Love's Enduring Promise (Love Comes Softly Series #2) by Janette Oke Page A
Authors: Janette Oke
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'im."
Ole Bob was truly becoming old Bob. His legs were stiff and unaccommodating. His eyes were getting dim, and his movements slow. Clark and Marty had realized that Bob's days were numbered, but perhaps with care, he could be with them for several months yet.
The family followed Clare, who was carrying the puppy out to the doghouse where Ole Bob resided. Bob came out slowly, stretching his stiff muscles, and wagged a greeting to them all. As the puppy was placed on the ground, Bob lowered his head slowly and sniffed. He didn't seem impressed, but he wasn't angered either. The puppy, upon being presented to one of his kind, went wild with excitement, bouncing and bobbing
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around on his unsteady feet like a funny wind-up toy whose spring would not run down. Ole Bob put up with his ridiculous display for a few moments, then walked away and lay down. The puppy toddled after him and began to tug at and wrestle his long fluffy tail. Bob chose to ignore him, as the children shrieked.
Eventually the puppy was left with Ole Bob. Clark and the boys went to put away the team and unload the wagon. The girls, after filling the puppy's little tummy with warm milk, returned to the chores they had been assigned. Each one had been advised to consider a name for the new dog. This would be discussed and settled at the supper table.
Marty went in to finish washing the chickens and clean the cupboard top, so that Clark and the boys could place the groceries there for her to put away.
As she went through the bags and boxes, she suddenly stopped short.
"What's this?" she asked, for the pails were clearly marked LARD. "I didn't have me lard on my list, did I? I got lard stacked up high from our last butcherin'."
Marty picked up her list and glanced over it to see what she might have ordered that Clark had read as lard.
"No," he answered evenly, "ya didn't have lard on the list."
"Then why--?" Marty left the question hanging. Clark looked a mite sheepish.
"They're red, ain't they--an' shiny--an' they have a handle--an' white letters?"
It finally dawned. Missie's pail. Red and shiny with white letters--LARD.
Marty nodded.
"Now, I ain't sayin' thet Missie should have thet jest cause she asked fer it." Clark hurried on. "No reason fer her to be thinkin' thet she'll always git what she's a wantin' jest by askin', but iffen ya think thet it won't hurt none, fer her to have it--like this once, then it'll be there. An'--well, I could hardly git her one an' not the other two--now could I?"
"No, I s'pose not."
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Clark turned to leave the kitchen.
"Ya can decide," he said again.
Marty turned back to the three red, shiny pails. Three pails of lard, and she already with more lard than they could use, and another fall butchering coming up soon. What would she ever do with it all?
"Ya ole softy," she murmured, but she was forced to swallow hard, and the thought of the happy faces and Missie's glowing eyes when she passed them their lunches on Monday morning made it difficult to wait.
The chores had been done and the Saturday night bath- water put on the stove to heat in the big copper boiler, when the family gathered around for the evening meal.
"I thought thet iffen somethin' happens to Ole Bob, it'll make it less painful-like iffen they have a new pup to fill their minds," Clark confided in Marty as she dished up the potatoes. She nodded.
Clark moved on to the table and saw to the seating of his family.
"Know what, Ma?" said Clare. "I stopped to see the puppy an' it's all curled up sleepin' with Ole Bob. Does Ole Bob think he's the puppy's mama?"
Marty smiled. "No, I doubt Ole Bob be thet dumb, but as long as the puppy doesn't torment 'im too much a chewin' an' a chasin', Ole Bob'll be content to let 'im share his bed."
"He's so cute," said Missie. "I wish I could share my bed."
"Oh, no," said Marty firmly. "Animals belong outside, not in."
Thinking of Miss Puss, who did sneak in and share her bed, Missie did not belabor the
Ole Bob was truly becoming old Bob. His legs were stiff and unaccommodating. His eyes were getting dim, and his movements slow. Clark and Marty had realized that Bob's days were numbered, but perhaps with care, he could be with them for several months yet.
The family followed Clare, who was carrying the puppy out to the doghouse where Ole Bob resided. Bob came out slowly, stretching his stiff muscles, and wagged a greeting to them all. As the puppy was placed on the ground, Bob lowered his head slowly and sniffed. He didn't seem impressed, but he wasn't angered either. The puppy, upon being presented to one of his kind, went wild with excitement, bouncing and bobbing
91
around on his unsteady feet like a funny wind-up toy whose spring would not run down. Ole Bob put up with his ridiculous display for a few moments, then walked away and lay down. The puppy toddled after him and began to tug at and wrestle his long fluffy tail. Bob chose to ignore him, as the children shrieked.
Eventually the puppy was left with Ole Bob. Clark and the boys went to put away the team and unload the wagon. The girls, after filling the puppy's little tummy with warm milk, returned to the chores they had been assigned. Each one had been advised to consider a name for the new dog. This would be discussed and settled at the supper table.
Marty went in to finish washing the chickens and clean the cupboard top, so that Clark and the boys could place the groceries there for her to put away.
As she went through the bags and boxes, she suddenly stopped short.
"What's this?" she asked, for the pails were clearly marked LARD. "I didn't have me lard on my list, did I? I got lard stacked up high from our last butcherin'."
Marty picked up her list and glanced over it to see what she might have ordered that Clark had read as lard.
"No," he answered evenly, "ya didn't have lard on the list."
"Then why--?" Marty left the question hanging. Clark looked a mite sheepish.
"They're red, ain't they--an' shiny--an' they have a handle--an' white letters?"
It finally dawned. Missie's pail. Red and shiny with white letters--LARD.
Marty nodded.
"Now, I ain't sayin' thet Missie should have thet jest cause she asked fer it." Clark hurried on. "No reason fer her to be thinkin' thet she'll always git what she's a wantin' jest by askin', but iffen ya think thet it won't hurt none, fer her to have it--like this once, then it'll be there. An'--well, I could hardly git her one an' not the other two--now could I?"
"No, I s'pose not."
92
Clark turned to leave the kitchen.
"Ya can decide," he said again.
Marty turned back to the three red, shiny pails. Three pails of lard, and she already with more lard than they could use, and another fall butchering coming up soon. What would she ever do with it all?
"Ya ole softy," she murmured, but she was forced to swallow hard, and the thought of the happy faces and Missie's glowing eyes when she passed them their lunches on Monday morning made it difficult to wait.
The chores had been done and the Saturday night bath- water put on the stove to heat in the big copper boiler, when the family gathered around for the evening meal.
"I thought thet iffen somethin' happens to Ole Bob, it'll make it less painful-like iffen they have a new pup to fill their minds," Clark confided in Marty as she dished up the potatoes. She nodded.
Clark moved on to the table and saw to the seating of his family.
"Know what, Ma?" said Clare. "I stopped to see the puppy an' it's all curled up sleepin' with Ole Bob. Does Ole Bob think he's the puppy's mama?"
Marty smiled. "No, I doubt Ole Bob be thet dumb, but as long as the puppy doesn't torment 'im too much a chewin' an' a chasin', Ole Bob'll be content to let 'im share his bed."
"He's so cute," said Missie. "I wish I could share my bed."
"Oh, no," said Marty firmly. "Animals belong outside, not in."
Thinking of Miss Puss, who did sneak in and share her bed, Missie did not belabor the
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