Page 7 of Hope’s Enduring Echo
Etta
With the dishes washed, dried, and back on the shelf, Etta’s lunch chores were done. She glanced at the mantel clock. Still a half hour until the train would round the bend. She had fifteen minutes before she needed to start her trek to the bridge with their hand wagon. Fifteen minutes to convince Claude to get up out of his chair and walk with her.
She crossed to him, fixing a smile on her face as she went. “It’s a pretty day. Hardly any wind at all.” He often complained the wind made him unsteady. “And the pathway is dry since we’ve not had rain in two weeks.” He also fussed about wet and slippery ground. He couldn’t use that excuse today. “So why not put on your shoes and hat and accompany me to the bridge? What a fun surprise it would be for Jennie to find both of us waiting for her when she arrives with our goods.”
Claude slowly turned from the window and gaped at her. “It’s a good quarter mile down to that bridge, Etta. I can barely make it to the outhouse and back, and you want me to walk all the way to the bridge? You’d end up toting me in the wagon instead of the goods.”
“Now, Claude…” Etta placed her hand on his shoulder and gentled her voice. “Remember what the doctor told you when he came out? Your leg’s all healed up. Yes, it’s shorter than it was before, but it still works. The fact that you can get yourself up and around and to the outhouse proves it. But you have to exercise it to regain full strength. A walk to the bridge and back would be good exercise.” She rubbed a circle on his shoulder, trying to relax the tense muscles. “A few walks like that and pretty soon you’ll be ready to walk the—”
He shrugged her hand away and aimed his gaze out the window again. “Don’t say pipeline. I won’t ever be able to climb up on that pipe and walk its length. There’s no sense thinking about it.”
Oh, he was stubborn. But it was despondence talking. The Claude she’d known before his fall was buried somewhere inside this surly, defeated shell. If only she knew how to draw him out again. She sent up a silent prayer for guidance and opened her mouth. She surprised herself by saying, “All right, then. I’ll go by myself.”
She fetched the wagon from the shed attached to the small chicken coop and set off slowly down the hill, silently berating herself with every step. Why had she given in so easily? She’d planned to use this weekend alone with Claude to stir him to action for Jennie’s sake. Here she was, down to the final minutes, and she’d walked away from one last opportunity. Why hadn’t she said what she wanted to?
“You need to think about it and then do it so your daughter has a chance to live her own life instead of taking care of you. Until you regain your strength, you’ll never regain your self-respect. So get up, Claude, and walk to the bridge with me.” She spouted the statement to the rolling expanse of towering, boulder-strewn mountains on the opposite side of the river. Their stony silence reminded her too much of Claude’s often brooding muteness.
She shook her head, aggravated with herself. Doc Whiteside had advised her not to mollycoddle Claude, as she was enabling him to give up. Yet time and again, she hid her true feelings. Out of kindness or simply an unwillingness to stir contention? She couldn’t be sure.
Etta paused and lifted her face to the clear blue sky overhead. “God, did You stifle my words, or did I let cowardice take over? I try so hard to honor You in what I say and do. Your Word instructs us to turn the other cheek, to treat others the way we want to be treated, to love even our enemies. Claude isn’t my enemy—he’s my beloved husband. But at times, his actions and the things he says makes him seem like an enemy.” Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away. “Tell me what to do to bring my husband back to me, please.”
The breeze tousled her hair and whispered through the grasses, and she listened hard, but no voice spoke from the canopy of sky. She sighed, took a firmer grip on the wagon handle, and continued her trek down the sloping ground to the footbridge. She parked the wagon, then sat on the flatbed and waited for her daughter.
Within minutes of her arrival, the train’s whistle signaled its approach. She stood, pasting on a smile for Jennie’s sake, as the train screeched to a stop. The conductor hopped down from the caboose’s back landing, his round, ruddy, friendly face angling in Etta’s direction. The hissing steam and chug-chug of the pulsing engine created too much noise to allow conversation, so she waved a hello and he responded in kind.
She watched as he lifted crates one by one from the caboose and stacked them next to the train. Midway through the transfers, she realized someone other than Jennie was handing the crates to Mr. Jenkins. Recognition dawned. Apparently, Leo Day had decided to return for the dinosaur bone. Thank goodness. It unnerved her to have the old thing in her otherwise clean house.
Mr. Jenkins tipped his hat to Etta and hopped back up on the landing. Jennie climbed down and Leo closely followed her. They both waved, presumably to Mr. Jenkins, and the train squealed into motion. Jennie reached for a crate, but Leo touched her arm and shook his head. He said something, Jennie frowned, and he said something else. She shrugged and headed for the footbridge. She made her way across the bridge slowly, watching her feet, then clambered the short distance to her mother.
Etta pulled her daughter into an embrace, savoring the tight squeeze Jennie delivered. “Did you have an enjoyable weekend? How are your aunt and uncle?”
Jennie pulled loose. “They’re fine. They send their love and said you and Daddy should come next time. The hotel owner hired a new baker for the restaurant.” Hopefulness glistened in her rich-brown eyes. “Uncle Prime said that when Daddy comes, they’ll have the baker make pound cake with strawberries. The bed behind the hotel is producing well this year.”
Etta forced a soft laugh. “The promise of his favorite cake just might lure your daddy to town.”
Jennie sighed, and Etta interpreted the meaning behind it. Jennie had heard the lack of confidence in her mother’s tone. Eager to set aside the cloak of sadness that had fallen over the two of them, Etta turned to Leo, who’d crossed the bridge and now stood beside the wagon with a crate balanced against his front. “I wish I’d known you were coming. I could have brought that old bone down for you. Then you wouldn’t have to stay and wait for the return train.”
He set the crate on the wagon and whipped off his hat, giving a nod to Etta. “It’s all right. Jennie told me there’s no real way to send messages out here. Besides, I’d like to visit with your husband.” He sent a glance toward the cabin. “Is he available for company today?”
Etta couldn’t guarantee how Claude would respond to an unexpected visitor, but he was awake, dressed, and sitting in his chair. “He is.”
“Good.” He settled his hat into place again. “I’ll get the rest of your crates and pull the wagon around for you.”
Etta held up her hand. “If you need to speak with Mr. Ward, why don’t you go on to the cabin? Jennie and I are accustomed to taking care of the goods.”
Determination squared his shoulders even while his friendly smile remained intact. “Ma’am, my mother would have my hide if she knew I could have helped and didn’t. I’ll see to the crates today for you ladies.” He strode back to the bridge.
Etta slid her hand through the bend of Jennie’s arm and pulled her close. “He’s a polite young man.”
Jennie nodded, her pensive gaze seeming to follow him. “He is. I think he could be a good friend if…”
Etta waited, but Jennie didn’t finish her sentence. She gave her daughter’s arm a gentle squeeze. “If you weren’t stuck out here away from town?”
A flush filled Jennie’s cheeks. “Even if I was in town, he’s only here for the summer. Then he’ll go back to college. So it doesn’t really matter.”
The regret in Jennie’s voice pierced Etta. Whether Claude ever walked the pipeline again or not, they could no longer hold Jennie captive out here. Etta drew Jennie a short distance away from the wagon, then spoke in a low tone. “Honey, it does matter. Having friends matters. I’ll sit down this afternoon and write a letter to Delia informing her you’ll be moving to town at the end of the summer.”
Jennie’s eyes flew wide. “Mama, I can’t move to town. Who would inspect the pipeline?”
Etta lifted her chin, feigning confidence. “Your father, of course. We’ll use these summer months to build his strength. By fall, when school starts again, he should be able to resume the route. It might take him longer to walk the full distance than it did before he broke his leg, but he can do it. He needs to do it.” She believed that from the depth of her being. Claude needed to walk that pipeline again. “As long as you’re available, he’ll sit in his chair and brood.”
Tears swam in her daughter’s eyes. “Mama, I can’t be selfish and run off to town. If it wasn’t for me, Daddy wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place.”
Etta drew a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”
“I…I…”
The creak of their wagon’s wheels interrupted. Leo pulled the wagon alongside them, aiming a curious look from daughter to mother to daughter again. “Is everything all right?”
Jennie turned her back and rubbed her fist under her nose. Etta nodded, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Yes, we were just catching up after our time apart.” Such a bald lie. She hoped God would forgive her, but she didn’t know what else to say. Why would Jennie blame herself for Claude’s fall? She hadn’t even been with him at the time. “Thank you for loading those crates for us. You’re a very kind young man.” She gave her daughter a gentle nudge. “Jennie, you run ahead and let your daddy know Mr. Day wants to talk to him. Mr. Day and I will be along shortly.”
“Yes, Mama.” Jennie darted off.
Leo watched after her. “Jennie seemed upset. I hope my presence isn’t making her uncomfortable.”
Etta’s heart rolled over. He was a nice young man, exactly the kind of friend she wanted Jennie to find. “It isn’t you at all.” She started up the path, and he accompanied her, pulling the wagon. She held to a slow pace partly to prevent spilling the crates and partly to prolong their time together. “Jennie always experiences a touch of the doldrums when she returns from town. It’s very quiet out here, don’t you agree?”
He switched hands on the handle. “Yes, I do.” His gaze swept the area, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “I find it a nice distraction from the busyness of the college grounds, but I suppose it would be different if I lived here. The quiet and seclusion might lead to being lonely.”
His astuteness surprised her. It also lent further evidence to his kind nature. “You’re right. And it has. One weekend in town every month doesn’t allow time for Jennie to develop friendships.”
To her further surprise, he laughed. “Well, if she stayed longer than a day or two, I think friends might pop up from behind every bush. I actually witnessed a pair of boys doing their best to win her favor.”
Etta raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
His grin turned mischievous. He shared about her trying to escape some boys’ overly friendly advances at the drugstore counter. “I’m sure they were harmless, but I think they intimidated her with their enthusiasm.”
She imagined the scene, then sighed. “Likely so. Jennie hasn’t had any real interaction with people her age since she was a child. She’s probably forgotten how to relate to others.” The longer her daughter stayed out here, the harder it would be for her to form friendships. Should she arrange to send Jennie to town right away instead of waiting until school started again?
“Well…” Leo swiped perspiration from his brow. “Depending on what your husband tells me about this area, it’s possible I will spend quite a bit of my summer break near your home. With your permission, I could stop by occasionally and visit with you folks.”
Etta appreciated him including her and Claude. He seemed to be an honorable young man. How many visits would he make before he grew weary of Claude’s morose countenance? Then he would stop coming around, and Jennie could be hurt. He was waiting for an answer, but she didn’t have one. She gestured to the open doorway of the cabin. “Thank you for your help, Leo. Please leave the wagon next to the stoop. Jennie and I will bring the items inside while you visit with Mr. Ward.”