[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart (3 page)

I went through the entire day with a seriousness and intent
unfamiliar even to me. Never before had I put myself so totally into my lessons, to make them interesting and understandable. At the end of the day I was exhausted, so I decided to
clean the blackboards and go home. Usually I spent an hour or
so in preparation for the next day's lessons, but I just didn't
feel up to it this time. I hurriedly dusted off the erasers,
shoved some lesson books into my bag, securely fastened the
classroom door behind me, and left the three-story building.

The walk home refreshed me somewhat; I even saw the
robin with whom I had sung a duet that morning! I felt more
like myself as I climbed our front steps and let myself in.
Mother was in the small sunroom pouring tea that Martha,
our maid, had brought. She didn't even seem surprised to see
me home early.

"Lay aside your hat and join me," she called. I detected
excitement in her voice.

I placed my light shawl and hat on the hall table and took a
chair opposite Mother. I felt I could use a cup of strong, hot
tea.

"I got a letter from Jonathan," Mother announced as she
handed me my cup.

I assumed then that her excitement was due to Jonathan's
letter, or the news that it contained.

Jonathan was still special to Mother. Being her firstborn
and only child from her first marriage, he was also her first
love in many ways. Julie had on occasion suggested that
Mother loved Jonathan more than the rest of us. I tried to convince Julie that Mother did not love him more-just differently.

I often thought how difficult it must have been for her to
give him up, to let him go. Jonathan had been just nineteen
when he decided that he must go west. I was only four years
old at the time and too young to really understand it all, but I
had been aware after he left that something was different
about our home, about Mother, though she tried hard not to let it affect the rest of us. Three months after Jonathan had
left, baby Matthew had arrived, and Mother's world had taken on new meaning. Yet not even Matt had taken Jonathan's
place in her heart.

And now Mother sat opposite me, calmly serving tea,
though I could tell that she felt anything but calm. Whatever
the news in Jonathan's letter, I sensed that Mother was excited rather than concerned, so her tenseness did not frighten
me.

"How is he?" I asked, choosing to let Mother pick her own
time and words for revealing her excitement.

"Oh, just fine. The family is well. Mary is feeling fine. She
is due soon now. Jonathan's lumber business is growing. He
had to hire another clerk last month."

It all sounded good. I was happy for this older brother
whom I barely remembered, vet somehow I felt that Mother's
present mood did not stem from any of the facts that she had
so hurriedly stated. I mumbled a polite response about being
glad for Jonathan's good fortune and sipped my tea. I did wish
that Mother would get to the point.

Mother didn't even lift her cup; instead, she reached into
the bosom of her gown and removed Jonathan's recent letter.
We were all used to her doing that. Whenever a letter from
Jonathan arrived, she would read it through a number of times
and then tuck it in the front of her dress. She carried it around
with her for days and would pull it forth and reread it whenever time allowed.

She carefully unfolded it now. But rather than pass it to
me as she normally did, she began to hurriedly read aloud.
She passed quickly through Jonathan's greetings as though
she was anxious to get to the real heart of the letter. As I continued to sip my tea, I could hear the excitement growing in
her voice. She suddenly slowed down, and I knew that she intended for me to hear and understand every word.

" `There is no end to opportunities here in the West. I know
several men who came out with nothing and who now have
great homes and flourishing businesses. All that one needs is
determination, stamina and a bit of horse sense.' "

Surely Mother isn't contemplating urging Papa to moue
West was the foolish thought that popped into my mind.
Mother read on.

" `I have given a great deal of thought to my family lately.
It would be so good to have one of my own here. I miss you all
so much. Especially you, Mother, but you know that.

" `It's easy to think of the West as a man's land, and so it
is; but there are plenty of opportunities here for women as
well. And I might add that we in the West realize that if' we are
to grow strong, we need fine young women to make homes for
our men and ensure proper families for our future.' "

I must have grimaced some as I thought, What a cold, calculating watt to look at marriage. But Mother continued without interruption-I had missed a few words.

" ... so I thought of Elizabeth.'

Confusing thoughts exploded in my mind. Elizabeth? Me?
Me WHAT? Is he suggesting that I go bargain-hunting for
some western shopkeeper or backwoods rancher for a husband? Not me! Never! Never! I felt that I would rather die
first.

The blood had drained from my face as I started to rise
from my chair. "Never," I whispered to myself. But Mother
had paid no attention to my soft gasp and hurried on.

" `Teachers are sorely needed here. Many mothers in
country areas still must tutor their children. But these women
have little time and no training. We are anxious to change all
of that. We want our next generations to be well educated, because in the future we hope to pick the leaders of our new
province from among our own.

" `You say that Elizabeth is a fine teacher and a sensible
young woman-and I am sure that she is. I talked today with a
school superintendent whom I know. He is short of teachers.
and some of those that he does have, he would replace if he
could. He says that if Elizabeth is willing to come west, he
would gratefully give her a position, and, as I said before, it
would be so good to have someone from my family here.' "

Stunned, I watched Mother's eyes continue on down the
page, but she was reading silently now. I got the impression
that. I was temporarily forgotten and that her thoughts were with her beloved son Jonathan somewhere out West.

I was glad for those few moments to compose myself before
I had to meet her eyes again. Jonathan was actually proposing
that I go west. For what? Before he had suggested the teaching
opportunities, he had written that they needed young women
to "ensure proper families." Well, I in no way intended to help
them do that. Definitely not!

I hoped that Mother wouldn't be too hard on Jonathan
when she replied to the letter. I knew that he had meant well,
though he must have known that our mother would never
agree to a daughter of hers, on the pretense of teaching, going
off to the wilds to find herself a man. Even if that isn't Jonathan's intent at all, I reasoned, and he is simply looking for
more teachers, I have a perfectly good teaching position right
where I am.

Mother finished reading Jonathan's rather lengthy letter
and again tucked it in her bosom. Her tea had grown cold, but
she absently reached for her cup and sipped from it with a faraway look in her eyes. I was on the verge of, "Look, Mother,
don't let it upset you. Jonathan meant well, but you needn't
fear. I have no intention of taking it seriously, . . ." when she
lifted her eyes from her cup and looked directly at me. I expected a mild reprimand of Jonathan, but instead she said
simply, "Well?" She smiled at me, and I could easily detect
eagerness in her voice.

I was startled and flustered.

"Well?" I questioned back, wondering just what she
meant. I couldn't understand Mother's rather extraordinary
reaction to Jonathan's preposterous proposal. Is she actually
thinking that I would even glue the matter consideration? How
CAN she? Surely she must see that it is totally ... And then
in a flash it came to me. I was to be Mother's love-offering to
Jonathan, his "piece-of-the-family" presented to him over the
miles. Somehow my going west to be with him would bring
comfort to my mother's heart.

I loved her. She was a dear mother. Never would I wish to
hurt her. I didn't dare bluntly blurt out that the whole idea
was outlandish and that Jonathan had been foolish even to
suggest it. With Mother sitting there before me, the "well" still lingering in her gaze, I couldn't say no. But could I say
yes? Definitely not. But I could say maybe, until I had taken
time to think this whole thing through, to sort it out in my
mind, and to plan some way I could get out of it without hurting my mother.

"Well-it's-it's such a surprise. I'd-I'd never thought of
the possibility of leaving-of going ..."

My mind fumbled about for words but found none to still
the look of concern creeping into Mother's eyes. I willed my
confused mind into control and hurried on.

"It sounds-interesting-very interesting." I tried to put
some sparkle into my voice, but it. was difficult when I could
hardly get the words past my tight throat.

Mother relaxed some, and her eves began to shine again. It
was a moment before I realized that they were bright with
unshed tears. I felt almost panicky. I couldn't disappoint
her-at least not at the moment. I tried to swallow away the
lump in my throat and forced a smile as I put down the fragile
china cup.

"It's-well-I'll-I'll do some thinking about it and
we'll-well, we'll see...."

Mother reached out and touched my hand. The tears
spilled a bit from her eyes, wetting her dark lashes and dropping onto her cheeks.

"Beth." she said, "there is no one whom I would rather
send to Jonathan than you."

I was touched, but frightened. I swallowed hard again, attempted another smile and rose from my chair. After a light
kiss on Mother's forehead, I excused myself. I had to get away,
alone, where I could think. My whole world was spinning
around, and I felt that if I didn't soon get control of things, I
would end up hurling off somewhere into space.

I was willing to consider being Jonathan's love-packagefrom-home. for Mother's sake. Yes, I was even willing to consider teaching out West. But as for marrying some uncouth,
unkempt man out of the frontier, there I drew a definite, solid
line. Never!

Later that evening, Papa knocked quietly at my door. I had
been trying to read in bed, a luxury that I normally enjoyed, but somehow Jane Austen's young women had failed to intrigue me.

He walked to my window and stood looking out at the
quietness of the city. The street lamps flickered softly against
the gathering darkness. I waited for him to speak; but when he
said nothing, I laid aside my book, pushed myself up to a sitting position, and asked softly, "You've talked to Mother?"

He cleared his throat and turned from the window. He still
didn't speak just nodded his head.

"And what do you think?" I asked, secretly hoping that he
would exclaim that the whole, idea was outrageous and unthinkable. He didn't.

"Well-," he said, pulling up a chair beside my bed, "at
first it was a bit of a shock. But after I thought it through for a
while, I began to understand why your mother is rather excited about the whole thing. I guess it could be an adventure for
you, Elizabeth, and, it would seem, not too risky a one."

"Then you think I should-"

"Consider it? Yes, consider it. Go? Not necessarily. Only
you will be able to decide that. You know that you are loved
and wanted here, but should you want this-this new experience, we will not hold you back."

"I don't know, Papa. It's all so-so new. I don't know what
to think about it."

"Elizabeth, we trust you to make the right decision, for
You. Your mother and I have agreed to abide by it. Whatever
you decide, we want it to be what you feel you should do. Your
mother, as much as she would love to see you go to Jonathan,
does not want you to feel pressured to do so if it's not what you
want. She asked me to tell you that, Elizabeth. She is afraid
that your loyalty and desire to please her might lead you to go
for her sake. That's not enough reason to make such a lifechanging decision, Elizabeth."

"Oh, Papa! Right now I'm all butterflies. I never
dreamed-"

"Don't hurry. my dear. Such a decision needs much careful thinking and praying. Your mother and I will be standing
behind you."

"Thank you, Papa."

He kissed my forehead and squeezed my hand.

"Whatever you decide... he whispered as he left my
room.

I didn't pick up Jane Austen's book again. I knew that now
for certain I couldn't concentrate on the words. So I pulled the
chain to put out the lamp and punched my pillows into what I
hoped would be a sleep-inducing position. With the covers
tucked carefully about me, I settled down for the night. It
didn't work. It was a long time until I was able to fall asleep.

The next few days were full of soul searching. I was so
preoccupied that I sometimes wondered if I were actually
teaching my students. They didn't seem to notice any difference in me, so I guess that I was at least going through the
proper motions.

As she promised, Mother didn't press me; but I could sense
that she was anxiously waiting for my decision. I knew that
she was praying too. I did hope that she truly was leaving it to
the Father's will and not merely pleading for Him to "send me
forth."

I wavered-which was unusual for me. One moment I
would think of all those that I loved: my family, my students,
my church friends: and I would inwardly cry out, "I can't go, I
just can't!" The next instant I would think of that part of my
family in the West. Something invisible was drawing me to
the older brother whom I had never really known. I also
thought of all those children without a teacher, and I knew
that they, too, wished to learn. I even considered the great adventure that this new opportunity held, and I would find myself reasoning, Why not? Maybe this is the answer to the restlessness within me. Maybe I should go....