To Walk In Sunshine

by Sally Laity

  She could barely make out Ken’s special place in the dimmest of morning’s light when she passed by. But remembering the cave he’d shown her, she concluded that it was the perfect place to hide. No one except the two of them knew it existed—and best of all, she might even spot Ken from there.

  It became easier to pick her way through the undergrowth as the light gradually increased. In preparation for her hiding place, she unrolled her blanket and gathered whatever dry leaves and evergreen branches she could find, then bundled them up.

  When at last she came to the granite rock, she followed the shallow shelf of land around to the front of it. Just in case some forest creature was using it for a den, she made extra noise. But nothing stirred. So she crept inside the small cavern and set about preparing her bed. She’d forgotten to bring along a container for water, but with so many streams and springs running through the mountains, she figured that to be a minor problem. The main thing was that she had managed to escape. And she would never go back, no matter what.

  ❧

  Ken showered to wash the bulk of the coal dust off himself in the shiftin’ shack at the end of his workday, then hung his dirty clothes on one of the chains suspended from the structure’s high ceiling before changing into his other clothes.

  Nearby, fellow miner Sandy MacNeil stepped into the coveralls he wore to and from the colliery. “Sounds like we had a wee bit of a close call today,” he commented, “on level four.”

  “Yeah, but at least it was small enough that no one got hurt this time,” Ken replied. “It just took them longer to get out.”

  “Have ye been hearin’ the rumors I have, that some o’ the guys are robbin’ pillars so they don’t have to work so hard to fill their buggies?”

  Ken nodded. He knew that mine regulations required a number of pillars of uncut coal to remain in place to support the roof throughout each level. Cutting them too close presented even more hazards to the workers. “I’m just hoping that nobody actually walks off the job, as they’re threatening to do. Feelings are still pretty bad over that last explosion and the loss of ten men. What we don’t need right now is another strike.”

  Recalling the hardships his family and others suffered during previous strikes, Ken held out hope that things would not come to that. The old debt at Murphy’s store was finally getting within the possibility of being repaid, now that Tim had started bringing in a regular wage and Hannah was receiving those surprising bonuses. A walkout now would put them back where they started.

  “Well, Preacher, I guess ye can take the matter up wi’ the Lord. Maybe He’ll keep us all goin’.”

  “Right. I’ll do that.” Plunking his cap on his head, Ken waved and exited the building. After this long day, all he wanted to do was get home and take a real bath. But as he turned, from the corner of his eye he caught a distant blur of color in the woods—a distinctive shade of green that didn’t quite fit in. He blinked, and it was gone. Must have been my imagination, he decided. Then it appeared again. Someone was up there. It couldn’t be. Rosalind?

  He glanced down at his still grimy hands, the grubby clothes he put on just to come to work and go home in, and he grimaced. He wasn’t exactly dressed to go calling. But he sensed that if that truly was her up there, she must have a good reason. He’d better go and check it out.

  Knowing that hiking up there from this angle would be no easy task, he angled around to a gentler route. Even though it would take him awhile, at least he wouldn’t have to scale that sheer rock drop-off. That would be impossible.

  After a lengthy climb through the thickly wooded hills, he finally came within sight of the massive granite formation. “Rosalind?” he called softly in disbelief.

  Her head peeked out from the little cave at the base, then the rest of her, and she came running to him like a gazelle. “Ken! I prayed you would come.”

  He held a hand out to stop her just when she would have thrown her arms around him. “I’m a little dirty at the moment.” He looked closely at her, noting dark circles under her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have run away.”

  “From your grandparents? What on earth for?”

  Rosa’s arched brows tipped into a frown, and she pouted. “I could not stay there any longer. I. . .want to be with you.”

  Entirely confused now, Ken kneaded his chin in thought. “Then why didn’t you come last Saturday? I hung around the log waiting for you all day, and you never showed up.”

  “I could not.”

  She dropped to the ground and sat with her emerald skirt pooling around her and waited for Ken to join her. “My grandparents have forbidden me ever to be with you again,” she said, her sable eyes troubled. “And I could not stand that. What is worse, they are arranging for me to marry a man from the camp. Nicholas Habib.”

  Ken felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. Still, he had a strong conviction that he had no right to interfere with the customs of her people.

  “Nicholas is mean and cruel,” Rosalind continued, “with a violent temper. He was married once before, and his wife died suddenly. No one knows how. I think he is cruel enough that even if he did not cause her death, she would have wanted to die.”

  Ken took a few minutes to digest this revelation. In his wildest imaginings he wouldn’t have come up with something like the tale she had just told him. But what to do? He scratched his head in thought, his cap moving up and down with the movement of his fingers. Then he expelled a ragged breath. “There’s only one thing to do.”

  “What is it?” Rosalind raised her lashes and looked at him, her face shining with hope.

  “You have to go back.”

  “What?” She jumped to her feet. “You would have me go back there? I cannot believe it.” Jamming a fist on either hip, she stalked back toward the rock. “I thought you would be glad to see me. That you cared. I thought you would help me.”

  “Oh, Rosalind, I am glad to see you. You can’t know how glad. I’ve been worried out of my mind, wondering what happened, if your ankle got worse, or what else was wrong.”

  She stopped and slowly turned back. “But you will not help me.”

  Ken went to her and cupped her cheek lightly in his palm. “There is no way I can help you at the moment, Love. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want us to get together this way. It isn’t right. It would mean you had to choose me over your own family. They must love you. . .and now they’re worried about you, just as I was, wondering what happened, if you’re okay.”

  “But they want to force me to marry Nicholas,” she cried. “And I cannot. I will not. He is not kind, as you are. He does not care about the ways of God, as you do and as I have learned to. I could not bear to be with him.”

  “I know,” he said gently, wishing he and his clothes were cleaner so he could draw her into his arms. But since he could not, he focused on the part of her statement that had sent a bolt of joy through him. “You said you have learned to care about God and His ways. If that is true, then you must know He would not want you to dishonor your guardians.”

  He raised her chin with his index finger. “You have to trust Him now, Rosa, more than ever before. Let Him handle it. He’s promised to work our lives out according to His plan. I know He wouldn’t want you married to an unbeliever.”

  “But you do not know just how determined my grandparents are, and they are not listening to the Lord.”

  Seeing her misery, he sought a way to add comfort. “Try to remember He’s promised never to bring us more than we can bear.”

  She raised her misty eyes to his with a small smile. “Then I will trust Him. I cannot bear to marry Nicholas, so God will have to prevent it. It is His promise. I will do the right thing and go back.”

  Ken gave an encouraging nod, hoping he wasn’t making the worst mistake of his life—and that Rosalind wasn’t, either.

  Thirteen

  “I’ll go with you part of the way, if that will make it any easier,” K
en offered, taking Rosalind’s hand and walking by her side.

  Carrying her blanket roll under one arm, she turned her head, and the lashes that masked her eloquent eyes swept up to reveal her trepidation at the thought of facing her grandparents.

  Ken felt his own spirit flagging and had to remind himself to be strong for her. He squeezed her tapered fingers. “I’ll be praying for you all the time. I promise.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “And I will pray also.”

  He pushed aside some young branches barring their path, and they continued through the tangle of underbrush that so effectively hid the trail. “Did you really mean what you said back at the cave, about learning to care about the ways of God?”

  She nodded, but her gaze fell to the ground. “I believe what I have read in the Bible you gave me, and now I, too, have peace about death. And if I am forced to marry Nicholas,” she added almost inaudibly, “I would almost wish for it.”

  The depth of her misery stabbed at Ken’s heart. “Please don’t say that, Rosa. If I didn’t have every confidence that God would take care of you, I wouldn’t be encouraging you to go back there.”

  Her sidelong glance showed no less pain, but she plodded doggedly onward.

  When they reached his special thicket, Ken didn’t have to tell her they’d come to the parting of the ways. He drew her to a stop, tugging her gently to face him. Their gazes met and held, and for a timeless moment, Ken felt himself drowning in the rich chocolate depths. He had to struggle to breathe.

  “Would you. . .hold me?” she pleaded softly. “Just once? In case. . .”

  Ken cast a look of disdain at his soiled clothes, his barely clean hands, knowing that if she returned with traces of coal dust on her clothes, it could only make things worse.

  “I will wrap in my blanket,” she said, as if reading his mind.

  The suggestion provided just enough strength for him to muster a smile. “I wish we’d have thought of that before. Look at all the time we’ve wasted.”

  Never once releasing his gaze, she shook out the woolen folds and threw it around herself like a shroud, then took the tiny step remaining between them.

  Ken enveloped her soft, willowy form in his arms and cradled her there, and his heart melted as her shoulders shook with silent sobs and her tears dampened his shirt. For a heartbeat or two, he racked his mind for reasons to make her go through with this insane plan, when he could just grab her hand and run. They could go someplace far away, where there were no coal mines and no debts and no relatives who refused to understand.

  But soon enough, his more rational side won out.

  As if she’d sensed the change, she eased from his embrace and offered a brave smile, then turned and walked away, folding the blanket as she went.

  Ken sank down onto the log and put his head in his hands, unable even to pray that God would give them both the strength to face whatever lay ahead. How long he sat there, he had no idea. But gradually the realization dawned that his family would think he’d gotten hurt if he didn’t show up at least by the time Timmy came home from the breaker.

  He put a hand down to push himself to his feet, and his eye spotted something white protruding from the hollow part of the log. He bent and picked up the creased paper, then carefully opened it up.

  My dearest Ken. . .these are the deepest wishes of my heart.

  His legs folded beneath him as he glimpsed the awesome beauty of Rosalind’s heart in the poem she’d written him.

  To walk with you in sunshine. . .to never have to hide. . . .

  He read every line through once, then again, lingering in places that especially touched him.

  To let myself be lost inside the wonders of your kiss. . .to fall asleep within your arms—I often think of this. . . .

  He felt overcome that she had somehow managed to capture his own unspoken hopes and dreams and express them in every phrase. Truly the two of them were kindred spirits.

  But even as the poignant thoughts and phrases sang in his ears, the utter hopelessness of their love taunted him with cruel finality.

  In all likelihood, Rosa was lost to him. . .forever.

  ❧

  Grandmother and Grandfather Azar glanced up from their supper, forks poised midway to their lips, as Rosalind came into the cabin.

  “Where have you been?” her grandfather demanded, his tone far more gruff than she’d ever heard it in her life. “We have been out of our minds with worry, your grandmother and I.”

  “I am sorry,” she murmured, refusing to be cowed by his fury. “It was wrong for me to run away. That is why I have come back.”

  “I will inform Nicholas that we will not have to get men together for a search. He will be glad to hear you have returned.”

  Rosalind moistened her lips and took a deep breath for courage. “I have not come back to Nick. I have come back only to you. I will not marry him. Ever.”

  Her guardians’ mouths dropped open, and their eyes rounded in shock. She had never defied them before.

  But Rosa plunged on without giving them a chance to respond. “You can punish me as many ways as you wish, and I will bear it. But I will never be that man’s wife. He is mean and cruel and would only hurt me all of our days. You cannot expect me to go willingly to such a life. Not if you love me.”

  “But we have contract,” Grandfather stated flatly.

  Rosa held her ground. “I do not care about the contract. I asked you many times—begged, even pleaded—that you would not force me to marry him. But you still went ahead with your plans, with no regard for my wishes. I thought you loved me and wanted my happiness.”

  “We do, Child.” Her grandmother stood and moved to get another plate. “You must be hungry. Come and eat. We will tell you reasons for our choice.”

  “Nick is good man,” Grandfather added. “Has much money saved. He will give you fine home. Make good life for you.”

  Casting a gaze to the ceiling, Rosa shook her head. “You do not hear me. It is not money I want. It is not the fine home he might give me. It is not Nick I love.” And having said that, she decided to get the rest out in the open as well. “I have been reading the Bible and learning about God. I have become a Christian, just like the missionaries who once came to our people in Lebanon.

  “I know you are my elders, and I must respect you. But God has even more power and authority over me now, and He says a believer must not marry one who does not believe. Nicholas does not believe in God, nor does he have regard for His ways. If he had, he would be kind and loving, and we would see peace in his eyes. My friend, Ken Roberts, is a Christian, and my heart belongs to him. I am in love with him. . .and if I cannot marry him, then I will stay a maiden all of my life. I will grow old alone. With you or by myself. It does not matter.”

  “You do not know what you are saying,” her grandmother chided, even as she set utensils and a cup at Rosa’s place. “This man—this coal digger—has filled your mind with dreams. But he is not of our people. He does not know our ways. Your life with him would soon turn sour.” As if they were in the middle of a discussion regarding the weather, she gestured for Rosa to take her chair and eat.

  The food looked tempting enough, as always, and to be truthful, the bread she had taken with her had barely seen her through the day, even though she’d found some dried tea-berries near the cave. But with the thought of her uncertain future, the loss of the man she loved, Rosa feared the first mouthful would stick in her throat and choke her. She made no move toward the table.

  Her grandfather expelled a heavy breath. “We will give you a few days to change your mind. A young girl thinks her heart will guide her in right way. Soon you will see that we choose what is best for you. I will go tell Nick that you have returned.”

  Rosalind looked from one of them to the other, astounded by their stubbornness, yet knowing that her own was a perfect match. “I will never change my mind,” she said evenly. “Never. I belong to God now, and I shall obey His instructio
ns. You can tell that to Nicholas when you see him.” She threw her hands up in disgust and flounced into her bedroom.

  As she sank to her bed, she could feel all her dreams crumbling. They would never understand. She would not let them force her to marry Nick. . .but Ken was as good as lost to her, and she to him.

  ❧

  Ken cast a look of despair toward the clouds gathering in the sky, building up to yet another summer storm. The day had been unbearably hot as it was, and the added exertion of climbing and descending that steep hill to see Rosalind after work caused the sweat to pour down his back all the way home. But with all the other rotten circumstances of his life, the added discomfort fit right in. He’d gotten here before the breaker closed down for the night. . .but no bath would wash away the sadness of giving up Rosa. It made his insides ache.

  “Hi, Big Brother,” Hannah said cheerfully as he went inside. “You’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

  “A bit. Where’s Ma?”

  “At the store. I found a note on the icebox when I got home. It says she’s going by to take some chicken soup to Mrs. Llewellyn on her way back, too. She should be in soon, though.”

  “No problem. I’ll go take my bath so the tub will be free for Tim.”

  His sister nodded. “Kenny?” she said, stopping him before he got too far. “Could we could talk later? The two of us?”

  “Sure, Sis. Anytime.”

  After supper ended and the dining room and kitchen had been set to order, Ma took her mending basket and sat in the parlor rocking chair, while Tim absorbed himself in the latest stack of comic books he’d borrowed from a friend. Hannah caught Ken’s eye on her way to the front porch, and she motioned with her head for him to go with her.

  Rain pattered the porch roof and the dirt street as they took seats on rickety wicker chairs that had been in the family forever. Intermittent flashes of lightning turned night to day, a low rumble of thunder shortly following each one.