Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  Grandmother tilted her head as a tear streaked down her cheek. “Well, let’s turn it around, then. When was the last time you felt safe around a man? When was the last time you felt cherished or loved?”

  Oh, she would ask those questions. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Katherine knew she had to be honest. “Father never made me feel loved or adored, I’m sad to say. He scared me. But I did know that he loved me. In my mind. In his way.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “And the last time I felt safe around a man would be five years ago. Jean-Michel Langelier. Do you remember him? He always made me feel beautiful and cherished. But he was also my best friend. He knew me better than anyone else.” Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry for all of the pain of the past, my dear girl, I truly am. But let’s focus on remembering that there was a man you felt safe with. Next time you find yourself in a situation that brings up all of the bad memories, why don’t you try to think of a positive time instead?”

  It was worth a try. She nodded.

  “But first and foremost, we will continue to bathe it in prayer.”

  “Yes, Grandmother. Please.”

  The older woman stood. “Now, if it’s all right with you, why don’t we freshen up and go down to dinner? I can request a small table for just the two of us.”

  Another nod. “I’d like that very much. I’m done hiding. At least for now.” She attempted a smile.

  “All right. I’ll come back in about five minutes.”

  After changing her clothes, Katherine washed her face and applied a little makeup to cover up the circles under her eyes. She was determined to make an attempt at being social. At least she knew she could spend the evening with her grandmother and not worry about making small talk with a bunch of strangers.

  But after a brief prayer together and the journey down the stairs, her stomach began to flip-flop. People were everywhere.

  Hiding was definitely easier. Maybe she should just stay holed up in her room for a while. No. That was the old Katherine talking. Lord, please help me. I am a new creation.

  Grandmother tugged on her elbow. “I won’t leave your side.”

  Katherine squared her shoulders. She could do this. With God’s help, she could. One breath at a time.

  Two gentlemen in suits and ties stood at the bottom of the stairs. As Katherine and her grandmother descended, the men started to move; then one stopped and turned toward her. “You are Senator Demarchis’s wife. We met at a party you gave.” He held out a hand. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Senator Wesley Jones from Washington State. It is a privilege to see you, and please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss.”

  She quashed the feeling to turn around and run away. There was no sense in causing a scene and shaming her grandmother. Katherine took the proffered hand and shook it as politely as she could, then quickly let go. But the shock of it all hit her in the face. No matter where she went, she’d always be Senator Demarchis’s widow. Even here. In remote Alaska. “Thank you.” She forced the words. His sympathies could be thrown out the window. Had Randall truly fooled the entire world? “How long are you in Alaska?”

  “Sadly, we leave in the morning. I’d heard you were here but hadn’t had the chance to speak with you yet.”

  Relief spread through her. At least this link to Randall would be gone. The man seemed nice enough, but she didn’t need another jaunt down memory lane. “Well, thankfully, we were able to meet before you head back.” It was a lie, but at the moment it was all Katherine could do to paste on a smile. “This is my grandmother, Maria Harrison.”

  “Pleasure.” The senator gave a small bow.

  “It was lovely to see you again, Mr. Jones.” Katherine nodded and began to walk away. She hoped Grandmother was behind her, because she had no intention of turning back. She could not bear a conversation where she even had to mention her deceased husband’s name, and she definitely didn’t want to talk to any men, much less shake their hands.

  At the entrance to the dining room, she stopped and took another deep breath. She focused on the beautifully set tables and stylish people. It appeared no expense had been spared to make this a luxurious dining experience.

  “Nicely done, Katherine. You did well.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother.” She continued to scan the room. “Now if I can just make it through—”

  A familiar face stopped her. His dark hair falling across his forehead as it had when they were younger. He stood and she could see his green eyes from the other side of the room. Eyes she would never forget. Eyes that once held so much love for her she’d vowed to follow him anywhere.

  “Jean-Michel . . .”

  “What are you waiting for?” Mrs. Johnson bellowed to the idle young woman. “Get this fish upstairs at once. Our guests are hungry and there’s plenty more to be delivered.” The maid nodded and hurried to pick up the tray.

  Cassidy felt sorry for the girl. She was new this season and hadn’t had that much experience with Mrs. Johnson’s manner. But rather than say anything about it, Cassidy focused on making whipped cream for the chocolate mousse they would serve later for dessert.

  Her thoughts had ever been on Collette Langelier and her concern about her brother. Cassidy had tried to share a bit of encouragement and what she hoped was godly counsel, but the young woman showed few signs of being comforted.

  “And what are you daydreaming about?” Mrs. Johnson asked, her tone softer than before.

  Cassidy shook her head. “Just one of the guests. She was unhappy and I tried to offer some encouragement.”

  “Well, if anyone could do it, it would be you.” Mrs. Johnson went to check one of the pots on the stove while the rest of the staff bustled back and forth to see to their stations.

  Cassidy finished whipping the cream and went to collect a tray of chilled mousse from the refrigerator. She piped the topping on each of the desserts with expert precision, then returned the tray to the refrigerator and brought out another.

  Mrs. Johnson chastised one of the girls for not properly buttering the tops of the rolls. Cassidy smiled to herself. Sometimes she thought if there was nothing to complain about and correct, Mrs. Johnson might very well lie down and die. The woman seemed to thrive on dictating demands, and yet Cassidy knew she could be such a dear.

  With the mousse properly topped in whipped cream, Cassidy turned her attention to cleaning up her station when she heard her name being called. She glanced up to find Allan standing near the door.

  She smiled and went to see what he needed. “You know Mrs. Johnson will have your hide for interrupting the kitchen during mealtime.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. We have an agreement.”

  Cassidy cocked her head to one side. “And would that agreement involve me?”

  “Of course.” He kissed her forehead. “You feel much too warm. I think it’s time for you to take a few moments outside to cool down.”

  “But there’s work to do.”

  “We can manage.” Mrs. Johnson’s words came from behind her. “Now do as your husband says.”

  Cassidy’s joy at seeing Allan quickly faded. “I won’t have the two of you playing nursemaid to me. I’m not sick or an invalid and I only fainted that one time. I feel perfectly fine and have far too much to do to go off walking about.”

  Allan looked at her with a raised brow. “You can walk . . . or I can carry you.”

  Mrs. Johnson chuckled, making Cassidy all the more frustrated. “You would think I was the first woman in the world to be in my condition.”

  Allan took hold of her arm. “You’re the first wife I’ve ever had in this condition, and I mean to take care of you. Besides, I’ve already cleared this with Mrs. Johnson.”

  Cassidy had been working hard to control her emotions, but tears came to her eyes unbidden. Truth be told, she was starting to feel rather warm. “Very well. Let’s go.”

  Once they were outside and away from the main building, Cassi
dy felt her anger ebb. She knew they only wanted the very best for her.

  Allan stopped and reached into his pocket. “Here. Blow your nose.” He handed her his handkerchief.

  “You make me feel like a child.” She took the cloth and wiped her eyes.

  He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face to meet his gaze. “That isn’t my intention. I just care about you—more than you know.” He planted a brief kiss on her lips. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

  This brought back Cassidy’s tears. “Oh, bother! I’m such a mess.”

  “But a beautiful one.” He grinned.

  “I don’t know why I think I can help anyone else when I can’t even figure out myself.”

  “What are you talking about now? Who did you try to help?”

  Cassidy dried her eyes again. “Collette Langelier. She’s worried about her brother. He was in some battle. It wasn’t the Great War, but he got that leg injury.”

  “Yes, I know. It was the Druze Revolt. He mentioned it briefly.”

  “Well, Collette said he has horrible nightmares, and she doesn’t know how to help him.”

  Allan shook his head. “I doubt she can. Some things only God can heal.”

  “She said he feels all this guilt about not saving people, but she doesn’t know the details.”

  “That’s a blessing.” Allan put his arm around Cassidy’s shoulder. “It’s best she not know. Otherwise, she’ll be having nightmares too. I can tell you from experience, war is a brutal and ugly thing. I pray you never have to see anything of it.”

  “So is there nothing I can say or do to help her?”

  “You can pray for them both, but especially for Jean-Michel. He’s troubled to be sure—maybe about more than just the war.”

  “Can’t you talk to him?” Cassidy looked up to find Allan gazing across the field.

  “If the man approaches me, of course.” He glanced back down at her. “It needs to be his idea—his desire to share what happened. You can’t force those memories out of a man. Until he’s ready to talk—it’s best we just pray.”

  Cassidy nodded. “I will definitely continue to do that.” She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  Allan gave her a questioning look. “For what?”

  “Caring about me. Enduring my moods and my temper.” She turned and put her arms around him. “I think my stomach has doubled in size. Soon I’ll be too fat to do this.”

  He laughed and scooped her up into his arms. “When that happens, then I shall just do this.”

  Cassidy laughed and held on tight. If only she could always feel this happy and help everyone around her feel the same.

  12

  For weeks, Jean-Michel had watched and waited for this moment. To be honest, he’d been waiting for years to see her face again.

  He grabbed his cane and walked across the crowded dining room.

  Katherine.

  His Katherine.

  His friend and confidante. His first and only love. She was here.

  He heard Collette’s voice behind him, but he was drawn forward. Conversations and silverware clinking on plates surrounded him as he walked, but none of it mattered.

  The head waiter gestured with his arm and appeared to be about to seat the two ladies at a table off by themselves when he noticed Jean-Michel’s approach and gave him an odd expression. “Good evening, sir.”

  “Good evening.” Jean-Michel couldn’t take his eyes off Katherine’s now that he was close to her.

  The waiter cleared his throat. “Do you know the senator’s wife?” The starched-uniformed man tilted his head.

  “I do indeed.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Collette’s voice behind him shocked him out of his stare.

  The waiter raised both eyebrows. “Would you like for me to find a table that would accommodate the whole party, sir?”

  “No, that’s not necessary.” Jean-Michel shook his head, although he would have loved nothing more than to share the evening with Katherine. However, considering the scared look in Katherine’s eyes, he knew it was the right decision. It was best not to overwhelm her, even though every instinct within him was crying out to spend every moment with her. “Katherine—excuse me, Mrs. Demarchis—please allow me to introduce you to my sister, Collette Langelier.”

  The dazed look left Katherine’s eyes as she looked over at Collette. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from . . . your brother. Let me introduce you to my grandmother, Mrs. Maria Harrison.”

  Collette nodded politely. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  “You remember Grandmother, don’t you?” Katherine looked at Jean-Michel.

  He nodded at Maria Harrison. The woman behind their trip to Alaska gave away nothing. So he decided to keep his mouth shut as well. But the twinkle in her eye told him she was pleased. And his message had been received. He was here for Katherine. “I do. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Harrison.”

  “And you, my dear boy. It’s been some time. Five years, I think, since we last saw each other. I believe it was at a dance.”

  “Oui. Yes.”

  “Katherine and I have already run into others we’ve known. On one of our tours we found ourselves in the company of the Whitmores, and they live just down the street from me. I thought it all very strange to go hundreds of miles away only to have dinner with my neighbors.”

  “It is a small world sometimes.”

  “Very small,” Katherine murmured.

  As much as Jean-Michel longed to remain in her company, he gave a little bow. “Don’t let us keep you from your dinner, we must be getting back to ours as well. It is quite delicious. We had the fish.” He nodded to the two ladies, turned, and walked back to their table.

  Once he had seated Collette again, he took his own chair and tried not to look at Katherine each second. It took every ounce of determination he had.

  “So that senator’s wife—” Collette began.

  “Widow,” he corrected. Probably a bit too abruptly.

  “All right, that senator’s widow . . . is Katherine. The Katherine you wanted to marry all those years ago?”

  He nodded and cut another bite of salmon, using every bit of his energy to appear normal.

  “Sensationnel. Je n’en avais aucune idée.” She sat back in her chair in a stunned manner.

  Instead of correcting her to speak English, Jean-Michel was relieved the other patrons didn’t understand her words. They’d already drawn enough attention. He was quite shocked himself and knew his sister had no idea that they’d ever run into Katherine. Besides, he didn’t have Mrs. Harrison’s permission to share their secret.

  He couldn’t look up at Collette. Or at Katherine. Too afraid his feelings would be obvious. Instead, he focused on his plate and his glass of water.

  “Lâche.”

  “Excuse me?” Jean-Michel lifted his gaze to see his sister’s smirk.

  “I believe the Americans like to use the phrase . . . ‘scaredy cat’?” She giggled. “You’ve attacked your plate with gusto—never once looking up. I know you. And don’t look now, but she’s watched you the entire time.”

  Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Collette was correct. He was afraid. Scared of messing it all up—of saying the wrong thing. He used his linen napkin to wipe his mouth and then set it on the table. “I’m finished. Are you ready to go up?”

  “Not a chance.” She set her napkin down as well. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

  “Of course.” He stood and offered her his arm.

  As they exited the dining room, Jean-Michel looked over at Katherine and smiled. Her eyes had lost the fearful look but now had a guarded appearance. How could he change that?

  How could he help her?

  The thoughts tumbled over one another in his mind as they walked on a trail behind the hotel to the river, his sister taking slower steps as she stayed at his side. One day, he
wanted to venture across the suspension bridge, but he was waiting for his leg to strengthen a bit more.

  At the edge of the river, Collette finally stopped and spoke. “I know I’m your little sister and you’ve tried to protect me from all the ugliness you faced. But I know about your nightmares, Jean-Michel. I’ve been in your room almost every night after you cry out to try to help you calm down. I feared you might awaken the other guests.”

  He opened his mouth to question her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Please, let me finish. I know I’ve been selfish and childish and I’m still very young in your eyes. But seeing you suffer has changed me. I want to help. And with everything in me, I believe that beautiful woman in there can help too. Am I correct?”

  He shook his head and walked closer to the water. “There’s so much you don’t know, Collette.” He sighed. “I am crippled and war-torn now. A lot has happened to both of us over the past five years.”

  “But you love her . . . I can see it on your face.”

  The water flowed by and he kicked a rock into it. Dare he admit it? “Yes. I love her. As much as I ever did before.”

  “Then you must do whatever you can to win her over. She’s a widow and free to love again. Maybe she never stopped loving you to begin with.” Collette smiled. “I believe love can do wonders to heal a person.”

  Jean-Michel looked at her and shook his head. “And what would you know of love?”

  She shrugged. “Enough to know it has the power to change a person—to change everything.”

  Grandmother paced the floor, this time in Katherine’s room. “So you refuse to talk about it?”

  Katherine pulled the brush through her long hair. So many of the other women were cutting their hair, but she’d kept hers long all because Jean-Michel had told her years ago that he loved her long hair. “No, I’m not saying that I refuse to talk about it. I just don’t know what to think or feel. That was quite a surprise.”

  “I understand the shock, my dear. I do. But did you see his face? He still cares for you.”