Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(36)

Missie ran to meet him. When they returned to the house together, Missie's cheeks bore fresh tears. Marty guessed the meaning.





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"Willie had them telegraph every town he knew. Nowhere 'round do they have a doctor," she confessed. Willie, standing with slumped shoulders and an ashen face, could not speak.

Marty crossed to him. "You've done all thet ya could," she comforted, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Willie." She coaxed forth a smile that she did not feel. "We'll jest have to pray even harder," she said.

Three people now sat in silence, or moved slowly about the room, or spoke in hushed tones. Clark still did not stir through the long night.

When dawn came, Willie insisted that Missie get some rest. The children would be needing her. Missie left to lie down for a brief time. Still no change in Clark. The day moved on, from forenoon to noonday, afternoon to evening. Marty left Clark's side only for a few minutes at a time. She was not interested in eating, could not think of sleeping. Her mind was totally on her husband lying silently in the bed.

Just as the long day ended and the sun was leaving the sky, Clark stirred and a groan came from his lips. Marty rushed to him. He opened his eyes, seemed to recognize her and groaned again. He slipped back into unconsciousness, but to Marty it was a blessed sign. Just to see him move and look at her was something to be thankful for. She allowed the tears to stream down her face as she buried it against him.





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Chapter Fifteen




Struggles



Clark remained unconscious the entire next day. Marty stayed by his bed, longing to be able to talk with him. Missie came as often as her duties would allow. In the late afternoon, Willie returned to the house and insisted that both of the ladies take a rest. After a bit of an argument, they went. They realized that they could not carry on longer without some sleep. Willie had Wong bring him coffee, and he settled himself beside Clark's bedside. He had slept very little himself in the last two days. His eyelids felt heavy and his eyes scratchy. He rubbed a calloused hand over his face.



Why did this have to happen? Why? The time they had looked forward to for so long--had dreamed of as a time of joyous reunion--had turned into a nightmare. Why? Surely God hadn't brought Clark and Marty way out here to take Clark's life and destroy Marty's faith? It was all a puzzle to Willie.

And the boys? He worried about the boys. They had been so excited about meeting their grandparents. Missie had made



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it a great adventure for them. They had counted the weeks, the days. And then, when they had met their grandparents, they had loved them so quickly, so deeply--and now this tragedy. Poor little Nathan. Not only had his grandfather been taken from him in the last few days but also his grandmother, and, thought Willie, even his own ma; for Missie's mind was far too unsettled and troubled by her father's condition to be able to do more than care for her children's basic needs.

Willie got up and moved to the boys' room. Josiah slept soundly, unconscious of the burden that this home was presently bearing. Nathan was out. Perhaps he was in the kitchen with Wong or visiting Cookie or playing with Max. The poor little fellow. He was trying so hard to be good.

Willie crossed to his own room and looked in on Missie. Though sleeping, her face was still pale and drawn. Willie's heart ached for her grief.

He gently smoothed back her long hair and left her.

He looked in on Marty. She, too, slept soundly. She looked exhausted--as well she might. She had hardly left Clark's side since the accident had occurred.

Willie went back to Clark's room. He should check the leg. He pulled back the covers and looked at the neat, fresh bandage. This was not the bandage he had hurriedly put on! Someone else had been caring for Clark. Someone else knew of the condition of the leg. Willie wiped his hand over his face again. Did the womenfolk know? He hated the thought of their knowing; and, at the same time, he felt some of the tension leave him. It would be far better if they did know. It would help to prepare them for whatever was ahead.

Willie pulled the light cover up over Clark and sat down heavily in the chair. The house was quiet. Most of its occupants were asleep. Willie, too, dozed occasionally, only to waken chiding himself and determined not to let it happen again.

Josiah woke and left his bed in search of another family member. Willie, hearing him in the hall, went to get him. He picked up the small boy and held him close, walking back and forth in the hallway and crooning words of love to him. Josiah



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cuddled closely against his father, his pudgy hands around his neck and his fingers intertwined in the heaviness of Willie's hair. He liked to be held. He liked to be loved. As far as Josiah was concerned, the world had no sorrows.

At length, Willie held the little boy away and looked at him. "Are ya hungry?" he asked.

"Yah. Where Mama?"

"Mama is restin'. She's very tired."

"Mama sleepin'?"

"Right. Do you want to go see Wong an' have him git ya some milk an' bread?"

"Yah!" exclaimed Josiah in glee. He always enjoyed a trip to see Wong.

Willie carried him to the kitchen. Wong looked up from the table where he and Nathan were cutting doughnuts. "Aha," said Wong, "small boy is wake now."