Reverie (Hollow Hearts Book 1) (7 page)

“I like apples,” Lottie announced in that moment, letting go of Hetty’s hand and running ahead through the rows of trees.

“It’s hard to keep that child indoors some days. She just loves to run!”

“I remember working with the younger children at the orphanage. Some days there was no keeping up,” Hetty said. “They are just so full of energy.”

“That’s true. I should be used to her energy considering I raised those boys, but I just can’t keep up with her the way I want to.” Elizabeth looked down at her apron and brushed away an imaginary spot.

“Elias told me what happened to her mother. It’s terribly sad.”

“Yes, it is. Rachel never got to experience the joy of mothering. New babies are one thing. It’s all eat, sleep, and changing. But she’s missing out on watching that precious child grow.”

Hetty attempted to move away from the sad conversation. “Perhaps she’s watching over Lottie and not missing a thing.”

“Perhaps. Though I’m not sure Rachel was ever really meant to be a ranch wife. I don’t think this was what she expected.” Elizabeth gestured toward the garden and back toward the trees.

Hetty didn’t reply. It wasn’t her business. Rachel wasn’t here to share her side and for all Hetty knew, she was a wonderful mother. She had to be to have such a sweet little girl. At that moment Lottie appeared from behind a tree, giggling, with a scruffy creature trailing behind her.

“This is my dog. His name is Jasper,” she said proudly.

Hetty looked over the scruffy dog, noting he must be rather old. His coloring, though dirty, was all white. He had big eyes, and if Hetty wasn’t mistaken, looked like he was smiling.

“Hello, Jasper,” she said, bending down to pet behind his ear. The dog sat in front of her and gave her a nudge with his head.

“Jasper is my friend, just like you,” Lottie said.

“And I bet he’s a wonderful friend.” Hetty smiled at the child.

“We’ve had Jasper since the boys were young. He’s not much of a guard dog, but he’s as kind a dog as I’ve ever seen.” Elizabeth pulled a small piece of bacon from the pocket of her apron and handed it to the dog. He took it gently before walking ahead, trying desperately to keep up with Lottie.

“I’d like to show you the barn before we head back inside, if that’s okay with you.”

Elizabeth led the way toward the large, red structure. Hetty had seen it when they drove up yesterday, but hadn’t paid much mind to it. A barn was a barn in her opinion. When Elizabeth opened the door Hetty was overwhelmed with the smell of fresh wood. The light, earthy scent surrounded her and she paused a moment to breathe it in. She noticed sawdust and wood chips littering the floor and realized they must be in Isaac’s workshop.

“There are actually two sides to the barn. This is the side where Isaac works. Elias keeps the horses on the other side, but both sides are connected through that door there.” Elizabeth gestured. “Before my husband died he realized the boys needed their own space so he modified the barn a bit, added more space, and essentially created two spaces in one. Now Elias can tend to the horses and animals and we don’t have to worry about anyone getting hurt on Isaac’s tools,” Elizabeth explained.

Hetty noticed the variety of tools hanging on one wall. She could see that some looked quite dangerous. They were out of the way of little hands, and that was comforting. There were stacks of wood, different sizes, in one corner, and a large workbench in the center of the room.

“My uncle makes furniture,” Lottie said as she picked up a pile of sawdust and began playing with it. “Uncle Isaac lets me draw pictures on the floor.” She sat down in the middle of the sawdust and began using her finger to trace circles and lines, quickly brushing them away when it was time to draw something new. She didn’t seem to mind the dust or dirt, and the sheer pleasure she seemed to gain from something so simple made Hetty smile. Elias was right. This little girl belonged on a ranch.

Hetty was surprised Isaac wasn’t in the barn working. He’d mentioned he would be in his shop when he left this morning, and Hetty felt a slight disappointment that she wouldn’t get to see him work. As she looked around the barn and took in the scent—his scent—she could easily picture him working away the hours creating beautiful pieces. Running his hands along the curve of the wood, testing its smoothness and shape, straining his eyes to be sure he cut at just the right angle, sweating and working to take a simple piece of wood and make it something...magnificent.

“Hetty, did you hear me?” Elizabeth said, pulling Hetty from her slightly inappropriate thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I was...admiring Isaac’s workshop.”

“Yes, he loves this space. Even before he was old enough to use the tools he’d be out here drawing pictures of things he wanted to create. Elias loves the ranch, but Isaac is a born craftsman.” Elizabeth’s voice showed the pride she felt for her sons and all they’d accomplished.

Hetty admired this woman—raising two incredibly kind sons, taking care of everyone on the ranch, surviving the death of her beloved husband, and still managing to maintain such a loving outlook on life.
Will I ever have my chance to love others the way she does?
Hetty thought.
Will I ever have a family of my own to embrace?

“Hetty, I don’t...I don’t think I feel...” Before the words were finished Elizabeth’s balance began to falter. She put her hand on the worktable to steady herself, but it seemed to make her more unsteady.

“Elizabeth?” Hetty rushed to her side and caught her under her arms just as she fell to the ground.
What was happening?

“Grandma, are you okay?” Hetty heard Lottie ask as she made a cautious walk over to where Hetty held her on the ground.

What do I do?
Hetty thought.
I don’t want to scream for help and scare Lottie. Where is Isaac? Why isn’t he working in here like he said he would?
Hetty needed to do something. She wasn’t strong enough to move Elizabeth into the house, and she wasn’t sure moving her was safe to begin with. Lottie looked on with waves of fear moving across her face.

Hetty tried to sound calm. “Lottie, listen to me. I need to you do something for me.”

“Is Grandma okay?” Lottie’s voice trembled.

Hetty didn’t want to lie to the child, but the last thing she needed in the moment was to have Lottie get any more upset. “I don’t know, sweetie. But I need your help. Can you go just outside the barn door and look to see if you see your Uncle Isaac or your Daddy?”

“I’m scared.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s okay. I know you’re scared. But I need you to go right outside the door and look, okay? Can you do that for me?”

The child shook her head and walked quickly to the door before disappearing. Hetty stayed right where she was. She tried gently stroking Elizabeth’s hair, hoping to comfort her even if she wasn’t conscious. Both of them were covered in dirt and sawdust. Hetty wasn’t sure what else she could do until help arrived. “Please, Lord. Please bring someone to help,” Hetty prayed aloud.
What was taking so long?

Just then the door to the barn burst open and Isaac and Elias came running through. Both men rushed to their mother’s side, nearly pushing Hetty out of the way.

“What happened?” Elias asked, fear hanging on his words.

“I think she fainted. She said she wasn’t feeling well and then she started to fall.”

Both men firmly yet gently lifted their mother from the ground and off Hetty’s lap.

“Let’s get her in the house,” Isaac said. As quickly as they arrived, both men disappeared out the barn door leaving Hetty alone, still on the ground, and covered in dirt.

She rose, brushed herself off, and immediately followed after them. When the house came into view she saw Lottie sitting on the porch crying, her arms wrapped around Jasper’s neck. The men rushed past her and entered the house. Hetty couldn’t bear to see the child so scared and alone. She hurried up the steps, rushed to the child’s side, and threw her arms around her. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay, Lottie. Why don’t we go inside and see what we can do to help your uncle and your daddy?” The little girl said nothing, but allowed Hetty to pick her up and carry her inside the door.

They entered the house and found the downstairs silent. Hetty hurried up the stairs with Lottie still in her arms and found the brothers in Elizabeth’s room. Hetty hadn’t seen the room yet, and the brightness of the room with its yellow quilt, white walls, and fresh flowers comforted her despite the terrifying situation. She set Lottie down and rushed to the side of the bed.

“I’m going for the doctor,” Elias said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He headed out the door, pausing momentarily to kiss Lottie on the forehead.

“Isaac, what can I do?” Hetty asked.

“Will you please bring me a damp cloth for her head? I think she’s running a fever.” He didn’t meet her eyes when he spoke. His attention was entirely on his mother.

Hetty turned and reached for Lottie’s hand. “Lottie, would you like to help me?”

The little girl nodded, still not speaking. They headed downstairs together. In the kitchen Hetty quickly poured Lottie a glass of milk and found a few cookies. “Why don’t you sit here and have a little snack while I get something for Uncle Isaac?”

Lottie moved to her seat and looked down at the table. Hetty knew she was scared. She was so young, so unaware of life’s sometimes unpleasant moments. But until they knew what had happened to Elizabeth, Hetty didn’t want the girl to be exposed to too much. She felt the need to protect her, comfort her. She placed the cookies and milk in front of Lottie. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” She found a towel, quickly wet it and wrung it out, and headed upstairs to help Isaac.

When she entered the room, Elizabeth lay just as still as when she’d left. Isaac sat next to her bed, his head bowed.
Was he praying? I should offer up my own prayer.
Hetty folded her hands and bowed her head.
Lord, this isn’t my family. But they are wonderful people. Please be with them. Show them your love and comfort and help me to be what they need.

“Isaac...,”
Hetty whispered.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion and fear. In that moment he didn’t look like the strong man who used his hands to create heirloom pieces for homes. He didn’t look like the kind man who’d listened so intently to her story just that morning over breakfast. He looked like a little boy. A scared little boy. She could see tears welling in the corner of his eyes as he reached to grip his mother’s hand. He was trying so hard to be strong, yet Hetty could see every piece of him wanted to break. He was afraid he was losing his mother.

Hetty moved to the side of the bed opposite Isaac and gently laid the cloth across Elizabeth’s forehead. Hetty noticed she was breathing softly and it didn’t look as if she was in any pain. She appeared to be resting peacefully. Hetty knew Isaac wasn’t going to speak. His eyes said all he needed them to say. She quietly left the room and returned to Lottie, leaving Isaac to care for his mother. 

“Lottie, would you like to sit with me and read book?” she asked when she noticed the glass and plate were empty.

The young girl nodded her head. Hetty quickly moved into her room and removed the special book from the top of her dresser. She took Lottie’s hand, walked with her to the sofa, and pulled the child into her lap. She felt Lottie snuggle into the crook of her arm and for a moment she breathed in the innocence of this lovely child and quietly prayed her gratitude for this simple act.

Hetty ran her hand across the worn cover of the book. It had survived so many years at the orphanage by staying hidden under her bed. This book, full of wonderful tales, was one of the only mementos she still possessed from her parents. Her father purchased the book just before she was born and, despite losing his wife days after her birth, he read to her every night until his death. She was grateful the book remained intact, and she could think of no better person to share it with than Lottie.

She whispered, “This is the book I used to read as a child. It was my favorite.” Hetty opened the cover and softly began reading the tales of Mother Goose. She read rhymes and stories that elicited several smiles from Lottie. As she continued to read she noticed Lottie had closed her eyes and fallen asleep. Hetty carefully closed the book and set it on the small table next to the sofa. She began gently stroking Lottie’s blond curls and felt the child relax even more.
I know how she feels
, Hetty thought.
Sometimes all you want in the world is your mother and it is always the one thing you cannot have.
She knew what life was like to grow up without the guidance and gentle love only a mother could give. Lottie was lucky, of course. She did have a wonderful, if not typical, family who cherished her. But missing one’s mother? That never goes away.