Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  As Jean-Michel leaned down to kiss his new wife, the Curry Hotel dining room erupted in joyful cries.

  But all sound melted away as his lips met hers. Innocence, trust, and a lifetime of pain that God turned into joy in that gentle kiss. God had blessed him indeed.

  The crowd rushed to congratulate them, and Jean-Michel saw the bliss captured on Katherine’s face. He hoped to keep it there for the rest of their lives.

  “We’ve a beautiful cake and punch to do this up right,” Mrs. Johnson announced as two of her staff brought in the two-tiered cake on a silver tray.

  “I don’t believe I’m feeling quite up to staying for cake,” Katherine’s grandmother announced. “I wonder if someone might escort me back to my room.”

  Jean-Michel moved forward to assist the older woman, but John Ivanoff waved him off. “I would be honored.” He helped her from her chair and placed a protective arm around her. Once they reached the stairs, John lifted her in his arms. Grandmother Harrison offered no protest.

  Katherine wrapped an arm around Jean-Michel’s back. “Let’s stay a few minutes and celebrate with everyone, then we can go check on her. She wants us to have our day.” A sheen of tears shone in her eyes. “I promised her we would stay.” The corners of her mouth tipped up into a sad smile.

  He nodded. This was their day, but they both knew Maria Harrison was not long for this world.

  Mrs. Johnson scurried around the room serving cake while Mr. Ferguson disbursed cups of punch. Katherine was still in shock. What had happened between those two? Their fights had become notorious gossip shared around the hotel. And now—well, now, they seemed to almost enjoy each other’s company.

  Maybe it was all a ruse. They could be doing it just for her—to keep her day special.

  Whatever the reason, she was forever grateful. The day had been perfect. As she stood next to her husband, they held hands and spoke to the guests.

  “So where will you live?” Allan directed his question to Jean-Michel. “Since you’re from France and Katherine is from America, will you make both your home?”

  Jean-Michel glanced at her. “I’m not sure. We need to talk about it. But I can say quite honestly that there is nothing in France that beckons me back.”

  “I certainly have no desire to live in New York.” Katherine smiled up at him.

  “Would you consider staying here?” Jean-Michel turned to her. “The town is growing, we have friends here . . .” He let the sentence hang.

  Her heart filled with love for this man. “I would love to stay.”

  “Excellent!” Allan clapped his hands together. “Now we just need to figure out how to get you a house built before the snow flies.”

  Collette came up beside Katherine. “Is this true? You’re staying in Alaska?”

  Jean-Michel looked a bit fearful. “I’m so sorry, Collette. I had hoped to speak to you on the matter, but yes. It’s true. I have no desire to go back to France. However, I will go back to settle you there if that is your desire.”

  Collette said nothing for a moment, but then she shook her head. “Non. I have no wish to go back, but neither do I want to impose on you.” She straightened her shoulders and grabbed Katherine’s other hand. “I believe I would like to work with Mrs. Johnson and Cassidy.”

  “You want to work . . . as a staff member?” Jean-Michel sounded shocked.

  Katherine looked back to her new sister-in-law and raised her eyebrows.

  She smiled and nodded. “Not forever, frère. But oui, I do. I like feeling useful.”

  Jean-Michel put his arm around Katherine and smiled out to the crowd. “It would seem we have made a decision to remain in Alaska.”

  The bell outside rang and brought the room to silence.

  The railroad master ran into the room. “Mr. Bradley!”

  All eyes turned at the urgency in the man’s voice.

  “What is it?” The manager set his punch down and became all business.

  “There’s a tree down on the tracks. A big one. And the next train will be here in less than twenty minutes.”

  Thomas ran as fast as his legs could carry him. A tree down on the tracks with a steam locomotive headed for it at full speed could be devastating. When he reached the site, he realized that at least it was close enough to the Curry that the engineer would be slowing down, but it wouldn’t be enough. And it would be too late.

  They had to get the tree off the tracks.

  Men worked with chains to try to move the massive trunk, but they needed more man power. Thomas took off his suit jacket and threw it to the ground.

  As the crowd began to gather, the railroad master barked orders. “We need all able-bodied men to help lift.”

  Several more men came forward, including Jean-Michel, Allan, and John. But they needed more.

  Mr. Bradley removed his coat and joined them as well.

  “Mr. Bradley!” Miss Moreau ran toward them. “I went to get my uncle . . . he may have issues with his mind, but he is very strong . . .” The young woman sobbed. “But he is not there.”

  “Miss, we’ve got to get this tree off the tracks. After that, we’ll form a search party for your uncle, but at the moment, you need to move out of the way!”

  Thomas had never heard the manager quite so adamant. But it seemed every time they turned around, this tiny little thing had lost her uncle. They didn’t need another crisis. Not now.

  “All right, men.” The railroad master yelled his command, “Heave!”

  The giant trunk moved a few inches.

  Grunts and groans were heard through the line of men. The tree had to have been at least eighty feet tall. Were there enough of them to move it?

  “Heave!”

  Another few piddly inches.

  The train’s horn sounded in the distance.

  “Let’s go men, heave!”

  A shabby form appeared at the edge of the tree line.

  Thomas recognized the man. “PJ! Please come help us!”

  The disheveled man stared at Thomas with a blank expression. But before Thomas could call out to him again, PJ caught sight of Jean-Michel and hurried to his side. He gave a crisp salute.

  “Mon Général, I have come to make my report.”

  Jean-Michel looked at him as if seeing a ghost. Thomas heard the train grow closer. “Get him to help us, Jean-Michel.”

  “Uh . . . uh . . .” Jean-Michel seemed unable to comprehend what needed to be done.

  “The general needs your help.” Thomas grabbed hold of the man’s arm. “We must move this tree . . . now!”

  The man nodded and with surprising agility jumped over the trunk of the tree and stood opposite Jean-Michel.

  Thomas gave the man a nod and took his place as well.

  The railroad master shouted, “Heave!”

  Another blast from the train horn.

  “Heave!”

  They could see the steam engine now. It wouldn’t have time to stop . . . even if the engineer saw them.

  “Come on, men! Heave!”

  Everyone must have had a burst of adrenaline, because the tree moved the last foot off the tracks.

  The squeal of brakes pierced all their ears.

  As the train passed safely over the tracks and came to a stop, Thomas went to grab PJ. This had to be the same man he’d seen searching the hotel, mumbling about the general—the mysterious, missing uncle. But he was a mess. How had he gotten in such bad shape?

  “PJ?”

  The man’s eyes opened wider and looked around wildly at the crowd. Thomas grabbed the man’s arm before he could run.

  “Un moment, Thomas.” Jean-Michel approached. He searched the man’s face. “Non. It can’t be.”

  “What do you mean? Do you know this man?”

  “Oui. I do. His name is Caporal—I believe you say, Corporal—Phillippe Moreau.”

  Phillippe straightened with another crisp salute. “Mon Général!” Then his eyes narrowed and a look of confusion came over his
face. “General? Non, you are not the general. You are . . . you know what I’ve . . .”

  The disheveled man collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.

  33

  Katherine watched her new husband pace the Moreau family’s room back at the hotel while their little crowd watched and waited. What had happened to this poor man’s mind?

  Mr. Moreau had been carried back and laid in his bed. His niece sat at his side, pleading with her uncle to awaken, but the man hadn’t moved.

  And now—on her wedding day, no less—Katherine’s sweet husband couldn’t say a word. Somehow, this man on the bed before them was from the dark past.

  The man moaned and shifted on the bed. Then he gasped and sat up with a jolt.

  “Uncle!”

  Jean-Michel moved forward, as did Mr. Bradley and Thomas. The men had joined them in Mr. Moreau’s room, most likely to stand guard over their wayward guest.

  Mr. Moreau’s wide eyes searched the room. When they landed on her husband, the man burst into tears and sobbed like a child. “You’ve come to take me to prison!”

  Katherine looked at Jean-Michel. “What is he talking about?”

  The niece glanced at them both—fear apparent in her eyes.

  For a moment, Jean-Michel appeared twenty years older. He swiped a hand down his face and sighed. “Lord, help me.” Moving closer to the bed, he nodded to Mr. Bradley. “This man’s name is Phillippe. He was one of the soldiers under my command during the Druze Revolt. One day . . .” He cleared his throat. “Phillippe snapped and he . . . he . . . did some horrible things.”

  Mr. Moreau cried even louder. “They’re all dead. All those people . . .”

  In an instant, Katherine understood. The man before them was the man who’d set fire to the building. The reason Jean-Michel had been shot . . . and why his two friends had been killed.

  “Oh, please . . . don’t take him to prison!” Moreau’s niece pleaded.

  Jean-Michel let out a long breath. He reached for Katherine’s hand but continued to look at the man on the bed. “Nobody will be going to prison, but he needs help. Can’t you see that? His mind is being ravaged by the horrible memories.”

  “No one can save me now . . .” Moreau moaned.

  Jean-Michel dropped Katherine’s hand and lunged forward, grabbing the man’s shoulders. “Phillippe. Phillippe! Look at me!”

  The wild eyes focused on her husband. “Captain Langelier.”

  Jean-Michel nodded. “What you did was wrong. Terrible things. Things that have tormented my dreams for years.” He sat on the bed beside the man but didn’t release his arms. “But there’s something you need to hear from me. Are you listening, Phillippe?”

  “Oui, Capitaine.” Tears slipped down the man’s cheeks.

  “There is One who can save you. I know, because I had to be saved myself. No man—no matter what he’s done—is beyond redemption.”

  “It is too late!” The man gripped the sides of his head and pulled at his hair.

  Jean-Michel shook him by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Phillippe. Non. It is never too late.”

  The man stilled and watched Jean-Michel.

  “It is not too late for you, Phillippe.”

  Katherine’s heart broke as she saw a single tear slip down Jean-Michel’s face.

  Her husband let go of the man. “I forgive you . . . I forgive you.”

  She went to Jean-Michel and wrapped her arms around him.

  Mr. Bradley moved to their sides. “I think it’s time we got Mr. Moreau the help that he needs.”

  Standing out on the suspension bridge, Jean-Michel held his bride. “It’s been quite a day.”

  Katherine tilted her head up to him. “I’m proud of you. It couldn’t have been easy to forgive Mr. Moreau for his terrible deeds, but you did.”

  “God did that, Katherine. Not me. It was all I could do not to strangle the man, but then I prayed and God gave me peace. And the power to forgive.”

  “I’m so thankful He did.” She reached up and kissed his lips.

  “Thomas told me that he found the man once searching the hotel for secret passageways and muttering about a general.” Jean-Michel shook his head. “I had no idea he was here all this time and looking for me.” After sorting through what Phillippe had been able to tell them in his lucid moments, they learned he had been inexplicably driven to find his commanding officer and confess . . . report his heinous actions. His guilt had compelled him to search for Jean-Michel all the way to Alaska. But too much of the time he’d been confused, thinking he was still a soldier of war on secret missions to destroy the enemy.

  The only enemy in reality was his own psyche.

  “His mind was definitely not right.”

  “Non. It wasn’t. I pity him. I know what I’ve had to endure all this time, and to think that all these years, it’s been eating him up on the inside—the guilt of what he’d done. His mind obviously couldn’t take it anymore, and so, as Dr. Reilly explained to me, Moreau had created some kind of new world in his mind. A world where he reported to a general and had a very important mission. Apparently the only true mission was his mind trying to find me. Because I knew what he’d done.”

  “I can’t say I understand it all, but I’m thankful it’s over and pray he gets the help he needs. He looks so very old and sick now.”

  Jean-Michel couldn’t believe it—but it showed him what carrying around his burdens could do to his mind. Thank God he’d given his life over before he went down the same dark path.

  Katherine pulled away and took a step toward the hotel. “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through.”

  Jean-Michel watched her move slowly down the bridge. What was he doing? He caught up to her and pulled her back into his arms. “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” Her sweet smile lit his heart on fire.

  “After all we’ve been through, we’re finally married, and I’m neglecting you.”

  She laughed—a sound that he’d never tire of. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I thought maybe you needed some time.”

  Leaning down, he caught her lips with his own. “I don’t need any more time spent in the past. What do you say we move forward?”

  “I’d love that.” She pulled away and tugged at his hand to follow.

  Morning sunshine filled the room and Katherine turned in her husband’s arms.

  Her amazing and wonderful husband’s arms.

  After returning to the hotel, they’d gone to see Grandmother one last time. The beloved woman had declined as the day went on. Katherine cried as she said good night—thinking that it very well could be the last time.

  A knock on the door made her jump out of bed and pull on her robe. The only one to disturb them would be the maid who’d stayed up with her grandmother.

  Katherine opened the door.

  Dr. Reilly nodded. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Langelier. But your grandmother passed peacefully in her sleep.”

  Jean-Michel was behind her in an instant with his arms wrapped around her. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

  His arms couldn’t take away the pain, and the tears flowed, but Katherine knew it was all right. Grandmother had lived life to the fullest. She’d loved God and done what she could for her fellow man. She had also helped Katherine to live life anew—to have hope in what could be rather than waste away in what had been.

  It was because of Grandmother that her love for Jean-Michel had risen out of the ashes of all their pain and suffering to live again.

  “Are you certain this is what you want to do?” Jean-Michel wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “The decision was made very quickly and it’s not exactly the honeymoon I wanted to give you.”

  “It will be time with you and that is all that matters.” Katherine smiled. It would be hard saying her final good-byes to the woman who’d loved her more than anyone else, but time away with Jean-Michel would be lovely. Then they could return home to Curry. Together
.

  “We’ll be pulling out in five minutes,” the brakeman told their small group.

  Katherine looked at the train that would take her grandmother’s body back to Anchorage. There it would be prepared for burial before traveling back to New York. It was only right to lay her to rest beside Grandfather. The two had loved each other so completely that it would have been wrong to bury her in Alaska. Besides, there would be all of the legal issues to oversee regarding her grandmother’s estate. Thankfully, Jean-Michel would be at her side. They’d made the right decision.

  “You’ll be back before you know it.” Cassidy stepped forward and hugged Katherine.

  “You’ll definitely want to get back as soon as you can,” Allan added, “before the snow is too deep.”

  John grinned. “That could be tomorrow.” The others laughed.

  “Thomas! Hurry up or you’ll miss the train.” Mrs. Johnson’s bark resounded off the train platform.

  Thomas would ride with them to Anchorage, pick up supplies for the hotel, and then head back. After that, he had to take the train north to school.

  Their young friend joined them on the platform, very nearly breathless. “I’m . . . I’m . . . here.”

  Mrs. Johnson came up behind him. “I don’t know how you’re ever going to make it in Fairbanks without me to keep you at your tasks.” Everyone laughed as Thomas’s face reddened.

  Allan clapped him on the back. “He’ll do fine. He’s a good man—getting better by the day.”

  Collette came from the hotel and threw herself into Jean-Michel’s arms. “I will miss you.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll be much too busy,” Mrs. Johnson promised.

  Jean-Michel kissed her on the forehead. “I have a feeling Mrs. Johnson is right. You will be far too busy to miss me. Who knew? The rich, French socialite taking a job in a hotel kitchen.”

  Collette let go her hold on her brother and turned to Katherine. “I love you both so much.”

  She embraced Katherine and it made Katherine’s heart melt a little more. Now she had a sister. “And we love you, and are so proud of you.” She smiled as Collette stepped back.

  The train whistle blew, signaling the time to go. Everyone bid them good-bye and waved as they boarded the train to Anchorage. Katherine and Jean-Michel climbed into the car, then turned to stop at the top of the stairs.