THE PATH TO A PROMISE CHAPTERS 8 AND 9

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Henry drove the buggy toward Lizzie's farm as the storm rumbled behind them. As he guided the horses around a sharp turn, he listened to William, but trying to outrun the storm and keep them all safe was uppermost on his mind.

Lizzie’s voice twittered like a bluebird in spring. She had a sunny disposition and talked with anyone about anything. Her smile was as bright as a summer morning. “Tell us more about Joplin! I’ve never been that far away. Are there electric lights there? Are the streets full of traffic? Where do Mary Jane and your sisters shop?”

William chuckled at her questions. “Joplin is a fine big city with newfangled electric lighting. If you want to have fun, Joplin’s the place for it! We take the streetcar to the Crystal Cave right there in town! People can take a tour or dance on a big dance floor in the third chamber of the Cave. And at the Club Theatre, you can see a Vaudeville show. Have you tasted the new Coca-Cola yet? My, it’ll wet your whistle!”

He looked at Lizzie, his voice soft and charming, and whispered in her ear, “Your eyes are round as the moon on a warm summer night." He quickly continued, "They’re opening the Electric Park soon. That’s the place to have a good time! They plan to offer music in the park, singing shows, a merry-go-round, and a Ferris wheel. People picnic there.” He took a breath, “Mother and the girls shop at Christman’s Dry Goods. Joplin’s even got a fire and a police station!”

“It sounds like fun, fun, fun!” Lizzie squealed. Clara Mae wiggled on her lap but stayed asleep. Lizzie clutched the child as the buggy jolted over the road, splashing mud along the way.

Henry spoke up. “Uncle Zim says it’s a den for trouble with saloons on every corner. That gets Pa and everybody at church worked up, and Preacher Akehurst starts preaching temperance!”

William agreed. “If you want trouble, you can find it in Joplin. But we can find trouble in the hills and hollers! Pine Hills and Rocky Corners are known for all kinds of troubles with drinking and fighting. Joplin’s just a bigger place, that’s all.” He laughed again and looked at Lizzie, who listened to every word he said.

“Trouble. We don’t need any more of it!” Olive cried out. Her face was drawn and pinched as she sat straight on the buggy seat, holding hard to Henry’s arm.

“Watch it, Ellie. You’re about to pull my arm off!” Henry released her grip, as he spurred the horse onward.

“Now, Sister,” Lizzie admonished. “Didn’t you hear what William just said? There’s trouble everywhere you go! And don't we know it since Joe Tanner shot my husband!"

The buggy bounced into a hole in the road and lurched to the right. Olive slammed into Henry and she held tight to his arm.

“Joplin’s not as bad as Baxter Springs, Kansas. That cow town is full of rough and ready fighters, especially on a Saturday night. But Joplin is what you want it to be. If you want fun, you can find it. If you want trouble, you can get it. If you need a job, you can get one. Why don’t you come up to visit, Henry? Have a look around, you might like it. And I can guarantee you’ll get a job in no time. The mines hire every day. ‘Sides, Mother would love for you to stay with us for a while.”

“I might just do that,” Henry answered. Glancing at Olive, he smirked and quickly added. “I’ll have to think about it. I’ve been looking for a good job!”

Olive curled her lip as she thought about the stories of the mines and the dangerous jobs the miners performed. She asked, “Yes, but William, how safe is it? Going down into the ground to work must be dangerous!” She shivered at the thought just as thunder rolled again.

William laughed. “It’s as safe as driving this buggy down a steep hill, Olive.”

Olive drew a sharp breath. “What?”

Henry was quick to explain that William meant anyone could be killed doing anything at any time. When it was a person’s time to go, nothing would stop death. “I don’t plan to go to work in the mines, so stop worrying, Olive.”

A clap of thunder shook the sky. Was it a warning of things to come?

 

***

When they reached Lizzie’s farm, William carried Clara Mae into the house, and Lizzie trailed behind through the pouring rain. Olive sat still on the buggy seat. Her face was sober, and she picked at a string from her wet dress.

“You going in or sitting here in the storm?” Henry asked.

She said nothing, just hunched her shoulders. “I don’t want you to go to Joplin.” She did not look at him. Fear seized her heart, and she wanted to cry but batted the tears away. She worried about things that had not even taken place.

Henry chuckled when he saw her face. She looked like an angel who had fallen and scraped her knee on Heaven’s golden sidewalks. He wanted to gather her in his arms, hold her tight, and wipe away the fear on her face. He made his move. He leaned to her, pulling her close, and held her tight against his chest.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to," he whispered into her dark hair.

She whispered back, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. While we’re sitting here, when do you want to get married? I don’t want to wait much longer.”

The rain continued to fall, but the lightning had stopped. Now and then, a groan of thunder broke the quiet. The tree limbs were heavy and dripping with water.

“We can't get married yet; the cabin's not done." Her words were void of emotion.

He scratched his head, his face wrinkling with thought. “I’m working on it, but it takes time and money! If we have to, we can stay with Mama and Dad until it's finished. " He changed the subject. “What about getting married in the fall? September’s a good month."

She thought about it, her shoulders held at attention, her neck long and thin. Her fourteenth birthday was the month before; her parents would have to give permission for her to marry Henry. Would they? Her mind was whirling with thoughts of a wedding. She remembered Lizzie and Daniel’s wedding was a nice affair at the schoolhouse. After their wedding that night, sometime around midnight, family and friends gathered to give them a chivari. Oh, the noise they made, banging on pots and pans! David Winters’ band played "When the Saints Go Marching In." Everyone had a gay time playing pranks on the newlyweds.

“I think September will do,” she relented.

He nodded. “I’ll get the cabin built by then, I promise."

Olive pulled away, an odd expression marking her face.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned.

“Someone is standing in the way,” she said, “and he stands six feet tall with a long droopy mustache.”

Henry’s shoulders drooped in defeat. “You’re not eighteen; we have to ask your father’s permission.”

***

That night, when the house was quiet, and Henry and William had gone, Olive and Lizzie talked. The storm had left a chill in the house, and Lizzie had a nice fire in the fireplace. The warmth spread throughout the house. Lizzie sat in the wicker rocker, holding Clara Mae. The child was asleep, but Lizzie had not put her to bed yet.

“Henry and I want to get married in September. But…” Olive frowned. “We have to tell Mama and Papa.” Dread filled her belly, and she sighed. It was another hurdle to get over. Why did love have to be so complicated?

Lizzie laughed. “You worry too much, Sister! Remember, Mama had to sign for me to marry Dan.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Course they thought there was a baby on the way.”

“I remember the hushed conversations,” Olive nodded.

“People judge others by such harsh circumstances. When you want to marry a man, many think you are in the family way. Never mind that love may be the real reason!” She rolled her eyes and waved her hands through the air.

“Have you thought of marrying again?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I haven’t entertained the idea until now, I think of Dan a lot.”

“Even when William escorted you home?”

Olive noted the blush on Lizzie’s cheeks. “He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“I think William Madison’s more than handsome; he’s as cute as a bug’s ear!” Olive rolled her eyes and lay back against the padded chair. “We’ve known the family a long time. And Mary Jane’s a wonderful woman. She’d make a good mother-in-law."

“He told me more about the city. That’s where St. John’s Hospital is, and I can get medical care for my back."

Olive’s face changed at the mention of Joplin. The rumors about the big city terrified her, and she wanted no part of it. The hills and hollows of Rocky Corners were home. She had no desire to see the lights of Joplin.

Lizzie continued, happily animated. “If my back continues to give me fits, the hospital is close to their house. Several doctors and nurses practice good medicine, of course.” Her eyes brightened. " William told me there’s so much to do in the city and that it’s nothing like down here in this forlorn place.”

“Lizzie! You love our hills!” Olive admonished her.

“It’s getting tiresome living here on this old farm! William invited me to visit them, and I promised I’d go.” She looked sharply at Olive, waiting for her outburst, which was sure to come.

Olive kept her calm and thought about what she should say. After all, it was her sister's decision, and she didn't walk in Lizzie’s shoes. Her poor sister had lost her husband to murder and was raising a child. Olive didn’t know the first thing about heartache and loss. How could she condemn her sister when she didn’t understand her feelings?

“You should go,” Olive said quietly. She saw the surprise in Lizzie’s eyes, and she smiled. “See Joplin firsthand. Experience big-city life and get the needed treatments for your back.”

Lizzie’s smile faded away. “I was going to wait to tell you… I told William I'd go for a visit as soon as I got the money for a train ticket, but he gave me the money. Mary Jane told me I was welcome, and I'll get to see Lydia!”

Clara Mae whined and fussed against her mother.

“It’s time to put her to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She struggled to get off the sofa. Grabbing her lower back, she grimaced.

Olive lifted Clara Mae and carried her to the bedroom. “She’s getting heavy,” Lizzie complained, padding to the bed.

Olive did not go to bed right away. Instead, she sat in the chair by the fire, staring into the fireplace at the glow of the wood coals in the firebox. Thoughts of the day’s activities whirled in her mind. She was happy to see the Madison family again. It had been months since they sold their farm in the hills and moved to the city. Mary Jane was as spry and happy as she always was.

Now that she and Herny agreed to get married in September, the next step was to tell her folks. Her chest tightened with dread. Just telling Pa that she wanted Henry Winters to court her raised a ruckus. What would he do when he found out they intended to marry?

 

CHAPTER NINE

At noontime, Nancy and Bud Johnson sat at their long kitchen table laden with brown beans with ham, zucchini squash, and yellow cornbread. When Olive and Henry arrived, they sat beside each other as Bud talked about the morning at the logging camp. “Old Gray is just about to give out. I’ve got to find another mule before he does.” Eyeing Henry, he asked, “Does your Uncle Zimri have any quality mules for sale?”

Henry chewed on a forkful of beans and almost choked when Bud gave him the eye. He coughed and swallowed, taking a drink to help wash it down. “I'll ask Father.”

Bud gave a slight nod. “Good mules sell fast.”

Olive put her fork down and looked at her mother's bird-like face, drawn with the lines deepening with pain. She worked long and hard through the years and now bore the brunt of pain and suffering. Her long black hair, parted in the middle, was coiled into a tight knot at the back of her neck. Although her face portrayed the look of someone angry, her personality was just the opposite. No woman was meeker and milder than Nancy. Even though her bodily features were stark and harsh, her spirit was sweet. “We’ve come to talk to you about something that’s important.”

Her parents stopped eating and looked at her. Olive’s heart thumped so loud that she just knew they all could hear it—and worse, maybe they saw it chugging in her chest. She sat frozen in the chair and couldn’t squeak out a word.

“Well, what is it?” Nancy's head bent slightly, looking at her daughter.

Olive managed to look at Henry, but she immediately knew he would be of no help. He looked like he’d just stepped in front of a bobcat. She was on her own. “Well,” her tongue moistened her lips. “We want to get married in September.” Olive’s body tensed like a fish waiting for a turtle to snap it up. Instead, the silence was intense and disturbing.

Nancy's eyes bore into her husband like a hawk pouncing on a mouse. Her dark eyes looked like the intense Missouri thunderstorms that gathered in the west. Her mouth set in a grim expression. “I knew it was a bad idea for you to allow him to court our daughter.” The words hung in the air like a loaded gun.

Bud shot back. “We talked about this, and you know what we decided. Now you’re turning the tables and blaming me?”

“I am.” Nancy's head bobbed up and down.

“You know what she would have done if we hadn’t allowed them to see each other!” His voice rose.

Olive saw Henry’s face turn red like his mother’s Sunday bonnet as he looked down at the flowered tablecloth. She stood up, hands dropped to her sides. “You’re talking as if we’re not here!”

Nancy raised her right hand to her mouth and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“When you asked us to let you court Henry," Bud cleared his throat. “We didn’t want you seeing any boy. But we know about the birds and the bees, so we agreed. As we’ve watched you two, we realized it made you happy."

“And we know marriage is coming next,” Nancy intervened. “We went through the same thing with my mama. When I met Bud, we went to mama and asked her blessing on us getting married.”

“Whooee!” Bud thundered, “Did that ever cause a stink!” He laughed and slapped his bony knee. He stood up and left the table to hack and spit.

“Mama called him every name in the book and forbade us to see one another.”

“Do you think that stopped us?” Bud asked, returning to the table. A mischievous grin ran across his face.

“Well, you’re married, so it didn’t,” Olive spoke up. Suddenly, hope bloomed in her heart. A warm feeling spread through her. Her life was changing forever on this day.

“I threatened to run away and never see her again! I was mean and called her names that now I'm ashamed of. When she admitted that she didn't want to be left alone, we compromised. If she'd give consent to the marriage, she could live with us. We got married and it took Mama a while to simmer down. Later she admitted she liked Bud,” Nancy’s voice was soft, and a smile lit her eyes with contentment and gratitude.

Bud nodded. “We became good friends. Your grandma was a forgiving woman."

“That's why Grandma lived with us?” Olive asked, understanding written on her face.

Nancy nodded. “I couldn’t leave her alone. And Bud was kind enough to welcome her into our home. We’re telling you this because we'll consent to you marrying Henry if he’s the man you think you can live with for the rest of your life.”

Olive’s eyes widened as she inhaled a breath. She looked at Henry, saw his expression, and laughed. He looked like he was about to either throw up or faint.

Henry drew a breath. The moment arrived. If they allowed him to marry her, his land was his! Guilt bubbled up next to his elation. Was he going through with this? He had to! No doubt about it! Ignoring the misgivings and holding out his hand to Bud, he replied, “Thank you for your blessing.”

Bud eyed them both, holding up his hands. “Just hold on, we’ve got more to say to you two. This is serious business. Marriage is a sacred vow between two people. Your mother and I don’t take it lightly. Where will you live? How will you feed your family? What if one of you gets sick?”

Henry plunked into his chair, clearing his throat. “Well…Father and Mother gave me ten acres over by the bluff above their place. I’ve started building a house. Father told me that Uncle Cornelius over in Bartlett County has lots of connections for jobs. I’ll go over and talk to Uncle about it. And, well, if we get sick, we’ll take care of one another!” He looked at Olive, questions ripe in his eyes. Had he given the right answers to her father's inquiry? "William Madison told us that the Joplin mines are hiring daily. Joplin has jobs a plenty up there.”

Olive sucked in her breath and glared at him. He couldn’t talk about going to Joplin! Taking a drink, she held her tongue and allowed Henry to finish.

Bud nodded, his mustache bobbing with the motion. “Sounds like you’re making some good, solid plans, Son. Glad to hear it.”

“Have you set a time to get married?” Nancy asked.

“September,” Olive answered.

“Gives you four months to build a house,” Bud said, caution lacing the words.

“By September, we should be ready.” Henry was confident.

Olive finished her meal as her father and Henry talked about the mules. Now that the marriage issue was settled, a heaviness swept through her. Wasn't she supposed to be ecstatic? Thrilled? She didn't feel it. Instead, her heartbeat continued to raise a ruckus. She was marrying the most handsome man in all of Brooming County. She knew the hesitation was due to her wish for a career. To go to school and do something with her life. She pushed the anguish away. She would get married, go to college, and find a job. It would give them a chance to find financial freedom. One thing was sure: her life would forever change.

***

Throughout the summer, Henry worked on the house when he wasn't busy with odd jobs. One day, despite his promise to Olive, he left early in the morning and traveled to Redings Mill, south of Joplin, to visit the Madison family. There he saw mining companies in operation. He stayed a week, and each evening, when he and William came home, their clothing was covered in grime. Mary Jane stopped them at the door, promptly taking a corn broom to their clothing, trying to remove as much dirt and dust as possible.

The grit and grime certainly did not appeal to Henry. He realized that William worked hard as a jig man, operating the jig that pulled the ore from the mine shaft. All day long, William worked the heavy contraption. The horror stories he told of mines collapsing or miners losing a body part due to clumsiness on the job struck fear inside Henry. The mining life was not for him. He returned home, content with what he had always been doing.

When Henry went to Joplin, Olive protested, but he quickly reminded her he needed a job. When Olive talked to Lizzie about it, Lizzie advised her not to quarrel because he wanted to spend time with friends and, more than that, to better himself by looking at job prospects. Olive accepted her advice, even though she did not like it.

While Henry was away, wedding plans were made for Sunday afternoon, September 5. After church services, Reverend Akehurst would marry the couple. Olive asked Lizzie to be her witness, and William Madison would stand beside Henry during the ceremony. Both parties accepted the honor of helping the couple complete their wedding details.

On an August morning, Nancy drove to Lizzie’s farm. Tying the horse to the rail fence, she lifted an old trunk from the wagon bed. Olive helped her mother place the trunk on the living room rug. Olive, Lizzie, and little Clara Mae gathered beside the older woman as she lifted the lid. Musty smells rose from the trunk, but their eyes were on the contents. Nancy brought out a cream wedding dress, unfolding it to its length.

Clara Mae’s eyes grew round as the moon. She clapped her chubby hands and cried, “Dreth.”

Lizzie smiled. “Yes, Aunt Olive’s getting married.” It was the wedding dress Lizzie had worn when she married Daniel Winters.

Olive sucked in a breath as she touched the cream delight. The gown’s bodice was damask with an overlay of lace covering the cotton full skirt. A cream ribbon secured the high neck, and lace sleeves plunged to the wrists of the sleeves. Covered buttons fell in a row down the back of the dress.

Nancy’s eyes misted as she touched the dress and told the story behind it. “It was originally made for my great-grandmother, who sailed from Scotland. It's been in the family all these years. Mama wanted me to wear it when I married your father, but I was too short. That’s why Lizzie wore it; she’s tall like my mother was. Now you will wear it, Olive Francis."

Olive and the dress disappeared into the bedroom. It was like a dream come true to wear a beautiful gown. Lizzie hurried after her and helped her button it. The dress fit just right. Olive walked to the living room to her mother. She turned this way and that, a smile tipping her lips as the softness swished against her bare legs.

Lizzie clapped her hands. “I’ll clean it, Mother, and freshen it up.”

Nancy lifted another piece from the trunk. “Here’s the veil. It's a bit mashed up, you might not want to wear it.” She brushed Olive’s dark hair into a sweeping coif and placed the mesh atop her curls.

Clara Mae laughed at the sight. Clapping her chubby hands, she twirled and mimicked her aunt. She dropped on her bottom and puckered up. When the women laughed, she laughed with them, gathering herself upright to do it again.

“I truly feel beautiful,” Olive said, running her long fingers over the lace.

“You’ll need flowers.”

“Let’s cut flowers from the garden,” Olive announced.

Nancy said. “Okay, I'll fix your bouquet the morning of the wedding, so they’ll be fresh.”

Just then, the front door opened, and Henry strode inside. He had arrived home the night before. Calling out, “Hello, ladies! I got back last night!” he appeared in the living room, a wide grin covering his face.

“Oh my!” Olive tried to move before he saw her in the gown.

“Get out! Go! Shooo!” Lizzie let out a whoop that rattled the rafters.

“Yes, get out, get out!” Nancy moved to help hide Olive and the dress.

Henry stood like a soldier, watching the scene unfold as a white blur left the room. “What’s the shouting about?” he declared, looking at them.

Olive’s wails frightened Clara Mae. The child's face grew red and puckered like a prune, and then the screams started.

Lizzie spun and headed toward Henry, her arms waving frantically and almost knocking him down. “You can’t be here! It’s bad luck, now go!”

Laughing, Henry replied, “I didn’t know my appearance was that scary!” Then he realized what was happening. The white blur was Olive! "I didn't see a thing!" He ducked his head, holding up his hands, he backed out of the room and went out the front door.

Lizzie slammed the door and put a hand to her heaving chest. “He’s out.” She picked up the baby and consoled her.

“But it’s too late! He saw me in the dress,” Olive shrieked from the bedroom. She came out with a frown, sputtering about bad luck and being jinxed.

“There, there, dear,” Nancy consoled Olive. “You know it’s just superstition.”

"Then why were you telling him to get out?" Olive’s tears fell harder than a rainstorm in the middle of a summer day. Nothing would appease her.

Lizzie laughed. “The way we were yelling at the poor man, it’s a wonder he didn’t drop dead with fright!”

“That’s the truth!” Nancy let out a chuckle. “He looked like a bear was attacking him!”

“I’m getting back to the farm.” Nancy folded the dress, placed it in the trunk, and said goodbye.

Olive said nothing more about her fears, but a cold shiver sliced through her. This was a sign.

Henry had jinxed their marriage.

 

THE PATH TO A PROMISE CHAPTER 5

 

CHAPTER FIVE

Henry led Olive past the outhouse, beyond a grove of bare trees thick with dense sumac, brambles, and cedars. Their footsteps crackled and snapped through the leaf-strewn path as they circled and stopped at the woodshed, hidden from view.

“The wind isn’t quite so strong here,” he said, holding onto her hand. For days, he rehearsed what he wanted to tell her. Now standing before her, his senses fell away, leaving him like a helpless fool. This was the moment, and he had to make it count.

Olive stood still, breathing deeply as her heart fluttered from the escapade. Her rosy cheeks were plump and cold, and she held her hands behind her back. Her hair, pulled into two braids, fell over slim shoulders. A woolen cap covered the top of her head, and a jeweled pin held it in place. A long brown coat covered her dress, and cotton stockings plunged into sturdy black boots.

“I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?” The warmth of his smile echoed in his words as his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

They stood just inches apart, leaning against the side of the old shed. The building blocked the sunshine, and there, in the shade, the temperature was a tad cooler. Their breaths came out like little puffs. The wind picked up and shook the trees as if a reminder that their rendezvous was in jeopardy.

Smiling back at Henry, Olive’s shy voice lilted. “Yes…”

Henry chuckled and hugged her to his warm chest. They stood in the embrace for moments, both quiet. He pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Olive, there’s something I want to say.” He stopped, looking into her perfectly round face with those large doe-brown eyes and shining cheeks.

She searched his handsome face. “What is it?”

He swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Ducking his head, he chuckled and slapped his knee with his gloved hand. “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

Her brown eyes lit with curiosity as her brows raised high. “Henry, you better hurry 'cause if Mama and Papa miss me, they’ll have a hissy fit!”

He gathered a breath and pushed the words out at her. “I know how you feel about me, and I feel the same about you!” Once he said the words, a thrill shot clean through him, and he felt his face heat like it might burst into flames at that moment. Relief made his knees want to buckle, but he stood straight. “Pearl told me what happened with your folks. Lizzie didn’t mean to get us in trouble. But it's okay; I’d get in trouble for you anytime.” His words rushed out like a locomotive at full speed.

As quick as lightning strikes a tree, he bent his head, and their lips touched in a light kiss. Pulling her to him, he kissed her again and then squeezed her hard. He broke away, and his words tumbled out. “I want to marry you.”

All she could say when she opened her mouth was, “Oh.” Sucking in breath, she plunged her hands into her coat pockets

Henry cackled with laughter. “Is that all you have to say, Olive Johnson?” Dark eyes danced merrily with humor at the look on her innocent face. “You beat all I’ve ever seen!” He planted a sweet, warm kiss firmly on her forehead. "Will you marry me?"

"I don't know…" Olive answered. "I've been thinking about you a lot."

Leaning against the woodshed, Henry pushed his hat off his forehead and scratched his ear. “Then we need to start courtin'!”

But before she answered, Bud Johnson stepped into view. With a strained face and a strong voice, he questioned, “Daughter, what’s going on here?”

“Pa!” Olive’s voice rang with dread. Her slight body shook as she tried to steady herself and meet her father’s fiery eyes. Clutching the building, she swayed, and her belly rolled. She was going to retch right here in front of Henry! How much had her father heard? More than that, what had he seen? She had just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. Pa might even get the hickory switch after her backside when they got home. Hot tears sprang to her eyes; she gulped back a string of explanations. She looked at Henry, who looked like he was confronting a grizzly bear.

Henry pushed out the words, “Mr. Johnson, we want to start courtin' with your blessing."

Bud’s cold gray eyes bore into the younger man. “I forbid it.” The statement was a snarl. His hands clenched into shaky fists.

Henry stood erect, looking at Bud. “We both like each other!"

Bud’s right eyebrow lifted in a face that looked like Carthage marble. “That right, Child?” He glanced at Olive.

Olive inched closer to her father. Her knees wobbled when she raised her chin. She willed herself not to cry and pushed the fear aside. This was her one moment when she could either make a mess of everything or try to reach her pa and make him see reason. No longer would she be a ninny.

“Henry’s telling you the truth.”

She watched Bud's left eye twitch and his shoulders sag. Hope fluttered in her chest. Relief swelled in her heart. What was he going to say?

Olive licked her cold lips and took hold of his arm. “I’m apologizing, Papa. I should have asked if I could talk with Henry instead of sneaking off.” Hot tears gathered in her eyes again, and she tried to blink them back. But it didn’t stop them. Instead, they rolled down her reddened cheeks, betraying her feelings. She stood like a soldier before her father, but her legs felt like Ma’s homemade egg noodles drying on the counter.

Henry extended his hand. “And I’m sincerely sorry. I never want to get Olive in trouble.”

Bud’s brow pushed higher, his face grew sterner, and he ignored the two standing before him. Children’s merry shouts and laughter echoed down the valley. Olive and Henry were antsy. His daughter trembled, probably from fright more than the chilly air. Looking at her and then to Henry, he sighed. “I’ll accept both your apologies.” He took Henry's hand in his and shook.

Henry smiled back, pumping his arm up and down in nervous abandonment. “Thank you, sir!”

“Thank you, Pa!” Happiness skittered across Olive’s cold face and bloomed through her brown eyes.

Bud announced, "Time to go.” Taking Olive by the arm, he took a step, but like a lightning strike, he turned to Henry and invited him to sit with them at church the following Sunday.

Henry's heartbeat like his father’s bass drum. “I’ll try to make it every Sunday, Mr. Johnson. I care about Olive, and she cares for me. I’m asking your permission to come courting next week.” He dared to glance at Olive. She looked like she’d swallowed her mother’s canary. With a heart full of courage, he continued, “May I drive her home today?”

Bud nodded his head, his long mustache bobbing. “That’ll be fine.”

Henry nodded with relief. “Thank you, sir.” He wanted to whoop, holler, and dance around the woodshed but held it back. Instead, he looked Bud square in the eye.

Bud harrumphed and scratched his hairy chin. “Don’t tarry, you hear?” He let go of his daughter’s arm and said to her, “Your mama and I will talk to you when you get to the house.” He turned and tromped through the brush back to the church.

***

Besides relenting and allowing Henry to court Olive, Bud and Nancy let Olive return to Lizzie’s farm, and Pearl went home. Once again, Olive and Lizzie were back together. Things had returned to the way they were before all the problems started. Clara Mae was happy to see her Aunt Olive and would not leave her alone, begging to be held or played with.

On the night of December 15, Brooming County received its first snowfall of the season. The evening began with gentle rain tapping against the windowpanes, but as the temperature dipped, the raindrops transformed into delicate snowflakes, drifting silently to the ground. By morning, a glistening coat of snow frosted the fences, trees, and fields, creating a world of shimmering white. The snow carried the promise of Christmas as folks hurried to finalize their holiday plans, their hearts warmed by the season's quiet beauty.

Olive stitched Christmas gifts for her family. A new Sunday vest for Ben, a red cape for Pearl, and an embroidered set of handkerchiefs for Lizzie and her mother. Amid her projects, she was quilting a warm lap throw for Henry. On one of the trips to Rocky Corners to Milligan’s Millinery, she found a child’s dress pattern in an old Godey’s Book. Taking Clara Mae's measurements, she drew a pattern on paper, fashioning it from memory. Using the material of a pink gingham day dress, she stitched a dress. Clara Mae would look like a pink angel.

Lizzie returned from gathering the eggs, stomping her work boots on the welcome mat by the door. She told Olive, “There’s more than a skiff of snow in places out there. I had to pull hard to get the chicken house door open.”

Hanging her hat and coat on the peg by the door, she went to the warm living room. She heard a noise in the kitchen and looked to see Clara Mae sitting in her highchair at the table, finishing scrambled eggs and a glass of milk.

Olive held up the pink cloud of a dress. “It’s almost done. What do you think?”

Lizzie clapped her hands. “Oh, it’s lovely! And she’ll look pretty, Sister! I wish I were out of this dreadful black widow’s suit! It’s boring. I want to wear colors again!” She placed Clara Mae on the floor. “Two years is a long time to wear something that makes you look like an old dirty sock!”

“You’ll be out of mourning soon, Lizzie." Olive’s curiosity got the best of her. “Do you still miss Dan?” She watched her sister's face change, and the brightness disappeared.

Lizzie nodded. “I miss him every day, especially at night when he doesn’t walk through that door. The pain of his death washes over me just as much as it did the first time Pa came to tell me he’d been shot.”

“I’m sorry,” Olive whispered. She should not have said anything about it.

“No, don’t be.” Lizzie sniffed, then drank from her water glass. “I’m getting better at dealing with it. I’m just learning how to face reality and move ahead. I have to. I have her to think about.” She lifted her daughter out of the chair and placed her on the red braided rug so she could play with a set of wooden alphabet blocks.

“Do you think you’ll ever marry again?”

Her sister’s eyes grew round at the question. “I’ve not thought about it.”

Olive smiled at her sister. “Let’s think about the Christmas tree festival in Rocky Corners.”

“Yes, we can take Clara Mae to see Santa Claus.” Lizzie’s face brightened as she finished her breakfast.

As the days grew shorter and the skies darkened earlier, the approach of Christmas Day filled the town with a mixture of anticipation and warmth. Everyone in Rocky Corners busied themselves with preparations for the holiday celebration. At the downtown crossroads near the old artesian well, the townsfolk erected a towering cedar tree, its fresh, piney scent mingling with the crisp winter air. The tree stood tall and proud, adorned with shimmering tinsel, popcorn strings, glittering tin stars, delicate wooden crèches, and small red bows.

Generosity overflowed as townspeople donated extra items from their shops—colorful ribbons, jars of preserves, and handmade trinkets. The women filled their kitchen with the savory aroma of roasting turkeys and hams, and the scent sweet treats made with cinnamon, cloves, and sugar wafted from ovens. The air buzzed with excitement, especially among the children, who eagerly awaited Santa Claus' arrival with his sled pulled by magical reindeer.

The community spirit extended into the evenings, as the town's churches hosted nightly gatherings, filling the air with hymns and Christmas carols. The sounds of David Winters' brass band echoed through the streets, their lively tunes adding a cheerful rhythm to the holiday festivities. The music accompanied every gathering, from the church socials to the lively holiday parties, binding the town together in a shared celebration of the season.

By the afternoon of December 23, a cold wind blew in from the west, and the temperatures plummeted with each hour. Looking out the window at the swaying trees, Olive thought it could easily snow again. Gray clouds gathered in a darkening sky—snow clouds. She noticed a flock of Canada geese moving south—another winter sign.

Olive watched as Lizzie hurried toward the house from the barn. A horse and rider moved toward her. Henry rode hard, slapping the reins against the horse’s flanks. He pulled up short and fell to the ground, talking to Lizzie. His words came out in puffs of icy chill. Olive watched Lizzie’s face turn from smiling to frowning. Covering her eyes with her hands, she shook her dark head. Henry took her by the shoulders, and they moved toward the house.

When Olive opened the door, it felt like her heart would fall from her chest. Something was wrong! The two came inside. Lizzie was shivering, crying repeatedly, “No, no, it can’t be!”

Henry was trying to calm her. Looking at Olive, his stormy, tear-filled eyes held hers momentarily before he spoke. “My brother died this morning.”

 

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!”