Free A Winter's Promise by Jeanette Gilge

in his face.
    She picked up the razor, keen enough to sever bone,
    folded it, and put it in her apron pocket. She would hide it well. Clenching her jaws to keep her teeth from chat tering, she took off her ove rshoes and coat. The dirty dishes sat on the table accusing her, but she ignored them. She filled the stove with wood, shoved the bread and Kaffee Kuchen in the oven, and threw herself face down on the bed, thinking that if one of the children so much as moved, he ’ d wish he hadn ’ t.
    “ I ’ m done, ” she wept. “ I can ’ t struggle anymore. ” Her back was cold, but she didn ’ t want to move to reach for a cover. Let the wind howl and the windows rattle, she thought. I don ’ t care. Probably Al will come home next week, or who knows when, and find us all frozen stiff. I t ’ ll serve him right.
    From habit Emma started to pray, “ Oh, Lord, help me, ” but she choked back the words. What was the use? God didn ’ t care. Al didn ’ t care. Nobody cared. Funny, she thought, I don ’ t even feel like crying anymore. I just want to die.
    Thump! Bump! There was someone at the door!
    Emma scrambled to her feet, smoothed her hair, and pulled her apron straight on the way to open it. She was halfway across the room when it burst open and a man, so snow-covered she couldn ’ t tell who it was, stood in the doorway.
    “ Help me with these confounded buttons! ” Al ’ s voice boomed as he pulled his snow-crusted “ turkey ” , off his back and dropped it with a thump.
    The children flew out of the bedroom. “ Papa! Papa! ”
    “ Wait now! Let Papa shake off his coat, ” Emma yelled over the din. She dug the snow out from around his buttons, then she held back the children so Al could shake his coat out the doorway.
    She hurried to the bedroom to lay out dry clothes for him, calling, “ How on earth did you get home in this storm? ”
    “ Got a ride with Aaron Nelson to his house! ” h e yelled back. “ Only had to walk the last couple miles. ”
    “ Oh, dear, ” Emma said to herself. “ He didn ’ t, get to stop at Ma and Pa ’ s. Ma must be so disappointed. ”
    Albert bounced on his toe. “ You got to ride on his sleigh, with the horse? ”
    “ Yup! Sure did. I ’ ll tel l you all about it soon as I get dry clothes on. ”
    Albert kept up a steady stream of chatter as Al changed, while Fred and Ellie bounced and squealed. Why was Mr. Nelson the first one to have a horse, Al bert wanted to know. Was he rich? Where did he get it? How much did it cost? What color was it? What did the sleigh look like?
    Al explained that Mr. Nelson wasn ’ t what some peo ple consider “ rich, ” but he thought a horse was impor tant, and that he shared it with other people whenever he could.
    The boys scampered along beside him as he carried his wet clothes to the door and hung them on hooks. E l lie waited, her arms in the air, while he buttoned his vest. When he finished he swooped her up, hugged her, and tossed her in the air. She squealed and laughed, while the boys yelled, “ My turn! My turn! ”
    Al grinned over his shoulder at Emma and called over the children ’ s clamor, “ Bread smells good. Almost done? ”
    “ Bread ’ s not, but the Kuchen is, ” she said. “ Coffee ’ ll be ready in a minute. ”
    She ’ d wait, Emma decided, to tell him about her struggles until the first excitement of being home died down. Besides, she needed to sort out her feelings, too. She wasn ’ t sure she wanted to let go of that put-out feel ing toward Al. He hadn ’ t ask ed her how she was, or how things had gone—just came in and started making demands right away. Still, it was so good to hear his voice, to hear the little ones laugh, to have his huge frame almost fill the room.
    Well, hello, little fella, ” she heard Al say in the spe ci al tone he reserved for babies. He picked Georgie up and held him at arm ’ s length, and the baby wiggled and si ghed. “ Look at ‘ im laugh, will ya?