Iffen yer in doubt. . . ?" Iffen ya feel--?"
"My goodness, no," Missie said emphatically. "There's not a doubt in my mind at all. I'm lookin' forward to seem' yer land and buildin' a home. You know that! Sure, I'll miss Mama an' Pa an' the family--'specially at first. But I just gotta grow up, that's all. Everyone's gotta grow up sometime." How could Willie think that she was so selfish as to deny him his dream?
"Yer sure?"
"I'm sure."
"It won't be an easy trip--you know thet."
"I know."
"An' it won't be easy even after we git there. There's no house yet, no neighbors, no church. You'll miss it all, Missie." "I'll have you."
Willie pulled her back into his arms. "I'm afraid I'm not much to make up fer all thet you're losin'. But I love ya, Missie--I love ya so much."
"Then that's all I need," whispered Missie. "Love is the one thing thet I reckon I jest couldn't do without, so--" she reached up and kissed him on his chin. "As long as you love me, I should make out just fine."
Missie drew back gently from Willie's arms. "We'd better be eatin' that supper you cooked. I'm powerful hungry."
Willie nodded. "But you might change yer mind once you've tasted my cookin'." They both laughed.
After they had finished their meal together and Missie had washed up the few dishes, Willie brought out their Bible. It was carefully wrapped in oiled paper with an inner wrap of soft doeskin.
"Been thinkin'," he said. "Our mornin's are goin' to be short and rushed; it might be easier fer us to have our readin' time at night."
Missie nodded and settled down beside him. It was still light
22
enough to see, but the light would not last for long. Willie found his place and began in an even voice.
"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."*
He closed the Bible slowly.
"Yer pa underlined thet for us. When he handed me the Bible this morning, he read it to me and marked it with this red ribbon. He said fer us to claim thet verse fer our own and to read it every day, if need be, until we felt it real and meaningful in our hearts."
"It's a good verse," Missie said. Her voice was tremulous. If she closed her eyes she was sure that she would be able to see her pa sitting at the kitchen table with the family Bible opened before him and all of the family gathered round. She could even hear his voice as he led them in the morning prayer time. Her
pa--the spiritual leader of the home. No. . . not anymore. Willie was the head of her home now; he was her spiritual leader. Now she would look to him for strength and direction to get her through each day--whether happy or difficult. She was not Clark's little girl anymore; she was a woman, a woman and a wife. Clark had handed her into the care and keeping of Willie; and though Missie was sure that her father's love and prayers would reach out to her always, she also knew that Clark was content in his knowledge that she had taken her rightful place in life . . . by Willie's side.
Missie reached for Willie's hand and clung to it as they prayed together. Willie thanked God for being with them through the day and for the love of those left behind. He prayed for comfort for their hearts at this difficult time, as he and Missie learned to live without the nearness of their families; he asked for safety as they traveled and for special strength for Missie in the long days ahead, his voice tight again with concern. Missie determined that tonight was not the time to share her secret. There was no need to trouble Willie. She'd wait until she had gotten used to the bumping and the walking and had toughened to the
*Isaiah 41:10, KJV.
23
pace of the trail. Besides, she told herself, there was still a chance that she could be wrong.
If she was right--and deep down inside, Missie admitted the fact that indeed she must be--she was bound to gain new vigor and strength
"My goodness, no," Missie said emphatically. "There's not a doubt in my mind at all. I'm lookin' forward to seem' yer land and buildin' a home. You know that! Sure, I'll miss Mama an' Pa an' the family--'specially at first. But I just gotta grow up, that's all. Everyone's gotta grow up sometime." How could Willie think that she was so selfish as to deny him his dream?
"Yer sure?"
"I'm sure."
"It won't be an easy trip--you know thet."
"I know."
"An' it won't be easy even after we git there. There's no house yet, no neighbors, no church. You'll miss it all, Missie." "I'll have you."
Willie pulled her back into his arms. "I'm afraid I'm not much to make up fer all thet you're losin'. But I love ya, Missie--I love ya so much."
"Then that's all I need," whispered Missie. "Love is the one thing thet I reckon I jest couldn't do without, so--" she reached up and kissed him on his chin. "As long as you love me, I should make out just fine."
Missie drew back gently from Willie's arms. "We'd better be eatin' that supper you cooked. I'm powerful hungry."
Willie nodded. "But you might change yer mind once you've tasted my cookin'." They both laughed.
After they had finished their meal together and Missie had washed up the few dishes, Willie brought out their Bible. It was carefully wrapped in oiled paper with an inner wrap of soft doeskin.
"Been thinkin'," he said. "Our mornin's are goin' to be short and rushed; it might be easier fer us to have our readin' time at night."
Missie nodded and settled down beside him. It was still light
22
enough to see, but the light would not last for long. Willie found his place and began in an even voice.
"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."*
He closed the Bible slowly.
"Yer pa underlined thet for us. When he handed me the Bible this morning, he read it to me and marked it with this red ribbon. He said fer us to claim thet verse fer our own and to read it every day, if need be, until we felt it real and meaningful in our hearts."
"It's a good verse," Missie said. Her voice was tremulous. If she closed her eyes she was sure that she would be able to see her pa sitting at the kitchen table with the family Bible opened before him and all of the family gathered round. She could even hear his voice as he led them in the morning prayer time. Her
pa--the spiritual leader of the home. No. . . not anymore. Willie was the head of her home now; he was her spiritual leader. Now she would look to him for strength and direction to get her through each day--whether happy or difficult. She was not Clark's little girl anymore; she was a woman, a woman and a wife. Clark had handed her into the care and keeping of Willie; and though Missie was sure that her father's love and prayers would reach out to her always, she also knew that Clark was content in his knowledge that she had taken her rightful place in life . . . by Willie's side.
Missie reached for Willie's hand and clung to it as they prayed together. Willie thanked God for being with them through the day and for the love of those left behind. He prayed for comfort for their hearts at this difficult time, as he and Missie learned to live without the nearness of their families; he asked for safety as they traveled and for special strength for Missie in the long days ahead, his voice tight again with concern. Missie determined that tonight was not the time to share her secret. There was no need to trouble Willie. She'd wait until she had gotten used to the bumping and the walking and had toughened to the
*Isaiah 41:10, KJV.
23
pace of the trail. Besides, she told herself, there was still a chance that she could be wrong.
If she was right--and deep down inside, Missie admitted the fact that indeed she must be--she was bound to gain new vigor and strength
Similar Books
The South Lawn Plot
Ray O'Hanlon
Ask the Dust
John Fante
Lady Varney's Risqué Business
Cerise Deland
Skyland
Aelius Blythe
A Coven of Vampires
Brian Lumley
The Woman Who Loved Jesse James
Cindi Myers
The Writer and the World
V.S. Naipaul
Under and Alone
William Queen
Marry or Burn
Valerie Trueblood
Money for Nothing
P. G. Wodehouse