01 The Calling of Emily Evans

by Janette Oke

  “That will make three of us who are deaconesses,” Emily said. “And we even get to go to conference-and vote.”

  Both girls laughed and gave each other an unrestrained hug. To sit on the conference bar was quite an honor.

  The distant train wailed against the silence of the spring morning, and Ruth placed her luggage closer to the boarding dock.

  “You’ll write?” urged Emily.

  “Of course. And you?” responded Ruth.

  “Oh, I will. Promise. I’ll have more time than you,” Emily answered.

  “Not if you are going to hurry through that book list,” Ruth quipped, but Emily merely shrugged and nodded in reply. The reading course was demanding, and she knew her father would be carefully watching her to see that she didn’t overdo.

  There was just enough time before the train wheezed in for Emily to take Ruth’s hand and bow for a quick prayer. Then the two friends parted—Ruth excitedly boarding the train to her first mission work, and Emily reluctantly returning to the dorm to wait for her train home.

  More preparation, Lord? Emily prayed wistfully. But then she resolutely set her mind to the task at hand.

  But rather than the two or three weeks Emily had anticipated, it was a full seven weeks before she had her books read, papers of approval, and was ready for her first assignment. By then her health was improved, her walk more steady, her face less strained.

  Emily would not be boarding. A small living accommodation was available, she was informed by the superintendent in his letter assigning her to the small community of Wesson Creek. It was a two-day drive away from home by horse and buggy. Her father himself was providing her with a steady team of grays and a secondhand buggy.

  Emily was relieved yet anxious about her assignment, for she had never lived alone before. She would be glad for the solitude, which would help her in studying and prayer time. But at times it would be lonely, too, she reminded herself.

  She felt thoroughly confused and strangely agitated as she saw her father reluctantly load the buggy for the trip, occasionally giving her long, questioning glances. She was both excited and fearful, exuberant and solemn, eager to be off and doubtful about leaving the home she had known and loved.

  But she would not let the doubts and fears show. She kept the smile on her face, the spring in her step, and indicated that she was perfectly at ease with the path her life was taking.

  Emily didn’t know what all her father was piling into the already heavily loaded buggy. Gunny sack after gunny sack and box after box were stacked beneath the seat, spilling into the back of the democrat. She remembered that Ruth had set off to her assignment with just her two worn suitcases. But Ruth is boarding, she reminded herself. I’ll need to set up housekeeping on my own.

  At last the final trunk and small valise were settled into the packed buggy. “I do hope the weather holds,” her father remarked with an eye on the cloudless sky. “Will Darin borrowed my only canvas tarp, and when I went over there this morning to collect it, his missus said he won’t be home until next week.”

  Emily was totally unconcerned. With a sky as clear as the one that stretched above them, she was sure she could make a two-day trip without mishap.

  Hugs and goodbyes were exchanged with her sisters and father, and Emily was off down the dusty road. A hand-drawn map from her father was tucked securely in her coat pocket.

  The tears did not spill over until Emily was well hidden by the stands of poplar lining the country road. Then she allowed all the deep emotion to run down her cheeks and drip from her quivering chin.

  This totally new venture-one she had been called to-was something she had to do, but it was not without some trepidation, some tearing away of old and dear bonds.

  Emily made no effort to control her tears until she spotted a team approaching. She sniffed, took a handkerchief from her pocket, and hoped that she was successful in repairing the damage. A neighbor merely nodded and tipped his hat as they passed.

  The sun was hot overhead, and Emily was glad her father had insisted she bring her everyday bonnet. She wore it now in place of the brand-new dark bonnet that was required to identify her as a church-approved deaconess. That treasured piece of headgear was protected from dust and sun in the small box at her feet.

  Her father had picked a gentle team. Though Emily was by no means a horse-woman, she had often driven her father’s well-disciplined team of bays. Shadow and Star, her new horses, needed little attention except to steer them in the right direction and urge them forward when they tried to loiter along the track.

  Around noon Emily pulled the team into the shade of some larger poplar trees and climbed stiffly down from the buggy. Not used to driving a team for such a long period of time, she looked at her hands with dismay. Her fingers cramped and her hands felt as though blisters were forming. So much for being a sturdy farm girl, she thought wryly. She pulled off her bonnet and let the wind blow through her hair.

  Emily unhooked the team and led them to water in the ditch. Shadow, eager for a drink, almost upended her in the dirty puddle. She spoke sharply to the horse and jerked on his bridle. Emily finally let go of the rein and stepped back to let him find his own way. She wasn’t going to argue with the big gray.

  After the team had satisfied their thirst, Emily tied them to posts where there was ample grazing, then lifted the bag with her lunch from the wagon. Ina had prepared it for her, and Emily’s eyes misted as she looked at all the things Ina knew to be her favorites.

  She was so filled with emotion that she could hardly swallow, so most of the lunch was rebundled and placed back in the buggy. Perhaps she would feel more like eating later.

  The team was reluctant to give up the tall grasses. Emily had to drag on their reins and shout at the horses to get them back to the buggy. By the time she finally had them re-hitched, Emily was hot, sweaty, and angry.

  At long last she was on her way again, the afternoon sun beating down upon her head.

  “At least it’s not raining,” she muttered to herself as she flapped the reins over the two broad backs in front of her. The country road could be almost impassible when the heavy rains rutted the thick clay soil.

  She was going to stay overnight with Fred and Agatha Russell, newly married and now in charge of the church at Conner. She was a little shy about seeing her former classmates for the first time as husband and wife. But as the afternoon wore on and the long shadows lengthened to darken the road she traveled, Emily no longer was concerned about fitting in at the home of newlyweds. She would be so thankful to see her friends and the parsonage that marked her abode for the night. She strained forward, eagerly scanning the road ahead for signs of civilization.

  But it was almost dark before she finally spotted the small frame house. With a silent prayer of thanks, she turned the horses in at the gate. Her friends must have been watching for her and came out on the porch to greet her warmly. Fred took the team, and Agatha ushered Emily in to refresh herself at the kitchen basin before the evening meal was served.

  Chapter Seven

  Starting Out

  Emily made her way down the path to the team that Fred had hooked to her loaded buggy. The sun was just making its way up into the summer sky. Emily knew it was going to be another hot day, and she firmly placed her bonnet on her head.

  With warm thanks to Fred and Agatha, she settled herself on the buggy seat, picked up the reins and clucked to the team of grays. They responded with eagerness and Emily felt a twinge of guilt, sure that the horses expected to be on their way home. At the end of the lane, Emily had to force the team to make a right-hand rather than a left-hand turn. They reluctantly responded to her tug on the reins. She waved one last time at Agatha, and then Emily was alone once more.

  Emily felt refreshed and eager after her night’s rest. Her hands had been carefully washed and salved, and Agatha had even cut the feet from a pair of Fred’s heavy discarded socks and snipped holes in the remaining portion for Emily’s thumbs
—a mitt of sorts to protect her from the wear of the reins. Emily wished she had thought of something like that before she left home.

  The day grew hotter and hotter. Emily feared that even with the protection of her hat, she wouldn’t be able to endure the heat much longer. A breeze stirred just in time.

  As she had the day before, she stopped to eat, this time much past the noon hour. She had been watching for a place to water her horses, but the ditches along the dusty road had been dry.

  At last she spied a small pond. There were no sheltering trees nearby, but there was grass in the ditches. She guided her buggy off the road the best she could and climbed down. She was even more stiff than she had been the day before.

  The horses, anxious to get to the water, were not too patient with Emily as she struggled with tugs and yokes. At last she separated the team from the buggy and led them carefully down the sharp incline to the edge of the water. The big mare was fairly cooperative, but Shadow, the gelding, lumbered forward and stepped on Emily’s heel enough to cause her pain. When she squealed and jerked the rein, he threw his head angrily into the air, almost knocking the unsuspecting girl into the pond.

  The two horses drank deeply, at length both turning their interest to the grasses at the water’s edge. Emily tied each to a post and hobbled back up to the buggy to get the lunch Agatha had sent along. She was hungry. She was also thirsty. Even though the bottle of water Agatha had prepared was warm and uninviting, Emily drank nearly as long as the horses.

  She removed her hat and pushed her hair back from her damp face to catch the full benefit of the afternoon breeze. Pulling her father’s map from her coat, she saw she still had a long way to go.

  She packed up the remains of her lunch and placed it where she could easily reach it if she grew hungry again before arriving at her own small parsonage. She eyed the horses as they greedily pulled mouthfuls of the coarse grasses. They hadn’t been feeding very long, but, oh, she was anxious to be on her way. Her eyes went to the sky and to her dismay she saw large storm clouds boiling up in the west.

  “Oh my!” she said aloud in alarm. “It looks like rain and here I sit right in the open! I don’t even have a rain cape with me.”

  Rain was another thing Emily had not thought to prepare for.

  She retrieved the team and hitched them hurriedly to the buggy while they switched angry tails and tossed defiant heads. But Emily paid no attention.

  “We’ve got to hurry,” she said firmly to the balky team. “It’s going to rain and we are miles away from home.” She smacked the reins on their round rumps, and they moodily started down the road at a brisk trot.

  The trot did not last long. Emily knew the team was as tired as she, and she didn’t have the heart to run them. They returned to a walk and Emily drove with one anxious eye on the sky.

  The wind increased and Emily took another look at her map to be sure she was still on the right road. The impending storm didn’t seem to threaten the horses in any way. They trudged along just as carelessly as they had done in the heavy heat.

  But Emily was fearful enough for all of them. The dark, scudding clouds looked as if they would soak everything that was in the buggy. Emily cast furtive glances backward, trying to determine what was in each of the sacks and crates her father had packed.

  She spotted bundles of sugar and flour. What use would they be to her if they got wet? She tried to think of some way to cover the supplies, but she could think of nothing. She began to pray, earnestly, fervently, for some divine intervention.

  Just as the storm began to spatter angrily about Emily, she came around a bend and spotted a farmyard. Then for the first time she used the buggy whip, and the team started off at a brisk trot that Emily found difficult to control.

  She did manage to direct the team into the yard, thankful that here was some help, but her relief was short-lived. The place was deserted. Tall grasses grew up around the buildings. Glass was missing from some of the windows of the aging house. Shingles flapped noisily in the tearing wind, and a large padlock held the door securely in place or it would have been flapping too. She knew immediately that no help would be found here.

  She looked around and saw a sagging barn with a one-hinged double door and wondered if there was some way she could get the buggy in there and out of the storm.

  It was hard work, but Emily at last managed to pull the huge door sufficiently open to fasten it back against the barn face. Then she tugged and pulled at its companion until she forced it open also.

  She crawled back onto the now wet buggy seat and urged the team forward. There was just enough room to make it through the doorway. The horses were reluctant to enter the strange barn and snorted and sidestepped, but Emily would have none of their foolishness. She gave the gelding a sharp slap with the buggy whip, and his forward thrust encouraged the mare to follow.

  Outside, the thunder rolled and crashed, and Emily prayed that the sagging barn would stay in one piece for the duration of the storm.

  The horses restlessly complained about their unfamiliar surroundings. Emily decided she would unhitch the team and put them out to graze. The rain on their backs would bother the horses very little and they did need more grazing.

  She struggled with Shadow and eventually unhooked him from the buggy. Star objected to her teammate leaving and tried to follow. Emily knew that she was going to have problems but spoke to the horse and hoped fervently that the mare would wait patiently until she returned for her.

  The wind was whipping the heavy rain into lashing torrents now. Emily struggled against it to reach a fence where she could tie her horse securely. It would not do for Shadow to decide that now was a good time to head for home.

  Against the wind and cold rain, Emily forced her way back into the gloom of the barn. Star had not been patient and, to Emily’s dismay, had tramped around until she’d managed to break the buggy tongue. Emily nearly wept when she saw the damage. What would she ever do now?

  She untangled the horse and led her, too, out into the beating rain. She found another post near to Shadow and tied the mare securely.

  Back in the barn, soaked to the skin and ready to cry, Emily realized the first thing that she needed to do was to get out of her sopping clothes and into something warm and dry. The storm had dropped the temperature significantly, and her fingers felt like icicles. She rummaged in the semidarkness and found her valise and a fresh change of clothing. She drew back into the shadows, stripped the clinging wet garments from her shivering body and hurried into the dry clothing. Then she pulled the blanket from under the buggy seat and folded it about her. She needed all the warmth she could get.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the barn, and she spotted a welcome pile of dry straw in the corner. She made her way to it and tried to make herself comfortable.

  Just when she thought she might have found some measure of comfort, rain began to drip from the roof above her head. Emily changed her position and went through the settling process again.

  Then she noticed a small stream of water falling directly into her buggy, and Emily jumped up to make sure the sugar bag or flour sack was not immediately under it. The sugar was threatened, so she shifted the sack to a drier spot.

  Back she went to her post on the straw pile again. A few new drips had begun since she vacated the spot, and Emily wondered if there was any place in the building where she was safe from the rain.

  She hugged the blanket about her. There were more blankets in her trunk, but she hated to haul them out in the dirty old barn. She shivered and bundled herself more closely. She would just wait out the storm and then be on her way.

  But the storm did not pass quickly, and Emily became more and more concerned. Occasionally she went to the door and listened for the horses. She could hear them stomping and chomping, quite content to feed while the storm raged about them.

  Emily, too, was feeling the need for nourishment. She went to the buggy and found the rest of her lunch. She was
glad she had left some of it for later. She wouldn’t have known quite where to begin looking for a snack among the supplies in the wagon. Raw potatoes, ground flour, or bagged sugar did not have much appeal.

  Emily ate the bit of lunch and still did not feel satisfied. If there were something to drink, she would feel much better. But the bottle of water had long since been exhausted.

  Overhead the steady stream of pounding rain beat on the weathered roof.

  “This is silly!” Emily said aloud. “All that water-and nothing to drink.” She took Agatha’s bottle and set it outside the door, hoping to collect enough rain to at least moisten her mouth and throat. Then she huddled down into the straw and tried to find some comfort from the cold.

  She finally had to admit that the lack of daylight was no longer a result of the passing storm but because night was falling. Emily had never been brave in the dark. To be at home alone would have been one thing. To be in some old deserted barn was quite another. Emily was shivering now from far more than the chilly night air.

  Again she went to the door and strained to look through the darkness to find the team. They were still there, feeding hungrily on the heavy grasses. Emily knew that she should remove the harnesses, but she could not bring herself to step out into the unknown blackness into the puddles and wet foliage.

  With a shiver she realized that she was stranded for the night. Stranded with only moldy straw for a bed and no way to even lock the door against night prowlers. Emily had never spent a night in any kind of similar conditions before, and a knot of fear tightened her stomach. My reading list surely didn’t prepare me for this, she thought wryly.

  In the distance an owl hooted and Emily shivered again. In the corner something rustled in the straw and Emily had to stifle a scream as she scrambled to her feet. It was just a mouse, she was sure, but Emily was no more willing to share her habitation with a mouse than with a bear.