Where Hope Prevails

by Janette Oke

  “Did you see it?”

  “See it?” Beth choked out. “I was so close I could have slapped it!”

  A search party was hastily assembled to look for the cub and its mother. They tramped into the forest, hollering out instructions to one another as they went. Beth was certain she’d never look at the nearby trees in quite the same way. “Julie,” she almost wailed, “Penelope fought it. But I haven’t seen her since. We must check the bushes.”

  Both faces white, hands clasped tightly, they warily drew aside the branches. There were clumps of fur, but not a sign of their feline friend.

  “What do you think happened, Bethie? Did it eat her?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t think there was time.”

  “Oh, Bethie! This is dreadful!”

  Beth turned wide eyes to Julie. “It could have been you, out in the woods when you’ve been skiing. You mustn’t go anywhere alone anymore, darling. Whatever would you have done if you’d met a bear out there?”

  Julie stared back. “I haven’t the foggiest notion.”

  Beth and Julie hurried to their pantry and back again with a dish of scraps. “Here, kitty! Penelope! Please come home.”

  At last the familiar eyes blinked in the bushes, and their cat trotted forward, looking none the worse for wear except for some patches of missing fur.

  “Oh, you dear kitty, you’re here. You’re alive.” They scooped her up and seated themselves on a low step. Penelope moved between their laps, soaking up their affection as they hand-fed her choice bits of dinner.

  “You’re so brave,” Beth fussed over her. “You chased away a bear!”

  “Well, darling, to be accurate,” Julie corrected, “the gunshot chased it away. I saw Toby Coulter fire a shot into the air. But she’s a brave kitty just the same.” Julie stroked the fur for a moment. “Shouldn’t we take her indoors, Bethie? Can she be a house cat now? Please.”

  “Yes, of course—oh, but we can’t,” Beth lamented, remembering her wedding gown, the rows of fabric flowers and bows, plus the other decorations laid out carefully for the ceremony. “She’d ruin everything. I want to, Julie, but we just can’t let her in.”

  “You’re right, of course. But we’ll have to fix a place for her outside. Nice and soft and warm.”

  “We will,” Beth promised. “Let’s use the woodshed.”

  True to their word, the sisters stitched up a satin pillow stuffed with leftover tulle. They carefully lifted the layers of logs from inside the woodshed until they found the gap that appeared to belong to Penelope. Beth lined the bottom with more of the satin and Julie plumped the pillow to create a soft bed. Then they restacked logs around and over it until they were certain it was sound and provided an adequate entrance. Finally, Beth draped a small tarp that she bought from Toby to protect it all from the elements.

  “That’s good,” Julie pronounced. “She’ll be warm and safe and dry.”

  Beth had a sudden thought. “But how will we get more wood when we need it?”

  After a pause, Julie said, “We’ll go to Molly’s. We’ll carry them over from her pile. After all, they come from there anyway. It’ll just save Teddy the trouble of restocking here.”

  It was silly, Beth knew, but she quickly agreed.

  A knock sounded on the door just as Beth began dishing up bowls of vegetable stew for herself and Julie. Her sister jumped up and pulled the door halfway open, then fell back a step. “What on earth?”

  “Surprise!” Beth heard. “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

  Julie laughed gleefully and reached for their visitor. Beth set the bowls on the table and hurried closer. “Jarrick! Oh, Jarrick, it’s you!”

  He caught Beth up in a strong embrace, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. “I couldn’t wait anymore. I had to see you, and with the break in the weather, I thought I’d make a quick trip.”

  Beth felt the floor under her feet once more, though she would just as soon have stayed in his arms. “This is a wonderful surprise!”

  His eyes twinkled as he took in the rest of the room. “Guess you’ve been doing a little work for the wedding.”

  Julie laughed, rolling her eyes. “An understatement, Jack. Bethie’s had us doing enough for three weddings.”

  Jarrick looked carefully at Beth. “I heard about Marnie’s elopement. How did that go over?”

  Beth sighed. “It was awfully difficult for Frank and Molly at first—especially Molly. But I think they’re getting used to the idea. And Marnie is still attending school, though no one has said anything about next year yet.”

  Julie waved Jarrick to a chair. “Take your coat off, stay awhile. I think we can scrape up another bowl out of the pot.”

  Soon they were eating, and Jarrick complimented them on the simple meal. Beth wished she had taken time to add meat to the stew. She had not considered it necessary for Julie and herself.

  They chatted for some time about the weather, about Jarrick’s most recent assignments, of school news and projects that still needed doing for the wedding. Julie insisted on telling the bear story herself, and Jarrick looked back and forth between them in both consternation and amusement at her dramatic and slightly exaggerated account.

  “But, Beth,” he said, turning to her with brow furrowed, “that could have been so much worse if the mother—”

  “Yes, I know that, Jarrick,” she said, seeing his deep concern. “I am very grateful it was not, and thank the Lord for His protection.” She paused, then added playfully, “He enlisted our dear little Penelope to save me!”

  They laughed again.

  “Oh, and I’ve had a letter from Mother,” Beth told him, happy to move to another subject. “They’ve booked their train tickets and are planning to arrive the weekend before the wedding—on Sunday, just over two weeks from now.”

  “My folks sent a letter too.” His voice sounded strangely forced. “I brought it along with me so you can read it, Beth. I’m sure there’ll be time later.”

  She studied his face, looking for clues to the obvious significance. Julie stirred and said, “Say, you two. I can go over to Molly’s . . . or to the store. I don’t mind.”

  “No, no,” Jarrick said, motioning with his hand for her to stay. Beth knew he would never overstep propriety, alone with her in her home before they were married.

  Beth stood. “Let’s all go. Frank and Molly will want to see you—everyone will. There’s still time for a visit with them this evening if we hurry.”

  “Let’s stop first at the store,” Julie insisted. “I’ll show you what I’ve been doing with some of my free time, Jack.”

  Jarrick’s arrival at Molly’s brought family from all directions. Teddy took the stairs down two at a time, Marnie and Harold hastened from the parlor, and Frank followed Molly out from the kitchen. Their unexpected visitor was ushered to a seat at the kitchen table almost before he had removed his coat. Molly set to work fixing a dessert and coffee.

  Jarrick half stood and reached across the table to shake Harold’s hand. “I hear congratulations are in order, Harry. As you have discovered, Marnie is a fine young lady.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Thornton,” Harold returned. “I feel very blessed to call her my wife now.” The young man’s eyes glanced toward Molly, and he added solemnly, “Maybe we kind of jumped the gun a little, but—”

  “What’s done is done, Harry,” Molly said from the stove. “Ya don’t need to keep repeatin’ that.”

  A pounding on the door turned their faces in unison.

  “Teddy Boy, can ya get it, please?” Molly asked.

  Then a husky voice demanded, “Frank in?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s in the kitchen. I’ll get him.”

  “No need.” Heavy boots approached, and a face unfamiliar to Beth appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I got news, Frank.”

  “What did’a you find, Morgan?”

  The grave man hesitated, casting a glance toward Jarrick.

  �
��This is’a Constable Jack Thornton,” Frank clarified. “He’s a Mountie. You can’a say what’s needed to be said.”

  Morgan grunted acknowledgment. “I did what you asked, Frank. I followed the trail of prints, far as the bend in the river. There was a camp—a fire pit and some trees felled to make a small corral. Weren’t nobody there, at least for the last day or two.”

  “That’sa too bad. I had hoped you would’a find them.”

  The man swiped at his long gray beard. “Found more prints too. Some of ’em round the mill in the shadows, where the snow ain’t melted yet. Gone for sure after tomorrow. You’d best come early if you wanna see ’em for yourself.”

  “I will. And if he’sa willing, I’ll bring my guest, eh?”

  “Suit yourself.” Morgan retreated out the front door, and all was quiet.

  Jarrick broke the silence. “A little trouble here, Frank?”

  Frank traced the grain lines on the wood table with his fingers as he explained to Jarrick about the strange heap of scrap materials in the woods. Beth had almost forgotten about it. “Some men, they thought it was’a the work of our students and pushed hard at the new mayor to find out more. But I never thought it was’a the kids. Was too much weight for them—too much’a to carry, or even to drag.” He paused and frowned. “An’ then we found prints made by horses. We don’ta have no horses ’round here, Jack.”

  “I understand. But who—?”

  “That I don’ta know. But if we can find ’em, we can ask, eh?”

  Jarrick set his empty cup on the table. “Be careful, Frank. There’s no way to know what you’re getting into.”

  Frank rubbed at the stump of his right hand with the left. “You wanna know what I think?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’sa no reason for it, Jack. It don’ta make sense.” He pursed his lips. “Nothing of any great’a value is taken. An’ there’sa much else that could’a been swiped within easy reach. Nothing broken. I think it’s a trick. A prank.”

  “But why?”

  “A few of the folk here, they don’ta like the new man,” Frank said and shrugged. “They don’ta like that he’s our mayor, that he seems to think he’sa better than everyone else. So how do they make’a him look foolish?” He lifted his hand. “Simple, eh? They give him a problem that’a he can’t fix. It don’ta hurt nobody, but it make’a the teacher look foolish, useless. Maybe they hope’a to send him on his way. Maybe a man who wanted to be mayor instead, he gets his way. That’sa what I think.”

  Beth dropped her gaze to her lap. Is it possible? Could Fred be this crafty? He certainly was associated with the men on horseback—the only horses she could remember seeing in town. She searched Frank’s face. In his guarded way, Frank had as much as accused him. Surely he’s not the only one around to wonder if Fred Green is the instigator.

  The moon shone brightly as Jarrick followed Beth and Julie through the front gate and out onto the main road. Julie hurried ahead while Beth dawdled beside Jarrick, hoping for a few stolen moments alone. They had visited at Frank and Molly’s until almost midnight, and Molly insisted Jarrick sleep on their sofa so as not to waken Philip so late.

  “I’m so glad you drove out,” Beth murmured.

  He captured her hand with his and slowed their progress. “I’ve missed you so much. There are a million things I wanted to say to you, and now I can’t think of any of them.”

  Beth leaned closer. “How long can you stay?”

  “I have to leave tomorrow, early afternoon at the latest.”

  “That isn’t very much time.”

  “I know, but at least it’s something.”

  They passed his car parked in front of Abigail’s. “Oh, say, I could read that letter to you now. I don’t want to forget.”

  Beth looked around. The moon wasn’t quite bright enough to illuminate a printed page.

  “Come sit in the car,” he suggested. “It’ll be warmer, and I have a flashlight. It won’t take long, but I want you to hear it.”

  He opened the passenger door for Beth and closed it quietly, then walked around and climbed in next to her, flashlight in hand. He said soberly, “Do you remember the story I told you about when I was young—the incident with the neighbor’s tractor?”

  “Yes. It was damaged on purpose, but no one knew who was to blame.”

  “And my father ended up paying for it, since I had been accused.”

  Beth could still hear the pain in his voice from the memory. “I remember. You said that sometimes people in town, even in your own family, still bring it up, some joking about it.”

  He nodded. “Well, I just got this in the mail from my mother. She wrote that when that neighbor passed away, his wife found something in his desk and thought I might like to have it. His wife told my mother that she never believed it had been my doing—that it simply didn’t fit the boy she knew. The letter is from my father to the neighbor, Ernest Adler, and was sent along with the payment.”

  Beth accepted the yellowed piece of paper, positioning it in the light of the flashlight.

  Dear Mr. Adler,

  I am submitting payment to you for the damage done to your machinery. I want you to know that it is in no way an indication of my belief that my son is guilty. However, you have stated that your intention is to pursue the matter in court, and in God’s Word we are admonished as Christians that brother should not take brother to the courts of the world. So I am paying the sum you’ve requested, even though I still have faith in my son’s honesty concerning the matter. I trust that the Judge of all will set things to right someday.

  Humbly yours,

  Graeme Thornton

  Beth could feel the tears filling her eyes. “He believed you all along, Jarrick,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m so glad for you.” Resting her head on his shoulder she asked softly, “Will you go back now and try to clear your name? I know how much that mattered to you.”

  “There’s no need.” Jarrick refolded the page. “My father trusted me, even though he never found words to tell me himself. That’s all I need to know. And it’s such a burden lifted from my shoulders. I feel free—washed inside and out, in a way. Both my earthly father and my heavenly Father have pronounced me guiltless. So it doesn’t really matter what others say.”

  “It’s so strange,” she mused. “He could have so easily spoken with you about it at any time. I wonder why he didn’t.”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe he never thought it was important. Maybe he didn’t want to embarrass me, or just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. My father isn’t a man of many words.”

  “But you’ve carried the hurt for so long.”

  “I know. Then again, I could have asked him about it. And I didn’t. Sometimes what goes unsaid is painful. I’m not sure why we don’t share more freely.” He tucked the letter back into his pocket. “Let’s not be foolish like that, Beth. Let’s be open and honest with one another. Always.”

  Beth snuggled against his arm, grateful he had been given the affirmation he had yearned for over the years.

  Early the next morning Beth hurried to Molly’s in order to have as much time with Jarrick as possible. She learned that he had already gone out with Frank to check the snow beside the mill for tracks.

  “Marnie, do you know when they’ll be back?” she asked, disappointed.

  “They didn’t say.”

  Beth sat at the parlor window with a cup of coffee. She waited two long hours before the men appeared on the road, Robert with them. She moved away from the window and let the lace curtain fall back into place, wishing she could avoid having to interact with the man. But she did want to be with Jarrick for as long as he was available. Reluctantly, Beth moved toward the entry.

  Jarrick’s face lit as soon as she appeared. “Good morning.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  One by one he pulled the boots from his feet, exposing thick gray wool socks. “No, they were gone, but I’ve no doubt that Frank’s
friend saw what he claims. And he took us to the camp at the river’s bend too. If it were an official investigation I’d record his statement, but no one seems interested in taking a strong stand in this case.”

  Robert had draped his jacket over his arm, carrying his boots in the other hand, and prepared to retreat to his bedroom. “I don’t expect to hear about this matter again once the council is apprised of recent events. And for that I am grateful, Constable. Mr. Russo.” He tipped his hat toward the two men.

  “Frank did most of the work on this. Frank and Morgan,” Jarrick said. “But I’m glad to know this nonsense will soon be behind you. We still don’t know exactly who and why, but it seems likely the motive was to create trouble for you, Robert.”

  “I’m in your debt, at any rate.” Robert began to climb the stairs and then turned back. “Oh yes, and addressing a second matter, if I may. I have received a . . . well, a rather clear indication from my fiancée that we shall not be requiring a home as early as I had first anticipated. The house we are building here should be completed in an adequate time frame. Therefore, I shall recommend that the house we intended to rent from the company be allocated instead to Mr. and Mrs. Harold Edwards, if that seems suitable.”

  Beth raised a hand to her mouth. The McDermotts are moving out in less than a week! Molly hurried in from the kitchen, face alight, and Frank was smiling broadly. “It’sa very kind of you, Mr. Harris Hughes. Very kind.”

  “Not at all. I’d be living there myself in wedded bliss if I could just get my Ivy to settle down with me. But that’s Ivy—she makes up her own mind.” He turned rather abruptly to continue on up the stairs.

  CHAPTER

  25

  WAVING GOOD-BYE to Jarrick after so little time with him was almost more painful than not having seen him at all. Beth’s feet refused to move from the porch, her eyes fixed on the spot where Jarrick’s car had disappeared.

  Bring him back safely, Father. She turned back toward the house with the firm resolve to help Harold and Marnie move into a home of their own. What will they need? She mentally sorted, thinking of several items she never used and could easily do without—a second cast-iron skillet, a padded footstool, a spare oil lamp, a set of sheets, and some dishes. She would gather them up for the newlyweds.