Mrs. Hawkins made for the door, and Jonathan followed her. Aaron turned, too, but Mary stopped him, saying, 'Aaron, can you stay for a minute?'
He thought, I could stay forever, but a minute is harder. 'Sure,' he said.
When the others had left, she said, 'Jonathan told me you went after Agnes, and I just wanted to thank you. You can't know how happy I was to have her here that night.' 'We all felt better having her here,' he returned, and his eyes went to the spokes behind Mary's head. 'Is everything okay? I mean…you?'
She just nodded, that same brilliant smile on her face.
He wanted to say, 'Call if you need me, let me know anything you want and I'll get it for you, do it for you, buy it for you.' But instead he just said, 'Good. Be seeing you, okay?' And he hurried from the room.
Most women stayed in bed for two weeks after giving birth. Mary refused to be pampered, coddled, or cajoled longer than seven days. When Doc Haymes came around, she asked his okay to get up and start doing for herself again. He real- ized the willful girl would do as she pleased, anyway, and judged it wisest to give her rein and at the same time some sensible advice to go with it. 'All right,' he agreed, 'but no lifting, no straining, and plenty of short rests for a couple of weeks.' 'Oh, I promise, Doc Haymes,' she conceded. 'The neigh- bors have been grand with their help, but I can do most of it now, I'm sure. And Jonathan and Aaron are here to help, too.'
'Well, see that they do, young lady,' he warned.
She chuckled at his grudging, grumbling warning, hearing, too, the concern behind his words. On an impulse, she stayed him with a hand on his arm, saying 'You were right, Doc.'
His grizzled eyebrows raised questioningly to her. 'About what?' he asked. 'About the time of the month. I tried it till it worked.'
She was happy she'd told him when his wizened face broke into a smile. He patted the small hand on his arm, gave it a squeeze as he spoke. 'Good for you, girl, good for you.'
He'd seen many babies into the world, but few had been wanted as much as this one. It was heartwarming to see the couple blessed after seven fruitless years. It was downright gratifying, he thought as he walked through the kitchen on his way out. Jonathan was waiting for him there. 'I'd like to settle up with you,' he said. 'No need to be in a rush, Jonathan,' the older man answered. 'It's not my way to let debts go for long,' and he seemed intent upon having it done. He held a number of bills in his hand.
Doc Haymes named his fee, and Jonathan placed the proper number of bills in his palm, abrading the corner of each between his callused fingers as he counted.
The doctor folded them in half, then looked at the man as he thanked him. But before turning to leave, he said, 'You have a fine daughter, Jonathan…and a hell of a fine wife.' 'Yes sir, I do,' Jonathan agreed.
19
Aaron made his decision the day he first saw Sarah. Folly, he'd thought it was to touch her. And folly it was to stay here any longer. He should have left last summer when common sense told him to the first time. But something had kept him here until he was sure everything would be okay. Now that the baby was born and she and Mary were both doing all right, he knew he had to leave. Jonathan had stepped into the father's role so smoothly there was no doubt that Aaron wouldn't be needed around here anymore. Mary treated Aaron exactly as she always had. But the difference now was that sometimes when she turned to say, 'Aaron, hand me that wash cloth,' Sarah was there on her arm. He stayed away from the house as much as he could, but he began to hate the granary steps where he sat and shelled corn or mended harness or did nothing in the evenings. He began going down to the hall again. But he made plans to leave as soon as he could.
Farmers all over the state would need field help soon, and he could find work anywhere. He'd been to Douglas County before and liked the look of the land out that way. He remembered once when he'd taken a load of geese to Osakis, passing farms much larger than those around here. The land west of Alexandria bore farms of even greater acreage, and besides, the country there was as pretty as here, not flat and desolate like Dakota.
He subscribed to the Douglas County Courier and waited for the first paper to arrive by mail so he could read the want ads.
Meanwhile, spring moved closer. Jonathan was again full of plans for Vinnie. He never tired of searching the farm journals for information on Black Angus cows and seemed obsessed with the idea of buying one soon. The bull had matured over the winter and broadened in its wide, powerful shoulders. Aaron had to admit he was a beautiful specimen as Vinnie's coat glimmered in jet sheens. Jonathan had a right to be proud. The way the bull handled for Jonathan was a thing of beauty. He could walk near the animal and say some mysterious thing near the smartly angled ears, and as if the animal truly understood the man, he followed, doing as he was bid. His polled head would turn in response to Jonathan's nearness and his throatlatch would tighten as he became alert to the man.
They started preparing the fields for seeding but an early April blizzard unexpectedly forced them all inside for two strained days. When the mail came again, Aaron had two replies to his inquiries from Douglas County. The pay wouldn't be as good as in Dakota, but it would do. He wrote back inquiring when he could start work. Then he and Jonathan found their days frenzied with spring activities, and Aaron waited for his reply.
Aaron could hear the grindstone downyard where Jonathan was sharpening implements. He walked toward the sound, and Jonathan finished honing the piece as Aaron approached. Jonathan looked askance at his brother as he poised a harrow spike over the wheel. Before he lowered it, Aaron spoke. 'I've decided to leave, Jonathan.' 'Seems you're always leavin'. But you always come back. So why not just stay?'
Aaron hunkered down, elbows on knees, and picked up a stone, tossing it repeatedly as he answered. 'It's different now. I've got to go now.'
Jonathan started the wheel up again, his foot rising and falling in smooth rhythm. The blade touched the wheel, sending sparks and swarf spraying around it. He had to shout to be heard above the whining noise. 'There's still room for you here.' 'Three's a family-four's a crowd,' Aaron replied. 'What?' Jonathan yelled.
Aaron raised his voice. 'Never mind. I'll be gone in early May.' 'What?' Jonathan yelled again.
Aaron put his foot on the paddle, stopping the wheel. 'Stop that damn thing, will you?' he demanded gruffly. 'I got a job in Douglas County. I'll be leaving in early May.'
Jonathan had felt more comfortable with the noise of the grindstone grating around them. 'It's a two-man farm,' he reasoned. 'Not anymore,' Aaron said. 'You'll just have to let some lie fallow. Vinnie's calves will bring in plenty extra cash to make up for it.' 'What about the house?' Jonathan asked. 'We'll settle that when we must. I'll get my room and board there, so for now let's let it ride.' 'I want to buy a cow this year,' Jonathan said, meaning he couldn't pay for a house, too. 'We'll let it ride, I said.' And with that Aaron left. The wheel shrilled behind him once again.
Mary knew what was coming before she was told. She'd seen the Courier arriving for Aaron, then those two letters right after the blizzard. It could only mean that Aaron was after a job.
Jonathan told her it was true one night at bedtime while they whispered in the dark, not wanting to awaken Sarah, who slept beside them. He seemed to accept it quite readily, even to using the house again without settling anything on Aaron for its use. It rankled her that Aaron shouldn't even realize a bit of rent for it. But she didn't say so, for there was one thing Jonathan had a fixation about and that was building his Angus herd. He could start that only if the house came free.
But she made up her mind that she would not see Aaron pushed away from his home without any compensation at all. She knew they couldn't continue this way but felt a guilt at her part in forcing him out. She began thinking about asking Jonathan to build another house, maybe down in the woods west of this one. She expected him to balk at the idea, but why should Aaron get cut out? Knowing how he felt about this place, she thought of him leaving it again and formed questions she would put to Jonathan. But she and he were getting along so well, and if she argued in Aaron's favor, what would Jonathan think? She thought of the money she still had from selling the geese. More had come from the down they sent to Chicago. She decided she'd offer it as a start. Maybe Jonathan wouldn't doubt her sincerity.
Aunt Mabel and Uncle Garner came at last. They arrived in a buckboard one hot Sunday in late April, bringing their entire troop of kids and half of their larder along for a picnic. Mary was ecstatic. Her confinement and the time
