Love's Long Journey (Love Comes Softly Series #3) (25 page)

198

coat she frantically clawed at the lid with a hammer from a peg near the door. The lid came loose with a loud squeak.

She rummaged through the medicines, having no idea what she should be looking for. Willie paced the floor holding the young Nathan upright in an effort to ease his troubled breathing. Suddenly there was a "hullo" outside the door and, without even waiting for a reply, Cookie burst in.

He did not ask questions. His eyes and ears had already taken in the answers.

"Croup!" he said explosively.

"What?" Willie exclaimed.

"Croup."

"You know what it is?"

"Sure do. Thet breathin'--thet's croup."

"Can you--?" Missie was afraid to ask.

"Can sure try. Git the fire goin'. Make it as hot as ya can and git some water boilin' fast."

Willie handed the struggling baby to Missie and hurried to comply. He filled the stove with cow chips and soaked them with fuel from the lamp. A brisk fire was soon blazing. Willie set the kettle directly over the flame, though it still seemed to take forever to boil.

Cookie placed a stool in the middle of the room.

"Git me a blanket."

Willie whipped a blanket from their bed.

"Now we need a basin fer the water."

Willie pulled the dishpan from its hook.

Cookie busily dug through the medicines that Missie had strewn across the table. He carefully read labels that had been placed on each one by Missie's mother.

"This oughta do," Cookie said. "Got a spoon?"

Willie handed him a spoon and Cookie poured out a large helping of the ointment and dumped it into the basin. The water finally boiling, Cookie poured it into the pan and held out his arms for the baby. Missie was reluctant, but Cookie seemed to be their only hope. She passed over her small son.

"Put some more water on and keep thet fire goin'," Cookie ordered and sat himself down on the stool.

"Now push thet basin over here, an' toss thet blanket over the

199

both of us. We gotta have us a good steam bath."

They covered the two of them and then waited silently. Willie poked at the fire and Missie paced the floor in the small space left to her, listening painfully to Nathan's choking, rasping efforts to breathe. The minutes ticked by. From beneath the heavy blanket came Cookie's voice, startling both Willie and Missie.

"Thet other water boilin' yet?"

It was.

"Pull out this here basin an' change the water. Put in another scoop of the medicine, too."

It was done, and Willie pushed the steaming pan back under the blanket tent, being careful not to release the build-up of steam already trapped within.

Again Missie paced and prayed, while Willie poked at the fire and prayed. He stuffed in another chip every time that he could make one fit. The room was becoming unbearably hot.

Nathan began to fuss.
Was he worse?
Panic seized Missie.

"Good sign," Cookie called out. "Before, he was too busy fightin' fer breath to bother to fight the steam. His breathin' seems to be easin' some."

It has,
Missie thought with wild joy.
He's not chokin' near as much.
Her tears began to fall as she repeated softly to herself, "Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee--" Missie could go no further. Sobs of thankfulness were crowding out all other thought. "Oh, dear God, thank You, thank You."

Willie made another change of water, passing it to Cookie beneath the blanket. Nathan stopped fussing and his breathing steadily improved.

"He's asleep now," Cookie announced in a loud whisper. "He seems able to breathe without too much strugglin'."

Missie's arms ached to hold her baby but Cookie kept him under the blanket.

The first streaks of dawn were reaching their golden fingers toward the eastern hills before Cookie ventured to lift the blanket from his head.

"Put on the coffeepot, would ya, Missus?" was his only comment.

Willie reached to take away the blanket and move the basin.

200

Missie moved mechanically to fill the coffeepot and put it on the stove. She then turned to Cookie who was handing the sleeping baby to this father.

"Put him back to bed now," he said, then added slowly, "This might come again fer a night or two, but iffen yer watchin' fer it, ya should be able to ward it off. In a few nights' time he should be over it. Croup always hits like thet--in the dead of night, scarin' one half to death. The steamin' helps."

Missie looked at the little man. He spoke quietly, matter-of- factly, as though he were used to working miracles. His body appeared limp; his clothes were soaked with steam and perspiration, his wispy hair clung wet against his scalp. His face was drained and white, and glistened with moisture in the early morning light. Yet, Missie's heart cried out that he was truly the most beautiful person that she had ever seen.

She crossed the room and reached out to touch gently his soft, stubbled face.

"Cookie Adams," she said, with tears and laughter in her voice, "you can't fool me--not for a minute. You're no grouchy, hard-ridin' ole cowpoke a'tall. You're a visitin'
angel."

201

Chapter 38

Love Finds a Home

Missie finally planted her garden and set her hens. Green things soon appeared and so did soft, fluffy, yellow chicks--eighteen of them; and Missie rejoiced, thinking ahead to leafy vegetables and fried chicken. Even Willie admitted that her idea of raising chickens was not such a bad one after all. The cow calved, a fine young heifer. Missie's milk supply was assured for many months ahead.

Willie, under the instruction of Juan and his men, began the work on the house, just a few yards east of the sod shanty. Day after day Missie watched excitedly as it took shape.

Henry had left for his own ranch. Missie missed him and the redheaded Rusty. She was always glad to welcome them back for a visit or a meal. Henry and Rusty still joined them each Sunday, and Missie and Willie were glad to have them. She wasn't sure yet how Willie's two new hands felt about working on a spread where the boss had Sunday sing-songs and Bible reading. So far, they had chosen to follow Smith's leading and stay away from such going's on.

202

Willie took time from his house-building to ride over to Juan's for a meeting of cattlemen. Missie ached to go along, but knew that the visiting of women and a business meeting of the men might not mix too well. She contented herself with plans for a visit on some future day, when she and Maria could enjoy each other's company without interruption. Maria's English was improving even faster than Missie's Spanish, and the two young women spent much of their infrequent visits laughing at each other's mistakes.

When Willie returned he was fairly bursting with news. A group of men had been in to stake out a site for the train station, he told Missie. Land already was sold for a general store. He was certain that other buildings would follow. And the best news was that the station would be only fifteen miles away! An easy trip in one day! No more two-week supply trips to Tettsford Junction. The first train was due to come chugging in during early spring of the following year.

The thought took Missie's breath away. To have supplies come in so close, to be able to make a trip to town, to greet people and walk on sidewalks--it was all too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Sure, it'll take time--but it'll all come," Willie declared. "An' guess what else. Thet there train station is gonna be more'n jest a cattle-shippin' place. It's gonna have a post office, too. We'll be able to mail letters right here an' git answers back from our folks."

Missie caught her breath. Just to be able to write home to her mama and pa! To be able to tell them of Nathan's progress, of her new house, of Cookie--their faithful old ranch hand sent to them by God himself (though Cookie didn't realize that yet), of her chickens, her garden. Oh, how she wanted to tell them everything, to pour it all out on paper, letting them know and feel that she was doing just fine. And to get back an answer from them assuring her that they were all well. She tried to imagine their first letter: that Luke was almost a man now, that Ellie had herself a beau, that Clare was getting set up to go farming on his own, and that Arnie was busy working the plow for Pa. She wanted to hear that the apple trees were in blossom, and the ever-bubbling

203

spring had just been cleaned for the summer cooling, that soft green lay on the land, and the school bell was ringing clearly in the crisp morning air.

Missie's eyes softened with her musings.

"Oh, Willie," she said, "I'd never even thought of such a wonder."

"An' I been thinkin'," Willie hardly dared to say more, in case it were a dream that would never be realized. "Been thinkin'--not a reason in the world thet I can see, why yer folks couldn't jest hop thet train some day an' make a trip out here."

"Oh, Willie," Missie cried, "could they really? Could people--it's not just for cows?"

Willie laughed. " 'Course not. At the meetin' they said thet they 'spect lots of folks will be comin' out by train. Special car jest for folks to ride in--maybe even two cars iffen they be need- in' 'em. Yer folks could come right on out an' we could meet 'em at the station."

Missie caught hold of his sleeve. "It's too much--too much all at once. I feel I could burst if it doesn't stop."

"Don't ya go bustin'," Willie said, pulling her to him. "We still got no doctor--an' I need ya. Who else is gonna look after Nathan an' me, an' git thet there house a lookin' like a home, 'stead of an empty, bare shell?" He chuckled as he held her close.

Missie was content to rest quietly in his arms.

"Speakin' of houses," Willie said against her hair, "iffen it's gonna be ready fer yer folks, I'd best git back to buildin' it. I decided today to send twenty or thirty steers along on thet cattle drive. No use doin' a thing by half-measures. Soon as Scottie gits back with the money, I'll take one of the boys an' head fer Tettsford. An' this time, I'm takin' you too, Missie. Iffen I don't git you away from this all-male company, you'll be losing all yer feminine charms!" But his eyes told her he didn't think that was likely.

Missie laughed, then retorted primly, "Why, yes, I believe I will be able to join you on your trip to Tettsford." But her dancing eyes gave her away, and she laughed again for sheer joy.

"We can git our winter supplies at the same time," Willie added.

204

"I need more preservin' jars," Missie said. "Mercy! I planted more garden then either Cookie or I know what to do with." Willie chuckled and released her.

"You be thinkin' on yer list," he said. "We'll be doin' our best to be fillin' it." He picked up his tools and started off for the new house. As he went he whistled, and the sound of it was pleasant to Missie's ears.

Around the corner of the cookshack limped Cookie, and close behind him trailed the young Nathan, followed by his ever- present guardian, big Max.

Nathan chattered and Cookie grunted. The dog was content to be the silent partner, giving an occasional wag of his tail.

Missie turned back to the little sod house. It was time to build a fire and begin preparing the evening meal. As she walked, she mentally composed her first letter home.

"Dear Mama and Pa," she'd write.

"God truly has kept His promise of Isaiah 41:10, just as you said He would. You should see our Nathan. He's about the greatest boy that ever was. He's quick too, in learning and doing. You'd be real proud of your grandson. I think that his nose and chin are like Willie's, but he has
your
eyes, Pa.

"Truth is, we're expecting another baby. Not for several months yet, but we're excited about it. We haven't talked yet about what we'll do for the birthing and all, but maybe by then we'll have folks around and I won't have to go way back to Tettsford Junction. I pray that that might be so.

"Willie is building a stone house--our
real
house. The one that we've been living in, temporarily, is kind of small. It's been just fine though, but now we're getting all set to move into the new one. We want to be in before winter comes again.

"I have a nice big garden. It grows real well down by the spring. The soil is rich and easy to water there. I scarcely have to coax it along at all. Cookie, the cook, uses it for the ranch hands as well.

"I have chickens, too. This spring they gave us eighteen chicks and we only lost two; I get seven or eight eggs a day. We're going to have chicken for Christmas dinner this year!

"And we have neighbors! Maria is the closest one to the

205

south. She is a very good friend and we have enjoyed prayer times together. Soon Melinda, a friend from the wagon train, will live to the north of us. You remember our Henry, the driver that you found for us, Pa? Well, he met Melinda on the trip out here, and as soon as he finishes his house, they will be married. I can hardly wait.

"We have a real good ranch foreman, Scottie, and a number of men who work the spread. There is Cookie--I mentioned him before--who is Nathan's favorite--mine too; and Lane, Smith, Clem, Sandy and two new ones whom I still don't know very well. The new ones haven't yet been to our Sunday Bible reading but we're still praying. Their names are Jake and Walt. Of course they all have last names too, except Smith, but we hardly ever use them here. Pray for all of them. Lane has become a real believer but takes a lot of ribbing from Smith. It would really help him if Jake and Walt broke from Smith and started coming on Sunday too. Especially pray for Smith. He really needs God to thaw out his heart."

Missie pushed the kettle onto the heat and went outside for a new supply of chips. Her eyes traveled over the miles of hills. They were not just distant, barren knolls now, but separate, individual. She remembered the coyote that appeared on that closest one. She had gazed at the one to the northeast when she looked for Willie's returning team. On the far ones she often saw the cattle feeding. The ones close by were covered with beautiful spring flowers. She'd transplanted some of them around the sod shanty door and watered them faithfully with her dishwater, almost always remembering Mrs. Taylorson's Rule Number Four, "All water must be used
at least twice. . . ."

She turned her eyes toward the west. Even though she could not see them from her valley, her memory brought to mind the mountains--shadowy, misty and golden, by turn. "Like a woman," Willie teased, "always changin' in mood and appearance." She turned back to the hills. How pretty they looked. In the distance were dots, that she knew to be Willie's grazing cattle. A faster-moving black figure appeared for a moment and then disappeared over a rise--one of the hands checking on the herd. Another cowboy rode into the yard down by the corrals. Missie