Where Hope Prevails

by Janette Oke

  Molly placed a letter on the night table. “And here’s yer mail. Ya might like to read this from yer mother.”

  Beth swallowed a little more soup. “From Mother? Will you read it to me, please?” Just as Beth had hoped, it contained the announcement that Beth and Julie were aunties once more. Margret had given birth to a second son, Josiah Matthew Bryce. Beth breathed a prayer of gratitude for her new baby nephew. Once Molly had departed, Beth pulled out the letter to read again, savoring every word.

  Julie opted to sleep on the couch so Beth could have the bed to herself, but Beth still had trouble resting. Her mind seemed to be working to solve difficulties even as her body needed sleep. She woke several times, thinking of her troubles with Robert, of having to move east, of Marnie and Harold who were so young, of her students without a teacher . . .

  Monday afternoon Beth woke with a jolt from a bad dream. She had been standing on a mountain cliff, shivering in her nightgown. Far below, her beloved students were being chased by a bear. And then the animal had transformed into a man whose face she could not see. Now awake, she wiped the edge of the sheet across her forehead and under her hairline, trying to dab away the cold sweat. “Julie, are you there?” she croaked out.

  Her sister appeared in the doorway. “Where else would I be?”

  “Would you do me a favor? Even if it might be a great deal to ask?”

  The dark eyes squinted at her. “What now?”

  “Oh, darling, I’m sorry for being such a problem. Please, come sit on the bed.” She moved aside to make room.

  Julie approached reluctantly and stood nearby, but she did not sit down.

  “I was thinking, if I kept things very simple—maybe even just doing half a day’s work—could you, would you be willing to teach my class?”

  Julie made a face, laughed, swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and laughed again. “You must be desperate if you would trust me to do that.”

  Beth met her sister’s gaze, refusing to allow any expression of concern on her face. “Of course I would.”

  “What do you have in mind?” She eased down onto the bed.

  “I’d give you the new assignments to distribute, and you could collect the homework that should be done. I’ll help you, and we can grade them here. I’m feeling better than I was.” Beth blew out a long, wheezing sigh. “You will have to do some actual teaching, but it won’t be difficult. You’ll have to demonstrate on the chalkboard how to do the new arithmetic problems for each grade. And, Julie, you’ll have to go step by step, slowly, so they can keep up with you.”

  Julie shrugged. “Well, I suppose that’s better than sitting around here for another day. Will you be all right on your own?”

  Beth propped herself up higher on the pillow, encouraged. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Please go to Molly’s and ask her to get the word out. The children should come in the morning, and they’ll only have to stay until lunch. I’ll write out everything you need to cover. You’ll need to be patient with them. Very patient.”

  Another laugh. “And you’re worried that I’m not? I can’t imagine.”

  Julie disappeared for much longer than Beth had expected. It seemed forever as she lay in the bed staring up at the same slanting ceiling, the same lines in the wallpaper. At last she pushed her feet out into the frigid air and pulled on long wool socks. Adding two sweaters over her nightgown, she forced unsteady feet to the kitchen. Her head was swimming, but it felt good to be walking around.

  Dishes in the sink, articles of clothing draped here and there, and bedding on the sofa indicated Julie’s unfettered ways. Several white tulle bows Beth had asked Julie to work on were on the table along with a half-empty coffee cup. Beth felt her way across the room to push the kettle to the center of the stove. Poor Julie. She must be miserable here, stuck inside playing nurse. Soon the kettle began to whistle.

  She poured her water for tea, filled the basin with the rest of the water to do the dishes, then heard footsteps running up the stairs.

  Julie burst through the door. “Oh good, you’re awake. Well, you’re not going to believe it!”

  “What on earth—?”

  “Bethie, you’re just not going to believe what I heard.”

  “What is it? Is it bad?”

  Julie stuttered out, “No . . . but . . . well, it is surprising, to say the least. Shocking even. I don’t know if you’ll think it’s bad. But probably.”

  Beth stared impatiently.

  “It’s Marnie. She’s engaged—to Harry!”

  Beth reached a hand to the counter to steady herself.

  “I went to Molly’s like you asked.” Julie was already leading Beth to the sofa as she explained the situation further, pushing aside the pillow and pulling the covers over Beth’s legs. “She wasn’t there, but I talked to Frank, and he said Sunday was Marnie’s birthday. She’s fifteen now—”

  “Oh dear, and I missed it,” Beth moaned. She pictured the wrapped gift waiting in her cupboard.

  “Just listen, Beth! Harry came over for cake late in the evening, after Molly stopped by here, and he had a small box with him. It turned out to be an engagement ring! He made it for Marnie in the blacksmith shop at the mine, using the silver from four dimes. Can you believe it?”

  Beth could not. The idea seemed out of her grasp, especially with her foggy mind. “Where is Marnie now?”

  “Still in school. They’ll be dismissed soon.”

  “And Molly?”

  “I think she went to speak with some of the other ladies—to get advice, I suppose.”

  Beth felt her mouth go dry. Oh, Marnie! Then, Oh, Molly . . .

  After only an hour had passed, Beth was unable to bear her questions any longer. She sent Julie back to Molly for more information before Marnie got home from school. It was more than frustrating for Beth to feel this isolated with so much happening.

  When Julie returned, Beth was dozing on the sofa. “Bethie? Bethie, wake up.”

  Beth stirred, twisting her head in one direction, then the other to loosen a painful neck muscle. She pushed disheveled hair away from her face and squinted up at Julie. “What did you find out?”

  “Frank already went and spoke with Harry’s uncle. Apparently his relatives aren’t taking issue with the engagement, though of course they want them to wait to marry. And it seems that Molly and Frank tend to agree. I’m rather baffled. Can you just imagine what our mother would have said? But, as I said, that seems to be the consensus.”

  Beth closed her eyes and clenched her jaw tightly. What are they thinking? “She’s so young,” she almost wailed. “How can they allow this when she’s so young?”

  “I don’t know. But they all seemed to be saying the same thing. She’s ready. She knows the sorts of things that a wife needs to know. It all sounded very old-fashioned to me, but what do I know about marriage or about life here? Maybe she actually is ready after all.”

  Tears were gathering in Beth’s eyes. She didn’t want to speak her deepest fears aloud, but in her weakened condition they were more than she could hold to herself. “Julie, may I tell you something—something I haven’t told anyone?”

  “Of course, darling, what is it?” Julie dropped down onto the jumble of covers on the sofa.

  Beth’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t even know if I’m ready . . . to be a wife.” She buried her face in her hands and felt a comforting arm slide around her shoulder.

  “What do you mean, Bethie? Why?”

  The tears were now slipping through Beth’s fingers. “She’s better prepared than me,” she sobbed. Then she dropped her hands and looked at Julie. “Do you realize that? She can do everything—she can cook, and sew, and clean. I’ve seen her. There’s nothing Molly hasn’t taught her already.”

  “But you can too.”

  “Oh no.” Beth shook her head. “You know that isn’t true. You’ve lived here long enough to know I can hardly cook anything at all. My goodness, I can hardly even keep the stove lit. If
I tried to bake bread, how on earth would I hold the fire at the right temperature? If it wasn’t for Molly . . .”

  Julie handed her a clean handkerchief.

  “But it’s even worse than that,” Beth went on, her voice shaking. “I haven’t had much time to learn, but to be painfully honest, I haven’t wanted to work at it very hard either. No, the truth is that Marnie, even at fifteen, will make a much better wife than me!”

  The sisters sat in silence for several long minutes as Beth worked to get her emotions under control. At last Julie spoke, uncharacteristically weighing each word. “Aren’t you coming back to Toronto anyway? So Jack can work for Father?” Now hurrying, she said, “I’m sure I’m not supposed to know about that, but I overheard Mother and Father talking after dinner one night. I’m sorry if it upsets you that I brought it up,” she said quickly when Beth started crying again. “But I just assumed you wouldn’t be cooking much longer. That you’d have a housekeeper in the city, and it wouldn’t matter.”

  It was impossible for Beth to form an answer. Her lips began to move, but no words followed. Instead she wiped at her eyes with the handkerchief, feeling pathetic and childish. So Julie continued, “Would you really want to live here, Bethie? Here where everything is so primitive and, well, so much harder? Because I need to say it, I just don’t know why you would.”

  Wiping her nose once more, Beth managed to respond, “It’s not the place that I want. It’s the people. It’s what I feel I can offer the children, and their parents too. And . . .” Her words failed, her throat tightening painfully. She labored to finish. “And I want Jarrick to do what he has felt called to do. To be on the Force—to be a Mountie.”

  Julie sighed and patted her back. “I had no idea you were struggling with this. I’m so sorry, Bethie. So what did he say when you told him?”

  Beth stared at her sister pitifully. “I haven’t.”

  “What?” Julie stared back with wide eyes.

  “I haven’t told Jarrick.”

  “Whyever not?”

  Beth twisted the handkerchief as her words tumbled out. “I don’t want to be the one who chooses this. It’s such a big decision, Julie. I want to be an obedient wife, allow him to be the leader. I keep thinking, what if my views of this are the sole reason that we begin life together . . . in the wrong place? I know he’s praying about it all too. Surely God will move him to choose wisely.” She tried a smile, but then said, “What if . . . what if I’m just being selfish about it, after all?” Again, mental images of her mother’s control and Jarrick’s description of his own assertive mother filled Beth’s mind. She would not voice such thoughts to Julie.

  The arm around Beth’s shoulder tightened. “I think you could be honest with him. Not demanding—simply honest.”

  Beth shook her head, tears beginning again. “I’m afraid I can’t. Because Jarrick loves me so much, I think he’d feel obliged to do whatever I wanted. And then if things go wrong, I’ll know I’m the one to blame.”

  “Well, that’s not so bad, Bethie, to be loved so much.” Julie lifted Beth’s chin and smiled into her face. “What a good problem to have.”

  Beth’s face tightened. “Oh, Julie, I know that, but it’s also such a terrible weight to carry—to know I could alter his whole life, everything he planned and hoped for. How could I forgive myself if I took him away from where he was supposed to be? How could I feel my own love was true to him, for his own sake?”

  “But then aren’t you rather convinced he’s really meant to be out here as a Mountie?”

  “I just don’t know.” Beth dropped her head into her sister’s lap. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, pent-up emotion bursting out. “How can I ever be sure?” she wailed.

  Julie’s hand brushed Beth’s tangled hair back from her face, whispering comforting words. With gentle reasoning, Julie finally said, “But you can’t ever really know, Beth, can you, if he’s supposed to be here or if God wants you to come home so that he can work for Father. So if you do talk with him, you’re as likely to be urging him to make the right decision as the wrong one. And if you don’t speak up, maybe your silence on the matter will push him toward a wrong choice.” Julie went quiet, continuing to stroke Beth’s hair in sympathy.

  At last Beth whispered, “But as soon as I give my opinion, I can’t take it back. So I’ve been waiting and praying.” She coughed again and wiped her sore nose with Julie’s handkerchief. “And I’m afraid I don’t trust my own feelings as much as I used to. I realize more clearly all the time that I’m far more self-centered than I once imagined. This thing with Robert, I can’t even express it to you, Julie. And even over our summer trip, I’m afraid I was rather prone to mistake my own emotional responses for decency and honesty. I don’t know how to tell the difference sometimes.”

  Beth was mastering her composure once more. She pushed herself up on the sofa and gave a final wipe at the tears and her nose. The emotions had compounded her congestion. She chose to change the subject. “Well, what about tomorrow? Did you tell Molly about our plan for you to teach?”

  Julie looked away, then back at Beth. “Well, not exactly,” she answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, darling, don’t be angry. Robert—Mr. Harris Hughes—has already made arrangements.”

  “What . . . what do you mean?”

  “He’s going to teach in both classrooms with that door between open. He approached me in the street on my way over, actually. He was asking for your lesson plans.”

  “Didn’t you tell him that you were going to teach as my substitute?”

  “I did, but he said if I didn’t have a college degree I would not be allowed.”

  “Allowed? Based upon what?”

  Julie cleared her throat. “Based on the meeting he had last night with the town council, I suppose.”

  “They already met?”

  “They did. And it was decided how to handle your absence. He wants me to deliver your lesson plans to him yet tonight.”

  Beth felt her heart squeezed by a tangle of emotions, none of which seemed worthy after her recent prayer.

  Two more days were lost to Beth’s recovery. She knew Thursday morning that she should not return to school so quickly yet felt compelled. Her fever was gone, and so she told herself that the other symptoms were inconsequential. Tucking several handkerchiefs and the little bottle of aspirin in with her materials and wrapping herself up in coat and scarf, she made her way across the street in the darkness.

  As soon as she dismissed her class for lunch she sought out Marnie. “Could I have a word with you?”

  “Yes, Miss Thatcher. What is it?”

  Beth drew her to one corner and lowered her voice. “I’m hoping I could talk to Harold today. Do you think that would be possible? After his work, perhaps?”

  Marnie’s eyes darted across Beth’s face nervously. “He’s coming here for lunch. Do ya want to talk to him when he gets here?”

  “Oh, yes, that would be fine. Please tell him that I’ll be at my desk.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Harold arrived shortly after Beth had settled herself. “You wanted to see me, Miss Thatcher?”

  “Yes, please. Come in.”

  He took a seat on the top of the nearest desk, apparently not the least bit puzzled by the request for a conference. He’s probably growing familiar with these same questions, Beth mused.

  “Harold,” she began, “I heard that you and Marnie have become engaged.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I know your uncle and Marnie’s folks have spoken to you already. But I simply want to remind you of one thing, if you’d allow me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Beth lifted a hand to her forehead against the remaining pressure from her illness. “Do you recall what you told me a while ago on our walk? That you wanted Marnie to finish school.”

  “Oh yes, ma’am, I surely do.”

  “And you’re still commi
tted to that goal?”

  “Absolutely, Miss Thatcher. Why, I wouldn’t wanna let her quit before she’s done. That’s very important to me, ma’am, to Marnie and me both.”

  Beth smiled and breathed a sigh. “I’m so glad to hear that, Harold. She’s so precious to us all. We want the best for her—for the two of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Is that all you wanted to know?”

  “It is.”

  “All right then, Miss Thatcher. You have a good lunch.” He stood and sauntered away, no doubt to find Marnie and report the conversation.

  Beth’s hand covered her heart as she watched him depart. “Lord, please help them,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER

  21

  BETH CROSSED ANOTHER WEEK off the calendar hanging beside the washbasin in her bedroom. She tried to picture little Josiah, her newborn nephew. Is he already smiling? Sleeping well? She shook her head as she remembered being right there when JW was a newborn. This would be a very different experience, even for Mother and Margret. Without both Julie and me, the care will be shared by fewer arms. Beth set the pencil aside, frowning at a new thought. And where does Julie spend her time these days? She’s often gone. Maybe she’s skiing, but so frequently? I hate to question her about it. She’s an adult, after all. And there aren’t many possibilities for activities around here, but still, I’d like to know.

  Beth sighed and looked again at the calendar, comparing the weeks left till the wedding with her lists. She knew it would be difficult to be ready.

  She called through the doorway, “Julie, I think we need to plan a trip into the city soon.”

  “In this weather? Don’t you think it looks like snow again? Don’t get me wrong, darling. I would love to go along. I’ve been wishing for just that for quite some time.”

  “If we want to be included the next time Alberto drives out, we need to make our wishes known now.”