The Hope of Hattie Phelan: Volume I

31

Picking Sides

I swung the basket at my side as I kicked up dust on the path. I was walking fairly quickly since I wanted to get back to my room to read the rest of the book of Acts. I was awestruck and amazed at all the things that the disciples did in the name of Christ, especially their boldness to stand up for their beliefs. But I was busy and had to wait to get back.

I was on the way to Wally's place to drop off some more food for them. Miss Rebecka was sick and in bed so the food was mostly provided by my family and the Findlays. It saddened me that the family seemed to have no rest from struggle. First, Nathan didn't want to take the farm; second, their da died; and third, Miss Rebecka fell ill. What would happen next? I thought bitterly, before sighing. Just thinking about their struggles had my heart breaking for them.

I reached the edge of the Rickman homestead, looking out at the vast fields. I recalled whenever the sheet had flown away at Kenneth and Pearl's engagement party and I happened upon Wally. I laughed dryly at the memory of him getting upset that I fixed the plow for him. That seemed so long ago.

"Hattie?" a voice called out. I turned to see Wally stroll out of the barn with his journal and shovel, pencil behind his ear.

"Hello, Walter," I said, stepping off the road and onto his property to meet him. Wally's hair was whipped against his face by the fierce wind as he leaned the shovel on the barn before meeting me halfway. I brushed a few of my own strands behind my ear as I lifted the basket to show him the goods. "We have more deliveries."

"Good," he said, his gaze softening as he took the basket from my hand. "Want to walk with me to deliver them?"

I paused, not knowing why he would want me to follow him. My mind flickered to Nancy's words about him possibly being interested in me, and I internally shrunk at the thought. I did not want him to get the wrong idea.

"I don't know—" I said as he took the pencil from behind his ear to toss into the basket.

"David has been asking about 'Hatts' all day," Wally explained, not looking at me as he flipped through his journal before closing it again. "You don't have to, but all of us have been missing you and everyone."

"We've missed you all as well," I said softly as we started walking to the house. "Missed you at church."

"Mama's sick."

"Kenneth—"

"Someone needs to stay with Mama and David," Wally said, getting curt all of the sudden. "Nathan is stubborn and disappears off all the time so I'm stuck here, per usual."

I looked up at his now-darkened face. He obviously had a lot on his mind with his father's passing, but I could tell it was something deeper than that.

"Where does he go?" I asked before quickly adding, "if you don't mind me asking, anyway."

"I honestly have no clue," Wally shrugged with a dry laugh. "One day he is fishing for leisure, the next he is off riding his horse somewhere. He lives on every whim without thinking of the repercussions. And since Papa...it's only been worse."

With Nathan's acting out, it made me wonder how he was supposed to take over the farm once Kenneth moved off to seminary.

"How is he going to run the farm?" I asked, watching Wally's face as it shifted to a grimace.

"I honestly don't know," he breathed out as he kicked the mud off of his boots, leading me inside. He set the basket on the table in the kitchen before heading upstairs to check on his mother.

I started to take everything out of the basket to set onto the table. After sorting through the jars and breads, I took out Wally's notebook. It was a deep brown leather with a worn spine and corners. I flipped it open to see one of the smallest and clear handwriting inside. It looked like a farmer's log. He even titled the pages whether it was for his family's farm or the Gillans'.