Page 47 of Hank and Elsie
Elsie knew they were taking too much time in play. But Hank made her momentarily forget her sore lower limb’s muscles, which, after about fifteen minutes, started protesting her kneeling or squatting positions. Working together, even with stopping for fun, they’d already dug up half the small field, something that would have taken her most of the day alone.
Elsie glanced up to check on Mary, kneeling in the carrot patch, singing softly to herself. Her father and brother, along with Brian Bly scythed hay. The four Smithson men worked in the cornfield. The younger Smithsons labored in the sweet potato patch, and Ma, Mrs. Smithson, and Henrietta cooked in the kitchen. The other women hadn’t come today.
She brushed away an annoying fly and looked at the sky in all directions, seeing only vivid blue. Even though the almanac promised dry weather for another two weeks, the booklet was wrong almost as much as the predictions were right. Any approaching storm clouds would mean all hands racing to the hay fields to bring as much as possible into the barn before the rain ruined the crop. Unless they had deep snow, the root vegetables could weather a storm just fine.
She took in a breath of relief, inhaling the dark earthy smell of the dug up ground and dirty potatoes and her lower limb muscles gave another twinge. When the pain became almost too much to bear, she’d switch to picking the sheaves of corn, which she could do standing.
She wondered if Hank also felt his muscles protesting.Do men struggle with pain like women do?Pa never complained. But now that she thought about it, she sometimes saw him moving stiffly, as if achy.
Ricky was enough like their father to take after him, although he did complain a bit—at least, to her.
Even with Hank’s levity to lighten the labor, Elsie knew without a doubt that she never wanted to be a farm wife. She might always have to help her family during the harvest. But the rest of the time, she belonged in town. The thought made her feel a little guilty but not enough to change her mind.I’m a town girl, not a country girl.
Finally,finallyfinished, they’d finished the backbreaking labor of bringing in the harvest. Hank supposed in other places, someone would bring out a fiddle and there’d be feasting and dancing, with lots of joking and laughter. But the Baileys continued with the same type of simple meal they’d had all week, accompanied by the same weary quiet. The only difference was tonight, they ate outside around a bonfire.
Only a careful observer would see small changes. How the lines on Mr. Bailey’s forehead had smoothed out, and he offered more smiles to a family member or Hank and Brian than he had their entire time combined. He saw Mrs. Bailey rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder for a few seconds and squeeze or brush tendrils of hair from the face of one of her daughters. Even Brian’s expression relaxed.
While Elsie…. Without the cares for the success of the harvest weighing her down, he could only think that she fluttered like a butterfly—light and joyful and unbelievably beautiful.
He looked across the fire at Mr. Bailey, wondering if the man noticed and appreciated the changes in his daughter. As if he knew what Hank was thinking, Elsie’s father gave him a searching glance and then jerked his head in an indication to leave their grouping and talk.
This is it.Hank’s stomach tightened, and his mouth dried. He set his plate on the ground, but kept his mug, as if he was about to head to the pump for a refill, and casually walked away from the firelight’s warmth. To lend truth to his movements, he stopped at the pump to put a splash of water into his cup and drank to wet his throat, before catching up with his host.
Mr. Bailey stopped out of earshot of the others, gazing into the darkness in the direction of his shorn fields. For a few seconds, he didn’t turn to acknowledge Hank. “You and Mr. Bly have been a godsend this week. I don’t know how to thank you. But I’ve seen how you look at my Elsie, and I think offering you her hand in marriage?—”
Sudden anger flared in Hank. “Offer! This is 1896! Women aren’t, aren’tchattel.”
Mr. Bailey heldup a hand in acknowledgement. “I misspoke…. I meant, I could accept help from a future son-in-law and his friend that in other circumstances would only make me feel indebted.”
Hank breathed in a long breath and wished he could tell the man not to be so stiff-necked with foolish pride. “Brian, our neighbor, Torin, and I are so used to helping each other, that extending aid just comes naturally.”
“Perhaps it would be easier for me to admit—” Mr. Bailey sighed and rubbed a hand over his head “—if I had more congenial neighbors.”
Hank chuckled. “Not sure I’d call Briancongenial, as you’ve seen for yourself, for all he’s a good man and a fine neighbor.” He nerved himself up to bring the topic back to Elsie. “I would like permission to court your daughter.”
With the biggest grin he’d seen on the man’s face, Mr. Bailey clapped a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Say no more. I’ve seen the way Elsie looks at you, like you’ve hung the moon. I’ve appreciated your help this week, not just because of the difference you and Bly made. But, also, because I had the chance to assess your character.”
“I figured.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Bailey and I could ask for a better husband for our girl. She’s special, our Elsie. We thought she’d have to settle for….” He swallowed, his haunted expression that of a proud, inarticulate man struggling to put hard truths into words. “We prayed, her mother and I, that she’d find agoodman, one who wouldguideher high spirits, as we’ve tried to do for her own good—keep her dreaming reasonable.”
The idea of Elsie’s effervescence crushed forher own goodmade his chest heat. He bit back harsh words that, if let out, would cause damage and possible estrangement. The man was trying to help Hank understand the realities of their poverty-stricken life.
“But we didn’t want her dreams completely extinguished.”
“I’d never do that!” The very idea made Hank indignant.
“To see my daughter have a chance to live out some of those dreams of hers—wasn’t something I thought possible. But, beyond a dream, it’s more important to secure her future.”
“Of course, that’s important. But?—”
Bailey grabbed Hank’s elbow and pulled him around, towing him in the direction of the firepit. The man only released him when they reached the group in order to bring his hands together in a loud clap for attention. “I have wonderful news to announce, the betrothal of Elsie and Hank.”
What?Hank stepped back.
“What?” Elsie echoed Hank’s thought, jumping to her feet.
Her father gave her a paternal smile. “Hank has asked me for your hand in marriage.”
