Free Once Upon a Summer by Janette Oke

to instill in me.
    “No, Joshua,” he answered, “I best git back to the cuttin’. Had to go in to the smithy to git some repairs done or I’d be home at it now. Seein’ how I was comin’ by on my way home, I was pleasured to have the company of yer great-granddaddy when I heerd he was in town and lookin’ fer a way out.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “We all most appreciate that. Grandpa will be much obliged.”
    “No trouble—my pleasure.” He turned then to my great-grandpa. “Nice to have met you, Mr. Jones. Hope that we have the pleasure of gittin’ good acquainted-like.”
    “And I thank you sincerely,” said my great-grandpa, ex-tendin’ his hand, “for the safe and appreciated transport—and for the enjoyable company. I’m sure that we will have future opportunities to get better acquainted.”
    Mr. T. smiled, nodded, and turned the team in a big arc and left the yard. I came alive with excitement. I could hardly wait to show Great-grandpa to Auntie Lou—or Auntie Lou to Great-grandpa, I wasn’t sure which. Something deep inside of me told me that they belonged to each other. I guess maybe it was those clear blue eyes that looked like the whole world was a fun place to be.
    “Come on in, Great-grandpa.” I hurried him. “I’ll bring in yer things later.”
    He picked up one small bag, and I grabbed a couple of suitcases and we went through the gate, around to the back porch and into the kitchen.
    Lou was jest lifting golden-crusted bread from the oven as we walked in. Her face was flushed and her hair curled around her forehead.
    “Lou,” I blurted out before she could even look up. “Great-grandpa’s here.”
    She put down the hot pan and turned to us. For a very brief time they looked at one another, and then with a glad cry Lou rushed to him. He was ready for her, his arms held open wide. They laughed and hugged and laughed again. Anyone watchin’ would never have guessed that they were seein’ one another for the very first time. I saw tears on the cheeks of each of them. I wasn’t sure whose tears they were. Great-grandpa squeezed Lou close.
    “Louisa,” he said, “little Lou. You’re just like your daddy said.”
    “Oh, Grandpa,” she pulled back now, “it’s so good to have you. So good. But how did you get here?”
    “A kind neighbor.”
    “Mr. T. Smith brought him,” I offered. I wanted to be sure that they still knew that I was around.
    “Sit down.” Lou was still in a happy fluster. “Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee. Josh, you run to the well and get some cream.”
    “No need for me, my dear. I drink my coffee black.”
    Lou nodded to Great-grandpa and turned to me again.
    “Josh, do you want to whip up some grape juice for yourself?”
    The grape juice was always kept on the pantry shelf. It was jest a matter of dilutin’ it some with cold well water. I was even allowed the liberty of sprinklin’ in a bit of sugar.
    “You know,” said Great-grandpa, “I think that maybe I’d prefer a bit of that grape juice, too. It was rather a warm trip sitting out there in the sun—and Lou,” he added with a twinkle in his eye and a small twitch of his mustache, “just one slice of that delicious-smelling bread.”
    I fixed three glasses of the grape juice while Auntie Lou sliced some fresh bread and put out some homemade butter and crabapple jelly.
    We had fun around the table. Great-grandpa told some stories about his long trip on the train—how one big lady had motion sickness, and how a little man with a funny box was discovered to have a pig in the passenger car. He also told of a mother with three small children who was havin’ a very tryin’ time until my great-grandpa offered to play games with the little ones. He said it made the miles go quicker for him, too. The young woman cried when she thanked him at the end of her journey.
    All at once I glanced at the clock. The time had been racin’ by and I had lots of chores that needed doin’ before