book.

  Clark and Marty knew Melissa must be terribly weary after her long trip. She did not protest when they suggested bed, saying that they could catch up on the rest of the news later.

  Clare, Kate, and their family had returned to their log home across the yard, Amy Jo tightly clutching the illustrated nature book that Melissa had been more than willing to lend. Amy Jo promised she would be back in the morning as soon as her chores were done.

  Marty sat quietly fingering the gifts from Missie that Melissa had promptly dug from her opened trunk as soon as she was able. The evening had been a satisfying and exciting beginning for all of them.

  Melissa followed Belinda up the wide stairway and into the bedroom still strewn with books from her unpacking. As she gathered them up, she was glad she did not need to spend this first night alone in another room. She missed Julia. She missed her mother and papa. She even missed her two teasing big brothers.

  Belinda folded back the spread, looking a bit shy.

  “Do ya want the back or the front side?” she asked Melissa.

  “You pick,” encouraged Melissa. “It’s your bed.”

  “I don’t care,” insisted Belinda.

  “Then I’ll take the back. That’s where I sleep with Julia.”

  Without further comment the two prepared for bed, said their prayers, and climbed between the fresh sheets. They said a simple good night to each other and did not talk any further.

  Melissa’s tired thoughts took her back over the miles to those she had left behind—to her home, her room, her family as she had left them. Oh, how she would miss her family! But she took herself firmly in hand and told herself she was going to really like it here on the farm, with her wonderful grandparents whom she loved deeply already. And Belinda and Amy Jo . . .