Love's New Beginning (a Love Comes Softly fanfiction)

Pancakes Again

The following morning's breakfast was pancakes again. Still. More pancakes. Clark stifled the flash of irritation he felt, knowing it was unfair to Marty—it had been such a short time since she'd been widowed, and she was standing up and taking on her responsibilities in a strange house, mothering a strange woman's child. And Missie was cheerful this morning, beginning to address her chatter to Marty as well as Clark.

And Marty actually smiled, the first one Clark had seen on her face. It was remarkable how it changed her, brightened her. He found himself hoping she would smile more.

She was trying, he knew, and so he added his appreciation for her efforts into the morning prayer. He didn't feel comfortable talking to her that openly, but through God he could say what needed to be said.

With the prayer over, they dug into the pancakes. Missie dropped a piece on the floor, and he scolded her for making extra work for her mama. He was trying to use the word, so she would learn to think of Marty that way—but it still hurt every time. Ellen was her mama, and his heart still cried out for his Ellen even as he tried to do what was right for their child.

Across the room, something fell from the wall, and Marty cleared her throat. It was so unusual for her to start a conversation that both Clark and Missie stared at her.

"I'm afeared I made a dreadful mistake yesterday," she began, clearly uncomfortable. "I took on to clean the kitchen—"

"I'd seen me it was all fresh an' clean lookin' an' smellin'," Clark said, wanting her to know that he'd noticed.

Marty gasped as if surprised, twisting her hands uncomfortably in her lap as she went on, "But I didn't know what scrub water would be a doin' with the chinkin'. I mean, I didn't know thet it would soak up like, an' then not dry right again."

Clark kept quiet, tamping down a sudden irritation. More work for him, then, fixing the chinking.

He scolded himself immediately. The thought was uncharitable. She hadn't known, couldn't have known, and the fact that he could still remember doing that chinking with Ellen wasn't something Marty could have guessed either.

When he didn't respond, Marty tried again. "Well, it's fallin' apart like. I mean—well, look at it. It's crumblin' up an' fallin' out—"

"Yeah." Usually, Clark wished Marty would speak up more. Now he just wanted her to stop talking. For some reason everything felt all wrong today, and he was fighting not to take his unexpected bad mood out on Marty.

"Well, it not be stayin' in place," Marty said desperately. "Whatever can we do?"

It was the first question she had ever asked him, the first time she had ever addressed him as a partner. It was a great effort for her, and Clark made an effort in return. "Well, when I go to town on Saturday, I'll pick me up some more chinkin'. It's a special kind like. Made to look whiter an' cleaner, but no good at all fer holdin' out the weather—the outside chinkin' has to do thet job. There still be time to re-do it 'fore winter sets in. Water don't hurt the outer layer none, so it's holdin' firm like. Don't ya worry yerself none 'bout it. I'm sure thet the bats won't be a flyin' through the cracks afore I get to 'em." He started to offer her a smile, but Marty's wide worried eyes stopped him. Ellen would have been laughing over her mistake, and he would have teased her, and ...

Clark turned away to hide the pain of the thought. Clearing his throat, he said, "I reckon ya been pushin' yerself pretty hard though, an' it might be well if you'd not try an' lick the whole place in a week like. There's more days ahead an' ya be lookin' kinda tired. Iffen ya should decide to do more cleanin', jest brush down the walls with a dry brush. Okay?"

Marty nodded, seeming to feel chastened by his comments. Probably she was right; probably it was more to do with wanting some remnants of Ellen to remain in the house than with his concern for Marty's well-being ... but Marty did look tired, and she had been through a lot, and it wouldn't hurt her any to take it easy.

He went off to Jedd's still feeling unsettled and wishing he knew why.

To his surprise, he came home to fresh-baked bread, a stew bubbling on the stove that smelled mouth-watering, and a long and comprehensive shopping list for tomorrow's trip to town.

"Ma Graham came to visit today," Marty volunteered, and Clark's surprise faded. Bless Ma Graham's heart, she had come at just the right time.

"She's a good woman."

"She is," Marty agreed fervently.

In his prayer before the meal, Clark included their good neighbor, asking God to bless her for her generosity and her loving heart. He noticed that Marty's "Amen" was more heartfelt than he had yet heard it. Truly, Ma Graham was an angel, and as he dug into the heartiest, most filling meal he had eaten in a long time, he blessed her again silently.