To Do:
Plan another trip to town with Edith
Start canning fruits and vegetables
Make Caty a new dress
Make Genie new pants
Make something for Adam?
Millie unrolled the cradle spindles that Adam had wrapped up in a heavy cloth. Set them out on the table. Picked one up and stared at it with almost wonder. Adam had taken blocks of rough wood and made them into gleaming vines. Had spent hours and hours and hours using his knife to make tiny little cuts. Small actions that somehow transformed ordinary wood into something so beautiful it took Millie’s breath away.
In the last month, Adam had completed twenty spindles, ten for each side. He’d started the headboard piece a couple of days ago. It still mainly looked like an ordinary piece of wood to Millie but she knew that Adam saw something special underneath. He’d told Millie that he did not create so much as uncover what was already there.
Even if he wanted to make a cradle for their baby, he didn’t have to do this. He could have made a basic cradle. Something simple. It would have still been something that he made, but it wouldn’t have taken all of this time or all of this effort.
This cradle wasn’t just a place for their baby to sleep. This cradle was pure love, and not just for the baby. It was for her, too. There was no way for Millie to look at these pieces of wood and not feel like she was important. Like she was worth something.
She’d written this cradle down in her gratitude list every single day since Adam had first walked in the door with his tools. It was more than the structure. It was the time. Millie counted the time when Adam worked on the cradle as the best part of the day.
Some days he came home right after lunch, and other days he didn’t get home until suppertime. It didn’t matter. He walked in the door, usually covered in dirt. Usually drenched with sweat. But after he came in and spent time with his children, he then sat down and worked on the cradle.
If he wasn’t home when she put the children down for their nap, she spent the time knitting. And listening for the sound of Adam’s horse coming in from the fields.
Once he was there, once she wasn’t trying to listen to every sound in anticipation for his arrival, then she did any number of chores from her list while he worked. Sometimes she cooked supper. Mended clothes. Churned butter. It didn’t matter what she did, really. Millie just liked being in the same room as Adam. Liked talking with him about his day. Liked it even when they didn’t talk at all.
Millie ran her fingers over the spindles one last time and then put them back. She’d just put the kids down for their nap, and Adam could be home at any time. She sat down in her chair, pulled out her knitting and waited. This piece was a scarf for Caty. Millie planned to give it to her for Christmas. The yarn was bright red and soft.
It had been hard to get the yarn home and work it up without Caty finding it, but she had. Millie just knew that Caty was going to love it. She could wear it when winter came in with its snow and wind. It would be something to keep her warm, and remind her that she was loved.
In a way, Millie understood perfectly what Adam was doing with this cradle. She was doing the same thing with yarn. She wanted Genie and Caty to know that she loved them. That she would be with them always. She could have made Caty ten scarves in the time it took to make this one. But, she didn’t want Caty to just have any scarf. She wanted her to have this scarf.
Millie was working the hardest part of the cable pattern when she paused to listen. That was definitely the horse. Adam was home. She continued knitting until she got to a good stopping point. Millie had just marked her place when Adam came inside.
“Hi, Millie. I’m sure glad to come in the shade.”
“I’m sure you are. The sun dried my laundry in about an hour yesterday.”
“It’s a cooker, that’s for sure. I’m going to go wash my face real quick, and then I plan to steal a slice of that pie you made yesterday. I’ve been dreaming about it since I went to bed last night but I thought you’d frown at me if I ate pie instead of your eggs this morning.”
“I’m not sure eating pie for breakfast is the example we want to set for the kids. Genie will know. Even if he never hears or sees you, he will know you ate pie for breakfast. Then, he will demand the same.”
Adam chuckled as he walked into his bedroom. “Little terror.”
Adam came back out, still wiping his face off with toweling cloth. He pulled out the rough headboard and put it on the table. Adam was looking at it when he almost absently took a bite of the slice of pie and groaned in delight.
Pleasure rose up Millie’s throat, coming out of her mouth as a laugh. “If I had known you like pie this much, I would have made it before.” Her garden was doing well, and this week’s bounty had included strawberries. Lots and lots of strawberries. That, combined with the blackberries and raspberries Adam brought home from the bushes lining one of the fields, left Millie with more berries than she knew what to do with.
So, she’d decided to make pie. She’d been married for three months at this point, but had somehow never made pie. She’d made cake the first week she was here and everyone ate it. Millie was afraid to make something Adam or the children would dislike, so she had stuck to cake.
But berries had been covering every surface of Millie’s counters and all she could think about was pie. She had made jelly. Jams. And if only to get her mouth to stop watering, she had made pie.
The pie was an overwhelming success. Millie was pleased as punch and a bit chagrined with herself. Would she have spent the next 50 years never making pie because she did not know for sure that her family would like it?
She might have. But the berries had pushed her in a different direction. Adam had remarked more than once that he had never seen so many berries come in at the same time, especially with the dry soil. Millie’s current theory was that God had forced her into making pie. And thank You, Lord, for that. And the lesson. I’m paying attention, even if I am a slow learner.
Adam groaned again. “I don’t care how far I have to go or how much they cost, I’m buying you more berries when these run out. And we’re planting more next year. In fact, I am only planting berries. I’ll be the worst farmer but the happiest pie-eating man in the world. You watch and see.”
“You’re good for my ego, Adam Beale. But I bet you’ll be sick of pie by the end of the week.”
“I won’t. I’m going to sit down and cry like a baby when this pie is gone. I might even throw myself on the ground and kick my feet. I need to watch Genie the next time he’s in a temper tantrum mood and take notes. Gotta make sure I get it right.”
Millie just shook her head and put away her knitting. Christmas was months away but Caty and Genie were growing right now. They both needed new clothes, sooner rather than later. Millie got the pants she had already cut out and went back to the rocking chair with her sewing box to stitch the seams together. “I can’t believe these pants are for Genie. The legs look so long in them.”
Adam looked, shaking his head. “I think he’s going to catch up to Caty before we know it. I sometimes wonder how that one child can eat so much. The answer is in the inch he seems to gain each day.”
Adam groaned again, only this time it was a pained sound, like Adam had hurt himself. “What happened? Did you cut yourself?” Millie was up and on her way to look when Adam answered, his voice as serious as it could be.
“My pie is gone.”
She stopped and crossed her arms. “Adam Beale, you are ridiculous.”
He looked at her with a solemn face but twinkling eyes. “I take my pie very seriously, Millie.”
She shook her head in mock exasperation and sat back down. She couldn’t believe he was acting this way over a little pie. And she wished she had made it the first week they’d been married. It would have probably made things easier for them both.
His empty plate put away, Adam sat back down and pulled the headboard to him. He just sat for a few minutes, simply looking. Still.
“Is it not going okay?” she asked.
“Oh no, there’s nothing wrong. I’m just listening.”
“Um, Adam, how much sun did you get today?”
He smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “I’m perfectly sane. I have an idea of what I want this to look like when I’m done, and I’m checking to make sure it agrees with the plan.”
“You’ll, uh, let me know if it starts actually talking to you, right?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
They both worked quietly for a bit after that. Millie practically basked in the silence. These sounds were now normal. Expected. There weren’t any problems that needed to be talked through. Millie didn’t feel like she was going to say or do something wrong. They just were...together.
Oh, yes. This was the most perfect Millie’s life had ever been. Thank You, Lord. I’m afraid that this will all fall apart, but I’m trying to focus on the good. And right now in this room is the good. Even if it all ends, I will have the memory of this moment. These last weeks. Thank You, thank You, thank You.
“I have a question for you.”
She looked up, curious instead of terrified. Progress indeed. “What?”
“I thought you would maybe like to come out to the fields with me. See what I do all day. Understand why I love it.” A pause. “I’d like to share that with you.”
Adam had carefully and patiently shown Millie how all aspects of the house worked. But, the farm and ranch parts were still a mystery to her. “What about the kids?”
“They can come, too. They’ll be able to run around and play. I’m sure Genie will find something he can bang together.”
“I’d like to go, then. Thank you for asking me.” She smiled, relishing the way she felt free to tease this man. “Although, considering how often you’ve been looking for ways to come inside this week to get out of the heat, I can’t say I’m excited about your timing. Could I learn about farming in the fall?”
Adam didn’t respond to her teasing tone. He smiled, but Millie felt her heart constrict at the look on his face. “Sadly, we probably have to go this week or next. I don’t think the crops are going to make it much past that point.”
Millie didn’t know if Adam kept talking after that. Her vision blurred and her ears were ringing. Her body forced her to suck in a deep breath, and spots joined the blur in her eyes. Millie was jerked out of her stupor when the baby moved with such force that Millie thought she might fall out of the chair. Her panic was not making the baby happy.
Millie sat there with both hands on her stomach, trying to soothe the child with a low murmur. “Mama’s sorry, darling. It’s going to be okay.” Millie continued to massage her stomach, thankful it was working to calm the baby down. She looked up from her stomach when Adam’s hands joined hers, comforting the child she carried. She just looked at him, crouched there in front of her. Regret on his face.
Millie thought about how perfect the past weeks had been. They had been everything she’d ever wished for as a child. The crops were dying out there and her being upset would not change that. All she could control was how she dealt with the situation, and whether she let her fear tear her happiness in her family apart. So, she could have dead crops and have a family life like she had always dreamed of or she could have dead crops and a dead family life. When she thought about it like that, it was not a hard choice at all.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset. I guess I’d started to get so used to being happy that I didn’t remember to worry so much about the drought. I have really enjoyed our time together the past few weeks. I want that to continue. I want that kind of home for our children to grow up in.” Millie forced truth to come from her lips. “I want that kind of home for me.”
“Me too. I’m sorry I sprung that on you, but I do want you to come and see the crops. See what I do. I’m sad about the crops, but I don’t have regrets. I don’t. The farm is a form of beauty to me, and I want to share it with you.”
Millie didn’t want to do it. But, she also didn’t want to let Adam down. “Okay. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Adam nodded. He moved to sit back down in his own chair, and Millie tried not to miss the weight of his hands. He looked down at the wood he’d picked back up. Then at her. “Millie?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
* * *
Adam sat at the table, watching his children finish eating breakfast and just taking in the general atmosphere of chaos that was present whenever his family gathered together. It was noisy, messy. Really, really noisy. And incredibly messy.
And wonderful. Adam had always loved his family. He’d always loved this house. He’d always loved good food.
But the combination of all three was amazing in a way that he couldn’t explain. When Adam had decided to marry Millie, he’d told himself he was doing the best he could for his children and it would be enough. Secretly, Adam had been almost smug. Look what a good thing he was doing.
Adam watched Genie whisper into Millie’s ear, getting eggs all over her face where his hands were wrapped around her neck. He had been a fool, believing he was the generous one in the equation. He’d never realized just how much more he’d receive. That vision of the best he could do for his family was a farce. He had congratulated himself on finding a caretaker for his children, but God had seen beyond that. Given them more than they deserved. His children did not have a caretaker. They had a mother.
Adam was pleased to the depths of his gut to be so very, very wrong. Wrong about what life with Millie could be. And wrong about what couldn’t be fixed. Adam had spent hours on his knees last night, thinking he had ruined it with his clumsy mouth. Had scoured his Bible this morning for some way to take last night back. To have told Millie about the dying crops in a gentler way. But the solution didn’t come from him or his efforts. Millie came out from behind that closed door this morning, eyes red from crying, and she had acted normally. Excited about the day, even though she was probably dreading it. She had fixed it. Not him. Grace and forgiveness tasted like pie this morning.
They finished breakfast, and Adam cleaned up the kitchen while Millie cleaned up Genie. He had the easier task. Done, they left for the fields.
It was early yet, far earlier than the children usually woke. The sun was just rising, and the sky was nothing but pink and blue and promise. This time of day almost felt holy to Adam.
Adam stopped walking, feeling Millie stop next to him. The land was primarily flat, but there were gentle hills. They were on top of one and it offered a fairly good view of bigger fields.
“When I first bought this land, this was all wild ground. Brush and weeds and general mess. Sarah told me I was crazy.” Adam saw for a moment the way it had looked back then. “But I was excited, you know? Excited for the chance to take that and turn it into something.”
“Sarah didn’t want you to be a farmer? Didn’t want to move here?”
Oh, that was a question. Adam sighed. “I met her when I lived in the city. She’d never lived on a farm but when I told her my future plans she agreed.” How much to tell? How much would be enough for them to stop this seesaw thing they were doing?
“She tried. It took me a few years after her death to understand that, but she did try. Sarah just wasn’t happy with this life. I didn’t realize how different living out here would be from living in the city.”
“Was she afraid the crops would die? That you all would lose the farm?”
That was what Millie was afraid of. That was a logical fear, in Adam’s estimation, because the risk was real. It was there. It wasn’t enough to stop Adam from continuing to be a farmer, but no one would say Millie was crazy for being afraid.
“No. I don’t think so. Funny enough, I’m not sure it ever occurred to her that I might fail.”
“She believed in you. I’m... I’m sorry. It must feel like I don’t.”
Adam turned, wanted to pull Millie into his arms, resisted. “No, Millie. Please.” The seesaw was in motion again, and this thing between them was heading back down to the ground. They needed to get off the contraption for good. The kids were screaming and running, chasing each other in the tall grass. Well out of earshot.
“She left me, Millie. Left us.”
Millie gasped.
“She was not happy being a farm wife. She did not enjoy being stuck so far away from people. She did not like me coming home covered in dirt. She wasn’t worried about the farm or me or even her own children. She was worried about herself.”
“She...she left you? Left? As in left?”
Millie sounded like she could in no way comprehend the very word. Adam felt shame at ever having thought that Millie would do the same.
“She did. I don’t want to really talk about it, but the short version is that I came home and found the kids alone. There was a goodbye note. I went to find her, to bring her back, and I succeeded, eventually. But by the time I caught up with her she was sick. Really sick. She died two days later.”
The kids began to run their way, and Adam felt his muscles turn to stone. They veered off again and he forced himself to relax. Swallowed and looked at Millie.
She was watching the kids and a single tear was rolling down her cheek. “She left the children?”
Adam swallowed again. “She did.” And him. Sarah had also left him.
“I could never leave the children, Adam. I hope you know that.”
Adam was done talking about his greatest failure. This whole idea, this whole yearning to bring her out here and show her the fields was because Adam wanted Millie to see the ground he loved. Wanted to share it with her.
He was so tired of dramatic conversations. Adam was ready for steady. Uneventful. Routine. Farming was all about rhythms and cycles. Predictable repetition.
“It took me months to clear the land,” he said, relieved when she didn’t interrupt him or question the change in subject. “I started up there, because that seemed to be where the ground was the rockiest. I thought if I did the hardest part first, the rest would seem easy.” He pointed as he spoke.
Millie looked out to where he had indicated, shielding her eyes with her hand. “What time of year was it?”
She was willing to move along, too. Adam felt victory in his blood.
“Well, I bought the land in winter. It was covered in snow and looked just about perfect. The man who sold it to me was honest about what I would find when the snow cover melted, but I didn’t exactly believe him.”
“You thought he would make his land sound worse than it actually was?” She was teasing him again.
“I know, that sounds ridiculous, but I had this romantic idea in my head. Needless to say, the snow melted and I was faced with reality. And reality was a lot rockier and thornier than I’d imagined.”
Millie laughed, lowering her hand to cover her mouth and muffle the sound. “Oh, Adam. I wish I could have seen your face.”
“Well, no one could see my face under all the dirt and blood for a good long while after that. Did I mention the thorns?”
Millie didn’t even try to muffle her laughter this time. Adam highly suspected the Potters could hear it from their place. It was a beautiful sound, the kind of happy that made others want to come and soak it in. Both children ran up toward her, moving as fast as their little legs would carry them.
“Millie, Millie! What’s so funny?” Caty came to a stop right in front of Millie, managing to say one word in between each puff of breath.
Genie didn’t stop until he ran full force into Millie. “Mama!”
Adam hustled to get behind Millie and take the brunt of Genie’s impact, keeping her from falling to the ground. Even so, she made an oof sound that sent Adam’s blood racing.
“Eugene Robert Beale.”
Everyone’s smiles disappeared at Adam’s tone. Genie stepped back from Millie, his lower lip wobbling.
Millie tried to reach out for Genie, her tone almost pleading. “I’m okay, Adam. He didn’t do it on purpose and he didn’t hurt me.”
“Eugene, come here right now.” Adam moved from behind Millie and pointed to a spot in front of where he was now standing. The boy complied, though that wobble increased and tears were welling up in his eyes. Adam squatted down until he was level with his son. “I know you did not mean to, but you hurt Mama. You could have really hurt her and the new baby.”
“Sorrrrrrry!” The word was a wail as the tears began to pour down his face. Adam felt terrible, but his little boy needed to learn to not always be so rough with things. And people. He was only going to get bigger and stronger, and he needed to learn this lesson now.
Adam put his hands on Genie’s shoulders but did not pull him for a hug or wipe away the tears. Not yet. “I know you are sorry. But, sorry won’t fix it if you hurt someone. Genie, you need to be careful. Be gentle.”
“I will.” He was nodding his head emphatically as he spoke, every bit of his demeanor relaying his sincerity.
“Okay.” Adam pulled the boy into his arms and stood, rubbing his back as Genie’s hot breath and hot tears almost seemed to burrow in his neck. Millie came forward, rubbing Genie’s back and leaning in to whisper that she loved him.
Genie sat up and looked at her. “Sorry, Mama.”
“Oh, honey, it’s okay.” She smiled and it only looked a little bit forced. “It’s a good thing Daddy is so fast and strong, isn’t it? I bet you’ll be just like him someday.”
Genie nodded and leaned over to give Millie a hug. Millie reached to take Genie completely out of Adam’s arms. Adam hesitated, unsure she needed to be holding someone so heavy this far into her pregnancy. He reconsidered in a hurry when he saw the look she was giving him. Millie looked almost ready to fight him for Genie.
Adam let go and Millie walked a few steps away, snuggling Genie and whispering in his ear. Caty wandered after her, not saying anything, just standing a few feet away. Millie set Genie down and moved to her knees. She whispered to both kids, and they giggled. Then, as one, both Caty and Genie turned and ran as fast they could. Millie watched them, smiling, until Caty reached a tree in the distance and started yelling that she won.
They quickly became engrossed in a game of tag, and Millie tried to get up off the ground. Adam came to her side, ready to help her. She ignored his hand, and tried again. Then, she just sat down all the way, leaning back on her hands.
They were at it again, but this time the conflict didn’t feel like being stuck on a child’s seesaw. This felt like the same kind of mad Adam had witnessed between his mother and father.
“Millie, I can’t just let him run into people full force. He needs to learn to think.”
Her voice when she replied was cold, even though Adam could see sweat running down her neck. “He’s just a little boy. He was excited. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“He needs to learn to control himself.”
“I say he was fine.”
Adam looked at her, exasperated. “If I hadn’t been there, he would have knocked you completely to the ground, Millie. Not on purpose, I know. But, still. He’s old enough to control his body.”
“You were mean to him.”
“No. I was a father to him.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t like it.”
She sounded petulant. From the way she forced herself to uncross the arms that had somehow crossed when she was talking, Millie realized it, too.
“Of course you didn’t.”
The arms recrossed and petulance changed into anger complete with narrowed eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll always be on his side. You’re his mother.” He left it at that.
Millie stared at him hard for a second. Adam tried to resist smiling as an embarrassed flush seemed to bloom from her neck up to her cheeks. “Yeah, well, don’t you forget it.”
He wouldn’t. But would she remember that she was also his wife? And did he want her to?