Hope Rekindled by Tracie Peterson Page B

Euphanel.
    “He left Friday and hopes to be back sometime this week,” Mother announced. “That is good news.”
    “We’ve been blessed that there haven’t been any accidents or problems in his absence,” Annabeth declared. Maybelle nodded and both girls fixed Deborah with a rather smug expression.
    “If there had been,” their father countered, “I’m guessin’ Miss Deborah woulda handled things just fine.”
    “She’s a woman, Pa. It’s vulgar for her to do such things,” Maybelle said.
    “Vulgar to heal a person? Vulgar to keep someone from dyin’?” G.W. asked. “Like she did for me? I can’t see it as such.”
    Deborah was grateful for her brother’s support. She gave him an appreciative glance and turned her attention back to the food on her plate.
    “I think we’re doing more talking than eating,” Mother said, getting to her feet. “Perhaps if I bring in dessert, you’ll feel more motivated. I have some mouth-watering strawberry shortcake, just waiting for our attention.”
    “Is that with that buttery pound cake you make, Miz Vandermark?” the pastor asked.
    “It is indeed. Would you care to indulge?”
    He laughed. “I’ll be happy to have my portion and anyone else’s.”
    Laughter filled the room. G.W. shook his head. “Nobody’s gettin’ my share. Ma makes the best pound cake I’ve ever tasted.”
    “I agree,” Arjan declared.
    “Then I’ll be right back, and we can all indulge together.”

     
    G.W. pushed back from the table some time later and patted his full stomach. “I could celebrate the Lord like that every day.”
    “Perhaps we should,” Lizzie said with a grin.
    “And we’d all weigh as much as Miz Foster’s prized hog,” Mother replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to gather some of these dishes.”
    “No, Mother, I’ll take care of them,” Deborah said, getting to her feet.
    Mara began gathering plates. “I’ll help you.”
    “Well, Sissy, it looks like we get to retire with the others to the front room.”
    “Iffen you don’ mind, I’s gonna take me a Easter nap.” Sissy got up from the table, a hand upon her back. “The weather’s got my rheumatism actin’ up sumpt’n fierce.”
    “By all means, go and rest. You’ve earned it.” Mother motioned to the hall. “Why don’t we retire to the living room, and I’ll bring coffee.”
    “It’s gettin’ kind of late and the stormy weather has kept the skies overcast,” Pastor Shattuck stated. “I believe once Mara is finished helpin’ out, she and I will make our way back to town. I ought to go ready the buggy.”
    “We really should be going, as well,” Mrs. Perkins said with a quick glance at her husband.
    He nodded and stood. “Pastor makes a good point. Might even get back before the next storm moves in.”
    They heard the rumblings of thunder in the distance, and Mother moved to the end of the table. “I will miss your company, of course, but I completely understand.”
    Deborah looked to Mara. “I can handle this by myself.”
    The young woman inclined her head to the kitchen. “I’ll . . . ah . . . bring these in and then go.”
    Something in her expression made Deborah realize she had something she needed to say. Deborah nodded and led the way with a stack of plates. She quickly discarded the dishes on the counter and turned to Mara.
    “Has Jael sent word?”
    “Yes. She sent this letter.” Mara put the tableware down and reached inside her blouse. “I hid it so I could give it to you when we were alone.”
    “Probably a good idea. Maybelle and Annabeth have a tendency to run their mouths at the most inopportune times.” Deborah took the letter. “Thank you for doing this. I know it’s probably not the most comfortable thing. I certainly didn’t want to put you in a compromising position.”
    “I don’t feel that it’s a problem.” Mara smiled. “I also heard from your brother Rob. He hopes to come home for a visit this summer. Probably