Love's abiding joy (Love Comes Softly #4) (24 page)

196

"Jedd didn't make it," Clark said quietly. "Juan had to do surgery. Jedd wasn't strong enough to stand it. The frozen fingers and toes had turned bad; there wasn't any way thet Juan could save 'im. He's been stayin' with him day an' night, fightin' to bring 'im through this but--"

"But he did, Clark. He did!" exclaimed Marty. "Because of Juan's fight to save 'im, Jedd not only has life--but
everlastin'
life."

"I'm afraid thet a doctor doesn't look at things thet way," said Clark soberly.

"But it's true. And, oh, Clark, iffen you hadn't been here, Jedd maybe wouldn't have decided to make his peace with God 'fore he died." Marty's eyes fell to Clark's pant leg, pinned up securely just below the knee. "Iffen it wouldn't have been fer the accident, ya wouldn't have been here, Clark. We would have been gone home long ago."

Clark pulled her closer to him and kissed her hair.

197

Chapter Twenty-nine

Happenings

During the long winter days, Marty spent her time in the little soddy doing knitting, mending, or hand sewing for Missie and her family. She also had a basketful of socks to mend for the ranch hands, having made discreet inquiries after the Christmas sock-viewing. Clark used his hours to make things with his hands and his limited tools. In the long evenings, he spent hours with his Bible, studying for the Sunday lessons with the little congregation.

Each Sunday after the worshipers gathered together for their service, there were discussions concerning the materials and the progress of the church building. As the building committee continued planning and ordering supplies, the building was taking shape on paper and in the minds of the people, even though not a stake had been pounded or a nail driven. However, the materials were all being stockpiled at the Newtons' as they arrived by train, and a building bee was planned as soon as the weather would permit. Folks hoped for an early spring so that work might be started.

198

As the weather improved, so did the Sunday attendance. Once again, the folks from the town ventured forth. It was a long drive, but they seemed anxious to be a part of the fellowship and to keep informed about progress on the church building. Besides, they reported, though they enjoyed the Bible studies at home and it had been a good idea, it was not the same as meeting with the group and hearing Clark's insights on the truths from the scripture portion.

During the week, when Marty felt too confined, she would toss her shawl about her shoulders and hurry down the snow- crusted path to Missie's house. On a few occasions, Missie came to visit her while the children slept. Missie loved to sit in the quiet, snug little soddy, sipping tea with her mother. She realized that the days would quickly pass and Marty would all too soon return back home.

As the winter days lengthened, their visits turned to garden plans and spring setting hens. It was hard to stay in the house with the drifts of snow shrinking daily.

Clark, too, had been planning ahead, only his thoughts had taken a different turn. He thought often about the small congregation. He had enjoyed the opportunity to lead them over the winter months. He knew that they were not likely to soon find a minister for the group. What would happen when he had to leave for home? Clark decided to ride over and see Henry. And so it was that Clark began to have study sessions with Henry to prepare him to take over leadership of the church. The people must know that when Clark left there would still be worship and Bible study. The building was only a small part of the requirements for a congregation.

At long last, spring did arrive. This time it did not come slowly as spring so often does. One day it was still winter, and the next day spring was unmistakably in the air.

The spring birds appeared, little flowers colored the hillsides, green grass carpeted the area by the flowing spring, and Nathan ran capless and nursed a runny nose.

Missie's mind quickly switched to her planting. She pulled out all of her seeds, giving special attention to the ones that Clark and Marty had brought with them on the train. Scattering

199

the little packages all across her table, she and her father began to sort and plan. Nathan and Josiah wished to get in on the activity, and soon her carefully sorted seeds were all mixed up again. Marty shepherded the boys to the kitchen for milk and cookies, and Clark and Missie continued their garden plans.

In spite of his crutch, it was Clark who cared for the plowing of the soil. He arranged little pots for planting inside seedlings and advised Missie as to what would grow best, where and when to plant it. Marty smiled as she watched father and daughter working together.

After the garden was started, it was time for Missie to turn to her chickens. She had spotted six hens with a desire to nest, and Missie carefully selected a setting of eggs for each one of them. Clark helped her with the coops, and the hens were housed in fine style. Missie placed her settings under the mothers-to-be and marked her calendar for the coming event.

The date for the church building bee was set. Wagons loaded with excited families, food and tools headed for the Newton's ranch. Cookie had to be available at home to feed the hands who were on duty with the cattle. Wong did not go either. He was not a builder and did not feel comfortable about sharing the cooking duties with several neighborhood women, so he stayed in his own kitchen and sent a big bucket of his special doughnuts to go with the morning coffee.

Juan had discovered two experienced carpenters from town who took charge of the actual construction. The neighborhood men offered their hands wherever they were needed.

Within the week, the church building was lifting its spire proudly toward the sky, the barren prairie and wide horizon making a dramatic silhouette. Senora De la Rosa wept the first time she heard the bell peal, reaching across the miles without even echoing from the distant hills.

The first service in the new church was announced. Many new faces appeared in the congregation that day. Clark wondered, as he looked over the crowd, how many were there for social reasons or idle curiosity and how many were true worshipers "in spirit and in truth." Regardless of their purpose,

200

he saw a real opportunity to open the Word of God to them.

Marty sat with Missie and her family on one of the new pews, Nathan tucked in between them and Josiah snuggled on his mother's lap.
I love the smell of new wood,
thought Marty as she looked around at the ones nearby and sensed their joyful anticipation.
While we've been here,
her thoughts moved on,
God has provided a doctor for their bodies' needs and a church for their spiritual needs. Thank
Ya,
Lord!

Clark was pleased to see quite a few of the new people continue to come as the Sundays passed one by one. The church members made it a point to keep in contact with all who had visited the church.

Nathan and Josiah now spent much of their time outside during the lovely spring weather. They had planted, with the help of their grandfather, their own small garden and daily checked it for progress, then would run with reports to their grandmother.

"It's growin'!" cried Nathan one day as he burst in upon Marty.

"What's growin'?" she asked innocently.

"My garden! Come see. Come see."

Marty hurried after him. Nathan fell on his knees and pointed to some small, green plants just beginning to poke their heads out of the soil. Marty didn't have the heart to tell him just then that they were weeds.
Wait until some real garden begins to grow,
she told herself,
and then we'll care fer the weeds.

But Josiah cared for many of them. He pulled them up to see how they were doing, then pushed them awkwardly into the ground again and pounded them on their tender tops with his pudgy palm--even the hardy weeds did not survive his "tender" care.

Eventually the "real gardens" did begin to grow. Marty was not sure who was the most excited with their growing plants--the two small boys or Missie. Marty understood. She wished she were home planting her own garden. She missed it and wondered if Ellie and the boys would be taking care of it. Marty took another horseback ride out with Missie and the

201

boys to view the herds. Hundreds of spring calves scampered around their bawling mothers. Marty had never seen such a sight.

Nathan climbed down off his pony to pick wild flowers for his two favorite ladies. Marty's smile swept from him to Missie who sat on her horse with the young Josiah astraddle the saddle in front of her. Missie's face was flushed, her figure gently rounding with the new life growing inside her, and her hair, teased loose by the prairie wind, fanned about her. Behind her, the hills rolled on and on like a gently dipping brownish-green sea. Beyond them, friendly mountains lifted silver peaks to play secret games with the fluffy clouds that hung low in the sky. The scene was lovely, full of life and warmth and love, and a memory that Marty would cherish for many years to come.

She was thankful that Missie and Willie had come west. She was glad that she and Clark had been able to visit; she was even glad for the extra time that Clark's accident had allowed them. Missie was happy here. As Marty looked at her contented daughter, she realized that Missie really belonged here. She was a gentle part of Willie's West. Marty looked about her with new appreciation for the ever-present hills and the openness--even the wind. This land spoke of freedom, of independence and of strength. Marty was proud that her daughter was a part of it.

They rode home in silence . . . each one thinking thoughts that belonged to herself. Nathan cantered on ahead on his Spider, manfully "breaking trail" for his mother and grandmother. Josiah, his head resting against his mother, nodded off to sleep.

Clark was waiting for them when they returned. He had spent the day putting new legs on Cookie's worktable.

"How did you an' Cookie make out?" asked Missie, knowing that Clark had been looking for an opportunity for a heartto-heart talk with Cookie about his relationship with God.

Clark shook his head. "We had a good talk--nice an' open--but Cookie is still hesitant. He says thet he wants to be sure he is acceptin' Jesus Christ--not Clark Davis."

202

"I don't understand," said Missie.

Marty thought about the statement for a moment. "I think maybe I do," she said slowly.

"Well," said Clark modestly, "Cookie says thet he admires me . . . guess 'cause we both of us had the same kind of accident. Not much to admire a man fer, but Cookie reasons a little different than some men do. Anyway, he listens to the Word as I give it Sunday by Sunday; he sees me able to make do with one leg. . . . I don't know. He's got it all mixed up as to what I can do as a man and what I can do with the Lord's help. He's not sure yet where the difference lies. Cookie's right, ya know. I don't want him to be a follower of Clark Davis. Iffen he can't find the difference here, then he should wait until he does. No good followin' a man. Nothin' thet I can give to Cookie thet he can't find in hisself."

"Sounds strange to me," mused Missie. "I never thought of anyone getting mixed up on man-followin' before. Seems to me it should be plain as can be that Jesus is the only way to heaven."

"I left Cookie my Bible and marked some verses for 'im to read. I hope thet he will be able to understand their meanin'."

"We're gonna have to do some prayin'," Missie said simply as Clark and Nathan moved away with the horses and she and Marty walked on to the house, the sleeping Josiah in her arms. "Iffen Pa can't make Cookie see the difference, how will Willie or Henry ever do it?"

It was Lane who showed Cookie the difference. He walked into the cookshack and found Cookie frowning over Clark's Bible.

"I still don't figure it," mumbled Cookie.

"Don't figure what?" asked Lane, reaching for the ever- ready coffeepot.

"Iffen I take on this here religion, will I be doin' it to try to become a man like Clark Davis?"

"What's wrong with being' a man like Clark Davis?"

"Nothin'. Nothin' thet I can see. Only he says thet tryin' to be like 'im ain't gonna git me one step closer to those pearly gates yer always talkin"bout."

203

"Oh, thet," said Lane, understanding Cookie's dilemma. "He's right."

"But how can I be like
Jesus?"
asked Cookie in frustration. "I don't even know
Him."

"Forgit 'bout being'
like Him
fer now," said Lane. "Yer tryin' to start too far ahead of yerself." Cookie looked doubtful but let Lane continue.

"You've heard it preached an' read many times thet all men are sinners?"

"Yah," grunted Cookie.

"Are ya a-doubtin' thet ya fit in thet category?"

"Shucks, no," said Cookie. "I know myself better'n thet."

"Okay," said Lane, "thet's where ya start. Now ya know thet yer a sinner, an' I guess iffen yer wantin' to copy after Davis, ya don't really want to stay one."

Cookie nodded his agreement.

o "Well, how ya try to clean up yer act ain't gonna make a whole lot of difference. You'll never measure up, no matter how hard ya try. Oh, ya might even git to
act
as good as Clark

Davis himself, but thet won't really impress God none. He still sees deeper than the skin.

"Bible says thet man looks on the outside but God looks on the heart. Also says thet the heart of man is 'desperately

wicked.' But the good news is thet our hearts can be changed. Now, thet there's the startin' place.

"Jesus, holy an' pure, died fer every dirty, wicked heart thet ever beat. All we gotta do is see what we are, an' who He is, an' accept fer ourselves what He did. Thet's all there is to it. From there on, He does the workin' on makin' ya a follower."

Cookie's eyes opened wide at the simplicity of it. Lane gulped the last of his coffee, placed his cup on the table, and headed for the door.

When he reached the door he hesitated, turned to Cookie, and said softly, "All ya gotta do is ask Him."

to. After Lane was gone, Cookie did.