Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(52)
Missie moved for the coffeepot. "Well, if you are determined
169
to do it, I guess I can't stop you, but I still don't like it."
"Look, honey," said Marty, understanding how the girl felt, "if we didn't think thet it is fer the best, we wouldn't do it. Honest! Jest give it a chance, will ya, Missie? Iffen it doesn't seem to be workin' fer the best of all concerned, we'll move back in here. Please?"
Missie brightened some and leaned over to kiss Marty on her forehead.
"I'm sorry. It just took me off-guard like." She managed a smile. "Iffen you're sure that it's what you want, my soddy is all yours. But I'm warnin' you, Mama, it can get awful cramped on a winter's day."
Marty laughed. "Well, I have an advantage thet you didn't have, my dear."
"Meanin'?" asked Missie.
"You," said Marty. "Iffen I git to feelin' cramped, I can jest bundle up an' make a dash fer yer big, beautiful home. You didn't have a big house nor a daughter nearby, so ya jest had to sit tight."
Missie smiled again. "Well, I hope that you feel cramped real often," she said. "Then you'll visit me lots."
Clark put down his empty cup. "Well, fellas," he said to the boys, "guess we'd better git started with this here move."
The boys scrambled down and led the way to the bedroom that had been known as Grandpa and Grandma's for the last few months. Clark followed, his crutch beating a rhythmic tatoo behind them.
"I'll see what I can find for rugs an' blankets," offered Missie. "You'll need some decent dishes, too. Those in the soddy are in bad shape."
"Now, don't ya fuss none," Marty warned her daughter, but she knew that she might as well bid the sun not to shine. Missie was sure to fuss. Marty just shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps in the fussing Missie would find some fun. She followed Missie out, determined to make a real adventure for them all on this moving day.
The nights were cooler now, and the wood fire in the old
170
cookstove made the snug little soddy cozy and warm. Clark had encouraged Marty to visit Missie often during the first few days after their move, to assure her that indeed they had not forsaken her. Marty also invited Missie down to the soddy for afternoon tea; and Missie's many memories of the small shack gave her parents a new understanding of their daughter's first years in the West. She told of her first shocking sight of the small, grass-covered mound that was to be her home, and her horror at seeing from inside the dirt roof and dirt floor, and her feeling of fear as she laid Nathan on the bed lest the chunks of earth come tumbling down on top of the wee baby. She described their first Christmas and the cowboys sitting almost toe-to-toe, enjoying a simple Christmas dinner. She told of Cookie holding the baby Nathan and helping him to breathe freely again when he had the croup. She talked about her first visit from Maria, her difficulty in drying her wash, her cooped-up feelings; but all the time she talked there was nostalgia in her voice, and her deep affection for the old sod shack showed. Marty even began to wonder if Missie might be envying their chance to live in the little soddy!
The boys loved to come, and Marty and Clark found themselves listening for their knock on the door and the two little voices calling, "Grandpa!" "G'am'ma!" They would pester Clark as he tried to study for the Sunday lessons. They coaxed to be able to add fuel to the fire. They wanted to roll on the bed, scratch marks in the dirt floor, and have their meals at the small table. They brought garden vegetables, fresh eggs, or milk from their mother. They even brought treats from Wong's kitchen.
Clark and Marty enjoyed them but always made sure they were home to greet their father when he returned at the end of the day.
Life finally had settled into a warm, comfortable, wholesome routine for all of them. Marty was thankful that Clark had proposed the move, feeling that it truly was better for all concerned. Willie looked less tense, more relaxed and happy, as well. He had needed to be master in his own home again. Even Missie took on a new glow. The past months had drained
171
all of them, but now it was time for life to return to normal once more.
Marty sat in front of the soddy, knitting and soaking in the late fall sun; Clark came around the corner, expertly managing his crutch and a pail of spring water. He set the pail down and sank into a chair beside Marty, wiping his brow.
His chuckle brought Marty's head up. Now what is he findin' so funny? she asked herself and then repeated it to Clark.
"Nothin's funny, really. Jest thinkin' thet God really does make 'all things work together fer good.'
"Meanin'?"
"This here leg--the one thet I ain't got no more. Ya noticin' which one is missin'?"
"Yah, the left one."
"It's the left one--but more'n thet. Look, it frees up my right hand when I'm a doin'. See, I use the crutch in the left. Not only thet, but thet there left one is the one thet I chopped into thet winter takin' out logs. Remember?"
Marty wondered how he thought she could forget. She still went weak and sick inside when she thought of Clark's return to the house with his pale face and blood-drenched foot.
"I remember," she said, her voice tight.