Endless Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  Madysen nodded. Then she looked toward Granddad’s room. “Has anyone told him?”

  “Not yet.” Havyn shook her head. “But Whitney asked me to go do that so he doesn’t worry. Especially with our guests here.”

  “Oh, Havyn. What are we going to do? There’s no place for those kids to stay except here.” There couldn’t have been worse timing for them to show up at the farm. “We can’t turn them out in the snow.”

  “I know, but I can’t deal with that at the moment. Whitney is in no shape—”

  The door opened, and their older sister poked her head out. “As loud as you two are, I’m sure the entire household has heard you.” Whitney lifted her chin. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. We had planned to let them have Mama’s room anyway, so just get them settled in.” Whitney turned to Madysen. “But would you mind sharing my room with me for a night or two? I don’t think I’m comfortable enough to be alone.” The words were so formal, so distant––and so unlike Whitney.

  “Of course.” Madysen wanted to say something more to reassure her sister, but the words wouldn’t come. Whitney closed the door, and a sigh escaped Madysen’s lips.

  Havyn lifted her shoulders. “All right then. I’ll go tell Granddad and make sure that there are clean linens in Mama’s room. I’ll meet you in Whit’s room tonight so the three of us can talk.”

  Madysen nodded. “I’ll go greet the . . . family.”

  Why was it so hard to say that word? These were her father’s children, same as she. But family conjured up images of the people whose photographs rested on the fireplace mantel. Or whose names were embroidered on Christmas stockings. The people with whom she’d shared twenty-some years of memories.

  Her father’s children were strangers.

  Same as John had once been.

  Madysen nodded at the thought. She’d had no trouble welcoming John to the farm. She’d had no dread, felt no need to find fault with him. So why did she feel those things now?

  She hugged herself. She could do this. Be hospitable. It wasn’t like she’d need to put up with them for long.

  Her heart began to pound. Could she leave Nome? Leave her sisters when everything was in such turmoil? Was the loss of her mother still so hard to bear that she was looking for a way to escape Mama’s empty room?

  Buddy painted a beautiful picture of what their life together would be. And she needed more life. Not all the grief and sadness. Winter was always difficult, but with Mama gone, the cold pierced Madysen to her bones. Everything seemed drab and gray. The only warmth was her time with Buddy and the rosy future he promised.

  Was it selfish to want to go, to leave the relentless grief of home?

  She continued pacing the hall. Answers eluded her. Instead, the questions chased each other in an unending circle inside her brain.

  If Mama were still here, what would she do?

  Madysen stopped cold.

  The answer was easy. Mama would love like Jesus loved. Because that was His command, to love as He loved the world. And He was willing to sacrifice Himself for everyone.

  Madysen inhaled and repeated to herself, “Love as Jesus loved. Love as Jesus loved. . . .”

  She kept it up as she went down the hall, out the door, and past the empty wagon to the big barn where voices sounded.

  Her dad looked at her as she approached. “Maddy.” He cocked his head to one side. “Is everything all right?”

  She pushed her emotions to the farthest corner of her heart. “It’s been a trying day, and we had an unfortunate event.” It sounded frosty, even to her own ears, but how else could she explain it? “Nothing for you to worry about, though. Did John show you around the farm?”

  “He sure did.” Dad beamed. “Didn’t he, kids? Won’t this be a great place to stay?”

  The two kids behind him were almost as tall as she but with far less meat on their frames. Their lips were pressed together, but they couldn’t hide the occasional tremble.

  Madysen put on a smile and stepped forward. “Hi, my name is Madysen, and I’m the youngest . . . well, I guess I’m not the youngest anymore. But I’m the youngest of the three of us . . . that is. Um . . . your older sisters.” Oh, help. What had she gotten herself into?

  The boy stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “I’m Elijah. But everyone calls me Eli. I’m fourteen. And this is my sister, Bethany. She’s twelve.”

  Madysen shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you both.” Funny, neither one of her new siblings had red hair. They both had brown.

  Probably because Mama was the one with red hair. Her heart twinged. Oh, Mama, we could use you now.

  “I’m Ruth.” A woman stepped out from the barn with John right behind her. He carried a couple of suitcases––they probably belonged to the woman.

  “I heard you say that you’re Madysen. My, how beautiful your hair is. I have always loved red hair, and just look at those curls! How lovely that you wear it down.”

  Was that a compliment . . . or something else? Something with an edge? Madysen reached back to tame her tresses. “I get horrendous headaches if I pull it up. It’s awfully heavy.” Why had she gone on like that? She didn’t have to defend herself to this woman. “I was just noticing Eli and Bethany have brown hair, like Dad.”

  Ruth nodded. “They take after my sister.”

  Madysen forced a smile. “Well, let’s go get you settled in the house.”

  Bethany clung to their father and whispered. “Do we have to stay here? Can’t we go with you?”

  The ice in Madysen’s heart melted. She knew what it was like to be deserted by this man. How could he do it again? He’d promised things were different, yet here he was, proving to be the same selfish father. The blood in her veins heated. She turned around and marched toward the house. They needed some privacy, and she needed space to keep from breaking her vow to love as Jesus loved less than five minutes after making it.

  John caught up with her. “How’s Whitney?”

  “I’m not real sure. Havyn is with her now.”

  “I could have strangled Sinclair when he came back for his horse. Had it not been for Yutu and Inuksuk standing there with their fierce looks and crossed arms, he probably would have picked a fight with me. He looked raving mad. I wouldn’t have minded teaching him a lesson, but I could hardly deal with him with your family standing there waiting for attention.”

  “At least he left.” Madysen hated that people could be so evil.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Not exactly, but I don’t really have a choice.”

  “Maddy?” Dad’s voice made her turn around. He and the children were just a few feet away. Ruth had positioned herself to one side, as if to give them privacy.

  Madysen stopped at the porch steps. “Yes, Dad?”

  “I think maybe it’s best if I leave now. It might be easier on Eli and Bethany to adjust, and I just got a lead on Stan. I sure would like to find him so that I can come back and take care of the kids.” He kept an arm draped around each one of his newly arrived children. “And of course reunite Ruth and Stan.” He seemed so genuine. So truthful.

  How should she respond? She finally managed, “Of course.”

  “Give me a minute to say good-bye.”

  Madysen turned and climbed the steps, John close behind her. He put the suitcases by the front door, then moved to the far side of the porch to give the little family as much privacy as possible. Madysen followed him, her arms tight around her middle. What could Dad say to Eli and Bethany that would make this situation right? Madysen had been so young when Dad had supposedly died. The pain, however, had been of grown-up proportions.

  Dad sat on the steps and bid Bethany and Eli to join him. Bethany threw herself into his arms and cried.

  “Please don’t go.”

  Madysen pressed her teeth together so hard her jaw ached. Hadn’t she said the same thing at her father’s coffin? His empty coffin! Bitterness burned her throat. She loved Granddad, she did,
but how could he have thought that was kinder—better—for Mama? For her and her sisters to pretend Dad was dead? A girl needed her daddy. How could anyone think otherwise?

  “You need to be brave, Bethany.” Dad’s voice carried in the silent yard. “Remember your aunt Ruth and your cousins. They need me to find Uncle Stan. They need him, and we can help.”

  Madysen pressed her palm over her lips. Everything, from the tone of his voice to the love shining out of his eyes, said he was sincere. But how could she—how could anyone—ever trust the word of a man who’d caused so much hurt?

  “But why must we stay behind?” Eli’s question twisted Madysen’s stomach. “We could come and help you.”

  “The mining camps are no place for children.”

  Madysen stiffened, her arms jerking straight down. They’d been good enough for his first set of children. He’d dragged her and her sisters from one gold camp to another.

  “There’s too much danger at the camps and way too much fighting. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

  But he didn’t mind those things happening around them. Madysen clenched her fists. Could he even hear what he was saying? Staring at the man she once adored, she wanted to shake some sense into him.

  Then Bethany sniffed. A single tear trailed down her cheek. Eli put his arm around her.

  Every argument and every disappointment swirling inside Madysen’s spirit halted. Took second place to these poor children. None of this—absolutely none of it—was their fault. They loved their father. Had lost their mother too. Just like Madysen and her sisters. Madysen drew in a deep breath and let it out. Relaxed her fists.

  John gave her shoulder a pat.

  “It will get easier,” he whispered.

  Bethany buried her face against Dad’s chest. “I’ll be brave, Papa.”

  He whispered something to her, then kissed the top of her head.

  Sitting beside their father, Eli seemed all gangly arms and legs, but he nodded as Dad talked to him. Then he smiled, and the threesome got to their feet and embraced.

  Dad had hugged Madysen and her sisters like that once. Long ago. She remembered it as though it were yesterday. His love had meant so much to her. She’d played the memory over and over in her head like a piece of music. Seeing him do that now was both sweet and bitter.

  She didn’t want to share that precious memory.

  Dad turned to Ruth. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. I promise you, I will find him.”

  “Remember, Chris, even if it’s the worst . . . I want to know.” Ruth lifted her chin. “And . . . if he’s . . . if the worst has happened, I don’t know what I’ll do. I always thought we’d be buried side by side in the family plot. But I don’t think I want to return to Colorado without him.”

  Ruth was taller than Madysen by at least five inches, but she suddenly seemed small and fragile.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Dad gave Ruth a hug.

  Madysen bowed her head. Here she was wrapped up in her feelings about Dad, and this poor woman didn’t even know if her husband was dead or alive. Had it put an edge in her voice? One that Madysen misread in her own distrust?

  Madysen opened the door with her left hand and beckoned to Bethany and Eli with her right. Ruth and the children deserved her compassion and understanding even if Dad didn’t . . . but did he deserve her mercy and forgiveness?

  Did anyone deserve it?

  The question echoed in her head as she ushered the children inside. John waited for Ruth to precede him into the house, then they all walked to the window.

  Dad waved. They all waved back.

  Lord, keep him safe. And help him to find Ruth’s husband. She ought to ask for something more, maybe something about changing her heart toward her dad, but whatever else she needed from her heavenly Father was overshadowed by the pain of what she hadn’t received from her earthly one. Lord, teach me how to pray.

  Dad turned and climbed up into the wagon, maneuvered the horses back down the snowy lane, and slowly disappeared.

  Eli worried his lower lip while Bethany wiped at her tears. They both looked so weary.

  “Why don’t we go into the parlor for a little bit and warm by the fire?” The poor things had been out in the cold the whole time she and Havyn had been seeing to Whitney.

  Whitney. Her heart ached for her sister. Why was this world filled with such cruelty?

  Madysen led them into the parlor, and their eyes widened at the expansive stone fireplace. They just stared for several moments.

  Taking Bethany’s shoulders, she directed her to the settee so they could sit and watch the fire. “That’s my favorite part of this room—other than the musical instruments.”

  John tapped Madysen’s shoulder. “I’ll go get some tea started, then I’ll need to check on Daniel. He’s been in the cheese kitchen trying to help you out by getting everything unpacked and sorted.”

  “Oh, I completely forgot. Thank him for me, will you?” Her brother-in-law was so thoughtful. Protective. Kind. And to think that Daniel was here too. “Would you tell Daniel to please come have a cup of tea and some cake before he heads out?”

  John nodded and looked at their guests. “I put your bags over there.” He pointed to where they were placed by the side door.

  “Thank you.” Ruth tucked her hands in her lap. “It was so nice of you to carry them. I’m afraid we’re all a bit worn out. The boat journey here was so long.”

  John grinned. “Remind me to tell you all sometime how I arrived by dog sled.”

  “Dog sled?” Eli’s tone showed his interest.

  John laughed. “Yup. It was quite the ordeal. But for now, I’ll go put the water on for tea, and then I have to get to work.” He left them, whistling as he went.

  Madysen smiled at Ruth. “We’re going to put you in my mama’s room. There are two small beds for you and Bethany and a cot for Eli. Maybe later we’ll figure other arrangements since it’s not exactly ideal.”

  “It’s a roof over our heads, which is more than we had.” Ruth rubbed a spot behind her ear. “Nome is a difficult place to find refuge.”

  Madysen nodded. “The hotels are almost always full. Mr. Reynolds just built a new one, and he says there’s never an unrented room. Most of the folks who come here just live in tents, however.”

  “Even in the cold and snow?” Eli seemed even more interested in that than the dog sled.

  Madysen widened her eyes and smiled. “Yep. Even then. It’s amazing what people endure for the promise of gold.”

  Ruth nodded. “I’m sure Stan gave the cold little thought.”

  Eli took a seat by the fire. “Our dad told us that you thought he—our dad . . . um, your dad—was dead.”

  Goodness! That was direct. Madysen cleared her throat to give herself a second to come up with a response. How much had Dad told them? And how was she supposed to respond when she still didn’t know how she felt about it? “Yes. We thought he was dead for many years.” She kept her tone as free of emotion as she could. “Until he arrived a few months ago.”

  “And you didn’t know anything about us?”

  Madysen shook her head. “No. Well, that’s not entirely true. My sister Havyn knew about you, but she didn’t tell us.”

  “Our mother”—Bethany peered up at Madysen—“was a wonderful woman.”

  “I’m sure she was.” She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. She didn’t want to cry or make a scene, but it broke her heart that Bethany—who up until now hadn’t spoken directly to Madysen—felt it necessary to defend her mother. It forged a small bond between them.

  Girls who had loved and lost their mothers needed to stick together.

  “Look, I know this is very difficult for you. But we are family now. Our mom passed in July, and our grandfather has been very ill, so things are difficult around here, but we can weather these storms together, right?” The words definitely weren’t her own. Thank you, God, for giving them to m
e.

  Eli and Bethany nodded.

  Ruth offered a slight smile. “I told them on the boat that maybe God had brought us here for a time of healing and hope.”

  Madysen’s heart softened a little more. What must Ruth be going through? She’d left her own children at home and endured a difficult journey in hopes of finding her lost husband. If she could have a good attitude about this, shouldn’t Madysen?

  After tea and cake, and an extensive conversation about the Nome area, Madysen stood. “Just leave your dishes and I’ll see to them. I’ll show you to your room. You can get settled and have a rest. Then we’ll have supper around six. Does that sound good?”

  “It’s perfect.” Ruth covered a yawn. “I’m sure we’d all appreciate some time to ourselves.”

  Eli and Bethany nodded.

  Conflicting emotions flooded through Madysen as she walked down the hallway to Mama’s room. They had two beds set up in there, which brought back all the memories of sleeping in here with Mama while she coughed and struggled to breathe.

  Madysen shook her head against the thoughts. She didn’t want to share this sacred space. But Mama would. And she would encourage them to enjoy the life and laughter of the children. No matter the circumstances. So Madysen straightened her shoulders and opened the door.

  But once Madysen stepped into the room, she couldn’t get outside fast enough. “Why don’t you get settled, and I’ll meet you back in the parlor in a little bit?”

  She stayed just long enough to be polite before fleeing, nearly slamming the door in her haste to escape. Everything about this situation was painful.

  Everything.

  Her younger siblings were in pain. Ruth was in pain. Havyn and Whitney were in pain. She was in pain. Granddad was in pain. Mama was still gone. And though Dad was back, he had left again, which caused even more pain.

  But who had it worse, her or Bethany and Eli? The father she remembered was very different from the one who’d just left.

  Dad had changed. He wasn’t a drunkard and womanizer anymore. He wasn’t focused on his own selfish needs and wants.

  But the change was too late. Too late to make it up to Mama. Too late to make their childhood right.