英语小说：Where The Heart Leads（The End）

英语小说：Where The Heart Leads（五）

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WHERE THE HEART LEADS
by Kim Vogel Sawyer (fiction)

Published by Bethany House Publishers
ISBN: 9780764202636
Copyright (c) 2008 Kim Vogel Sawyer
WHERE (Part 5 of 5)
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Both Abby and Gussie beamed, clapping their hands. Obviously they'd
been coaching Lena in preparation for his homecoming. Lena's valiant
attempt at speaking his name brought a smile to his face and he
said, "That's right." He bounced her a couple of times on his arm,
making her giggle. Her fingers slid back into her rosy little mouth,
and she reached for Pa. Thomas experienced a sense of loss as he
relinquished her. But then Gussie and Abby danced forward, each
taking one of his hands.

Pa, with Lena in one arm, picked up Thomas's bag and heaved his
great shoulders in a slow shrug. "Well, now that our Thomas is here,
we can go home."

Thomas fell into step between Pa and Summer, and the two little
girls skipped along in front of him, getting in his way. He watched
his step as he spoke. "I'm eager to get to the homestead--to say
hello to Daisy and maybe take a ride before it gets dark. Are the
strawflowers blooming? I'd like to take a bouquet to 'Grossmutter's'
grave tomorrow--if that's all right."

A wave of sorrow accompanied his last comment. Although his dear
great-grandmother had been gone more than three years now--passing
away peacefully in her sleep midway through Summer's last
pregnancy--Thomas still missed her with a fierce ache. He hadn't
even been able to attend her funeral, caught in studies halfway
across the United States. But during every summer trip to Kansas,
he'd spent considerable time at the tiny gravesite where
"Grossmutter" rested near Summer's first hu*****and and their four
children, all of whom had died of typhoid fever as they traveled
through Kansas.

Although the baby boy Summer had borne during the first year she was
Thomas's new mother was also buried there, Thomas rarely sat at that
grave. The infant hadn't lived more than a few minutes and hadn't
even been given a name. Baby Boy Ollenburger, as his tombstone read,
didn't seem real to Thomas somehow.

"Ja, if you want to visit 'Grossmutter's' grave, we can make that
work." Pa's solemn tone reflected Thomas's thoughts.

"Thank you, Pa."

They reached the end of the boardwalk, where two wagons waited, both
with horses lazing within the confines of their leather rigging.
Pairs of plodding, dependable oxen had pulled his father's wagon for
as long as Thomas could remember. He looked around in confusion.
"Where are Arndt and Bruno?"

Summer and Pa exchanged a look that made Thomas's stomach pinch.

"Son," Pa said, his head low, "some changes we have made since last
time you were home."

Why would Pa get rid of the oxen? He needed the beasts to turn the
gristmill's large paddles to face the wind; horses weren't strong
enough. The twinge in Thomas's middle increased. "Changes?" He
looked from one parent to the other while Gussie and Abby blinked up
at him.

"Ja." Pa took a deep breath, as if preparing to share something of
importance, but Summer touched his sleeve.

"Let's wait until we're at the house to visit with Thomas, shall we?
It's warm here in the sun, and Little Lena is ready for her
afternoon nap."

Pa let out his breath in a way that indicated great relief. His gaze
flicked between Thomas and Summer, and he nodded his head, gently
patting Lena's back as she drowsed on his shoulder. "That is sound
thinking. Come."

But instead of leading Thomas to a wagon, Pa headed straight through
town. Pa's brown boots thudded against the raised walkway, matching
the thumping of Thomas's heart. They made two turns to reach a
residential area. There, he followed Pa into a small two-story
house. When he saw the familiar furnishings from the
homestead--"Grossmutter's" and Summer's chairs, Pa's homemade bench
draped with the worn patchwork quilt, and the handmade table and
chairs where he had eaten many meals with his father, great-
grandmother, and Summer--he couldn't remain silent. "You 'live' in
Hill*****oro? Why didn't you tell me you left the homestead?"

Pa shook his head, frowning when Lena stirred on his shoulder.
Instead of addressing Thomas, he turned to Gussie and Abby. "Girls,
up to your room and play for a little bit. Stay quiet, though, while
your sister sleeps. When she wakes, your mother will fix a snack for
you."

Abby caught Gussie's hand, and the pair scampered up an enclosed
staircase that divided the little house in two. Pa started after
them, but he paused at the base of the stairs, peering back at
Thomas with sad eyes. "Summer will show you where you sleep. I will
put Lena in her bed, and then we will talk."

Thomas clamped his jaw against all the questions that burned on his
tongue. He picked up the bag Pa had left lying inside the front
door, and trailed Summer through the kitchen to a lean-to at the
back of the house. The ceiling sloped downward at a sharp pitch,
forcing Thomas to duck to keep from hitting his head on the rafters.
His old rope bed filled almost half of the room, the head and foot
fitting snugly between opposite walls. Next to the head of the bed
stood his chest of drawers, with a shelf above it holding many of
his boyhood belongings.

For a moment, a picture of the spacious room he had occupied in
Nadine's home flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. But then he
noticed the neatly made bed, the colorful quilt stretched smoothly
over the mattress, and the arrangement of his favorite books and
childish toys on the shelf. Someone had tried to make this little
room welcoming. He kept silent the disparaging thoughts. Dropping
his bag, he sat heavily on the quilt. The groan of the ropes echoed
the groan of his heart.

Summer linked her fingers together and stood quietly in the doorway
of the lean-to. The same sadness he'd seen in Pa's eyes lingered in
Summer's dark-eyed gaze.

Thomas clamped his hands over his knees. "Summer, why are you living
in Hill*****oro? What happened to the homestead? Who's manning the
mill?"

Summer's lips trembled for a moment. "The gristmill is closed."

"Closed!" Thomas jolted to his feet, remembering too late the low
height of the ceiling. His head collided with an overhead rafter,
and he plunked back down. Summer rushed to him and ran searching
fingers over his scalp. He gently pushed her hands aside. "I'm
fine." Truthfully, his head throbbed, but that pain was minimal
compared to the ache in his chest. "Why didn't Pa tell me?"

Summer sank down beside him. "He didn't want to worry you. He feared
that if you knew, you would rush home before you'd finished your
education."

Yes, that would be like Pa--thinking of Thomas instead of himself.
But Thomas could have helped...somehow. "But it was operating when
I was here last summer."

Summer looked to the side. "He did what he could the last two
harvests, for those who brought him their wheat."

Thomas thought back, recalling how the grinding seemed to take much
less time last summer than in prior years. Pa had joked that they
were getting efficient, finishing early, but now he realized fewer
people must have come to Pa. He drew a hand down his face. "So he
sold the homestead and mill?"

Summer's expression turned sad. "No. So many people from Gaeddert
have moved to nearby towns, no one was interested in purchasing the
homestead. It sits empty." She paused, her throat convulsing. "It
makes your father very sad."

Tears stung behind Thomas's nose as he considered how difficult it
must have been for Pa to leave the house and buildings he'd
constructed with his own hands. So many dreams were poured into that
land, dreams carried from across the ocean and planted with high
hopes. Now those dreams had been swept away like dust in a
Kansas windstorm.

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Paperback: Today's read ends on page 25.