Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) (17 page)

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they wept together. When their tears had washed away their renewed sorrow and cleansed away the frustration, they were able to look together to the future with new acceptance and anticipation, and even to talk of other things.

Rett played contentedly with the building blocks, pushing them back and forth on the kitchen floor, for he couldn't seem to succeed in stacking them.

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Chapter 33

Plans for a Church

The next spring the small log teacherage was built, and Mr. Wilbur Whittle and his new bride moved in to take possession. The community had long since realized the real reason, on Mr. Whittle's part, for the home near the schoolhouse, for immediately after he was assured that it would indeed be built, he asked for the hand of Miss Tessie. The community smiled its approval, and as the finishing touches were put on the cabin, the Reverend Watson did the honors of pronouncing the couple husband and wife.

There was a growing dissatisfaction, however, with the Sunday morning worship service. Rather than thinking it the fault of the "learned man," the people looked instead to the place of meeting. The school was crowded, the seating was inadequate, there was no place to take fussing children. The whole situation was not conducive to worship.

The general feeling grew and in between the planting of crops and the haying season, a meeting was called to discuss the matter. The interest was good, and the feeling was expressed that the community was in dire need of a proper church. There followed a lengthy discussion as to where this building should be located. There were several men who offered land, but it was finally decided that the most central location would be a corner of the Watley farm. A committee was

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appointed to care for the pacing off and fencing of the area come fall. Another committee was assigned the task of log count. Throughout the winter months men and horses would strain and sweat in the task of getting the lumber transformed from tall standing timber in the hills to stripped logs lying in ever-increasing piles at the building site. It was the overseer's job to sort the logs and to make sure the secured number snaked in would be adequate for the building.

Everyone went home from the meeting with spirits lifted. Now they were finally getting someplace. The worship time would surely have a better chance to meet their needs. The church would be much bigger than the schoolhouse. It would have two side rooms. One where the children could profit from a Sunday school class, and a smaller one where fussing babies could be taken.

Wooden benches would be made that would meet the needs of full-grown men who had Sunday by Sunday been forced to curl their long frames into a desk created for a fifth grader. There would be an altar where people with needs could bow in prayer and a pulpit from which the Word of God could be proclaimed.

People began to visualize and dream of what it would be like when they had their own church.

The Reverend seemed to agree, though not enthuse, with the plan. It was fine with him as long as he was not called upon for some such task as log cutting. He was quick to inform the gentlemen of the great number of hours needed in his study for the purpose of preparing himself for his Sunday sermon.

The men were content to let him be. No one really felt the need for the Reverend's right arm in doing a task they had always handled with no problem.

After the crops had been harvested and the fall work completed, the men took to the wooded hills. Their own wood supply must be secured first, and they were in a hurry to complete the task so that they could start tallying up logs for the new church.

The winter wore on, and each day that was fit for man and

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beast carried the sharp sound of the axes and the crashing of the large timbers. Gradually the piles of logs increased, and Clark, who was keeping the tally and overseeing the peeling, felt satisfaction in the progress they were making.

With the spring thaw, many piles of naked steaming poles lay in the warm spring sun. A day in May was set aside for the church raisin'. A church, being special, the men had contented themselves would take more than one day to see completion; but the first day would give them the sense of direction, the raw outline with which to work.

They met on the appointed day and the men set to work with a will. The ladies chatted and cooked and chased hungry children out of the food set aside for dinner. The building went well and as the tired farmers headed for home to their waiting chores, the walls of the church stood stout and strong. Those who could, would take the next day to work again on the building. The important thing now was to get the roof on, the windows in, and the door hung. The finishing on the inside would be done throughout the entire spring and summer as men could spare the time.

By fall their church stood tall, even bearing a spire that pointed to heaven. Only a bell was lacking, thought many of the more sentimental ladies. Only a bell.

To the east of the church a cemetery was carefully staked out. Marty wondered as she watched the men plotting the area if others around carried the same question in their hearts. Who would be the first to be laid to rest there?

She tried to brush aside the uncomfortable thought, but unconsciously her eyes travelled over her neighbors. She loved them. She would not wish to lose any of them. Then her eyes sought out her own family and she choked up a bit.

"I'm being' silly," she scolded herself. "Our lives all be in God's hands. He'll do the choosin'."

She went to join Clark who was holding a squirming Ellie, wishing to be down to run with the rest of the small fry.

The dedication of the new church was set for the first Sunday in October. It was decided that they'd make a real celebration of it all and bring in a potluck meal.

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The great day arrived. The wind was blowing, the sky overcast, making the day less than desired, but at least there was no rain falling. Marty was thankful for that.

She packed with care the food that she had prepared and made sure that her family was well bundled against the weather. Arnie was hard to corner long enough to be sure that he was properly buttoned and tied.

The crowd poured in, full of great expectation. They now had a church in which to worship. It would be so much easier to feel close to God.

They enjoyed singing lustily the familiar hymns. By now they knew fairly well some of the new songs that the Reverend had brought with him.

The prayer was long and elaborate. Marty found herself praying her own more simple one that met the need of her own heart.

Then they moved into the dedication service for the new building. Clark, Ben and Mr. Watley each had a part. Marty thought that it was beautiful, and her heart swelled with pride as she watched Clark participate.

"Now ya watch yer pa," her eyes told her youngsters. "See how straight he stands--how steady his voice--how proud he be to be a part of God's people. Watch yer pa."

The dedication came to a close and the morning sermon began.

"Oh, dear God, make it special. Make it a feedin' time," Marty prayed, but the dear Reverend hadn't gone far until she realized that she was going to again be disappointed. She finally let the anticipation drain from her and settled down to bear out the sermon in attentiveness rather than with understanding.

The Reverend, too, had felt that the sermon on such a splendid occasion should be special, so he had prepared an extra long one.

Children fidgeted, and one couldn't help but feel that the fathers felt a bit envious of the mothers who got to take them out.

At last the sermon ended and the congregation stood for

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the closing hymn. The people filed from the building--the men to gather in small clusters, the children to stretch muscles cramped from so long a time unused, and women to put out the noonday meal.

It was a pleasant time spent together. The newlyweds accepted teasing good-naturedly, babies were passed around and exclaimed over, news from town and community was shared. It was a good day. Still Marty went away feeling disappointed. It hadn't been what she had hoped it would be. Something was definitely lacking. She pushed the thought aside, determined to talk about it with Clark later. Maybe he'd be able to put his finger on it.

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Chapter 34

Family

A short note arrived from Tommie. It was the third time they had heard from him. Each time that news came Marty breathed a prayer of thanks that he was still safe. This letter stated that he was doing fine. He planned to stay where he was for the winter--working in a lumber mill. Thought he would push on again come spring. Maybe even to the coast. Hadn't had himself a look at the ocean yet. He sent his love.

He gave no return address and even the postage stamp was blurred, so they were none the wiser as to his whereabouts. They had hoped to respond by writing to let him know that they wished him well and hoped that he would soon be returning home.

Marty shared the letter at mealtime with all those about the table. Clark had read it previously but listened carefully as she read. She could see relief in his eyes. He thought highly of young Tom.

Time had erased much of the anxiety from the young Missie. She now seemed to think very little of the young man who had suddenly gone from her life--the man that she had childishly pledged herself to marry.

Marty looked about her table. How changed they all were from the time when Tom had left. She supposed that he had changed, too.

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Nandry was now a young lady. She was still quiet, though always industrious. Marty had eventually given up trying to get close to her and accepted her as she was. "Bless her heart," thought Marty, "she's been worth her keep an' thet $10 over and over agin." Yet Marty was well aware that Nandry would likely be lost to them before long.

At least two of the neighborhood boys were busy studying Nandry. And, Marty observed, Nandry always looked back with flushed cheeks and an unusual twinkle in her eye.

Clae, too, was almost a young lady. She was near the end of her education in the one-room school, but not anywhere near the end of her hunger for knowledge. Marty and Clark had lain nights discussing her. Her burning desire was to become a teacher, and Clark felt that even though many dollars would be involved, Clae should be given the opportunity. Clae would have to go away for her schooling. Marty dreaded the thought.

Missie was eleven now--still a bundle of energy that was one minute a little girl and the next minute stretching toward womanhood. She loved school; in fact, Missie welcomed each new venture. She still did not like Willie LaHaye. But now she just ignored him.

Clare was nine. A bright boy who still preferred
doing
to learning; though there was nothing wrong with his ability in either area. He still mimicked Clark and watched carefully to
see
how his pa handled situations.

Arnie in turn followed Clare. Almost six, Arnie was going to be allowed to attend school this fall.

Three-year-old Ellie was a small bundle of brightness in everybody's life. Happy and playful, she darted among them like a small butterfly, enriching the lives of all whom she touched.

In the family cradle rested a new little head. Baby Luke had been added to the family. More than once Marty had sincerely thanked God for Nandry since the arrival of little Luke, for unlike her others, this baby was a fussy one, demanding attention just at the time when a mother was the busiest. Nandry did her best to comfort the unhappy child.

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"My family," thought Marty, looking round the table. "My strange, wonderful family." Lest she become teary-eyed with emotion just thinking of each one, she herded her thoughts back to safer ground and went on with her meal. Clark rescued her.

"Saw Cam today."

"Did ya?"

"He had Rett with 'im. Do ya know thet thet boy can already handle a team. Should've see'd Cam. Proud as punch. Says Rett's gonna be the best horseman in these here parts. Might too. Seems to be a natural with animals."

"Isn't thet somethin'."

"Cam says he wouldn't be none surprised to see thet lad take 'im on the tamin' of a bear. Never says a word, but he seems to make the animals understand 'im.

"Mr. Cassidy says thet Cam never comes to town but he brings Rett either on the wagon beside 'im or up in front of 'im in the saddle."

Mr. Cassidy was the gentleman who had taken over the McDonald's store.

Clark seemed to be deep in thought for a moment.

"Funny thing. Cam's changed. Watchin"im move about town with his son I noticed a thoughtfulness 'bout 'im. He ain't thinkin' on Cam Marshall no more. I think others note it, too. Seem to have new respect fer 'im someway. Thought as I watched 'im leavin' town with thet boy up there beside 'im handlin' the reins, 'There goes a real man.'"

Marty nodded, her eyes clouding a bit, but mostly her thoughts were of Wanda and the happiness that she would feel in having given Cam a son that he could love and be proud of. She switched the subject.

"Did ya happen to see Mr. McDonald?"

"Yeah. Saw 'im sittin' on the bench out in front of the store with Ole Tom and Jake Feidler. Didn't talk to 'im more than a howdy."

"How's he seem?"

"Pretty good. I think thet he be right glad to be back." Mrs. McDonald had passed away two years previously,