Katie's Dream (8 page)

“Thanks for the milk and the muffin,” Franky spoke up. “I wanna get back to that chair. I think it's gonna be real nice, but I'm only jus' gettin' started.”

“Got everything you need?” Samuel asked.

“I think so. If you'll let me the nails.”

“Don't have many small ones, but you can use what's there.” Samuel shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth
and glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall. “Be careful sawing,” he told Franky. “Especially if anybody comes in the shop to look.”

“Yes, sir.”

Samuel took a last drink of coffee and got up from the table. “I'll be back before long, one way or another, Juli.”

“Samuel . . .”

He barely glanced my way. “What?”

I didn't know what to say. Not in front of the children. “I love you.”

He only stopped for a moment. “Thanks. That's quite a gift.”

Then he was gone. And after looking at poor Katie's face, I found myself almost hoping Barrett couldn't part with the truck. It would be wrenching for her if Samuel had to just leave her in town, but the sheriff might suggest it. Maybe he knew a place for children in a situation like this. But would that be the right thing?

I sat for a moment, looking at the door.

“Where'd Mr. Wortham's brother go?” Franky asked out of the blue.

“I don't know. He just had to go.”

“They don't seem much alike.”

“No.” I sighed. “They don't.”

“Think me an' Willy's that differ'nt?”

“Oh, Franky, I don't know. It's not the same thing.”

“We're born differ'nt,” he said. “But then we choose differ'nt too.”

I just looked at him. Thank God Samuel had chosen different. Thank God.

“Guess I better get started,” Franky said cheerfully. “I wanna have somethin' to show by the time Mr. Wortham gets back.” He stood up with a grin, reached his hat from a hook by the door, and then tipped it to Katie. “Was good t' meet ya,” he said. “But I gotta get busy.”

“Bye,” she whispered, looking down at the dishes in front of her.

Sarah was picking hers up to carry to the dishpan. “Mommy, can we make ice cream today?”

“Oh, honey, we haven't the ice or near enough salt.”

“Maybe Daddy could get some.”

“No. Your daddy has too many other things to do.” I never told her we couldn't afford such a luxury, even homemade. Robert would have understood that. But even he didn't know we were penniless.

“Blackberries is good too,” she said. “Can we pick blackberries?”

“They're not quite ready yet, honey, but it'll be soon. There may be a few more raspberries, but I don't know if we'll get to them today. Let's get everything else done.”

“Like what? What are we gonna do?”

“I've got plenty of garden work. And wash to do. Thank goodness I got the bread in the oven before the worst heat.”

“I gotta play with this new girl,” Sarah told me, as if it were a solemn duty.

“I understand that. But you can both help me. It'll be more fun that way.”

“I like washin' in the summertime,” she told Katie. “'Cause it's okay to get wet, an' you don't get cold.”

Katie didn't answer her.

With Sarah's help, I cleared the rest of the dishes and washed them with some of the water I'd left on the stove to heat. The kitchen was already so warm I thought I'd let the fire go out and cook dinner and supper outside.

When the other dishes were done, I spread the leftover mush in a loaf pan to set. It would be good fried with the little bit of canned sausage we had left on the pantry shelf. For a moment, thoughts of those sparse shelves pinched my insides a little, but I shook away the worry.
The Lord
will provide. He always has before. That's in his hands, and I've got other things to think about.

I wasn't sure I should put Katie to working right along with us, but I knew no other way to do but just carry on with what was at hand. So I lugged the two big tubs out around the side of the house and got Franky to help me carry some of the water, because the buckets were too heavy for the little girls. I brought out warm water from the stove inside and let Franky draw from the well for the rinse. Then he went back to his woodwork, and I grated some of Alberta Mueller's lye soap and started dunking clothes in the tub.

Katie tried her best on the scrub board after watching Sarah and me. She seemed to like Emma's turn-crank ringer. We did all the dirty clothes I could find. Even Katie's. I put her in a jumper of Sarah's, since Edward had gotten off with her change of clothes as well as her dolls.

I let them run and play in the yard while I hung everything on the clothesline. It was a peaceful day, bright and sunny. I prayed that Samuel was peaceful too.

George came in his wagon before I had all the wash up. He had young Sam with him, and they went in the barn without a word to me. Samuel hadn't told me anything, but I surmised they were here to look at Lula Bell. I knew she'd been eating less. And hadn't given us milk for some time. Would George want to butcher? Surely not at this time of year. But she was already thinner, and by fall, there might be nothing left.

He came up from the barn with his slow steps. “She don't look good, that's sure,” he said. “Samuel here?”

“He's not back yet from the Posts'.”

“You tell him I was here and there ain't much we can do for that cow. May as well put her down, hot as it is. I'll ask Post if he can come one day next week to give us a hand. Lizbeth can help you do some cannin'. That way, there'll be some gain at least.”

I hated the thought of losing Lula Bell. And using the meat was far from appealing, but George was practical about such things. We had to use what we could. His pantry was getting as bare as ours, and I knew he was right.

“I'll tell him.”

“I'll be to the north field, if he gets time to work 'longside us today. But I'll unnerstand if he don't.”

He was walking away toward the well, where Sarah had stopped to get a drink. Katie was standing there with her when he came up. He turned his eyes to her, and she backed up a step.

“What's your name, little girl?”

“Katie Wortham.”

George glanced over at me for a second with a strange look on his face. “That so? Well, you're a purty little girl. Enjoy your visit.”

He didn't say anything else, just turned back toward his team and wagon and went on his way.

I hadn't known Katie's last name was Wortham. I'd just assumed it would be Vale, like her mother. Was she just saying that now, because she was still trying to claim Samuel? Of course, people would think she was Edward's child, because of the name and because he'd brought her. And the poor girl might not really have a clue who she was.

I finished hanging what I could on our clothesline and draped one bedsheet over a bush. I wondered if Lizbeth had managed to get her washing done. The Hammonds always had so much, with ten kids and one of them a baby. Of course, I did some of theirs here, but there was still an awful lot on Lizbeth. I thought maybe I should walk over there later in the day and see if she could use some help.

Sarah and Katie agreed to help me pick the first green beans, so I got three bowls and we started in. Katie was so quiet as we worked. Maybe she didn't like the work but
was too polite to say so. If she thought me hard, making her lend a hand, maybe she wouldn't want to stay here after all.

But what was keeping Samuel? He'd had more than enough time to walk back from Posts by now if he couldn't use the truck. Maybe Barrett had hired his help with something extra. I could hope. It had been months since that had happened.

Before we were done picking, though, Samuel came up the lane, truck and all. “He had hay for Joe Porter,” he explained. “I helped him load and haul it to get the job done quicker.”

Katie stood very still, trying hard not to cry.

I took her hand. “Samuel, this is going to be hard for her. Facing strangers again, for one thing.”

He nodded. “Maybe I wouldn't go today, except she might have a grandma or somebody somewhere worried sick not knowing where she is. We've got to think about that too. Even if her mother's walked away, there might be someone else.”

I knew he was right. But poor Katie. She must feel like both her mother and her father were rejecting her. She sat on the porch step quiet as a daisy while I packed the leftover muffins and a few fresh carrots in a brown paper sack for them to take along. Samuel was ready to go, to get this over with, but I made him wait a minute longer as I ran in our bedroom to get the three little yarn dolls Katie had left on our pillow.

When I came back out, she was still just sitting there. Sarah had come and put her arm around her shoulders.

I sat at Katie's other side and placed the little dolls in her hand. “You can keep these,” I told her. “We have more.”

She looked up at me and sniffed. “I don't wanna go.”

“It'll be all right. All you have to do is talk to Mr. Law, answer his questions the best that you can, and then do what he says. You can do that, can't you?”

She nodded. “Will I see you again?”

“I don't know, sweetie. The Lord knows.”

Samuel walked away from us to the truck. I knew he felt bad. But it wasn't his fault. He was right. She might have worried kin someplace. And if she did, we had to find a way to get them together.

“Maybe Daddy could decide to be her daddy too,” Sarah whispered. “I wouldn't mind to have a sister.”

I shouldn't have been surprised. Sarah liked everybody. But we couldn't just claim Katie. Something like that wouldn't be as easy as Sarah made it sound.

I took Katie's hand and gently led her away from the porch. “Right now, it's time to get to town and get business taken care of. Sarah, run and get Katie's clothes off the line. They'll dry quick enough in the truck if they're not already.”

Katie was sitting on the truck seat, clutching those yarn dolls and staring back at me when they drove away. I felt cold and cruel inside. She'd come all the way from Albany, New York, thinking she had a new home. But now she had nothing at all except Sarah's jumper and the “real family” of yarn dolls she was holding in her hand. Maybe I should have told Samuel to bring her back if they couldn't find her someone like the grandma I'd had to make everything all right again.

SIX

Samuel

Katie didn't cry, didn't move at all. For the whole ride to town, she sat and stared straight ahead, not saying a word. A couple of times I tried to assure her that the sheriff was a nice man and she didn't need to be scared. But I knew that wasn't her worry. What would happen after we talked to the sheriff? Even I didn't know that.

In Dearing, we stopped in front of what had been the dry goods store a few months ago. Now it was boarded up like so many other businesses in town. Ben Law kept his office across the street, right next to the bank, which was also closed. On the rest of the block, only Blume's Milk Station and the Feed and Seed were still open.

Down the street I could see Herman Meyer's car in front of his aunt Hazel Sharpe's house. I hoped she was napping.
It had never been particularly pleasant to encounter her on a trip to town.

I helped Katie out of the truck. She was still holding those yarn dolls so tightly that her knuckles were white. But she didn't say anything. I held her other hand as we crossed the street.

Sheriff Law had a cowbell tied to his doorknob, but he didn't look up despite its clank. He was reading the Mt. Vernon newspaper, and after several minutes, he finally glanced our way over a headline saying something about candidate Roosevelt.

“Well, good morning,” he smiled. “You're Wortham, aren't you?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered, not surprised that he would know me. Hazel Sharpe had approached him when we first came here, telling him we were trying to trick Emma Graham out of her possessions. Emma herself had set all that straight.