Julia's Hope (35 page)

I could agree with that. “I owe her. I guess I always will.”

Albert Graham nodded. “At least you’ve got the decency to be grateful. That was the best surprise coming down here. They told me you were cold as winter hills. I brought my father’s shotgun, in case I had to scare you out of here.”

Albert ended up staying overnight and part of Saturday. We went to Barrett Post’s to see the heifer he’d promised us. Albert and Barrett laughed and joked like they’d known each other for years, which was more than likely the case.

Emma wanted Albert to stay and go to church with us on Sunday, but he had to get back. So Juli got busy and made him a batch of cookies for the trip. He promised to send Robert a fishing pole he had around but didn’t have time to use. It sure was a relief to be parting on such friendly terms.

There seemed to be something different about Robert the next morning. He was up with the sunrise, slipping out of the house. I found him in the hayloft with the kittens and the Bible storybook he’d gotten from the library, reading out loud. That day, he went forward in his Sunday school class, even though no one else did and the other boys snickered just like he’d feared. He told me about it later and said he’d never been so glad to do anything.

Something was different about me too. I found that I was happy, even though I still didn’t know what to do about the barn or about anything else around here. Maybe it was because my wife and children were happy. Maybe it was because I found I could belong a little bit, just like they did.

Nobody argued to our faces at church this time or came bustling up to set Emma straight. Not even Miss Hazel, who snubbed her nose and turned her attention to Selma Turrey’s scandalous daughter who was caught wearing knickers the night before.

The next evening I sat down and wrote my mother a letter. It was the right thing to do. And it didn’t even matter if she didn’t write back. I had to tell her I loved her. I had to say that God can see much farther than any of us can, that he has a way of working out even the hopeless things if we just give him a chance. He planted us here because it was time. And here we’ll stay, until he designs it otherwise. That’s life. More of a marvel than I ever knew it could be. And not near so much in my own hands.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Julia

Chuckles the hen was sitting on four eggs now. And George Hammond came over, bringing two more hens to pay Emma for her help with the baby. I could almost taste the chicken we’d have come winter. He said he’d thought on bringing us another cow, but wasn’t sure we’d be ready for that yet, since Posts were already giving us one.

Sam didn’t get as much work with Barrett Post as he wanted in the next few weeks, and I knew it bothered him not to have the cash. But he did get Willard’s tractor running for George, in exchange for the pledge of a decent share of the crop for Emma. A promise I prayed Mr. Hammond would keep. At least he sent over a chunk of salt pork and a casing of sausage, just because Emma loved them so well.

I found myself doing a lot of singing, picking strawberries, and managing to do a bit better with the milk gravy. Corn and lettuce and all the rest came poking their little heads up, but days went by without any clouds, and I started praying for rain.

It was hard to wait for the blackberries and the hickory nuts and all the other things that come in their own good time. I kept on picking weed greens, even canned a few, hoping we’d have plenty of other things to can by the time the cold weather came. I felt a little scared, just thinking of the things we’d need by then. Coats and everything. Lord have mercy.

Emma gave her quilt to the Hammonds and started piecing a coat for Sarah out of scraps she had around. “I had me a crazy coat one time,” she said. “Sure did love them colors.” Seemed a little strange to be thinking of coats when summer was just starting. Sensible though. The way we ought to be.

Even though there was so much work to be done before winter, we still took the time to set Emma’s precious little violas in a spot of their own beside the shed, and to move a batch of black-eyed Susan and trillium up to the yard.

Sarah named our new puppy Whiskers just as soon as we’d gotten him home. He kept us up half the first night, but finally settled down to sleep right outside the back door. Now I have to step out real easy to keep from colliding with the bouncy little thing. He chews sticks and barks at all the critters he should bark at, and the place seems complete, now that’s he’s here.

If Grandma Pearl could take a look around, she’d say, “Julia, you’ve got yourself a home. Don’t worry about what you haven’t got. Do your best, and God will make up the difference.”

Leisha Kelly
is a native of Illinois and grew up around gardens and hardworking families. She and her husband, K.J., have two children, eighteen peaceful acres, and several pets. This novel is her first book.