THE PATH TO A PROMISE CHAPTER 4

 

CHAPTER FOUR

A week later Olive sat on the wicker rocker on her parents' front porch, pulling her wool shawl closer and shivering like the bare trees shaken by the wind. When Lizzie told their parents about Olive and Henry and that the tickling of love bloomed in Olive’s heart, it was snapped off like buds from a rosebush. Her folks showed up on the farm, demanding Olive return home.

She watched the road and wished for Henry to come riding his horse over the hill toward the house. She longed to go back to Lizzie’s place. She missed her sister. Olive admired Lizzie with great pride and joy. She would do almost anything to help Lizzie and make her happy. They got along very well, sharing a typical enthusiasm for learning new things. They viewed each new day as an opportunity, not a humdrum, carbon-copy day.

Olive would follow Lizzie anywhere. Lizzie was popular among the families in the area. She was smart and helped the other kids study their lessons. She had a good memory and was always trying to learn something new. Sometimes, she filled in for the teacher at the schoolhouse when the teacher was ill. She had many friends, too. The three Madison girls, Lydia, Sadie, and Minnie were her best friends. They worked together, sat together in church, and were seen together everywhere. Yes, Lizzie led a good life filled with happiness, love, and friends. Olive wanted to be just like her.

Hot tears welled in Olive’s eyes. She thought she was done crying and had no tears left. Swiping at her face with her sleeve, she sniffed. She had no energy or desire to finish her dress for the church dedication, and her happiness had vanished. She was confused. Girls were supposed to grow up, get married, and start a family. Why were her parents in such a tizzy about her doing that very thing?

Bud and Nancy tried to comfort Olive and coax her to go with Bud to the woods and help him with the horses at the logging camp. Ben offered to take her fishing. Nothing worked. Olive walked around with a sullen face and gloomy disposition. Her spirits were crushed, and her mood was mean. Just a few days ago, she questioned her feelings for Henry Winters. Did absence make the heart grow fonder? Because now, she concluded that she did like him.

 

Olive pushed her foot against the porch floor to set the rocker in motion. The steady rhythm of the rocking chair helped her think. The cold breeze ruffled her hair, as it blew across her face. She hated for anyone to be mad at her. And oh my, her parents were angry. She must reconcile with them if she wanted to return to Lizzie's farm. Her mother's birthday was on Halloween in two days. If she planned a surprise party, maybe that would be the beginning which might turn them around. She would bake a tasty cake. Lizzie had pumpkins stored in her barn. Bobbing for apples was always fun. She decided to talk to Pa and coax him into letting her plan a party.

Pushing out of the rocker, Olive made her way to the corral. Crossing through the fence, she trotted down the path to her father’s logging operation. Stopping in the walnut grove, she watched as the men pulled a tree down and worked to prepare it for cutting. A team of horses pulled the chained tree forward for sawing, and the men got to work with their crosscut saws.

Bud stopped to rest and drink from his jug. He eyed his daughter coming down the path, and a smile broke across his long face. When he and Nancy brought Olive home, it upset him deeply. He knew his two older daughters were close. Olive followed Lizzie around like a lost kitten. He hated being at odds with his children.

“You decide to visit your pa?” Holding out his arms to catch her in an embrace. He held her close and squeezed tightly.

“Hi, Pa!” Olive smelled whiskey. He was drinking again today. She gave him a little tug before letting him go and moved a few steps away. “I want to plan a birthday party for Mother. Will you help me?”

“A party? That’s a nice thing to do, but it's too short a notice to invite people." He shook his graying head.

“It'll be a simple surprise for Mother and just us.” She smiled her best smile and puckered her lips.

“What do you need me to do, Child?” He waited for her answer, looking at the ground.

“I need your approval.” She batted her eyes at him and told him her plan. “Just help keep it a surprise. We will have it in the barn, use pumpkins from Lizzie’s farm, and use apples for bobbing!”

Bud nodded. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to you tonight after I get done. I need to get over and help Charlie and Vernie.” He stood, shaking off the dirt from his baggy overalls.

Olive threw her arms around his skinny frame. Hugging him tightly and drawing away, she waved as her father returned to where the men sawed branches off the giant tree. She did it! Clapping her hands, she made mental notes of what not to forget to do. If it turned out as she hoped, she would return to Lizzie’s farm soon—and back into Henry Winters' life.

On the night of the party, Olive made amends with her parents. They had a great time carving pumpkins and bobbing for apples in one of Bud’s whisky barrels. Olive baked a luscious apple cake for her mother, and Lizzie made a special boiled sugar icing that lit everyone’s eyes with delight and tempted their taste buds.

Lizzie embroidered tea towels for her mother, and Olive promised to wash and dry the dishes for a week as a gift. Pa gave his wife a beautiful walnut table to set beside her chair. Ma declared it would be a nice place to keep her Bible and Sunday school literature. Ben carved a wooden letter opener for her. Pearl stitched a handkerchief she had cut from an old dress. Nancy was indeed surprised and delighted.

 

***

The next day, at the church dedication, people packed into the building. The families were crowded, but it did not stop them from rejoicing in the Lord and thanking Him for giving them the means to form such a glory-filled flock. Olive sat with her family on the right side of the church, two rows from the front, in their usual spot.

David and Christina Winters came through the double doors, with Henry tagging behind. They sat farther back in the pews near the potbelly stove. David’s band instruments were stored in the far corner. David had a family band that played on all occasions. While he played a big bass drum with his brother on a smaller version, the younger men were good with cornets.

Olive’s neck tingled as she sat listening to the preacher talk. She imagined Henry’s stare boring in her back. She scratched her ear as a smile played about her lips.

“Whatcha’ grinin’ for, Ellie?” Ben whispered. When Olive did not answer, he pulled on her braid. “I said…”

Olive swatted at his hand, missed, and whacked her Bible with a loud thump. Glaring at her brother, her message was clear.

Ben chuckled low and reached to pull her hair again, but Bud’s long arm snaked from behind and touched his shoulder. Ben met the glare of the devil. He dropped his hand to his lap and gazed at the preacher.

Olive grinned and warned, “You’ll be tarred and feathered if you act out again, Ben Johnson.”

“Nuh-uh,” he whispered. His voice was so low it seemed to come out of his mouth as a growl.

“You can pull Mayme Bond’s braids after the sermon’s over. I seen her folks come in,” Olive teased, waggling her eyebrows.

“Where?” Ben burst out, turning to look about the church. After a moment, he turned back to his sister, his brows drawing low. “You’re just teasin’ me!”

Olive shook her head as a broad grin crept over her lips. “They’re back to the left, down by the stove.”

Ben craned his neck to have a look just as his ear got pinched. “Ow!” He let out a yelp that would put a coyote to shame. Bud leaned toward his son; his face was the fire, and Ben was the wood. It said it all. Ben quieted down and sat on the wooden pew, staring straight ahead. If a gnat buzzed by, he wouldn't lift a hand.

Pastor Dave Akehurst delivered a powerful message with the musings of love. Flipping his Bible to the Book of First Corinthians, he waited while everyone found it in their Bibles. His green eyes swept over his flock. “The first Book of Corinthians is about solving relationship problems.” He waited for the flock’s reactions. “There are many different relationships in our lives. I am going to start with love. Turn to chapter thirteen.”

 

***

When Pastor Akehurst said “love,” Henry whipped his head around from whispering into his brother’s ear and looked at the preacher. Had the preacher been talking to him? He bent his head toward the front. He was all ears.

“Now, when I say ‘love,’ there are many different types. You can love your neighbor, you can love your wife or your husband, you can love your children, and you can love yourself. I hope you love your neighbor. You can even love your old hound dog or your fastest horse.” He stopped for a moment while many laughed. “But most of all, I pray you love our Lord and Master.”

Henry sneaked a peek at Olive sitting in the second row on the left side of the church. She sat with her back against the wood pew, her shoulders square, her dark head bent toward the Bible in her lap. Ben and Pearl sat like turtles sunning on a log, staring straight ahead. Lizzie held a sleeping Clara Mae on her lap.

Grinning to himself, he sank lower in the pew, his long legs protruding in front of him. His just-shined-that-morning boots raked over the floor planks. He felt a nudge in his side. His mother glared at him with green eyes. Christina Winters’ round body was wedged between Henry and her husband. Holding a Bible in her gloved hands, she appeared calm and collected. Rather than embarrass them both by calling attention to his disobedience, a raised eyebrow gave a silent warning.

Henry immediately sat up and gave her an adoring grin, then moved closer to her. The scent of lavender water played with his nose, and her purple taffeta shirtwaist felt smooth against his arm. Although his mother rarely smiled, she was one of the happiest people in Brooming County. But she did not show it. Usually, Christina’s face was somber, with just a hint of humor playing about her mouth. Kind of like that Mona Lisa woman he saw a picture of in a book. A slightly lifted eyebrow meant she was a no-nonsense woman. Henry loved his mother, and she loved him.

Christina smiled back at her son with that familiar serenity and confidence. A fashionable new purple hat perched on her head, matching her skirt and shirtwaist.

“For the next few Sundays, we’ll discuss relationships from the Book of First Corinthians.” Pastor Akehurst continued, giving a stirring sermon to which there were many “Amens!” from the congregation. The choir, mostly older people, sang about counting your blessings.

Henry’s eyes swept through the congregation, noting how many couples appeared happy and loving versus those who seemed cold and miserable. A smile played on his lips as he counted more happy couples than unhappy ones. But what made the others sad? He needed to find out before he got himself in a heap of trouble by marrying Olive. He lost his smile.

A thought struck him. Did Tom tell him everything about marriage? He glanced at his older brother, whose family sat on the left side of the church. Little Roy sat beside his mother, and sister Opal was beside him. Emma’s rounded belly looked like it might explode any minute.

Henry grinned. They looked happy. His brother said that marriage was the best thing that ever happened to him. His smile returned as he remembered his inheritance. Henry's chest puffed with pride. Olive was his ticket to his dream. His next move was to talk to Father so he could start building a house.

The last song played on the piano, the Sunday services closed with an invitation to the well-laden tables of food and drinks waiting outside. People filed out the doors and made their way to the food. Plates rattled, and folks talked to their neighbors as they stood in line. Screams rent the air as children played tag and swung on the new board swings.

Henry kept her eyes peeled for Olive. He spotted her at the corner of the church. Catching her eyes, he smiled, and she returned the smile. He motioned with his head toward the horses and buggies. She nodded and stayed near her mother.

Olive walked across the churchyard through the crowd of people near the tables and the children playing games. He followed her behind the woodshed and down the path to the outhouse. Lights danced in her eyes, and he put a gloved finger over his lips and grinned.

“Henry! Aren’t you afraid we’ll get caught?”

He leaned toward her and whispered, “If I was, we wouldn’t be standing here, would we?” A sneaky smile danced over his mouth as he tipped her chin with his index finger.

Henry grabbed her gloved hand and whispered, “Come on!”