Where Trust Lies

by Janette Oke

  Penny grabbed at the strap. “Let me see.”

  “Please be careful,” Victoria objected. “That’s a delicate instrument.”

  “Ain’t hurting anything, honey. We’re just giving things a look.” Jannis raised the binoculars out of Penny’s reach.

  Victoria stood, her hand thrust over the table. “Give them back! Please!”

  Penny dropped her hold on the strap, but Jannis merely moved the binoculars a little further away. “In a minute. I’m almost done.”

  Exchanging a glance with Julie, who merely watched idly, Beth sat forward and cleared her throat. “Jannis, the binoculars belong to Victoria. If she wants them back, please give them to her.”

  “Who died and put you in charge?” Jannis shot at Beth.

  But Penny intervened. “Come on, Jan. If she wants them back, they’re hers anyway.”

  The two eyed each other for a brief moment, some form of silent communication clearly taking place. Then Jannis shrugged and set the binoculars back on the table. “Suit yourself, little missy,” she said crossly. “I’d be sharing if they were mine.”

  Victoria hung them around her neck and went back to her previous activity as if nothing had occurred. A heavy silence fell over the table.

  “I’m sorry, Beth,” Jannis admitted at last. “I know I should’ve gave them right back. It’s just that I never even held a pair like that, and I wanted to get a better look at the ship from here. But I shouldn’t have made such a fuss about it.” The previous cross expression had been entirely replaced by a cajoling sweetness.

  Beth was reminded of Julie’s coaxing looks, honed to perfection since she was a little girl. She couldn’t help but soften. “Well, Victoria doesn’t seem upset, so there’s certainly no need for me to be.”

  “Friends again?” Jannis asked with a perky grin.

  “Why, of course.”

  When the girls finally returned to the ship, there was little time to change for dinner. Beth hurried along the corridors, Julie and Victoria in tow. It had been a rather nice afternoon after all. Beth briefly wondered why Nick had not appeared for their teatime. She had decided not to say anything to Julie, but instead wait and see what might turn up. Now she was glad that she had said nothing.

  Beth actually was tempted to make excuses and skip dinner altogether, have a quiet evening, and write back to Jarrick. Instead, she dutifully followed the rest to the dining hall and joined in with the conversation as best she could. When at last she was back in the room, she changed out of her more formal attire, gathered what she needed, including Jarrick’s letter, and stole out through the long halls.

  Being on deck would not work this evening. Beth needed a table and preferred not to be disturbed. She walked quickly past the noise coming out of the lounge, choosing a quiet corner in a little tea shop. She ordered a cup and sipped for a time, pulling together her thoughts. She picked up her pen and dipped the end of it into a small jar of ink, tapping it absent-mindedly against the rim for a while.

  My dear Jarrick, she began, her hand trembling a little as she penned the words. They seemed so personal—so intimate. But Jarrick had already used the same greeting, so she pressed on.

  We spent a lovely time today at Tadoussac, Quebec. Whales nearby in the fjord and wildlife abounding onshore were wonderful to see. In truth, it was a blessed thing for me to set my feet firmly back on land. I’ll admit to you that I have experienced some seasickness on our journey, so I appreciated every single step I took today on terra firma.

  The location is utterly breathtaking, right at the confluence of Saguenay Fjord with the St. Lawrence River. And the town was delightful, so accommodating to us all. Yet it was the sense of history that I enjoyed most, the very age of the locale. Older than the fur trade, the voyageurs, and the earliest missionaries who built the little wooden chapel there. Older than the people who inhabited the forests long before the Europeans came. I amused myself by envisioning generation upon generation of whales gathering in the nearby waters in order to study how the strange land creatures, walking upright on two legs, were getting along through the many decades. As if the marine behemoths had come closer to observe mankind—the opposite of what we did today! I must say that I enjoyed it all very much.

  Julie has agreed to paint some landscapes to share with the children as I teach Canadian geography. I also purchased a set of carved wooden whales, a mother and calf, which I hope to use when telling my schoolchildren about the majestic creatures. I do hope to be able to find words to describe the grace and elegance—despite its size—of a breaching whale.

  So it was in this setting that I read your letter while seated on a large rock in the forest. I’ll admit that part of the reason for this was to find seclusion from my family, but it ended up as an ideal location. It was almost as if I were back in a corner of Coal Valley, minus the view of the Rocky Mountains. I could almost picture us there together.

  Two elderly women looked in the door at her before continuing on their way. After smiling at them, Beth dipped the pen again.

  I was so pleased to hear that none of the mothers will have to move away in the near future, that a community garden will be planted, and that there’s already talk of a school in the fall. This has been a continuing matter of prayer for me. But I was utterly shocked by the sad story regarding Mrs. Grant. I certainly pray that she’ll find peace of mind and an improved situation. Is there further news of Mr. Grant’s trial? I do hope justice is served in his case, with our heavenly Father presiding as his true Judge. And yet, our Savior is willing to be his genuine Advocate still, should he only repent.

  She paused, tapping on the edge of the jar once again while sorting her thoughts.

  It has been a joy traveling with my family and our friends, the Montclairs, and yet there are a myriad of minor complaints that occasionally surface. I suppose that’s unavoidable when sharing tight quarters and many hours of “togetherness.” The bright spot is that we’ve also made some new friends on board. A pair of sisters about our ages are traveling too. For Julie who, as you well know, enjoys a much livelier pace of activity than the rest of us, this has been great fun. My sister has become quite a tennis enthusiast already (there is a court for this on board), and she knows every other corner of the ship by now, I’m certain. There is a small group of other young people traveling too, though most of the passengers are of Mother’s generation or older.

  Beth hesitated, wondering if she should mention Nick at all, then decided it would never do to hold this back from Jarrick if she were contemplating a life with him. She added,

  We met a young American named Nick in Quebec City and were surprised to find him also on our ship. I discovered that he and I share an interest in reading, but I’m certain he isn’t spending time in that pursuit while on board.

  Already Beth was nearing the end of the second side of the page. Since she felt it was unnecessary to begin another, she would bring her letter to a close. She had saved what she thought was the best until last.

  I have enjoyed the thought of you returning to our restaurant to make a reservation. I do hope that the idea was well received. The very image in my mind is a source of pleasure to me, to be sure. So much so that I’ve already begun to plan what I shall wear that evening. And, in the same sentiment, I decided to share with you that each day I carry along one of the petals from your roses which I saved in a handkerchief. They serve as a countdown of sorts until I shall see you again.

  Again she debated with herself. Jarrick closed his letter “with warmest affection.” What would be a proper response to that? Once on the paper in ink, she would have no way of changing it.

  Truly yours, Beth, she wrote. It was less than she wanted to offer—words she had written on most of her letters to friends. But propriety demanded restraint, for now, she determined as she waited for the ink to dry.

  A man, perhaps, can risk being more forthcoming, but a young woman must guard her words carefully, she concluded, then gently folded the l
etter.

  Chapter

  10

  BETH WAS ON DECK EARLY ENOUGH to watch the sun climbing up over the river, the spreading glow giving way to a single bright ray, followed by a narrow band of brilliant yellow. She took a position near the prow and studied the ship slicing its way through each small wave, grateful that her body now had grown accustomed to the movement.

  When she noticed other passengers appearing, she delivered her letter to the correct shipboard office and was told that it would go into the mailbag that morning for transport to shore. Pleased, she went to their usual deck space where her family had rented numbered deck chairs. While waiting, she leaned against the damp rail and breathed in the cool morning air.

  This would be a day spent entirely on board as the ship made its slow course eastward. Julie will surely have time to paint today. Beth watched for things she would like to see included in the landscape—a fishing village and lumber mills, here and there a road appearing among the trees onshore, small boats and large ships gliding along in the distance. She hoped also to see more wildlife—perhaps with the help of Victoria’s field glasses.

  Father had said his ship would pass theirs at some point during the day. Beth scanned around carefully, wishing she knew what time that was likely.

  “Hello, little miss early-riser.” Beth turned to discover Mrs. Montclair joining her at the rail.

  “Good morning. I hope you slept well,” she answered cordially.

  “Well, yes—or I would have but for Victoria and her everlasting violin. She’s up early, like you, I see. I tell you, Elizabeth, be grateful that the walls aren’t thin, that the hum of the engines drowns out her racket somewhat.”

  Beth nodded agreeably and smiled. There seemed to be no point in protesting her ill-advised description. She was reminded of how lovely it would be to play Victoria’s violin soon.

  “Is there time for a lap or two around the top deck before breakfast?” Margret asked as she walked out into the sunshine with JW. Beth held out her arms for the grinning boy, and he snuggled his head into her neck.

  “Oh, Margret, that feels so good,” she whispered, and they exchanged appreciative smiles.

  When Mother joined them, they climbed the nearby stairs, emerging in procession onto the uppermost deck. The rising sun already promised a day both splendid and warm.

  Mother cast a glance over her shoulder. “What shall we do with such a marvelous morning?”

  Julie’s suggestion came quickly. “There are games on deck later—near the tennis courts.”

  “I don’t play tennis,” Victoria asserted.

  “Oh, that’s just where they’re playing. I’ve heard that the games will be designed to give everyone a pleasurable activity. I’m certain we’d all find something to enjoy, or even just watch.”

  “Of course, dear,” Mother said. “But this is a family vacation. Can’t we find something we can all enjoy together?”

  “We haven’t had a swim yet. I’m sure JW would enjoy the water,” Margret proposed.

  Beth agreed. “That sounds fun.”

  But Mother hedged. “I don’t know about swimming here on ship. It’s a different situation at the beach. . . . But I’m afraid I’d feel quite uncomfortable with it today—all those deck chairs pointed inward toward the pool, passengers watching.”

  “But we were just at a beach, Mother!” Julie’s face said more than her words. “We should have gone swimming then.”

  Mrs. Montclair offered, “I read there’s to be a sing-along in the theater this morning. We all enjoy music. The tunes will be old favorites we’re sure to know. That sounds delightful, doesn’t it, Victoria?”

  “Oh, yes, Mother.”

  Julie muttered, “Well, that’s the end of it then. A dowdy sing-along with dowdy old songs.”

  Beth tried to encourage her quietly. “We don’t have to do everything together. After all, we are adults. We’re fine to make our own decisions where our personal interests are concerned. But let’s go along with the music first. We want Mother to fully enjoy the trip, of course. But afterward she’ll probably want to just sit on deck for a time—and then we can putter about on our own. Julie, you can go join the games, and Margret, you and I can take JW for a quick swim before his nap. He probably won’t want to stay long anyway.”

  “Yes, that does sound fine,” Margret agreed. “And once he’s down for his nap, we can go watch the games—cheer for our Julie.”

  Even Julie seemed to find it a satisfactory solution. True to Beth’s supposition, after the concert, Mother and Mrs. Montclair were content to find a sunny location in which to recline and read for a while under umbrellas.

  “Are all these Julie’s friends?” Margret stared wide-eyed at the array of young people. The noise and laughter had reached them long before they arrived at the recreation deck. And there was their sister in the center of it all, laughing in obvious delight at the attention and throwing a ball to a young man who was trying to catch it beneath his chin, his hands apparently tied behind his back.

  “At any rate, Margret, it certainly doesn’t look like she minds,” Beth said, not knowing whether to be alarmed or pleased that Julie had found the fun she was looking for. “And she does know the man with whom she’s teamed.”

  “Turn around, Nick!” the crowd shouted. “Catch it on your back!”

  It seemed that so long as he did not use his hands, and no words would pass between the two teammates, winning was achieved by catching and holding the ball by any means possible. A second two-person team had already switched tactics and were trying to get their ball to land between the receiver’s shoulder blades without rolling off. The spectators pressed forward at each attempt. Beth laughed and clutched at Margret’s arm, also caught up in the competition.

  And then Julie made a dramatic motion. Nick must have understood her sign language, and he dropped to a sitting position on the deck, an awkward maneuver with his hands still tied. But with a single toss Julie dropped the ball squarely into his lap, his knees quickly rising to trap and keep it there.

  All around them applause erupted, and voices began to chant Julie’s name in unison. It seemed their sister had devised the winning strategy. Beth and Margret joined in the ovation while Julie’s face fairly glowed, obviously pleased. Nick struggled to rise, which brought more laughter. After he was untied, he stood next to Julie and accepted a small plastic trophy. With a flourish he passed it to Julie, who held it high after a theatrical curtsy. Beth watched in awe at the grace and charisma that Julie displayed as she carried the prize toward a red cloth spread across a table and set it with the collection. The blue cloth next to theirs carried only three trophies. So it appeared Julie’s team was winning the competition.

  Over the noise Beth said into Margret’s ear, “I think maybe they’re all friends of Julie’s.” Margret shook her head in wonder.

  They waved for Julie’s attention. At last she saw them and hurried over. “We won!”

  “We saw you. That was brilliant. Good for you.”

  Julie was still out of breath. “I told you they were silly games. But we’re having such a good time. Come join us. You can be on our team.”

  “Oh, we’ll just find a seat and watch. But you go on—win some more trophies!”

  In a moment Nick appeared by Julie’s side, his hand patting her shoulder good-naturedly, letting it rest there. “Hello, Beth. Isn’t your sister just the berries? Hey—I’m sorry I stood you up at that last little town. Something came up that I had to take care of.” Before Beth could respond, he grinned at Margret and said, “And who’s this, may I ask?”

  Beth stepped back. “This is our older sister, Margret.”

  “Pleased to meet you. You gals sure look alike—beauties, all three of you.” Margret blushed and looked down, Beth noticed. “You two gonna join us?”

  “Oh, no.” Margret blushed more deeply. “Julie’s the outgoing one. We’ll just watch.”

  “Suit yourselves,” he said, then
smiled broadly again and squeezed Julie’s shoulder. “Come on, doll. Let’s see what’s next.” As they walked away, Beth noticed Nick place his hand against Julie’s back, guiding her through the crowd. She frowned, uncomfortable with the casual familiarity.

  Margret whispered, “He seems nice.”

  “Um-hmm,” Beth murmured, still uncertain.

  A wheelbarrow race was next. Two men from each team waddled across the deck to much laughter, one walking on his hands with his feet tucked into the crook of the other’s arms. There were several falls, to the further amusement of the spectators. The first team—Julie’s—crossed the finish line first to even wilder cheers. The new trophy was awarded, and the director called for everyone’s attention to explain the next event.

  Margret leaned close to Beth. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open. Do you mind terribly if we head back to the room? I think I’d like to take a quick nap while JW is still down for his. That is, if he hasn’t already awakened.” Seeing Beth hesitate, she added, “You don’t need to come back with me, darling. You can stay if you’d like. Yes, why don’t you stay?”

  “No, I’ll come along. I don’t want to stay here alone.”

  Beth somewhat reluctantly followed Margret through the corridors, her mind still troubled by what she had seen of Julie and Nick. She wondered if perhaps they had been spending more time together than Beth realized—if they were becoming a little too familiar.

  Oh, Julie, don’t be reckless, she begged silently, and then turned it into a prayer.

  Julie was joy personified at dinner, sitting in her chair like a celebrity with her royal blue gown turning her all the more regal. Her sparkling wit and effervescent personality were now on display for all—teasing and complimenting everyone around her, including several of the younger crowd who stopped by the table to help celebrate her team’s victory.