Along Unfamiliar Paths

by Amy Rognlie

She fled from his office, convinced that her tongue would get her in trouble if she lingered one more second. That is one person I certainly won’t miss, Raine thought uncharitably as she climbed the stairs to her room, unsure if she were referring to Papa or Mr. Duncan. Her conscience pricked her. And aren’t you a sweet one today, she thought uncomfortably.

  ❧

  Three days later she looked up from her desk to see Ben grinning at her from the back of the classroom. Startled, she dropped her eyes back down to the tests she was grading. What was he doing here?

  “All right, children. You may open your readers now. We will begin on page forty-two.” She sincerely hoped she had remembered to powder her nose before class. If not, it was surely shining like one of those electric light bulbs she had heard about. “James, start reading aloud please.”

  She went to greet her visitor. “Ben. How nice to see you.” All at once there didn’t seem to be enough air to breathe.

  “And you.” He was silent then, leaning against the doorjamb comfortably. He studied her face like it was the morning newspaper. It made her nervous.

  “Can I help you?” The same words she used the first time they met. She felt herself color.

  A smile crept into his eyes and twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I just came by to see if we could have supper together this evening, say, around six o’clock? I need go over the details of the voyage with you.”

  “Oh yes, the voyage.” He wasn’t staring at her nose, was he?

  “You haven’t changed your mind?”

  “No. I, ah. . .” Raine noticed her students had stopped reading and were gawking. “Six o’clock would be fine.”

  His parting smile was enough to turn the rest of her day upside down.

  ❧

  “You’re going to supper with the captain of the ship?” Charlotte’s brown eyes were huge. “Is he the one who brought you the locket from Paul?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Raine answered around a mouthful of hairpins.

  “Tsk, tsk. What would Paul say?”

  “There.” Raine stuck the last pin in and tilted her head to see the side of her hair. “Paul wouldn’t say anything. It’s just a business meeting.”

  “Ah.” Charlotte nodded. “Then why are you taking so many pains?”

  Raine glared at her friend as she fastened the lacy guimpe around her neck. “Speaking of pains. . .”

  Charlotte laughed. “All right, I’ll leave you alone. But do I at least get to meet him?”

  ❧

  “Ben, this is my good friend, Charlotte Denoire. Charlotte, Captain Ben Thackeray.” Raine rolled her eyes as Charlotte curtsied. She noticed her friend had added a bit of extra lip rouge for the occasion.

  “A pleasure I’m sure, Miss Denoire.” Ben bent over her outstretched hand for the briefest second. He turned to Raine. “Shall we?”

  She smiled up at him as he took her arm, the glint of humor in his eye doing wonders for her disposition.

  Big Ben was booming out the hour of seven by the time they reached the Golden Cross Hotel.

  “Oh, I’ve always wanted to eat here.” Her mouth began to water at the aromas wafting from the famous establishment.

  He smiled at her. “Are you hungry?”

  “As a horse.”

  Ben laughed out loud.

  ❧

  El Paso County, Colorado

  Tom Cox sat astride his panting mount, surveying with pride the land spread before him. He absently rubbed the scar on his left cheek as he gazed with appreciation at the majestic Rocky Mountains looming blue and mysterious in the distance. Though it appeared one could reach the cool shade of the Rockies in a matter of minutes, he knew from experience that the ride was long and dusty. Wistfully, he turned once again to the east, shielding his dark eyes from the glare of the newly-risen sun.

  He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. The bit of Scripture came unbidden to his mind as he gazed upon the gently rolling plains and grazing cattle that comprised the Crooked P Ranch. Frowning in annoyance at his train of thought, he urged the patient mare forward.

  “Come on, Trixie. Let’s go home.” Slouching comfortably in the saddle, he let the horse pick her way home through the sagebrush as he reflected on the past couple of years. The young Denver City had been more progressive than he had expected it to be, but the “Queen City of the Plains” nonetheless still carried with it the unmistakable influences of the wild west. Everywhere he looked were Stetson hats and cowboy boots; feed stores and saloons shared the street with banks and lawyer’s offices.

  Glad that he was going to be some distance from the city’s hustle and bustle, Tom had wasted no time in obtaining a horse. Riding southward past Colorado Springs to the land he had purchased sight-unseen, he was awestruck by the wild beauty of the land, grateful that he had chosen this place to start anew. Now, three years later, the Crooked P Ranch was prospering.

  Trixie picked up her pace as they passed the bunkhouse and neared the stable. Her rider dismounted with a troubled sigh. He had made a home in this untamed, yet peaceful land. His ranch was prospering, but his soul was not. There remained a chapter in his life he could not close. . .

  two

  Up since three a.m., Raine was awaiting Ben’s arrival, feeling much the same as she did the morning of her first day of school. The stillness of the gray, pre-dawn hours contrasted sharply with the butterflies dancing in her midsection.

  As she made her way downstairs, no one else in the Mission stirred; she had said all of her good-byes yesterday. The surprise party for the children had gone so well. She knew she would never forget the joy in their eyes as they opened the tiny gifts she had managed to get for each one. Nor would she forget the arms wrapped around her neck and the shy kisses placed on her cheek. It was harder than she had thought to be leaving them, and she wasn’t even gone yet! Equally hard was ignoring the tiny pricks of guilt she felt when she thought of her decision to leave without telling Papa good-bye.

  After peering out the window yet again, she dropped down in the straight-backed chair in the Mission’s front parlor. Her Bible was lying on top of her carpetbag. She picked it up and began to read until a soft knock on the door alerted her to Ben’s arrival.

  “Good morning!” His eyes studied her face, and she was sure he saw the excitement that radiated from her heart.

  “Good morning to you!”

  She saw his gaze drop to her mouth for the briefest instant before he said firmly, “We’d better get going.” His tone was tight as he gathered her luggage and directed her out the front door.

  She glanced at him as he preceded her, carrying her trunk. Had she done something wrong, for him to become so brusque all the sudden? Or perhaps he was regretting taking her along? “Ben.”

  He looked up from loading her baggage into the carriage.

  “Are you sure you want to take me to Boston?” she ventured in a small voice.

  “Of course I want you to go,” he said a little too heartily. “Don’t mind me. I’ve got a lot on my mind this morning.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

  Raine frowned, studying his face, but her thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind her.

  “Raine! I’m so glad I caught you before you left!” A sleepy-eyed Charlotte came flying down the front steps, her mousy hair still in braids.

  Raine smiled at her friend. “I haven’t even left yet, and you miss me so much already?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Oh, you know what I mean.” Charlotte reached behind her back and pressed a soft package into Raine’s hand. “I’ll miss you, Raine.”

  Tears filled Raine’s eyes. “I’ll miss you, too, Char. I’ll pray for you.”

  “And I you.”

  They gazed at one another. “Don’t forget to write to me, Charlotte.”

  “Maybe I’ll come and join you in America sometime.”

  “I’ll look for the day.”

  With a last hug, they said good-bye and Raine climbed into the carriage. Although tears still
clouded her vision, Raine’s anticipation grew as she caught glimpses of the waterfront through the early morning fog. Sensing Ben’s reticence, she had refrained from chattering on the short drive, but now she couldn’t help it.

  “The Capernaum is so much larger than I expected,” she commented, gazing at the huge ship.

  “Yes, she’s a hefty one,” Ben replied, following Raine’s gaze. “There’s no telling how many storms she’s weathered, but she hums along like it was her maiden voyage,” he added proudly.

  The lonely cries of gulls and a damp, fishy smell assailed her senses as Ben assisted her out of the carriage. There seemed to be barrels and crates everywhere, not to mention the baggage of the passengers and crew. Ben gave her his arm and they waded through what seemed to be mountains of rope to get to the gangway. Thank goodness bustles have gone out of fashion, she thought. It would have been almost impossible to dodge these barrels of pickled herring while wearing one of those ridiculous things.

  “Mornin’ Cap’n; Miss.” A bewhiskered sailor nodded to Ben and Raine, then leaned down to grasp Raine’s small trunk.

  Looking up at Ben, Raine said lightly, “Shall I call you ‘sir’ from now on, now that I’m on your ship?”

  “No,” he said. “You’re not a part of the crew, you’re. . .a friend,” he finished, his blue gaze holding her captive.

  Raine stared back at him, seeing him as if for the first time. She clasped her hands together behind her back, quelling an unexpected desire to run her fingers through his golden brown hair.

  “Miss.”

  Raine jumped. The grizzled sailor was holding her last bag, studying her with a curious expression. “Are you ready to go aboard?”

  “Ah. . .yes. That would be fine.” She turned. “I’ll be seeing you later, Captain?”

  “Yes, perhaps tomorrow, Miss Thomas.” He hated his formal tone, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Sully here will get you settled in and answer any questions you might have.”

  I’m sure Sully can answer any question I have except the question of why you act so strangely sometimes, Ben Thackeray, she thought, still shaken by the intensity of his gaze. Obediently following the patient Sully, she turned to wave to Ben, but he was gone.

  ❧

  Settled at last in her small but adequate cabin, Raine took in a breath of cool air that was blowing in through the open porthole. The butterflies in her stomach had settled down to a slow waltz.

  She opened the small package from Charlotte, shaking her head as she read the note that accompanied the hand-embroidered pillowcase set.

  Dear Raine,

  These are for your new home in America. I hope you’ll remember me when you see them and pray that God sends me as handsome a man as He sent you.

  Love and prayers,

  Charlotte

  Poor Char. She was only biding her time until a handsome prince came to sweep her off her feet. To her, teaching was just a way of making a living. To Raine, it was a life’s calling.

  Feeling her throat tighten, she pushed thoughts of the children from her mind. God was leading her away from the Mission, and she would not allow herself to wallow in misery. Of course she would miss the children, but God had something better for her, didn’t He? He would have something better for the children too.

  Of course He would, she assured herself as she powdered her nose. God was definitely leading her forward, and all she had to do was follow, no matter how unfamiliar the way seemed. The first step would be to find Paul. That in itself would be a glorious thing. She brushed her teeth with enthusiasm, picturing the moment. First he would stare at her in disbelief. . .then he would open his arms. . .

  When she felt the ship lurch, she flew up to the top deck, not wanting to miss any of the action. After all, it was her first time out to sea. Watching with interest as the men worked to set the huge ship into motion, she could readily imagine Paul doing such work. She scanned the deck and was not surprised to see Ben working alongside his crew, clad in the clothes of a deckhand. He looked dashing.

  Finally, a cheer went up as the Capernaum slowly maneuvered her way out of the harbor. The voyage was underway! “I’m coming, Paul!” she whispered. A quick prayer of thanksgiving flowed from her heart as the gulls dipped and swooped their farewells. Hang on, love. I’m coming.

  ❧

  Ben was fuming. Angry with himself for giving in to his feelings, he was even angrier at Raine. How can she look at me like that when she’s engaged to Paul? He paced up and down in his spacious cabin. I never should have offered to let her come on this ship. I’ll just stay away from her as much as possible, then get her to Boston quickly, he vowed to himself.

  He soon realized that it was not going to be easy to avoid the lovely Raine Thomas. Having made arrangements for her and the six other paying passengers to take their meals with him and his officers, he knew he couldn’t shun her without drawing censure from the rest of the company.

  At dinner that night, he watched as she chatted away with the buxom woman next to her. What was her name? Oh, yes. Constance. Constance Rabinowicz.

  He compared the two woman unconsciously. Raine in her traveling suit of navy blue, with that charming hat to set it off. Constance with her overly large hat and even larger bustle. Turning his attention back to Raine, he was mesmerized by the sound of her low voice. She glanced up then and their eyes locked.

  “Who’s the girl?” His first mate followed Ben’s eyes.

  “Miss Thomas is the fiancée of a friend.”

  “Oh?” Griff’s eyebrows shot up. “He’d better marry her fast,” he said mischievously, watching his captain out of the corner of his eye.

  Ben glared at him. “Keep your observations to yourself, Griff.”

  ❧

  Ben stood at to the railing a few evenings later. Bowing his head, he stood gazing into the dark waters for a long time. He was so weary. Weary in body, yes; but had he only admitted it to himself, most of the weariness was in his soul. He was weary of his constant fight against fear, the fear of surrender.

  He was losing the battle. He had managed to stay away from Raine except when it was impossible to do so. Aware of the wistful look in her eyes, he knew she was puzzled by his behavior. Now with only a few days left before they arrived in New York, he had yielded to his longing to seek her out. Turning, he followed the path she’d taken toward her cabin.

  His hand poised to knock on her cabin door, he stopped as he heard her singing. At first impressed with her melodic voice, soon he was caught up in the words she was singing.

  “O the love that drew salvation’s plan!

  O the grace that brought it down to man!

  O the mighty gulf that God did span at Calvary!

  Mercy there was great, and grace was free;

  Pardon there was multiplied to me;

  There my burdened soul found liberty

  At Calvary.”

  Slow tears began to course unheeded down his face. God, how I long to know once again the peace that comes from accepting Your grace! He had seen that same peace reflected so often in Raine’s eyes. But how can I? his heart cried. To whom much is given, much is required. The fragment of Scripture that had been pounded into his mind as a child came back to hammer him once again. God, I’m so afraid. I’m afraid of what You will require of me. . .

  Ben turned to go, to run from the familiar words of Raine’s songs, but he could not run from the insistent, loving call of the Father. . .

  ❧

  The sunny June days slipped by as the Capernaum steamed steadily toward New York. Raine had brought a couple of books with her, planning on catching up on her reading. However, that was not to be.

  “Yoo hoo! Raine!”

  She sighed, wishing not for the first time that Constance Rabinowicz had chosen another ship on which to immigrate to America. She didn’t want to be unkind to the woman, but she did wish she could have just a few minutes of quiet to read. Maybe if she ignored her she would go away.
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  “Raine! Over here!” Constance increased her volume, further fortifying her presence by waving her handkerchief.

  As if I were a cow being shooed into the barn, Raine thought. Grudgingly placing the marker in the volume of Tennyson, she rose. “I’m coming, Constance.” She tried to wipe the frustration and annoyance from her face, but she couldn’t wipe it from her heart. Constance seemed to want to spend every minute chatting with her, eating up the quiet, peaceful hours with her constant prattle.

  She also had to resign herself to the fact that Ben was too busy to spend much time with her; he almost seemed to be avoiding her. Perhaps he’s just preoccupied, she thought. Disappointed that she hadn’t had a chance to talk with him more, she hoped they would have more time together on the trip from New York to Boston.

  That night at dinner, she felt his eyes on her as she finished the last of her plum pudding. Glancing at him, she was surprised that he didn’t look away, but held her gaze before turning to answer a question from one of the men. He looks more relaxed tonight, she thought as she studied him. Perhaps he’s glad that we’re almost to New York. She looked down at her plate. In truth, she too was glad that this leg of her journey was almost over. She was not accustomed to so much leisure time, and Constance was grating on her nerves. Besides, she was anxious to begin her search for Paul.

  “Excuse me, Miss Thomas. May I take your plate?” The cabin boy’s voice intruded on her thoughts. Glancing about, she realized almost everyone else had left the table, even Constance. Raine had heaved a sigh of relief earlier when she heard the older woman accept an invitation to play bridge with two of the other passengers. An evening to herself at last!

  She gathered her skirts and turned, only to come face to face with Ben. He smiled at her startled look. “Would you care to take a turn around the deck, Raine?”