but her tone certainly didn’t. And neither did the way she was still perched on the edge of that chair like she was ready to bolt at any moment. But, Adam would take what he could get. Go slow. Easy.
The Adam of years ago would never have put himself in such a position. No. That Adam had assumed that such work was unnecessary to sustain a strong marriage. Once married, a husband and a wife were one until death they did part. Why put energy into such a relationship? It was a foregone conclusion that the other person would be there.
Until it wasn’t. His first wife had proven with tragic competency that Adam couldn’t just assume Millie would stay and keep up her end of the bargain if she was unhappy.
Adam felt like this conversation was a foot deep in the thickest mud the prairie had to offer. But, he’d wanted to go down this road, so now was the time to follow through. “Great.”
They sat and stared at each other for several long seconds. Not great.
“Did your friend get all moved out?”
Adam blinked at the abrupt question. He knew their prior conversation about drought had made Millie uneasy, so he was surprised that she chose that topic. But she was trying, and Adam wasn’t about to cut her off.
“Yes, he and his wife should arrive in Kansas City by the end of next week. I hope they’ll get settled quickly. And be happy.”
“I’ve been praying for them.”
Adam stopped rocking at her words. Then, he made himself resume. That was probably the most personal thing Millie had ever said to him, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. More than anything, he wanted things to feel natural between them. Normal.
Adam hadn’t felt at ease and normal in this house for years. Not since the day he’d come home to find Sarah’s note that she was leaving him. But, he remembered his parents, who had always had a solid, stable marriage. They’d spent hours talking in the evenings. It had just been a part of his childhood. A good one.
“That’s nice. I’m also praying for them. Starting over won’t be easy, and I hope they find everything they’re looking for.”
“You pray, too?” She sounded surprised. “I mean, I know you pray for us before meals, obviously, and in church on Sundays, but you pray other times, too?”
Adam felt the ground steady beneath him. “Yes. I pray a lot. My relationship with the Lord has deepened significantly since my wife died.” Well, that came out wrong. “My first wife, I mean.”
“I know what you meant. I’m kind of the same. I found the church before my first husband died, but my faith has really grown since he passed.”
Adam knew the bones of her story. She hadn’t told him any of it herself, though, either in the letter she had sent him or in the brief conversations they’d had since her arrival. No, the people who had facilitated their marriage had filled Adam in on those details.
Was Millie aware that Adam knew those details? Maybe. But, it still felt too intimate to bring them up. Those weeks after her husband had died must have been terrifying.
“I’m glad. My faith has helped me through a number of hard times. I’m glad yours has done the same for you.”
“It has.” Millie was rocking steadily, looking into the fire. This silence still felt charged, but not so much as before. Progress.
Millie kept rocking, but her hands were fidgeting in her lap, fingers twisting and intertwining. “Will you tell me about drought?”
He managed to stop his head halfway through its rapid jerk in her direction. Her body was screaming that asking the question had been hard and awkward for her and that she feared his reaction—but he could tell that she feared drought more, and wanted answers. It didn’t take a genius to pick up on the fact that Millie worried about the future. A lot. That seemed fairly rational given what she had been through.
Adam had done his best to reassure her that he would take care of her and their family. But, Millie was still visibly concerned about being secure long-term. He understood that, given that she had recently found herself pregnant and homeless. But, it still kind of rankled. Even if he died tomorrow, he wasn’t the type of man to leave his family alone and unprotected. There were provisions in place.
“I’m not sure what you want to know, Millie. I mean, we haven’t been getting enough rain. Without rain, the crops aren’t getting any water. And they need water to grow.”
“So all those crops are going to die? I mean, there’s nothing you can do?”
Adam considered her question. Tried to give it respect and treat it seriously. “I don’t know. I don’t think all the crops will die. I sure hope not. But, when it comes to life in general and farming in particular, nothing is certain.”
“When will you know?”
Adam breathed out long and slow. He’d wanted a conversation and now he was getting one. “There’s not a clear answer to that. We’ve had some rain, so the situation isn’t dire. Just not as much rain as I’d like. The crops are okay for now, but there’s not a lot of margin if that little bit of rain dries up. So, we just have to wait and see.”
Millie looked down at her hands in her lap. She was still rocking. Still twisting her fingers as though she could pull answers or solace or whatever she was looking for there. “What about the cattle? They need water, too. Is this drought bad for them?”
“It’s not ideal, but the cattle can handle the lack of water better than the crops. The ponds haven’t dried up, yet, so that’s good. And, if it comes down to it, like last year, I can sell the nonessential cattle and take the rest to where there is water.”
“That’s what you did last year?”
“Yes. And we were okay.”
“Did you have to use all your savings last year? Like that family that moved away? Do you have any left?”
His savings? Was she that concerned about his ability to provide? Did she really doubt him that much? Adam clenched his jaw so hard it began to ache. What would it take for his wife to simply trust that he could be a good husband and father? He’d been trying so hard, but it still wasn’t enough.
This conversation was a bad idea.
Option 1: All the crops die. We still have the cattle. Things are lean, but we are fine. We still have shelter and food. But what about next year?
Option 2: The crops die. The cattle die. We use all of Adam’s savings. Things are lean, but we are fine. We still have shelter and food. But what about next year?
Option 3: The crops die. The cattle die. Adam’s savings are not enough and we lose the land. Adam can get a job in the city to support us?
Option 4: The crops die. The cattle die. Adam’s savings are not enough and we lose the land. Adam refuses to move to the city?
Millie usually used the time right after she woke up to map out the day. Today, though,
