Dandelions on the Wind by Mona Hodgson

Author:Mona Hodgson [Hodgson, Mona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Historical, Romance, General
ISBN: 9780307731432
Google: Gi5UJ3COtoAC
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2013-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

Eight

Sunday morning, Woolly drove the wagon to Immanuel Lutheran Church with Gabi singing a happy song beside him. The reins slack in his hand, he directed Boone and Duden onto Salt River Road. Behind him, Mother Brantenberg chattered to Miss Maren about various women in the quilting circle.

Seemed wrong not to go to church, but going didn’t feel right either. At the breakfast table, Gabi asked if he was driving the wagon or if Oma would still drive. Naturally, they’d assumed he would join them. It’s what the Brantenberg family did on Sundays, even when it no longer felt like a family.

Mother Brantenberg announced that he would certainly drive, and he couldn’t say no. Didn’t know if he could ever again deny either of them. After his mother-in-law stomped off to the garden Thursday evening, he was nudged by a sudden memory of her asking him to stay after Gretchen died. The very next day with nary a word, he’d left her alone with his newborn.

“Dear, are you all right?”

Certain the endearing term wasn’t meant for him, Woolly glanced at the backseat. Mother Brantenberg rested her gloved hand on Miss Jensen’s arm. Concern laced her gray eyes.

“Oh. Fine. Yes. Thank you.” The tentativeness in the young woman’s voice didn’t pair well with her answer.

“You’re as quiet as a church mouse. You were all through breakfast too.”

“Just thinking, I suppose.”

His guess was that her thoughts were of family and Denmark. Now that he was here to help Mother Brantenberg with the farm and Gabi, the young woman might think of returning home. And if she weren’t here, his help—his presence—on the farm may be better appreciated.

Miss Jensen sighed. “Also, I’m enjoying the ride and the cooler temperatures. It’ll make the wheat harvest a more pleasant task tomorrow.”

“At the farm?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Miss Maren’s voice rose.

He looked at Mother Brantenberg.

“With your sore arm and all, I saw no point in it.”

“So, it’s my arm causing you to treat me like an outsider?”

No answer came. Even Gabi fell silent on the last mile into town.

As he reined the horses to a stop at a hitching rail in front of the brick church, he was glad to see that some things hadn’t changed. Pastor Adam Barklage greeted parishioners at the doorway. His steps reluctant, Woolly wrapped the reins, then moved around the horses and offered his hand to Mother Brantenberg.

Her feet on the ground, his mother-in-law let go of his hand. “Pastor Barklage will be pleased to see you.”

Woolly wasn’t so sure. He had plenty disdain for himself. How would the pastor and his parishioners not feel the same? They all knew of his abandonment. He was swinging Gabi to the ground when he heard his name.

“Woolly Wainwright!” The pastor rushed down the steps toward him, his hair now thinning on top and gray at the temples. “Why, it is you! I’d heard you were back.”

“Pastor Barklage.” Woolly reached to shake his hand, but quickly became enveloped in a welcoming embrace.

“If you aren’t a bright spot in a bleak aftermath.

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