Tomorrow's Dream

by Janette Oke; Davis Bunn

  “It comes from dividends on Daddy’s stock,” she explained.

  “Your stock,” he noted quietly. “Your father left the shares to you.”

  Kyle nodded and rose to her feet. “I have to be going. It took longer at the bank than I thought, and I need to get to the post office before it closes.” She hesitated, then straightened her shoulders and said determinedly, “I have a letter to write.”

  “Ruthie will be delighted.” Patrick walked over and offered Kyle his hand. “As for myself, I can’t tell you how nice it is to see you smile again.”

  She turned for the door. “We’ll see you on Sunday.”

  The morning was still young, still holding to the hint of spring freshness. May was a time of transition for farmers, spring in the morning and summer by midafternoon. Joseph Miller was seated in his padded chair on the corner of the porch, watching and listening to the birth of a new day. He missed helping with the morning chores, but still he felt a part of the daily activities. His heart pulsed in time to the farm. It was in his veins.

  “Papa?” Sarah came across the porch. “Here’s a letter for you.”

  “Thank you, kinder.”

  The girl handed him a kitchen knife along with the envelope. “Mama says breakfast will be in fifteen minutes.”

  “Good, good. I will be there.” But the return address was already holding his attention. He slit the envelope with the knife and extracted the letter. A slender slip of paper fluttered down to lie upon his shortened leg.

  Slowly, slowly, he reached down beside his leg and picked up the slip of paper. His hand trembled as he held it up close, wanting to be sure of what he was seeing.

  He unfolded the letter. He stopped to take a breath, then read the first page, turned it over, and had to stop again. Joseph Miller wiped his eyes, then started on the second page.

  When he was finished he looked out over the farm for a long moment. Then he called out, “Simon!”

  “I’m with the chickens, Papa.”

  “Leave the eggs for later. Come here with you right now!”

  There was the clatter of a pail, and Simon came running from the chicken house. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” Joseph’s answer was loud enough to bring Ruth and Sarah through the front door.

  His wife inspected his face. “Why do you make such a fuss on this peaceful morning?”

  Joseph kept his gaze on his son. “How much land do you plan for the flowers?”

  Simon exchanged a glance with his mother and sister. “But the money—”

  “How much land?” Joseph quietly demanded.

  “Four acres, Papa.”

  “Flowers are a new crop for us. We do not know how much water they will need. Take those down by the stream.”

  “But, Papa,” Simon and his sister said in unison. Then Simon finished, “Four acres means sixty thousand plants.”

  “Then you best be ordering them, and seeing to some extra hands for the planting,” Joseph replied. He looked at his wife and asked, “Are you to the market this morning?”

  “It’s Thursday.” Ruth stared at her husband in wide-eyed disbelief. “I always go on Thursday.”

  “I believe I will travel with you. I have some business at the bank. Together we will stop off by the Brueder place on the way home.” Joseph Miller allowed his smile to surface as he waved the check at them. “We have ourselves a wedding to plan.”

  30

  KYLE SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE gazing out the back window. The clock above the stove ticked loudly in the quiet room. She had been home for over an hour, and still she had not managed to take off her coat.

  She glanced at the phone on the cabinet wall and knew she should call Kenneth. But she could not seem to find the strength to rise. Crossing the floor and picking up the phone and forming the words to tell him—it was all too difficult. She could see him now, rushing back, listening to the news, and then sweeping her up in his arms. But she could not start the process in motion.

  “It can’t be,” she whispered for the hundredth time. “It just can’t be true.”

  But even as she fought against it, inwardly she knew it was true. Even without the doctor’s confirmation, she knew.

  The whispers kept coming, the quiet little protests. “But how can we have another child? Not after . . .”

  Fear gripped her heart. What if it happened again? What if she bore another child with a damaged heart? What if she lost another baby?

  The thought stabbed at her heart with lances of fear. She could not go through it again.

  Kyle caught the faintest hint of another voice—a still, quiet voice, one almost lost amid her inner storm. Straining to hear the soft words brought her a first ray of hope. “He is here, Kyle—He is here,” she heard as she remembered her husband’s declaration.

  Kyle yearned to accept the truth, but her mind shouted back, God allowed my first baby to die.

  She found herself listening to the first voice. And yet He was there. I survived.

  “I didn’t want to. For months I didn’t want to,” she argued aloud.

  But I did. And over the past few weeks, since she and Kenneth had come back to each other, she had discovered a new strength of faith.

  But would she be strong enough to face the loss of another baby?

  Kyle knotted her hands together in her lap and bowed her head. The words seemed to rise up from the deepest part of her being, forcing their way through the storm in her mind. “Lord, I need your help. I need you,” Kyle whispered. “I’m so frightened. I don’t want to go through what I went through before. If another baby is on the way, you will have to walk with me the whole way, Lord. I must lean on you. Help me to trust you completely—whatever happens.”

  Kyle heard little paws tap their way lightly across the kitchen floor. She felt the nuzzling of Goldie’s wet nose against her leg. Instinctively her hand patted the small dog’s head. A soft whine started somewhere deep within the spaniel’s chest, and she pressed closer to Kyle’s skirt.

  Kyle opened her eyes and stroked the fur around Goldie’s ears. “I wish I could trust as simply as you can,” she whispered. “My Master is far more trustworthy than your mistress is. I need to let go of my concerns and let God take care of me. And of the baby.”

  She found herself listening to the words as though they were being spoken by someone else. “What has happened in the past has no bearing on the promises of the future. He has said He will be with me. That is a promise. He never breaks His promises. Even if it means . . .”

  Yes, it was true. She could trust. She would have to trust. And though Kyle inwardly trembled when thinking of the future, she felt a gentle assurance that indeed she could lean on her Lord.

  Kyle lifted the puppy to her lap. The little dog responded by nuzzling her delightedly. She smiled, rose and tucked Goldie under her arm, and crossed the kitchen to the phone. She picked up the receiver and dialed Kenneth’s number.

  He would be so overjoyed.

  31

  KYLE REACHED FOR ABIGAIL’S ARM as they moved away from the taxi. They were still four blocks from the mission, but she had not minded when her mother had asked the driver to drop them off here. The day was lovely and warm, and the doctor encouraged her to walk as much as possible. “Thank you so much for coming with me today,” she said to Abigail as she squeezed her arm.

  “I would not have missed this for the world.” Abigail drew the hand up close. “As a matter of fact, I asked the taxi to let us off here so I could say something. I’ve been wanting to talk with you for some time now, but I just couldn’t seem to find the words.”

  Kyle glanced at her mother. The previous four months had made a remarkable transformation in her. Or rather, God had worked the transformation.

  On the outside Abigail remained much the same. She dressed impeccably, not a hair was out of place, and she walked with such poise and confidence that most people could not help but pause and look her way. Yet the inward
change was clearly evident. Her eyes shone with a new calm light, the same light which radiated from her features.

  Kyle believed her mother was truly happy for the first time in her life.

  “The day I bought Goldie for you, do you remember that?”

  “Of course.” Kyle could not repress a smile at the thought of the curious little dog. “When I think back about it, the day Goldie arrived was when something inside me opened up to the light.”

  “It was a day of opening up for me as well,” Abigail said ruefully. “I realized then just how false and superficial my life had always been.”

  “Mother—”

  “No, let me finish, Kyle. It was only after I realized how shallow my life had been, how empty my answers and my promises, that I could begin to feel a need for something else, something deeper.”

  Abigail stopped so she could look directly at her daughter. She reached over and grasped Kyle’s other hand. “And it was you who showed me the truth.”

  “Me? But I was caught up in living the same lie, feeling I had to be in control—”

  “Exactly. You were becoming what I had always wanted you to be, and what I knew then was so wrong. For both of us.” Abigail looked stricken with grief. “Oh, Kyle, I pushed you to be something, someone, you were not. I made your childhood a misery.”

  A tear escaped and rolled down Abigail’s cheek. Kyle felt a burning in her own eyes but did not want to release Abigail to wipe it away. Abigail took a shaky breath and said, “I just wanted to apologize. To put into words how wrong I was to demand and to cause you such pain. And how right you were to refuse.”

  Kyle managed to whisper, “You don’t need—”

  “Yes, I most certainly do. You showed me how wrong I had always been by finally doing what I had always wanted. Your pain pushed you into seeking superficial answers to life, but I don’t have that excuse. I did it because I wanted to control everything, especially my life. I refused to see anything beyond my own desires. I lived my life on the shallowest possible level.”

  Kyle squeezed both her hands. “Not anymore.”

  “No, thanks to you.”

  “And God.”

  “Yes.” Abigail’s face crumpled as she wept. “Oh, Kyle, can you forgive me?”

  Kyle smiled through her own tears as their arms encircled each other. She whispered, “There is nothing left to forgive.”

  Ruthie cautiously agreed to the visit when Kyle called. Uneasy memories of their encounter at the mission were still with her. Even after receiving Kyle’s letter of apology, Ruthie wasn’t quite sure of what she should expect. Kyle explained that she had chosen to contact her by letter to save Ruthie the awkwardness of attempting to forgive her on the spot.

  Kyle was scarcely in the door when Ruthie heard her exclaim, “Look how big he’s grown!”

  To her surprise, Abigail joined her in the doorway, “And he’s brown as a berry!”

  Ruthie stood back and let the two women bend down to admire the sturdy little boy. He responded with a one-tooth grin and a very wet coo. Ruthie said, “Soon enough he’s going to be into everything.”

  “I can’t believe how much he’s changed just in these last months. He’s not an infant anymore,” Kyle said, joining the baby on the floor. “You’re growing up so fast. Aren’t you, yes?” Kyle reached out, and Samuel grasped her finger with a chubby hand.

  “I’m with him every day, and still I can’t believe how fast he changes.” Ruthie remained cautious in her inspection of Kyle. She had seen Kyle at church a few times, but this was her first chance since the spring to have a good long look at Kyle with the baby.

  As she watched, the painful memories and the concerns she had felt since Kyle had telephoned began to evaporate. Kyle was not just playing at happiness. It was coming from deep inside. The baby knew it, too, and responded to her cooing and hand games with delighted chuckles. Ruthie felt her tension drain away. It was true. Kyle was back with them again.

  “You look . . . you look lovely,” Ruthie said softly.

  “Doesn’t she just,” Abigail agreed, rising to her feet.

  Ruthie had also seen Abigail several times over the past few months at church, where she had made a point of coming over, talking and getting to know the baby. Trying to forge bonds which still astonished and moved Ruthie. Now she walked over and gave Ruthie a big hug. “You are as healthy looking and tanned as your baby.”

  “That’s what farm life will do for you,” Ruthie joked, then added, “Samuel loves our visits home.”

  Kyle raised her head to give them both a smile. There was so much heart in it, such a sense of warmth and concern and deep joy that Ruthie felt tears spring to her eyes.

  “Samuel and I go up to the farm as often as we can,” Ruthie explained. “They’ve needed every hand they could spare, first getting the flowers into the earth and then harvesting the blooms. Not only that, but the summer’s been so hot, and this city air is probably not good for the baby. It’s the only thing that makes me wish I wasn’t here working in the mission. It means that Samuel has to live in a place where there’s so little green.”

  She dropped down to her knees, more to see Kyle’s face up close than because she wanted to be near her son. She watched as Kyle and Abigail exchanged a glance. Ruthie turned to look up at the older woman’s face, but found only pride and that same quiet satisfaction. Ruthie went on. “Then we had to start picking the wild flowers. I’ve been tying little Samuel to my back and carrying him along.”

  “It looks like he’s enjoyed it.”

  “He loves every minute out there,” Ruthie agreed. “He chatters to the butterflies and the clouds, and when he gets tired he just falls asleep.” She stretched a hand toward Samuel, and he grabbed at it playfully. “The wild flowers have their own seasons, and we have to be there and ready when they bloom. Let’s see, we’ve been gathering baby’s breath and larkspur and straw flowers. Then we walk the gravelly river bottoms looking for pussy willows and wormwood and sage. We use them because they keep their fragrance a long time. You have to be careful, though. Have your mouth open when you pick it and you’ll taste nothing but sage for the rest of the day.”

  Kyle used one hand to keep the baby occupied, playing like a little creeping animal that finally raced up and tickled the baby’s stomach. Samuel loved it and punctuated their communication with squeals of laughter.

  “Simon set up rafters in the larger barn,” Ruthie went on. “We’re turning it into the drying shed. Four acres doesn’t sound like much, but all the plants have to be harvested by hand so the flowers aren’t damaged.”

  “Four acres sound like an enormous amount to me,” Abigail responded, smiling down at Samuel. “Are you sure you can sell them all?”

  “We’ve already had a company meet with us, and they want to buy everything we can give them. Simon and Papa talked and talked about this. They decided to give them half, enough to cover all our costs and pay for next year’s planting. The rest we’ll sell ourselves in the winter markets. Simon says we can get a lot more selling directly to customers, and Sarah loves to design the arrangements in the holders. You should see what they’re collecting—old toolboxes, rusty cans, cracked flowerpots, creamers, egg crates, broken baskets from other farms, even an old birdhouse.”

  “You sound like you don’t quite believe it all,” Kyle observed.

  “Part of me doesn’t,” Ruthie agreed, with a little laugh. “After all the problems and worries at the farm, it’s hard to imagine we might have it all behind us. And now Simon’s getting married in the fall. . . .” She shook her head. “And the money for the flowers. Where did it come from? It seems like a miracle.”

  There was a moment’s silence before Abigail said quietly, “Yes. Yes, that is exactly what we have seen. All of us. A true miracle.”

  Ruthie caught sight of another glance between mother and daughter. One so full of joy and love she felt as though any further question no longer mattered.

  Abigail turned
her smile to Ruthie and announced, “Kyle has some news of her own.”

  “So do you,” Kyle countered.

  “I would rather you tell her that as well,” Abigail replied.

  “Mother . . .”

  “Please, Kyle. For me.”

  “All right.” A smile sparkled over Kyle’s features. “Then you tell her the other part.”

  “Come on, you two!” Ruthie laughed. “Somebody tell me something!”

  Abigail turned to Ruthie, took a big breath, and announced, “Samuel is going to have a cousin.”

  Ruthie took only a moment to figure it out. “Oh, Kyle!” Her own heart leaped with joy. “This is wonderful!”

  “Almost four months,” Kyle said, rising so she could accept Ruthie’s hug. “I didn’t want to believe it at first, and then I was afraid to tell anyone.”

  Ruthie nodded in understanding. “And now?”

  “Now,” Kyle said, taking a long breath, “now I am learning to put my trust in God. Kenneth reminds me. And Abigail. And Martha and Harry. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

  “I’m so glad you told me,” Ruthie said warmly. “Now I can add my prayers to theirs. Each and every day.”

  “Thank you,” Kyle said, and once more they hugged.

  “Now tell her the other part,” Abigail urged.

  “Won’t you do it?” Kyle asked shyly.

  “You promised.”

  “All right.” Another breath, then she began. “Mother decided she wanted to sell the house.”

  “It’s too big for one person,” Abigail added. “It’s too big for one family, for that matter. It’s huge.”

  Kyle looked at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell her?”

  “You’re doing fine.” Abigail waved her hands and motioned for Kyle to continue.

  Kyle turned back to Ruthie. “I’d be sorry to see it go. I was raised there. And now it’s the place where I remember my father the most clearly.”

  “I’m amazed to hear her say this,” Abigail told Ruthie. “She was never happy there.” Her tone acknowledged her sorrow for Kyle’s lost childhood.