[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart (26 page)

I never did discover what William's wrong was. It did not
seem important-for pricking at my own conscience was my
dishonesty of the day before. I looked down at my ankle, feeling a hatred for the offending member; then I reminded myself
that it wasn't the ankle that was at fault.

I was called for lunch. William appeared at the table, all
traces of tears gone. In fact, he looked happier than usual, and
when Stacy served the dessert, I noticed that William received
a larger-than-usual serving. William noticed it, and he gave
Stacy a grin. She winked-ever so quickly and slyly. Repentance, confession and restitution. William knew all about the
benefits, while I still sat miserable and squirming in my chair.

After lunch I went to my room. It seemed that my battle
lasted most of the afternoon. I was like William. I didn't mind
telling my wrongdoing to God, but to speak to Wynn? The
very thought of it made my cheeks burn. Yet, plead as I would
for God's forgiveness, I had no peace of heart. Confessionconfession-kept ringing in my mind. Finally I threw myself
upon my bed in desperation.

"God, it was such a foolish little thing," I pleaded.

"It was a wrong thing," my conscience answered.

"Yes, it was wrong-'

"It was sin. You chose to make someone believe an untruth."

"But the untruth will hurt no one."

"How can you speak of hurt? It cost Jesus His life."

"But-please don't make me talk to Wynn-not Wynn. Do you know what he'll think of me?"

"Do you care what God thinks of you?"

"Of course, but ..."

I wept, I pleaded, I argued, but at length I gave in.

"Okay, if that's what must be, I will confess to Wynn at my
first opportunity."

Peace came. but my dread of the encounter with Wynn did
not go away.

I did not need to be in misery for long, for Wynn dropped
by that evening to check on my "injured" ankle. He was only
passing by, he said, so couldn't stay. After exchanging a few
words with .Jon and Mary, he"picked up his fur winter hat and
prepared to leave. I swallowed hard and stood up. My face felt
hot and my throat dry.

"I must see you for a moment- please."

There was just a flicker of surprise-or concern-on his
face.

"Of course."

I led the way to Jon's library, making sure that I. in no
way, favored my "injured" ankle. Once inside. I closed the
door and faced him. I wanted to run away, to hide my face, to
lie again-anything but to face this man with the truth. Before I could change my mind and do any one of those things. I
plunged in.

"I have a confession--about my ankle. I didn't injure it. I
pretended. It's fine--I--" I dropped my gaze. No longer could
I look into those honest, blue eyes. I turned slightly from him.

"I didn't think you would carry one. I just wanted--a little-a little more time ..." I knew that I had to he honest, as
much as it humbled me. "I acted like a silly child." I said.
making myself' look straight into his eyes. "I guess--I
guess-1-1 wanted your attention- -and I--I didn't know how
else to get it. I know it was foolish-and I'm-I'm sorry."

Wynn was looking directly at me. His eyes did not scorn or
mock me, nor did he look shocked or disgusted. There was an
understanding---and. yes, a softness that I had not expected to
see. I turned from him lest I would do something very foolish -such as cry, or throw myself into his arms.

"I have confessed my dishonesty to God-and asked for
His forgiveness. He has graciously granted it. Now-" My
voice was almost a whisper, "now I would like to ask Your forgiveness, also."

I felt Wynn's hands on my shoulders and he turned me
gently to face him.

"Elizabeth," he said softly, "I can't tell you how much I respect you for what you've just done. Few people-" he hesitated a moment. "You've asked for my forgiveness. I give itwillingly, and now I, in turn, must ask yours."

I know that surprise must have shown on my face.

"Elizabeth, I examined your ankle-remember?"

I nodded.

"It was my choice to carry you-right?"

I just looked at him, not able to follow his thinking.

"Elizabeth, I am trained in first aid-to recognize breaks,
and injuries, and sprains-"

I understood then.

"You knew... ?"

He nodded, his eyes not leaving mine. I turned from him.
confused. What was he saying? He knew that my ankle was
not injured when he examined it, vet he had carried me and
held me close against his chest. Was it to shame me? To see
how far I would let the charade go?

"Why?"

As I spoke. my back was still toward him. He paced to the
window where he stood looking out on the darkness.

"Why?" he echoed. "I should think it rather obvious."

He stood for a moment, and then, his somber mood
changed. He crossed back to me, his Mounties' hat in his hand
ready to be placed on his head. I knew that he was leaving.
The twinkle of humor had returned to his eves and made the
corner of his lips twitch slightly.

"And frankly, Elizabeth." he said through that controlled
smile, "I've never enjoyed anything more." And with a slight
nod he departed, and the door closed softly behind him.

I saw Wvnn a number of times that week. Neither of us
ever mentioned my ankle. Nor were we ever alone. All of our
time together was shared with Jon or Mary or one of the children.

But I learned much about him; that he loved people, young
and old alike; that he was respected-by White and Indian;
that he was knowledgeable, seeming to know something about
almost everything; that he read widely and was able to converse about science as easily as he could recite poetry; that he
had a deep and solid faith in God; and that he sensed a mission to help those whom many believed to be second-rate citizens. The more I knew of him the more I admired him, and
what had previously been an infatuation was daily turning
into a feeling much more deep and permanent.

He was kind to me, even solicitous. He even seemed to enjoy my company, but never once did he give me reason to believe that he had changed his mind concerning his conviction
that marriage was unwise for a Mountie.

I couldn't understand how a man could be so stubborn,
and if I hadn't already learned to love him so much, I would
angrily and painfully have dismissed him from my thoughts.

Reluctantly I packed my bags and prepared for my trip
back to Pine Springs. Mr. Laverly had promised to have someone meet my train at Lacombe.

I spent the entire long journey trying to make some sense out of my feelings for Wynn. It was not the least bit difficult
for me to understand why a woman would fall for such a
man-but why she should persist against such an obvious
stone wall of stubborn determination to remain single was
beyond me. Perhaps, I reasoned, I preferred his polite, enjoyable company to the alternative of not being with him at all.

Bill Laverly stood on the platform, his smile stretched
from ear to ear, when I descended from the train. He was the
last person I wanted to see, but what could I do? He loaded my
suitcases and tucked me in with a bearskin rug, taking far too
much time in the process, I thought.

He had talked his father into buying a light cutter and I
knew, before we even moved out of the town, that I was in for
the ride of my life. Bill cracked a whip over the team, and we
jerked away in a swirl of snow, bells jingling and horses snorting. My only consolation was that the faster we went, the sooner I would be home and away from the company of this grinning, speed-mad man.

He seemed to be continually looking at me and adjusting
the bearskins, but when he dared to put his arm across the
back of the seat behind me, I drew the line. Drawing myself
away from him, I informed him that I would be much more
comfortable if he used both hands to guide the racing team.

As we entered the lane to the teacherage, I noticed smoke
coming from the chimney. Surely Bill hadn't lit the fire before
he left, was my first thought. Bill might like a pretty face, but
thoughtful he was not.

After he had pulled the team to a snow-swirling stop, he
drew out my suitcases, handed them to me and then with a
scraping swish, he spun the cutter around and headed his galloping team for home. "See ya!" he yelled over his shoulder,
his wide grin still spread across his face.

When I entered the little house it was easy to tell who had
been there. The fire was burning cheerily, foodstuffs were arranged neatly on the cupboard, and my table was adorned
with fresh coffeecake--Anna's specialty. A small pot of stew
simmered near the back of the stove and the teakettle
hummed merrily. How nice to be welcomed home, and how cold and miserable it would have been to enter the house that
had seen no occupant or fire for two weeks.

While I ate the hot stew and fresh bread, my mind did a
complete shift. I was anxious to get back to my students and
the classroom. Faces flashed before me, and I thought of the
achievements and the needs of each one. I was proud of my
students. They had already accomplished so much in the
short time that we had been together. I promised that I would
do my very best for them in the months that lay ahead.

The pupils seemed to share my enthusiasm. The next few
months went very quickly, with our total concentration being
given to our teaching and learning.

In March we had a visit from the district inspector. I don't
know who was more nervous-my students or I.

Mr. Matthews, a tall, thin man with a pinched face, quick,
dark eyes, and a high-pitched voice, spoke loudly, as though
that would give him added authority. All the while that I
taught that day, I could feel those sharp eyes on me, boring,
probing, and even daring me. By lunch hour I was already exhausted, but he pulled a bench up close to my desk and began
questioning me.

In the afternoon he shifted his attention to my pupils,
quizzing them and calling on them to work sums or read a passage. I watched the poor, frightened children squirm and
sweat, and I wished, for their sakes as well as my own, that the
man would go away. Eventually he did, and all of us sighed
and then laughed together in an effort to shake off our tension.
I dismissed the class early for home.

The next day I had another visitor. Wynn had come to see
Phil and Lydia, so he stopped by the school to deliver a note
from Mary. I wished that I could invite him to the teacherage
for supper, or at least tea, but I knew that such was forbidden
and perhaps unwise, as well. We chatted of general things, and
he waited while I wrote a quick note for him to take back to Mary. He had not yet received another posting. Just as my
heart sang at the news, he stilled the song by informing me
that it was bound to come, though he knew not when. One of
the other fellows had just left for Lac La Biche, he said, and
another Mountie who had been in Calgary for three years had
just received a posting to Grouard, on Lesser Slave Lake.

"Did they have families?" I asked-not "wives," but
"families"--hoping that Wynn would not guess my thoughts.

"McKenzie did-a wife and a young son."

"Did they mind going?"

"She didn't seem to, hut she's been north before."

One point for me, I thought. He had had to admit that
there was at least one woman who didn't mind going north
with her husband. But Wvnn went on.

"Aitcheson had a girl. When his posting came in, she
called off the wedding."

My heart sank.

I wanted to say, "Well, some women can handle it-others
can't." But I said nothing.

When Wynn left, he surprised me by giving me a compliment, at least it seemed like one to me.

"I think that this country life must agree with you, Elizabeth. You look more healthy and pretty every time I see you."

Healthy and pretty! It wasn't exactly as if he had declared
me beautiful, but it was close-and coming from Wynn, who
wasn't given to flattery, I decided to regard it as special.

I hummed happily after he had left.

Easter's arrival nearly caught me unawares, in the midst of
my busyness. I packed for a trip to Jon and Mary's, anticipating a wonderful time in the city. I did enjoy the change and
being with my family, but the fact that Wynn was spending
time at Regina took much of the pleasure out of my holiday.

Mary delighted in letting slip frequent references to Wynn
and his obvious high regard for me. I couldn't see how Mary
could come to such conclusions, and I did wish that she would
stop her nonsense. She seemed to be of the opinion that if I'd
just show Wynn that I truly cared for him, he would shelve all his previous opinions regarding marriage and declare his undying love. I wasn't about to throw myself at any man, Wynn
Delaney included; and besides, I was convinced that to do so
would accomplish nothing, other than making a complete fool
of myself.

I spent the week shopping, reading, loafing, playing with
the children and snuggling Baby Elizabeth. At the end of the
week I was eager to return to the classroom. I had not asked
Mr. Laverly for a ride from the Lacombe station, nor even informed him of the train on which I would arrive. My plan was
to hire Pearlie's father to drive me out in his automobile.
When I alighted from the train I discovered that the Clarks
were in town. They kindly offered me a ride, which I gladly accepted.

Upon arriving at my teacherage, I built my own fire, fixed
a simple supper and then went to the schoolhouse. I wanted to
get an early start on lesson preparations for the last few weeks
of the school term.

Wynn mailed me a book-or rather, a manual, which I
imagined was used by the North West Mounted Police. It contained many facts about Alberta, including its vegetation, animals and their behavior, the peoples and their way of life and
industry. I found it fascinating-especially since it had come
from Wynn. His short note had stated that he thought I might
find the information interesting and helpful. I did. I used
much of the book in my classes. The students and I took advantage of the early spring weather to go on a nature hike and
identify the growth according to the manual.