Entangled Hearts

Chapter 3

It wasn't until the strap gave another and firmer reminder to Laura Mae. Martha had warned Philip that he and Eugene had better leave girl's books alone, that Laura Mae had been whipped for letting the boys walk her home from school with her.

Eli had gone to the hills for the day to choose and cut some cedar posts for the fence he was going to make around the new piece of land he had just plowed, so Clara was free, for one day, to do as she pleased. As it was Saturday, the girls were out of school. Martha was taking music lessons from Minnie Waller, three miles away, so she saddled her horse and rode to take her lesson.

Clara had not forgotten which kind of cookies Everett Whitmer liked best from the days when they used to share their lunches at school, so many years ago. She had just baked and filled a large earthen jar with them. She called Laura Mae and asked, "Have you heard Eugene say how Maria Beckman is since her sick spell?"

"Why, yes, Mother, I asked him yesterday, and he said that she is much better. She is able to do the housework again. Everything is so handy in the Mansion—I wish Pa would fix—"

Clara cut her off by asking, "Do you think Maria would like a taste of these freshly baked cookies, dear?"

"I'm sure she would. I will take some over to her if you want me to." Laura Mae knew if she took some to the Whitmer Mansion, Eugene and Everett would be given a good share of them too. Her gay little mind did not realize that her mother was sure of the very same thing. She hurried down the lane to the crossroads, then went west to the Whitmer Mansion with a lard bucket full of cookies.

The Whitmer Mansion always fascinated her. There was the one big room that seemed to be Everett Whitmer's one. It was adorned with souvenirs of all of his hunting days. There was a large elk head on the wall, the branching horns of which served as a rack for his rifles. In the room were many mounted birds, and in a glass case was a beautiful collection of rocks and a piece of shale, with some unpolished garnets in it. Then, there were the rugs, three beauties. Two were made from the skins of black bears, and the other was a glossy deer hide. The large room was Eugene's favorite too. He liked to stretch out on one of the soft rugs and read stories of Buffalo Bill and Kit Carson or just read plain Indian stories.

When Laura Mae reached the elegant home, she handed the bucket to Maria Beckman, who met her at the door. "Mother sent you a taste of her cookies. I hope you will like them."

"T'anks, t'anks, your mudder is so totful. How is she?"

"She is well, thank you," Laura Mae said with a smile, partly because the brogue always amused her.

"Come in," the kind Scandinavian woman invited.

"Thanks, but I will have to hurry right back home today. I wish I could stay and play. Mother said to come straight home."

"Den I will empty your bucket." Maria hurried into the pantry and brought the empty bucket back, smiling as she handed it to the little girl. She closed the door softly as the child skipped down the walk to the front gate. Eugene was gathering worms near the gate, and he stopped Laura Mae as she was ready to leave the yard.

"Come, try fishing with me, Laura Mae. They ought to bite well today," he said, with a boyish radiance.

"Thank you, Eugene, but I will have to hurry home."

"Ah, come on, please," he begged. "We'll hurry around the bends on Cotton Creek, throwing the line in as we go. It won't take very long to fish to the crossroads. I have plenty of bait already caught."

"Well, all right, then, if we hurry. Father will soon be home with his new fence posts, and I want to be there when he comes." Eugene did not understand the full meaning of those last words, but he hurried for his fishing pole. When he came back, he offered it to his little friend, but she chose to watch for grasshoppers to use with the angle worms, while Eugene did the fishing.