Where Courage Calls: A When Calls the Heart Novel (19 page)

“I’m glad to be here with you,” Beth answered sincerely. “How can I help?”

“No, no. I got it almost ready. You set yerself down and put yer feet up.”

Marnie and Teddy had dug in to their Christmas stockings, and Teddy was already sucking on a hard candy he’d found. But Marnie carefully tucked hers away for later. Her face glowed as she showed Beth the new wool socks Molly had made, along with ribbons for her hair.

Edward soon joined them in the kitchen for a delicious breakfast. They chatted amiably about his work, answering his questions about the town. Beth was astonished at how frequently he traveled, how he’d become acquainted with much of the province. In fact, he seemed to know their own region quite well—as if he had spent time in the area.
If that is
correct, why is this his first visit?
she wondered idly.

Molly gave an unusually animated review of the Christmas programs. Beth and Frank looked at each other with some
surprise and not a little discomfort at her enthusiastic compliments, but Edward seemed fittingly impressed.

They were seated together in the parlor for their gift exchange before Beth realized she had nothing for Edward.
If I’d only known, I would
have found something,
she thought with dismay.

Teddy was in charge of distributing the packages that were around Molly’s little Christmas tree perched valiantly on its table, a few ornaments and tinsel hanging from it. He reached for a little box and handed it to Marnie, and she was thrilled at the small bottle of perfume she found inside. One by one, the gifts were unwrapped.

Beth had tucked her own contributions among the presents around the tree. A new pocketknife for Teddy and a book of poems she was sure Marnie would enjoy. For Molly, a set of ivory combs with little pearl beads across the top, and for Frank she had managed a pair of store-bought red wool mittens. Then she watched as Marnie opened the new dress which she and Molly had worked on together from the leftover material Beth had purchased in the fall. Teddy, who was somewhat less enthusiastic, opened a new shirt.

When Beth was presented with a small box, she smiled around the room, curious, since it had no name on it other than her own. She pulled off the wrapping and drew off the lid. Inside was a bright gold chain and a lovely dove-shaped pendant made from mother-of-pearl. Beth drew in a breath, shocked at such a lavish gift.

“I was thinking it was kind of a peace offering,” Edward said with some chagrin. “I hope you like it.”

Beth could feel her cheeks flush. What could she say? The gift was far more extravagant than any of the others—out of proportion, she felt, and unwarranted. She was sure it was not
purchased on a Mountie’s salary. She thanked him politely, embarrassed to say anything further.

A small fuss rose across the room as Molly pressed Teddy toward the next package, one she was insisting be given next. “An’ this says, ‘To Edward from Beth,’” he announced.

Beth could not hide her shock and cast a confounded glance toward Molly, who shushed her with a finger to her lips.

Edward accepted the package and played up the suspense, turning it over and over, even shaking it—though it clearly was soft and some type of clothing. Finally tearing the paper away, the multicolored scarf—uneven rows and all—that Beth had labored over tumbled out. He held it up with a surprised grin as Beth covered her face with her hands.

Undaunted, Molly announced proudly, “Beth knitted it.”

Edward chuckled. “Yes, I see—I’m sure it’s her first, and I hope not her last. I’m honored to have it. I’ll set a new fashion trend in Athabasca.”

He wound the scarf around his neck and smiled around the room, his gaze at last resting on Beth. His words came slowly and carefully, as if there were no one else listening. “You have so many wonderful talents, Elizabeth. I’m convinced there is nothing you could not accomplish if you try. I will cherish this gift as a tribute to what an amazing woman you are, and on frosty winter evenings I’ll find some way to tuck it under my tunic.”

For a moment Beth was spellbound. The green eyes gleamed with sincerity in a face distinctly more weathered and masculine than she remembered. His expression bore no resemblance to the mocking, irritating boy she had once known.

For the rest of the day, Beth avoided Edward’s gaze, confused by the stir of her sometimes-contradictory thoughts
and feelings. She spoke cordially to him as dictated by her upbringing, but her muddled emotions couldn’t manage more interaction than was unavoidable. After supper he gathered his bag, expressed his gratitude, and turned to head back out into the frozen landscape.

“Thank you for coming, Edward,” she said politely before he exited Molly’s foyer. “Please try to take care of yourself—I shall pray for your safety.”

His eyes held a warm expression. “I’m grateful that you might remember me charitably in prayer.” And then he was gone.

Beth had already tucked the expensive necklace away in a drawer and tried not to dwell on her conflicted feelings regarding Edward’s visit. She stole sheepishly into the kitchen, taking up a dish towel to work her way through the stack of clean plates.

“A nice fella,” Molly commented in her forthright way. “Ya like him?”

A deep flush rose into Beth’s cheeks. “I am not enamored with him, if that’s what you mean.” Her answer sounded clipped and terse.

“Ya sure?” A chuckle sounded from Molly, and Beth felt it was just too much. She dropped the dish towel onto the counter and hurried from the room, up the stairs, and retreated to her bed.

She buried her face in her pillow, opposing thoughts churning her stomach into knots. She had in no way intended to offend Molly, had wished she’d given some kind of response. But her emotions were all tied up with memories regarding Edward, and it was all too complex for her to sort out right now
.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” Beth called, though she was certain who was there.

“Can I come in?”

Beth sat up on the edge of the bed and tried to recover her composure. “Yes.”

Molly peeked around the door and entered cautiously, closing it quietly behind her. She crossed the room and sat down heavily next to Beth on the bed. “Appears I owe ya an apology.”

Beth shook her head. “No, no, Molly. It’s not you—I don’t know why I’m feeling so touchy.”

“Well, I didn’t mean ta upset ya none. An’ I’m truly sorry I did. Can ya talk about it?”

Beth drew in a long breath. “The truth is—” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, I don’t know what the truth is. I suppose that the truth is I don’t know what I feel or why.”

“Well then, why don’t ya start with what made my question so upsettin’.”

Beth studied a speck on the carpet. “I’ve always rather disliked Edward,” she began slowly. “And I’ve always known some people expected us to marry, mainly our . . . our mothers.” Beth could hear Molly sigh quietly.

“And I’m beginning to believe Edward’s expecting as much,” she continued. “But he . . . he has never been the type of man I want to share my life with. That is—well, at least, he wasn’t the type of
boy
I could respect. It’s different now. He’s not the same. I don’t know, but maybe he’s truly changing.”

Beth lifted her eyes to Molly’s caring face. “But the whole idea makes me feel trapped somehow—as if there’s some unseen force
pushing
me toward him. I thought for sure I was leaving all of that behind when I came out west, and suddenly he appeared on the train. At first it upset me, and then I found myself expecting to find him at every turn—and finally
hoping
, in fact,
that I would. But then when he didn’t show up here for all these months . . . Oh, Molly, how can I
want
to see him, yet draw away from it at the same time? It just doesn’t make sense. . . .”

“Feelin’s often don’t” came Molly’s frank response. She put her hand on Beth’s arm. “So we can’t live by ’em. An’ we can’t be a slave to ’em either. We have ta live accordin’ to what’s right—not what we feel. Feelin’s ain’t bad, ya know, we just have to remember they can change themselves into somethin’ else for no reason we can tell.”

Beth nodded.

“Was it my teasin’ that set ya off?”

A small hesitation and Beth replied, her voice low, “It was more than that. All the things wrapped together. . . . You didn’t tell me he was coming, and you didn’t tell me about the gift. I guess I felt like you were doing what others have done—pairing us up against my will.”

Molly put her arm around Beth and pulled her close. “I don’t want nothin’ for ya, dearie, but what you an’ God want. I guess when yer older, ya find some fun in watching the young get matched up. But I would
never
press ya one way or another. Ya gotta make up yer own mind.”

With all her heart Beth wished that Mother had been able to bring herself to articulate such words. She whispered, “I feel as if my family wouldn’t say the same—that my mother in particular feels she knows what’s best and would be most happy to dictate my future to me—if I were to allow it.”

Molly chuckled again. “Oh, it’s different in a family. It’s harder ta take a step back when the future of a loved one’s at stake. I’m sure it’s yer momma’s love for ya that makes it hard to let ya go. Even make a little mistake or two.” Then she squeezed a little harder. “But yer here, ain’t ya? An’ that’s a long, long way from home and Momma—sayin’ a lot, eh?”

Beth was able to produce a little smile, but she also shrugged. Molly was undeniably right, but somehow it felt like a temporary freedom, measured out cautiously—one that would all too soon be withdrawn.

“How can I pray for you and yer momma, dearie?” Her question was unexpected, but conveyed gentle love and support.

Beth looked away, then into Molly’s face. “For peace between us. For submission, the right kind, I guess. That I wouldn’t feel so stubborn and resistant to whatever she says or wants.”

“If I may,” Molly said carefully, “I’ll pray that ya submit to God first. An’ once that’s done, you an’ yer momma’ll work through th’other parts. Yer a woman now, true, an’ ya gotta make the decisions for yer own life. But first ya gotta obey God’s call—the little things and the big things. You’ll understand better some day, though, that you’ll always be her girl. An’ ya gotta honor her no matter how old ya get. That part’ll be somethin’ ya do in yer mind, not yer feelings—just you an’ God workin’ it out together. We all got mommas—and at some point we gotta figure out what it means to be a grown-up daughter.”

Pressing a kiss against Beth’s hair, Molly rose and left, softly closing the door behind her. Beth sighed, but one of release, not sorrow. It was so easy to talk with Molly. After spending only a few months in her home, they had already grown to love and understand each other.
Maybe it’s Molly I’ll miss most when my
year is over. . . .

At last Mother’s reply to Beth’s pre-Christmas letter arrived. Not surprisingly, Beth found many remonstrations
about not caring for her own health adequately. Mother, in fact, came very close to threatening a visit to see to it that she had sufficiently recovered before continuing with her teaching responsibilities. Reading between the lines, Beth deciphered that Father had been the one to repudiate such an idea. Hot tears stole down Beth’s cheeks as she realized there wasn’t a single reference to her Christmas program. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and prayed that Mother would someday come to see her as more than merely an invalid who needed coddling and someone’s watchful eye.

Snow had continued to fall after Christmas, and the world outside was blanketed with a lovely cotton batting of white. As alluring as a walk seemed, she knew it would be unwise until she was back to full strength. Instead, from the safety of Molly’s parlor window she could occasionally watch some of the children playing in the street, chasing and throwing snowballs or making tunnels through the drifts.

She soon learned that this was pleasant so long as it was only for a short while. Any longer, and she quickly felt the need to reprimand them for some childish infraction.
Hmm,
she thought for a moment,
does that sound a bit like Mother?
And if she did call out to them through the open door, Molly immediately hollered from the kitchen to close it again “afore ya catch yer death.” Beth shook her head at the irony of being reproved as if she were a child at the very moment she was thinking of reproving her own students. But it was not a battle she could win—nor did she actually want to go against this loving woman who was such a guardian of her well-being.
Like Mother wants to be . . . so why does
it feel so different coming from Molly?

Beth had lots to mull over during this week of quiet before school resumed.
Lord, help me to sort out all these thoughts
and
feelings, to become more like You,
she prayed,
more
understanding and forgiving.

She was grateful Frank continued to call every day. He was a pleasant diversion from the quiet that had settled over the house since Christmas. Whenever he arrived, there was laughter, games, and impromptu singing, and sometimes two violins in lovely harmony—everyone’s spirits rising to meet Frank’s.