Authors: Cathy Marie Hake
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious, #ebook, #book
“We must have good neighbors. They set up all my furniture so nicely. Todd’s best piece was his cot, so we brought mine, you see.” Affecting a half smile, Helga looked at Maggie and rubbed her right hand back and forth just below her beloved plate on the very table she’d begun housekeeping with as a bride. “This has always been my place at my table.”
“I can understand why.” Magpie flashed a grin. “A wife should always sit beside her husband.”
Bold as brass, that girl! She won’t stop at anything to get what she
wants – even if it means taking away what’s familiar to me when I
have nothing other than my memories. It wouldn’t hurt her one bit to
yield to me.
“Todd and I will be putting our bed up today. As we arrange the furniture, we’ll try to do something about the table.”
“Yes.” Todd looked about. “The Bible?”
“On Ma’s pillow. She was reading earlier.”
That was a lie – not Maggie’s, but hers. Ever since she’d had her apoplectic fit, Helga hadn’t been able to read. The letters all looked like hieroglyphics. Their shapes made no sense whatsoever. After losing her first husband, all through her second unhappy marriage and the years with Arletta, Helga had found great solace in the Scriptures. She’d read them avidly. Only she’d never been good at memorization. Now that lack haunted her. It was bad enough she couldn’t walk or tend herself; she refused to let anyone discover that she’d reverted to being no better than an illiterate child. So when Maggie offered the Bible, she always accepted it. Sometimes she’d even turn the page.
Guilt prompted her to snap, “Don’t tell him where the Bible is. Get it!”
“I’ll be happy to fetch the Bible, Todd.” Maggie simpered. “Ma’s chair is at an angle, and I’m stuck here. As soon as you straighten her out – ”
“Straighten me out! I am not a wayward child in need of discipline.”
Todd stepped behind her but said nothing. A slightly jerky maneuver, then he pushed her back in. “So.” He motioned to his wife to stay seated and got the Bible himself.
Yet another reminder that I’m in the way.
The hillbilly took hold of her hand. “Ma, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. The chair was cockeyed is all, and my man set it to right.”
My man.
Not “Todd” or “your son.” Like the bird she’d taken her name from, Magpie chattered on, “We’ll find ways to make things work. I’m going to do every last thing I can to help you get back to where you used to be.”
As shakes started to overtake her, Helga couldn’t say whether it was from anger or fear. It wasn’t enough that she was being pushed away from her own spot at her own table; she was being told she wasn’t welcome in her son’s home!
“Speaking of which, I’ll be needing a nice, thick dowel, Todd. About an inch in diameter and so long.” Magpie held her hands about a foot and a half apart.
His brows knit. “Wood is expensive.”
“I already have rope, so that part’s taken care of. I saw the nails in the barn, too. So with a dowel, I can hang a bar over the bed for Ma.”
“Nein!” Helga grabbed her son’s arm. “This bar she plans – it is a punishment. She left me alone this morning until I couldn’t wait any longer and I – ” Unable to actually say aloud what she’d done, she sobbed and shook her head. “I could not help it. That hurt my pride – but it was in private. This bar would shame me. Anyone who pays a visit will see it.” Swiping madly at her tears, Helga tried in vain to stop crying. “She knows it was her fault, and she hides the truth from you – but you watch. Soon sheets will be laundered.”
“The laundry is already boiling. I’d best go check on it.” Magpie scooted back her chair. The door shut behind her with a scrape of the latch.
Eyes trained on the edge of his mug, her son used his thumb to move it clockwise by the handle. “Back in the Ozarks, Margaret kept this a secret even from me – that you messed the bed. On the train, my wife woke during the night and early in the morning in order to spare any embarrassment.” Neither his face nor voice reflected any emotion. “I do not need a chamber pot, nor does she. But she brought one from her old home for you. This morning she went to the barn to get it.”
Rising, Todd rested his hand on the Bible. “At dinner, I will read.” Then he, too, departed. Having been widowed twice, Helga knew she could lean on the Lord and her children. Now she couldn’t read her Bible, Arletta abandoned her, and Todd . . . He hadn’t even come to her defense. He’d just soundly put her in her place by standing up for his bride.
Gott, how could you do this to me and leave me all alone?
When Todd came in for dinner, Maggie purposefully sat in her rightful place at the table. Acting as if everything was right in the world, he pushed Ma to the other spot and took his own seat. For all her talk earlier, Ma now kept silent. Ignoring her snit, Maggie conversed with Todd.
“John left my gelding, Axe, here last night. All my horses are named after tools.” Todd scooped in another gigantic bite. “Tomorrow I will reclaim my hogs from John. The Richardsons have the hens. Creighton kept my other horses at Never Forsaken in my absence. I told him I would fetch them this afternoon.”
As dinner ended, Todd gave Maggie a solemn look. “You pray before you eat. We also pray after the meal. It is not enough to be thankful for the food. After partaking, one should dedicate the strength it gives to God’s service.”
The custom appealed to Maggie. “The sentiment must be pleasing to the Almighty. Do we do it after every meal, or is it just after dinner and supper since we didn’t this morning?”
“You left the table.” Ma scowled at her. “No one can force you to dedicate your service to the Lord, so my son didn’t call you back inside.”
Todd ignored his mother’s comment and instead gave a short, heartfelt prayer. Once done, he stated, “The train ride exhausted Ma. I will put her to bed for a nap, and then I will do today’s reading from Proverbs.”
Substantial as she was, Ma wasn’t easy to move around. Maggie appreciated how Todd saw to such matters. She rubbed Ma’s back while he read the third chapter of Proverbs.
At the very end of the chapter a verse jumped out at Maggie. “ ‘Surely he scorneth the scorners: but he giveth grace unto the lowly.’ ” She’d seen the way her husband’s mother changed. Maggie understood all too clearly: As a temporary caregiver, she’d been acceptable, but she wasn’t up to snuff for wife material. Her scorn came across, but Maggie knew God was calling her to meet it with grace.
Todd went back out to work. Maggie slowly coaxed Ma’s left hand open, rubbed lotion into each little nook and cranny, then grabbed a small jar and slid it into Ma’s palm. “Hands ofttimes curl up tight when someone suffers apoplexy. This’ll keep everything opened into a wide arc and help your fingers stay limber.”
“You’re doing it to make me look ridiculous.” Ma pushed away the jar.
“I waited until we were alone.” Maggie replaced the jar and held it in place.
Arguing wouldn’t help, so Maggie set to washing the dishes. Ma kept up a commentary that was just as ugly as her plates. Nothing suited her. Maggie’s dress, the way she’d left the back part of her hair down, and the song Maggie hummed all came under attack. “You’re not taking my bed away and sticking me on that rickety cot.”
Maggie stacked the last dried cup on the shelf. “That’s a needless concern.”
“You took my place at the table. You’re just as likely to want my bed. Don’t think I didn’t see you put something in my dresser.”
“I put away some of your clothes.”
“Those hideous castoffs aren’t mine. They’re hillbilly rags.”
Biting her tongue, Maggie stepped out the front door and leaned against it, only to jerk away. Sure enough, she’d gotten a splinter from the rough door. Pulling out the half-inch nuisance, she glanced back at the cabin.
“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked
this way comes.”
The line from
Macbeth
shot through her mind.
I’m
not going to think like that. I’m not. I came out here to get a fresh breath
of air.
In the distance, Todd rode off.
“Thy mother’s name is ominous
to children”
from
Richard III
resonated in her brain. She shook her head. Of all the times for lines from Shakespearean plays to echo through her memory, this had to be the worst. A smile tugged at her lips. The lines were pertinent.
Impertinent, too. Disrespectful. I’m like that proverb my husband
just read – being scornful instead of lowly and humble.
“Holy Spirit, you’re going to have to heap grace onto me. It befuddles me how an acid-tongued woman like her reared such a kindhearted son. My man’s trying to honor his ma, and that’s something to be admired. He deserves a home filled with laughter and love, not sadness or strife. He’ll be out of the cabin and I’ll be here with Ma all day. I knew that up front when he proposed, but his mama hadn’t shown this mean side of her nature. If you’ll help me turn the other cheek to her, I’d be much obliged.”
Feeling she’d set her heart to rights, Maggie faced the afternoon. While Ma was awake she kept thinking up something she needed; when ready to fall asleep, any movement in the cabin bothered her. Maggie did the best she could. Straight off, she seized every old catalog and outdated almanac and took them to the outhouse, solving the lack of essentials. Cottonwood leaves would not suffice!
Good thing she’d brought rope for clothesline. A short row of nails on the eaves had been Todd’s “clothesline.” Because wood cost so dearly, she devised a dandy V-shaped clothesline from the cottonwood to the corner of the cabin. A breeze soon made Ma’s sheets wave and whuffle dry.
It never occurred to Maggie how many of her recipes included milk, butter, or eggs. Without any of those three things, it made planning meals difficult.
Todd had said the Richardsons would soon return the chickens, but a milk cow was expensive. A goat would do just as well – and it was cheaper to feed, too.
Tonight, I’ll make do. Tomorrow, though,
I’m going to barter for the necessities.
Tall in the saddle, Todd led a string of fine horses home about an hour later. Maggie made sure Ma was okay, then lifted her skirts and ran to the barn. “Aren’t you a sight! Riding off on a handsome gelding, I thought you a prince among men, but I was wrong. You’re a king, and you came back with treasures of your own, didn’t you? A whole caravan of them. Their lines are grand. Strong. Sleek legs and shiny coats. After you told me about the wolves attacking your colts, I worried about them. But they both trot true – not an off step or a wobble!”
Todd grunted as he dismounted and immediately hitched the fractious stallion to a post.
Since he had told her at dinner that he planned to keep the colts stabled, Maggie took them into the barn, and their mama trotted right behind them. Nuts and Bolts gladly accepted the oats. Wrench nosed them away and lipped some for herself.
Across the way, Todd charmed Eve with a stream of compliments. Dusting off her hands, Maggie watched Todd concentrate on the mare
.
“Eve likes the sound o’ your tongue. Scared as she was when first I traded for her, I thought a different language might make her feel safe. She’s partial to Deutsch.”
“Schon, schon.”
He reached out and rubbed Eve’s neck. She leaned into the contact. Something mystical happened between a man and a horse when they decided to accept one another.
Watching Todd and her mare cross the river of trust, Maggie stayed silent until he stepped away. “Sure and for certain, Eve’s taken to you. You’ve got a firm hand and a kind voice. Adam’s preference goes contrary to your bent.” At Todd’s quizzical look, she explained, “His original owner cursed at him. Unless he’s insulted first, Adam won’t obey. If you use a fresh string of words so he’s listening to a new song, he’s more likely to mind.” She flashed him a grin. “Seems to me, stallions get the quirks.”