The Calling of Emily Evans

by Janette Oke

  “Good. We’ll see you after church.”

  And then Mrs. Reilly was gone, leaving Emily standing with Shad.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her arm.“I’ll drive you home.”

  Emily eased her elbow from his hand. Aren’t you being a bit pre-sumptuous? she could have asked. Not “may I,” or “do you mind?” but “I’ll drive you home.”

  But Emily walked with Shad to his car and accepted the lift. The night was cool, her coat inadequate—and his company pleasing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Troubles and Woes

  The attendance at the worship service the next morning was down. Emily was sure that many of the children, and perhaps some of the adults, had found it a little more difficult to get up after yesterday’s celebrations.

  But George and Molly Reilly were there for Sunday school. Emily had let herself wonder if Shad would accompany them and worried about how it might affect her presentation of the lesson if he did.

  “Shad volunteered to do the chores to give George the morning off,” Molly volunteered, and Emily felt both disappointed and relieved.

  After the service Molly approached Emily as she re-stacked hymnbooks.“I’m going to scoot on home and see to dinner,” she said.“I’ll send Shad in for you in half an hour or so.”

  Emily could only nod in agreement.

  She finished tidying the small church and dumped the coins from the offering plate into the palm of her hand. She had been hoping for a bill or two—she was low on so many things she needed. And then she chided herself. She was not serving for the money. Times had been tough for everyone. The whole community was still feeling the effects of the recent drought. This was the first decent crop year for many of the area farmers, and Emily could well imagine that they had a lot of debts of their own. I can’t look to them for what I need any more than I can to my father, she decided firmly.

  “My God shall supply all your needs,” she quoted aloud as she returned to her quarters to freshen up before her dinner engagement.

  Shad arrived in the half hour stated and Emily was ready and waiting.

  “How about bringing along walking shoes?” he suggested.“We might feel like a visit to the creek this afternoon.”

  Emily tried to keep the flush from her cheeks and went to get her other shoes.

  “It’s a beautiful fall day,” Shad remarked as he reached for the shoes Emily carried.“It might be the last opportunity to take a walk before the winter snows come.”

  Emily agreed with a nod, waiting while Shad held the door of his car for her.

  Shad broke the silence.

  “Have you been out to Wesson Creek lately?”

  Emily was puzzled.“I live in Wesson Creek,” she reminded him, feeling a little silly but not knowing what else to say.

  Shad smiled.“I mean the real Wesson Creek,” he responded, and Emily suddenly knew what he meant.

  “Oh-h—the creek. Is that what it’s called?”

  Shad nodded and Emily chuckled.“It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? I just hadn’t heard it called by name before.”

  “So?” he asked.“Have you been back?”

  “Many times,” Emily admitted.“I go there as often as I can.”

  She blushed, hoping Shad didn’t think her trips to the creek had anything to do with him.

  “So do I,” Shad stated simply.“Ever since I was a kid.”

  “It’s so—so peaceful there. Sort of—sort of like being in church,” Emily dared to say.

  She saw a slight shadow pass over Shad’s face, but all he said was, “The most peaceful spot I know.”

  Dinner with the Reillys was enjoyable for Emily, who often ate alone. Shad seemed to fit well in the family of George and Molly. Emily thought it was a shame Molly had not had children herself, but certainly Shad acted as if he belonged.

  After Emily had helped Molly with the dishes, Shad suggested they take their walk and Emily nodded in agreement and changed her shoes.

  From the Reilly farm it was not as far to the creek as it was from where Emily lived in town, and soon the two were approaching the special pond.

  Shad tossed his jacket over a fallen log and motioned for Emily to sit there. He flopped down on the grass beside the small stream.

  “It’s almost dry in some spots,” he said as if to himself.“When I was a boy, it often overflowed its banks. The drought has changed that, but it’s coming back now,” he added on a more hopeful note.

  “Those years were hard on everyone—everything,” murmured Emily, watching the leaves floating on the surface.“I’m glad they’re over.”

  “I’m not really sure they are,” Shad surprised her by saying.

  But he quickly changed the subject.“So where did you grow up?” he questioned, and the rest of the afternoon was spent exchanging bits of information. Emily found herself telling him about her father, Ina and Annabelle. She talked of her school years and her home church and even shared some about her two years at the Bible school.

  They walked slowly back to the Reilly farm, feet shuffling through the autumn leaves, laughter coming easily as they shared a joke. Emily had never experienced an afternoon quite like it before.

  As they came to the rails that divided the farmyard from the pasture land, Shad spoke softly to Emily.“I owe you an apology for the smart-alecky way I acted on the day we met by the creek.”

  Emily turned to look at him.“Oh, but—” she began, but he lifted a hand.

  “But I do,” he continued.“I had no reason to tease you as I did. I’ve felt sorry about it ever since.”

  “Really, I—I’ve thought nothing more of it,” Emily fumbled.

  “Well, I have—with embarrassment. Do you suppose we could sort of—start over?”

  Emily laughed then, a merry, good-humored sound.“Well, I guess we have,” she stated.

  Shad smiled.“You’ll forgive me?”

  Emily’s eyes sparkled as she turned to the young man and reached out a small hand to his.“Forgiven,” she said simply, and Shad accepted the proffered hand and held it after the shake until he had helped her through the rail fence.

  Back at the farmhouse, Molly had coffee ready. Emily didn’t think she was hungry, but when she tasted the sandwiches, they were so good that she ate two of them.

  The talk around the table was cheerful and lively and Emily wished it could go on forever.

  “As much as I hate to,” Shad finally said, “I’ve got to head back to Calgary. It’ll be late by the time I get there.”

  Emily had not thought of him driving back that night.

  George nodded his agreement.“Don’t want you fallin’ asleep on the way,” he said, and Molly looked toward him with concern.

  “I won’t,” Shad quickly assured her.“But I do need to get going.” Then he turned to Emily.“If you’re ready,” he offered, “I’ll drive you home.”

  Emily hurried to get her purse and her extra pair of shoes.

  “I could walk,” she told him as they started for his car.“It’s not far and it would do me good.”

  “And deny me the privilege?” he teased.

  “Well, it would save you some time,” she continued.

  “I’m not that pressed for time. It’ll only take a few minutes to drive into town,” he said as he helped her into the car.

  After a moment or two of peaceful quiet, Shad said, “I’m not sure when I will get out again. Maybe not until Christmas.”

  “I’m hoping to go home at Christmastime,” Emily said, thinking wistfully of her family.

  Shad was silent, and Emily could sense that something was wrong.

  “Yes!” Shad finally said softly.“I hope you can. Your family must really miss you.”

  Emily realized then that he had been wondering about seeing her again, and she had unthinkingly slammed the door on the possibility. She did not know what to say next.

  “Of course, I will need to be here for Christmas Sunday,” she said slowly.
/>   He was quick to pick up the slightest invitation.“Maybe I could drive you home,” he suggested almost shyly.

  Emily felt her pulse quicken. It sounded almost like a date. What would her father think about her bringing a man home who did not share their faith? No, she could not do that. To take Shad home with her would be like acknowledging that he was her beau. And even beyond her father’s concerns were her own. I cannot think of him in that way—ever, she told herself. There was no way she could accept the company of a non-Christian man except as a friend.

  “I—I will need to do a great deal of praying about that,” responded Emily.

  Silence hung heavy about them.

  “I take that as a no,” Shad said softly.

  “I guess it is,” spoke Emily, nervously clasping her hands on her lap.“It isn’t that I wouldn’t like to say yes.”

  “I understand.”

  Emily wondered if he really did. She was near to tears and hoped fervently that he wouldn’t notice.

  When they arrived at the little church, Shad held Emily’s car door for her. She gathered her purse and her shoes and climbed out slowly. She hated for things to end this way, but there seemed nothing else she could do.

  “I enjoyed the day,” Shad was saying close to her ear.

  “I did, too,” Emily echoed. She felt near to tears again.

  “Goodbye, Emily.”

  But Emily choked on her answer. She hated to say goodbye, for she knew how final this goodbye would be. She didn’t say, “Can’t we just be friends?” for she knew instinctively that they both wished for more than friendship.

  She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, managed a wobbly smile and said a soft “Thank you” before leaving.

  Emily was nearly blinded by tears as she stumbled down the walk leading to her door. She had heard the car reverse and then leave the front of the church. Shad was on his way back to the city. That was as it should be. That was as it had to be, but Emily couldn’t deny the ache in her heart. She had never felt this way about a man before.

  She was about to reach for her doorknob when she stumbled over something. Her eyes looked through the darkness for the cause and a gasp escaped her lips. It was Mr. Travis, collapsed on her doorstep! Maybe he had been coming to me for help while I was out spending a frivolous day mooning over a man I can not have. Frantic thoughts raced through her mind.

  Emily dropped her shoes and purse and leaned over the man. He smelled of vomit. Emily felt both revolted and frightened. He must be very ill. I have to get help right away.

  It was too far to Dr. Andrew’s. She ran to the closest person.

  “Mr. John! Mr. John!” she cried, beating loudly with her fist on the mercantile door.“Please. Please! Let me in.”

  When the door opened, Big John stood there, a slice of unfinished bread and butter in his hand, his jaws still working on the last bite he had taken.

  “What is it?” he asked, concern in his voice. But Emily was shaking so hard she could not speak.

  He tossed the unfinished bread onto a nearby counter and grasped Emily by the shoulders.

  “What is it?” he asked again.

  Emily found her voice then.“It’s—it’s Mr. Travis.”

  Big John’s eyes flew wide. He steadied Emily with one huge hand and studied her trembling lips.“What did he do to ya?” he asked sternly.

  “No—no, not to me. He—he’s sick. He collapsed—on my doorstep. Quickly—he needs help.”

  Big John strode toward the door. He still had not released Emily’s arm, and she scrambled to keep up.

  Mr. Travis was lying right where she had left him.

  Emily pointed one shaky finger.“He’s—he’s fainted or collapsed or something.”

  Big John pushed her back and stepped deliberately in front of her as he moved forward, stopping by the fallen man.

  “He’s stinkin’ drunk,” he hissed as he bent over him.“He’s stinkin’ drunk like he always is.”

  Emily gasped. She had never encountered a man in Mr. Travis’s condition.

  “The scum,” hissed Big John again, raising to his feet and pushing the inert man’s arm to his side with a booted foot.“If he weren’t on yer doorstep, I’d leave him right where he is.” And Big John spat in the grass.

  “Is—is he often like—like this?” faltered Emily.

  “Only on the weekdays an’ every weekend,” responded the big man with a sarcastic growl.

  “What about—what about Mrs. Travis? Does she know?” whispered Emily as though she were afraid her remark might betray the secret.

  Big John looked at her steadily.“I guess she knows,” he said deliberately; “seein’ how he knocks her around whenever he can stand up straight.”

  Emily’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Where ya been all yer life, kid?” John asked gruffly.“Where’d ya think she got all those bruises? Runnin’ into doors?”

  Emily just shook her head. So—so the whole town knows the truth, and I never guessed. Poor, poor Mrs. Travis, she thought to herself.

  Big John hoisted the fallen man to his back and carried him off down the walk.

  Emily picked up her purse and shoes, stepped across the vomit on her walk and let herself in her door. She felt sick herself as she carried a pail of water out to slosh her step clean once again.

  Later, Big John was back. Without a word he went to work, placing a sturdy lock on Emily’s door. Emily watched in silence.

  When he finished, he lifted his eyes to hers.“An’ see thet ya use it,” he said, and then was gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Winter

  Emily felt awkward and ill-at-ease the next time she had to go to the Travis farm to pick up her team. Mrs. Travis waved her usual greeting and called to see if Emily had time to stop for tea. She wished she could decline but really had no excuse. She found it difficult to converse naturally with the older woman now that she knew the dreadful secret.

  Emily even found herself inspecting the woman’s face to determine if she had any new bruises. She caught herself, lowered her eyes in shame and prayed silently that God would help her to show the same love and concern for Mrs. Travis and her children as she had previously done. Yes, and for Mr. Travis, too.

  The children greeted Emily just as warmly as ever, and that helped her to feel a bit more relaxed.

  Rena crowded up against Emily’s skirts and showed her the new kitten she had discovered in the barn.

  “Would you like a kitten?” Rena asked generously as Emily’s hand stroked the soft fur.

  “I love kittens,” Emily confided, “but I’m not sure it would be a good idea for me to have one at the parsonage.” “Why? She could eat your mice.”

  Emily cringed. She did hate the mice that plagued her small home.“Does she already hunt mice?”

  “Well—no, not yet. But she will when she gets bigger. Her mommy catches lots of mice. I always see her taking one to her babies,” Rena went on, her pale blue eyes full of the immensity of her knowledge.

  Emily’s hand moved from the kitten to the head of the child. What a beautiful little thing she would be if she had dainty hair ribbons and prettier clothes, thought Emily, and immediately checked herself. Mrs. Travis was doing all she could for her little family. It was impossible for her to do more under her trying circumstances.

  Timmie came over and lifted the kitten from Rena’s arms.“I should take her back,” he explained softly to his sister.“She might be hungry again.” Then he turned to Emily.“There are three others at the barn if you’d like to choose one.” Then he added hurriedly, “They have to grow for a couple more weeks, and then they’ll be ready to eat from a dish.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Emily promised with a warm smile. She did have plenty of milk from Mrs. Reilly—and if the kitten would be a good mouser, she might be worth her keep at the parsonage. Emily would enjoy the company, without doubt.

  Winter came softly to the land. Emily had retire
d one night with feathery flakes drifting slowly down from the heavens and awoke the next morning to a world of white. It was a beautiful sight, the morning sun making the whole drab world outside Emily’s kitchen window one glorious wonderland.

  Midafternoon it began to snow again and continued on throughout the evening and into the night. By the next morning Emily had eight inches of fluffy snow on her walks. It was Sunday, and Emily did not want her little congregation struggling through the new snowfall to reach her church door.

  As she swept vigorously with her kitchen broom, a voice from behind her said, “Hi! Need some help?” It was Nicky, Sophie’s oldest.

  “Mom spotted ya,” he said with a grin.“She said ya won’t get nowhere with that.” He pointed at the broom in her hands.

  Emily smiled.“It’s all I have. Hadn’t even thought to prepare myself with a shovel.”

  “I’ve got one,” said Nicky, holding a battered but serviceable shovel out for Emily to see.“I’ll shovel and you sweep behind me.”

  Emily thought it was a good plan. They worked as a team, their breath puffing out before them in little silvery clouds.

  “Look,” called Nicky, “I’m a dragon.”

  Emily shared in his laughter.

  In the weeks ahead, winter was no longer kind to the folks of the town and community of Wesson Creek. Emily watched the snow become deeper and deeper in the piles beside her walk. Each time she shovelled more onto the pile, she thanked the Lord for His answer to her prayer for a shovel of her own. One day, quite unexpectedly, she had spotted a handle protruding from the snow by the backyard fence. Emily tugged and pulled until a shovel made an appearance. She hadn’t noticed it earlier in the year because she didn’t need it. She couldn’t help but say “Thank you, Lord!” right then and there. But then she took a closer look. The handle was broken. It had been put back together, but the patching too had cracked.

  At first Emily had felt keen disappointment, but then she brightened at a sudden idea. Maybe for a few of her precious coins, she could buy a new handle. She would pay a visit to the store next door.

  Big John McMann stood behind the counter. Emily didn’t dread seeing him as much as she had in the past. He was still gruff and curt and still plagued her with jests and testing each time that they did business, but Emily sensed a softening in his demeanor.