Wonderful Lonesome by Olivia Newport Page A

know that.”
    He shrugged one shoulder and looked at his feet.
    She sat in a chair and pulled him onto her lap. “God will provide, Levi. You must believe that. God gives us food to nourish us, and when we eat it we show that we are grateful for God’s gift. Do you understand?”
    Levi dragged his bare toe in a circle on the floor. When had he gotten tall enough to still reach the floor when he sat in Abbie’s lap? He was going to be lanky like his brothers.
    “I hope Willem is grateful for the food you’re taking him.”
    “I’m sure he will be. Now help me pack the picnic. Get me a jar of apples from the back porch, will you?”
    “We didn’t grow those apples,” Levi said. “ Mamm had to buy them from the English .”
    “They were too small for the English to sell in their market, and she got a very good price on the whole bushel. Now go get me a jar.”
    Abbie ran down the mental list of foods she would use to entice Willem on a midday picnic. She had fresh bread, egg salad, spiced apples, half a sponge cake, and salt pork. And she would be sure to take plenty of water. It would be an act of faith that surely God would soon send rain.

    Abbie smiled down at Willem from the buggy bench, and he leaned on the fence post with both arms.
    “You must have driven halfway around my farm to find me out here,” he said.
    “I very nearly gave up and thought perhaps you had gone into Limon and didn’t mention it to me.”
    “Now why would I do that when you make such fine company?”
    “What are you in the middle of?”
    Willem liked the way her nose scrunched when she asked questions instead of coming right out with what was on her mind.
    “I can’t seem to grow anything,” he said. “But I’m thinking of marking off a road from the back side of my property.”
    Abbie smiled. “We go that way all the time anyway. Might as well make it a faster way.”
    “I was pretty sure you would figure that out.” Willem raised his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Why have you tracked me down out here in the far corners?”
    She brightened further. “I packed a picnic. Let’s drive somewhere and find a nice spot.”
    “A picnic? For no reason?”
    “Your favorite cake. Admit it. You can’t resist.”
    Willem looked over his shoulder in the direction of his future road. He had wanted to pace off his planned route and begin calculating how many stones he would need to line the edges for the entire length. If conditions persisted, dry soil would blow off toward Kansas and leave stones uncovered. He would rather have had a good crop and have to dig rocks out. Willem looked again at Abbie’s face shining under the brim of the bonnet she wore over her prayer kapp and admitted what he was doing did not qualify as urgent. And a man did need to eat lunch, after all.
    “All right, then.” He brushed his hands together to clear them of dirt. “But I want you to let me drive.”
    “Of course.” Abbie slid over on the bench.
    Willem hoisted himself into driving position and signaled the horse to make a wide turn. Abbie was a good driver but too slow. She would wander all over searching for the perfect spot—which of course did not exist. A picnic called for temperate weather, not oppressive heat. A picnic called for shade, not one exposed field after another. A picnic called for a cool breeze off a lake or river, not dust blowing in their eyes. Had Abbie even thought about these realities, or did she see in her mind’s eye the river and oak trees of Ohio rather than the dried creeks and half-dead scrub oak of Colorado? Willem wondered how long it would take to grow a decent shade tree in this part of the country. Maybe their grandchildren would be able to sit under one.

    Abbie spread a quilt out on the ground. The spot of shade Willem had spied was barely big enough for the two of them to sit beside a large bush, but she did not complain. They had not passed any more promising options, and at least it was a patch