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In Apple Pie Order

By Joi Copeland

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CHAPTER ONE
Sweat trickled down Rose Wallace's back. Sun beat down on her forehead. Heat this late in the season was abnormal. Rose hoped it wasn't a sign of a terrible winter. How would she be able to do the chores, take care of two little ones, and move about in a lot of snow all by herself?
Rose brushed the moisture from her face. Of course, she'd forgotten to put on her bonnet. Would she ever learn? She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. Isaiah wrapped his arms around their dog, Bucky, and giggled. Graci, her seven-year-old daughter, sat nearby, a book in her hands. Her lips tilted. Her rays of sunshine in a difficult time. Rose rubbed her stomach. This little bundle of joy would complete her family.
Rose's heart squeezed. They should be a family of five. The baby kicked, pulling her away from her thoughts. "Yes, baby, I know. Let the past stay in the past."
Rose sighed and reached for the last apple on the branch. Apple picking season now over, she had to store the apples until next year. One more year with just her and her babies.
"Isaih, Graci, help Mama lift the basket of apples, okay?"
Her four year old's face lifted, the sun making a halo around his head. "Sure, Mama."
Graci nodded and tucked the book in her dress pocket. "Be right there, Mama."
Her sweet boy and helpful daughter. How would she raise them on her own? She didn't have a clue. Rose and Isaiah gripped one side of the basket, Graci the other. Together, they hoisted the apples into the house.
Isaiah dropped his side of the basket. "Can I go back outside with Bucky?"
Rose propped one fist on her hip. "Isaiah, it must be in apple pie order."
Her son scrunched his nose. "What's that mean again, Mama?"
Graci giggled. "He forgets all the time, Mama."
Rose chuckled. "Yes he does. It means everything must be organized. If we dropped the basket here and not in the kitchen, we would make extra steps in canning the apples, making pies, and apple butter."
Understanding crossed her son's face. "Oh." He picked up his side and lifted the apples into the kitchen. "Now can I go play with Bucky outside?"
"You may. Leave the door open so I can hear you, though. And stay away from the creek."
"Yes, Mama." Isaiah wrapped his arms around her growing middle and giggled. "I felt the baby again."
"This little one sure is jumpy today." Rose kissed the top of her son's head. "Be safe out there."
"Yes, Mama." Isaiah ran out the door, Bucky on his heels.
"Mama, I want to help you in the kitchen. May I?" Graci's blue eyes filled with hope.
"I would like nothing more, precious girl. We have a lot to do in here today."
Graci nodded and donned her apron.
Rose glanced at the order on the counter. If she wanted to go into town tomorrow, she needed to have the orders complete, the apples canned, and the apple butter made. Without Joseph, she had to have an income to provide for her and her little family. Baking took most of the day. Rose thanked God for Graci. Without her, it would have taken a lot longer, especially in her condition. Rose stopped only to eat lunch with the children. By the time evening descended, her house smelled of baked apple goods. Boxes covered her table, each order completed and ready to be placed in the wagon. Rose blew a breath out the side of her mouth.
"Come on, little ones. Time for bed."
"Ah, Mama. Do I have to?" Isaiah wiped his eyes with his little fist.
Grace pulled on Isaiah's arm. "Mama's sleepy, too, Isaiah."
Rose bit back a grin. "I sure am."
Shoulders slumped, her son trudged to his bedroom. He threw off his clothing and tossed them on the floor. Rose raised one eyebrow at him. Frowning, he scooped them up and put them in his basket. Graci climbed in bed next to Isaiah. Rose inched down on the bed next to them and brushed her fingers through their blond hair. Joseph was missing so much. She blinked back tears and pasted a small smile on her face.
"What should we pray for tonight, sweet ones?"
Isaiah scrunched his face before answering. "Snow. I like snow. And the baby to be a boy. And maybe for Pa to come home."
"Pa can't come home, brother. He's with Jesus."
A lump lodged in Rose's throat. "Well, we can certainly pray for snow. But we should be thankful for the baby, even if it is a girl. As for Pa..." Rose's voice broke, and once again, she found herself blinking back tears. "Graci's right. He can't come home to us."
Isaiah yawned and pulled the covers under his chin. "I know. I wish he'd stay home with us, though."
Rose nodded. "Me, too, sweet boy. Now let's pray. Lord, thank You for this day. Thank You for the sun. Tonight, Isaiah would like to ask for snow soon. Would You please see fit to provide a break in this heat and give us some snow? Thank You for this baby. We pray for Your will to be done whether it is a boy or girl. We are missing Joseph tonight. Please wrap Your arms around us and comfort us. Thank you for Your love and the gift of Your Son. Amen."
"Amen." Isaiah scooted on his side and wrapped his arm around Rose's neck. "Do you miss Pa, Mama?"
"Every single day." She kissed his forehead. "I love you both so very much. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."
As Rose left the room, she heard Graci's whisper, "Don't ask Mama about Pa. It makes her sad."
Rose left the room and closed the door behind her. Her lips trembled as she leaned against the frame. Was she that obvious? Her heart shattered in her chest. Did she miss her husband of eight years? Every minute of every day. And not for his help around the farm. She missed Joseph's laugh. When she crawled in bed at night, she missed his strong arms wrapping around her, taking away the stresses of the day. The way his eyes twinkled when he was up to something. Until that last day he was alive. Oh, how she wished she could go back and change things.
Tears ran down Rose's face. Yes, she missed her husband. If they hadn't moved to Colorado, would he still be with her? If they'd stayed in Wisconsin, would Joseph be alive and well?
Rose shook her head and wiped her face with the back of her hand. He may be alive, but he wouldn't be living. Adventure had always been in Joseph's blood. She knew it the day she met him when they were but children. He dragged her on many adventures throughout the years they'd grown up together.
Rose ambled into her bedroom and rubbed her belly. The baby would never know its father. Joseph would never know he had a third baby on the way. Crawling under the blankets, she wrapped her arms around her late husband's pillow and sobbed.
Lord, why did You allow him to be taken away so soon? He had so much to live for. And I have so many regrets.

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