Rekindled Love Read online

  “You slept the clock around,” his mother said.

  “Twenty-four hours? I’ve got to feed my livestock.”

  “Your father and Seth went over to take care of everything. They should be back anytime.”

  “That’s just plain wrong; they shouldn’t be doing my work.”

  “You’re right, but that’s what family does. They take care of their own.”

  “I know what you’re saying. I should be taking care of my family and I didn’t.”

  “What happened with Jenny was not your fault. What is happening with Becky is. The question remains, what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m going to get the house straightened up and I’m going to take my daughter home.”

  “No lecture this time. Just some motherly advice. During your planting and harvest time, you can’t do that by yourself. The rest of the time you can. Clara will help with Becky. So will I. You have to be in charge and involved.”

  The back door opened and his father and brother walked in. Ben said, “Seth, I apologize for the way I acted, and I appreciate what you and Leroy did. Also, thank you for taking care of the livestock. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’d do the same for me,” Seth replied.

  “Pa, thank you. I’m embarrassed you saw the way I’ve been living. I know you and Mama are disappointed in me, but I’ll make it up to you.”

  Isaac bear-hugged him. “You lost someone very important to you, and then you lost your way. We’ll help you get back on the path.”

  “Whoa, Pa. Back up the wagon, Pa,” Seth said. “There’s no way I’m setting foot in that place the way it is.”

  “I don’t blame you. Maybe Ben can hire some help.”

  “No,” Ben said fiercely. “I messed it up and I’ll clean it up, as soon as I talk to the Stevens’ and visit Becky. After I get it clean, I’m taking Becky home where she belongs.”

  “You’ll have help if you need it. I took a look at your fields. They’re ready for the fall planting, but it’s a little early yet to put seed in the ground.”

  “I’m going in to Roseburg. Does anyone need anything?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you,” Alice said.

  “It’s not necessary, Ma. I’ll take what’s coming.”

  “I’d like to see my granddaughter. It’s been almost two weeks, and the way she’s growing, I don’t want to miss anything.”

  Ben saw through the statement to her concern, and she knew it. “Yes ma’am. You’re welcome to come.”

  * * *

  The Stevens’ farm…

  “Come in. Come in,” Clara said. “Jeb’s out in the field. Ben, you look a little peaked. Have you been sick?”

  “Yes , ma’am, in the head.”

  Clara’s face revealed her puzzlement at the strange remark.

  “I don’t know what happened to me. Since Jenny di… Since I lost Jenny, I’ve been out of it. I’ve let you and my family down, but most of all, I let Becky down. I apologize to you, Miz Clara, and I thank you for all you and Mr. Jeb have done for me and for Becky. I do appreciate it.”

  “Did you come to take Becky?”

  “No, ma’am, not yet. I came to apologize and to ask your indulgence. Our house is a mess right now, and I’d like to ask you to watch Becky until planting is past. Then I can take care of her. I will come over to see her as often as I can, but it will be at least four times a week. I made a promise to Jenny and I haven’t lived up to it. I will do that now and in the future.”

  Clara had tears in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, not that she’s a problem, far from it, but she needs her papa in her life.”

  “Could I see her?”

  “She’s in Jenny’s room, probably asleep, but you can do what I do. I sit and watch her sleep. She looks so much like Jenny, it just tears at my heart every time I look at her. Go on back.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  * * *

  “He looks bad,” Clara said.

  “He blames himself for Jenny catching pneumonia. I think he’s been trying to work himself to death. He’s plowed the entire farm according to Leroy and Seth. I sent them to find him since I hadn’t seen him since the funeral. They told me his house was in horrible shape. When they brought him home, I made him take a bath. He went to sleep and slept all day and night. I hope he’s straight now, but I don’t know. I just don’t know. I appreciate you letting him come see Becky.”

  “Well of course he can see her. She is his daughter. I don’t know that we would have let him take her though.”

  “Mama, look what I found. She was sitting up in the bed playing. She remembers me,” he said, brushing the tears away.

  “Can Grandmama hold you?” Alice asked.

  Becky turned her head back into Ben’s neck. “Do you want down?” he asked and started to put her on the floor. She wrapped her chubby arms around his neck, not about to leave her papa.

  “She does look like her mama,” Alice said.

  Clara smiled. “The spitting image of Jenny when she was that age. Becky, did you show your papa your doll?”

  She clambered down and ran down the hall. When she returned, she was clutching a rag doll that had seen its better days. “That was Jenny’s when she was little, back in Ohio. I came across it a week or two ago, and she latched on to it immediately.”

  “It must be painful being reminded of her constantly,” Alice said.

  “It isn’t. She was a part of Jenny. It’s a blessing.”

  “Miss Clara, would it be all right if I come back tomorrow?” Ben asked.

  “You come back anytime you want,” Clara told him.

  He took her hands. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

  “We had better be going,” Alice said. “She is a precious little girl.”

  “Yes , she is.”

  Chapter nine

  Ben and Becky

  Ben visited the Stevens’ farm several times each week. He began coming in to take Becky to church on Sundays. The farmer and the frilly little girl became a common sight, walking hand in hand on the Main Street in Roseburg.

  “Mama, can you do me a favor?” Ben asked, as he walked from the farmhouse to his wagon.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve got the winter wheat in the ground, and I think I’ve got the house clean. I want to take Becky home with me. Will you come make sure it’s all right first?”

  “I will, but I have a suggestion. Let’s go by and ask Clara if she would like to come along.”

  “That’s a good idea. I should have thought of it myself.”

  * * *

  The Stevens’ farm…

  “Miss Clara, I’d like for you to come with us and take a look at the house. I want to make sure it’s suitable before I take Becky there.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you,” she said.

  “It’s a pleasant day for a ride,” Alice said. “I haven’t been out there since Jenny passed.”

  “Really?”

  “Ben didn’t want me to see it until he got it taken care of, and he says it’s time.”

  “Let me get my bonnet and I’ll be good to go.”

  When they passed the newly sown wheat fields, Clara said, “Your fields look good, Ben.”

  “Thank you. I’ve worked from dawn to dark to get it done.”

  “Who did you have to help?”

  “Seth came out a few times, but mostly I did it.”

  “I’m impressed, and proud of you. Jenny would be proud, too.”

  “I like to think so,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “Let’s go inside.” He lifted Becky from the wagon and took her hand. “Come on, baby.”

  The two mothers looked in the corners, and the fireplace. The cooking pot hung from the hob. It was spotless.

  “I want to get a stove before winter. It could heat the house and I could cook on it, too. If I had a stove before, maybe Jenny wouldn�
��t have…”

  “Don’t go there, Ben. Clara and I both lived in cabins that weren’t this nice, and we cooked in the fireplace too.”

  “That’s true,” Clara echoed, “ and we thought nothing of it. A stove would be nice though.”

  “I want to add another room back here, so Becky can have her own room.”

  “Do you mind if I look in Jenny’s chest?” Clara asked.

  “No, ma’am. It’s just the way she left it. I haven’t touched anything of hers except to dust them.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you thought about moving on,” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

  “Just because you move on, doesn’t mean you don’t remember,” Clara told him.

  “Listen to her, Ben. She’s right.”

  * * *

  It was Becky’s third birthday. Grandma Stevens was hosting a birthday party for her and had invited all of the Sunday school children. Grandma Palmer had made a pink dress with ruffles around the sleeves, along with crinoline to support the skirt in the style of the day that called for the children to look like miniature adults.

  “That was exhausting, but fun,” Alice said.

  “Amen to that,” Clara added.

  After the excitement, Becky had fallen asleep on Ben’s shoulder. “Our birthday girl gave it everything she had,” he told the grandmothers.

  “Bless her heart,” Clara said. “Why don’t you put her on the bed and let her get her nap out?”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you’ve been gone two years,” Ben told Jenny. “It’s been hard without you, but I feel like you’re watching over us. I wish you were here to help with Becky. She’s a good girl, but she needs a mother.”

  “Ben, you promised me you would find a good mother for her. Why haven’t you?”

  “Honey, there are no ladies my age here. When we got married, you were the prettiest girl in the territory, but you were just about the only one. The ones that were here are all married and have families. The only unmarried ones are widows, and they’re all a lot older than me.”

  “Then you’re just going to have to look somewhere else. Somewhere there is a woman that will make a good mother. You have to find her. You promised me.”

  “Jenny, I don’t know where to look.”

  Beck’s crying woke him. His nightgown was wet from perspiration. He lifted her from the bed and rocked her back and forth in the rocking chair the way her mother had done. Patting her gently on the back, he hummed a tuneless lullaby. He laid her in the crib again and returned to his bed, and lay there staring at the top of his house.

  She had to be here. I saw her standing there looking at me. It was real. She looked the same, except she was wearing a long white gown. I wonder if they have blue clothes in heaven. She always looked so good in blue.

  The first signs of dawn had not presented themselves when he sighed, gave up and got out of bed. He stirred the fire in his new stove and put on coffee, and pondered what he was going to do about his promise.

  * * *

  “Ben, do you remember the Andrews back in New Concord?” his mother asked.

  “Of course I remember. Caroline and I shared a desk in school. They lived close to us. Why do you ask?”

  “Charity and I have exchanged a few letters, but none in a long time. I came across hers here a while back and wrote. I got an answer the other day. It was a newsy letter and talked about New Concord and the war. She said quite a few men from there had been killed. Caroline’s husband was one of them. He was killed at Chattanooga in Tennessee back in 1863.

  “She said Caroline has a little boy and lives with them now. She teaches at the New Concord Elementary School. She’s never remarried. I remember you liked her so why don’t you write her?”

  “It’s been so long. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “You could tell her about your farm, Becky, your life.”

  “She wouldn’t be interested in anything like that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I guess I don’t; not really.”

  Chapter ten

  Renewing an Old Acquaintance

  Dear Caroline,

  You probably don’t remember me, but we shared a desk in the old one-room school. I hope hearing from me doesn’t cause too much a shock. Mama told me she had a letter from your mother and suggested I write. It took a few days, but I mustered up enough courage to write my very first letter. I didn’t know your married name so I used the one I knew you by.

  She told me about your sorrow and loss. I have a feeling for what you’re going though. I lost my Jenny to pneumonia suddenly. She was active and lively one week and gone the next. I lost myself for quite some time, ignoring friends and family, but worst of all ignoring my daughter, Becky. I found the way back and am now trying to raise her as Jenny would have. With the advice and help of Jenny’s mother and Mama, and our trust in the good Lord, we will make it.

  Mama told me you have a son and you are teaching. I remember Miss Klein from way back then; somehow it’s in my mind that even then you wanted to be a teacher.

  I’m a plain old farmer now, with three hundred acres. I get two crops of wheat and vegetables for my table. I’m not much of a cook, so a highlight for Becky and me is to have dinner with the grandparents. Wheat is bountiful and the land is fertile. Mama and Papa have six hundred forty acres and are about half an hour from us. Leroy and Glory have a farm nearby. They are without child. Seth has a farm, but he is unmarried. There are not very many ladies to marry in this area, so we are likely to remain in our present state.

  I hope you can find the time to put pen to paper and write about your life and that of your son. It would be the first letter I’ve ever received.

  If this offends or upsets you, I apologize for being so forward.

  Once your friend,

  Ben Palmer

  With no envelopes, Ben had to purchase them on his next trip to town. He borrowed a pencil and addressed the envelope and gave it to the storekeeper to put in the mail. “Mr. Stokes, add writing paper and two pencils to my order.”

  “Is this to one of them mail order brides?” Lem Stokes asked.

  “I don’t know what that is. This is to one of our neighbors back in Ohio.”

  “They’s some men here have wrote off to advertisements from women looking for husbands. They swap back and forth and if they take a liking to one another, they get married up.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Ben said. “I’m going to tell Seth about it. Has anyone from here gotten married that way?”

  “There was one feller over in Umpqua that married, but I don’t know how it turned out.”

  “I almost forgot. Add a peppermint stick for Becky. I’ll see you next time I’m in town. I’ll get these things out of your way now. I have to go by the home place and get Becky and we’ll head on home from there.”

  * * *

  “Well, I did it,” Ben told his mother. “I wrote a letter to Caroline. I mailed it today.

  “Becky, I brought something for you.” He had both arms behind his back. “Guess which hand it’s in and you can have it.”

  She selected the wrong hand, so he shifted it. He held his hand out with the stick of candy. “You win! What do you say?”

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  “You know she’s going to get sticky,” his mother said.

  “That’s all right. Sticky will wash off.”

  “Mr. Stokes was telling me about the mail order bride thing. Have you ever heard about it?”

  “Can’t say as I have,” she said.

  He explained it and said, “I’m going to tell Seth about it.”

  “You might keep it in mind for yourself, too,” she said.

  “I will. Jenny came to me in a dream the other night. It was like she was sitting on the bed. I guess I made some noise, because Becky woke up crying. I rocked her back to sleep.”


  “You’re getting good at this papa thing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying. It isn’t easy though.”

  “Nothing worthwhile is. You just have to keep plugging away.”

  * * *

  Four weeks later…

  “Ben, you have a letter. I’ll get it for you,” Lem said. “It’s from Ohio.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Now, Ben, you know it would be against the law for me to read your mail.”

  “I know, Mr. Stokes. I was just funning you.” He stuck the letter inside his shirt.

  “Ain’t you going to read it?”

  “I’ll save it for later,” Ben told him. “Be sure to put a stick of candy in there for Becky.”

  “How’s that pretty little girl doing?”

  “Getting prettier every day, thank you for asking.”

  “She at your Ma’s?”

  “No, she’s with her other grandma today. I have to spread her around to keep everyone happy.”

  The Stevens…

  “Did you bring me something Papa?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked.

  “You’re my papa.”

  “Which hand?”

  She touched his right arm. “This one.”

  He held out his hand. “I always get it right, huh Papa?”

  “Yes you do, punkin. Every time.”

  Clara smiled at the interchange between father and daughter. “You’re doing a good job, Ben. You’re a good father.”

  It took me a while to get it right, but we have a good time now. She’s the light of my life.”

  “Jenny would be pleased.”

  “Yes, ma’am. She tells me that.” Clara looked at him.

  “She comes to see me sometimes. She’s still as pretty as ever. I wake up sometimes and see her standing by Becky’s crib.”

  “I dream about her often, but she’s always a little girl.”

  “Before I came along and took her to her death in that drafty cabin?”

  “Ben, I didn’t mean it that way. I can’t help what I dream about. You know we don’t blame you, don’t you?”

  He was quiet. “Well, don’t you?”

  “Miss Clara, you don’t have to. I blame myself.”