Love's Long Journey (Love Comes Softly Series #3) (14 page)
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Authors: Janette Oke
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warmth. "And if you should ever need a friend, my wife and I would be happy to welcome you to our home, as well."
Missie thanked him for his kindness and stepped out into the shimmering day.
"Anything you'd be a-carin' to do today?" Willie asked as they walked the short distance back to the Taylorsons.
"Yeah," said Missie, with longing in her voice, "I'd like to go for a long walk among some cool trees, or picnic beside a crik, or maybe just lay beside a spring and watch the water gurgle."
"Missie," pleaded Willie, "don't--please, don't."
"I'm sorry," Missie whispered. She tried hard to think of something that could actually be done and enjoyed in the heat of this dusty, drab town.
"We could call on the Weisses."
"All right," Willie agreed enthusiastically, relieved that she had thought of something. "I sure do hope thet Henry won't think I'm spyin' on 'im." He caught her hand in his.
That afternoon at the Weisses, they received such a hearty welcome that Missie's spirits lifted. Henry also was there, though he didn't seem one bit put out to have his boss appear. Melinda Emory was there, too, so the six of them settled in for a good visit. Kathy served cold tea, declaring the day to be far too warm for hot tea or coffee.
Missie was surprised at how quickly the time flew by. "Can ya stay fer supper?" Kathy pleaded.
"Oh, I don't think we can," Missie said. "We didn't say anything to Mrs. Taylorson, an' supper is at six."
She and Willie exchanged smiles.
"How 'bout iffen I run over an' inform yer good landlady?" Henry asked.
"Oh, but--"
"Why not?"
"Please stay," Kathy begged. "The men will be gone by next Sunday."
Missie weakened. "Well, I'm not sure what she'll think, butwell--okay. Iffen she hasn't started to prepare, she shouldn't mind, should she?"
It turned out that both Henry and Willie walked over
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together while the girls went to the kitchen to give Kathy a hand.
Mrs. Taylorson did not object. In fact, Willie got the impression that she was relieved at not having to fuss about for extras on such a warm day.
Kathy's meal consisted of fried meat, hot biscuits and gravy. It was served with love and laughter, and everyone enjoyed the time spent together.
"I know," Kathy said, after the dishes had been washed, "let's have a sing-song, for ol' times' sake."
The rest agreed. Henry went for his guitar, while Mr. Weiss tuned up his violin.
They sang all the songs that they knew--folk songs, love songs, dance tunes and hymns. When they were finished, they sang their favorite ones all over again.
It was late when Willie and Missie walked back to the Taylor- sons hand in hand.
"I'm afraid that we've broken Rule Number Six," Missie said.
"An' what is thet?"
"Bedtime is at ten o'clock," Missie replied in a mock stern voice. She broke into laughter, then quickly checked herself and added, "We'd better be careful or we'll break Number Two as well."
"An' thet is--"
Missie affected a gruff, deep voice again. "No loud talkin' or laughin'."
"Ya little goose," Willie said, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her close. "Do ya have 'em all memorized by number?"
"I think so. I've read them often enough."
"Speakin' of readin'," Willie said, "ya really should have somethin' on hand to read. I'll talk to the preacher tomorrow. He may have a good idea of what books can be had."
"Oh, Willie, stop frettin"bout me. I've got all that sewin' to do, and all that yarn to be knitted up, a piano to learn to play, and sewin' lessons to give. Surely it will keep me busy."
"Well, we want to be sure," said Willie.
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Chapter 20
Parting
On Wednesday Willie announced that the wagon train would be pulling out early the next morning. Missie had to bite her lip all evening to keep the tears from flowing. She hoped that Willie didn't notice, but of course he did. They retired to their room early so that Willie could get all of his belongings packed. It didn't take long. Time suddenly seemed to be heavy on their hands.
"Funny," Missie mused, "time is so short and precious, an' yet one doesn't really know how to spend it."
"Have ya everything thet ya need?" asked Willie for the umpteenth time.
"I'm sure that I have."
"Well, I'll leave ya some money, jest in case."
"Really, Willie, I don't think I'll be needin'--"
"Ya never know. Maybe somethin' thet ya need or be wantin'-- an' you'll need some fer church offerin'."
Missie only nodded.
"I'm glad thet you have Kathy an' Melinda."
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"Me too."
"I hope ya see 'em real often."
"Melinda will be workin'--but she promised to come over evenin's to sew."
"An' Kathy is free to come anytime--right?"
Missie nodded again. "The first thing that she wants to sew are some curtains for her kitchen window."
"An' ya can visit 'em too," continued Willie.
Missie agreed.
"Ya might pay a call on the preacher an' his wife, too. They seem like real nice folks. Jest don't stay out too late--please, Missie?"
"I won't. Promise."
"One can't be too careful."
"You're
the one that needs to be careful. Here I am all tucked away safe in a town, where the worst that can happen to me is to get dust in my eyes--an' you're tellin
me
to be careful. It's you that's goin' to have to take care, Willie."
Willie smoothed her hair.
"Won't much happen to me. I'm travelin' south with a whole passel of supply wagons, an' Henry be with me once we reach our spread. No need to worry none 'bout me."
"I s'pose so," Missie admitted. "I just won't be able to keep from it, though."
"I'll worry, too," Willie said his voice husky. "It doesn't pleasure me none to leave ya, Missie. If only there was some other way."
"I'll be fine." Missie tried for Willie's sake to say the words as though she really meant them.
"Missie," Willie hesitated, holding her close. "Missie--the wagons are to pull out real early in the mornin'. I don't intend to wake ya when I leave, so this will be my good-bye tonight. I love ya. I've loved ya ever since ya were a little schoolgirl."
"An' you showed it," she whispered, "by dunkin my hair ribbons in an inkwell."
"An' carvin' our initials--"
"An puttin' a grasshopper in my lunchpail."
"An' tellin' young Todd Culver thet I'd knock out his teeth
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iffen he didn't leave my girl alone; an' closin' yer classroom window when it got stuck; an' prayin' fer ya every single day--thet iffen God willed, ya'd learn to love me."
"You did that?"
"I did."
"Oh, Willie," Missie sobbed, pressing her face against him. "I'll miss ya so--so much."
When Missie awoke the next morning, she was alone in her bed, and Willie's things were gone from the room. An emptiness filled her that she could not have put into words; she turned into her pillow and sobbed. How would she ever cope? She missed him so already. She had promised herself secretly the night before that she would be sure to waken so that she might feel the comfort of Willie's arms once more. She felt annoyed at herself for failing to awaken; yet she had to admit that it would not have made it any easier to say good-bye again.
If only I was at home with Mama and Pa to console me.. . . They would understand about pain and separation. She recalled Willie's words when Melinda was grieving: "Yer ma an' pa knew such grief."
They had--and they had lived through it. And she could too. After all, Willie
would
be coming back. The wait wouldn't be so long--not really.
She forced herself to crawl out of bed, then bathed her face at the basin. She caught herself wondering if this was wash Number One or Two for this water, and if she could now throw it out and get some fresh. Her eyes moved to Mrs. Taylorson's list. The empty space for number twelve now had some writing beside it. Had Mrs. Taylorson come up with another rule? Missie crossed the room for a better look, and read Number Twelve aloud: "Number Twelve, Always remember that I love you--both of you."
"Oh, Willie, ya silly goose!" she cried as tears streamed down her freshly washed cheeks. She was going to have to wash her face again before going down for breakfast. That, for sure, would entitle her to some fresh water.
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Chapter 21
Putting in Time
Missie put her mind to settling in for the long stay alone. First, she sat down and listed all of the "must-do's" on a piece of paper. Then she listed all the "want-to-do's." Neither list seemed very long. How would those tasks ever keep her occupied until she was free to leave this town? She laid the list aside and went to her sewing material.
She spread out all the fabric she had purchased and drew up
a
tentative plan of just what she would sew from each piece. She then checked her yarn and listed the articles that she would knit or crochet. She laid that list aside as well and took a fresh sheet of paper. This would be her weekly visitation list--one call each per week on Kathy and Melinda and at least one call
from
them in return to use Missie's machine. She placed that list with the others and took still another sheet of paper.
She sketched out a week with a space for each hour of the day and filled in her proposed activities: sewing, sewing lessons, knitting, laundry, reading, visits, shopping (she didn't know what for, but it filled a space and the walk would do her good); she
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even included time spent at the piano in an effort to learn to play a bit. Her week still had many vacant hours and she didn't see how she could stretch out her planned activities to fill them.
She then juggled, rearranged and stretched all that she could. Finally, she filled in all the extra spots with the words "free time" and tried to convince herself that somehow "free time" should be cherished as a special liberty.
She had scheduled sewing for her first morning, so she began on a small blanket. As simple as the job was, she just couldn't keep her mind on it, so she laid it aside and tried to read one of the books the preacher had kindly lent her. After trying to read the first page three times, unable to concentrate, she tossed it on the bed.
"It's just no use," she muttered, grabbing up some knitting. "I just can't think clear!"
She had added only a few stitches to the sock that she was making, when Mrs. Taylorson called up the stairs.
"Ya have a caller, Miss."
Missie so wished that Mrs. Taylorson wouldn't call her "Miss," as though she were still a young girl instead of a grown married woman!
It was Kathy who had come to call. Missie almost cried with relief at seeing her friend so soon after the men had left.
"Did you come to sew the curtains?" she asked.
"Goodness, no! I don't think thet I could concentrate on sew- in' anythin' today. I jest had to git out fer awhile, an' I thought thet maybe you'd be a needin' it as well."
"You're absolutely right," Missie said emphatically. "Just let me get my bonnet."
The girls strolled through the streets of the dusty town, window-shopping and talking. Occasionally they entered a store, just to look around. Neither of them purchased a thing, but Missie returned home in better spirits, and Kathy promised to come over that very evening for her first sewing lesson.
In the afternoon, Missie sat down and made herself a calendar. She marked each day's date in big numbers, wrote Willie's name beside the first one, August 2, then circled October 25--it was as close as she could figure the baby's arrival date to be. In
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between the two dates stretched many seemingly empty days, but Missie intended to strike them off, one by one, in hopes that they would go quickly.
It was warm in the room, and Missie was feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, so she kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed to rest.
"It all will be worth it," she told herself. "By the time Willie comes for me and the baby, he'll have our house ready. I'll be able to move right in, 'stead of livin' cramped in that stuffy old wagon. Just think--our own home! I'll hang up the curtains that Mama helped me sew, spread out the cozy rugs, make up the bed with all those warm quilts. I'll put my dishes in the cupboards, set up the sewin' machine, put all the crocks an' barrels in my pantry--all those things that a woman be a-needin' in her own home."
She let the happy thoughts drive away the threatening tears and drifted off to sleep.
Kathy came that evening as promised. She was a little slow at catching on to the rhythm of the foot treadle having never used a sewing machine before, but eventually she had a good start on the curtains.
Day One was finally over. Missie crossed it off her new calendar with relief, and knelt beside her bed. Somewhere out there, in the dark, distant night, she knew that Willie would be remembering her in prayer as well. It helped to ease her loneliness.
At the end of each plodding day, Missie struck the numbers from the calendar in the manner of a general triumphant after battle. She had survived her first Sunday alone, her first hair- washing, and her first washday. She was working on her third day at the piano when Mrs. Taylorson called, "Miss, ya have a feller here with a telygram."
Missie fairly flew to the door. What news could be so important that it needed to reach her by telegram? Her heart thumped wildly within her, every beat crying, "Willie! Willie!" She accepted the telegram with a shaking hand and quickly scanned the small sheet.
"Received message--Stop--Praise God--Stop--Happy and concerned about baby--Stop--Isaiah"