by Irene Brand
“Jim Hanson hoped H & H could operate here again next year.”
Sheila shook her head. “Not much chance of that. Mason is between a rock and a hard place. He’ll have to sell.”
Sheila’s words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. To Norah, it seemed as though every time she began to think of a possible future with Mason, something happened to ruin it.
Chapter Thirteen
With the final week of the therapeutic project under way, Norah didn’t have time to keep up with Mason’s tornado damage. He didn’t come to the Bar 8, and they had only a few conversations by phone. She avoided Louis as much as possible.
On Thursday night, when Mason came for the campfire meeting, Jim Hanson asked to speak to him after the children were housed in the dormitory. Norah invited them into the house for their conference.
Jim and Mason sat at one of the tables in the dining room. Norah made a pot of coffee and placed it between them. While they talked, she put away the picnic utensils, and from the gist of their conversation, she was sure she wouldn’t be using them again.
“This summer’s project has been so successful,” Jim said, “that the board of directors wanted me to find out if we can continue using the Bar 8 for our program. Instead of three months, they want to plan a six months’ program next year, extending the program to adults with disabilities. They’ll need an answer within the next few weeks.”
“I can give you the answer now,” Mason said. “I plan to sell the Bar 8 if I can find a buyer. The Realtor is advertising it again next week.”
“That’s really disappointing to us, Mr. King.”
“It’s a disappointment to me, too. I liked having you here, but I can’t afford to keep the Bar 8. It’s never been a good investment, and I’ve used income from the Flying K to pay the mortgage on this place. If it hadn’t been for the tornado, I might have held on a little longer, but I don’t have enough insurance to cover the cost of rebuilding my barn. I have to sell.”
Jim shook hands with him. “I do understand, Mr. King, but it’s been a great setup for us, even if it hasn’t been for you. Thanks very much.”
After Jim left, Norah went into the dining room where Mason sat, turning his coffee cup round and round on the tabletop, staring at the floor. She sat across from him.
“I feel lower than a snake,” he said. “After seeing how the therapeutic program has benefited these kids, I want to help them. But my back is to the wall, and I have to sell the Bar 8 or lose the Flying K. That’s my ancestral heritage—I can’t risk losing it.”
Norah reached across the table and took one of his hands. “God knows you want to help, and He understands why you can’t. You’ve already sacrificed one summer for the H & H. Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not the only thing that worries me. What are you going to do? Will you be leaving?”
Norah left the table and walked to the window, staring out into the darkness.
“I don’t know what to do. I had thought this summer’s activity was a perfect setting to receive an insight into what my future should be. If anything, I’m more unsettled now than I was before I left Missouri.”
“Are you going to accept Masters’s proposal?”
“Do you think I should?”
Mason hadn’t mentioned again his impulsive marriage proposal on the day of the tornado. How could he answer such a question? Mason wanted to shout “No,” but in all fairness to Norah, he didn’t think he should influence her decision. If God had called Norah to the mission field, he wouldn’t stand in her way. But how could he stand aside and let her marry anyone other than himself? Still, with his current financial problems, what did he have to offer her?
Mason cleared his throat, saying slowly, “It seems like a good way for you to fulfill your dream of being a missionary. Married to him, you could be on the mission field before Christmas.”
Norah’s heart plummeted, wishing that Mason was more like the mythical knight who grabbed his sweetheart, threw her over his saddle and rode away with her. If Mason would do that, she wouldn’t have to make the decision. But she could understand why Mason was leaving the decision up to her.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Then you’re going to marry him?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Norah said, as if she hadn’t been fretting about it for weeks.
Louis stayed on after breakfast the next morning and asked to speak to Norah privately. Sheila hurried out of the kitchen.
Louis came close to Norah and held her hand. “I need my answer. I’ve been praying that it will be the answer I want.”
She walked away from him and faced him. “I have no answer, Louis. Since I’m not accepting your proposal wholeheartedly, I consider that a red flag to say no.”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he persisted. “I can’t understand your hesitation—you told me that you’ve wanted to be a missionary since you were a teenager. I’m giving you an opportunity to fulfill that dream. Your responsibilities end here today, and I can’t think of any other reason why you won’t accept me.”
Norah could think of a reason—a big six-foot-plus reason, but she couldn’t tell Louis she wanted to stay with Mason. Except for that impulsive proposal at the ranch on the day the tornado struck, he hadn’t given her any reason to think he wanted her. But regardless of her wish to be a missionary, and even if Mason didn’t renew his proposal, it would be making a mockery of marriage to marry a man she didn’t love.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Will you take another week to think it over and telephone me your answer? It’s a perfect setup for both of us. I need a companion, you need a way to the mission field. It’s an ideal situation.”
“I’ve always dreamed that I’d someday have a love-filled marriage—not one of convenience.”
Louis covered the space between them in a few seconds and took her in his arms. But she drew away when he bent to kiss her.
“Love will come, Norah. Love will follow.”
When her heart was untouched where he was concerned, she knew love would never follow with Louis. But she did agree to delay the decision.
“I’ll take another week to consider.”
Norah hadn’t had any anxiety attacks about darkness for weeks, but now that she knew she’d not be living here again, the house seemed very quiet that evening. She kept wishing Mason would telephone, but when he didn’t, she dialed his number about ten o’clock.
“Do you mind if I leave my things at the Bar 8 for a few days?” she said. “I know I’m no longer employed by you, but I want some time alone where no one knows me. I’ve made arrangements to go to Mahoney State Park near Omaha for a couple of days. I’ll be back Monday, hopefully, with all my questions answered.”
“I don’t have a buyer for the Bar 8 yet, so stay as long as you want to,” Mason said, wishing she could be there all the time.
Since the major vacation months had passed, Norah had looked forward to a quiet environment at the state park, but when she telephoned for reservations, she was surprised that the lodge was completely booked for the days she wanted to be there. However, as she spoke to the reservations clerk, a cancelation had just been made, and she was able to book a room. She assumed that senior citizens took advantage of the fall season to rest in the spacious lodge, visit the air force museum adjacent to the park and enjoy the natural beauty of the area.
Norah’s mind wasn’t on sightseeing. She wanted some solitude to sort out the conflicting thoughts that were destroying her peace of mind. She had to make some decisions.
On her drive from Valentine to Omaha, for her own safety on the highway, Norah determined to get her mind off the dilemma she faced. She felt a desperate need to hear God’s word, and since she couldn’t read the Bible and drive at the same time, she played a tape of the Bible. Asking God to lead her to a portion of the Bible to calm her inner turmoil, she settled on Psalm 145, which she repeated o
ver and over as she drove. Although she’d been a Christian for years, during the hours she was on the road, Norah learned many new insights into her relationship with God. When she fixed her mind on the greatness of God, everything else in her life faded into the background.
The psalmist had first of all praised God. “Every day I will praise You and extol Your name for ever and ever,” David had written. And certain other verses wended their way into Norah’s mind, words that she mentally stored up for future use. “The Lord is faithful to all His promises and loving toward all He has made.”
But the verse that encouraged Norah more than any other was, “The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who fear Him; He hears their cry and saves them.”
Norah asked God to forgive her for not trusting Him for leadership, and she believed sincerely that before this weekend was over, she’d have the answer to her vexing problem. As she parked at Mahoney, she walked into the lodge with a lighter heart than she’d had for months. God was in control of her life, and she’d made herself available to His leading.
Norah’s room was on the second floor, with a balcony that overlooked the Platte River Valley.
After she unpacked the few clothes she’d brought and laid out her toiletries, Norah sat on the balcony for over an hour hoping that in this quiet place, she’d receive some insight into the decision she should make. Although she prayed for guidance, she didn’t receive an answer. She seemed detached from her immediate problems and grew restless.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone, so Norah went into the dining room and bought a slice of pizza to take to her room. She flipped on the television while she ate, not really interested in any of the programs she watched. She couldn’t remember when she’d spent a more boring evening. She went to bed only to toss and turn most of the night. When morning came, she knew for her own peace of mind that she had to make a decision soon.
After a substantial breakfast, she spent the morning walking briskly along the trail that led to the Platte River. A few colorful leaves heralded the beginning of the autumn season, Norah’s favorite time of the year.
Contemplating the fact that she’d entered the autumn season of her life, Norah suddenly believed that even if she was in the mellow years, the most beautiful time of her life was yet to come. Were those years to be spent with Mason or Louis? She knew what she wanted, but this morning, as she enjoyed God’s creation and praised Him, she submitted her will to His.
Back at the lodge, she stopped at the snack bar to buy a sandwich and soda, which she took back to her room. She sat on the balcony, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon.
She had dallied long enough. This was decision time. Crunch time. She remembered the words of Joshua when he’d told the Hebrew people, “Why halt you between two opinions?” Surely God must be saying the same thing to her.
She had several decisions to make, and it was right that she be alone to make them, rather than in the Sand Hills, where thoughts of Mason were ever present.
Did God want her to be a missionary in a foreign country? If so, should she marry Louis Masters as a way of responding to God’s call? Should she marry a man she didn’t love? Or should she enroll in college and reach her goal the hard way—by four or five years of intensive study and preparation?
Those questions were difficult enough, but when she considered her feelings for Mason, she wondered if she’d misread God’s call. She loved Mason, but she wondered if he loved her, or was his interest in her just physical attraction? If he did ask her to marry him, was he doing so out of love or simply because he was lonely? She loved him, so should she marry him regardless of his reason for asking?
In her youth, when she’d been so disappointed that she had to stay home and take care of her family rather than go to the mission field, she’d gone to her pastor for counseling. She’d never forgotten one thing he’d said to her. “The light that shines the longest distance, shines the brightest at home.”
He’d explained to her that her concern for the lost in overseas countries, would enable her to see what needed to be done in her own home and community. She’d accepted his counsel to serve in the place God had placed her. And, except for rare moments of rebellion, she’d willingly done what she knew she should do.
Was it possible that God still wanted her to be a missionary in her own country? She’d felt spiritually fulfilled this summer volunteering with H & H, cooking for the children, helping them work with the horses and singing with Mason and the Johnsons to entertain the kids. She’d daydreamed about marrying Mason and continuing the work with H & H, thinking this would fulfill her missionary longings. She had been practically settled in her mind that she could continue to do such work and still be in God’s will, when Louis Masters came to the Bar 8.
But even if Louis hadn’t entered the picture, now that the tornado had made it necessary for Mason to sell the Bar 8, she wouldn’t be able to continue work with H & H. She couldn’t lull herself into believing that simply marrying Mason and living in the Sand Hills would in any way fulfill Christ’s command to His disciples to “go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”
Having submitted her will completely to God, Norah wasn’t as concerned about these questions as she had been yesterday, for she was convinced now that the answer would come. She showered, changed into dress slacks and a blouse, and made her way to the dining room. The lobby and entrance to the restaurant were overflowing with people, and the hubbub was deafening. She started to turn back, believing she’d never find a table, when the head waiter saw her hesitation. He motioned Norah forward and took her to a small table near a window where she would have a pleasant view.
“Most of the dining room has been reserved for a special party,” he explained, “but we have a few tables for our other guests. It may be a little noisy, but I hope you won’t mind. We’re closing the dining room at nine when they want to have a program, but you’ll have plenty of time for dinner.”
Pulling out a chair and seating her, he handed her a menu. “Do you want the buffet tonight?”
She shook her head. “Just a bowl of vegetable soup and salad. And a cup of hot tea after I’ve eaten.”
At least a hundred people had converged on the dining room about the time Norah’s soup was served. She concentrated on her food, but she couldn’t avoid awareness of the other guests as they gathered around the buffet line. The majority of them were of Native American descent.
When she realized she was the only guest other than the special party, Norah ate her food hurriedly. She was curious about the gathering, but she didn’t want to intrude on their festivities, so she decided to return to her room. She signaled the waitress and canceled her order for tea.
Her remark must have been overheard, for a distinguished-looking man approached her. “Ma’am, we apologize for ruining your dinner. I know we’re noisy, but this is a special occasion, and since you’re alone, why not join us? I’m Smith Eagleton. We’re honoring a woman who has served the Sioux nation for years. It would be our privilege to have you stay with us.”
He nodded toward a short, wizened, gray-haired woman, apparently the guest of honor.
Norah believed his invitation was sincere, and since she wanted to put off her personal decision a little longer, she agreed to stay. Smith Eagleton brought her a piece of cake and a cup of tea.
Apparently master of ceremonies for the evening, Smith soon stepped up on a platform and called the group to order.
“We’re here tonight to pay tribute to Emma Curtis, who came to the Sioux Reservation as a missionary schoolteacher sixty years ago. She’s had a tremendous impact on hundreds of Sioux children, setting our feet on the right path as she taught us our ABCs.”
The program continued as several men and women, who’d prospered in the business world, reported that
they owed their success to Miss Emma’s guidance. The shy little woman was finally brought to the platform where she was given a large album filled with letters from her former students.
The climax of the program came when Smith said, “Two years ago, Miss Emma retired from active teaching and went to live with her sister. Now her sister has died, and Miss Emma has no home. So, out of respect for Miss Emma and the life she dedicated to our people, we’ve established a foundation in her honor, the proceeds of which will pay her expenses to live in a retirement community of her choice. When the day comes that Miss Emma no longer needs the income, the money will be invested in a scholarship fund in her memory, the proceeds to help deserving Sioux youth attend college.”
Miss Emma was an agile octogenarian, and during the applause, she walked briskly to the podium and took the microphone from the emcee.
“What a fuss!” she said sternly in her best teacher’s voice. “I’ve a notion to make all of you stand in the corner.”
Loud laughter greeted her remark, but when she said quietly into the microphone, “That’s enough. Let me have your attention,” the group quieted down quickly. The teacher had spoken!
Clutching the large album, containing accolades from former students, in her fragile arms, Miss Emma gave a great smile. “Perhaps now’s the time to tell you that I came reluctantly to the reservation. For you see, I didn’t want to be a schoolteacher. I wanted to enter the convent, but my parents absolutely refused to let me become a nun. For years, it’s been a disappointment to me that I didn’t get to do what I believed God had called me to do. But as I look back over my life, I realize that God sent me where I was supposed to be. As your teacher, I’ve impacted many more lives than I would have reached in the cloister. And I have been happy.”
