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Authors: Lori Wick

BOOK: Song for Silas, A
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8
 

 

Amy was halfway across the yard before she realized the barn door was partially open. Quickening her steps while avoiding mud puddles, Amy approached the barn in unbelief. Silas had actually beaten her to the milking.

Amy stood a few minutes just inside, recovering from her surprise, when a deep voice spoke from amid a row of various-colored cows. “There is no reason for you to be out here, Amy. I can take care of everything.”

Amy followed the voice until she stood at Silas’ side. When he raised his head, she spoke with a teasing voice, “Am I being dismissed?” Before he could answer, Amy began to laugh at his appearance. “Oh, Silas,” she said between giggles, “I forgot how much you look like a bear in the mornings.”

Her words so mimicked Luke’s opinion of Silas’ morning appearance, he had to smile. Amy returned the smile with a warm one of her own and said, “I’ll have breakfast ready when you get in.”

Within the hour Silas was in the kitchen bending over the washstand. After brushing his hair and beard into some semblance of order, he headed to the table that was the focal point of the Nolan kitchen.

The room was not overly large, and the table and stove took up most of the floor space. Over six feet in length and easily four feet wide, the table was space-consuming by any standard,
but seemed especially so with just Silas sitting and watching Amy dish up food from the stove.

She had outdone herself this morning. Silas’ eyes took in eggs, sausage, bacon, fried potatoes, biscuits, three choices of jam, oatmeal, milk, and coffee. As Amy continued to work, Silas’ eyes skimmed over the room he had briefly passed through the night before. It was as he remembered. Two small windows looked out over the front yard. The curtains were very plain white cotton, but somehow fitting in this simple room. Hooks on the wall, a washstand, stove, and small, low worktable along one wall—yes, everything was as he recalled.

When Amy joined Silas at the table, she asked him to pray. She was impressed again with the feeling that all was going to be well as Silas petitioned God on behalf of Grant Nolan. Silas asked God outright to ease Grant’s pain and put him back on his feet. He prayed with such assurance that Amy felt that was exactly what God would do.

When the prayer ended, they ate in companionable silence until Silas questioned Amy about the robbery. Amy told him what they had learned from Doc and then ended with, “I plan to drive into town tomorrow. I always take time to see Aunt Bev, so I’m sure she’ll give me any news we’ve missed out here.”

“Does she ever come out here to see you?” Silas asked, although quite sure what the answer would be.

“No. Uncle Evan forbids it.” Her voice was so sad that Silas wished he’d kept his question to himself.

Grant woke not long after breakfast and Silas went in to see him. The two men spent the next two hours in deep conversation. Amy moved between the bedroom and the kitchen getting her father’s breakfast and then bringing coffee as the morning slipped by.

When Silas finally left the bedroom so Grant could get some more rest, he knew exactly what Grant wanted done in the
next several weeks. The milking and hauling, the fields, and care for the animals—they had covered it all. Silas would also be finishing the painting of the barn and house—the very cause for Grant’s bedridden condition, and not a comfortable subject.

When Silas had first brought up the matter of doing the painting, Grant had said absolutely not, the painting could wait. But Silas was undeterred and, after some coaxing and reasoning, Grant had agreed to tell what his plans had been prior to falling from the ladder.

When Silas sat down to the table for noon dinner, he was holding a list of supplies he would need from town. He and Amy discussed the list and agreed that it would be easiest if he accompanied her. They planned to leave the following morning after breakfast. They would stop on the way so Amy could ask a neighbor to check on Grant at midday and get his meal.

The remainder of the day went by with chores and small talk. Silas helped Grant to the kitchen table for supper, and the three of them talked and laughed long after the dishes were cleared and the coffeepot empty. It was a warm and special beginning to Silas’ stay with the Nolans.

9
 

 

Two-and-a-half miles northwest of town nestled into the base of a rocky bluff sat the Nolan farm. It was not a farm handed down from earlier generations of Nolans, but it had been home to Amy for as long as she could remember.

Grant’s father, as a very young man, had come to Neillsville to work in the logging industry there. Grant was born into this rough existence and even worked for a time in the logging trade.

But the work was dangerous and Grant, with a wife and young daughter, had wanted out. He borrowed money from the bank which was subsequently owned and operated by his wife’s uncle and brother, and bought a small, ill-kept dairy farm not far from town. Grant moved his wife, Maureen, and small daughter, Amy, to the farm when Amy was 3 years old.

The barn was large, with more than enough room to house the 19 healthy cows Grant milked. His milk went daily to the Daisy Cheese Factory at the edge of town, a steady income he’d banked on for years.

The farmhouse was small and white with a high-pitched roof. A small porch led up to the front door that opened into the kitchen. Two bedrooms and a living room completed the downstairs. Simple-cut stairs in the living room went up to the bedroom in the attic.

Silas and Amy emerged from the house as a clear morning sun warmed the ground. Silas in clean, blue denim pants and a red plaid shirt walked beside Amy whose dress was a soft yellow print. She tied on a matching bonnet as the couple moved across the yard to the barn where Silas had the wagon and team waiting.

Silas watched Amy glance back at the house and broke into her thoughts. “If you’re worried about your dad being alone, I could take your list for town.”

Amy shook her head in rather sad resignation as she answered, “No, Silas. Dad would be upset if he thought I stayed on his account. But thanks for the offer.” Amy stopped by the wagon and looked up to meet Silas’ eyes. “I suppose you think I’m being rather silly, but he’s so helpless in that bed. I would just feel sick if anything more happened.”

Silas answered as he helped her into the wagon. “On the contrary, I would think something was wrong with you if you could leave without a backward glance. Do you trust Mrs. Brewer to check on your dad?” At Amy’s nod he continued, “Then I think you should leave with a peaceful heart, knowing you’ve taken care of everything.”

Amy was thankful for his logic, and when a quarter mile up the road they stopped at the Brewer’s farm, all doubts vanished.

“Of course I’ll check on your father,” Mrs. Brewer assured Amy. “I’ll take Sammy with me, and we’ll see to his every need. You know I’m always happy to give you a hand. It’s important for a woman to get out to town when she can. Lifts the spirits, I always say.”

Amy smiled at this woman who, along with her husband and sons, had been such a help and encouragement since her father’s accident. It was to them she had run when her father had called from the yard in agony. The bone in his leg had
actually come through the skin, and his entire body had seemed to lie at an impossible angle. Amy had been unable to move Grant from his crumpled position at the bottom of the ladder. So, upon arriving at the Brewer farm, Mr. Brewer and their oldest son, Dave, raced with Amy back to the house while Sammy was sent for the doctor.

Among the three of them, they had moved Grant to his bed and were keeping him warm when the doctor arrived.

“Yes, Silas was right,” Amy thought as she introduced him to Mrs. Brewer. “I completely trust my father to this woman’s capable hands.”

The prospect of time in town had Amy’s mood high as the land leveled out and the houses of the main street came into view.

Their first stop was at the bank where Amy hoped to catch sight of her Uncle Evan. Much to her disappointment, he was out. Amy made a withdrawal while Silas returned his rented horse and saddle to the livery.

When Silas picked her up, Amy asked him to drive the team to the general store. She had her list of household supplies and Silas had Grant’s list for the farm. Amy saw familiar faces everywhere as they made their way past the hat shop, a boardinghouse, saloons, and numerous lumber dealers. The sight of Amy aboard her own wagon with a strange bearded man at the reins brought many stares and a few hesitant waves.

Hesitant that is, until Silas pulled up in front of one of the general stores. Mrs. Anderson, the owner’s wife, who was always on the lookout for new faces and news, nearly ran into them on the boardwalk out front.

“Well, Amy dear, you’ve been such a stranger lately. How is your father? We’ve missed you on Sundays the last few weeks. We really do hope you’ll be out soon. No one can play like you do. I’m afraid you’ve got us all spoiled.”

Amy noted with amusement that while all the comments and questions were directed to her, Mrs. Anderson’s eyes rarely left Silas Cameron’s handsome face.

“Well, Amy dear,” Mrs. Anderson said with some reproof in her tone and a raised brow, “aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

A quick glance at Silas told Amy he was as amused as she was by the woman’s long-winded speech, but his manners were impeccable as Amy did the honors.

“Mrs. Anderson, this is Silas Cameron, a friend of my family’s from the Reedsburg area. Silas, this is Mrs. Anderson. She and her husband run the general store and post office.”

Even as Silas shook the woman’s hand and attempted to greet her politely, she began to speak. “Well, how nice to meet a friend of Amy’s.” No one missed the emphasis she put on friend.

“Tell me, Silas—I hope it’s alright to call you Silas?”

“Certainly.”

“Tell me, Silas, are you looking to settle in this area? Possibly planning to make your home here?”

“Well no, ma’am. Actually I’m here to help at the Nolans’ while Grant gets back on his feet.”

“Oh well,” her voice was filled with disappointment. “I hope you have a nice stay.” She looked at Amy with genuine regret in her eyes. Then with a sudden “oh goodness,” Mrs. Anderson’s regret was replaced by curious interest. “There’s Milly Baker with her new baby. You two go on inside. Ed will see to you.”

Silas stared after the once-again-talking woman until he felt Amy’s hand on his arm. “Is she always like that?”

Amy laughed. “Oh yes, she’s never the same twice. The only thing that stays the same is her ever-present desire to see her
daughters marry. I’m afraid you crushed her by telling her you were not going to be living here for the rest of your life.”

Silas kept his thoughts to himself as he entered the store, but the idea of Mrs. Anderson as a mother-in-law was a bit disconcerting. Once inside, the couple wasted no time selecting the items on their list. In short order everything was loaded and paid for and they were on their way to see Bev Randall.

10
 

 

One of Neillsville’s most prominent citizens in 1888 was Evan Randall. He owned and ran the largest bank in town— a business and position he had inherited from his uncle, Dell Randall. The Randall name was one of importance and commanded respect in the town of Neillsville. The Randall men were not known for their warmth or social skills, but over the years no one could fault them for their shrewd business sense and the way they turned a profit at every hand.

Amy knew all about her uncle’s business acumen, and she was not blind to the fact that he completely blamed Grant Nolan for his sister’s death. He believed life on the farm was too hard and that the work had shortened her life. He was sure she would have stood stronger against the illness that claimed her if her life hadn’t been so rough.

In fact, he had never approved of the marriage between his sister Maureen and Grant, even before Grant began to farm. Older than Maureen by five years and already working under his Uncle Dell at the bank, Evan’s aspirations for his sister went much higher than a man who worked for one of the small logging firms in town.

The fact that 18-year-old Maureen was head over heels in love with Grant Nolan or that his Uncle Dell had given his complete approval made little difference. The whole idea was
repulsive to him and he was thoroughly against his beloved sister marrying someone he felt was beneath her.

He rarely spoke to Maureen during the first 18 months of her marriage to “that logger” as Evan disdainfully put it, until Maureen presented him with a tiny blonde niece named Amy.

Evan’s heart melted at the sight of the little girl, and this was the Evan Randall Amy knew. He was never too rushed to talk with her. Opinions that he was cold were completely groundless in the presence of his niece.

The plain truth was, Evan Randall was willing to do anything for her. The love Amy had for her uncle was straight from her heart, and she recognized that not even his sweet wife, Bev, received the special smiles she did and this bothered her.

Bev never seemed upset with her or jealous, but to Amy it was obvious, as she was sure it was obvious to everyone else, that Evan Randall thought his niece most special—as special as his sister had been. As Amy grew older, she began to see that Evan was pouring into her all the love he hadn’t been able to give to his sister in the last four years.

This special relationship between Amy and her uncle had always been a source of security and joy to her. But recently something had come up, and Amy was unsure how to deal with it. Worry invaded her peace. Amy was thinking of it even as Silas pulled the team to a stop in front of a huge white mansion.

A deep, wide porch ran along the entire front of the majestic-looking home. Thick white pillars supported the flat porch roof that gracefully fronted the second-story windows.

The tenuous thread that held the Nolan and Randall families together had been abruptly severed with Maureen’s death, so Silas had never been here. He let out a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes moved over the exterior.

Amy smiled with some pride. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? My mother grew up in this house. I had forgotten until this moment that you haven’t seen it or met my aunt and uncle.”

Silas usually took hospitality for granted, but with the little information he had on these two families, and the quiet way Amy had ridden in the seat beside him, he had to ask, “Amy, maybe it would be best if I didn’t stay. I could get lunch downtown and come back for you later. It would give you a chance to have a private visit with your aunt.”

The shock on Amy’s face was genuine. “Silas, why would you think such a thing? Aunt Bev knows all about you, and I know she’ll want to meet you. You couldn’t be more welcome in this home.”

Silas immediately assumed he had mistaken her pensive look in the wagon. “Honestly, Amy, I meant no offense. It’ll be a pleasure to meet your family.”

Amy stood and looked at Silas even after he lifted her from the wagon. Silas smiled into the light-blue eyes regarding him so intently. She seemed very vulnerable to him at that moment. It became clear that his meeting and liking her aunt and uncle must be important to her.

Silas gently placed his hands on Amy’s small shoulders and his smile became very tender. “Amy, I know the relationship between your father and uncle is painful for you. I would be a liar if I said I never thought of it, because it bothers me too. But I want to meet the Randalls. I know how special they are to you, and I’m sorry my question sounded so insensitive.”

After a moment Amy smiled back. “You’re always so logical, Silas. I think we get along very well together.”

“I think we do too. Besides,” he spoke as he took her arm and led her toward the door, “
that
is what big brothers are for.”

Amy continued in his light-hearted mood. “It’s a nice arrangement I’ve got, having a part-time big brother. If we’d grown up together, you would be bossy and tease me all the time. This way if you step out of line, I won’t feed you.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting, I can cook!”

“That does pose a problem. If I can’t get to you through your stomach, I’ll have to come up with something else to keep you in shape.”

They shared a final teasing smile before Silas reached up to knock at the front door. It was by mutual, unspoken consent that they waited in silence for the door to open.

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