Endless Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  Mimicking the phrases she’d heard all her life made her want to explode. “Well, I’m sick of it because I can’t even show it to my own father.” Flopping back into her seat, she let her shoulders sag with the weight of all she carried.

  Granny reached forward and grabbed both of Madysen’s hands and sandwiched them between her own. She squeezed them tight and, with maternal chastisement, looked into Madysen’s eyes. “Just because God has given you the gift of mercy doesn’t mean that you’ll always have it for everyone all the time. Mercy and forgiveness are two different things. And while, yes, I agree with what everyone thinks—gracious, you were always the one rescuing this animal or the other, or helping those less fortunate—you’re not perfect.” Granny leaned back and released her hands. “But I don’t understand what it is that you’re truly unable to forgive him for. I don’t think you’ve told me everything.”

  Madysen could almost smell the musty scent of the mine. The cool, damp air pressed into her lungs. She closed her eyes against the memory of darkness, of being trapped and thinking no one would ever find her. Her heart picked up its pace, as did her breathing.

  Granny’s brow dipped low. “What is it, child?”

  The story started to spill from her lips. All the anguish and fear of a little lost girl, and then her heroic daddy coming to save her. His promise to always find her. Always be there for her.

  “He broke that promise! He left. He didn’t care enough to be there or to come find me ever again.”

  “Oh, but he did. He’s here, isn’t he?” Granny’s words forced Madysen’s eyes open.

  More than one emotion fought for control. She had longed for her dad to come and find her, even though everyone said he was dead. Her little-girl heart had yearned for her father. But too many years had passed. She’d lost faith in her earthly father. And now that he was back, it hurt even more to know that he’d never come to find her—any of them. Why hadn’t they been enough for him to love? “It’s a little too late, don’t you think?”

  “It’s never too late, my dear. Never. Thankfully, we serve a God of second chances.” The words were hushed, but firm.

  Taking a long, slow breath, Madysen forced herself not to simply hear the words, but to allow them to sink in.

  Granny watched her with a gaze that seemed to bore through to her soul. “I’m not saying that things will change overnight. This is going to take some time. You and your sisters and grandfather will need to sit down and have some serious discussions about it. You need to pray about it. Take the time that you need to heal.” She pointed a bony finger in Madysen’s face. “But don’t waste the chance that God has given you to restore the relationship with your father. You’ll always regret it if you don’t.”

  Her words rang true, even though Madysen wanted to stay angry and hurt. But she shouldn’t. She would regret it. Could she live with that? No. Time did heal wounds. Perhaps she simply needed to give Dad time as well. And spend a lot of time on her knees in prayer for her father rather than allowing the anger to fester. A sense of release filled her. Granny was right. It didn’t have to happen right away. “It’s hard to even think about.”

  “I know. But with the good Lord’s help, we’ll make it through. We will. You may never be close to him again, or even trust him, but you alone are the one to determine if you’ll be at peace with him. I believe that once the shock wears off, you’ll come around to extending him grace. I’ve always admired that about you, Madysen.” She stood up and looked down, love shining from her eyes.

  “I don’t feel like extending him grace.” Why did she feel like a petulant child as she said it?

  “And maybe that’s at the heart of this problem. Holding on to your anger goes against the very heart of your nature. It’s worth considering.” She picked up the tea tray and took it into the other room.

  Madysen’s conscience pricked. Her friend and mentor was correct, of course. But she couldn’t deal with it right now.

  The older woman returned and grinned at her as she took her seat again. “Now let’s turn our minds to happier things. Did I tell you that my grandson has come back to us from the Yukon?”

  Thankful for the change in subject, Madysen stuffed thoughts of her father aside. “No. How lovely.” She forced a smile. “I remember we’ve often prayed for him.”

  “Indeed, we have. I’m hopeful that he’ll stay with us and settle down. Maybe even raise some sheep.”

  “Sheep? Why sheep?”

  “We had a sheep farm long ago, and Daniel loved it. I guess I’m hoping that he will find joy in life again. And if that involves a few stinky sheep, I think I can handle it.” Granny glanced over her shoulder as she got to her feet. “Come help me clean up the kitchen, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Madysen complied, eager to share about her own new venture. “I have sheep. I didn’t get a chance to tell you. It started out as a rescue to keep Judas from selling them for slaughter. I actually stole them.”

  The look of shock and surprise on Granny’s face made Madysen laugh.

  “Well, that wasn’t my intention, but I heard he was going to send them off early in the morning, so Havyn and I snuck into the place where he kept them and herded them home.”

  For the first time, Granny genuinely seemed speechless.

  “I see I’ve surprised you. We didn’t actually steal them, we paid Judas for them, I promise.”

  The older woman blinked several times. “I think I’m more surprised that they followed you. A stranger?”

  “Well, not exactly. At least not at first. It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. But a lot of grain and coaxing, and a couple of sticks, helped us get them home. Then we went to see Judas the next day, and he allowed us to buy them from him. He thought it very amusing that I went to such lengths to save some sheep.” Warmth filled her chest. A good, satisfying feeling. “Turns out, I’m quite good with them. To make things even more adventurous, we discovered they were all ewes that were expecting, so now we have plenty of babies and milk.”

  Understanding lit Granny’s face. She lifted her chin and nodded. “Ah . . . thus the new venture.”

  “Yes! We’re going to make cheese.” Madysen couldn’t contain her excitement. At least something was worth celebrating.

  “That is splendid, my dear. Did you know that we used to make a living with cheese production on our farm? Daniel knows far more about it than I do. He used to help his mother with the recipes. I’ll bet if you ask him, he would share some insight and maybe even a recipe or two.”

  “Really?” Oh, praise be to God! Someone actually knew how to make cheese from sheep’s milk. “That would be incredible. Do you really think he would help?”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will.” Granny’s eyes twinkled.

  “This is an answer to prayer. John and I were just talking about how we had a lot to learn. He knows how to make mozzarella from cow’s milk because he used to help his family. He even taught us how. But we want to expand to make other cheeses.”

  “Then Daniel is your man.” Granny began washing dishes, and Madysen took up a dish towel to dry. “So,” Granny continued, “tell me all about the wedding and the marvelous shows you did at the Roadhouse. I heard that you Powell girls have been quite the hit.”

  Turning the topic to music was the perfect choice. Granny was right, once again. How many times had she told Madysen that it was best to think on the positive things?

  THREE

  Daniel Beaufort lifted a heavy crate and brought it to the front of the new display in the mercantile. “Here you go, and I hope that’s the last one.” He shot a grin to his father. “Because I don’t know if my back can take any more.”

  Dad laughed as he limped around the crates. “You’re young, and you haven’t even broken a sweat yet. I doubt these are anything compared to what you carried up the routes to the Yukon. You haven’t said much about it, but I’ve heard enough stories.”

  He’d thought to spare his family the details of his
years away. Mostly because he didn’t want to share the dark times. But he hadn’t meant to shut his father out. “Oh, don’t remind me. Just a year’s worth of supplies weighed almost a ton. I don’t have fond memories of hauling that over the ice and snow. Back and forth. Back and forth. Makes my back ache all over again.”

  Dad winced. “Makes mine hurt just thinking about it. How many trips did that take?”

  Daniel tilted his head back as he tallied. “To be honest, it must have been a couple hundred trips over that same treacherous trail.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking to take on something so daunting.”

  “Well, I won’t require anything of that magnitude here. In fact, that’s the last of it.” With a wink, Dad stuck his thumb out toward the counter. “Can you handle the register for me while I finish up the paperwork?”

  “Of course.” Daniel wiped his hands on his apron and surveyed the store. He’d been in Nome for six days and already things had settled into a nice routine. Dad and Granny hadn’t pried. Just let him rest and dive into a new life. Being with family again fed his soul after the aching loneliness he’d experienced in the Yukon.

  Running a mercantile wasn’t what he’d dreamed of doing, but then again, did he even know what he wanted to do? When he was a kid, the answer was easy. Stay and farm with the family. But after Mom died and Dad got injured, Dad sold the family farm in Illinois and bought a mercantile in Seattle, and things were never the same.

  Seattle hadn’t been horrible, but it wasn’t home. None of his friends kept in touch after he left, and all Daniel had to look forward to was working in the mercantile every day. Which wasn’t anything to look forward to. At. All.

  He grew more miserable with every month. So when he heard about the Yukon gold rush, he took off for adventure.

  But he learned early on that adventure quickly turned into bone-wearying days, where his body ached from head to toe, and the rewards were few and far between. Not to mention the cold. And the lack of Granny’s amazing food.

  Then Dad and Granny moved up here to Alaska and bought another mercantile. Daniel didn’t know their motives behind the move, but it had brought comfort knowing they were closer—even though he’d been too stubborn to come home.

  Several years passed before he swallowed his pride and accepted that finding an easy fortune wasn’t going to happen.

  What a fool he’d been! But some things had to be learned the hard way. Good thing he was on the other side of it. Not a lesson he wanted to endure ever again.

  At least he had decent work to do and a place to stay until he decided what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

  Of course, being in another gold-rush town wasn’t exactly his first choice, but there seemed to be plenty of people making a decent living here without digging for gold. Look at Judas Reynolds. The man was very successful and respected in the town.

  Now, that was someone he’d like to learn from. The man oozed charisma, and everyone seemed to love him. And he was probably the wealthiest man in town.

  Daniel could see himself in a prestigious position like that. Being respected and well-known.

  The bell jangled over the door, and he turned his attention to the customers.

  A tall, dark-haired gentleman entered with a woman. His wife? Her dark red hair was something to behold. She wore it down––not something he saw on modern women often––and the curls spilled everywhere. Two pearlized combs held it off her face. Why did women always pull their hair back and wind it into a knot? It didn’t make sense to hide it. Of course, he didn’t have long hair, so what did he know?

  The woman laughed at something the man said. Yeah, they must be married. Too bad.

  He pasted on a smile. “Good afternoon, how may I help you today?”

  “You must be Daniel.” The man held out his hand. “Your father told us you were here, we just haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. I’m John Roselli, and this is my sister-in-law, Miss Madysen Powell. She just had tea with your grandmother.”

  Ah, so they weren’t married. Good. Daniel’s grin broadened. “Pleased to meet you both.” He nodded to Miss Powell. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Granny must have said something about the Powells.

  “John!” His dad greeted the guest like old friends. Tucking his inventory paperwork under his arm, he headed over.

  So much for Daniel needing to handle things.

  “I see you’ve met my son.”

  “Indeed. I bet you are thrilled to have his help.” Mr. Roselli seemed to know Dad quite well.

  “Don’t you know it. How are things out at the farm? How’s Chuck?”

  The customer began to answer his father, and Miss Powell pivoted toward Daniel. “As John mentioned, I was just visiting with your grandmother earlier today. She is overjoyed that you are here.” The delight in her face drew him in like a magnet. She tilted her head a bit and looked like she was eagerly awaiting whatever he had to say.

  His mouth went dry. But he couldn’t pull his gaze away from hers. What was wrong with him? Forcing his mouth to work, he returned her smile. “Granny is pretty special. And I think that I’m the one who’s overjoyed. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I missed her cooking.”

  The pretty Miss Powell laughed, and it sounded almost musical. That was it! Dad and Granny had talked about the Powell family and their musical abilities.

  “I can imagine.” She smiled. “I had the privilege of having her cinnamon cake today. It was delicious. As always.” She glanced toward her brother-in-law and then back to him. “How was the Yukon? I believe that’s where Granny said you have been the past few years?”

  He nodded. “Cold. Definitely an adventure, but not one I wanted to continue.”

  “I don’t blame you. Gold rushes are never what they promise to be. Even here in Nome folks come thinking they’re going to find gold nuggets just lying about—free for the picking.”

  Yep. He’d been one of those men . . . and not too long ago.

  Dad led their customer back toward them and gripped his shoulder. “Well, I better get back to work. I have a new peanut butter display to set up. Apparently, this product was all the rage at the World’s Fair down in St. Louis. Although, I don’t know what people will do with it or eat it with.” Dad shrugged and continued to talk to himself as he went back to the display.

  “What can I help you with today, Mr. Roselli?” Daniel looked between Miss Powell and her brother-in-law.

  Dad’s friend placed a hand on the counter. “Please call me John. We need to order a good deal of supplies.”

  “Of course. Let me get the ledger and books. Do you have a list of what you need?”

  Miss Powell reached for the Sears Roebuck catalogue. “We do. Most of it is out of this catalogue right here.” She pulled a list out of her pocket.

  Daniel glanced over it and raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t ordinary equipment. “What kind of farm do you have?”

  “Dairy and poultry.” John’s deep voice expressed his pride.

  “Humph.” Miss Powell patted her brother-in-law’s arm. “I’ll thank you to not forget my sheep.”

  A guilty grin took over John’s face. “I stand corrected, Daniel. Dairy, poultry, and sheep.” He shook his head and laughed. “We’re now making cheese, so we need the necessary kitchen and equipment to expand our process. We’ve used the house kitchen for several batches, but it’s just not big enough. And now that we’re venturing past mozzarella, we’ve decided to build a new kitchen just for the cheese.”

  With a pencil, Daniel started an order form. “That’s quite a project. When I was younger, I used to help my mother make cheese from sheep’s milk. It was quite good if I do say so.” Daniel checked each item on the list and wrote it down.

  “Granny said you would be the expert and might be willing to share a recipe or two.” Miss Powell’s words pulled his gaze upward. For a moment, he lost himself in the depths of her dark brown eyes. They held
expectancy, joy . . . life. Such a difference from what he’d seen the last few years. The light in most people’s eyes faded within a few weeks of being in the Yukon.

  For some it happened sooner.

  “We might need more than recipe help. Since you’re an expert on sheep, we could use your suggestions and insight.” John’s eager voice pulled Daniel’s attention back to the job at hand.

  “Well . . . I wouldn’t say I’m an expert. Just grew up on a sheep farm.” Memories made him chuckle. “I enjoyed helping with the cheese part, but not so much with the sheep.”

  “But they’re so cute!” Miss Powell’s voice rose in pitch. “I’d much prefer working with them than doing the tedious process of working with the cheese.”

  It was fun to watch her become so passionate about her topic. The tiny Miss Powell’s liveliness was a sight to behold. But he’d been staring too much already. Daniel looked back down at the order he’d been writing. “They might be cute, but they stink. And they bite. And they’re not all that smart.” He watched over the end of his pencil for her reaction.

  “I’ll give you that, yes, but their cuteness and sweetness should overrule those qualities.”

  John let out a hearty laugh. “Maddy, you think that because they all adore you and follow you around like you’re their mama. Some of us have to deal with the not-so-nice ends of things.”

  Daniel joined in with John’s laughter. “Exactly. That’s why I enjoyed making the cheese.” He finished writing the order down and handed the paper back to Miss Powell. John had called her Maddy. It suited her. He gave both his customers a smile. “It will probably take six weeks or longer—depending on availability. It might not make it in before the harbor freezes and shipping is curtailed. If you’ve got the extra money, we could send a telegram to St. Michael, and they can cable it to Seattle from there. That would allow them to put it on the next available ship north. Might get here inside of ten days. For sure by the end of the month.”