Page 18 of Hope’s Enduring Echo
Etta
Claude limped from the bedroom, yawning. He crossed to the table and scowled at the skirt and needle in Etta’s hands. “Why’re you working on mending now? Shouldn’t you be getting supper started?”
Etta had decided to fix a late supper, knowing Jennie’s return would be delayed given her morning errand. She pushed the needle through the soft cotton, closing the L-shaped tear one of Rags’s claws caused when he jumped on her legs earlier that day. “I’m going to wait until Jennie’s home so it’ll be hot and fresh for her.”
He yanked out the chair next to Etta’s and plopped onto its seat. “If I eat much past six, I get indigestion. She’d best not be too late.”
Etta started to tell him that if he’d walked the line that day, she would have made sure his supper was hot and fresh, but she held the comment inside. If Leo was right about Claude suffering from an illness over which he had no control, she shouldn’t deliberately aggravate him.
“Well,” she said as she knotted the thread, “it will be worth waiting for, because I baked applesauce cake.” Jennie was particular fond of applesauce cake laden with raisins and chunks of walnuts, especially when served with sweet white sauce. The cake was already in the oven. She would make the sauce later.
Claude yawned again, rubbing his belly. “Wish you’d make pound cake.”
Etta glanced up. “Well, I suppose I could, but it’ll mean no eggs for breakfast for a couple days. Pound cake takes a lot of eggs, and we only have three chick—”
“And put some sliced strawberries on top.” Was he even listening to Etta? He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Haven’t had that in so long I’ve about forgot what it tastes like.” A frown of disgruntlement marred his face. “It’s summertime. Summertime means strawberries. It always has.”
Was he getting himself worked up? Etta’s anxiety rose a notch. She patted his hand, then rose and draped the mended apron over the back of her chair. “Now, Claude, you know how hard I tried to grow strawberries out here. The first three years, I brought out starts from Delia’s garden and planted them, remember? But we don’t get enough sun on our garden for them to take.”
Claude sent a brooding look toward the window.
“If you’re really hankering for a slice of pound cake with strawberries, we could take the train to town and visit the hotel dining room.” She watched his profile for signs of an impending outburst. “We could even go tomorrow if you wanted to.”
He worked his jaw back and forth as if working loose a seed from his tooth. “Can’t leave that dog unattended.”
Etta glanced at Rags sleeping soundly on a folded blanket next to the stove. With his paws folded under his chin and the white ear flopping over his eye toward his nose, he looked so sweet and innocent. If only she could shake the notion that he was storing up energy for further mischief. “Well, then, Saturday. Jennie would be here Saturday to keep an eye on him, if you’re worried about him.”
Claude snorted. “Not worried. Just saying he shouldn’t be left on his own. Not while he’s still a pup.”
She hid a smile. He was worried or he wouldn’t have said anything. The peek at her husband’s heart bolstered her spirits. “Then do you want to take a trip to Canon City on Saturday and have some strawberries and pound cake at the hotel?” She held her breath, warning herself not to get her hopes up. But he needed interaction with people. He needed to see something besides the view from the front window. He needed to—
“Reckon so.”
Her breath rushed out with such force spots danced behind her eyes. She blinked twice. Should she pinch herself? Maybe she was dreaming and wasn’t awake at all. “You…you want to go?”
He nodded—one unsteady bob of his head. “Probably need to pick up a few extra stores since you fed supper to four people instead of three all last week.” A sullen edge entered his tone.
Etta made her own voice happy and light to counterbalance it. “Oh, maybe some coffee, flour, and sugar, but that won’t cost much.” She eased close and smoothed the tufts of hair sticking out above his right ear. “It’ll be nice to ride the train with you and spend a little time in Canon City. Just the two of us, the way we did back when we first wed. Remember?”
He turned his face up to her. Something unreadable glimmered in his brown eyes. Did she see a spark of longing to live those days again? To be the man he was back then? He pushed up from the table and shuffled to the chair in front of the window. He settled in his usual spot and released a slow sigh. “Yeah,” he said.
His back was to her, but he’d answered. And he remembered. It was enough for now.
The scent of applesauce cake drew her to the stove, and she peeked inside. The domed top looked brown and ready. She protected her hands with a dish towel and removed the steaming cake from the oven, then set it on the windowsill to cool. As she inhaled the spicy aroma, she couldn’t keep a smile from forming. Jennie had been so sad all week. A big piece of her favorite cake should give her a lift.
“Keep an eye out for Jennie, Claude.” She chose a can of peas from the shelf, then rooted in the potato basket for several small potatoes. She tumbled a handful of them into a basin and reached for the pump. Then her hand stilled on the handle. How would Jennie react to her parents’ plan to visit Canon City by themselves? Would she be happy her daddy wanted to go to town, or would it sadden her to stay behind?
While Etta prepared the potatoes for boiling, she sent up a quick heartfelt prayer that her daughter would choose joy over disappointment.
Jennie
Jennie closed herself in her bedroom after supper. She’d not eaten much the past few days, too upset over Leo’s banishment to be hungry. But Mama’s applesauce cake with white sauce brought her appetite racing back. She’d eaten two pieces after a full plate of peas, potatoes, and ham chunks swimming in gravy. Her stomach ached from too much eating, but it was worth it. Her taste buds were still tingling with the flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg.
She retrieved a writing pad and pencil from a basket on the top of her dresser, then sat on the edge of the bed and balanced the pad on her lap. Leo’s letter, crumpled from being rolled and then shoved into her waistband beneath her shirt, lay next to her. Her gaze settled on the line “I hope to find a reply from you at the footbridge.”
Rolling the pencil between her fingers, she pondered how to reply. She’d never written a letter to a boy before. There was so much she wanted to say that it probably wouldn’t all fit on one page. But should she write it all down? What if someone else—his parents or one of his sisters—came upon it someday and read it? She would die of mortification to have her personal feelings for Leo exposed. And how would she leave a note for him now?
Her pulse tripped as she recalled Mama’s astounding announcement at suppertime that she and Daddy were going to Canon City on Saturday. Equally shocking, they wanted her to stay behind—to tend to chores and keep an eye on Rags. They’d not only let her go to town and do the shopping on her own at the beginning of the month, but now they trusted her to stay at the cabin alone. They must see her as close to grown. She couldn’t deny puffing up a bit at the news. And their leaving her alone cracked open a door of opportunity.
Since Mama and Daddy would meet the train at the footbridge, she couldn’t leave a letter there as Leo had requested. They’d see it, too, and it might send Daddy into another rage. But according to Leo’s letter, he would be out here on Saturday searching for dinosaur bones. With chores to do, she couldn’t run off and join him and the businessman he’d mentioned. But she could wave him down and give him the beetle-shell drawing. Steal a moment or two of his time. Long enough to once again bask in his warm smile, peer into his dark-blue eyes beneath the wide brim of his funny hat, and grasp one more memory to cherish.
Of course, she might look like a real ninny to the other man if she let herself get caught up in staring into Leo’s face. She’d better hand off the envelope and depart. But she would put a note in the envelope.
With worry about someone else possibly reading the missive rolling in the back of her mind, she chose her words carefully.
Dear Leo,
Here is the drawing of the beetle you found embedded in volcanic rock on the rise west of my cabin. Thank you for the gift of the sketch pad so I could record it for you.
Good luck finding other fossils in the mountains near the pipeline.
Your friend,
Jennie
She read what she’d written, satisfied with her penmanship but disappointed in how impersonal it sounded. Particularly when compared to what he’d written her. She slid the note and drawing into the envelope and put it on her dresser underneath her writing pad. Then she settled against her pillows and read Leo’s letter again. And again. And again. Until she’d memorized one small section.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “?‘I miss our daily talks. But though I do not see you daily, I think of you and pray for you.’?” His words on paper were the words in her heart.
Then the next line from the letter played in her mind’s eye. I pray especially that your daddy will find complete healing and that you will cling to hope and not harbor bitterness.
She opened her eyes, and unexpectedly a warm tear rolled down her cheek. She whisked it away with the back of her hand, then pulled herself out of bed. She knelt and folded her hands, the way her parents had taught her to humble herself before God. Did Daddy ever kneel and pray? She didn’t know if his leg would allow it even if his soul desired to do so. But whether he did or not, she needed to.
On her knees, head bowed, fingers clasped so tightly they ached, she begged God to honor Leo’s and Mama’s and her prayers for Daddy to find complete healing. She begged for the ability to keep hoping for change even when it seemed impossible that he’d change. And as tears sneaked from beneath her closed eyelids, she pleaded for God to root all hints of bitterness from her soul. Then, nearly spent, she made one more plea.
“Please change Daddy’s mind about my spending time with Leo again so I can tell him how much his friendship meant to me. Thank You, God. Amen.”
She folded the letter from Leo, tucked it in the back of her Bible, then slid between the sheets of her bed. She’d spent several restless nights in a row, but that night, Jennie slept like a log and awakened refreshed. She ate applesauce cake for breakfast on Friday morning and then set off for her route with a bounce in her step.
It must have sprinkled during the night, because the grass was more than dew wet. She reminded herself to be cautious on the pipe, as the wood would be slick until the moisture dried. It would have to happen by evaporation because the sun wouldn’t touch the pipe until nearly noon. By midmorning, she’d ceased worrying about sliding on the pipeline’s surface. She’d also paused and admired a particularly fluffy bank of clouds way in the east, watched a mud turtle’s laborious journey along the rocky edge of the river, and blinked into the full sunlight cresting Pikes Peak. Each short acknowledgment of her surroundings made her heart feel lighter, more joyful.
She marveled at the shift in her spirit, so unlike the middle of the week when bitter sorrow weighted every step. What brought the change? She would still finish the complete route alone. She wouldn’t wander the hills with Leo when her duties were done. Today was no different than Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday in those regards, yet she was enjoying herself again. Why?
A vibration traveled from the pipeline through the soles of her boots and up her frame. She angled herself on the pipe and faced the passing cars. She waved both hands over her head and smiled at the engineer, the passengers peering out the windows, and finally Mr. Jenkins, who held a blue handkerchief out the caboose window like a flag and winked at her. As the locomotive rolled out of sight, she resumed her inspection and her introspection.
Were her spirits better today because she’d gotten a solid night of sleep? Mama always said sleep was good for what ailed a person. Or did her joy stem from Daddy choosing to go to town for the first time in over a year? His decision wasn’t comparable to miracles in the Bible, but it felt somewhat miraculous to Jennie. Or was it because she would likely see Leo, if only from a distance, tomorrow? Probably a combination of all three.
Whatever the reasons, she gloried that her tumultuous emotions had swung in a more cheerful direction. She tossed a smile and a whispered “Thank You” heavenward, then continued her route with a happy heart.