The Long Road Home

by Lori Wick

  The note had a postscript: “And if you don’t come home with something, Abby, we’ll head right back to town.”

  Abby couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed this, but Grandma Em had written the list with just a few words on each line. At a glance, the last item looked like a continuation of supplies.

  Abby looked surreptitiously down at her dress. It wasn’t at all becoming. It was an awful shade of brown and made her think of swamp mud. One of the women in the church at Bruce Mines had given it to her, and Abby had altered it herself. She knew the dress had bothered Ian because he didn’t have the money to buy her something better, but she had so little to wear that she had been thankful for it even though it was such a ghastly color.

  Ian wouldn’t have wanted her to mourn him. He would have been thrilled for her to have a new dress. With this thought in mind, she walked over to the fabric counter. Abby stood for a moment looking up at the beautiful colors, when a young girl moved to wait on her. Having an eye for color, the girl reached almost immediately for a soft, light-gray percale. Abby fingered the fabric with something akin to awe.

  “I thought it would make a pretty dress, one that would go with your eyes.” The girl spoke almost shyly.

  “How did you know I wanted dress material?” Abby asked in surprise. She was further bemused when the girl blushed furiously.

  “I saw your list when you set it on the counter.” The girl didn’t raise her eyes until she heard a soft laugh. Abby then noticed a woman whose resemblance marked her as the girl’s mother moving toward them.

  She spoke good-naturedly. “I promise you Tina wasn’t being nosey. It’s a little trick I taught her to help customers. If we know what people want, we can serve them better.”

  “Grandma Em’s like that,” the girl spoke now, referring back to the list. “If she’s decided you’re to have a new dress, then you’ll have a new dress.”

  Abby smiled at her confidence, and the girl moved for the box of patterns.

  Leaving the store some 20 minutes later for Dr. Cameron’s house, Abby felt like she had been run over by a train. A new dress—it had been a long time. If only Ian could see it.

  9

  Walking back to Grandma Em’s, Abby tried to repeat the verses she had heard that morning and prayed for strength. She had not meant to stay long visiting her aunt but had ended up having lunch with Maggie and the Camerons.

  Seeing Mark and Susanne Cameron, obviously very happy and in love with each other and their children, sent an ache through her that would just not go away.

  The Cameron children were darling, and Abby had fallen quickly under the spell of four-month-old Ellen. Abby would have taken her in a minute.

  The slightest look of uncertainty flickered across Grandma Em’s eyes when Abby arrived, causing Abby to remember the dress material. Abby instantly opened the parcel.

  “The young girl at the store helped me choose. Do you think it will be okay?”

  Grandma Em smoothed the fabric and then held it beneath Abby’s chin. The effect was stunning. “It will be lovely on you,” she stated simply. To have expressed how truly gorgeous the dress would look would have been lost right now on this young widow.

  “Thank you for the dress. I’ll admit to you, I haven’t had a new one in a long time, and I really appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  “You are more than welcome, Abby. I assure you it was my pleasure. You had enough money?”

  “Good” was all she said at Abby’s nod. “Did you have lunch? I assume you ate with Maggie and the family.”

  “Yes, I hope I didn’t hold you up.”

  “Not in the least. Now I’m in the mood to sew! If you’re up to it, I think we should make that dress.”

  Abby stared at her in surprise, but Grandma Em was carrying things into the kitchen. Knowing herself to be only a fair seamstress, Abby was glad to have the help. What Abby didn’t know was that Grandma Em had a funny feeling that Abby was not going to be in Baxter very long and wanted the dress done before God moved this young woman out of her care.

  The two women worked well through the afternoon, and the dress was shaping up nicely by supper. Maggie had planned to join them, but when she was over half an hour late, they ate without her.

  “She and Mark must be busy today,” Grandma Em commented.

  “I think you’re right. They were involved with a patient when I got there today, and Dr. Cameron didn’t linger over lunch.”

  “It seems like every woman in town is expecting.”

  “Your family certainly doesn’t lack for little ones.”

  “You’re right about that. Having them all pregnant and then deliver within three months was almost more than some of us could take—and all girls to boot. The last year has been anything but boring.”

  “I can’t remember the other babies’ names,” Abby said a bit apologetically.

  “Well, it isn’t any wonder. You met everyone who’s home on the same day. Luke is oldest and married to Christine. They have Josh and now baby Kathrine. They named her after Luke’s mother.

  “Mark is a few minutes younger than Luke, and you know all of them.” Abby answered in the affirmative, and Grandma Em went on.

  “Silas is after the twins, and his wife is Amy. They’ve been married less than a year and right now are over visiting Amy’s father in Neillsville.

  “Next is Julia and her husband, Mac. They have Calvin and Charlie, and their new little one is Robyn. The youngest in the family is Paul.”

  Abby, usually so sensitive to expressions and moods, missed the quietness in Grandma Em’s voice as she finished with Paul’s name.

  “Paul’s not married?”

  “He’s a widower.”

  There was no missing the grief this time, and Abby was sorry she had asked.

  They washed up the dishes and were moving into the living room when Maggie arrived. She and the doctor had in fact been delivering a baby, and she said she was too tired to be hungry.

  The evening was not a long one. Soon after Maggie left, Abby made her way to her room. As always, she lay thinking of Ian, missing him and hoping tomorrow would bring some relief.

  10

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror in Grandma Em’s bedroom, Abby stared at her reflection. The dress was finished and fit Abby to perfection. Stylish yet simple, the day dress was very flattering. The bodice had side pleats and a row of white buttons down the middle. Grandma Em had produced a beautiful hand-laced collar from a chest in her room, and Abby’s hand went up to finger the delicate lace at the high neck. The sleeves were three-quarter length and puffed at the shoulder. The gray fabric with the white touches on the neck and bodice was gorgeous. Grandma Em watched Abby’s face and could see she was both pleased and chagrined.

  “It is really lovely. I just somehow hoped I would look thinner.”

  It suddenly all became very clear to Grandma Em—Abby’s always refusing dessert and rarely taking second helpings. She was not fat, but then neither was she a broom handle. Her waist was small, but her hips and bust were quite full. Grandma Em was sure that her roundness, along with her marked lack of height, had probably been a trial to her most of her life.

  “I agree with you. It is lovely, and your figure is just fine.”

  Abby was not going to argue with this woman who had probably never had an ounce of spare flesh in her life. The dress was pretty, and most of the time Abby accepted the way she was shaped. Ian had thought her beautiful. “Don’t think of it, Abby,” she told herself as she turned away to thank Grandma Em.

  “I can see you don’t believe me,” Grandma Em spoke before she could. “But you really do look wonderful—face, figure, and all.”

  Abby couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

  Grandma Em laughed at this, and then both women heard the front door open. “Gram?”

  Grandma Em turned and hurried down the stairs with Abby on her heels. She was sure that was Silas’ voice
, but she didn’t think he and Amy were due back yet.

  Silas was indeed at the bottom of the stairs and gave her a long hug once she reached him. Without speaking, Silas broke the hug and led his grandmother to the sofa. Amy was sitting in the chair, and the serious look on her face gave Grandma Em the first signal of alarm.

  “Silas, what’s happened?”

  “It’s Paul,” he told her directly. “We think he’s been in an accident. Both legs broken and possibly his arm.”

  Silas felt her hand tremble in his, but her voice was strong. “Tell me everything. And Abby,” she spoke to the young woman lingering uncertainly on the stairs, “come in and sit down. This is Abby, Maggie’s niece.”

  Normally Abby would have balked at intruding on such a personal matter, but she felt no rejection from Silas or Amy, only concern for Paul.

  “While we were at the farm, Amy’s dad received a letter. It was from a man he worked with years ago, before he bought the farm.”

  Grandma Em watched as Silas pulled a folded letter from his pocket. “He said we could bring it with us. The man is one of the mill owners in Hayward. Near the end of the letter he says, ‘I’d heard your daughter married a Cameron. We have a Cameron laid up here—both legs broke, possibly his arm or wrist. There is no one here to care for him, and he’s in a bad way. There have been so many of these boys over the years, I’m not sure why I even mentioned it. It’s just that I was at the camp, and he was in the bunkhouse alone and in a lot of pain. On the chance he’s one of yours, I was sure you’d want to know.’ ”

  Silas was sick at having to tell his grandmother in this way. He glanced at his wife and could see she knew what he was feeling.

  “The letter you received—he said he was in Hayward?”

  “Yes.”

  Grandma Em looked grief-stricken, and across the room Abby felt helpless.

  “I could leave in the morning,” Silas said. “I’ll go and see if it’s him and bring him home.”

  “Does the letter say anything about how long he’s been hurt?” The enormity of what had happened to her grandson was quickly closing in on her, and Grandma Em could barely speak. She was beginning to feel ill as she pictured Paul hurt, helpless, and alone.

  Instantly Abby was at her side easing her back on the sofa and placing a small pillow beneath her head. Grandma Em felt her legs being lifted.

  “I need a glass of water and a blanket, please.”

  Grandma Em looked up to see that it was Abby speaking, but she had never heard that tone of voice from her before. A strong arm supported her. “It’s just water. Sip it. That’s good. Now close your eyes. Try to take slow, even breaths.”

  “I can’t stand it, knowing he’s hurt….”

  “I know,” Abby’s voice was soothing. “It’s worse when he’s so far away and you can’t take care of him.”

  “Abby,” Grandma Em grasped the younger woman’s hand as she made a snap decision, her voice stronger now, her eyes pleading with Abby’s. “Abby, will you go? Will you go up and take care of Paul? I know he won’t welcome the family; he left here so bitter. I can’t stand knowing he’s up there by himself.”

  Abby was stunned. Did this woman know what she was asking? There was no telling how Paul was doing now or if it really was Paul. The nurse in her thought of all the possibilities—the infections, gangrene, pneumonia. The list was a long one. He could be dead before she arrived—or even now.

  She knew she had to be honest. “Mrs. Cameron, I don’t think you realize the seriousness of this.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, and you’re wrong. I do realize the seriousness. I was married to a doctor for over 45 years.” Abby stared at Grandma Em, seeing how little she knew about her. “The man in the letter is Paul and he’s not dead.” Her voice was growing stronger. She wanted to sit up, and Abby helped her.

  “I’m certain that he’s not dead, Abby. Yesterday when you were in town, I prayed and prayed that you would bring that dress material. I felt God was telling me you would not be here for very long, and I wanted you to have the dress before you left. I’ll admit I didn’t think it would be this soon, but I’ve prayed for Paul every day of his life, and right now he has emotional hurts—deep emotional hurts. Those he’ll have to deal with on his own, but you’re qualified to take care of him physically. I think you’re an answer to prayer for Paul’s needs, and I’m asking you to go.”

  Abby would have loved to walk out of the living room and pretend she hadn’t heard any of this. “Will you give me some time to pray?” Abby asked, trying to right a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning.

  Her eyes tearing, Grandma Em reached for and hugged Abby. The young widow returned the hug and then made her way upstairs, knowing as she did she would soon be leaving for Hayward.

  11

  By supper time of the same day, the entire family had been informed of the situation. Each person made their way to Abigail at one time or another and thanked her—Luke and Julia with tears in their eyes.

  The women convened the following morning and two more dresses, undergarments, and a nightgown were quickly sewn for Abby. Christine brought a few articles of clothing Paul had left at the house. Fabric and patterns were added so Abby could sew for Paul if necessary. Mark tried to guess what medical things Abby would need, and they were added to the pile of things to go in the trunk that would accompany Abby to the north woods.

  “You’re sure about this, Abby?” her aunt asked her when they had a private moment together.

  “I won’t tell you I’m not scared, but I’m sure God wants me to go. I had hoped to find work and stay close to you for a while.”

  “I would have loved it, but like you said, God is sending you, so I’m sure He’ll give us time together at a later date. Paul’s a good man, but as broken as his body must be, his heart is hurting far more. You go and see to his needs, and we’ll write like we always have. You know I’ll be praying.”

  The entire family pitched in and tried to second-guess any surprises for Abby. Less than 48 hours after Silas and Amy brought the letter from Neillsville, Abby was at the train station.

  Mac was busy with his fields, but he felt very strongly about taking Abby to the train station and insisted on being the one to pick her and Grandma Em up and see them there.

  The three sat at the station with Abby’s trunk nearby and Mac began to question her as a father would upon sending his daughter away.

  “You have plenty of money?”

  “I’m sure I do,” she answered, thinking of the money Luke had given her. She had never had so much in her life.

  “Is there anything else you can think of?”

  “No, everyone has given more than enough.”

  “I want to tell you something, Abby. The last time I saw Paul, he was so angry and bitter I hardly recognized him, but that’s not the Paul I’ve always known. It was Paul, when he was just a boy, who led me to my understanding of Jesus Christ and all He did for me.

  “So you see, he holds a special place in my heart. We’ll be praying you find a place to live and that you have enough money. I feel sure that God will put Paul back on his feet. When he does, will you please encourage him to come home, even for just a visit? We so want to see Paul, and if you can get him on his feet and send him or bring him this way, well, I can’t begin to tell you what it would mean.”

  Mac looked at the small woman on the bench beside him. Her strength and determination reminded him of his Julia. She was the type of girl he hoped his boys would grow up and marry. He had to say one more thing. “In the excitement over Paul, you may be thinking we’ve forgotten you. We haven’t.” Abby could see Grandma Em’s head moving in agreement as she listened to Mac.

  “We all know how fresh your hurt is. You can go, knowing that back in Baxter, the MacDonalds and the Camerons are praying for you every day.”

  They sat the rest of the wait in silence. Soon the ground was rumbling with the movement of the incoming train.
>
  Memories of arriving less than a month ago assailed Abby, and she laughed a little. Both Mac and Grandma Em stared at her. She knew she had to explain.

  “When you came toward me the day I first arrived, I was terrified of you.”

  “I know,” Mac said with a grin.

  Abby smiled back. “I thought you must eat small redheads for breakfast.”

  “No, only at afternoon tea.”

  The light banter helped ease the minds of Grandma Em and Abby. All of Grandma Em’s grandchildren had come to her and offered to go to Paul, either with Abby or alone. But in talking together, they agreed that a nonmember of the family would be better at this time.

  Abby was not a woman easily intimidated, so going alone did not frighten her. Her greatest worry was having to come back and tell this special family that their loved one was dead. The smell of death was too fresh in her nostrils, and she wasn’t sure if she was more afraid for the family or for herself.

  12

  Hayward, Wisconsin

  The days of trusting God were over. Paul Cameron believed he would plot his own course now, because he could certainly do a better job than God had done recently. Paul knew the thought to be irreverent, blasphemous even, but the anger and bitterness that grew with every mile he moved away from Baxter overrode him. He gave into that sin of angry bitterness without a fight—not even a whimper.

  Now, weeks after leaving his grandmother’s home, Paul walked alone into the woods at the start of a new day. It didn’t matter that the sun was breaking clear and bright over the land; miles and miles of gigantic pine trees cast darkness over everything.

  As Paul walked, he noted absently his arms and legs no longer screamed in agony from a day of cutting logs. Not that he minded the pain in his body—it helped dull the pain in his heart.

  The other ninety-odd men heading into the “pineries,” a nickname for the massive stretches of pine trees in the Wisconsin north woods, steered clear of Paul. He had worn an expression in the cook tent at breakfast that told them he was not in a mood for jokes.