Love's abiding joy (Love Comes Softly #4) (8 page)

At last, at last,
sang Marty's heart.
At last I have my "if only."

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Chapter Eight

Introductions

The hours that followed were wild with excited chatter and activity. The two grandsons had immediately captivated their new-found grandparents. Marty was so thankful they moved forward to them without hesitation and even allowed hugging. Nathan beamed his pleasure. He was all ready to "take over" the entertainment of the two special people in his mother's life. "Mama said I could show ya my room," and "Mama said you'd go ridin' with me, Grandpa," and "Mama said you'd like to see my own pony," and "Mama said you'd read to me sometimes." Missie laughed, and Marty realized that she had been carefully preparing her children for the adventure of meeting their grandparents.

Josiah was too young to be as active in the conversation, but he pulled at coattails and jerked at hands and insisted on "Up!" Marty was thrilled with how quickly the two boys felt at ease with their grandparents. When Josiah did manage to steal a scene from Nathan, he was full of chatter of "See this," and "Do you like my. . . ?" and "Lookit, G'amma." For Clark

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and Marty, their hearts were captured on sight by two small boys.

The whole house was filled with happy sounds as Missie proudly showed them from room to room. Marty exclaimed over the comfort, the coolness, and the attractiveness of the big stone house. They had entered through wide, double doors into a large, cool hall. The floor was of polished stone, and the inside walls were textured white stucco. Missie had used paintings with Spanish-Mexican influence to decorate the walls and had placed an old Spanish bench of white wrought iron against one wall. The bench had cushions of a flower- print material and Missie had picked up the shade of green in them to highlight little finishing touches in the room, a pleasing and cool effect. The living room was large and airy with a mammoth stone fireplace and deep red and gold fabrics on the furnishings. The draperies, of matching material, were tied back with gold cords. It too looked Spanish
and--thought
Marty--very
rich.
The floor was dark-stained wood, and the walls were, like the entry, textured stucco. Scattered across the polished wooden floors were deep-colored rugs--not the homemade variety but storebought. The pictures and lamps were Spanish--and elegant, with blacks, reds, and golds predominant. Marty viewed in awe. Never had she seen such a room.

On they moved to the dining area. "And," said Missie, with a wave of her hand and a laugh, "that's as far as we've been able to go with our grandness. From here on, it's common livin'. But it'll come, little by little, with each cattle shipment."

Missie gestured toward a long, homemade trestle table which easily seated eight. "Willie has promised me some dining room chairs an' a
real
table this fall." Though the chairs were comfortable enough, they were not matched or of good quality. The white-stuccoed walls were quite bare, and inexpensive curtains hung at the windows. A simple cabinet against the far wall held the good dishes that Marty had insisted Missie take west. Somehow the simple, homey room put Marty's heart at ease; the differences now between them might not be so great after all.

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"Oh, Missie, I'm so proud of you and so happy for you!" she exclaimed with a quick hug. Clark's approving grin echoed that sentiment.

The bedrooms were all big and roomy, but, again, the furnishings here were simple and the curtains and spreads and the rugs on the floor were all homemade. Marty recognized many things that she had helped to fashion.

Missie led them to the other wing, the kitchen area of the house. Marty was surprised when Missie stopped at the door and gave a brief rap, then walked in. A wiry little Chinese man was busily engaged in preparations for the evening meal. Marty had not known that Missie had a cook.

"Wong," said Missie, "this is my pa, my mama."

The Chinese man favored them with a big grin and bobbed his head up and down as he acknowledged the introductions.

"How'do, how'do," he said over and over. "Wong pleased with pleasure. How'do, how'do."

Clark and Marty both answered with smiles.

"Wong is trying hard to learn our difficult English," Missie explained while Wong beamed at them. "He has done very well in a short time. He does not need to learn how to cook. He knew all about cookin' when he came. Every rancher hereabouts envies us and hopes for an invitation often to eat his delicious food."

Wong bobbed his head again with pleasure and led them around the large kitchen. Marty had never seen so much working room. The stove was big, too, and Wong proudly lifted the covers from several steaming kettles, all sending forth delicious odors.

Missie led her parents down a hall and toward a back door. "I had me no idea thet ya had a cook. My, my," remarked Marty.

"Wong has not been with us for long," Missie answered. "At first, I thought that Willie was being silly to suggest it, but I wonder now why I even tried to fight it. Wong is so much help. He helps with the laundry, too. It gives me more time for the children, and I still have plenty to keep me busy with this big house. I'm glad that we have him--an' it gives him a job an' a home as well. Nathan and Josiah adore him. But it made

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Cookie terribly jealous at first," Missie continued. "He was so afraid that someone else would take his place with our boys. But the two rascals have managed to keep both of the men happy. Actually, the two cooks seem to really enjoy one another now. Most evenings they get together for a cup of coffee and a chat. In fact, Cookie is the one who volunteered to teach Wong English."

Missie's long speech had brought them to the patio at the back of the house. The front, the bedroom wing on the one side, and the kitchen wing on the other, surrounded this lovely area on three sides. The fourth side looked out toward the spring beyond Missie's flower beds. When Marty remarked on their beauty, Missie informed her that they were all flowers she had taken from the neighboring hills, except for the bed of roses. Scottie, a little red-faced, had presented her with them when he had returned from purchasing some choice livestock farther south.

The sheltered veranda between the patio and the house was shaded and cool even in the late-afternoon heat. Marty imagined what a pleasant place this would be to spend an afternoon sewing or reading to the children. She was very impressed with the home that Willie had built for Missie. She was pleased with their good taste, and she admired Missie's choice of color and texture in the rich-looking "new" area of the house. Also, it said to Marty that times were good, that Missie and Willie were making upward strides in their standard of living. The homier, simple furnishings in the remainder of the house also spoke to Marty. These told her that they were willing to wait, to build gradually, to not demand everything at once, showing maturity and good judgment. Marty
was
proud of them--both of them.

After the look through the house, Willie invited Clark out to see the barns and stock, and Missie took Marty to show her the garden, the spring, her chickens and the little soddy.

The boys were now frustrated. Nathan, who clung to Grandma's hand, didn't like to leave her to go with the men, but he was most anxious to show off his pony. Josiah, who had been riding on Grandpa's shoulder, hated to climb down but

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did not want to get too far away from his mother. Besides, he absolutely adored the chickens! After some complaints from both of the children, the three "men" headed for the barn, and the women and the younger son took the path to the garden.

Marty was pleased at the sight of Missie's garden. True, it wasn't as far along as her own had been on the farm back east, but the plants looked healthy and productive and Marty could see that many good meals would be coming from the little patch.

The water from the spring was not as ambitious as the spring back home, but the effect that it had on the area surrounding it outweighed the difference. All around were brown hills and wind-swept prairies, but here near the spring were green growing things and small, shivering-leafed trees--truly an "oasis."

Missie briskly led the way to the chicken pen. Forty or fifty hens squawked and squabbled in the enclosure. They looked healthy enough, and Missie assured her mother that they were very good egg producers.

Josiah immediately began hollering at the chickens, attempting to throw handfuls of grass and dirt at them through the wire. Since the wind was blowing from the wrong direction, most of it blew right back into Josiah's face, so Missie put a stop to the activity. Josiah was quick to obey, blinking dust from his eyes.

As they moved on toward the unassuming soddy, Marty noticed that Missie referred to it with love and even joy, a fact that Marty found very difficult to understand. Missie pushed open the rough wooden door and they entered the dim little sod shack. When Marty's eyes had adjusted, she could make out the bed in the corner, the black iron stove that still remained right where it had been, the small table and the two stools.

Marty gazed all around her, from the simple furnishings to the sod roof and the packed-dirt floor.

This is the "home" that waited for you after that long, hard trip? An' ya actually lived here,
Marty thought incredulously. Ya
actually lived in this little shack--an' with a baby! How

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could ya ever do it? How could ya stand to live in such a way?

My, I--"

But Missie was speaking: "Willie wanted to tear it down, to get it out of here, but I wouldn't hear tell. Got a lot of memories, this little place. We've had to re-sod the roof a couple of times. Roofs don't last too long with the winter storms, the wind an' rain; an' once they start to leak, they aren't good for anything."

Marty did not express her feeling about the soddy. Instead she expressed her feeling for her girl. "I'm so proud of you, Missie--so proud. I hoped to bring ya up to be able to make a happy home fer the one thet ya learned to love. An' ya did. Ya looked beyond these here dirt walls into the true heart of the home. Home ain't fancy dishes an' such, Missie. Home is love and carin'. Remember when I insisted on those fancy dishes, Missie? I said thet you'd be so glad fer them someday. So I fussed 'bout ya takin"em even though ya really had no room fer 'em an' could have taken somethin' more sensible in the room thet they took in the wagon. Well, I was wrong, Missie." Marty's hand touched her daughter's cheek. "I was wrong, an' you were right. Home ain't dishes, frills, an' such, Missie. Home is love an' carin'. You showed me thet ya could truly make a home an' ya could do it with jest yer own hands an' yer own heart. I'm proud of ya. So very proud."

Missie's answering smile was understanding as Marty wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked around once more before leaving the small sod shack; this time it did not look as bleak, nor the floor as earthy. In those few short minutes, something had happened which changed the appearance of the little room.

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Chapter Nine

Catching
Up

When the children were finally tucked into bed after insisting on a story from both Grandma and Grandpa, Clark and Willie had gone to his office, a small room off the kitchen, to discuss the business of farming and ranching. Missie and Marty settled comfortably in the living room with coffee cups.

"It was useless to try to 'catch up' before this," said Missie, "but I think that things are quiet enough now for us to talk--really talk. I have so many questions. I just want to know 'bout everyone--everyone. I hardly know where to start, but you might as well start talkin', 'cause I just can't bear to let you go to bed until I find out all 'bout those at home."

Marty drew a deep breath. "I've been jest 'bout dyin' to tell ya all 'bout the family. My, ya'd be surprised, could ya see yer brothers an' sister now!"

"Is Clare still the tease?"

"Worse . . . worse, seems to me. He's always funnin' and I sometimes wonder iffen he'll ever grow up. Yer pa says he will, once he marries an' settles down."

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"An' what is his Kate like? Clare wrote me. Sounded in the letter as though she was nothin' less than an angel sent from heaven. What's she really like?"

"Kate's a fine girl. We feel thet she's jest what Clare needs. She's quiet and steady, a little overly cautious at times, but they should balance one another real well. She's quite tall, with brown hair, large violet eyes . . . I think thet it was the violet eyes thet caught Clare's 'tention. Though she's not what ya'd call a beauty, she does have very pretty eyes."

"An' you said that they're gonna marry this fall?"

"August 27. Might have been a little sooner, but we wanted to be sure and have lots of time to get home ag'in and git us ready fer the big event."

"Does Arnie have a girl?"

"He's been callin' on a little gal over in Donavan County. You remember Arnie; he's rather shy. He takes things pretty slow-like. Ellie says thet Hester will need to do the proposin' iffen it ever gits done!" Marty chuckled. "I think thet Arnie jest hasn't quite made up his mind yet. Wants to be good an' sure. She's a nice little girl, but her brothers are rather no- goods. Have a bad reputation in the area. Arnie ain't 'bout to let thet influence him, but he feels thet it's important when one marries they accept all of the family members."

"Sometimes that just isn't possible," remarked Missie.

"Well, Arnie feels thet with Hester it has to be. She is very protective of her brothers. Would fight fer 'em if necessary. Arnie admires thet in her. But he wants to see the good in 'em that Hester sees. So far," Marty laughed softly, "I think thet he's been hard put to find some good, even though he's sure been lookin'."

"I hope he doesn't spend too many years
lookin'
and let some girl with no such problems be snatched up by someone else in the meantime."

Marty sighed. "Arnie deserves a good girl. He is so sensitive to the feelin's of others. He's got a lot of his father in him, thet boy."

"What 'bout Ellie? She got a beau?"

"Not really. Not yet. Guess I was sorta hopin' thet ya