Whispers from Yesterday

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  Sophia’s old heart fluttered, quickened by the question. “Yes, I do. I don’t just believe it. I know it.”

  “How can you know?”

  Father, give me the right words. She’s looking for You, whether she knows it or not.

  “How can I know?” she answered at last. “Well, I believe the Bible is the final authority on everything. It’s infallible, written by men as God directed them. It tells a story of God’s great love for us. So great a love that He sent His own son to die for us. To die for my sins so I could be reconciled with Him.”

  “I’ve heard the story. Christmas. Easter. All that stuff. But I’ve never known anyone who lived it the way you do.” Karen gave Sophia’s hand a squeeze, then rose from the bench. “I don’t think I ever could.”

  “I thought the same way at one time.”

  “You did?”

  “Mmm. I did.”

  A pregnant pause followed Sophia’s response, a pause that caused her to hope Karen would ask another question, give her a chance to say more. But it didn’t happen.

  Her granddaughter turned away. “Goodnight, Grandmother.”

  “Goodnight, Karen. Sleep well.”

  Tuesday, August 24, 1937 Dear Diary,

  My heart is filled with joy, I am with child. It explains why I was so miserably ill during the ocean crossing.

  Thank you, Father. Thank you for this most precious of gifts. My cup runneth over.

  Esther

  Thursday, September 9, 1937

  Dear Diary,

  Mama writes to tell me that Sophia has moved from home and is now living in Idaho where she has found employment doing clerical work. Mama says she has forwarded my letters to Sophia, but still I have received no replies. I fear she has thrown them away, unread.

  I will continue to write and hope and pray. I wish very much that I could share my wonderful news with her. I wish she could be with me when the baby is born in March.

  If my child is a girl, I will name her Sophia.

  Esther

  FOURTEEN

  Dusty felt a lightness in his heart such as he hadn’t felt before. He’d been a Christian for many years and had loved and served God to the best of his ability. But yesterday something wonderful had happened.

  Yesterday, he’d discovered he didn’t have to serve to the best of his ability; his own ability would never be enough. Now he understood he could serve to the best of God’s ability. And God’s ability—His power, His grace, His strength—was more than sufficient.

  Dusty spent his morning prayer time in praise and worship. He couldn’t think of a single thing to ask for, anything more that he needed.

  His joy must have been both evident and contagious, for all the boys were in good moods that morning. When they had breakfast in the main house, there was plenty of laughter and good-natured teasing.

  Dusty felt the curious glances of both Sophia and Karen. Later, he would find a moment to tell Sophia what had happened to him. Karen … He didn’t know what he would say to Karen.

  The phone rang, and Billy hopped up to answer it. “Hello?” After a moment’s pause, he turned toward the table. “It’s some guy asking for you, Miss Karen.”

  Her eyes widened. “For me?” She rose. “I wonder who it could be?”

  Dusty wondered the same thing as he watched her cross the room and take the handset from Billy.

  “Hello?” She listened, then grinned. “Mac!”

  Mac? Mac who?

  “Oh, I’m fine … I know I should have. I’m sorry … No, it isn’t anything like I expected …”

  Obviously it was someone from California. Someone special. Someone she cared about, judging by her smile and the tone of her voice.

  “I wish I could, Mac. I appreciate it … I miss you, too.”

  Dusty felt like grinding his teeth. Why was that? His eyes widened in surprise when the answer came: He was jealous!

  “Nobody could have done more.” She turned her back toward the table and lowered her voice. “You needn’t feel that way.”

  Just what did he have to be jealous about? It wasn’t as if he had romantic feelings for Karen. For Pete’s sake! He hadn’t even liked her at first.

  “That’s sweet of you,” she said softly.

  “Come on, guys.” Dusty stood. “We’re expected at the Echeverria place in a half hour.”

  “What’re we doin’ there?” Noah asked.

  “Repairing the roof of his barn.” His answer was followed by a trio of groans.

  “All right,” he overheard Karen say. “I promise, Mac. Thanks for calling … You, too. Bye.”

  He looked over his shoulder as she placed the handset in its cradle.

  When their gazes met, she smiled and said, “That was my friend, Mac Gleason.”

  Friend? Was that all? Or was it something more? Why had Mac called her? What had he wanted?

  “Where are you all going?” she asked, interrupting Dusty’s mental interrogation.

  “We’re fixing a barn at the Echeverria farm,” Billy answered. “Why don’t you come with us? You’d like to see the lambs they’ve got.”

  She looked at Dusty. “Would you mind?”

  “It wouldn’t be much fun for you. The day promises to be a scorcher, and there wouldn’t be much for you to do. You’d get bored.”

  “I can help carry lumber. Remember? I did it yesterday without breaking a single fingernail.” Her smile was mischievous, the twinkle in her eyes teasing. “Didn’t I?” Her smile vanished as quickly as it had come. “Unless you don’t want me there.”

  What he feared was that he wanted her there too much. Seeing Karen as a woman and not only as Sophia’s granddaughter was a complication he hadn’t expected and didn’t want.

  At least, he didn’t think he wanted it.

  “Dusty?”

  He gave his head a small shake to clear his thoughts, then turned toward the door. “You can come if you want. Be ready in twenty minutes.” He strode out of the kitchen.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Sophia said as Dusty disappeared through the doorway.

  Karen looked at Sophia.

  Her grandmother chuckled. “It seems you’ve done something no other woman has managed to do.”

  “What?”

  “Become a bur under Dusty’s saddle.” Karen couldn’t think of a reply.

  Sophia glanced at the three boys, each in turn. “I’ll do the dishes today, fellas. Get going. Miss Karen can help me fill the cooler for your lunch.”

  Chairs scraped the kitchen floor as Ted, Noah, and Billy rose from the table.

  As they left the house, Billy was heard asking the other two boys, “Did she mean Dusty wants to kiss Miss Karen?” Noah and Ted replied with laughter.

  Karen sank onto one of the vacated chairs, her gaze on her grandmother. “Is that what you meant?” “In a roundabout way, yes.”

  “Oh.” Elbows on the table, she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, dear.”

  “And what about you, Karen?”

  She lowered her hands. “We have absolutely nothing in common. Look at us. He’s lived this Spartan existence since he was sixteen or seventeen, and he likes it. I’m used to a totally different lifeindent. He’s a cowboy. I’m a city girl. He thinks a vacation is an afternoon at the swimming hole. I think it’s a month skiing in Saint-Moritz or a summer at a resort on the Cote d’Azur.” She raised her hands in a gesture of futility. “We’re just too different.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  She chose not to answer.

  Sophia’s expression was both gentle and patient. “The real difference, Karen, is one of faith—what Dusty believes about God and what you believe. If anything will separate the two of you, it’s that one. The other things, while they may seem important now, are actually quite trivial.”

  “Are they? All I wanted when I came here was a place to stay until I could get some money and return home. Or maybe a place to hide would be more truthful.”
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br />   Her grandmother nodded.

  “I never expected to start caring for him.”

  “One rarely does plan these things,” Sophia answered.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go with them. If he and I aren’t meant for each other, it would be a mistake to—”

  “Don’t hide from life, Karen. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  She lowered her gaze. So many things had happened in the past week. Too much to make sense of it all.

  “Go with them,” Sophia said as she rose from her chair. “Caring for someone else is worth the risk. Always.”

  “I asked Wendy to marry me,” Grant announced just as Dusty reached the top of the ladder leaning against the Echeverria barn.

  “You did?” Despite himself, Dusty’s gaze dropped to the barnyard where Karen and Billy were unloading bundles of shingles from the back of an ancient two-ton truck.

  “Yeah. The time was right. So I popped the question, and she said yes.”

  Dusty hadn’t given much thought to marriage over the years. He’d had girlfriends, of course, but friends were all they’d turned out to be. Eventually, each one had drifted into other relationships. Most were married by now.

  Married and happy, with kids of their own.

  He watched as Karen set the bundle of shingles near the others she’d helped unload. She placed her fingers against the small of her spine and arched backward. After she straightened again, she wiped the perspiration from her brow with her forearm.

  Marriage?

  A wife? Kids? For him?

  No. Maybe the time was right for Grant, but it wasn’t for Dusty. The Golden T Youth Camp was barely getting by as it was. And even if he was looking for a wife—which he wasn’t—Karen would definitely be the wrong woman to fill the bill.

  He glanced at Grant. “When’s the wedding date?”

  “We decided on Thanksgiving Day. She’s got quite a few relatives coming in for the holiday, and we thought we should take advantage of it.”

  “A wedding and turkey with dressing.” He grinned. “Good planning.”

  Grant laughed as he offered Dusty a hand up onto the roof. “I was hoping you’d agree to be my best man.”

  “You know I’ll do it.” Once again, his gaze drifted downward.

  “Hey, are you thinking what I think you are?”

  Am I? He shrugged, frowned, then shook his head. “No.”

  “Okay. I can take a hint. I won’t ask anything more.”

  They set to work, but Dusty found himself pausing after a short while to look in Karen’s direction.

  She was pretty. He’d always been aware of that. And despite a lot of negative first impressions, he’d found plenty to like about her during the past month. The way she treated Sophia for one. The way she responded to Billy for another.

  But she wasn’t a fellow believer, and the “be not unequally yoked” advice hadn’t been included in God’s Word without a reason. In his years as a Christian, he’d seen the problems caused when people went against that basic principle.

  But if she was seeking the truth, wasn’t that …?

  No, he’d been right the first time. This wasn’t the time for him to be thinking about things like love and marriage. After all, it was only yesterday God had set him free so he could serve Him even better than before.

  Wednesday, November 24, 1937

  Dear Diary,

  Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. It is not a Danish holiday, but Mikkel, Grandfather Fritz, and I shall celebrate it in our home. Our dinner will be nothing like the one Mikkel shared with my family a year ago, for many of those food items are not readily available in Denmark. But that doesn’t matter. We have much to be thankful for, and that is why we will gather together.

  We have invited our neighbors to join us. Mr. and Mrs. Abrams are a young Jewish couple with two small children. Mikkel has formed a friendship with Isaac Abrams, and I hope to do the same with his wife, Hannah.

  I do miss having a good friend. Another woman with whom I can share my hopes and dreams, my uncertainties and disappointments. Mikkel has tried valiantly to fill the void left by Sophia, but there are some things even he cannot do.

  Esther

  Monday, December 13, 1937

  Dear Diary,

  Mikkel had a dream last night, and he remains deeply troubled by it. He fears war is on the horizon. Grandfather Fritz says the dream was caused by nothing more than indigestion from the large piece of pie Mikkel ate before going to bed.

  Mikkel closed himself in his study for the better part of the day, and I know he was in prayer much of that time. I prefer to believe Grandfather Fritz is right.

  I am beginning to be very round with child. I feel the baby moving and am warmed by the knowledge of what God has created.

  Esther

  FIFTEEN

  Dusty’s heart nearly stopped beating the day the sheriff’s car came up the drive, trailed by a cloud of dust.

  “Wait here,” he said to the three boys who were helping him stack firewood against the south side of the house. If the sheriff’s deputy was bringing bad news about Hal, Dusty wanted to hear it alone first, then break it to the others in the right way.

  The deputy, Colin Reilly, unfolded his gangly, six-foot-seven-inch frame and stood beside the black-and-white car. He squinted against the bright midday sun as Dusty strode toward him. “Afternoon.”

  Dusty nodded his return greeting.

  Colin wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. “They found Miss Butler’s car in Portland, what’s left of it. It’s been stripped.”

  “And Hal?”

  “No sign of him. They think he abandoned the car because it quit running, although they can’t be sure there wasn’t foul play.” Colin tipped his hat slightly back on his head. “Has he got friends over that way?”

  “Not that I know of. He grew up in this area, shuffled between different family members about every four to six months. I doubt any of them would know either.”

  “Yeah, we haven’t had much help from any of the Junkers.”

  “Has Hal tried to contact the girl? Patty Call?”

  “No, and we’d know if he did. Mr. Call would make sure of that.” Colin shook his head. “He’s a hard, unforgiving man.”

  Dusty glanced toward the house, then back again. “Want to come inside out of this heat?”

  “No. Can’t stay. Just wanted to give you the news in person.” He tugged on his hat brim. “Miss Butler will need to decide what she wants done with what’s left of the vehicle.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  The deputy got into the sheriff’s car, started the engine, and with a wave out the window drove away.

  Dusty watched until Colin reached the highway, then turned toward the house. By that time, Karen was approaching.

  “Is it Hal?” she asked. “Have they found him?”

  “No, but they found your car.”

  “Where?”

  “In Portland.”

  “He made it that far?” She stopped before him. “I didn’t think the Mustang had that many miles left in it.” “The kid’s good with engines.”

  “Dusty?” Her voice lowered. “Is Hal going to be all right?” “I don’t know. I pray he will.”

  “I wish I believed your prayers would make a difference.” Worry was etched in her pretty features, an earnest concern for someone other than herself.

  Dusty wondered if she was aware how much she’d changed in the weeks she’d been at the ranch.

  Or how much she’d changed him.

  Impulsively, he reached out, taking hold of her hand and squeezing with his fingers. “Prayer makes a difference, Karen. Just not always in the way we expect.”

  Her glance fell to their joined hands.

  He was tempted to step closer, to brush the loose tendril of hair from her temple, maybe to kiss her neck below her ear. She looked up.

  The air was hot, still, and unbroken by sound.

  “Do you know why I came here,
Dusty?” She withdrew her hand and took a step backward. “I thought a ranch meant money, and I figured, since my grandmother was so old, that I could hang around until she died and then inherit it, sell it, and go back to L.A. That was all I wanted.”

  “And what do you want now?”

  There was a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” She spun on her heel and strode away.

  As he watched her go, Dusty recalled a verse from that morning’s Bible reading: “ ‘For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.’”

  He felt comforted by the words. He had plenty of reasons to hope in the future because God already had plans for him. Good plans. Plans for his welfare and not for calamity.

  He didn’t know for certain what would happen with this ranch, with Hal, with Karen. He didn’t have a vision of the future. He didn’t have a detailed blueprint of what tomorrow would bring. He didn’t need one.

  He had God’s promises instead.

  I never should have told him why I came here, Karen silently berated herself. Why did I tell Dusty the truth about myself?

  She skirted the house, going instead into Sophia’s garden. She followed the dirt-and-stone path that wound through the flowers and shrubs and trees, a garden that was watered and tended with loving care by an old woman. The vegetable patch was planted to provide food for the table, but the rest was there for pleasure, a feast for the eyes and the soul.

  Karen felt in need of that feast now.

  I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what I want.

  California seemed far away. Not in miles, although it certainly was that. No, it was something much more than physical distance she felt.

  What’s happened to me?

  Nothing made any sense. The despair that had once driven her to attempt to take her own life was gone, yet she remained confused and longing for answers. Was her confusion only because of this attraction she felt for Dusty Stoddard?

  Of course. That had to be it. Falling for Dusty would confuse any normal, cosmopolitan woman of her generation.