A Winter's Promise (24 page)

But before she could finish, Al came back and
sat
down
with his long arm draped over the accordion.
“
I
know I
’
m not much of a musician,
”
he said with a
chuckle,
“
but I never made anyone cry before.
”

Jenny smiled.
“
Oh, I like your playing. I really do.
It
’
s
just that it
’
s so—so different. When you said music,
I thoug
ht of my
family gathered around
the organ s
inging
hymns.
”

“
What were some of them?
”
Emma asked softly.

“
Oh,
‘
Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine
’
and
‘
Just As I
Am Without One Plea.”

“
We know those, don
’
t we, Al?”

He nodded and tried to play
“
Blessed Assurance,
”
but there were so many sour notes they all laughed.
“
I guess I
’
ll have to practice that. Let
’
s just try it without the ac
cordion.
”
He threw back his head and began to sing.
Emma and Jenny joined him with their high, sweet
voices, but Jenny ended up singing the second verse
alone, because Al and Emma didn
’
t know all
the
words.

“
I think I know all of
‘
Just As I Am
’
,
”
Emma said,
and took the lead.

When they finished, Al asked,
“
Do you know
‘
Jesus, Lover of My Soul
’
?
”

Jenny began to sing and the others joined her.

The children sat on the floor in rapt attention. Emma smiled at Al, who had noticed Jenny
’
s radiant face just
as
she
had.
I wish this moment could last forever,
she
thought.

The clock struck eight.
“
Time for bed,
Kinder
!
”

“
Aw ... !
”
they protested.

“
Could we sing
‘
Savior, Breathe an Evening Bless
ing
’
?
”
Emma asked.
“
Do you know it, Jenny?
”

Jenny smiled and began softly singing as Al and
Emma harmonized.

Now it was Emma
’
s turn to blink hard as the song ended, and she laid sleeping Georgie in the cradle.

Eyes glowing, Jenny quickly said good night and went upstairs.

“
Into
bed now!
”
Al ordered. As the children scam
pered off, he smiled down at Emma.

She leaned her head on his chest and sighed as his
arms enfolded her.
“
Let
’
s do that more often,
”
she whispered.

Sunday, afternoon Emma
finished packing
A1
’s
clothes to take back to camp. She glanced at
the clock.
Only a little over an hour and he
’
d have to
leave again.
It seem
ed as though he had just gotten home. Where
had the day g
one? Al had worked in the barn
a good
share of the time, the boys with him. Jenny had insisted
on helping Emma wherever she could.

Emma smiled as she watched Jenny carefully get up from the rocker with baby George in
her arms
and put him in his cradle.

Ellie tottered out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes.
“
Papa? Papa?
”

“
Papa
’
s outside,
”
Emma assured her, hugging he
r
close and kissing her warm cheek.

When Emma put her down, Jenny wh
ispered,
“
Would it be all right if I took her for a sleigh ride?
There
’
s hardly any wind.
”

“
I suppose so. But shouldn
’
t you stay in with that
cough?
”

Jenny shook her head.
“
I
’
m fine. It
’
s so nice outside.
The boys can come, too.
”

Emma bundled Ellie up, and Jenny carried her out
and pu
t her on the little wooden sled.
She called to the
boys, who were chasing each other around the wood
shed, and they all started down the road.

“
I think Jenny took the children just to give us a little
time to talk,
”
Emma said, when Al came in and sat
down to have a cup of coffee.

He stirred his coffee thoughtfully.
“
Maybe I should
have gone to see Pa today about helping her.
”

Emma shook her head.
“
Wouldn
’
t have done any
good.
”

Al chuckled.
“
You
’
re right.
”

“
Do you think Mr. Gross will get the school board
riled up about the cold schoolroom?
”

Al shrugged.
“
Wouldn
’
t take much to get the Schufts
to side with them.
”

Emm
a went
to get
hot coffee.

They were silent a moment; then Emma said,
“
I feel
like I
’
m walking on eggs
—
any day she
’
ll decide it
’
s too hard and move back to Grandpa
’
s.
”

“
No sense worrying,
”
Al said. He told Emma about
the stock and what she should do while he was gone.

All too soon Jenny and the children burst in the door,
rosy cheeked and breathless.

Ellie, who had been all smiles, burst into tears when
Al put on his coat
and shouldered his pack.

While he tried to comfort her, Jenny pulled Emma aside.
“
I
’
ll watch the children if you
’
d like to walk a ways with him.
”

“
Oh! Yes!
”
Emma said and went to put on her overshoes and coat.

They walked in silence, Emma dreading the moment
when Al would have to go on and she would be left to
turn back to the house.
“
It
’
ll be pitch dark before you get
to the train,
”
she said.

“
That doesn
’
t bother me. There
’
ll be four or five of us
hiking together before we get to Ogema.
”
He looked up
at the clear sky and the almost full moon.
“
See! There will be moonlight.
”

Emma
’
s teeth chattered.
“
It
’
s getting awfully cold!
”

“
I
’
m not cold. You
’
re just not used to being outdoors
like I am.
”
He put his arm around her.
“
You
’
re shivering.
You
’
d better go back now.
”

He pulled her close and she clung to him, cheek
against his rough wool coat. She lifted her face for his
kiss.

“
Hurry back in now!
”
Al said huskily as he released
her. He kissed her once more and said,
“
Go now,
Liebchen!
”

Emma turned around once. He looked back and called,
“
Don
’
t worry!
”

All she could hear as she walked was the cold snow
squeaking under her feet. At first she thought about Al
and how much she loved him, and then
her thoughts
swung back to her main concern.
What will I do
if
Jenny
leaves? There could still be weeks of cold weather.
Why
doesn
’
t Grandpa think of helping her? He knows
she’s
in that cold schoolhouse every morning.

But not once did she consider praying, not
ev
en
when she went to bed that night.

Monday morning Emma lovingly washed Jenny
’
s
white blouses and black poplin skirt. Earlier that morning she had
asked Jenny if she could do any
laundry for her.

“
I didn
’
t expect to have laundry service when I came here,
”
Jenny had said.
“
But I
’
d certainly appreciate
it. Evenings and Saturdays go so fast.
”

“
It
’
s a fair trade,
”
Emma had replied.
“
You didn
’
t
expect to take care of the children as much as you
do, either.
”

When she finished washing the blouses she
wrung them in tight little rolls, washed the rest of
the white clothes, and then rubbed Jenny
’
s skirt on
the washboard, carefully turning it this way and
that. She wrung it, too, and laid it beside the blouses while she fixed the rinse water.

Then she put the blouses back into clean water to be rinsed. Oh, no! Emma couldn
’
t believe her eyes!
Where one blouse had touched the black skirt,
there were ugly blue-black marks!

Quickly she put soap on the blouse and swished
it in the water, aware that she would have to
change the rinse water again. Hardly daring to
breathe, she scrubbed the spots.
They didn’
t
budge. She
scrubbed as hard as she dared without making a hole in
the fabric, but it was no use! If it were summer, she
could lay the blouse in the sun, but what could she do
now?

Vinegar! I
’
ll
try
vinegar.
Carefully she laid the spotted
section in a dish of vinegar and left it to soak a few min
utes. The spots were as dark as ever. She couldn
’
t think
of anything else to try, so she rinsed it in fresh water and
hung it up to dry.

Emma finished the laundry, feeling shaky and sick.
How would she tell Jenny?

Well,
she sighed.
There go our pleasant evenings. It
could take her till spring to get over this. If only I had
been more careful.
She could hear her father
’
s gruff
voice.
“
Saying
‘
I
’
m sorry
’
won
’
t make the corn grow
back,
”
he had said the time she had carelessly left the
gate open, and the cows had trampled and torn down rows and rows of corn.

If only Pa had said,
“
I forgive you. I know you
’
re sor
ry,
”
but he hadn
’
t. For days he wouldn
’
t even look at
her, much less talk to her. Eventually he had forgotten
about it and talked to her, and even joked with her again. But it had taken a long time.

She imagined Jenny tight-lipped and silent all through supper and the rest of the evening.

Anger, so overwhelming it frightened her, welled up
inside, and she was glad she was going out to water the
stock.
“
Why,
”
she demanded of the gray sky,
“
are there
such words as
I
’
m sorry
and
forgive me
if they don
’
t work?
”

One hopeful thought surfaced as she plodded back to
the house.
Maybe the spots won
’
t show when the
blouse
is dry.
Spots
always show more when cloth is wet.

But the little flame of hope went out like a match by
an open door when she got back in the house. The spots
were as dark and ugly as ever, though the blouse was
nearly dry.

Emma knew Jenny sensed that something
was w
rong
before she had finished her syrup bread.
I might as well
get it over with,
she told herself, as she took the
blouse
off the clothes rack behind the stove and brought
it to
Jenny.

“
I know it doesn
’
t help to say I
’
m sorry, but I
am.”
Emma
’
s voice broke.

“
How did it happen?
”
Jenny asked quietly as
she ex
amined the spots.

When Emma explained, Jenny said,
“
It
’
s funny,
I
haven
’
t done that myself. I
’
ve done so many other
stu
pid things. Don
’
t feel bad, Emma.
I
’
ll
wear
it around the
house, if you don
’
t mind looking at the stains.
”

Jenny hung the blouse back up to finish drying
and
began talking to the children as though nothing
had
happened.

Emma waited, tense-jawed.
Surely she
’
ll suddenly
re
alize that her good blouse is ruined, and then she
’
ll be
angry.
Emma had never known anyone not to be angry
in a similar situation, not even Al. Although Al didn
’
t
stay sullen like her parents, it always took h
im
a while
to get over something she had done wrong.

But instead of ignoring Emma, Jenny put her arm
around her shoulders and said,
“
Come! Sit down a min
ute. I have something to tell you.
”

Jenny
’
s sparkling eyes banished all Emma
’
s dread.

When they were settled at the table, Jenny said,
“
I
could hardly wait to tell you. This morning I saw smoke
coming out of the chimney before I got to school. I al
most ran the rest of the way. Can you believe it—there
was Grandpa Verlege
r stuffing wood in the stove! I could have hugged him!
”

Emma
’
s jaw dropped.
“
What did he say? Why did he—?
”

“
He said he couldn
’
t stand to think of me in that cold
schoolhouse
one more morning. And,
wait
till
yo
u hear this!
When he discovered there was hardly any kindling
left, he went home and got a big arm load of his own and brought it over. He said he
’
ll bring all I need this
year.
”

“
Emma
’
s mouth hung open, but Jenny chattered on.
“
He insisted that I come home with him until the room
warmed up. Oh, Emma! Grandma Verleger tried so hard
to be pleasant. She poured me a cup of real coffee—she
always made barley coffee when I boarded there—and served it in a pretty china cup with roses on it. They
didn
’
t say so, but it was plain to see they missed me.
”

Emma shook her head in amazement.

“
And that
’
s not all! Grandpa insisted that he
’
ll start
the fire every morning, so I don
’
t have to come so early,
and I
’
m to come to their
house whenever I want to un
til
the schoolhouse gets warm.
”

She grabbed both Emma
’
s hands.
“
Emma! Do you
see?
God has answered my prayers!
He
changed Grand
pa
’
s heart.
”
She released Emma
’
s hands and sat back
with a sigh.
“
I knew He would.
”

Emma couldn
’
t find words. She simply nodded and
blinked back tears. She went about the evening
’
s work
in a blissful daze.
Jenny would be staying! There was no
need to worry. God does answer prayers. Grandpa actual
!y changed his mind.

When the
children
were in bed, and the two women
had settled down to read, Emma said,
“
I just can
’
t believe you aren
’
t mad at me about your blouse.
”

“
Oh, Emma! I know you didn
’
t do it purposely. And
even if you had, I
’
d still forgive you.
”

Emma
’
s eyes widened.
“
You would? How could
you?
”

“
Christians don
’
t have a choice. We must forgive.
”

“
Must?
”

“
Of course. In the Lord
’
s Prayer, don
’
t we ask God to
forgive us the way we forgive others? Doesn
’
t that mean
that if
we
do
n
’
t forgive
others, we can
’
t expect
God
to
forgive us?
”

“
Oh, my goodness!
”
Emma
’
s knitting lay idle.
”
I
nev
er thought of that.
”

“
After all, God forgives us when we tell
Him we’re
sorry and turn away from what we
’
ve done
wrong
, and
purpose not to do it again.
”
Jenny paged through
her
Bible and read,
“
If we
confess our sins, he is faithfu
l
and
just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from
righteousness.
”

“
Where does it say that?
”

Jenny held the Bible so Emma could see for
herself.
“
Right here in the ninth verse of the first chapter of
the
first letter of John.
”

Emma
’
s thoughts whirled. Did that mean God
for
gave right away? Could she risk telling Jenny
how she
had been angry with God? She couldn
’
t imagine
Je
nny
ever doubting God or refusing to pray, because He
didn’t
do things the way she thought He should. How
long
would it take God to forget how she had acted
to
Him? How would
she know when it was all right to
come to Him again?

Jenny was talking, but Emma was busy
thinking.