by Janette Oke
“And you’ll be living here with Jack after the wedding?” Julie moved into the bedroom and back again, lifting the little patchwork curtain over the kitchen window to peer outside, opening and closing doors and drawers.
Beth sighed. “That’s the plan. It’s enough for two, and more importantly, it’s what we can afford.”
“Well, won’t the two of us be cozy while I’m here, sharing a bed like we did when we were little.”
“Julie,” Beth said, shaking her head, “I never shared a bed with you.”
“Yes, I remember you did.” Julie squared her shoulders.
“No, I always shared with Margret. You were on your own in that little trundle beside ours until we moved to the stone house, and then we all got our own rooms.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” Beth nudged Julie’s arm. “You just think you shared with me because you were in my bed so often. You were scared to sleep alone, especially at first. Remember?”
“I doubt it,” Julie maintained stubbornly. “I’ve never been scared of anything. I . . .” Instantly her face fell and she corrected herself. “Well, except . . .” Her brows drew tightly together as the memory of their difficult summer crowded into the room with them.
Beth put her arms around her sister and repeated the verse they had memorized together when they were young, recited often in the weeks that had followed Julie’s abduction. “‘Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the LORD Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.’”
“Amen,” Julie whispered. “He alone is my salvation.” For several moments they stood in silence, drawing reassurance from its truth and from each other.
“And anyway, Julie,” Beth said as she moved toward her sister’s trunk, “you should have seen me when I first got here. I heard noises in the night! I was terrified, I assure you. I hardly slept at all for about a week. You would have found it terribly entertaining and would have enjoyed a good laugh at my expense. And even so, I have to admit that I wanted you here.”
“Noises?”
Beth dropped her voice dramatically. “Scratches, and footsteps, and thumps in the night . . .”
“You heard sounds at night?” Julie was looking around, eyes wide. “Did you ever figure out what they were? Have they stopped?”
“I did find the culprit. It was a varmint.”
“A what?”
“A local pest. Would you like to meet her?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Julie finally laughed, then looked around suspiciously.
Without explaining further, Beth took a small piece of fish from the icebox and moved toward the door. Julie followed, and they descended the stairs. Beth walked several paces closer to the woods. “Penelope,” she sang out. “Come on. Come here, little one. Penelope.”
Two bright eyes appeared on cue under the favorite bush. Beth stooped low, holding out her hand so Penelope could reach the food. The cat sauntered forward, lifting her kitty paws gingerly over the crusted snow, her striped winter fur grown thick and full.
Meow. She froze in place and stared up at Julie, quivering ears alert for any threat.
“This is Penelope the cat,” Beth said with a laugh. “She sort of came with the place.”
“And she lives outdoors?” Julie hunched down next to Beth, trying to coax the creature closer.
“Do you really think for a minute I would let her live in the house? What would Mother say? Here, give her the fish. It’s her favorite.”
“But where does she sleep at night?” Julie held out the scrap.
Beth motioned toward the stairs. “There’s a little woodshed hidden away to store my wood for the stove. Teddy keeps it full. I think she’s found a hiding place somewhere behind it all. I suppose it’s dry there and warm. It can’t be very big.”
But her sister was busy luring Penelope close enough to scratch her head and back while the cat slid up against Julie’s legs.
“She likes you.” Beth felt a tiny bit jealous. She had been working so hard, had been faithfully feeding the cat, and yet was rarely allowed to place a hand on her back.
“Just so long as she doesn’t turn on me and bite.”
Beth chuckled. It was unlikely, but not impossible. “Let’s go back in. I’m freezing.”
As expected, Julie was rather unimpressed with the burgeoning town. Apart from the new church building, she found little to compliment. On Monday morning she accompanied Beth to school, ready to meet the new teacher. Seeing this as an opportunity to possibly view Robert through a fresh set of eyes, Beth told her sister very little about the man prior to the introduction.
“Excuse me, Mr. Harris Hughes?”
He turned from the chalkboard. “Ah, Miss Thatcher, please come in. I trust you had a pleasant holiday.”
“I did. Thank you.” Beth drew her sister forward. “I was hoping to introduce my sister, Miss Julie Thatcher. She’ll be staying with me for a while and helping sometimes in my classroom. Julie, this is Mr. Robert Harris Hughes.”
Robert crossed the room, a half smile on his face, moving the tie he had loosened into proper position. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Thatcher.”
“Oh, please, just call me Julie.” She extended her hand to Robert demurely. He took it lightly with a nod.
Beth felt herself stiffen and looked from the corner of her eye at her sister. Was that a familiar tone in Julie’s voice? Beth quickly said, “My sister is visiting from Toronto and will be leaving with my parents after the wedding.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay in our little town. Which is to say, I hope you enjoy snow and quiet and isolation.”
“Oh, I do enjoy snow,” Julie said, ignoring the man’s gloomy description. “I just learned to ski, and I’m so looking forward to getting out and trying it here. I bought a pair of secondhand skis in Lethbridge and managed to have them loaded on the roof of the car.” She rocked forward slightly, twisting a short dark curl that hung next to her cheek. “Do you ski, Robert?”
He cleared his throat. “I do, Miss Thatcher. But I’m afraid I’ve left my equipment in Calgary, where my fiancée currently resides.”
Beth was relieved by his open response, grateful that Julie now had no reason for further interest. She was, however, dismayed by Julie’s immediate attraction to the new acquaintance.
“Also, Miss Thatcher, if I may be frank, I’ve rather insisted upon being referred to by my full name while in the classroom. If you’d be so kind, I would greatly appreciate your amenability on that count.”
Julie grinned impishly. “Of course. As you wish. What is your name again—Mr. Harris?”
“Harris Hughes, miss.”
Beth led a hasty retreat to her own classroom.
“Oh, Bethie, what a stuffed shirt!”
“Shhh! He’ll hear you.”
“How . . . ?”
Beth motioned toward the door in the center of the shared wall.
“Then why did we . . . ?” Julie pointed out to the entryway and the long way around they had taken.
“I don’t ever use it.” Beth rubbed a hand across the back of her neck and whispered, “That’s all I can say. I didn’t want it in the first place. I’d just as soon have someone nail it shut.”
Julie’s eyes narrowed, her expression rather smug. “So I gather we don’t like him, then? Why didn’t you just tell me so in the first place?” She winked at Beth. “He’s awfully cute, in a studious, professorial sort of way. And he certainly dresses marvelously. And way out here!” She gestured expansively.
Beth squirmed. “It’s not that I don’t like him. It’s just . . . it’s complicated.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Please, Julie, we’ll talk about it later. What little there is to tell. Now, I’ve got to get ready. My students will be here in minutes. Write these arithmetic problems on the board, will you? That would be very helpful. And once class begins you
can sit in the last seat of this row. No one is assigned that desk right now.”
“My, how exciting. I’ve never sat in a classroom like this before. I was secretly jealous of the other girls who didn’t have a tutor come to their home. Do I need to raise my hand if I’d like to speak?”
“Oh, darling, just please don’t speak at all.” Later Beth found a reading session for Julie to lead with the littlest ones and chuckled to herself as her sister, of course, incorporated extra expression into the story.
At lunch Julie requested the key to Beth’s door, assuring her that she would find some appropriate pastime elsewhere and that perhaps she would try out the new skis. Beth breathed a sigh of relief, followed quickly by a prayer that God would keep Julie safe and give her wisdom in her choice of activity on her own.
“Did you happen to see the notification in the window of the store? It gave a date for your little upcoming election.” Julie was stretched out on the sofa, flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine.
Choosing to ignore the condescension, Beth answered, “No, I rarely have reason to go into the store.”
“Well, I guess you should, then. Didn’t you insist that this particular event is rather important to you?”
Beth looked up from a lesson she was outlining. “All right, what did the notice say?”
“Well, among other things, it listed the candidates for mayor.”
“It did?” Now Beth was listening fully. “Whose names?”
Julie smiled, enjoying the upper hand. “Just two. Want to guess?”
“No. Emphatically, no.”
“You’re no fun at all.”
“Who?”
“Fine, then,” Julie relented. “Your silly Mr. Harris Hughes was first, and then a Mr. Fred Green.”
“Fred Green? What on earth? Whoever would have nominated Fred for mayor?” Beth stared in bewilderment.
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“He was a friend of Davie Grant’s, the bootlegger arrested last spring.”
Julie made a face of mock empathy. “You mean, the bootlegger in whose home you now live?”
“Not any longer.” Beth shook her head in frustration. “This is Abigail’s now. And anyway, he’s long gone.”
“But someone in your town is suggesting that his co-conspirator be elected mayor? Well, that’s rich.”
Beth rested her cheek on one hand, considering the significance. Thinking out loud, she murmured, “That would mean if Robert loses the election . . . Fred would be mayor instead. Well, that’s no better. In fact, that’s much worse!”
“And if the choice is between those two, one can only guess who’ll be unanimously elected.”
Beth muttered, “Robert probably nominated Fred, just to be sure of his own win.”
Julie rose from the sofa and dropped onto the chair next to Beth. “Would he do that? Is he that conniving?”
Beth shook her head, this time more vigorously. “No, no, I’ve never seen him do anything of the sort. I can say that much for him. I believe he is exactly what he appears. And he has the audacity to say exactly what he’s thinking too, rightly or wrongly.” She set her pen in its stand and closed the book. “What are we going to do, Julie?”
“We? Well, now, that’s interesting. You’re including me suddenly. And imagine that, I’ve just been looking for something to do—something to fill the hours. I hear that politics can be rather intriguing.”
“No, I don’t mean you should involve yourself. I just want you to help me think of something.”
“Fine, then. Have it your way. Who else lives in this town? Who could be a potential candidate?”
Beth dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. She went through the possibilities again for Julie’s benefit, listing one name after another and quickly dismissing each.
“That’s it? That’s everyone?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
“And you don’t even know many of them, because they’re new to town?”
“Unless the workmen go to church, which about half of them do, I’m certainly not likely to have crossed paths with them, even in a town this small.”
“Hmmm.” The familiar sound of Julie’s mental wheels turning. “We can’t entice even that delightful Philip. He would have been ideal. Say, Bethie, how young can they be? Could it be a student?”
“I doubt it. Besides, Teddy and Addison are the oldest, and they’re only seventeen. I doubt Frank and Molly would allow Teddy to try, and Heidi Coolidge would—”
“What did you say?”
“I said that Heidi—”
“No, silly! You said Frank and Molly.”
“Yes.”
Julie thumped a hand on the table. “But don’t you see it, darling? You haven’t considered the most obvious choice of all!”
“Molly? But she’s—”
“No, Bethie. Frank. Don’t you think he’s perfect?”
Beth felt her mouth drop open, and her eyes grew large as she processed the idea. Why didn’t I think of Frank? He’s surely a Canadian citizen by now. I suppose that’s why I inadvertently left him out. He’s perfect, and now that he’s retired he has the time. She faced her sister. “What have I been thinking? You’re brilliant.”
Julie’s smile was sprightly, and she tipped her head. “I know. Thank you.”
Beth and Julie planned to spring their idea on an unsuspecting Frank following dinner in Molly’s kitchen on Wednesday. Not long after settling in the parlor, Beth turned the conversation toward the election.
“Frank, you must hear talk around town about the election. Do you think Fred Green has a chance?”
“Oh, I don’ta know,” he pondered. “That’a teacher, he said he was’a sorry plenty of times for getting the boys in’a such a fix. But I think’a the mothers wonder if they fully can’a trust him again, eh? On another hand, I cannot see the town’a choosing Fred over Mr. Harris Hughes either.”
“You’re right. Each of those men is problematic.” Julie exhaled slowly. “If only there were someone else.”
Beth winced, suddenly uncomfortable with their ruse. She frowned and declared candidly, “Frank, I think you should run for mayor.”
Molly’s face lifted quickly from her mending. “What? What did you say?”
Frank smiled slowly. “Some of the men, they asked me to let’a my name stand.”
Beth drew a quick breath. “Well? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘I’ma too old now.’” He shrugged. “That’s what I said.” He pushed to his feet to refuel the woodstove.
“But that’s not true,” Beth argued to his back. “Laurier was prime minister until he was almost seventy, and that’s a full-time position. This is mayor, and it would be only part-time. And everyone trusts you, Frank. Both of you.” Beth turned to Molly, her fervent expression betraying her deep concern. “The two of you are almost, well, the founders of this town.”
“Pshaw.”
“It’s true, Molly. You’ve lived here almost from the start. Certainly you’ve both been here much longer than most. And you know everyone, an important thing. Goodness, between the two of you there’s probably not a soul you don’t know well, from the mothers to the miners and also the company men. Don’t you see, he’s perfect.” Her gaze circled the room and stopped at Frank, back in his chair.
Frank shook his head with a chuckle. “What do you think, Mollina?”
“I don’t know,” she said, staring at her needle without moving it. “I s’pose I’m game fer whatever you say, Frank. I’m sure it’s more work than ya been figurin’ on for this time in yer life, but if that’s what ya want, I wouldn’t discourage it.”
Beth and Julie exchanged silent congratulations with one another. It seemed that they had their man.
CHAPTER
19
JULIE’S CONSIDERABLE ENERGIES were now focused on winning the election for Frank. Though Beth felt victory was assured by simply penciling his name under Fred Green’s
on the list of candidates at the store, Julie seemed determined to complicate matters. As she walked Beth home after school the next day, she was full of ideas.
“We’ll have a party. That’s what we’ll do.”
“A party? Where?”
“At the church. And—”
“Oh no. We can’t put the church in the center of the election. That’s exactly what Philip was trying to avoid.”
Julie spun around, gesturing at the school building. “Then we’ll have it here.”
“Sure, with Frank’s opponent on the other side of the door. You can’t be serious.” One glance at her sister and Beth knew Julie’s new election campaign would not easily be diverted.
“Then we can make buttons and give them out. They do it in all the big cities.”
“Oh, darling, we can’t. It would look ridiculous. And Frank would never allow us to promote him in such a . . . such a blatant way. It wouldn’t be proper in this setting.”
Julie waved her arms, her frown the same as the one she wore as a thwarted child. “What will you let me do? You shoot down my ideas as quickly as Mother.”
Beth flinched at the comparison and forced her words to come more slowly. “Julie, anything we do must fit with the community here.” She blew out a breath. “How can I explain it? You see, Julie, small things matter in Coal Valley. We don’t have to create a lot of hoopla. We can be gentle and sincere—you know, dignified.”
“Sounds boring.”
Beth reached for the stair rail, stepping around Penelope, who was purring and slinking around underfoot even more now that Julie had arrived. “It’s not boring, really. Believe it or not, it actually scares me. Any of this. I don’t know how you manage the spotlight so well. I’d rather be neither seen nor heard most of the time.”
Julie pulled Beth to a stop, motioning that they take a seat on the step, their breath a thin white mist in the air. “I know how you see things, Bethie. I don’t understand it, but I realize that’s how you feel. So then the question is, how can we make a difference your way? I suppose we’d . . . we’d . . . I don’t know, write something.”
“Hmmm, write something? What would that be?”
