Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  He held out his arm for her.

  As they strolled out of the hotel, she noticed his gait was stronger now—his limp less pronounced than it had been when she’d first seen him again. The thought thrilled her that he had been able to gain some of the strength back in his leg. His cane thumped a gentle rhythm on the train platform.

  He led her down a path to a very pretty field of brilliant dark pink flowers. “They call this fire weed, and I think it’s beautiful.” Jean-Michel stopped and turned toward her. “But not nearly as beautiful as you, mon amour.”

  The compliment made her blush. “Thank you.”

  His face turned serious. “I need to tell you so many things, but this is difficult, so please give me some time.”

  “Of course.” She sat on a bench positioned perfectly to see the flowers and the river and hoped she could keep her stomach from turning itself inside out. “I have quite a bit I would like to tell you as well. But please, go first.”

  He sat next to her but kept his face to the river. “Katherine, I have loved you for so long. But I know how imperfect I am. I am not whole. I always thought it was you who would make me whole, but I know now that it was God I needed. My father found God before he died, and he wrote Collette and me letters urging us to find Him for ourselves. I was angry at everything that happened during the war and didn’t think I needed God. But I was wrong.”

  Silence covered them for several moments, and Katherine watched the profile of his face.

  “Collette began to understand God when she rescued little Davey. Can you imagine? She had a six-year-old teaching her where her older brother could not.” He shook his head. “But I am happy for her. I’m also very pleased you have turned to Him as well. I must admit I was angered at first by your note when you left to go north. But I am stubborn. And God had His work cut out for Him.

  “I feel like a changed man already, but you know . . . you witnessed . . .” A deep breath and his shoulders sagged a bit. “You’ve seen the depth of my anguish in reliving these nightmares. It isn’t pretty, and I am so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about them before. Can you ever forgive me, Katherine? I never . . . never wish to hurt you.” He rubbed the thigh of his injured leg as she’d often seen him do. “But I can’t promise I won’t have those nightmares again or how I will react to them. I can only pray and leave it in the Almighty’s hands.”

  She reached out and stilled his nervous action. Intertwining their fingers, she rested their hands in her lap. A sigh escaped Jean-Michel’s lips.

  “I will love and cherish you for the rest of my days, but I come to you as a damaged man. And you need to know the difficulties.” Jean-Michel turned toward her, his green eyes piercing her very heart. “Can you give me another chance?”

  She rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb. “Of course I will. But just as you are damaged, so am I.” Looking away, Katherine knew she’d never make it through if she stared into his eyes. “You already know that Randall was cruel to me. It wasn’t just with his words. He . . . beat me as well. Sometimes—quite severely.”

  “I wish I could take away that pain. I would never hurt you—”

  “I know that. I do.” She bit her lip. “As much as I long for us to build our relationship again, Jean-Michel, there’s something very important I need to tell you. It’s not easy for me to say.” Deep breaths . . . she could get through this. And what Cassidy said earlier might also be true. She had to cling to that hope.

  “Go on.”

  “I may not be able to have children.”

  His face looked like she’d hit him in the stomach. And she might as well have. What man wanted to hear that the woman he loved couldn’t bear him any children? With his free hand he did a quick swipe down his face and then he looked back to the river. His silence spoke volumes.

  He’d never marry her now.

  Words wouldn’t come. How could an amazing woman like Katherine survive all this? She was only twenty-five years old and had endured so much.

  Why God? What do I say to her?

  In his own twenty-nine years, he’d seen horrors firsthand. But he hadn’t had to live them like she had. What had that man done to her? His thoughts went to places they shouldn’t.

  Rage filled him, but he couldn’t let it get a grip on him. He knew better than that.

  When he turned back to face her, the beautiful smile he’d seen earlier was gone. In its place was a mask of defeat. He’d done that, hadn’t he?

  He took both of her hands in his and swallowed. “My sweet Katherine, it doesn’t matter to me if you can’t have children. My love for you will not change.”

  The sheen of tears glistened in her eyes as she shook her head. “Don’t say that to make me feel better, don’t. I know how much children mean to you. I remember you telling me that you wanted a houseful.”

  “But not if you aren’t there by my side. Can’t you see? God has given us a second chance. He’s brought us through fire. And even though we might have only ashes left, I believe we can build from here.”

  “Truly?” Her face brightened.

  “Oui. We should do things properly, though.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “We know so much about each other from the past, but we need to get to know one another again—the new Katherine and the new Jean-Michel. I want to take our time—all the time you need so that you build trust in me and know that I will take care of you. That I will never treat you as the senator did.”

  A brief nod and then she tucked her lip between her teeth like she did when they were younger and she was afraid to ask something.

  “What is it? Ask anything.”

  She hesitated, then finally spoke. “Do you . . . have the bad memories every night?”

  “I used to have them most every night. Coming here, however, I found some relief—until the fire. But today John Ivanoff prayed for me. I’ve never felt anything like it. God has the power to help me. I know He does. If He chooses to take away the nightmares, I will be blessed. If He doesn’t . . .”

  “Then we will get through them together.” Her face flushed and she covered her mouth.

  He smirked at her—knowing full well that her thoughts had taken her toward marriage. The thought made him very happy. At least she wasn’t scared of him.

  “I’m sorry. That was very forward of me.”

  “I like it when you’re straightforward like that.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Well, then, you should know that I very much want to be held by you—kissed by you.” She held up a hand. “But not today. It might take me a while to be ready.”

  “I’ve waited all these years, Katherine. I’ll wait a hundred more if you’ll have me.”

  24

  AUGUST 12

  Life wasn’t fair.

  Davey and his family were gone.

  Jean-Michel spent all his time either exercising, with Katherine, or with John and Allan.

  Collette had picked and pressed enough flowers for bookmarks that she never wanted to see another one in her lifetime. Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that drastic, but it felt that way and she was bored.

  She’d never make it on bed rest like poor Cassidy.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have introduced Katherine to Cassidy. Not only was the beautiful widow taking up time with her brother, but she and Mrs. Brennan always had way more to talk about and Collette ended up feeling left out.

  That was the problem.

  Again, she realized just how selfish she was. But was it too much to ask to have a little attention centered on her again?

  With a sigh, she stomped down the stairs to the dining room for luncheon. She had thought America was going to be so exciting. But the most exciting thing this week was the baby moose she saw down by the river. And it was ugly. Why did all the others think it was so cute?

  She tapped her forehead with her hand. There she went again. Why must she always revert to her selfish and superficial ways?

  Wil
ling the horrible thoughts away, Collette pasted on a smile. Cassidy told her to pray every time she needed help with her attitude or words, so Collette shot a quick prayer heavenward.

  Jean-Michel stood as she approached their table and held out the chair for her. “Chère sœur.” He kissed her cheeks. “Please join us. I’m so glad you made it down. I was just telling Katherine and Mrs. Harrison about a horseback trip into the park I’d like to take next week with John and Allan.”

  She sat in her chair and placed her napkin in her lap. “That sounds nice.”

  “We will be gone several days, but I’ve been told the views of the mountains and glaciers are spectacular.”

  A lovely plate of luncheon was set before her by their waiter. Collette wondered what it would be like to travel by horseback for several days. “Will your leg be up for the rigors, frère?”

  “I believe so.” He smiled. In fact, he looked more like a little boy than her grown brother. The trip obviously excited him.

  She dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth. “These berries are delicious.”

  Katherine leaned closer to her. “They’re called salmonberries. Isn’t that an interesting name?”

  Collette nodded. “Very . . . what is the word? Aqueux? Um . . . like water?”

  “Watery?” Katherine lifted her brows. “That was exactly what I thought. Like a strawberry, but much more . . . watery.”

  Laughter rounded the table.

  Collette looked back to her brother. “So what will you do on this trip?”

  “Obviously ride horses.” He took a sip of his coffee. “But also we will look for wildlife, fish, and even walk on a glacier.”

  “A glacier? How interesting.” A new thought invaded Collette’s mind and it wouldn’t let go. She set her fork down for a moment. “I think I would like to go on this expedition as well.” There. She’d said it. Perhaps a bit too loudly, as several people turned to look at their table, but she’d said it nonetheless. If her injured brother could handle the trip, so could she.

  Jean-Michel blinked several times at her. “We will be staying in tents, Collette. You’ve never done that.”

  “I can learn.”

  Mrs. Harrison pointed her knife in Collette’s direction. “There will be bears, dear. You don’t want to disrupt the creatures. Best to leave this trip to the men.”

  The older woman obviously didn’t know that her words would only convince Collette to go. No matter the difficulty. It didn’t matter that the thought of bears and sleeping in tents overwhelmed her a bit.

  “Collette.” Jean-Michel tilted his head. He knew exactly what she was thinking, and so he should. “I’ve seen that face before. Please. Don’t.”

  “We came here to see Alaska, did we not? You’ve been on several little expeditions around here while I have done nothing but take a trip down the river. And it wasn’t a pleasant one at that.”

  “And what will you wear, dear girl?” Mrs. Harrison asked. “Did you bring a riding outfit? You can hardly go out into the wilderness on horseback dressed like this.”

  Collette looked down at her pretty dress. It had been made just before they’d left for America. The slim straight-lined fashion suited her and made her feel grown-up, but the older woman had a point.

  “I will borrow a riding outfit from one of the workers here. If that fails, I shall find a young man as small as me and borrow his trousers.”

  Mrs. Harrison almost choked on her water. As she covered her mouth with her napkin, Collette recognized the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes. “I fear you have a situation on your hands, young man.”

  Collette turned to Katherine. “Won’t you go as well?” She desperately needed an ally.

  “No, thank you. I think I will stay here for Cassidy. It’s getting harder and harder for her to stay in bed.”

  “It’s the nesting time.” Mrs. Harrison nodded. “Happens to every woman. She wants to be up and about preparing for the baby.” The older woman looked back at Collette. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here and make more bookmarks with Cassidy? I’ve seen the ones you’ve made, and they’re just glorious. I’ve even purchased several to take home to friends.”

  A groan left her lips. Not another bookmark. Please. She sat up straighter and stiffened her shoulders as she lifted her chin. Just enough to show Jean-Michel she meant business. “I’m finished with bookmarks. I would like to speak to the guides about this trip. I will be going along.”

  AUGUST 14

  Thomas checked the tents for any tears and looked to his mentor. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  John shook his head. “You know the tourists these days, Thomas. We can’t tell them much if they are unwilling to listen. As soon as Collette said she wanted to go, I had three more women wanting to sign up for the trip to join their husbands. Mr. Bradley says they can handle it, so it’s our job to make sure they enjoy it. Even if I do think that having Miss Langelier along just might spell disaster.”

  The beautiful French girl was about his age, but Thomas didn’t understand how the wealthy lived. It always amazed him how much luggage they brought, the shoes they wore, and of course, the crazy outfits they insisted were the style for outings such as the excursions they took. One woman brought her umbrella on one of the short horseback rides and nearly terrified the poor animal when she opened it.

  Now they would be going deeper into the park where everything was far more rustic and primitive. There would be no afternoon teas or staff to wait upon them. Worse still, no private accommodations for personal needs. They would have to make all of this clear before the start of the trip, but Thomas had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. They would all declare it a great adventure, sure to be fun. As if they knew what it would be like to traipse through tundra grass that was thigh-high or climb craggy rocks. He shook his head. Life must be very different in the world in which they lived.

  Packing the tent in the special manner John taught him, Thomas thought more about Collette. She was beautiful. And he really liked her brother. But she always seemed dissatisfied, as if she were busting at the seams for something new every day. Like she was bored with life.

  Thomas didn’t think he’d ever been bored in all of his twenty years. In fact, he could remember plenty of times where he wished he could be bored. It was wonderful to work hard and to be busy, but yes, he longed for days where he could lounge around and sip drinks, order food from a fine restaurant, and be waited on hand and foot. The thought made him laugh.

  “What’s tickled your funny bone?” John was packing up snowshoes for their trek to Ruth Glacier and he smiled over at Thomas.

  “I thought for a brief moment about how nice it would be to live as the rich do with people waiting on me.”

  “Why is that so funny?”

  Thomas felt his face flush. “Can you see me holding a cup of tea with one hand—my pinky in the air? I’d probably end up trying to serve dinner.”

  “That would be a sight to see!” Allan’s steady voice came from the doorway. “Good morning, gentlemen. I see we are preparing for our trip into the park. So I’m assuming it’s still on? No one got scared and canceled?”

  “Afraid not.” John sighed. “We’ve had four more people sign up, and I told Mr. Bradley that was all we could handle.”

  Allan’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, boy. How many total?”

  “It started out as three, plus us. Now there are twelve guests plus the three of us, which makes fifteen total.” John knelt by the stack of snowshoes and wound rope in a figure eight pattern around his wrist and elbow. “The three of us are going to have to share a tent. We’ll have the four women in the large tent and the men can sleep in the other three. Thomas, I’m going to need you to go see Mrs. Johnson and ask for extra bread for sandwiches and anything else that we can carry and don’t have to cook. It’s going to take a lot to feed everyone for a week. We already planned to fish, so make sure she includes some salt and pepper. You know what we’ll need.”

&nb
sp; “Yes, sir.” He jumped up. “The tents are all packed and I’ve just checked all the sleeping cots over there. Next to the cots we also have five of those . . . what did you call them? . . . Euklisia Rugs—in case some of the men want to sleep on the ground.”

  “Wonderful, Thomas. Thank you.” John stood and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, and could you check and see if Mrs. Johnson has any of those sweet rolls left? It may take a few of those to keep us going today.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thomas’s stomach growled at the thought of the sweet and sticky pastries Mrs. Johnson was famous for. Well, if he admitted it, she was famous for a lot of different things. So was Cassidy.

  Thoughts of his friend made him wonder how she was doing. Cassidy was never one to sit still, so all this bed rest must be driving her batty. He’d promised to visit her as often as he could, but since he’d been helping fill in for her, his time had been short. He hadn’t seen her in about a week. Maybe he should try to check in with her today after he spoke with the head chef.

  Allan and John kept him up to date on how she was doing, but he sure would like to see her for himself.

  As he trekked from the gear shed back to the hotel, he remembered what it had been like when he first came to the Curry. Cassidy had been his champion many times over. Saving him from Mrs. Johnson’s or Mr. Bradley’s wrath when he was overly clumsy, or just sticking up for him and cheering him on.

  A memory trickled in of one particularly disastrous day when the head chef had yelled at him something fierce. Granted, he’d made a huge mess, but it was Cassidy who’d helped him through it.

  “We all go through that stage, but I was an exceptionally clumsy child . . . and I loved to hug. Always have, really. And not just people. I hugged our dogs, the pigs, chickens. I even tried to hug a squirrel once. That one didn’t go over too well with the squirrel, I’m sorry to say.”

  Thomas had snickered at the thought of Cassidy imposing her love on the squirrel, but she hadn’t minded. Instead she’d continued explaining her own clumsiness.