“He’s always been like that,” she found herself saying.
“Conscientious and caring.”
Laray hung up the dish towel. “I’d add another ‘c’ word.
Confident. Not . . . not arrogant. But confident. It makes a big difference when your boss is sure of himself. I’ve never seen him in a flap yet. Delaney—Henry just calmly goes about doing whatever it is that needs to be done.”
Christine wrung out the dishcloth, thinking about what Laray had said. She knew that traditionally the Mounties called each other by their last names. She briefly wondered if “Laray” was his first or last name. Then she said, “I’ve never really thought about Henry that way—but you’re right. Maybe he learned that from Dad. That’s the way Dad has always been.”
“You have great folks.”
Christine nodded. “They are.”
“I lost my dad when I was six.” It was said without emotion, yet the statement tore at Christine’s heart. An image of little Danny flashed through her mind. What he had lost—and now had found.
“What happened?”
“He was a logger. Got caught in a jam.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Mom married again—when I was seven.”
Christine waited. Was the new father good—or bad— news?
“He was a good guy. Even saw that we got to church.”
Relieved, she moved to place the dried dishes back in the cupboard.
“We got along okay—but it wasn’t the same as having my dad. He fed us and clothed us and never mistreated us—but he didn’t give us much attention. Guess that would have been too much to expect. Eventually there were five more kids added to the family. That’s about as thin as love can spread.”
Christine wished to argue, but she didn’t know what to say or how to say it.
“Anyway, we made out okay. I’ve got two older sisters and an older brother and another two sisters younger than me. That was in the
first
family. We all turned out all right.”
“That’s a big family,” commented Christine, mentally doing the arithmetic. “Eleven children. Wow!”
“It was a houseful.”
Danny returned with a picture book. “Did you see this big truck? It hauls logs and stuff.” He thrust the book toward Laray.
“Let’s take a look.”
They left the kitchen together, and Christine finished putting away the dishes and slowly removed her apron. She wondered what they were going to do with the rest of the evening. Surely Laray was not expecting to be entertained. She could hear him now adding another log to the fire. With a deep breath she steeled herself and walked in to join them.
She was surprised when he asked, “Anything you want to do? I’d be glad to look after Danny if you want to step out for some fresh air—or anything.”
Christine thought quickly. She would welcome this unexpected “time off ”—but she had no idea how she might use the opportunity. The stores were by now all closed for the day. There was really no one she knew here whom she wished to visit. It seemed foolish to just go for a walk in the dark. She finally shook her head.
“Then maybe we should all go for a ride. The roads are good. We could drive to the outlook point and show Danny the stars. I used to be a real nut about the night sky when I was growing up. I spent hours looking for the different constellations. No northern lights here, but we can see some stars—like you could reach up and touch them.”
Christine started to decline, but Danny was already cheering. What good excuse did she have for disappointing him?
She nodded, and Danny ran for his coat and boots.
It turned out to be a pleasant enough evening. Once they left the lights of the town, the stars seemed to pop out of the blackness. The farther they traveled, the brighter the stars became.
“Wow,” said Danny, leaning back to gaze upward out his window. “They are really big. And so many. Did you know there were so many?”
Laray smiled.
“Do you think there are hundreds?” Danny continued.
“Way more than hundreds.”
“Did you count them?”
“No one has counted them.”
“Bet God has.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Do they got names?”
“Yeah, I think many of them do. Some were named even before Job’s time. He talks about them in the Bible, chapter nine. Orion. The Bear. Pleiades. I’ll show you.”
Christine was impressed with Laray’s knowledge of the Scriptures.
Laray pulled over and stopped the car. From their vantage point, the whole canopy above was on display. Not a cloud hid from view any of the myriad of stars that twinkled above them.
“Now, if we just had us some northern lights it would be about perfect,” Laray commented.
“Perfect,” repeated Christine.
“What are north’ren lights?”
“Northern,” Christine explained. “In the North. Lights. Special lights that God has placed in the skies. They are all colors and they dance and . . . they aren’t like the stars that just twinkle. They are . . . are whole . . . whole sheets of light that change and move and . . .” Christine stopped. How did one explain the northern lights to a small boy?
“Like lightning?”
“Something like lightning . . . but different. I guess there is really nothing like them to compare them to.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“Maybe one day your daddy—or your grandpa—can take you there.”
“I’d like that.”
Christine was quick to caution, “That’s not a promise. That was just a . . . a maybe . . . someday.”
Danny nodded solemnly. Christine hoped he understood.
The astronomy lesson began in earnest with Laray pointing out and naming the various visible stars and planets. Christine was amazed at how much he knew. To help Danny locate what he was pointing to, he drew diagrams in the snow. “And this is Orion. The star points are like this and the outline of the hunter is here—like this.”
Danny looked from the diagram to the skies. “I can see it,” he shouted. “I see him. Right there. See.”
“Look,” Christine cried as a star went streaking down through the sky, leaving a long, bright tail in its wake. “A falling star.”
Danny stood openmouthed until the last glimmer of light died away.
“Why did it do that?” He turned to Laray.
“I don’t think anyone knows for sure.”
“Where did it go?”
“It burns out—as it falls.”
“Now God doesn’t have that one anymore.” Danny sounded so sad that Christine found herself reaching an arm around his shoulder. Even Laray seemed affected by the young boy’s disappointment. It would not do to tell Danny that God had millions of stars. That one really didn’t matter. Instead, Laray wisely turned the small boy’s attention back to the ones still there.
Laray finally checked his watch. “Guess it’s your bedtime.” Christine couldn’t believe how quickly the time had slipped by.
Danny knew better than to object. “Can we do this again?” he asked instead.
“Sure. Why not? The stars are up there every night.”
“Sometimes we can’t see them.”
Laray took Danny’s hand. “Sometimes we can’t—but they’re there all the same.”
It was a quiet trip back to town. Laray did not suggest that he come in with them. He walked the two up to the door and waited until Christine had turned on the light, then bid them a good-night.
Danny was washed and pajama-clad and tucked in bed.
Christine smiled at his evening prayer. Besides his usual entreaties, he had added one more. “And, God, please don’t let too many of your stars fall, ’cause I like to look at them.”
Christine kissed his cheek and tucked the covers around his chin.
Back in the living room she stirred up the fire and fed it another log. Not for the warmth needed, but for the comfort. For some reason she could not explain, she felt strangely lonely. She wondered if it had something to do with that falling star that had just been lost forever.
Laray called the next day. “Since you were so kind and invited me to supper last night, I thought I should take you and Danny out tonight. How about it?”
It sounded appealing, but even as the words of acceptance were on her lips she wondered if she was being wise.
“From now on I have the evening shift until your brother is back again. This would be my only chance.”
That settled it. She could not turn him down.
“That would be very nice,” she heard herself saying.
“Good. I’ll pick you up about six. Sound okay?”
“That will be fine.”
Whether it was the fact that Christine did not have to busy her mind or her hands with supper preparations—or some other reason—it turned out to be a very long day.
She fussed over what to wear. She didn’t want Laray to assume she thought this was an actual
date
. Nor did she wish to look so everyday that he might feel dinner out was unappreciated. At length she chose a black skirt and blue sweater. She left her hair down but clipped it back from her face. She knew it was Henry’s favorite way for her to wear it.
She dressed Danny in a newer outfit, answering his many questions about why they were eating out instead of in the kitchen, laid their coats by the door, and prepared to wait.
A few minutes before six, the telephone rang. Henry was just checking. How was everything going? Good. And Amber wished to speak with Danny.
Christine handed the receiver to an excited Danny, who immediately launched into a full account of all of the good times he’d been having with Constable Laray. Christine felt her face getting warmer by the minute. It sounded dreadful.
“And we are going out to the . . . the cafe
place. In his patrol car. Tonight. He said.”
Christine did not know if she should ask for the phone again so she might explain, or simply to retreat in humiliation.
When Danny did hand the receiver to her, it was Henry back on the line.
“Sounds like you’re being well taken care of.”
Christine felt her face flush even more. “Laray stopped by last night to see how we are doing. Supper was almost ready, so we invited him to join us. He and Danny played cars while I got the food on the table. Then we took a drive to show Danny the stars.”
“Good,” said Henry, but Christine could not stop herself from hurriedly adding, “He offered to take us out tonight—as a payback.”
“He has to pay back?”
“No, of course not. But he . . . he thinks he does.”
Christine heard steps coming up the walk. She didn’t know whether to mention the fact to Henry or hope he’d quickly hang up. Danny settled it for her.
“He’s here!” he called loudly. “Constable Laray is here.”
“He’s there now?” asked Henry.
Christine put a hand to her hot cheek. “He . . . he’s just arriving.” Danny was already opening the door.
“Good. I’ll speak with him,” Henry said. “Save me another call.”
By the time the two men had finished talking police business, Christine had managed to get herself in hand. The flush had left her cheeks, and her hands had stopped their trembling.
Still, she wished with all her heart that she had not accepted this invitation.
At the small restaurant, she was careful to put Danny next to her on her side of the table. She soon lamented her decision. That put Laray directly across from her. She felt his eyes on her even when she was not looking directly at him.
They ordered the pork chops with mushroom sauce, deciding it had the best chance of not being too spicy.
Danny thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It was obvious he was not used to eating out. When Laray gave him his own choice of dessert, he was almost beside himself. He finally settled for the strawberry ice cream on lemon pie. It sounded like a strange combination to Christine, and she shook her head as she watched the small boy dig in.
“Well, maybe he’s discovered something,” Laray said in answer, his voice low.
Back at the house, Laray once again did not suggest coming in, even though Danny coaxed him to come play cars. “The boss will be home in a few days,” was his answer. “I have to be sure everything is shipshape.”
“What’s shipshape?”
“In good order. Like your aunt Christine keeps your house.”
Danny was satisfied.
“When can you come play cars?”
“Well—that’s hard to say. I have to work pretty steady now until your dad gets home.”
“Aww.” Danny’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, and his eyes went to the floor.
“But, hey—we’ll play cars again. You can count on it.” Laray gave Danny a playful punch on the shoulder.
“I like him,” Danny said as the door closed behind them. Christine had no comment. The truth was, she had not been able to sort out how she felt about Laray. She had not felt so agitated or confused since those last unsettling weeks with Boyd.
Henry and Amber arrived home to wild whoops and many hugs. Danny was ready to settle in with his new dad. Even so, he was not quite ready to give up his auntie Christine.
“Can Auntie Christine stay too?” he asked his father.
“That would be very nice,” answered Henry, “but I think Auntie Christine has things to do.”
Danny turned pleading eyes her way. “Do you?”
Christine pulled the small boy close. “Your dad and mommy are home now. You are all together. It’s time for me to go back to the city and find a job.”