Where Courage Calls: A When Calls the Heart Novel (5 page)

W
ITH
ONLY
BREAKFAST
ACCOMPLISHED
and no other activity—not even a Sunday service—to fill her hours until dinner would be served at noon, Beth’s day returned to boredom. She stared out at the enormous stretch of prairie and imagined her family on a pleasant ride to church, seating themselves together on the same pew they all had shared since the sisters were little girls, joining in with the singing—which Beth had always loved—and listening to the message . . .
without me
, she couldn’t help but add as she finished the memory.

Somehow she managed to make it to noon and hurried to arrive early at the dining car and hopefully miss her appointed escort. She had eaten and returned to her compartment without crossing Edward’s path. But when evening finally rolled around, she was required to once more accept his company for supper. They were seated with two gentlemen traveling west on business, and a grateful Beth allowed the three to carry most of the conversation, nodding politely and smiling at what she hoped were appropriate moments.

In awkward silence Edward escorted her back to her cabin,
where she managed to thank him for his attentions. But before she could excuse herself and close the door, he reached out a hand to gently grasp her elbow. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I should not have spoken to you as I did this morning. I didn’t intend— I wasn’t trying to . . .” He struggled for words and finished with a faltering “I
am
sorry.”

Lifting her face to search his, Beth was surprised at the sincerity she saw there. It was so unexpected she also was at a loss for words. “I see. It’s fine. I accept your apology—I do.”

“So we’re still . . . friends?” He wore an expression she could not remember ever seeing on his face before.

“Friends?” she answered. “We’re still—that is to say, nothing has changed as far as I am concerned.” Beth was surprised he would make such a claim. She had never considered him anything more than a son of her parents’ friends.
And
a rather obnoxious one at that
, she couldn’t help but silently add.

His relief at her forgiveness was obvious. “We arrive in Lethbridge tomorrow. Please wait here until I’ve made arrangements for our luggage. I’d at least like to be helpful there, as I’ve been a poor traveling companion so far.”

She smiled but did not disagree with his assessment. “Yes, of course.”

“Then I’ll see you for breakfast,” he pressed again, rather anxiously.

Confused by this sudden change in him, Beth dropped her gaze. “Yes, I’ll be ready again at eight.”

He released her arm, stepped back just a little, and nodded his acknowledgment.

After breakfast the next morning, Beth hurried to gather up the last of her belongings and tuck them into the suitcase
she already had mostly filled. The porter had returned her laundered clothing when he prepared the bed last night. Taking up the slip of paper with Father’s verse, she folded it until it was tiny enough to tuck inside her locket. She was just able to close its latch. She patted the necklace in place, grateful once more for the treasured truth it held.

The train pulled into Lethbridge with whistles, squealing of steel on steel, and lots of steam. Edward’s knock came soon afterward. Though she greeted him amiably enough, he remained somewhat remote. He nodded briefly and reached to lift her suitcase. She fell in line behind him with her handbag safely at her side. Despite his unexplained demeanor, she was pleased that Edward was there to assist her. She quickly followed, free from worries about finding her way and making her own arrangements.

She took the last, long step down to solid ground, grateful for Edward’s helping hand. She was tired and depleted by her travels thus far. Beth hoped some of that might be soothed away by a hot bath in the hotel.

Edward had arranged for a porter, and her two large trunks were already loaded on a wheeled cart, as well as what she assumed to be Edward’s duffel. They added her suitcase to the stack, and Edward pushed a tip into the man’s ready hand.

“See that these are delivered to the Alpine View Inn immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Something about the man’s tone and shifting eyes caught Beth’s attention, and she frowned and turned to ask Edward about him.

But Edward already had placed his hand behind her back and was guiding her toward the train station. “We’ll go first to the hotel. That should give us time to wash up and change before lunch. Then I hope we can take a taxi out of the city
just a little way. I’m told there is an excellent view of the mountains from a ridge nearby, and I would also like to see the famed Lethbridge railroad bridge. I read that it’s the longest in Canada—or anywhere.” He sounded as if he had some claim to it all—at the very least, he seemed proud to be able to share his knowledge. “I shall be required to report to my post after lunch, but when I return we should still have much of the afternoon to spend together.”

A wave of his extended arm and a taxicab slid into place before them. Edward reached for the door and Beth slid across the seat. They set off for the hotel, Beth watching out the window beside her. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the up-to-date city—paved roads, modern buildings, and a lovely central garden. Eventually turning away from the city center, the taxi bumped along on dirt roads, swerving to avoid other vehicles and periodically a rider on horseback. Now Beth could see what seemed to her to be the true West.

The Alpine View Inn did not actually look out toward the mountains—at least not that Beth could tell. But it was large and tidy and looked like a suitable place to lodge. In short order she was shown to her room and told which door in the long hallway led to a shared washroom. There would be no leisurely soak in a tub, but at least she could freshen up a bit. The thought of a basin of water that did not slosh from side to side brought an amused smile to her lips. Beth could now appreciate what luxury was to be found in simply a room on terra firma—another blessing.

She disliked the idea of remaining in the clothing she had donned that morning, but the porter had not yet arrived with her suitcase and trunks. What she was wearing would simply have to suffice. At least her clothes had been fresh and clean when she had begun the day, though wrinkled from the suitcase.

Having accomplished the immediate task, Beth stretched out on the bed to wait for her bags. Mentally she calculated what the hotel would cost and added to that what she had already spent while on the train. She idly wondered if there were things she should buy while she was still near modern stores.

At last there came a loud knock at the door. “Elizabeth, it’s Edward,” she heard. She rose and crossed the room, but before she could open it, she heard again, “Elizabeth, are you there?” Something in Edward’s tone hinted at panic.

She quickly opened the door and stepped aside as Edward strode into the room.

“He’s gone.”

“Who—?”

“The man who took our bags, your trunks. He’s stolen everything!”

Beth couldn’t move or speak.

Edward raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “I don’t understand it! He looked just like all the others. But it turns out he doesn’t work for the station. He is just a—just a common thief!”

Now Beth was frantic too. “Where did he go? Can you find him?”

Edward threw his hands up in the air. “If I could find him, don’t you think I would have already done so?”

“There’s no reason to be short with me,” Beth said evenly. But she couldn’t help but add, “I didn’t select him.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, I suppose?”

Beth swallowed her reply, her mind a jumble of questions. How could they find him? What could be done? Who could help? Edward obviously was beside himself, uncertain how to proceed. Beth’s next question escaped before she realized its full import. “Did you contact the police?”

Edward seemed frozen in place. He did not turn to look at her nor did he utter a sound. She watched him straighten, draw back his shoulders, and pull down the bottom edges of his red jacket. He strode toward the door and grasped the handle. “I shall go to the post and report the theft.” And he was gone.

Beth stared at the closed door and her hand went to her mouth.
What will
it be like for the newly arrived RCMP to be
forced to admit he has been duped?
She shook her head.
Poor Edward! He will be utterly humiliated.
She actually felt sorry for him, she truly did. But the picture in her mind of him walking into his new headquarters, hat in hand, to report a theft that had been perpetrated against him while dressed in full uniform was almost amusing.

It was not until she began to do a mental inventory of the contents of her luggage that Beth ceased to see any humor in her situation. All her clothes were gone. But more than that, her books and teaching materials.
Oh no—my violin!
Tears spilled over as she remembered that her most cherished possession of all—Father’s compass—had been taken as well. Sobs now shook her body, and her legs gave way. She crumpled into a heap beside the bed, her hands clutching at the spread, and wept until she had no more tears.

T
HERE
HAD
NEVER
BEEN
A
TIME
when Beth had found Edward to be so humbled. It had been necessary for her to return with him to the RCMP post to make a full report of her missing belongings, and Beth had succeeded in doing so rather stoically despite her headache. Edward sat dejectedly on a bench not far away, his head hung in shame as she quietly enumerated each item now lost. She was thankful she actually had made a list for reference as she packed, fearful she might miss something, and tucked it in her handbag.

Julie had teased,
“Bethie the organizer. Bethie the meticulous.”
But Beth had responded that she could always think better with a pen in her hand. Julie had laughed and said,
“I do hope you never run out of paper
or ink.”

But right now Beth had to think about all the things besides paper and ink she had run out of. With her head aching and her mind swirling with emotions, she never would have been able to remember half of what had been in those two trunks without that list.

Edward waited silently, penitently, his eyes fixed on his
boots, and now feigning composure as Beth’s recital went on and on. She heaved a great sigh of relief when she finished and was excused. She thought she heard Edward sigh as well.

He rose and went over to the officer in charge, withdrew a paper from his coat pocket, and requested a telephone call to Elizabeth’s father. A clerk took his note and made arrangements with the operator. Beth noticed how Edward’s shoulders drooped as he delivered his subdued confession to her father, then turned solemnly and presented the receiver to Beth.

She knew she would not be able to control her emotions, but she reached for the telephone. Just the sound of Father’s voice would have been enough to elicit tears, present situation aside.

“I’m so sorry, Beth. I know this is tremendously difficult for you,” the beloved voice said.

Beth turned her back on the men around her, tucked the phone closer, and whispered in a trembling voice, “I miss you, Father.”

“I’m here, my darling. We all love you, and we understand how terrible this is for you. Truly, we are so sorry. But everything can be replaced. In no time at all this will be only an unpleasant memory. You’re safe, and that’s what truly matters.”

Her face crumpled as more tears wet her cheeks. “But we can’t replace the compass, Father. Nor the violin.”

His voice held calm and comfort. “Now, Beth dear, you know those are mere things. And all our worldly possessions are temporary at best. We can’t allow ourselves to make idols of anything. Even the compass—it’s not the item that’s important, it’s how it reminds us of our memories and our feelings for one another. And those can never be stolen.” He paused. “Beth?”

Even though her throat had tightened further, she forced a dutiful whisper, “Yes, Father.”

“I realize it’s a terrible shame. My heart aches for you just now. I know you’re upset, and that this will be a hardship—but this is life, my darling. These things will happen. You must choose to persist.” He was quiet for another moment. “Or else give up and come back home.”

Her brow furrowed, and she pressed a cool hand to her forehead, hoping to lessen the throbbing in her temples. “I can’t give up, Father.”

“No, of course not. I know you’re going to choose to persevere through this—and more. Beth, darling, without question there will be more for you to endure. Not a comforting thought right now, but each one of these tests of character and fortitude will prepare you for the next one.”

She could feel her emotions loosening their hold, her mind beginning to clear. His words were honest, loving, and best of all, true. In fact, he also could have reminded her that she had been warned—that he himself had cautioned her to expect that her new undertaking would be fraught with hardships. And she had boldly and naïvely asserted that she was ready for whatever they turned out to be. Here at the very first test of her wings, she had been reduced to a blubbering mess.

She gathered herself together. “I can endure this, Father. I know I can.”

“Yes, darling, you can. Do you remember the verse? That’s where you can find the strength, the wisdom to do what needs to be done.”

Her lip quivered, remembering the precious paper still safely tucked away in her locket. Her hand reached up to finger it once more. “Yes, Father—I mean, I did forget, but I do remember now.”

“Good. Keep it in mind, dear. You are never alone—and you always have God’s strength to draw upon. Not just on the days when you feel like you’ve reached your limit. We must each seek God first every day—in all things. When things are going well as well as dreadful.”

“Yes. Yes, I believe that.”

“I know we shouldn’t speak for very long. . . .” A pause, and then he coaxed softly, “Don’t be too hard on Edward, Beth. I’ve seen unfortunate things like this happen time and time again to men far more worldly-wise than he. It could have happened to anyone. You’ll forgive Edward, won’t you?”

She could not refuse him. “Yes, Father.” They talked only a short time more before saying their good-byes, Beth near tears once again. But her heart felt less heavy, her feelings more settled.

Beth and Edward spoke little as they ate their supper, and he was gone soon afterward. She returned to her room and through the long evening hours made another list of what she would need for the immediate future. She washed out her underthings, hoping they would be dry for wearing in the morning. She opened the second-floor window to capture some breezes, and hung the wet garments from the curtain rod. The morning would bring an opportunity to replace some of her possessions, she consoled herself. Father had assured her that Mother would take on the task of replacing and shipping the bulk of what she would need, but he had suggested that Beth gather what was available in Lethbridge for the time being.

She remembered how she and Mother had worked together to assemble all those items in the first place, so Mother would
well know what was lost. Beth shuddered to think how the event would be interpreted at home.
Is this the evidence Mother needs to
declare the whole venture a fiasco? Will there soon be
a letter—or even a telegram—with instructions for me
to return home?

Though Edward’s knock at the door came early the next morning, Beth was dressed and ready to begin a new day. But his first words stopped her short. “I’ve arranged for our travel on to Coal Valley. A car is waiting below.”

“Oh, I can’t leave just yet. There are some things I will need to purchase.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. We have time for just a quick breakfast, but then the car will be leaving. It’s some distance—”

“Then I shall have to make other arrangements,” she calmly said, standing her ground. “I have shopping that must be done today.”

Edward seemed equally determined. “I spent much of the evening finding this car and driver. You must believe me, there will be nothing else available for several more days. Your father instructed me to see that you arrive at Coal Valley today, and that is precisely what I plan to do.”

“But what about the things I need? I have nothing else but what I am wearing!”

His expression softened a little. “I’m very sorry, Elizabeth. But I
cannot
fail him again.” Then he added, somewhat feebly, “Surely there will be stores in your new town.”

Beth shook her head in despair, but she would not go against what Father had instructed. She grasped at the locket and whispered a little prayer that God would provide for her.

The road from Lethbridge across the prairies was long but rather pleasant. Beth watched in awe as the mountains
rose before her, looming larger on the western horizon with each hill they crested. She could see train tracks nearby—at times out of sight but always appearing again. Beth wondered why she had not been able to continue beyond Lethbridge by train. But she dared not raise the question in the current circumstances. Infrequently the road passed through a small town, and signs along the way pointed toward others not far from the road. Yet Beth was amazed by the vast stretches of land broken only by the occasional farm.

Once they reached the foothills of the mountain range, their way became more rugged and winding, weaving between wooded hills into a wide valley and finally angling upward, then down again between the mountains. The only other vehicles they encountered were large logging trucks with heavy loads, passing far too close to Beth’s window for comfort.

At last a small sign indicated Coal Valley to the right, and their vehicle turned off the main road. Soon swallowed by thick forests, this road wove its haphazard way through the valley and aimlessly ascended countless hills, only to wander back down again toward the river.

She had a sudden realization of how lost and disoriented she was. If she were required to find her way out again on her own, only the winding road would save her. Then she thought of her father’s compass, and it reopened the recent ache in her heart.

Edward leaned forward toward the driver, his face betraying his own concerns. “How often does your company send cars in and out of this place?” he queried.

“Oh,” the man said, scratching at his whiskers, “sometimes once a week—sometimes not that often. Depends.”

“On the weather? Or is it somewhat seasonal?”

The craggy face puckered in thought. “Oh, we don’t come
out here in winter,” he said. “Ain’t hardly nobody sends a car out then. Sometimes the coal company’ll push a truck through—but then, sometimes even the coal trains can’t make it.”

“Are there passenger trains available as well?” Beth dared ask.

“Naw, not out this way. Just a spur to carry out the coal, bring in supplies. The men from the company sometimes ride in the caboose—but they don’t take no passengers ever.”

Beth felt her heart drop. She wasn’t even there yet, and she already felt isolated and confined.
So I’ll never get out except by car . . . and
who knows when one will come.
Clutching at any handhold just to keep from bumping against Edward on the back seat, she stared ahead and tried not to picture what such a trip would be like on the slippery, slushy roads of winter. Much less in deep snow . . .

Finally, the trees thinned out a little to reveal a small cluster of buildings clinging to a hillside.

“This here’s it,” the driver announced and drew up to a stop in a swirl of dust.

Edward and the driver emerged from their side of the dusty vehicle. Edward hurried around and pulled Beth’s door open. She reached for her handbag and stepped out. For a moment she stood awkwardly, stretching her tired limbs as she assessed Coal Valley.

Main Street, if it could be labeled such, was a rutted dirt road, scarcely wide enough for two cars to pass. By the looks of things, though, Beth doubted there had ever been a need. To the left were two large buildings crowding unceremoniously against a rough boardwalk. One structure was broad and square, the other low and long, boasting large dirt-encrusted front windows and the appearance of some type of store.

Opposite was a two-story building skulking behind overgrown bushes, though a well-beaten path led to its front door. Stairs outside headed upward to what must be second-floor living quarters. Next, a vacant lot that may have once been someone’s garden, and beside that a large weathered house tucked behind a rickety picket fence. With no building’s surface having been painted for many years, if ever, it could have simply been a forgotten ghost town but for the thick odor of woodsmoke and the steady chugging of machinery not far away.

From every direction, the forest crowded close, as if to swallow the town whole. Just past the storefront the road curled downward along the face of the hill. Along this straight stretch of road was a series of small homes, duplicate in structure . . . and shabbiness.

Beth roused herself and noticed Edward also surveying the surroundings. He looked genuinely concerned. The driver waited motionless nearby.
Was he expecting something from them?
Beth glanced toward Edward again, assuming he would make a move to pay the driver. When he did not, she began to rummage in her handbag for the travel money Father had provided.