She nodded. “I miss her terribly.”
“It must have been hard to leave her.”
“No, you don’t understand. She was the one to leave.”
He did recall something about her sister going to New York.
“Did something happen?” Would she see his question as concern and not intrusion?
“You might say that.” She brought her gaze to him. “It’s my fault. She was to be married shortly after Poppy’s birth. People disapproved when Callie moved in with us. But when they learned we would shelter a child born of her sin”—she shivered—“they made their disapproval clear. You might say they served us a large dose of rejection. Her fiancé broke off their engagement weeks prior to the planned wedding. Heclearly didn’t wish to be part of our foolish choice.” Her breath shuddered in and out. “Of course, it was primarily my decision. But it greatly affected both my sister and grandmother. It might have seemed selfish to others, but how could I send Poppy to an orphanage?”
Misery glossed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped, and her fingers twisted together. “Debra couldn’t stay and face the cruel things people were saying. She got a job as a mother’s helper so far away no one would ever know anything about her.” Amelia rocked her head back and forth, tears like diamonds clinging to her lashes.
Uncertain what he should do, afraid any touch would offend her, he sat motionless.
“She says she doesn’t blame me. Says I have no choice about the baby. But I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.” She sat up, her back stiff. “At least she writes.”
“We’re hungry,” Kat called from the wagon.
“Of course you are.” Amelia bounced to her feet, and Zach fell in beside her as they made their way back.
While he spread the blanket, Amelia laid out the food—carrots, pickled eggs, chunks of cheese, biscuits, and jam.
After he’d enjoyed the other offerings, Zach layered red raspberry jam on a biscuit. “Ma always said food tasted better outdoors.”
Pa stopped eating, glanced around, and brought his gaze to Zach. “Evelyn made every occasion special.” He chuckled. “Even cleaning up my clothes after I spent an hour in the mud and manure while caring for cows.”
The three adults stared at Pa, enjoying his moment of clarity.
Pa pushed to his feet. “I must find Evelyn.”
Poppy reached for his hand. “I go with you?” She rubbed her eyes, prepared to cry.
“Poppy’s tired. She needs a nap.” Amelia’s words were soft, inviting Pa to think of the little one.
“Me too.” Pa sank down again, his back to the wagon wheel. “Come, Poppy. Let’s rest.”
Poppy curled up on the ground, her head on Pa’s knee. Her breathing deepened as she slept. Pa tipped his hat over his face and soon snored softly.
Amelia gathered up the picnic things, and Zach stowed them in the wagon, then signaled her to follow him. Kat had wandered off. Perhaps not so far as to repeat yesterday’s worry.
They moved a distance away where they could talk without disturbing the sleeping pair. “Tomorrow, I’ll get some men cutting this for feed.” He waved to indicate the grass. “We have never had to use this before. But never before have we seen this sort of drought.” His gaze went to the mountains. “Seems the ranches down here are the only ones in need of rain.”
“It’s hard to watch the grass dry up and be so powerless to prevent it.” She trailed her fingers along the nearby reeds. “I remember learning a Bible verse in Sunday school. ‘But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.’ The words are easy to say, but trust is hard.”
“‘He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.’” He blinked. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s from the First Psalm. I guess it isn’t our season.”
He waited for the rains. She waited for marriage. He was about to apologize for not being the answer to her season, but she spoke before he did.
“Thanks for showing me the tiger lilies. It meant a lot to Kat, too.”
“You don’t think it upset her?”
“She was touched by the sweet memory of her mother.” Amelia jerked toward him. “I just realized something. In the past, I’ve tried not to remember my parents, but that only robs me of them twice.” A smile curved her lips and warmed her eyes. “Maybe it’s a healthy thing for Kat to recall stories and events of your mother.”
“I never thought of it that way. It’s a comforting idea.”
