Serendipity (40 page)

The muscle in his cheek twitched. “The stove stays. But that abomination stays back in the hills!”

“Well, well. I just might make a trader out of you yet.”

He gave the stove a disgruntled look. “That’s not going in my barn.”

“I could turn the sod wall into a summer kitchen. If you put it there, I promise I’ll never use it to bake prune bread.”

“Deal!”

Maggie went inside. She took care of Ma’s needs, but Ma balked at doing exercises.

Exasperated, Maggie demanded, “What do you expect me to tell Jerlund in my next letter? This sad state of affairs is going to disappoint him.”

“I’ll do better.” Ma caught Maggie’s hand. “Not just about my exercises.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Steering Ma through the door, Maggie promised herself she’d water all the vegetables before she checked her roses.

“You’re going to do it.” Ma burst into tears. “You’re going to make me stay with her.” Ma was beside herself. Sobbing, she babbled an incomprehensible stream of words.

Maggie grabbed a pair of dish towels and a glass of water. “A hanky would be a waste of time. Here, now. Take a sip.” It took a fair bit of work to calm Ma – though that term seemed generous. “What’s upset you?”

“You went to town, and you got that . . . that
thing.
That stove. It says it all.”

“I’ve yet to hear a stove talk, Ma.” Maggie teased softly, tenderly wiping the sagging side of Ma’s face. “It’s a gift from my family. Think of the delicious meals that’ll come from it.”

Ma shook her head. “I will be gone. Why would I want to think about that?”

“And where, I’m asking, are you supposing you’d be?”

“Living with Eunice O’Toole. You went to town and met with the doctor and her. And then you brought back that oven so there won’t be any room for me.”

Dropping the dish towel and spilling the water, Maggie yelled, “What kind of silly notion was that? Am I the only one in this house whose heart and mind work right? You’re not going anywhere!”

Temporarily stunned, Ma simply blinked.

“Your son won’t risk his heart, and you think I haven’t a heart a-tall. You think I’d shove you out the door so a block of iron could take your place? Nay! True and to be certain, you’ve been a handful and sometimes a heartache. But you’re
our
handful – and you can quit being a heartache if you set your mind to it.

“Paw-Paw said you could foster happiness and add to our joy – or sow hurt and discord. It’s a choice you make each day, each hour, and with each thought. You’re our kin, and we take care of our own. I’d have it no other way. But kin doesn’t make war on one another. No folks ought to – but certainly not people under the same roof. The time’s come for harmony, and you have to do your part.

“You’re stuck with me, Helga Crewel. Your son wed me, and I’ve pledged my heart to him. I left everyone I love behind and came west because I was convinced it was God’s will. Day by day I’ve come to love my man more. He’s too blind to see. You’re just as blind if you think I’d boil up a pot of hatred and serve it to you until you had to leave. At eight, I lost my mama. Arletta’s half the world away. I’m missing a ma and you’re missing a daughter. God could knit us together if you’d stop tying a bunch of knots.

“Blessing or curse – you decide what you want to be. We’ve all made mistakes. We’re bound to again. But if you think I’d strand you with anyone, then take your pick of who it’ll be and get yourself out of that chair and walk to ’em. Because the only house I’ll ever push you in is right behind you.”

“What is this?” Maggie sat down to the breakfast table.

“Piece of paper,” Ma muttered.

Todd’s smile stretched from one side of the cabin to the other. “It’s Monday. My turn for the love token.”

“Hmm.” The paper envelope rustled as she unfolded it. “ ‘IOU a lifetime of roses.’ ” She looked at him. “How touching.”

“I mean it. I telegraphed Uncle Bo, and he’s sending more of your legacy. They arrive tomorrow night.”

She squealed his name, and he swept her up. Later, Maggie tucked her IOU into her dresser drawer. It meant far more than a dozen roses. It meant Todd loved her – even if he was too blind to know it yet himself.

Over the next weeks, her hope grew along with the roses. Almost half the injured ones recovered, and the new ones flourished. Though he wouldn’t touch the roses whatsoever, Todd wandered by as she tended them and even plucked weeds as they’d discuss something minor. With water as precious as could be, he’d haul out bathwater for the garden and dishwater for the pigs – but each day, he left two buckets of fresh water by her rose garden.

After putting Ma to bed, he’d take Maggie for moonlight walks in the rose garden, too. What could be more romantic than that? He’d promised a lifetime of roses – and was sharing it day in and day out. Some evenings they traded memories of their pasts, others Maggie shared the tales that accompanied the roses.

“They’ve put down roots, Wife, and so have you,” he told her one night.

“Then plan on keeping the farm, plowboy.”

“Only if God wills and the price of wheat holds.” Letting out a soul-deep sigh, Todd said, “The balance is so close, one small tilt of His hand will make the determination.”

Maggie gave him a steady look. “Faith. I have faith in Him and in you.”

Wheat rippled in the wind. Sun scorched down on Todd, and tomorrow would do the same. He walked the field, reached out, and ran a head of the grain through his palm. Wheat and chaff. Useful and useless – just like all the labor they’d exerted to raise this crop. According to his calculations, when they finished harvesting, they’d make enough to cover the mortgage. By sheer grit and God’s grace they’d keep their land. But that was it. Wheat had dropped to fifty-five cents. Pathetically, shamefully lower than it had been in years and years.

A man ought to enjoy the fruits of his labor. But their daily bread was about all his labor yielded. He wanted more for Maggie and Ma. Especially Maggie. She’d worked alongside him, been the helpmeet he’d prayed for. Todd stopped. Surrounded by a sea of rippling gold, he was a pauper – but also a very rich man. Because he and Maggie would reap a crop of togetherness for years to come because of the time they’d spent out working together.

Lord, she’s the answer to my prayers, but I am not the answer to
hers. I haven’t been the provider she deserves. I wanted to make enough
just to add on a little room
.

Loud rustling sounded nearby. He strode toward the noise. “Maggie!”

“It’s my turn for the love token. Simple as it is, I’m hoping it’ll hit the spot. How’s about a sip o’ sweet tea? I wish it were cooler, but it’ll still help your parched throat.”

He accepted the glass but tipped it to her lips first. “That sip was no more than a bird would take.” He tilted it again.

“I’m a magpie. And don’t you be forgetting it!” Flashing a smile, she stepped back just enough to avoid the glass.

A few long, steady gulps and he drained every drop. Rolling the glass against his forehead, he cooled off. “Ahhh. How did I live without you, Magpie?”

“None too good.” She laughed. “Not from the taste of the meal the one time you cooked!”

He looped his arms around her, pulled her close, and took a breath. “I’ve been looking at figures. Yours, I like. The ones for the farm, I don’t. Because of the extra crops and bartering, we’ll barely make the mortgage when the harvest is in.”

“I’ll thank you for the compliment, but I’ll beg to disagree with your disappointment. We’re holding on to our land. Someday our sons and daughters will play among these wheat stalks, and later help harvest them. That’s good by me. We’ll have lean years and good ones, so I reckon landing in the middle our very first year together is a success.”

“Being penniless is not a success. I will sell the horses to provide for the seed and staples next year. We can make it through that way. It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.”

Wheat rustled all around them. She closed her eyes. “That’s music, Todd. I told you music is important to my people, and you gave me a wheat symphony, a whole season of listening to the soft brush of stalks. I learnt the pride of eating my daily bread, appreciating everything that went into the flour I dumped into my bowl.” Her eyes opened. “Things like that can’t be bought with cash money. And they can’t be bought with a broken dream. We’re keeping the horses. Furthermore, you’re mistaken if you think my love for you would change depending on the bank account. I didn’t marry you for money.”

“Good thing.”

She stepped closer. “I didn’t marry you for your land.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nay.” A coy smile tilted her lips as her skirts brushed his pant legs. “I didn’t marry you for your good looks nor for your strong back, neither.”

“Hmmm.”

“You know I married you on faith. With love.”

“I’m sure glad you did.”

Her hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “But I really married you . . .” An impish spark lit her features. “For Ma and apple pie!”

Encircling her waist, Todd lifted her high into the air and listened to her laugh. She might like the symphony of wheat stalks, but her laughter was the most beautiful music in the world. Slowly, he brought her back down and claimed a kiss.

Later that evening, Todd took Maggie’s hand in his and walked through her rose garden. In the very middle of it, he stopped. “There is something I want you to have. It does not come alone, though.”

“We have a crop to bring in, wonderful horses, and my roses are in bloom. My mother-in-law can find a nice streak every so often . . .

I love my husband. What else do you think I want or need?”

He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a ring. “The one thing that’s been missing from the start. A ring is a symbol of love. It has no beginning and no end. I believed there would be a beginning of my love for you, but I cannot look back and say for certain when that moment was. With your fire and your fierce love, you have captured my heart. This was my grandmother’s ring. I want you to wear it as a reminder – not just that you are my wife, but that I have come to love you.”

Tears of joy shimmered in her eyes.

“I prayed for a wife, and God used the worst of circumstances to bring about the most unexpected and best in my life. Serendipity is when happiness sneaks in unplanned. Serendipity I call it, when God brought us together. Karl knows silversmithing. Inside this wedding band, I had him inscribe
serendipity
. In our years together, we will look to see the touches of God’s love and grace in the unexpected places.”

He slid the band on her finger and kissed her.

“Come here,
Woman.
”

She gasped as he lifted her into his arms, but that made it all the sweeter. Todd carried his love over the threshold, and everything in their world settled into place.

Twenty-One

Maggie’s world turned upside down. “Here? They want to start here with the harvest? That’s not the order you told me it’s supposed to be in. Why isn’t it at the Stauffers’?”

“Annie’s sick. After the influenza the area suffered last harvest, no one wants to spread a sickness. Mr. White’s got summer complaint, so that makes it smartest to start here.” Todd hadn’t bothered to dismount. “You have two days, Maggie. You’ll have everything ready.”