The Greatest of These (Sequel to Kansas Summer) -- Faith

April 12, 2004

--Jenna

        I tie my chocolate hair back with a bandana and grab a jacket as I head out to the barn to help Colin with the morning chores, sitting down to shove my boots on in front of the door.  Once I am all bundled up, I open the door and walk quickly down to the horse pasture.    

        I wrap my open jacket tighter around me; it is brisk, though quite normal for Kansas this time of year.  A light frost covers the ground, but it is already starting to melt as the sun uncovers the shadow of the barn and the house.  The horses' ears perk as they see me coming from inside their stalls, knowing that I'm coming to let them out for the day as well as to feed them breakfast. 

        "Hold on a sec!" I tell them, scratching behind their ears.  I greet my handsome husband who sits hunched, fearless, beside one of our two cows, dutifully milking it, aware of how ridiculous he looks.  "Good morning, darlin'."

        Colin throws me a white smile hidden in a chapped, pink face.  "Good mornin' Jen.  Nice to see you out here again this morning."

          I have been coming out and helping in the mornings more and more often instead of sitting in bed.  It is of my own will, of course.  I can't use pregnancy as an excuse to spend a few more minutes under the covers, and I want to show my husband that I really do appreciate him.  I fear that I haven't been good enough to him these past few weeks, and this is the least I can do, I suppose.  However, I am blessed to have a husband as understanding, helpful, and patient as Colin, who immediately forgives me for everything.  But I'm sure (I chuckle to myself) that he knows that I am good at repaying debts.

        "It is a beautiful morning," I reply, putting the halters on Sierra and Cimarron, and clicking to them, leading them out into the pasture.  The horses whinny and kick their feet, impatient to be out in the open field.  Once we get inside the gate, I lightly smack them with the lead ropes to keep them inside the fence while I go to fetch their hay.  Sierra and Cimarron run up and down the fence line impatiently awaiting their breakfast.  

.        .        .

        Colin finishes up with the second cow and leads her out into the pasture at about the same time that I finish up with cooking toast and eggs for breakfast.  A few minutes later, my King walks in the door and immediately sheds his cap and jacket, pleased to find a warm meal awaiting him.  I set a plate down in front of him and take a seat to his left.  Colin prays over the meal, and then sets into his breakfast like a wolf who hasn't seen food in a week.  I can only smile.

.        .        .

        "See you tonight, my sweet," he promises me, grabbing me for an extra-long kiss. He dashes out to the truck and climbs in, slamming the door shut, and gunning the engine across the gravel, kicking up an awful dust cloud.  I smile as I close the front door and survey my work for today set out in front of me: dishes to wash, laundry to do, a house to vacuum, and a garden to weed.  It should keep me well occupied until Colin returns.  I smile, thinking about planning how to end his Monday on a happy note.

.        .        .

        The sound of gravel rattling outside alerts me to Colin's return.  I drop the dishes I am putting on the table, and rush to him.  Before I know it, I am in his arms, and he spins me around.  I sense that something is troubling him.

        "What's wrong, Colin?" I ask, forehead furrowing.

        He shrugs before answering me slowly.  "Well, it's not exactly bad, but it was a little nerve-wracking.  I--I'll explain it over dinner.  Meatballs tonight, right?"

        I can't help but feel worried, more than I should be, for Colin.  My past has taught me to be wary about everything, especially the safety of my husband.  I don't know what I would do if I lost him.

        Back in the house, I set dinner out on the table as Colin gets ready to eat.  "You--you weren't in any danger, were you?" I ask cautiously.

        "Well--I could have been."

        I turn to face him.  "What happened?" I exclaim.

        "Now Jen, calm down," he tells me.  "There was just a power spike at the store this afternoon.  Some sparks ignited a grain bag, but nothing serious; I was able to put it ot with a fire extinguisher.  I called the fire department and the electrician to check it out.  It's fixed now."  He looks at me to try and calm me.  "Jen, it's alright.  I'm fine, just shaken a little bit.  Jen?"  

        His intonation of worry comes from watching me as I shut my eyes and grip the countertop.  I hear his chair slide back from the table and immediately, two strong hands take mine off of the countertop, and I am spun around and held against the familiar body of my husband.  I grip his shoulders instead.  He presses me to himself, reminding me that he is with me.

        My voice is ragged from remembering the fire in Amsterdam that gruesomely claimed one of my friends.  "Suppose that you--you hadn't been able to put it out?  What if it had sparked--I don't know, the propane tanks?  You could have been--"

        Colin presses a finger to my lips.  "Shh, don't worry, Jen.  I'm here.  I'm here.  Nothing's going to happen.  It's going to be alright."  I force myself to nod, but deep in my soul, I can't help but feel paranoid, fearing for the safety of my darling husband.  I hold him tighter.