[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart

by Janette Oke

  The bear spied me at about the same instant that I spied him. We were only a short distance from one another. I wasn't sure who had startled whom the most. The hear suddenly gave a grunt and rose up on his hind legs. He looked mammoth. I wanted to run but my legs had turned to jelly. I wanted to scream but my mouth would not open, and my throat closed up on the sound.

  The bear stood there, swinging his big head back and forth, sniffing and growling, his front paws held in readiness before him. Then he took a step toward me. snorting as he did soand I felt my world going black. I crumpled to the earth in total darkness.

  When I began to revive I sensed that I was moving, being carried in strong arms. For one terrifying minute I thought that it might be the bear toting me off. I fought to regain consciousness. My eyes slowly focused. It was Wynn.

  "Steady, Elizabeth. It's all right." His arm tightened about me. I turned my face against him and began to cry.

  He carried me out to the roadway and then lowered me to my feet, but he did not let me go. He pulled me close and let me shiver and weep until I began to regain some sense. All this time he had held me and stroked my hair or patted my shoulder, saying, "It's all right now. Elizabeth-you're fine--you're with me-it's gone-it's gone."

  Finally I had control of myself enough to stand on my own feet and speak.

  "A bear--"

  "I know," he said, "I saw him."

  "I was going to take the shortcut." I babbled on.

  "I saw you."

  "Where'd you come from""

  "I was driving to your house when I saw you leave the road. I left the automobile and ran after you, so that I could give you a ride home. Just as I caught up with you I saw-"

  "The bear."

  "Yes, the hear. I was going to call out to you, but I was afraid that you might run----running is the worst thing that one can do."

  "I couldn't run--I couldn't ..." and I started to sob again. The world was whirling and my knees were getting weak. I clung to Wynn, my thoughts back with that reared-up hear slowly advancing toward me.

  Wynn's arms tightened about me and then I was being kissed--a kiss that drove all thought of the bear far from my mind. Slowly my arm stole up and around the back of Wynn's neck. I floated in a world where only Wvnn and I existed, a world that I never wanted to end. But it did. Wynn stopped kissing me and swung me into his arms and carried me to the auto that was waiting on the roadway.

  "Your mother sent a parcel to Jon and Mary," he said matter-of-factly as he walked. "She included a number of things for you, so, as I had a couple of days off, Jon suggested that I borrow his vehicle, visit my brother and deliver the packages to you."

  "I see," I murmured against Wynn's shirt front as he lifted me to the seat of the car, then went around to climb in beside me-but I didn't see. I was still far too busy remembering Wynn's kiss. I expected him to start the automobile, but he didn't. Instead, he hesitated, and I dared to hope that he might kiss me again. Instead, he cleared his throat to speak, reaching for my hand and holding it.

  "Elizabeth, I owe you an apology."

  Startled, I came back to full consciousness.

  "I had no right to kiss you like that-I know that. And I didn't mean by it-" He stopped and gazed at me. "I could see that you were thinking again of that bear-your face was going white and your eyes looked terrified, and I thought that you might faint again. I had to make you think of something else, to get your mind off the bear; and the only thing that I could think to do-well-I-I kissed you."

  Slowly the words sank in. At first they had made no sense, but the sting of them began to reach through my numbed senses. Wynn had kissed me just for the medical benefit of snapping me out of shock. But that wasn't how I had kissed him. Surely he had been aware of my response, my eagerness. Oh, yes, he would have been aware all right, and now he was apologizing for having kissed me at all! He wanted to be sure that I knew that he meant nothing personal by the kiss and to point out that the response on my part had been ridiculous and unfounded. He was still Mr. Mountie, married to his profession, and a mere, hapless schoolteacher was not about to turn his head.

  With one quick motion I jerked back my hand.

  "No man ever has to kiss me-not for any reason," I threw at him. "I would rather have been mauled by that bear than to be so-so indebted to you, Mr. Delaney!" I jumped from the auto and ran blindly across the ditch and down the pathway from which I had just been rescued.

  I did remember the bear, but in my anger I was convinced that he would be no match for me. I heard Wynn call my name, but the sound only made me more angry and my tears fall more freely. The nerve of the man to get me to throw my love at his feet and then turn his back upon me with a trite apology! I would never, never, never look at him again.

  Phillip, Jr. brought the gifts from my mother to school the next day. The package only helped to heighten my new resolve to return home. The East was where I belonged.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  School Ends

  My determination to put Wynn from my mind did not make it any easier to accomplish the fact. I thought of him constantly. I loved him, hated him, forgave him, scorned him, and pined for him by turn.

  By the time the last week of school had arrived, I had thoroughly made up my mind. I was going home-back to Toronto. Maybe there my broken heart would have a chance to mend. In the evenings I packed my trunks; in went my books, my clothing, the china teapot, the knick-knacks, and the simple masterpieces presented to me by the children--"to teacher with love." I even packed my footstool, though why I kept it I couldn't be sure. I was certain that Mother wouldn't welcome the thing in the house.

  Each item that I packed brought back memories, and when I came to the fur mittens, my gift from Wynn, I could endure no more. I threw myself on my lumpy bed and gave way to the luxury of tears. I loved this country-its bright, cloudless, blue, blue sky; the scent of roses in the air; the long, lingering twilight; even the wail of the cowardly coyotes. I loved the people-Anna with her hands that always held out some gift; Else with her shy eagerness; Mr. Dickerson with his desire that the community people be led in worship; Mr. Laverly who fought for a school even though his own sons were past school age; the Clarks, the Mattochs, Delaneys, Pastachucks, Thebeaus and Blakes. They had become my neighbors, my people. Then I thought of dear, loving Andy and his honest praise for the efforts of his fellowman--"You did real good." The sobs shook my whole body.

  I could have been so happy here, I mourned inwardly.

  Then why run away? asked the other me.

  I must-I must, was my only answer.

  I went through the motions of teaching that last week. Each accomplishment of a student, each act of kindness raised a lump in my throat.

  On the final day we had a picnic. Everyone from the community was there. I was flooded by kind and sincere compliments. It could have gone to my head had I been able to think clearly. Over and over again I heard the question, "Will you be back next fall, Miss Thatcher? Will you be our teacher again?" I could only reply in my dazed condition, "I don't know-I'm not sure."

  Everyone seemed to enjoy the picnic, and as long as I kept busy I enjoyed it too. In the back of my mind the words kept hammering, My last day-my last day. I had to force my mind to other things so that I wouldn't succumb to the temptation to cry, right in front of them all.

  It was time for them all to leave. My hand was shaken so often and so vigorously that it went numb-as numb as my heart, I thought, and then realized that my heart wasn't numb after all, for a sharp pain was twisting it.

  I hugged my younger students and the older girls. Many of them cried, and I longed to cry with them. The boys stiffly shook hands in an embarrassed wav, and even that touched me. At last the final wagon pulled away from the schoolyard, its occupants still waving and calling good-bye, and I turned back to the schoolroom. There really wasn't much that needed to be done, but I wanted to leave everything in good order. I swept, dusted, arranged, cleaned the blackboards, and sc
rubbed the floor. When everything was as clean as I could possibly make it, I took one last look around and, with tears in my eyes, went out and closed the door tightly behind me.

  I spent the evening gathering and packing the last of my belongings and giving the teacherage a thorough cleaning as well. I was glad for every job that I found to do, for it kept my hands busy, if not my thoughts.

  Just before retiring I went to my trunk and unpacked the china teapot and the two cups and saucers, wrapped them carefully and placed them in a small box. Then I also pulled out the footstool. I looked at it long and lovingly, and then set it beside the door with the box.

  The coyotes began their evening chorus. Their cries no longer frightened me; instead, they filled me with such a loneliness that I cried with them. I may never hear them again, I thought, and I knew that I would miss even them.

  The next morning the whole Peterson family drove me to the station. I was so busy taking a good look at everything for the last time that I wasn't very good company. In fact, we were all rather quiet on that trip to Lacombe.

  When we arrived at the station, Lars and Mr. Peterson checked my trunks while I purchased my ticket. We chatted in a rather empty fashion for a few minutes. and then it was time for me to go.

  I hugged Anna warmly.

  "I can never tell you how much your friendship and thoughtfulness have meant to me, and I have left something in the teacherage that I want you to have. You have given me so much and I've never given much in return." Anna protested, but I went on. "I want you to have my teapot, and I'd like Else and Olga to each have one of the cups and saucers to remember me by. And for Lars, for hauling wood and water and being such a good help to a green city girl, I have left my footstooland for each of the children, one of my books. Lars always sat on the footstool when he read my books, so when he reads again, perhaps he can use the footstool and remember just how much this schoolteacher thought of him."

  Then we all hugged some more and the whistle of the train announced that it would soon be leaving. I had to go. The train pulled away from the station with all of us still waving to one another.

  I didn't cry all the way to Calgary. It was much too long a trip for that, but I did soak several lace handkerchiefs with my tears.

  My day spent at Jon and Mary's was no better. They tried to convince me to stay, but I reminded them that my trunks were likely already on the way to Toronto. I was half-afraid that had I not taken the action of booking them to Toronto from Lacombe, I might have decided to stay. I couldn't do that. I just couldn't.

  As Jon, Mary and the children took me to the station the next day, we were all red-eyed. Kathleen clung to my hand.

  "I wanted you to be my Aunt Beth for always," she declared sadly.

  "But I am your Aunt Beth for always."

  "But I wanted you to be my Aunt Beth here."

  I looked back at the hill where we had gone sledding. From the high rise above the hillside, one could look out over the Rockie Mountains. I had not made my promised trip to the mountain streams or steep slopes.

  I'm coming back-someday, I silently promised. I'm going to keep that promise if it's at all possible.

  Again there were tearful good-byes. I held each one of the family: the big brother that I had come to love and respect; Mary, my bright-haired new sister; William, the boy who would soon be a man; Sarah, with her shy, winning ways: Kathleen, the chattery, lovable bundle of energy; and Baby Elizabeth, a small bit of warmth and love who bore my name.

  "I will miss you all so very much," I said through my tears.

  Kathleen needed one last hug. "Come back, Aunt Bethplease come back soon." I promised to try, and then was making my way to the boarding platform, struggling with my tears.

  "Elizabeth."

  A hand was placed on my shoulder, and through the mist in my eyes I saw a red-coated chest and I looked up into the face of Wynn Delaney. His eyes looked troubled as they gazed deeply into mine.

  "Elizabeth, I must see you."

  "But my train-"

  "I promise not to be long. There are still a few minutes."

  His eyes seemed to plead and I could no longer bear to look at him. I lowered my gaze and nodded an agreement. He took my arm and steered me through the crowd and back into the station, while a confused redcap followed with my luggage.

  "Dick," Wynn said to a man wearing a station man's uniform, "I need to borrow your office for a minute."

  The man nodded. I was ushered into an office and the door closed behind me. Wynn turned me around to face him.

  "Elizabeth," he said slowly, "I couldn't let you go this way. I've been miserable."

  "Look, Wynn," I cut in rather hastily. "we were both wrong. It shouldn't have happened like that-but it did. You don't need to apologize."

  1 went to turn away from him and escape back to the train, but he held me firmly.

  "Elizabeth, look at me."

  Reluctantly I raised my eyes. JIy tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks.

  "Elizabeth, I must confess that I kissed you because I wanted to-not merely to save you from fainting again. But I didn't come here just to apologize.'

  My eyes must have asked my question.

  "I came here to ask you to forgive me, yes-but I also came to-to ask you not to go. I know it's selfish. and I know that I have no right, but I must at least tell you before you gobefore you decide- -that--I love voii. Elizabeth. I want you to stay. I want you to consider being my wife. I know that I have nothing to offer-t hat I--"

  I don't know what other nonsense Wynn might have gone on declaring had I not stopped him. I was still mulling over the words, "I love you. I want you to be my wife." And with a glad little cry I threw myself into his arms.

  "Oh, Wynn"' I sobbed, and my tears spilled freely on his red tunic until he lifted my face upward and began to kiss me.

  When he stopped and looked at me, I was breathless and flushed with happiness.

  "I still don't know where I'll be posted-"

  "It doesn't matter. Can't you see? It really doesn't matter."

  "I believe you. Somehow I believe you." And he kissed me again.

  The next question that he asked me made my eyes shine even more.

  "How would you like a honeymoon in those Rockies-by a mountain stream?"

  "Oh, Wynn, I'd love it. I'd just love it! Could we?"

  Then a sharp train whistle reached my ears and even as I listened I could tell that it was getting farther away.

  "Oh, dear," I said and looked at Wynn in dismay.

  "What is it?"

  "I do believe that my train has just left without me."

  Wynn smiled his slow, deliberate smile. "Isn't that a shame," he said with exaggerated alarm.

  Then I began to laugh--a soft, merry, tremendously happy laugh.

  "Do you know," I said, "that my poor old trunks have gone on east without me?"

  He pulled me close and laughed with me, kissing the top of my head.

  "I do hope that you have some belongings, Elizabeth."

  "Just my two suitcases."

  "We'll wire ahead and have your trunks sent backbecause I'm not letting you go after them. Trunks or no trunks, you're staying here-where you belong."

  I had no objections.

  Table of Contents

  Books by Janette Oke

  Chapter One

  Chapter TWo

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two
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  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six