[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart (24 page)

My face still red, I left the platform clutching the small
brown bag. By the time I had regained my composure and my
post by the brewing pot of coffee, Santa's ho-ho-ho's were fading in the distance.

We proceeded to serve the lunch. I poured coffee and hot
chocolate. When I finally ran out of customers, I decided to
have a cup of hot chocolate myself. Lydia Delaney motioned
me over to her family. It was good to see Phil with more color
in his cheeks, and he had gained a few pounds since I had last
seen him. They made room for me between the two Mrs. Delaneys. They were anxious to know about my Christmas plans,
and I told them that I intended to spend the holiday recess
with Jon's family in Calgary.

I wanted to ask them about Wynn-where he had been
posted and if"they expected him home, but I didn't trust my
voice to be casual enough. so I held my tongue.

A small stirring drew our attention to the far side of the
room and I noticed Phillip, Sr. watching it with interest.
Henry Laverly seemed to be circulating among the young men,
prompting a number of them to dig disgustedly into their
pockets. Phil stood up and sauntered toward them, greeting
and talking with neighbors as he worked his way across the
room.

It wasn't until after nearly all of the crowd had bundled up
and headed for home, sleighbells ringing and harnesses crackling, that word reached me. It seemed that some of the neighborhood young men had made bets as to who would he the
first to get a kiss from the new, young schoolteacher; and
bashful, reserved Henry Laverly, with his sneaky Santa routine, had just collected the bets.

I didn't realize just how much I was looking forward to
Christmas break until I climbed aboard the train in Lacombe
and was finally bound for Calgary. A lonesomeness for my
family back East swept over me in an almost overwhelming
wave, and for a moment I considered buying a ticket for Toronto and heading home. My sense of reason, and my love for
my students, held me steady, so instead I began to plan the
days that I would spend with Jon and his family.

The train ride was, as usual, long and slow; and by the
time we arrived in Calgary the short winter's day was almost
spent, and darkness was creeping upon us.

Jon met me at the station. He had brought the three older
children with him, and they all took turns trying to dislodge
my hat with their wild bear hugs. My enthusiasm may have
been more controlled but nonetheless sincere.

The family was preparing for Christmas. Festive decorations greeted us at the front door, and delicious odors reached
us as soon as we stepped inside. It was like coming home, and
my homesickness began to leave me.

The first days I spent in shopping and being entertained by
the children. Sarah had to bring me up-to-date on her reading
skills, and William demonstrated his ability on the violin,
while Kathleen, chattering constantly, followed me about.

There was to be a special Christmas Eve service in the
church, and the children talked about it constantly, probably as much from the opportunity to "stay up late" as anything
else. By the time the day arrived, I, too, had caught their excitement.

We traveled the short distance by sleigh, for the cold
weather made unpredictable the starting of automobiles left
out in the elements. Besides, Mary maintained, the sleigh was
much more in keeping with Christmas. The rest of us agreed.
We burrowed together under furry buffalo robes and enjoyed
the twinkling of the stars in the clear sky overhead and the
crisp sound of the snow under the runners.

The team, a pair of magnificent bays, snorted and tossed
their heads, sending out small clouds of frosty breath. I had
the feeling that the two would have enjoyed a good run, so I
was glad that Jon was well able to handle them.

Jon seated us quite near the front of the church. I sat nestled between Sarah on my left and Kathleen on my right. The
room was glowing with candlelight; shadows danced across
the faces of the two playing the parts of Mary and Joseph and
looking down on the Christ Child lying in the manger bed. The
green wreaths made of spruce not only looked Christmasy, but
they brought a lovely Christmasy smell to the sanctuary as
well.

The service was delightful. We sensed again the awe of the
first Christmas so long ago when God sent His most precious
gift, His Son Jesus, into the world to be born of a woman so
that someday, as a sacrifice, He could provide salvation for
the whole human race.

The familiar Christmas carols had never meant as much to
me as they did on that night. As I recited the words, I pictured
the young Mary, her hour having come, with no one to care for
her-no warm bed, no private room, no skilled midwife-only
straw, a stable, and an anxious husband nearby. She herself
cared for the newborn Son of God, the baby Jesus.

I thought of my Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, now
reduced to a helpless child, not even able to express His needs
and wants, far less demand the honor due Him; and I thought
of the Father who must have watched anxiously from His throne as the new Babe made His appearance in the world
that He had fashioned. God himself lay snuggled against the
breast of a young peasant girl in a dimly lit stable in Bethlehem. How God must have loved mankind, to allow Him to
come.

I left the service that night with a full heart and overflowing eyes. I brushed away tears with my handkerchief as I
smiled at Kathleen and Sarah.

"Baby 'Liz'beth wasn't born with the cows," Kathleen
whispered.

I nodded my head and gave her a squeeze to let her know
that I knew how she felt.

"I'm glad," she insisted. She thought silently for a few
minutes, then continued, "If she would have been, would she
have been a Jesus?"

I smiled. "No, dear, she still would have been an Elizabeth. And Jesus would have still been Jesus, the Son of God, if
He had been born in a hospital room or a King's chamber.
Where one is born doesn't change who one is. But God knew
where Jesus would be born, so He told us through His prophet,
many years before it actually happened."

"God's pretty smart, huh?"

"Yes, Kathleen. God knows all things."

We followed the others down the aisle. The candle flames
flickered and wavered, sending light and shadow to play on
smiling faces while friends greeted one another as they moved
toward the door.

"Hello, Elizabeth."

At the sound of the familiar voice, I turned quickly around
and found myself looking up into the face of Wynn. It was the
first time I had seen him in uniform. If I had found it difficult
before to imagine him as a Mountie, as I looked at him now I
could not imagine him as anything else. His strength was
more than physical. There was a strength of character and
purpose about him that made the red tunic look deserving of
the man.

My breath had caught in a little gasp and it was a moment
before I could answer him.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," I said shyly, and his widening smile brought a flush to my cheeks.

By then Kathleen had realized who was beside us and had
claimed his attention. Jerking his sleeve, she was demanding,
"Are you coming to our house, Dee? Are you coming to see our
tree?"

"Hey," he said, "slow down, Moppet. As a matter of fact,
your mother has invited me to your house, and I think-" he
teased lightly, "I think maybe I'll come."

She ignored his teasing and clapped her hands. "He's coming, Aunt Beth! Isn't that good?"

I was busy trying to understand the strange fluttering of
my heart. Was it the aura of the red jacket, or the fact that he
had spoken my name? I hoped that Kathleen could keep his
attention until I was able to get myself well under control.

Mary called Kathleen and the girl went to join her family. I
was left, heart thumping, standing very close in the crowded
aisle to this awesome man in the red coat.

"Jon has suggested," he began, and then his eyes began to
twinkle, "-no, that's not true. Jon has agreed to my suggestion that, since I am to spend the evening at his house, you
could ride over with me so that I might catch up on the Pine
Springs news." He laughed then-a soft, good-natured
chuckle. "Maybe that's not entirely true either, but I do want
a chance for a bit of a talk, because once we get to Jon's and in
the company of his chattering offspring, there will be little
chance to even ask how you've been."

I smiled, knowing that he was right.

"Would you, Elizabeth?"

My smile seemed to wobble a little. "I'd like that."

He took my arm and steered me through the crowd and out
to his waiting team. As the team stomped impatiently, the
bells on their harness jingled clearly through the night air and
seemed to echo again and again from the nearby buildings.

Wynn helped me into the sleigh and tucked the robes
closely about me. As soon as we were on our way, he opened
the conversation.

"So how is my big brother?"

"He's fine. I saw him and the family just a few nights ago
at the Christmas program. He looks much better-has gained
weight and picked up some color-and he looks absolutely
happy."

"Good," was all he answered, but he spoke the single word
with great feeling.

We were silent for several moments. I held my tongue, and
my breath, until I feared that I would burst. I gave up. I had to
know.

"And are you posted here in Calgary?"

"For now, but I'm not sure for how long. I expect that another posting will come soon, though I don't know where. I'm
enjoying Calgary. The city is growing so fast that there's always something going on, but I'm rather anxious to get
back-"

"Back to where?"

"I've spent six years at various posts in the North. I like it
there."

"What do you do? I didn't think that there were many settlers in the North."

"Settlers, no-not too many. Trappers mostly. But the
North is full of people. We are far more than law enforcement
to the people there; Mounties are the only dentists, doctors,
coroners, arbitrators, advisors--and clergymen, that many of
the people have. They depend upon us, Elizabeth, not just to
bring justice but to bring hope and help."

I thought about his words, and I thought about Julie. I
wondered if her impression of the scarlet-coated Mountie was
so accurate after all. Rather than adventure and excitement,
their job sounded like a great deal of responsibility and hard
work to me. And it sounded noble, though I didn't think that
Wynn Delaney would care for that word, so I kept it to myself.

"Are there many women there?" The words were out before I could stop them.

"White women? No. Very few. Oh, a few of the North West
Mounted Police have taken brides-unwisely."

"unwisely?"

"It's a very difficult life. No modern homes, no shops. no entertainment. Often there are no white friends, unless it's a
trapper's wife. It's not the place for a lady."

"But don't they need schools?"

"There are some mission schools, often taught by men.
But for the most part. no-they don't think much about needing schools. The men know how to hunt and fish and care for
their traps, and the women know how to tan the hides, dry the
meat, haul the wood, tote the water. What more do they need
to know? Those are the things necessary for surviving in their
land."

I could tell by his voice that he was smiling as he said the
words, yet I knew he was speaking from firsthand knowledge;
he had worked among the people of the North. I did not try to
argue.

He suddenly turned to me. "Here we are almost to Jon's,
and you were to have given me all the news from Pine Springs.
You'd better fill me in quickly," he prompted.

I laughed, and in as few words as possible I told him of
some of the happenings of the community.

We pulled up to the front door and he stopped the team
and helped me out of the sleigh. I had taken his offered arm to
ease myself to the snow-packed ground when my foot caught
in the buffalo robe. I tumbled forward, grabbing frantically for
something solid. His reactions were quicker than mine, and
before I could right myself I was held firmly in two strong
arms.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously against my hair. I
quickly steadied myself and gently pushed myself away from
him.

".Just clumsy," I said in embarrassment. I released my
hold on his coat sleeves and stepped back. I was thankful that
he could not clearly see my face.

"It's slippery under foot," he cautioned.

"I'11 try to be careful." I even managed a slight laugh.

"As soon as I care for the team, I'll be in."

I went quietly up the stairs to my room. In front of a mirror
I removed my hat that had been jarred askew by my fall
against Wynn. Straightening my hair with a trembling hand. I gave myself a few moments to regain my composure. By the
time I arrived downstairs to join the family, Wynn was already there. Our eyes met briefly but neither of us made any
comment.

Mary was serving cocoa and popcorn, and the children
were jostling for a position close to the fire. As soon as they
had finished their refreshments, Mary led them off to bed.

We spent the rest of the evening chatting and playing dominoes. It was nearly ten o'clock when Mary brought the coffee
and Christmas baking. Jon threw more wood on the fire, and
we pulled up close to the crackling flames and comfortably
visited. At length, Mary asked Wynn, "Are you going to the
wedding?"

He nodded.

"You don't seem very enthusiastic." she teased.

He still said nothing.

"So, why not?" Mary persisted.

"It's none of my business, I suppose," Wynn said slowly,
"but I think that it's a mistake."

"Whose mistake?" Jon asked.

"Withers'."