Twenty-seven

Why had he said that about a sign? For months Will had despaired of his prayers rising above the ceiling and now he was asking for a sign from the Lord. Next thing he’d be laying out a fleece like Gideon in the Bible. And then doing it again, as though he couldn’t be sure of the Lord’s answer the first time.

But a little help from the Lord would be good. Will had been about to jump out of his skin ever since he stepped into Ruth’s yard. It was good Louis was there to give Will time to settle his nerves. But then he’d been tongue-tied about introducing Willie to Ruth. Even in his worst moments, he generally had no problem spitting out words. But having Willie in his care changed everything for him, and he feared it would change the sweet beginnings of the attraction between him and Ruth. Not for him, but for her.

She had been so lovely standing there, her cheeks flushed by the heat of her kitchen, her lips curled up in a smile that became a bit hesitant as she looked at Willie. Then perhaps it was only his doubt that had put up the wall of silence between them after Louis left with his basket of baked goods. Will was relieved when Ruth spoke first.

That had brought words from him he’d had no intention of speaking. A proposal, of all things. Not that he wanted to take it back. Instead he wanted to see yes in her eyes. He wanted to know how she felt in his arms. To touch his lips to hers.

He had raced ahead like a runaway horse with no thought of the fences he might crash into.

Instead of yes he’d seen surprise, followed by uncertainty in her eyes. He imagined the same might be reflected back to her from his own eyes. Even if he was the one doing the asking. It was something he had never planned to ask again. Ever. After Mary’s death, he pledged to live a single life. Loving someone the way he loved Mary opened up a man to too much pain.

For over two years, he had been satisfied with his solitary life, muddling along helping others if he could, studying the Bible to share the gospel and to attempt to strengthen his wavering faith. But then he met Ruth and his life became a lonely desert. Perhaps he was meant to be alone, but could it be the Lord had brought him to Springfield for other purposes? What was it Louis had said? That the good Lord could work in mysterious ways. Had the Lord brought Will here not only to help free Louis but to start a new life with Ruth?

That might be up to the woman standing in front of him, slight furrows between her eyes as she considered his words.

“What sort of sign?” she asked, as if she really wanted to know what he, as a man of God, meant.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“You don’t think the Lord sends signs?” Her frown grew more pronounced.

“Not every time, any more than he answers every prayer as we wish.” He wanted to pick up Willie, go back out to the street to start over. Knock on Ruth’s front door again and hope he didn’t make such a mess of it all.

“But we continue to pray and hope for guidance.”

“We do.”

She looked away from him, then toward Willie, who paid them no attention as she happily ran about the yard.

After a long moment, Ruth turned back to Will. “Peter saw signs in everything. As much preacher as teacher, he was attuned to whatever the Lord wanted to speak to him. I leaned on his faith and then he died. His death seemed wrong, as though the Lord had somehow played a cruel trick on us. On me.” She rushed on as though worried he would take offense at her words. “I know that’s not right, but it was a desperate time for me.”

“I understand desperation and loss.”

“Of course you do.” Her eyes softened on him. “But then the Lord did send me signs. Louis brought me Adria. I was encouraged to teach at the school in Peter’s place. Life went on. I couldn’t stop living. Or believing.”

“But you never married again. I’m sure you had opportunities.” Many opportunities, he thought. It would be good to know why she turned them aside, even as he hoped she would not as summarily turn him aside.

“None I wanted to entertain. Adria and I were all right on our own. With the Lord’s help, of course.”

“I’m not all right on my own. I thought I would be, but even before my sister’s husband brought me Willie, I wasn’t all right. I need a helpmate. Willie merely made that need more acute.”

“What sort of helpmate?” Ruth lifted her eyebrows in question. “Are you proposing a marriage of convenience?” Her cheeks reddened, but her gaze didn’t waver.

“That would not be my first choice.” He’d gone this far, he might as well be truthful. Still, she might not have the same feeling, so he went on. “But if it is a choice that suits you, then we could have such an arrangement. If you have a couch.”

“I rather doubt it would be long enough for you.” A little smile sneaked into her eyes.

“I am rather used to that. I haven’t had a bed long enough since I was fourteen.”

The smile spilled out of her eyes down to her lips. “What did you tell Willie when she asked why you were so tall?”

“That the Lord made me that way.” Her smile gave him hope. “The same as he gave me a heart that needs to love again.”

Her smile faded. “Then perhaps we should wait and pray for that sign.”

“If that is what you want. I can wait and pray.” He could give her time. As much as she needed if the answer turned out to be yes. He wouldn’t think about any other answer. Not after baring his heart to her. “But meanwhile, would you have a loaf of bread I can buy? Willie says she likes biscuits, but I fear my cooking skills are lacking. So I am hoping bread and butter will be an acceptable substitute.”

Her smile came back. “Of course. Let me get that and I’ll add a few cookies as a treat for you both.” She turned to go back in the house.

“Ruth.” The sound of her name surprised them both. It was Willie calling out as she ran straight toward Ruth across the yard with a few dandelion blooms clutched in her hand. “Ruth. Dandy flowers.”

Ruth stooped down in front of Willie. “For me?”

Willie nodded and held out the flowers. The heads of a couple of the dandelions were already drooping and another barely had a stem to hold. But Willie looked very pleased with her bouquet.

“Thank you.” Ruth opened her hand to receive the flower gift.

“I like dandy flowers.” Willie looked from the dandelions to stare at Ruth’s face as only a small child can. “Do you?”

“I do.” Ruth smiled at her.

“Mama Hazie likes flowers. She got sick, so Daddy A brought me here. He told me not to cry, but I miss Mama Hazie.”

Willie’s bottom lip jutted out and a tear slid down her cheek. Will wanted to go comfort her, but he stayed where he was. It seemed a moment between Willie and Ruth he shouldn’t disturb.

“Sometimes it’s hard not to cry.” Ruth’s voice was soft and a little shaky, as though she were near tears herself. “But God gave us tears because he knew that sometimes we would need to let out some of our sadness.”

Willie’s lips quivered then and more tears came. Will started to reach for her, but Ruth opened her arms to the child first. Without a second’s hesitation, Willie stepped into Ruth’s embrace. Ruth sat back on the steps and pulled her up into her lap as the child sobbed.

“It’s going to be all right, Willeena.” Tears wet Ruth’s cheeks as she kissed the top of Willie’s head.

Will gently touched Willie’s back. His heart seemed to be swelling too big for his chest, and then his own eyes were awash with tears.

Ruth looked up at him. “Sit with us, Will.”

He settled on the steps beside her and his child. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to put his arms around them both and hold them.

Perhaps shared tears were the sign he’d asked from the Lord.

Ruth watched Will and his daughter leaving. The little girl’s head was barely above Will’s knee as she clung to his hand and took three steps to his one. She was smiling again, her tears forgotten in an instant, as only possible for someone that young. Two and a half, Will said. Her language skills were advanced for her age.

Just before they turned the corner out of sight, Willeena twisted around without letting go of her father’s hand to wave. Her face was still tear-streaked, but her smile was as bright as the dandelions she’d brought Ruth.

She gathered up the little flowers that she’d dropped on the porch while she held the sobbing child. The yellow petals were curling in, already losing their brightness.

The child calling her name and running toward her with the little bouquet had seemed the sign Will said they needed. But then, perhaps the wilted flowers were the sign instead. Fading so quickly. Even if she put them in water, which she would, they wouldn’t regain the beauty they showed blooming amid the green grass of the yard.

Other dandelions were scattered about like sun drops in the yard. They bloomed low to the ground, but then their fluff balls shot up in the air for the wind to catch their seeds. Nature’s way of ensuring the cycle of life continued.

That could be her sign. She shook her head. Was she going to see signs in everything? Bright flowers. Wilted flowers. Flower seeds. Or perhaps she didn’t need to see signs like that. She could simply remember the good feel of Will sitting beside her, his arms encircling both her and his child. The tears they’d shared. The way her heart had bounded up in her throat when he had said he needed a wife. He needed her.

Yes had been on the tip of her tongue, but she hadn’t let it out into the air between them. She had to be sensible. She needed to think. Watch for signs. Wonder what those signs meant.

Inside, the kitchen was still stifling, even though she had finished her baking for the day and the fires were dying out. She would keep a few coals banked in the ashes in order to heat the ovens again come morning for the next batch of baking. The same routine every day when school was not in session. Up early to bake and then other chores or sewing in the afternoon. Sometimes she had to fetch supplies or make deliveries. Now and again, she gave herself the gift of reading or writing poetry.

She and Adria had long been settled into that routine. Just the two of them. As she told Will, they had managed. Without a male presence in their house. Did she want to change that now? Whether she chose to or not, change would come. Adria would marry and start her own family. Perhaps with Carlton. Perhaps with someone else.

Then Ruth would be alone. A woman widowed for many more years than she’d been married. That made her feel old. Yet that morning she had welcomed the joy that was awakening in her heart. A new love in the offing. What about the promise becoming a reality made her tremble? It was so sudden.

He needed a mother for his child. But that hadn’t been all. He said he needed a helpmate. For himself as well as the child. The thoughts circled in her head as she washed her baking dishes.

After she finished cleaning up the kitchen, she hung up her apron and went into the sitting room. Her eyes went to the couch. She couldn’t keep from smiling at the thought of Will trying to sleep there. No way could he fit.

But could he fit in her bed? Could she after twelve years of widowhood welcome a man back into her bed? The thought sent a tingle through her. A not completely uncomfortable tingle. She was only thirty-two.

Are you proposing a marriage of convenience? She’d asked the question. He’d answered, his eyes saying more than his words. Not his first choice, but if it was hers . . .

She looked at the couch again. She would fit. Easily. Will and his daughter could have her bedroom. She pulled in the reins of her runaway thoughts. She hadn’t said yes to any sort of marriage. Or to being the mother of yet another motherless child.

But the very memory of the child cuddled in her arms brought a sweet smile. She went into her bedroom to her desk. Perhaps she could still capture a bit of the poem that had wanted to spring from her thoughts as she looked at the morning sky. But before she picked up her pen, she laid her hand on Peter’s Bible. Through the years his Bible had continually been a comfort. She never opened it without remembering how Peter depended on the Lord, using the Scriptures to guide him in all he did. In all they did. Even at the end when every word became a struggle, he had spoken the words from Psalm 23. Yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil.

As she had many times since Peter died, Ruth opened the Bible and leafed through pages. She stopped at Isaiah 30, where Peter had marked verse 21.

And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, “This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.”

“But I don’t hear your voice.”

The words ran through her mind. Did you not hear me in that child speaking your name? And catch a glimpse of me in the flowers she brought you?

“Doesn’t your word also say to wait on the Lord?” she whispered.

Ruth stood still and listened. Maybe not for an audible answer, but she didn’t doubt the Lord could put that word in her mind. Or in front of her in the Scriptures. She ran her hand across the Bible page as though she could absorb the verses’ wisdom through her fingertips.

She closed the Bible and then hugged it against her breast. How many times had she done so since Peter died? Perhaps too many times. Was she still leaning on Peter’s faith? It could be she needed to step up to the Lord’s throne on her own as a beloved child of God and trust him to direct her steps.

She put down the Bible and pulled a straight chair up to the desk. She picked up her pen and dipped it in the pot of ink.

Joy cometh in the morning. She wrote the Scripture words that had come to her that morning with the sun. She stared at those words of promise until they blurred on the page. Could she open her heart and her arms to that promise?

She turned to look at her bed. She couldn’t help but smile. Will was right. It wouldn’t be long enough for him either, but he could adapt. She could adapt. More telling, she wanted to find ways to adapt.

Suddenly she could hardly wait for the afternoon to pass for it to be time to go to church. So that she could see Will. And Willeena. Another woman’s child, but such a very sweet one. Had not Adria been a blessing sent to Ruth from tragedy? Willeena was the same. A child without a mother.

This is the way, walk ye in it.