Chapter Ten
Before church the followingmorning, James looked in the drawer where he kept his money, planning to donate a small amount to the Johnsons to thank them for use of their home every week.He tried to donate at least once a month.
To his surprise, there was a great deal more money in the drawer than he’d had previously.He kept close track of his funds.
He walked up behind Maggie, who was cooking their breakfast.“Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Maggie frowned, shaking her head.“Not that I can think of.”She looked at him curiously.
“There’s something you don’t know about me, Maggie.I always know to the penny how much money I have.”
Maggie turned back around, not wanting to face him for this discussion.“Is that so?”
“Why is there more money?I know you’ve had to buy groceries.There should be less money, not more.”
She flipped the pancakes before responding.“I’ve worked for years.I’ve always had an income.I’ve saved every penny I could from that income.I’ve always feared having nowhere to live and nothing to eat.”She sighed.“I can’t stop working because if I do, something will surely happen.I feel safe working and making money.I think I would be afraid if I stopped.I have nothing I need from that money, so it made sense to me to give it to you.”
“You don’t think I can support you, do you?”
Maggie flipped the pancakes onto two plates.“I know you can support me.I don’t know if I can give up the fear that if I quit working, I’ll be out on the street.On one hand, I know better.I know you won’t let anything happen to me.On the other hand, the very idea of not making an income, and being able to support myself if something happened to you, frightens me more than I can admit.”
“Then keep your money!We don’t need it!”
“But I need to contribute.Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t see!”He took his plate from her and carried it to the table.“I don’t understand why you can’t do this one thing that I ask of you.Stop working or keep your money.I don’t need it!”
Maggie set her plate on the table and moved to the seat across from him, not meeting his gaze.“Can’t we use it to save money so you can buy back into the lumber operation?Every time you’ve talked about it, I can tell it’s what you want.”
“But it’s not.I think it would be nice, but I don’t know that Everett would be willing to sell half back to me.He likes running things on his own.The idea of carving for a living makes me much happier.”
“So, you can carve, and I can cook for the men.Then you don’t have to worry about how quickly you’ll be paid.”
“No, Maggie.I can’t take your money.”
“Is the money you make your money or our money?”she asked.
“It’s ours, but the money you make is yours.I’m finished discussing this.”
“You are a mule-headed man!”
“And you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met in my life!”
The rest of their meal passed in silence.Afterward, she cleaned up and dressed for church.Before they left, James put money on the table.“I want that to be gone the next time I look at the table.”
She didn’t respond and simply stared straight ahead.They walked to the store and went inside together, and they even sat together for the service, but neither would look at the other, both of them so angry.
Maggie had almost forgotten she’d invited Belle and Everett to join them for lunch.Thankfully, she’d made the stew and baked the bread the previous evening, and she was ready to heat it up and serve it in the bread.
Throughout the meal, Everett and Belle tried to make conversation.Afterward, Belle stayed inside to help Maggie with the dishes while both men took their bows and arrows to do a bit of hunting.
As soon as the men were gone, Belle turned to Maggie.“What is going on?And why is there so much money in the middle of the table?”
Maggie sighed.“My husband is an ignorant fool!”
“All men are.”Belle put her hand on Maggie’s arm.“From the beginning.”
Maggie explained that James had a problem with her earning money because he felt it meant she didn’t have confidence in him to earn a living for them.Belle already knew Maggie’s perspective because they’d known each other for years.
