Where Courage Calls: A When Calls the Heart Novel

by Janette Oke

  Beth managed a crooked smile and shook her head. If Julie indeed shares all those details with Mother, if all the difficulties of living in Coal Valley are laid out in candid array—without Julie understanding and articulating the reasons for such to be endured—Mother will not simply overlook it. Julie’s list will be enough for Mother’s level of concern to rise. Beth was grateful, at least, that her sister knew nothing of Beth’s greatest worries.

  “Julie,” she began carefully. “You needn’t share all about it—don’t you think?”

  A sparkling laugh, with Julie fully enjoying the power she possessed.

  Beth felt her temper rising. “I’m not teasing about this! This is extremely important to me.”

  Just then the train whistled to alert its passengers. Julie stood and began to gather her bags as if their conversation had not been interrupted by her impending departure. Beth scooped up the items remaining and hurried after her sister. “Julie,” she called anxiously, “please wait.”

  Already the porter was taking Julie’s bags. Beth passed along what she had been carrying and the bundles disappeared up the stairs into the train’s vestibule. “Julie,” she commanded, drawing in a deep breath. “Julie, please don’t tease just now. I would very much appreciate some assurance that—”

  “Bethie,” Julie said, reaching out a hand to grasp Beth’s, clearly savoring the tension. “I’m your sister. Whyever would I do you harm?”

  Beth tried hard to believe the coaxing eyes. But there was an alarming mix of emotions concealed within them—such playfulness, such pity, such pleasure. “It’s my life, Julie, my calling at stake. Much of it resting on what you say to Mother—don’t you understand?”

  Julie raised herself up onto the first step, the porter motioning her along impatiently. She paused. “Dear sister,” she called out over the clatter of the engine, “surely you’ll find it in your heart to trust me.”

  Beth hoped with all her heart that Julie’s words proved true. If Mother ever knew about the need for police intervention in their little town, of a child being poisoned, and worst of all, that she had been accosted in the woods, she would have no hope of returning. And if anything had happened to Julie during her visit, then Mother . . . With a sigh, Beth was grateful that Julie was safely on her way home again.

  CHAPTER

  25

  NOW THAT JULIE WAS HEADING HOME, much of Beth’s attention was centered on her own return east, and all too soon. She needed the last weeks of school for review and preparation for the exams the older students would write, and simple testing that would evaluate the progress of each of the younger ones. Copies of the results would be submitted to the provincial school board, given to the mothers, and also entrusted to Frances, who had offered to hold them and make them available should another teacher arrive in the fall. If there would be “another teacher,” Beth hoped whoever it was would benefit from having a written assessment of each child’s development.

  For the most part Beth was pleased with the students’ progress, but two of the older students gave her grave concerns about the upcoming exams. She was grateful, though, that all of them were reading on a far more proficient level than had been the case upon her arrival. She had remained committed to that primary purpose, and she was pleased to see the results of their hard work together. Beth spent an inordinate amount of time each evening preparing the materials needed for the final school days.

  Philip shared their table on Sunday, as well as five of the company men. Through the conversation going on around her, Beth gathered that there were plans in the works to open a new spur in the mine. With the increased activity, several more miners were being sought.

  Philip frowned and questioned the officials, “Where will they be housed?” Beth knew what concerned him. The miners were already crowded.

  “Some of the houses in town will be vacated soon. The company already sent notices to three of the widows.”

  Beth gasped, then tried to cover it. But Philip probed further. “And what will happen to the families who live there?”

  “That is not the company’s affair. I believe in those cases there was already a debt owed at the company store, so their pensions were used up sooner. They will have to make other arrangements.”

  Beth felt herself wince. She was certain if there had been other possibilities available to them, the mothers gladly would have used them long ago, leaving Coal Valley before their pensions were depleted. She glanced toward Philip but remained silent rather than voice her concerns.

  As she gathered the plates after dinner, Beth approached Molly uneasily. “Did you know?” she whispered.

  “Yep.”

  “Do you know who?”

  “Yep.”

  “How long?”

  “Diff’rent fer each.”

  Beth sighed. “I suppose it was bound to happen. But I wish there was something we could do about it.”

  “Gotta be faced, one way or t’other, dearie. Everyone knowed it was jest a matter of time.”

  Beth curled up in the parlor that evening, intending to read a new book Philip had loaned to her. Her mind, however, refused to concentrate. A walk, even considering the muck outdoors after strong spring rains, would be most beneficial at the moment.

  Pulling on her boots and wrapping herself in her coat, Beth plunged out into the fading sunshine and struck out in the direction of Frank’s cabin. Only a short ways, and surely this direction offers safety, she assured herself. Frank would be home, and perhaps would enjoy a visit. At any rate, it would still be a walk.

  A loud group of men was gathered on Frank’s porch. Beth stopped midstep, wondering whether she should approach. Something about the demeanor of the men made her freeze in place. They sounded angry.

  The words were foreign, but the faces left no doubt there was serious trouble afoot. Beth took a step back and hesitated. Just then she recognized Alberto’s voice shouting something she could not understand. It was enough to send Beth hurrying back along the path toward Molly’s house. She prayed with every step that no one would be hurt and no lasting damage done. But she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused such turbulence.

  Beth immediately reported what she had seen to Molly. Much to her surprise, Molly seemed untroubled.

  “They bin all worked up before. Doubt it’s nothing Frank can’t handle.”

  “Are you sure? Even Alberto was angry and shouting.”

  “Ain’t got no police ’round today. Can’t do nothing myself. Guess we’ll jest wait an’ see. But as fer me, I trust old Frank.”

  Beth did a fair share of pacing the floor while waiting for Frank to appear for their customary evening of games and music. It seemed an excruciatingly long time before he arrived, whistling and cheerful.

  Beth met him at the door. “I . . . I was at your cabin this afternoon. I heard the men yelling. Is everything all right?”

  He paused a moment, then looked past her into the house. “Do not’a worry. Just a little disagreement, eh? But now—it’sa okay.”

  Beth eyed him with some apprehension. There were beginning to be far too many mysteries around. Beth could feel her stomach tighten. “Please, Frank. I’ve been so anxious. Can’t you tell me what happened? At least enough to set my mind at ease.”

  He motioned her to follow him outside and rubbed at his stubbly face. “Okay, the men they had’a some trouble. But it’sa good now. One’a the boys, he was accused of’a drinking. Berto, he found out, and we had’a meeting.” Frank paused. “Maybe that’s all you need’a to know, eh?”

  “Drinking?” Beth felt a chill pass through her. “Who? Where?” She couldn’t get past the image of a very ill Wilton.

  Frank sighed his resignation. “The boy—he was’a not drinking. It was a mistake—you see?”

  Beth did not understand at all. Tears were blurring her vision. She was too desperate about her children to keep quiet any longer. “Frank, I need to confide in you. I don’t know where else to turn. The day tha
t Wilton got sick—”

  “I know, Miss Beth. I know.” Frank reached a hand to grasp her arm. “It was on account’a the liquor.”

  “You know?” Beth gasped. “Did you see Wilton with it? How did you ever figure it out?”

  “No, it was’a Jack Thornton—he tol’ me.”

  “But . . . but do you know why? He made me promise not to tell anyone—not even Molly.”

  Frank’s voice grew increasingly strained as he answered, “You must’a trust me, Miss Beth. There are reasons for’a to keep it quiet just now. Please. I would never hurt’a you. You know that, eh?”

  Beth’s heart pounded in her chest. She leaned closer to Frank, tipping her face as close to his ear as she could, and lowered her voice. “Frank, I have to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else. I think it might be Davie Grant.” She watched him stiffen. “He . . . he found me in the woods one day. He threatened that if I didn’t stay away from there . . . well, he told me he wanted me to leave town. He said all the miners should leave too, and the widows.”

  “Miss Beth,” Frank said, his brow furrowed as he looked into her face, “did’a he hurt you?”

  “No, no,” Beth was quick to assure him. “But I’ve been frightened ever since. I have no idea if he has anything to do with the alcohol that seems to be around—I can’t help but suspect him, though. Oh, Frank, what can we do?”

  Frank put a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Beth, I’ma gonna tell you something—something you can’a not tell nobody else. Jack, he knows about Davie—has known a long, long time. But he has to catch him with it so he can’a make the arrest. You see?” He paused as if determining what all he could say. “The boy at my house today—he was’a not drinking, but he was’a trying to buy. Jack, he asked the boy to do it, just so we can’a catch that evil man, an’ bring’a him to justice far away from here.”

  Beth was astounded. She had never guessed that so much criminal activity was happening around her. She doubted that any of the townswomen would suspect—even Molly seemed completely unaware.

  “Miss Beth, you can’a not tell nobody—and you must not get involved. You must’a wait—even if that’sa the hardest thing to do.”

  Startled awake, Beth sat up in her bed. The bedroom was completely dark, not a sound that she could detect. There seemed to be no reason for such an abrupt awakening, except for the worries that were consuming her. The children—the town—the dreadful drink—the dangerous men. These thoughts seemed to have invaded even her sleeping mind.

  Now alert, she lay back and turned several thoughts over again to explore their implications. Davie seemed to be the center of it all, yet there was nothing specific to connect him to it. She wondered what was missing from the picture. Then slowly bits of memories began to return—small moments that had meant nothing at the time. As each flashed into her mind, she became more agitated.

  The man in the rain I saw through the window—he had moved around the corner of Davie’s home. What if he was not an intruder—but Davie himself? And when I first came here, the wooded path where Marnie showed such fear—it was close to where Davie later found me alone. . . .

  A shock pulsed through Beth’s body. What does Marnie know? Why would she have refused to set foot in that direction? Once Beth’s mind had begun to wrestle with Marnie’s possible connections, her thoughts spun to Teddy. What of the mysterious “he” to whom Teddy had referred in the hallway? And what was it Marnie had said—that the boy was in trouble? With Davie? Were Teddy and Marnie somehow involved? An audible groan escaped Beth’s lips, and she sat bolt upright in bed.

  Her mind was whirling more quickly now. There was that moment in the path with Addison when Teddy had seemed to know—or at least to know of—the man by the boat, yet he had not wanted Addison to go near him. Was the man a smuggler? Had Teddy ever been involved with such men?

  By the time it occurred to Beth to wonder where exactly Wilton had come into possession of the lethal liquor, she was very worried—and then convinced—that Addison too somehow had become embroiled. What else could possibly be revealed?

  In another flash of memory she saw Jarrick peering across the mountainside with binoculars. For what was he searching—even while picnicking and sightseeing? And Frank—on the day by Colette’s grave where I saw a cave in the distance, he gave a warning about certain places in the woods that were unsafe for walking. And for what reason had Jarrick been so frequently in the vicinity, but for his need to investigate further? It seemed that all her memories were converging—things she had not for a moment considered related. By this time, Beth was pacing anxiously back and forth across her room.

  Beth lay back against her pillow, but sleep had fled for the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER

  26

  DAWN ARRIVED AT LAST. Beth had spent those wakeful hours scribbling her thoughts on a piece of paper, turning and retracing each memory until it took clearer shape. And slowly, ever so slowly, she began to determine what to do next—despite Frank’s warning merely to wait.

  Teddy was easy to locate in the woodshed behind the house. He seemed surprised to see Beth appear out of the cool morning mist, but he greeted her warmly as usual, then asked, “Miss Thatcher, why ya up so early?”

  “I need to speak with you, Teddy. Please sit down.”

  His eyes grew wide, but he sank onto the chopping block and laid the ax on the ground beside him.

  “Teddy, I need you to tell me the truth. And I want you to believe that you can trust me with exactly that—with the absolute truth. Do you understand? I am not here because you’re in trouble. I’m here because I think you need help to get out of it.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “I know about Mr. Grant’s business,” Beth said, looking him straight in the eye. “I need you to tell me the rest.”

  Instantly, his head dropped to his chest, and he refused to meet her gaze.

  “Teddy Boy, please believe me, I want nothing—absolutely nothing—but to help you find a way out of the mess.” Beth crouched down before him and placed a hand on his knee, shaking it gently. Tears were already streaming down his face as he lifted his eyes to hers. “Please, Teddy, for Marnie’s sake—and for Wilton—please, please tell me what you know.”

  “I didn’t want to do it. I jest couldn’t find a way to make ’em stop,” he said through sobs.

  “Do what?”

  He wiped the back of his hand across his dripping nose. “The men. The ones my daddy use ta work for. They made me do it—when he couldn’t no more ’cause he was dead.”

  “Oh, my dear boy!”

  Now that he had begun, the tale seemed to rush out all at once. “My daddy, he use ta pass the stuff along—so’s nobody would know where it come from. And when he died they said they’d give me money if I’d do it, ’stead of him. But I said no, Miss Thatcher—I really did.” He briefly raised his pleading eyes.

  “I believe you, Teddy. I do.” Beth pressed her handkerchief into his hand.

  “But when I wouldn’t, they started in sayin’ what they’d do to Marnie. I couldn’t let ’em—I had to do whatever they said.” He gulped back another sob. “All I did—all I did was pick it up at a place in the woods, and then I’d leave it by the boat downstream. I don’t know what else happened to it. I don’t know who took it from there or nothin’ else.”

  “Do you have any idea how it came to be in Wilton’s hands? Think, Teddy. It’s so important we know.”

  He covered his face with his hands, muffling his words. “Addison found one of the bottles I left hid in the woods. He thought it was a joke—took it to his fort, laughed about drinkin’ it someday. I couldn’t tell him ’bout what I knew. . . . Then Willie found it. It wasn’t s’posed to happen like that.” He sobbed into his hands.

  Beth pressed further, “Do you know who made it?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Grant did. But he’ll kill me if he ever finds out I told—an’ Marnie too. Maybe Molly—”

 
“No, he will not,” Beth assured him. “We will go to Jarrick—Mr. Thornton. He’s going to keep you safe.”

  A flash of fear. “No, ma’am. I can’t. I can’t. What about Marnie?”

  Anger and purpose crowded out Beth’s own fear. “This is what you will do,” she said firmly. “Finish chopping the wood, then go to your room. When Jarrick arrives—and I think he will be here very soon—I want you to let him take you with him. If he is worried about Marnie too, he’ll take her along. He’ll keep you safe. He already knows most of what you told me.”

  “He does?”

  “As I understand it, Teddy, there are many who are striving to put a stop to all this. And I assure you they will all work tirelessly to keep you safe. Nobody—and I mean nobody—is going to bring you harm. They’ll have to go through me first . . . and Mr. Thornton, and . . . well, I can’t tell you exactly who else. But it’s a whole team of people who love you very much and will stand between you and any danger that might come.”

  His gaze said he was anxious to believe the things Beth was saying.

  “And, Teddy darling,” she whispered, a smile flickering on her face, “Miss Molly doesn’t even know yet. Can you just imagine what she’ll do when she finds out somebody has been mistreating you and Marnie? I just don’t even want to imagine!”

  “Yeah,” he said, returning a feeble grin. “I wouldn’t wanna cross her.”

  Beth loaded her arms with the piles of wood as Teddy chopped them and together they quickly filled the bin in the kitchen, even before Molly made a first appearance for the day. Then Beth shooed the boy up to his room and warned him to stay put.

  As quickly as she could, Beth wrote a short note to Jarrick, explaining what she had been told. She folded it and tucked it deep inside her sleeve. Then she descended the stairs and stood in the center of the foyer, uncertain of how she would get the note to him.

  Peering through the curtain on the front door, she noted a car parked before the house. For a moment she was puzzled, and then she heard Nick Costa at the dining room table. He must have come late in the evening—or very early this morning. Her mind began to whirl once again. He came in a car. Why does Nick always come by car? The others, the company men, they come and go by train. Almost always by train.