[Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm (31 page)

Read [Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm Online

Authors: Janette Oke

They had their lunch in the shade. It had grown warm, and they felt contented and sleepy. While she repacked the lunch basket, Henry stretched out to look at the softly drifting clouds above them. He grinned as he watched Danny mimic him—on one side, leaning his head on one little fist.
“The clouds are white,” mused the little boy.
“They’re white,” agreed Henry.
“Sometimes they’re black.”
Henry turned to study the little boy’s face. “Do you know what makes the difference?”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head.
“The sun.”
“The sun?”
“Yes. If the clouds are too thick to let the sun shine through, we have dark, cloudy days. Sometimes they even look mean and ugly. If the sun can shine on them, they look white and fluffy. Pretty. If we could look at them from the other side, way up where the sun lives, they would always look woolly white and fluffy.”
“You mean on God’s side?”
“God’s side,” said Henry. “He has a very different way of seeing things.”
Henry was aware that Amber had ceased stacking dishes. Was she, too, thinking about the ctouds—the sun—and God?
“I like the white ones best,” Danny noted.
“I think we all do. But we need the dark ones. They bring the rain—make things live and grow. But we’re always glad when they have done their work and gone away.”
Danny sat up and spread out his little-boy hands. “‘Cause if we didn’t have rain—we wouldn’t have lakes. Then we couldn’t go fishin’.”
Henry reached out and tousled his hair. “That’s right, my little man. And if we’re going to catch enough to share with your papa Sam and grandma, we’d best get back at it.”
He didn’t have to offer a second invitation.
They saw one another often. Henry no longer had to wonder if his invitations might be spurned. He was greeted with a smile that touched not just her lips—as she would have welcomed a customer—but lit up her whole face. And Danny always ran to meet him, claiming his hand as he chattered about some new adventure or led him to see an exciting discovery.
One evening the two sat companionably on her front porch after Danny had been tucked in. They listened to the sounds of the evening, drinking cups of steaming coffee. The two willow chairs her father had fashioned—before the arthritis—had been pulled closer together. Within arm’s length, Henry noticed. He quietly reached for her hand that rested on the smooth, formed willow arm.
She glanced up, her fingers tightening on his. “It’s peaceful ... isn’t it?”
He nodded. He had been feeling the same thing. “Is ... is life getting ... a little easier?” His voice was soft.
She nodded. Her grip on his hand tightened.
They sat in silence. He longed to know her thoughts, but he did not want to break into the moment with a question.
At last she spoke again. “For a while I thought that sun above the awfully dark cloud would never shine on me again. But it was there—all the time. On God’s side. I just had to let it come through.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I’m glad it has.”
Nearby crickets chirped a unison song. Somewhere off in the distance a dog barked and was answered by another.
“I ... I’m going to be making a little trip,” said Henry. “I had scheduled some time off to attend my little sister’s wedding. Well... there isn’t to be a wedding now. Things didn’t work out.” There was some edge to the words. He still ached for Christine and her heartbreak. “I’m still going to go. Up to Athabasca. To my folks’.”
“That ... that will be nice for you.”
“I wondered... is there any chance you and Danny could come with me?” He turned toward her. The streetlamp illuminated her face, making her hair golden brown, her eyes even more violet.
“I ... you’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“I’d ... I’d really like that.” He thought he saw something glistening at the corner of her eyes.
“The folks will be so happy to meet you. I’ve told them about you.”
“You have?”
“I have. I’ve ... I’ve told them about Amber. Not Sam. Do you mind?”
He thought for a moment that she was going to cry. She didn’t. Instead, she lifted her chin and looked at him steadily. “I like that. I would love to be Amber ... again.”
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. It was a promise that she accepted.
CHAPTER
Twenty-Three
It was late when they finally pulled up to the familiar house in Athabasca. The porch light lit the walkway and the log bench on the wooden stoop. Lights from inside splashed out through the curtained windows, making patches of yellow wash over the clipped green lawn. For Henry, it was coming home. But coming home in a different way. Not so much for approval—but for blessing. He knew in his heart that they would love Amber and her small son, but he wanted them to actually share in his joy at finding her again. At being invited by eyes and smile and outstretched hand to share in her life. That was what made Henry’s heart sing as he reached down and turned off the ignition, then gave her a smile and a nod.
“Here we are.”
Her return smile seemed just a bit hesitant. He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You’re going to like them—I just know it.”
“That’s not what worries me.”
Before Henry could respond, the door flew open. A woman stood there, bathed in light from behind. She peered out into the night, hands clasped in front of her, face softly framed by the halo of hair.
“She looks sweet,” Amber breathed.
“She is,” the young man answered. “She really is.”
Amber stirred. “She’s waiting.”
Henry moved quickly, leaving the car, opening Amber’s door, leading her forward.
Elizabeth stood patiently, her face expectant as she watched them come.
“Mama,” Henry said as he reached her. He rarely called her Mama. It was his special little term of endearment. He took her in his arms and held her for what seemed a long time. Tears glistened on the older woman’s face. He kissed her forehead and she kissed his smooth-shaven cheek before he finally released her.
“This is Amber. My mother.”
They exchanged greetings. Amber was given a welcoming embrace. Henry knew they would have much to say to each other.
Other figures crowded into the doorway. Henry was gripped in the bearlike hug of his father, who then greeted the young woman in a more gentle and subdued fashion, yet with great warmth. She smiled her relief to Henry. She was part of the family.
A young woman stepped forward about the same time that a big husky crowded into the circle, his tail wagging his entire body. There was no doubt the dog remembered Henry, and his face got an excited licking when he squatted down to greet his old companion.
But then Henry stood and turned to Christine. He held her close and rocked her back and forth as he signaled his care and concern. She clung to him and wept. Henry was once again sharing another’s grief.
“Where’s the child?” Elizabeth’s question brought everyone’s attention back to the present. Henry laughed. “He’s sound asleep. In the backseat.”
“Oh,” murmured Elizabeth in grandmotherly-like care. “Bring the poor little fellow in, and we’ll get him to bed.”
Henry gave Christine a final kiss on the top of her head and turned to fetch Danny, Amber at his side. They soon returned, Henry carrying the sleeping boy and Amber his overnight bag.
“Mom—you’ll be letting in mosquitoes,” Henry joked as Elizabeth stood at the open door.
“I don’t think they’ll want to come in here,” laughed Wynn. “They don’t like smoke. Christine cooked supper.”
His attempt to lighten the atmosphere worked, and they all laughed together.
“I was just joshing,” Wynn eventually explained. “She’s a great cook. She even remembers how to make pemmican.”
Elizabeth was totally immersed in caring for the young boy. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered when she finally got a glimpse of the sleeping little face. Henry kissed the boy’s head and smoothed back his hair while Elizabeth removed the shoes.
“I’ve put a cot in the middle room,” Elizabeth explained to Amber. “I do hope you don’t mind sharing a room with him, dear.”
“Not at all.”
“I’m afraid it’s a bit crowded. Not much room—”
“It will be fine. Just fine.”
And it was fine. Clean and fresh and airy with lacy curtains at the windows and a homemade comforter on the two beds. It took little time to get the small boy tucked between snug flannel sheets.
Soon the rest were gathered in the living room. There was no fire in the hearth as the night was warm—not just from the mild weather but from the warmth of this family gathering. They were together once again.
Henry hoped with all his heart—though they had not yet spoken of it—that the family would soon include two new members. As he looked around the room at the happy faces and listened to the soft chatter, he was sure there would be an abundance of welcome. He had never felt happier in his entire life.
The next few days were spent with the Delaneys getting to know Amber and Danny. It was not difficult. Danny was the catalyst that drew them together. They laughed at his antics, shared his adventures, and marveled again at the special gift of childhood. They walked and picnicked, canoed and fished, played games and romped with Teeko. It was relaxing, family-fun time, and it passed all too quickly.
Toward the end of the short visit, when Henry was confident that Amber felt comfortable left in the company of Elizabeth, he set out to have some private time with his sister. “I think Christine and I will check out that strawberry patch we used to visit.”
“That’s a good idea,” Elizabeth said. “You may not find much left, but there may be a berry or two hiding out.” Amber nodded her assent. He had already discussed his plan with her.
The two didn’t even reach the old strawberry patch. As soon as they were out of sight of the small town, Christine crossed to a large log and settled herself on it, setting her pail aside. “There aren’t any strawberries,” she said simply. “We may as well save our energy.”
Henry did not argue but lowered himself to the leaf-strewn ground.
“I’d like for us to talk,” Henry said directly. They had always been frank and open with each other.
“I wanted to talk too.”
He plucked a fresh blade of grass and placed one end in his mouth, enjoying the fresh taste from the broken stem.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
Christine did, pouring out the entire sorry story of her courtship and breakup.
“I don’t need to tell you that you certainly made the right decision,” he said when she had finished, wiping away her tears.
“I know,” she admitted, “but it sure was not an easy one.”
“It’ll get easier—as time goes on. You will get over him, you know.”
“In a way,” said Christine honestly, “I think I already have ... sort of. I can pray for him now ... honestly. For his salvation. For his safety. I hear he’s joined up. It all frightens me. Dad is sure we’ll soon be in a war. He doesn’t talk about it much. Doesn’t want to worry Mom.”

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