Where Courage Calls: A When Calls the Heart Novel

by Janette Oke

For the first time since arriving in town, Beth had difficulty concentrating on Philip’s sermon. She found herself dwelling instead on what she would like to include in the conversation she planned to have with Julie after Sunday dinner. She tried not to be too embarrassed that Philip would meet Julie dressed as she was. It was a shame, since Beth had been so looking forward to presenting her sister to her new community.

  But Sunday dinner turned out to be a special event planned by Molly to introduce Julie to as many of the townsfolk as possible. The generous woman had gone to unusual lengths to organize a potluck meal to be held at the company hall. With great effort, Beth controlled her emotions through all of the repeated introductions.

  “Philip, I’d like you to meet my younger sister, Miss Julie Thatcher. And Julie, this is Pastor Philip Davidson.”

  Philip took her hand congenially. “So nice to meet you, Miss Thatcher. I know that Beth has been very enthusiastic about your visit. I’m sure you have a great deal of catching up to do.”

  “I enjoyed your sermon so much,” Julie enthused. “Not nearly as stuffy and academic as those we have at home. It was a breath of fresh air. Really.”

  Philip smiled and asked, “And how long will your visit last? I hope you’ll be able to make good use of the time together.”

  “Yes, we have two full weeks together,” Beth answered for her sister. “It will be so nice to have an extended visit.”

  “To be sure.”

  Beth felt her knees turn weak when she noticed Jarrick approach. What on earth might Julie say to him?

  “Julie, may I present Constable Jack Thornton,” she said, hoping the formal wording might keep Julie in check. Jarrick’s eyebrows lifted slightly. For some reason she had not been willing to share his given name, the one she had chosen to use.

  “Welcome, Miss Thatcher,” he offered cheerfully. “I trust you’ve been made to feel at home.”

  Beth held her breath while a coy smile from Julie answered his inquiry. “It’s not much like home, but I’m glad to be with Bethie again. And it’s awfully nice to meet an officer of the law so far from civilization. I’m sure you have stories to tell, do you not?”

  Jarrick cleared his throat. “I suppose I do, Miss Thatcher. But I’m afraid it’s our policy to keep most of those stories classified.”

  Julie refused to be put off. “Come now, Officer Jack. I’m sure there must be some interesting goings-on nearby. A few horse thieves, perhaps? A band of outlaws? It simply can’t be all miners and farmers, now, can it?” There was a twinkle in Julie’s eyes that Beth found alarming. She turned to Jarrick, watching for his reaction.

  “I’m afraid I couldn’t say.” He smiled and nodded just a little to soften his remark. “It was so nice to meet you, Miss Thatcher.” Something in the way he avoided her questions caused Beth to wonder what it was that did consume his hours of work.

  Julie, however, seemed puzzled by the man’s rather unaffected reaction to her—nothing at all like the attention she was used to receiving from the young men back home.

  Having made the rounds and managing a few quick bites of food between conversations, Beth and Julie had finally retreated to their seats when Addison and Luela Coolidge took to the stage and signaled for everyone’s attention. To Beth’s surprise, there was to be a short performance by the children.

  She was delighted, watching Julie’s expressions from the corner of her eye as her beloved students sang an amusing rendition of “Billy Boy” and presented a short skit. Surely, she thought, Julie would quickly understand what delightful, precious children she had been given to teach. However, she was shocked to hear Julie whisper, “Oh dear, Bethie, have they no better clothes to wear? Most of them are worn through and don’t fit properly at all.” And then she added, “Poor little waifs,” as if the afterthought removed the sting from her comments. Beth cringed. How can Julie so entirely miss their endearing faces?

  In preparation for the next song, Frank took the stage and quickly tuned his violin. Five of the girls stood before them in a row, fidgeting until he was ready. Beth recognized the tune in just the first few notes of the introduction, one of her favorites. “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” the girls sang in lovely harmony, blending beautifully with the strings. Beth felt she had never heard anything sweeter and once again found herself clapping heartily. This time Julie seemed pleased, but her gaze was on Frank and his violin rather than the children.

  At the end Beth stood and expressed their thanks to the full room, and the sisters retired to Molly’s home again, changing out of their church clothes into simpler garments. Beth had every intention of confronting Julie immediately about her attitude and conduct, but she did not want to dispel the goodwill created by the welcome they had received at church. They spent the afternoon enjoying each other’s company.

  As supper approached they heard Molly’s voice call up the stairs, “Frank’s here, girls.”

  Beth rose quickly and motioned to Julie. “Good. You can talk to him now. I want you to get to know him.”

  “Who’s Frank again?”

  “The violinist—the one who played today.”

  “Oh.” Julie rose to follow. “He was really good—better than some musicians I’ve heard in concert back home. Who would have thought I’d hear such lovely music from an old coot like that?”

  Beth froze, her hand on the door handle. She drew a deep breath and turned back toward Julie. “Please don’t ever talk like that about Frank Russo again. If you knew him at all—if you could get off your high horse long enough to see who he is—you’d truly be ashamed of yourself.”

  It was Julie’s turn to recoil. “Don’t be such a stuffed shirt. It’s not as if he can hear me.”

  “I can hear you, and that’s enough.” Beth took another step forward. She whispered tersely, “I won’t hear you speak against anyone in this town, Julie. You are not better than they. In fact, I’ve been more embarrassed to be seen with you than I ever was of them. You have acted like an unabashed snob.”

  Julie’s lip began to quiver. “How can you say that? I’ve been . . . I’ve been congenial, even friendly.”

  Beth shook her head, trying to find the words to explain the difference to her sister, who clearly could not comprehend how her actions were perceived. “Don’t treat them any differently than any of Mother and Father’s friends. They’re just as dear to me as any guests ever brought to our home. In fact, more—many of them are practically family.”

  “I’m your family,” Julie said with a sniff. “And you’ve never talked to me like this before.”

  “Maybe I’ve never seen you as clearly before.” Beth took a breath, trying to stifle her own anger. “I’ve learned that these people are more than what they appear on the outside—and much more difficult to assess than their surroundings would imply. Please, please try to view them with an open mind. I think you’ll be surprised if you do—most of them are as agreeable, as interesting and cordial, as any of our friends and family back home.”

  The two sisters stared at each other. Then Beth went over to Julie and embraced her. “I’m sorry to have sounded cross, darling, but I had to get your attention . . . get you in another frame of mind as quickly as possible. These two weeks can be a truly wonderful and memorable experience for both of us if you can open your mind to another world from that in which we grew up.”

  Julie sniffed again and shakily whispered, “I’ll try, Bethie.”

  Beth and Julie spent a lovely evening with Molly and Frank. Beth smiled in pleasure as she watched these two she had come to appreciate and love looking so comfortable together. Molly was still checking on how well his leg was healing and managed to find a reason to send home more food. Beth remembered what she’d said to Julie about family and knew how much it rang true when observing the older couple. In all the world, she felt they were in her circle of very favorite people.

  Julie retired early again, leaving Beth to share the cleanup with Molly. Beth dutifully scraped the plates
and stacked them beside the sink. Molly poured a second kettle of hot water into the basin, and Beth began the process of washing.

  “I feel I should apologize about Julie,” she began.

  Molly smiled but queried, “What ya mean?”

  “Well, she’s rather . . . childish, spoiled I think. I hope she hasn’t hurt anyone’s feelings with her silly talk and vanity.”

  “Words can only get at a body if ya believe ’em.”

  Beth paused, hands still in the water. “Certainly, but even if you don’t take someone seriously, the words still sting.”

  “Oh? How’s that?” Molly reached for another bowl to dry.

  “If I called you a name, it wouldn’t hurt?”

  “Depends. Were ya intent on being mean? Or jest by accident?”

  “Hmm,” Beth contemplated, thinking back to the times she had been teased. “Let’s say I found it amusing.”

  “Then it ought’a roll right off. I might jes’ laugh right along with ya. ’Course, ya also have ta ask, is it true? If it is, maybe a body should take it to account.” Molly put an arm around Beth’s shoulders affectionately. “I know she’s a bit rough ’round the edges, dearie, but we ain’t none of us fit fer glory yet. Gotta let God do His job. An’ it ain’t the rest’a us she’s gotta please—only Him.”

  Beth couldn’t help but chuckle at “rough around the edges” applied to her finishing-school sister and imagine Julie’s response to such a description. Then she sobered and tried to process the full meaning of Molly’s counsel. “Well, at least she should try a little harder.”

  “Now, dearie, ya gotta take care. That word should, it’s a slip’ry one. Who gets ta measure shoulds? Only God gets ta say. If He says ya should, then ya mind Him. If folks say ya should—ya jest go back an’ ask God. Don’t need more’n that to measure up to.” She smiled to herself and reached for the next plate. “Good thing ’bout gitting old—ya don’t think near so much ’bout what folks think of ya—what they say ya should do. Ya spend more time wond’rin’ what you still can do. Wish I could go back over my own life and not bother with all the silly things folks said I should. Sure woulda made life more simple—less confusin’.”

  CHAPTER

  23

  JULIE WAS BETH’S SHADOW for the remainder of the week. She took a seat in the center of the parlor sofa while children rolled yarn all around her, sat next to the window in the pool hall while Beth taught school, helped as best she could in the kitchen, and observed both English classes and Bible club in quiet amazement. It seemed to come as a sobering realization that Beth was working much harder, with more creativity and energy, than Julie had ever envisioned.

  On Saturday a happy respite occurred when Jarrick returned for a visit and took the sisters riding in his car. Beth had seen little of the local countryside from such a vantage point and was pleased to explore it with Julie and Jarrick. However, the fact that Beth had introduced him to her sister as Jack provided an added complication. She now had no idea how to refer to him when they were together. Out of sheer stubbornness she called him nothing at all during the entire day.

  Beth was surprised at the little off-road trails Jarrick had found, winding in and out among the hills, and even more flabbergasted at the kinds of terrain over which he was willing to drive his automobile. “Are you sure we aren’t lost?” she teased.

  “I’ve been in and out of here before. There’s a beautiful small stream just ahead with a beaver dam that makes its own little waterfall. Thought you would enjoy it. If we’re lucky, we might even get to see one of the beavers at work.”

  Though they did not have the pleasure of watching the beavers, the two young women did enjoy the falls. Julie even produced a camera and took delight in snapping a couple of photographs. Beth found herself blushing as Julie insisted upon a picture of Jarrick and Beth sitting on a large rock beside the stream. She had wished to object, but making a fuss about it seemed worse than just going ahead with Julie’s instructions.

  Jarrick seemed especially keen on studying the surrounding hills with his heavy-duty binoculars. “Looking for bears?” Julie had asked, sounding like she might really be worried.

  Jarrick laughed. “Well, you can never tell what you might find in this expanse of wood.” He let the ladies also have a look, and Beth could not believe how close it brought everything, vistas she knew to be a good distance away.

  Jarrick produced a picnic lunch which he had arranged for with Molly. It was delightful to sit under the sweeping trees waking from their long winter nap and listen to the birds busy among the branches, making plans for nest building. The water from the beaver dam filled in the harmony for the birds’ songs. Beth wanted to lean back, close her eyes, and be lost in the day. At the same time, listening to the lively conversation between Jarrick and Julie made Beth determined not to miss a thing.

  When Jarrick dropped them off at the boarding house, Julie hurried in to brush away some of the day’s soil from her new shoes. For a moment before Jarrick departed, Beth lingered at the gate.

  “Your sister is . . . nice,” Jarrick offered, standing beside the driver’s door.

  Beth smiled and turned her head self-consciously. “She really is, you know. She’s got a very sweet heart, even though I’m afraid we’ve all spoiled her terribly. I didn’t realize how much until this visit.”

  “Regardless, I enjoyed our drive. It was a perfect day with two fine young Thatcher ladies.”

  Beth dipped her head. “I enjoyed myself too. Thank you so much for taking us, Jarrick.”

  He laughed. “Oh, so I’m Jarrick again?”

  She had hoped he hadn’t noticed. “I only— Well, I just didn’t have your permission to . . .” She sighed. “All the others call you Jack,” she finished weakly.

  “Yes, they do. You—and my mother—are the only ones who seem to prefer my given name. But I’ll admit that I do like to hear you use it. At any rate, I’m pleased to have shared the day with you.” And then he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into his car, “Have a nice evening, Bethie.”

  Beth felt her face flush, and she couldn’t help a little smile at his use of the nickname. She turned back toward the house. Only then did she notice Julie watching through the window and was grateful her sister could not have overheard.

  Sunday afternoon a picnic had been planned for the children of their church. Philip was providing candy as prizes for the games, and the townsfolk were to organize and manage it all. Beth and Julie offered to assist with the three-legged races. For most of the afternoon they watched the other games, cheering along the youngest children and laughing at the antics of all. Beth was pleased to see that Paolo and his father were among the crowd as well as several of the other miners. They were interacting well with the townsfolk, chatting—not easily, but congenially—smiles flashing affably.

  Beth filled her plate from the selections of potluck dishes at the crowded serving table and took a seat on one of the makeshift benches, enjoying the peaceful moment to observe interactions around her. She heard a disturbance coming from between the buildings just behind her. Beth turned to see Addison with his small brother, Wilton, who was doubled over and appeared to be retching into the bushes.

  Mothers converged from all directions. Beth reached the boys first, placing a hand on Wilton’s back and bending down to look into his ashen face. She turned back toward the older brother. “What happened, Addison? Is it something he ate?” As more and more gathered around them, the confusion made it difficult for Beth to hear his answer.

  “No . . . I . . . I don’t really—” Just then Wilton’s knees buckled and he slumped to the ground. Hands reached out for him from every direction. Addison begged, “Oh, Willie—you okay? I’m awful sorry! Don’t cry.”

  Wilton shook his head, even in his pitiful state insisting defiantly, “I ain’t cryin’!”

  “Good boy.” But Addison’s expression was full of uncertainty and fear.

  Despite the crowd, Jarrick was
able to lift Wilton up and carry him toward one of the nearby tables. All the dishes were whisked out of the way to clear it for the limp boy. “You’re going to be just fine, buster,” Jarrick encouraged him, tucking a towel beneath his head and peering closely into his eyes. He chatted on as he assessed the boy. “You’re a brave fella. Now, Willie, did you eat anything unusual—anything strange? Berries from the woods? Or some kind of mushroom you found?”

  Without an answer, the eyes became unfocused, then closed. Jarrick leaned over him. In panic Beth watched him sniff into Wilton’s gaping mouth. He turned away to quickly search the bushes where Wilton had been discovered. The mothers crowded around Beth, waiting beside the table, all murmuring conjectures about the little boy’s condition.

  Addison hovered over his brother and stroked his forehead. Almost at once Jarrick returned. He drew the boys’ mother, Heidi, away and motioned for Beth to follow. “I’m not a doctor, but I’m quite certain this is serious. He needs to be taken to the hospital in Lethbridge right away.”

  Heidi’s eyes grew wide with fear. “How’m I s’posed to git him there?” Before Jarrick could answer she cried out, “What’s wrong with ’im? Do ya think ya know?”

  Jarrick drew in a long breath. “It looks like some kind of poisoning to me. I have a car. We’ll give him as much milk as he can hold and take him into the city right now.”

  “Ain’t no milk!” she nearly screamed.

  “Then water,” Jarrick insisted.

  “But my babies,” she wailed. “I can’t leave my babies.” Heidi’s eyes jumped from the sick boy on the table to the two smaller children clutching at her skirt and the infant bawling in her arms, then locked on Jarrick’s face.

  “I’ve got to have someone ride with me, in case . . .” He let the words hang unfinished.

  Beth was quick to volunteer. “I’ll go.”

  “Thank you, Beth. I’ll bring the car.” Grabbing up a bowl as he passed by a table, Jarrick unceremoniously tossed its luncheon contents underneath. “Take this, Beth. If we’re lucky, he’ll vomit some more.”