Emily continued calling on folks, but she respected the harvesting situation. She certainly did not expect a farmwife to turn away from the pie crusts to prepare her visitor a cup of tea. She did not pause for polite conversation when a farmer was on his way to the granary with a wagonload of grain. Emily had grown up on a farm. She knew the pressure of the harvest.
Thus Emily decided to concentrate her efforts in town for the present. Sophie always seemed glad to see her, and cheerfully served her coffee and sat down to chat when she wasn’t busy. Big John’s sister at the mercantile, too, didn’t seem to mind an occasional chat.
Also there was much to do around her own small place. While the harvesting was being completed, she busied herself cleaning up the weedy garden, patching her broken fences, repairing seams in aging dresses, and securing buttons on her winter coat.
She had more time for Bible study in preparation for future Sundays and caught up on her letter writing, baked cookies for an elderly lady down the street, and sewed a new, much-needed winter skirt.
She even took time for the luxury of a few walks in the woods. Beneath her feet the fallen leaves rustled with each footfall. Above, those that remained danced joyfully in the autumn breeze. Still higher in the sky, the Canada geese honked their goodbyes in V-formation as they flew their way to warmer climates. Other birds that would stay for the winter fluttered anxiously about to locate each berry tree, each rose bush, for future use. Squirrels scolded and bush rabbits ducked for cover when they saw her coming. Emily found great pleasure in the life of the woods.
Her feet always found their way back to the same spot—the cluster of trees along the creek where she had been resting the day she met Shad Austin. The creek had slowed further with the passing of summer. In some places it barely moved at all, but here, at the place Emily was sure was a favorite fishing hole, it still gurgled and played over stones as it left the small pond. Dragonflies zoomed in and out, and hornets settled on fallen leaves to ride a moment on the water.
Emily loved this restful little hideaway. Its peace refreshed her with each visit. On some days she brought her Bible and read as she basked in the serenity. Occasionally she wondered about the man whom she’d accidentally met in that place.
Mrs. Reilly had not mentioned the young man again. Emily did not wish to pry, but she often found herself trying to imagine what had brought about the change in his life. Why had he given up his calling and seemingly deserted his faith? What had happened to both of his parents that he was alone?
When
had it happened? Emily mulled over the questions as she watched the pond’s activity.
Her thoughts always led her to prayer. Whatever the situation, she knew there was a need. She pictured the tears in Molly Reilly’s eyes and heard again the words, “It would be an answer to his mother’s prayers,” and Emily added her voice to those prayers on Shad’s behalf.
Emily met Mr. Travis for the first time when she went to get her team from the farm one day.
Claude was usually there to bring her horses. Though he was scarcely taller than Emily herself, he insisted on harnessing them. Emily allowed him to do so, assuming that he was likely being schooled by his mother to act the part of a gentleman. She had all she could do to keep from trying to help him as the lad struggled to lift the heavy harness over the backs of Star and Shadow.
On that particular day, instead of Claude, a man walked out to meet her.
“Mawnin’,” he greeted, and touched his cap.
“Good morning,” Emily responded, quickly making some deductions and extending her hand.“You’re Mr. Travis?”
The man chuckled as he shook Emily’s hand.“Been a long time since I been called mister.”
Emily didn’t quite understand his little joke, but she told him her name.
He nodded and said, “Ya wantin’ yer team?” Emily assured him that she was.
“You go on in to see the missus an’ I’ll fetch’em for ya,” he said good-naturedly and Emily agreed.
He certainly was gaunt, she noted as she moved toward the house. His whiskered face seemed to sag in where his cheeks should be, and his clothing hung on his slight frame. He walked with a slow, lumbering step, and Emily wondered if he would have the strength to make it to the barn, let alone the pasture where the horses fed.
Oh, dear,
she scolded herself,
should I be letting him exert himself
this way?
Uncertain about what to do, she went on to the house.
Mrs. Travis welcomed her and put the teakettle on to boil.
“Hope you’re not in too big a rush,” she said slowly.“Claude is off to the neighbors and Wilbur might take a while getting your team.”
“Should—should I have allowed him—?” began Emily and then changed it to, “Is he well enough to deal with the horses?”
Mrs. Travis cast a glance at Emily.“He’s fine,” she said crisply.“Best he’s been in some time.”
Oh, my,
thought Emily.
The poor man! If that is his best, he must
have really been ill.
The team eventually arrived at the door, and Emily bid Mrs. Travis goodbye and left. She felt even more concerned for the family. Over the months she had noted bruises on Mrs. Travis on more than one occasion and wondered if the woman needed to see Dr. Andrew about her continual falls.
“I do wish there were a way I could help. The poor man. Poor Mrs. Travis!” Emily said under her breath as she drove from the yard.
After that Emily often spotted Mr. Travis on the town streets. She realized she had seen him before without knowing who he was. On some days he could scarcely walk, and Emily wondered why he came into town when he was obviously so weak. Surely the man’s precarious health should be guarded carefully. If his condition continued to deteriorate, the Travis family would soon be without a father.
Emily wondered if she should speak to anyone about the situation. Surely the townspeople were aware of what was going on. Didn’t anyone care? Had anyone attempted to get help for the family? Had the man ever had medical attention?
Emily fretted but didn’t know what she could do.
Carefully Emily counted her money. She was getting awfully low on funds. The Sunday offerings she had depended on amounted to only a few coins.
What can one expect when the congregation is mostly
children?
she thought. She was very glad for the eggs and milk regularly supplied by Mrs. Reilly, but items such as salt, soap and flour had to be purchased at the mercantile. It was the lack of soap that had Emily concerned now.
Well, I must have it,
she concluded.
I can’t run around in dirty
clothes.
Emily picked up her near-empty purse and headed for the store.
“Good morning,” she greeted Big John cautiously. She had been hoping his sister would be minding the store. From the back rooms came the sound of activity, and Emily knew that Miss McMann was busy with housekeeping duties.
“Humph!” Big John snorted.
“I—I need some soap,” stated Emily, giving up on conversation.
“What kind?” he snapped.
“For my laundry,” responded Emily.
“Duz? Maple Leaf? Oxydol? Sunlight? Iv—?”
“What—which one is the cheapest?” Emily asked, embarrassed.
Big John swung around.“So ya bargain shop? Well, at least thet shows
some
sense.” If he had not emphasized “some,” Emily might have felt strangely complimented.
“How big a box?” he asked her as he reached for the soap.“Large or Family?”
“No—the—the small box—please,” said Emily, her cheeks growing hotter.
“Thought ya was bargain smart,” huffed Big John.“Now thet ain’t wise buyin’.”
“Mr.—Mr. John,” Emily said, her voice more stern than she intended, “I would love to be a wise shopper. I know that one does save more by buying the larger box, but—I—I only buy what I can afford to pay for.”
She dropped the money on his counter, spun on her heel and left the store with the soap, her head high.
How that man manages to rile me,
she fumed and then felt guilty. She was there to show love—whether people were loving in return or not. She was the one who was to be gracious and forgiving.
I’ve failed
again,
she mourned. She could never hope to win this neighbor if she responded that way. She turned around and went back into the store.
“Ferget somethin’?” Big John gruffly greeted her.
“Yes. Yes, I did,” faltered Emily, her cheeks crimson, her eyes bright with tears.“I—I forgot my manners. I forgot my Christian upbringing. My father would be embarrassed by my behavior, and I’m sure my—my heavenly Father is disappointed. I am sorry.”
By the time Emily had finished her little speech, her voice was little more than a whisper.“Please—please forgive me,” she asked, blinked back the tears, and left the man staring after her, his mouth open in astonishment.
I visited Bible school last week, Ruth wrote again, and thought you would be interested in all the news. I hardly know where to start. Each
time I heard another report about one of our classmates, I jotted it down so I wouldn’t forget to tell you.
Morris expects to leave for the mission field next May. He is so excited.
He is going to Nigeria.
Word has it that the Russells are doing well in their pastorate at Conner. They are expecting their first child next April. Guess Agatha has not been at all well, so I do hope things soon improve for her. Poor Fred has had to be preacher and nurse and housekeeper all at the same time.
Olive broke off her engagement to Ross. I heard he was devastated.
Seems that she and Robert Lee, her dear little Rob, are planning a December
wedding. Hope they make it. Maybe they deserve each other.
Another engagement has also been announced. Lacey Beckett and
Mary Frieson. I think they make a nice couple. Perhaps Mary will help
to polish him up a bit.
But the biggest surprise for me was how much he has already
changed—Lacey Beckett, our big, boyish Lacey. He seems so much more
mature. And has such concern for others. I couldn’t believe my eyes and
ears. He is still planning on the ministry, and Pearl told me that Rev.
Witt views him as the prize candidate for a new church work in the city.
In the
city,
mind you! Was a day when I thought the poor boy wouldn’t
even make it on the farm. God sure is full of surprises!
Emily had to agree.“Isn’t it amazing what God can do with a life given completely over to Him?” she murmured. Then she smiled, “Especially Lacey’s—and mine!”
Ruth had other bits of information about faculty members and people they both had known. It was a long, newsy letter and it left Emily feeling very homesick for the school and those like Miss Herrington who had nurtured and loved her.
She wiped away unbidden tears as she folded up the letter and returned it to the envelope. Then she hastened to get out her pen and writing paper. She would write to Ruth while all the news was still fresh in her mind.