THE PATH TO A PROMISE CHAPTERS 6 & 7

CHAPTER SIX

Henry shared with Olive and Lizzie what he knew about his brother’s death. “You know Walter’s been sick for months with terrible congestion and that hacking cough. The way Minnie described it, my poor brother suffered something terrible. When his temperature soared, that scared them, and Minnie sent for the doctor. By the time her folks and my folks got there, he’d started the death rattle. It scared Mama so bad she fell to her knees by his bedside, crying out to God to save her boy. Doc Baker thinks Walter’s death is caused by running back and forth to the courthouse for all the hearings and Dan's trial."

"Your poor mom and dad have lost another son! It’s as if Joe Tanner killed Walter!" Olive couldn't believe what was taking place. Death was hard to bear. Grief sometimes lasted for years, haunting those who bore its weight from losing loved ones.

Henry rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to numb the pain and sorrow. "I guess by the time Doc arrived, Walter couldn't catch his breath. Minnie worked as fast as she could to keep him cool, but it wasn’t enough. Walter was so weak he couldn’t fight. Doc Baker said they first thought he had influenza, but it was pneumonia. Walter was too weak to cough because fluid had collected in his lungs. He died in his bed.”

Olive and Lizzie cried as Henry talked. “Mother and Father may never recover." He sighed and moved his hands over his mouth and face. "Minnie’s brothers have been staying with her the last few days, helping with the five kids while Minnie tended to Walter. George and Tom’s been doing the work on the farm because Walter sure couldn’t do anything.” Henry drew a breath and stared at the wall momentarily. Hanging his head, his black hat shadowed his face. With shoulders trembling, he grieved. It was another death for the family to endure.

Olive wiped tears away, saying nothing, for there was nothing to say. Instead, she moved to Henry, her arms gathering him in a firm embrace.

After a moment, Henry removed his hat and combed his fingers through his dark hair. Plopping the hat back on his head, he continued, “They’re planning the funeral for the day after Christmas. You know he was a member of the Woodmen of the World. Dad's uncle is the president, and he’s planning for a speaker at the funeral. Walter will be commended for all the good he did as a Woodsman.”

“Yes, and they’ll erect a nice gravestone, too,” Lizzie added. “Some of Dan’s friends were in the program, and the gravestone didn’t cost the family a penny!”

“Can we help do anything?” Olive asked. “Maybe help Minnie with the kids or something?”

“Nah, she’s gone home to her parents until after the funeral. She said she can’t stand to be in the house right now.” Pushing his hat off his forehead, he stood, smiling weakly at Olive. “Guess I outta get out to the barn and see about the cows and horses.”

"I took care of it," Lizzie told him.

“It looks like snow is moving in,” Olive said. “Snow for Christmas.”

Henry frowned. “Except there won’t be a Christmas this year.” He left the house.

 

***

Christmas Day, 1908

 

Lizzie drove Clara Mae and Olive to their parents' home on Christmas Eve. In the early morning light, Olive padded to the window and watched the swirling snow. A winter wonderland unfolded outdoors. The blowing snow blanketed the hills and hollows and piled up on the narrow roads, making travel difficult. Drifts lined the fences and draped everything in the path of the wind. The snow fell like powdered sugar from mother’s sugar shaker. Although the snow was beautiful, the air was cold, and the wind made it more so. A gust hit the window, rattling the chinked pane.

A chill crept across the room and made Olive’s bare toes tingle. She hurried back to the warm bed, snuggling beneath the quilts. Instead of happy Christmas thoughts dancing in her head, the tragedy of Walter's death plagued her. Olive shivered as she thought of David and Christina Winters. They were distraught with grief and disbelief that another of their sons was gone. Tears welled in her eyes. Daniel’s death was tragic enough, yet now, another of their sons would be buried tomorrow.

Her eyes widened as a new thought entered her mind. This was Christmas day, and she would give Henry his gift!

Olive found her family around the Christmas tree, surrounded by Clara Mae’s opened gifts. The little girl was licking a candy cane and fingering a rag doll. The doll mirrored Clara Mae's blonde braids.

“Merry Christmas!” Nancy called out merrily to her daughter. 

“I believe Santa Claus left your presents back at his house this year,” Bud teased. “There’s nothing under there with your name on it.”

“No, it’s up there!” Pearl pointed near the top of the glittering tree.

Olive reached through the thick branches and grasped the box wrapped in cloth and tied with string. Bringing it to the floor, everyone watched as she unwrapped it and removed the black box camera. “How… how did you know I wanted this?" she asked, hugging it to her chest. She turned it over and over, looking at the viewfinder and the buttons.

"Mr. Lamberson suggested it. He said you eyed it every time you went into the store," Bud answered.

Olive gave her gifts to everyone. As each family member unwrapped them, they talked in unison, happily chattering about the joys of Christmas. Bud was delighted with his new pocket watch and immediately began to look it over and compare it with his older one.

"Ben, have you talked to Henry?" Olive asked, her heart full of hope that he had.

"I saw him yesterday at the farm," Ben answered. He finished his breakfast and set the plate aside.

"Did he say what time he would be here today?" Olive quizzed her brother.

"Nah, he was in a hurry; he wanted to get to Rocky Corners."

Olive waited all day, expectancy growing in her heart. But it died when the late evening hour threw dark shadows along the fencerows where the snow had stacked a foot deep. The evening skies were a storybook blue, and a light wind put a sting on the night air. Occasionally, glittering snow whooshed from its resting spot and filtered down to the ground. It was a picture-perfect snow scene.

The family retired for the night one by one, yet Olive stayed put by the fireplace, pretending to read the Bible. Her legs were tucked under her dress, and she refrained from putting on her dressing gown. Henry could arrive at any time. The soft glow from the wood burning in the stone hearth warmed her, and she refused to close her eyes in fear she would miss him when he arrived.

“I think it’s time to go to bed, honey. We have a hard day tomorrow,” Bud’s soft voice drew her attention from the book lying in her lap.

Olive saw her father’s face and knew Henry would not arrive that night.

“He’s not coming. It’s almost midnight.”

Her stomach twisted. She gulped back the outcry that came to her lips. Looking down at the Bible, she closed it and stood up. Her legs were mushy from sitting in the same spot for so long.

“Goodnight, Pa.” She gave her father a quick hug. Henry didn't come to see her. The lone gift lay underneath the tree. All the other gifts were opened. Everyone was happy as Christmas filled their day with love, except her. Biting her lip, Olive watched the flames from the fireplace burning slowly. She had to give Henry the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving. But he could grieve here, with people who knew him.

Her heart wept for his loss. She could help comfort him if only he would let her. She tried to tamp down her disappointment. But it was hard to do.

 

***

The day of Walter's funeral was cold and blustery. A stiff wind blew from the north, sending the powdery snow into a whirlwind. Bright sunshine bore down on the snowy ground, making it seem like a diamond field rather than a churchyard or a cemetery. Mourners surrounded the little white Union Church. Many wagons, carriages, and horses were parked and tethered about the churchyard. Children ran around playing tag while groups of men huddled together. When the Johnson wagon arrived at the church, Bud pulled the team of horses toward the back to shelter them from the icy wind. He set the brake and helped his wife from the wagon.

Olive was greeted by people singing and the tinkle of a piano inside the church. She followed her family inside to wait for the services. She saw the Winters family sitting in a large group to the right in the church pews, but Henry was absent.

Walter’s widow, Minnie, and the five children sat in the front row. Dressed in black from head to toe, she held baby Ray, just two months old. The other children were quiet as they watched people filing in and giving condolences to their mother. Like Lizzie, Minnie was left alone to care for her children and a big farm. And it was Christmas, of all times! It was a dark and unhappy time for all of them. Death had its way of stealing joy at any moment.

Preacher Akehurst spoke first, followed by several men from the church. The service ended with the Woodsmen of the World representative speaking on Walter’s courage and describing the gravestone they intended to erect to memorialize his life as a Woodsman. The tombstone would be carved in St. Louis and arrive next summer.

As the mourners filed outdoors and gathered around the open grave, Olive saw Henry standing to the side of the group, hands in his pockets, hat drawn low over his ears. When the service ended, people sympathized with Walter’s widow and the Winters family. The Johnsons stepped in line to say their respects, and Henry looked at her. “Hello.”

"Hello." The greeting came out in a glum way.

"Did you have a nice Christmas day?"

“No, I sure didn't."

"Why's that?" Henry eyed her, pushing his hat back a tad.

"I waited for you until Pa made me go to bed." Her face gave her feelings away. No smile. No cheery attitude.

“Ah,” he choked out hot words, “You’re mad at me.” Ducking his head, he made circles on the snowy ground with the toe of his boot. "I didn't want to see you." His breath puffed out in little wispy gasps. Drawing a deep breath before he spoke, his shoulders drooped. “Let’s talk about this another time.”

Olive gasped, and at that moment, Lizzie pulled her toward the wagon. "Pa says it's time to leave, Sister." Olive let her sister lead her away. She looked back to see Henry watching her. His face was void and dark. Questions rolled around in her head.

She climbed aboard the wagon, her face burning hotter than the summer sun in July. Her spirits sank when Henry admitted he didn't want to see her. Immediately, she felt guilt wash over her. What did she expect? His brother had died, and she knew how sad he must be. But spending time with people often helped raise a person's spirits in times of deep sadness, didn’t it?. She didn't understand why he stayed away.

Olive’s heart sank as she wondered how she had upset Henry. Her stomach tightened into painful knots, and the day, already heavy with the weight of unspoken doubts, grew even darker. As the wagon jolted over the uneven hills, Olive stared at the rolling landscape, her thoughts a tangled mess. What was she doing? The prospect of marriage loomed before her like a dark cloud, full of uncertainty. Why did people expect women to marry and settle down? She knew women also chose careers over marriage and found fulfillment in work rather than the routine of home and family. But what did she know? She was just a girl, and the future stretched before her like an uncharted road, full of possibilities she couldn't yet grasp.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two weeks passed, and January's weather had warmed; the snow had melted away, leaving deep, slick, muddy ridges from the barn door to the house's front door. Henry attended the farm chores each day and left, not stopping to see Olive or talk to Lizzie. Finally, Lizzie went to the barn one morning when Henry pulled into the barnyard.

"Henry," Lizzie called. "I baked cookies yesterday. When you're done, stop inside and eat with us."

Henry stopped what he was doing and looked at Lizzie before replying, "Let me guess, Olive wants to see me?"

Lizzie hesitated, frowning, then asked, "What is wrong between you two? I thought you might get married one day!"

"I don't want to discuss it, Lizzie." Henry threw a couple of hay bales to the horses and grabbed the milk bucket.

"Forgive me for pushing you. But I believe my sister needs an explanation of what's going on. She needs to know why you don't want to see her anymore!" Lizzie turned and went to the farmhouse.

Henry thought of the situation as he milked Old Betty. He needed his inheritance! Was he going to let this little problem upset his plans to marry Olive and get his inheritance? Just because Olive was selfish and angry that he didn't show up on Christmas there was no reason to treat him this way. He lost his dear brother! He had a right to want to be alone and not see anyone! Was he seeing the true Olive Johnson? Could he live with that kind of behavior?

Emotions bit into him. It was time to claim his inheritance and leave his parents. Why did Father insist that he get married? He grunted in defeat. It would do no good to question Father. As the milk bucket grew full, he knew he had to finish what he set out to do, even though he hated it.

Henry went to the house and told Olive to get ready; they were going for a drive. He borrowed Lizzie's buggy, and they drove down the road, heading for his parents' farm. He apologized to Olive and made excuses for his behavior due to his brother's death. She gave Henry the quilted lap throw, and he was delighted. However, his hands were empty.

“I was preparing to ride to town and pick out your gift,” he explained. “But when Walter died, well…” His face portrayed sincerity. “I didn’t make it to town. I'm afraid I don’t have a gift for you.”

Olive remained calm and listened to his explanation. Her habit of becoming angry and reacting embarrassed her many times. While thinking about everything the past few days, she knew it was time to grow up. And one of the first things she wanted to change about herself was harnessing her temper. However, some little niggling doubts would not go away. Ben told her Henry had gone to Rocky Corners. Why didn't he buy her a gift when he was there? She decided to keep that fact to herself for now. Putting a smile on her lips, she lay her hand atop his. “I understand. You lost a dear brother.”

His eyes twinkled like nighttime stars. “You know I asked you to marry me that day behind the church when your pa caught us…" He glanced at her, gulping several times. "Are you going to answer?"

"Yes, I'll marry you." When the words left her lips, she couldn't say anything else. On the one hand, it made her happy, but on the other, she didn't like it.

He smiled and squelched his elation. He was going to make his father happy, and he would get his land!

Pulling close to the house but not too close to disturb his mother’s flower beds, Henry parked the buggy and helped Olive to the ground. The brown coon hound lying on the front porch barked, announcing their arrival. When they swept through the front door, Christina came forward, wiped her hands on her apron, and greeted Olive with a kiss to both cheeks and a huge hug, enveloping the girl in her ample bosom. To her son, she said, “You finally brought her to visit!”

“Sorry, Mama. We’ve been busy.”

David sat in a wing chair reading a book. He coughed and hid a grin with his hand, rising to greet Olive. His blue eyes twinkled merrily, just like Henry’s sometimes did. Those blue eyes must run in the family.

“Hello, Mr. Winters.” Olive extended her hand.

“Good to see you, Olive. How’s your folks? Is Bud keeping busy in that walnut forest he has?”

She nodded. “He stays busy, even when he doesn’t want to.”

"Come to the table for some refreshments,” Christina called from their large kitchen. "I used apples from the orchard and baked an apple cake with cinnamon icing." The kitchen smelled of apples, sugar, and cinnamon, and the warm air from the oven made it cozy. “I’ve wanted guests so I could bake this cake again. When Henry told us he was bringing you to see us, I decided to bake it. It’s from my mother’s recipe box. She gave it to me when I married David.” She pushed her round glasses further upon her nose.

Olive remembered her mother often speaking of Christina Winters with a mixture of awe and admiration. Christina, an Eastern-bred woman from Indiana, symbolized elegance and refinement in the rugged hills. With roots in the distinguished Hunt family, whose wealth stretched back generations, she carried herself with a grace that marked her as different from the local women. Her father, a prominent business magnate in central Indiana, had instilled in her a deep sense of duty to both family and community.

Christina's impeccable fashion choices set her apart as much as her lineage did. Whether attending church, hosting tea, or simply strolling through town, she was always dressed in the latest styles from the East. Her hair, the color of rich chestnut, was always swept and adorned with a delicate hat or jeweled pins that sparkled in the light. She epitomized the sophisticated woman society held up as the ideal—poised, polished, and perfectly attired. In the eyes of many, including Olive’s mother, Christina represented what a woman should aspire to be: refined, dutiful, and, above all, a shining example of how wealth and good breeding should manifest in a lady.

"I love your apple cakes! This kitchen smells like a sugar factory!” David responded, chuckling. His blonde hair was clipped short, in the front a cowlick made a piece of his hair swoosh to the side. His blue eyes twinkled.

Christina’s right brow rose with happiness like it did every time she talked with her husband.

Henry joined the conversation. “I, too, love the warm and gooey spicy stuff!”

Olive took a bite of the warm confection. The golden cake melted in her mouth, the sweetness spreading through her belly. Cinnamon and apples were one of her favorite foods. “It’s delicious, Mrs. Winters.”

Christina arched a brow higher and smiled affectionately. Her lips drew up like a little bow. “Thank you, Honey.” She took a bite of cake.

The apple cake talk had lightened the mood and deterred them from speaking about Walter’s death and funeral. For the next few minutes, Henry told his parents of their intentions to wed. They took the news with extreme joy.

“Oh my!” Christina gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she fluttered her eyes in dramatic delight. "My baby is at last getting married!" Her voice, a mixture of surprise and joy, echoed through the room as she beamed at Henry.

David let out a hearty laugh and gave his son a knowing look. "Well, it's about time, Henry! I'm happy for you both! And now, you'll get your inheritance! You can take the ten acres above the spring, over by the bluff. It's the best land that's left. You can build a fine home there, as we always planned."

Henry's heart sank as his face flushed a deep red. He avoided Olive’s gaze. The warmth of the moment suddenly turned cold. He had kept the inheritance a secret, not wanting her to know his true intentions. The land was his, a prize he had been waiting for, and he had no intention of sharing that knowledge. But his father had let the truth slip carelessly, and the room seemed to close around him. His smile felt tight, forced, and as hollow as his promises.

"That sounds like a fine idea, Father," Henry replied with a strained voice that barely masked the turmoil swirling inside him. His mind raced, the dread settling in his gut like a stone. He wanted to control the situation and keep his motives hidden, but now the cat was out of the bag. His father ruined everything. He glanced at Olive, but she was conversing with his mother.

David, oblivious to his son's discomfort, nodded with satisfaction. "Good. I'll make it official next week at the Pine Hills courthouse.”

Henry's dread deepened as his father's words hung in the air. He started this plan to secure his land, but now, as the reality of marriage and responsibility loomed before him, the secret that had once seemed like his ticket to freedom now felt like a trap.

“Have you set a wedding date?” Christina again raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, we’ve not got that far, Mama,” Henry answered.

“Yes, we need to talk,” Olive said, looking at Henry.

 

***

On the way home, Henry made small talk until Olive asked him what he dreaded having to explain. While discussing the weather, he thought about how to phrase the explanation. He must be cautious and not lose the chance to marry this girl. He'd have to start all over again to find another. No, that wouldn't do! He didn't want to wait much longer! Once he had his land, he'd be a happy man.

"Henry, what did your father mean about getting your inheritance now that you'll get married?"

Henry jumped at her question, bringing him out of deep thoughts. The reins slipped from his hands, and he almost dropped them. "Oh, that! Father gave each of us kids a portion of the land he claimed when they came to Missouri. I'm the last one to get any. And it's good land, over by the bluffs. We'll go look at it sometime soon."

Olive accepted his answer but didn't ask about going to Rocky Corners and not getting her a Christmas gift. She tamped down the disappointment and held her head high. After all, she was growing up and needed to act mature, mimicking Henry's mother's refinement.

Warmer days became the norm in the New Year, and spring arrived in the Ozarks. Missouri's winter had been cold and miserable. After the Christmas snow, there had been very little to measure, but the icy winds and below-normal temperatures made up for it. As the weeks passed, Henry began working on a cabin on his newly acquired property.

Olive took pictures with her new camera. By keeping busy, Olive’s distress disappeared as she learned how to deal with life. Their romance blossomed like the blooms on the fruit trees.

May Day was always a special time in Rocky Corners. The community planned a May Day picnic for that afternoon after church services. The Redbud and Dogwood trees displayed colorful blossoms, and the lavender lilacs bloomed with a sweet fragrance floating in the breeze.

The schoolteacher, Miss Ruby Abrams, planned for her students to sing various tunes, with a climax of the children performing the winding of the maypole. The students practiced for months to perfect the Maypole winding. It took that long because some of the boys invariably went the wrong way, tying up the ribbons on the maypole.

May Day arrived, and the picnic was a success. The weather cooperated and brought a day filled with warm temperatures and sunshine. Over one hundred people attended the event. Miss Abrams was commended for presenting a lovely children’s performance. Every child sang like the songbirds of the hills and successfully wound the maypole.

People scattered about the grounds, sitting at tables or on quilts on the ground. Children ran and laughed; some played hide-and-seek games like Blind Man’s Bluff or jump rope. The men gathered in groups, chatting about the long winter, or challenging each other at the checker tables. A long line of men waited to compete in throwing horseshoes.

David Winters and his cornet band occupied a small platform, and their music floated over the crowd. At different times, gospel singers delivered heartfelt songs. Politicians and speakers addressed the crowd with local issues. Old timers sat in chairs, keeping time with the music, and listening to the speeches, while the entire community was alive with merriment and leisure activities.

Henry Winters met up with his friends, the Madison boys. Jasper, Edward, and William Madison now lived near Joplin on Shoal Creek. Everyone was happy to see the Madison family. After her husband’s death, Mary Jane Madison moved the family to Joplin, where the boys worked in the zinc and lead mines,

The women sat near the lilac bushes to discuss summertime activities. While they pieced quilts, the sweet scent from the bushes lulled their senses. Everyone listened intently to Mary Jane as she relayed the news and events about Joplin, forty-five miles north of Rocky Corners.

Christina was stitching on a square patch quilt. She said, “David’s Uncle Zimri lives in Joplin and owns a livery there. He tells David about the saloons and shenanigans in that town. I’m glad I live here in the hollers, away from all that sin!”

Mary Jane nodded, her oblong face wearing the usual expression of innocent wonder. “But we know there’s trouble in every town. One can get in a pickle just about anywhere."

Christina agreed with her friend. Blue eyes twinkled within a face that was round like a harvest moon. Her round eyeglasses had slid down her slight nose, and she pushed them up. Her right eyebrow arched slightly as if standing at attention. “I miss you, my friend, and we are so glad that the boys brought you down to the picnic today.”

“How’s Lizzie?” Mary Jane asked, looking at Nancy.

“She’s out of mourning, finally,” Nancy responded. “She had a dreadful time for a long while.”

“Our news is that finally, Henry's getting married to Olive Johnson!” Christina sat back in the chair and fanned her face with the decorated paperboard church fan.

A clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. Everyone came to attention and looked toward the sky. Thunderheads were forming to the west, a sign of an approaching thunderstorm. The wind picked up then, and lightning streaked the western sky.

Several of Christina’s daughters-in-law packed up their sewing equipment and left the circle to gather their children in preparation to go home.

David’s band stopped playing, and they took their instruments to their vehicles. David approached the women, wearing a severe look on his face. “Mother, we’d best be getting on home right away!"

Christina patted her friend’s arm. “Mary Jane, take care of yourself, and I wish you God Speed. If we can ever help you in any way, ask.” Tears gathered in her merry eyes, and she removed her spectacles to dab at them with her white embroidered hanky.

“Come visit me.” Mary Jane looked around at the other women in the circle and invited them to her home in Joplin.

At that moment, Lizzie approached with William Madison walking beside her and Henry and Olive behind.

“Mother!” Lizzie called. “Henry and William are taking Olive and me home.” With a beam on her face, Lizzie wiggled her fingers at the group of women. “Ta Ta.” Taking William’s arm, she almost skipped to the waiting wagon. 

William Madison half-turned, and his boyishly handsome face reddened with a blush. “I’ll be home later, Mama.”

“Mind the storms, William. Those clouds look like the storm could be bad.” Mary Jane waved goodbye.

As they made their way home, William Madison chattered about the zinc mines in Joplin. He described how the mining town grew every day. Joplin was classified as a city with fine hotels, banks, and businesses galore.

Olive felt dread as she listened to William make Joplin sound like a five-star city. But she knew it was not. When Henry asked about the wages in the town, the dread grew. She had a sneaky feeling that Henry would want to go—she just knew it.