Entangled Hearts

Chapter 2

Laura Mae could not content herself with sitting down to study when she could see so many jobs that she could do to help her mother. The dear, tired mother, who was wearing the very life out of her body, working like a slave from dawn until after dark, because her never idle husband demanded such work from her. She had been too submissive to his strict domineering ways when they were first married. Now, he hurled the word whip of "Lazy Cutter" in her face if she lagged fro utter fatigue. In the winter, she pitched heavy forks full of hay to hungry cattle and lugged large buckets of swill to squealing pigs, besides helping with the milking and keeping up the many other tasks about the house. In the summer, she raised turkeys and chickens and vegetables to sell. Those were only small jobs, as Eli Porter described them. Every plan in his head was to make money to save for some future use, but he never had a thought to save the tired muscles of his wife's overworked body. Though she helped him as much with the outdoor work, he never returned the favor in the house. There were clothes to wash and iron, bread to bake, cream to churn, besides the three hot meals that were prepared faithfully each day.

Laura Mae slipped out of her neat little school dress and put on a plainer percale one, then started, with a light heart, working from one task to another. She peeled potatoes and sliced the ham for supper, then dusted the chairs and organ in the parlor. She made Martha's bed and picked up the things that were strewn about her sister's bedroom. Martha could not be bothered about housework. (Her father had a goal for her. She was to become a great teacher in some college and earn a big salary, so it was permissible for her to devote all of her time to her school work if she wished. If their son, who was born before Martha, had not died in infancy, he could have been the professor and it would not have been so important Martha take up the work. One of Eli's children must reach the goal!) He was sure it could never be Laura Mae, for she wasted too much study time helping her mother, who did not need help, in his eyes, and she learned too many foolish songs and poems that had no sense to them. If Martha hand any time left when she finished her studies, she would read from the Bible as her father advised her to do. Sometimes if his eyes were sore from dust or hayseed blown into them during the day, he would have her read aloud to him for an hour or so from the pages of that Holy Book. His place in the one of the two church houses, that were in the little town, had not been vacant for years. He was a very religious man! Very religious, indeed! He and Martha, his favorite daughter would go to Heaven, anyway, even if the others did not. It gave him something to storm about, when Laura Mae and her mother chose to do up the work on Sunday and then slip away into God's woods for a few hours of rest, to study the beauties of nature, instead of trying had to keep awake in church, while the minister's lengthy sermon was being preached.

Laura Mae had the house all tidy and the supper table set when Martha reached home. The evening milk was brought in with its frothy foam ready to splash out of the tops of the battered pails. The mother, Clara Porter, who looked much older than her thirty-eight years, strained the milk into the bowl of the little old separator. Eli had to give his team the evening feeding of grain, while Clara and Laura Mae took turns at turning the handle of the separator. It was Eli's that was a hard life! He carried all of the responsibility, he thought.

Supper was placed on the table, with its red checked table cloth and the family of four seated themselves in silence. Eli then offered a very fitting but lengthy grace over the food and they began eating a menu that had long ago become tiresome from constant repetition.

At the close of the meal, Martha gave Laura Mae a sideways glance. She grinned then said, "There might have been a pretty little fight, all right, if I hadn't stopped it."

The father's ears were keen. "What do you mean, Martha? What fight are you talking about?" he demanded.

"When I reached the schoolhouse tonight, there were Eugene Whitmer and Philip Dreyer, those two orphans, waiting to win Laura Mae's favor by wanting to carry her books home for her. They were ready to fight over who would carry them when I stopped the fight," Martha explained, with the air of a matron.

"Tush, tush!" Such nonsense!" Eli said. "To think of kids having such foolish ideas! Laura Mae, do you encourage boys at your age? You are only a baby! Boys must never pay attention to my girls until they are near to twenty-five, I'll see to that! Your mother, I understand, had been courted when she was too young. It made her neglectful of work and harder to manage. Her father told me that he was mighty thankful to see her in my hands. I taught her to work!" He hit his chest with his closed fist.

A pain struck Clara's heart! If she only dared defend herself! Yes, she had had a girlhood sweetheart, just two years older than herself. Her father hated him, so he went away and later this flowery tongued, "Religious" young man, who was ten years older than herself, came into her home town and won the heart of her father and she thought that he had won her heart too, but when she saw her childhood lover, Everett Whitmer, again, she knew that she did not love Eli Porter. She had promised to honor and obey him and she had done this faithfully all through their wedded life. It was easier to bear her unhappiness when she worked very hard because her mind was on what she was doing.

Everett Whitmer had moved into the Oakdale valley and had taken up land adjoining that of Eli Porter. He had married, but his wife was always in poor health. They were never blessed with children so when Everett's brother's son, Eugene, was left and orphaned, they adopted him. What joy and comfort he brought into the little home! Everett prospered on his land and instead of hoarding away his money, he did as Eli and built a lovely home for his wife and boy. The new house that he built later became known as the "Whitmer Mansion" by all the people in Oakdale, because it exceeded all of the other homes so far in size and beauty. The beautiful home had not given joy to Mrs. Whiter long when was called to her "mansion on high", leaving Everett to care for Eugene and to raise him to manhood. It was Maria Beckman, the faithful housekeeper in the Whitmer home, who had kept Eugen so neat and clean during the eight years she had worked in the Mansion. Everett Whitmer never dreamed that Clara's love for home remained through all those years. She had harbored her secret deep in her heart and no one knew how it burned there, for there was no one she could tell it to. She could only be brave and struggle on.

"Laura Mae!" her father spoke again, "If you would only be sensible like Martha and attend to your school work, you would be better off. What else happened, who carried your books. Answer me."

Poor little Laura Mae's face flushed crimson and her hearts pounded in her breast. She knew the look in her father's eyes meant anger, she choked and could not answer. Eli turned to Martha. "Did either of the boys carry her books for her and tag along home with her?" he demanded.

Martha, eager to see Laura Mae criticized and especially eager to hold the favor of her father, answered, "Both of them left the schoolhouse with her, but she chose Eugene Whitmer to carry her books. Phillip Dreyer was manly enough to carry mine so I would not have to carry them home after I had studied in the library."

"That Whitmer brat!" Eli thundered. "I suppose that he will grow up to be like that fool uncle of his, he is livin' with. He will be a spendthrift, too, like as not! That Everett Whitmer is crazy to spend his money as fast as he earns it, on finery for his home. Bosh! He has had waterworks from the pump out in the yard. That kid don't know what work is and I hear that he gets an allowance of money? On the other hand," he raved, "That Dreyer kid will get proper trainin'. Charles Luden has told me, more times than once, how he makes that boy work and study too. He will get the right idea of life and likely grow to be a fine chap."

Laura Mae was trembling with fear as her father continued. "Just to teach you to keep away from boys I will tell it to you with this!" He sprang from his chair and seized the razor-sharp strap by the washstand, then proceeded to beat the child with it, while she cringed in his grip. "Now, clear that table and get to your studying!" he commanded, as he gave her a quick jerk. He hung the strap by the washstand and walked, calmly to the bookshelf, where he took down his large Bible to do his evening reading. Tears that welled in Laura Mae's eyes became so large that they flowed and crept down her soft white cheeks. Clara caught them on the sly, with a corner of her blue checked apron. The little girl understood that her mother's heart, and she knew she had it too, was breaking, but no word was spoken. Martha began studying in an easy chair, opposite her father in the parlor, while Clara and Laura Mae washed and wiped the dishes, then the younger girl opened her books out on the kitchen table to study there by her mother, who brought out the barrel churn and poured the sour cream into it. Her tasks were not yet finished.