A Quiet Strength (10 page)

Jenny sat down. Virginia felt it was a small victory. She hurried to put on the coffeepot.

“Tell me about your Hayden,” she said as she placed cups on the table and took the chair across from Jenny.

Jenny took a deep breath. “He’s a physical therapist. Works at the hospital. That’s where I met him.”

Virginia nodded. Jenny’s father had told her that.

“He’s great. Really, he’s lots of fun. We had a fine time. Life was … like a big party.”

“Then Mindy came along,” prompted Virginia.

“Yeah. At first I thought maybe I’d be okay. He didn’t mind too much. Unless she cried when he had a hangover. Then I had to hush her up. But he got more and more sullen. Didn’t like the kid around. Said she made him feel old and tied down. He wanted to be free.

“We had some fights about her, but they never amounted to much. We fought some about other things, too, so I didn’t pay much mind to it. Then he started getting … more upset. Pushy when he got angry. He threw me out of the house once.”

“Was that when you came …?”

“Yeah. I hopped the train. Thought at first I’d never go back, I was so mad. But I soon knew that I couldn’t stay away. Hayden is … is like no other person I’ve ever met. I missed him.”

“So now you’re going back again?”

Jenny just nodded.

“But you’re going to get … going to do something else with Mindy?”

Jenny nodded again.

“You are sure? Absolutely sure this is what you will do?” Jenny said, “Yes, Virginia,” in a way that boded no further questions.

Virginia stood up. “Promise me one thing: Will you wait here until I talk to Jonathan?”

“He’s not going to talk me out of it either, Virginia.”

“He won’t try. I promise.”

Jenny looked surprised but eventually nodded her head in agreement. “I want to catch that afternoon train,” she cautioned Virginia.

“This won’t take long. I promise. I’ll be right back.”

Virginia grabbed a jacket from the hook by the wall and ran to the barn where Jonathan was working with the horses. Her eyes filled with tears, whether from the cold or from the anguish, she didn’t know. It did not take long to spill out the whole sorry story to her husband. He held her close and let her cry. When she had finished he said simply, softly, “We can’t let her do that, can we?”

“What can we do? She’s determined.”

“Well, we might not be able to stop her from giving up the child—I’ve noticed there’s not much love there—but we can stop the little one from ending up in a home.”

Virginia looked up into her husband’s face. “You mean …?”

“We can take her—if you believe that’s what we should do.”

“Jonathan, are you sure?”

“She’s a skitterish little mite, and that’s for sure. But maybe with time and love we can work it out of her.”

“You mean …? Oh, Jonathan, I don’t know. This is such a serious decision to make so quickly. We need time to … to think … and plan.”

“Do we have time?”

“Jenny intends to take the afternoon train.”

“Then all I can say, Virginia, is to follow your heart.” Jonathan pulled her tight against him, and Virginia wept anew.

He held her quietly for a long time and, when her tears were spent, led her to a place in the soft hay. “I think we’d better do some praying,” he said, taking her hand and helping her onto the pile. They sat together and Jonathan held her hand and prayed, asking God for wisdom and clear thinking concerning little Mindy and for some way to reach Jenny with the truth.

When he had finished, he held her again. “Do you want me to come with you to the house?”

“No. No, I’m fine. But you may need to drive Jenny to the train. She’s determined to go.”

He nodded. “Let me know when she’s ready.”

Virginia returned to the house, the burden of decision still upon her. But now somehow her heart was not as heavy. She removed the jacket and hung it on its hook, then turned to Jenny still in the chair at the table. She had helped herself to more coffee.

“I’ve talked to Jonathan,” Virginia began. “We are … would be honored to keep Mindy … until such time as you sort things through. If you decide that you want her back, just come for her. If you decide … otherwise … she will always have a home here with us.”

Jenny nodded, her face without expression. Then Virginia noticed her shoulders begin to tremble. Jenny was weeping.

CHAPTER  10

H
ad Virginia been content to feed and clothe her only, Mindy would have been an easy child. But Virginia saw behind the soulful eyes and the somber face a desperate little person crying silently for help. The little girl had not wept at Jenny’s departure. Nor had she asked for her mother—not once. Her childish stoicism frightened Virginia. Mindy just sat, silent and withdrawn, with only her thumb for comfort.

Virginia did not know what to do. The child seemed to resist physical contact, drawing away whenever Virginia so much as reached out a hand to her. Jonathan tried to help, but Mindy looked up with frightened eyes whenever he came near her. Fearing she might burst into shrieks, he would back off slowly, talking softly to the little girl.

“I don’t know much about children,” he acknowledged, “but she looks just like a skitterish foal to me. Look at those eyes. There’s absolute panic there. I suspect this is going to take a lot of time and patience.”

Virginia feared she might run out of both.

Then Jonathan came up with an idea. “Old Molly is as tame as a kitten. Why don’t I take Mindy out and see how the two of them will get along.”

Virginia’s eyes reflected her doubt, but after a full week of very little progress with the little girl, she was willing to try almost anything.

Mindy allowed Virginia to button on her coat and draw the strings of her hood. Then Jonathan, despite stiff resistance, scooped her up in his arms, and the three of them started off through the lightly falling snow to the barn.

“We’re going to see the horses,” Jonathan explained softly. “Horses. Have you ever seen horses before, Mindy? They are nice. I’ll let you see Molly. Molly likes little people. You can even pet her if you like.”

All the way to the barn he talked to her, using the words “horses” and “Molly” over and over again. Jonathan went to the pen that housed the youngest foals first. “Might be the smaller size will be less frightening for her to start with,” he whispered to Virginia.

It sounded like good logic, but the long-legged, high-energy animals scampered around, pushing and nipping in their effort to get close to Jonathan, who usually brought a treat. Mindy frantically clung to Jonathan’s neck, whimpering her fear.

“Not such a good idea,” he murmured and moved back from the pen.

“My, they have grown!” exclaimed Virginia. “ They are almost as tall as their mamas.”

Jonathan grinned, proud of his horses. Virginia could tell that it took great fortitiude for him to keep away from them for the sake of the child. His normal response to the pushing and milling foals would have been to step close and rub ears and pat necks and offer handfuls of grain. But with Mindy still quaking in his arms, he held his position.

“It’s about time they had names,” he said, speaking softly.

“They aren’t named yet?” inquired Virginia.

“I thought that was something you might like to take on.”

Virginia could not hide her smile. “Well, I guess Mindy and I are going to have to work on that.”

Jonathan moved down the row of mares, who watched soberly from their stalls. “Watch that black,” he cautioned Virginia. “If she’s spooked, she has a tendency to kick.”

Virginia gave the black’s hooves wide berth.

“ That little brown mare—that’s Chiquita. She’s gentle enough, but she’s not been around kids. We’ll just pass her up for now.”

Virginia stopped to eye the brown mare. She was a little beauty with a proud head and wide brown eyes studying first Jonathan and his unusual armful, then Virginia. Her slightly rounded sides were sleek and silky, her black mane flowing and untangled. Her face had the smallest white star on her forehead and one front foot looked like it had been dipped gently into a can of whitewash. “She’s beautiful,” Virginia exclaimed.

Jonathan grinned. “She’s due to drop a foal in the spring. The sire’s Warrior. I can hardly wait to get a look at that one. Should be some horse.”

“Which one’s Warrior?” Jonathan’s corrals held three stallions.

“The sorrel.”

Virginia knew the sorrel. As far as she was concerned, he was the most beautiful animal she had ever seen—tall and proud and muscular, with flowing mane and tail, head held high into the wind, beautiful but frightening. His tossing head and restless hooves made her think of an untamed animal of the wilds. She was concerned each time she saw Jonathan going near his corral. But Jonathan seemed to have no fear of the animal, and to Virginia’s utter amazement the horse suddenly calmed when Jonathan whistled and reached out a hand toward him. But even then he was a mass of unharnessed energy, seeming ready to explode at the least provocation. “Pegasus” would have been a more apt name, Virginia noted silently as she stared at the sorrel.

As Jonathan continued along the row of horses, they turned their heads and whinnied, wanting his attention. Hooves stomped in impatience and nostrils flared while halter ropes strained against the poles that secured them.

Virginia took her eyes from the horses and looked at small Mindy. Her eyes were wide, her small body pressed up close to Jonathan’s chest. She looked absolutely terrified.

“Jonathan … I’m not sure this is a good idea. Look at her.”

Jonathan pulled his eyes from his beloved horses and gazed into the face of the child. “She does look a little nervous,” he agreed, his arms tightening around the small body. “Too bad Molly is at the far end of the barn.”

It appeared he had no intention of turning back. Virginia followed meekly.

Jonathan walked more quickly toward the gentle mare. “This is Molly,” he explained to the child, his voice little more than a whisper. “Molly. See.” He reached out a hand and stroked the rounded rump. Molly rewarded his attention by turning to look at him with soft, dark eyes. She did not so much as flick her tail. “Would you like to touch her? She’s soft. Just feel.” He carefully took Mindy’s hand and reached it toward the animal, but Mindy pulled it back with surprising strength. A small whimper escaped her lips.

“Okay. We won’t touch. Not today.”

Jonathan continued stroking the animal, who had gone back to her feeding.

“Maybe that’s enough for your first day,” Jonathan whispered to Mindy, giving Molly one last pat as he turned to go.

All the way out of the barn, Virginia watched the small child in Jonathan’s embrace. They certainly did not want to terrorize Mindy any further. If she really did not like the horses, it would be unwise to expose her to them.

But the next day Jonathan came in midmorning and took Mindy’s coat down from the hook on the wall.

“What are you doing?” asked Virginia.

“Mindy and I are going to take a little walk out to see the horses.”

“Jonathan, are you sure …?”

“We’ll know soon enough. If she’s a little more at ease with them today, then we’ll know it’s okay. If she still stiffens up, we’ll back off.”

“I don’t want her …”

“Neither do I, Virginia. But we’ve got to find a way to help her if we can.”

Virginia debated whether to go along or stay in the kitchen. At length she decided that for Mindy’s sake, she should be there. She reached for her coat.

“You don’t need to come if you’d rather not. It’s chilly out there.”

“I’ll come.”

To Virginia’s eyes, Mindy looked just as frightened as before, but Jonathan was pleased. “She’s not as stiff,” he noted.

She still looked stiff to Virginia as she clutched Jonathan’s neck, pushing herself against his chest to be as far away from the giant animals as she could get.

But every day following, Jonathan bundled the little girl up and took her to the barn to see the horses. He had moved Molly much closer to the door so they would not need to traverse the entire range of stalls before getting to her. Each day he returned the child to the house with a bit more confidence. He was sure that sometime in the not too distant future, Mindy would actually reach out to touch a horse. Virginia secretly wondered just what that would prove, what it would accomplish. Simply touching a horse was a long way from accepting people—something Mindy certainly didn’t seem to be making any progress on.

But she was less wary of Jonathan. She no longer flinched away when he came near. No longer curled in a ball in the living room chair, hiding her face against its back as he approached. He always spoke to her in the same quiet voice. Gently speaking her name.

At the end of her third week with them, Jonathan came in from his evening chores and hung his heavy coat. He blew on his hands as he crossed to give Virginia a kiss on the cheek. “Brr, it’s cold out there. Where’s our girl?”

“In her usual place,” Virginia said as she removed a pan of fragrant biscuits from the oven.

Jonathan walked on through the kitchen and over to Mindy’s chair. Virginia watched as he wordlessly reached down and scooped the small child into his arms. He crossed to the rocker by the fire and sat down with her. Then, holding her close, his chin resting lightly on her silken head, the two of them rocked. Just rocked. On and on the chair squeaked softly until Virginia called them both to the table.

From then on it was a daily ritual. Midmorning Jonathan would come in from the corrals, put Mindy into her coat, and take her for her tour of the horses. At night, when the evening chores were completed, he would scoop her up and hold her close as they rocked together. Then he added something else. Morning and evening he laid his hand on the little girl’s head and prayed for her.

They were beginning to think they were winning her heart. Mindy no longer withdrew from contact. She even pointed to her coat on the hook when Jonathan came in to get her in the morning, and she often ran to meet him when she heard his steps on the porch. Jonathan and Virginia felt greatly encouraged.

But she still did not speak. Made no effort whatsoever to talk. It troubled them, and they quietly discussed it out of her presence.

“Do you think she’s deaf?” was the natural question. But Mindy did not appear to be deaf. She did respond to noise, turning her head when her name or some sudden sound drew her interest.

“Might she be mentally slow?” was their next question. But Mindy seemed to understand everything they said to her and reacted accordingly.

“I think we should try to get her to a doctor. Find out why she isn’t talking,” Jonathan said one night after they had tucked her in and were discussing the events of the day.

Virginia nodded. She had already discussed Mindy with her uncle Luke. He had made some suggestions, but Mindy had passed each of the small tests with no difficulty. A thorough examination seemed like the next logical step.

But before they could make the arrangements, there was a startling incident. Virginia was dishing out Mindy’s morning porridge when suddenly the girl cried, “No. I don’t want it,” and pushed her bowl off the table.

They looked at each other in total astonishment. They did not know whether to laugh or cry. “She spoke,” said Virginia, shocked, delighted, and alarmed. Mindy had never responded this way before.

Jonathan seemed to gather his senses first. “Mindy, you must not do that again,” he said in a firm but controlled voice. “Look—your porridge is splattered all over the floor. Now we will have to clean it up. If you don’t want porridge, you say ‘No, thank you,’ and then we will talk about it.”

Virginia was still in a daze when she went for the cleaning rag.

It was not the last of Mindy’s tantrums. By the end of her third month living with them, she screamed her protests daily, throwing whatever she held in her hand. Kicking and flailing until Virginia was sure she would injure herself. The docile, frightened child suddenly had turned into a small monster.

Virginia and Jonathan looked at each other with what-do-we-do-now expressions. They were mystified by this abrupt change in behavior. Obviously there was a great deal of anger buried in the tiny body. Once Mindy had achieved enough security to express herself, all the rage seemed to be pouring out in quick succession. Virginia was feeling utterly spent by the end of each day. Tired, drained, and strangely unsettled, she soon realized that part of the reason was not Mindy at all. Virginia was expecting their first child.