by Lois Richer
“You’re quite a lady, Alicia Featherstone,” Jack said in wonder.
“I guess that’s better than being called bossy.” She winked at him, laughter shining in her eyes. Finished, she rose, tossed out her paper plate and began clearing the tables. “You’ll have to show me what to do, Jack.”
“My pleasure.”
Any hesitation he felt vanished later that afternoon as Alicia slogged alongside the boys, turning the hotel into a welcoming home-away-from-home with freshly made beds, clean towels and sparkling bathrooms. Even the breakfast room was tidied and restocked. All he’d have to do in the morning was make coffee and set out the trays of food.
After they were finished, Laurel picked up the boys and Giselle and took them to swim in the pool at the community center. Alicia tossed the cleaning cloths into the laundry. After one last glance around the immaculate foyer, she fluttered her fingers.
“Gotta go,” she said. “See you later.”
“How about I take you to dinner? As a small token of my very great appreciation,” Jack said, amazed that she could look so good after so much hard work. “Please? I hate eating alone.”
She took a long time to decide but finally, peeking through her lashes at him, she nodded.
“Is The Seaview okay?” he asked, thinking perhaps she wouldn’t want to go to the fanciest restaurant in town. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
Again she paused to think it over before nodding. “I wouldn’t mind if we went to Common Grounds. It’s not as expensive and—”
“They don’t do steaks,” Jack said. “After today I deserve a steak. So do you.”
“Whatever you chose will be fine,” she said. “I’d better go.”
“Thank you for all your help.” He tilted his head to one side as he considered the day. “You never seem to stop giving, Alicia. I admire that very much. But sometimes I wonder who gives to you.”
“Everybody,” she said with a smile. “Including you. You have no idea how much you’ve given me, Jack.” Then she hurried off down the street.
He watched her duck into the coffee shop to pay for the kids’ treats. A moment later she was hurrying into Tansi, as if it were a shelter. Or a refuge.
There was so much he didn’t know, didn’t understand about her. And he wanted to.
Jack went inside and called Pastor Rick. He’d put this off long enough. Tomorrow, if Rick could accommodate him, he was going to make a dent in figuring out the whole faith-through-unanswered-prayer thing.
There were a thousand reasons Jack couldn’t allow his feelings for Alicia. Not the least of these was the issue of faith. Alicia’s was rock solid. His wasn’t. More than that, Jack still couldn’t forget that when he’d needed God most, he’d been abandoned. Going through it all a second time was a no-brainer. Alicia couldn’t be more than a friend.
But oh, the thought of sharing Alicia’s very full world tantalized him.
*
Alicia glanced around the room of Churchill’s fanciest restaurant and felt totally out of place. Lucy had said her black slacks, turquoise top and beaded jacket were perfect for a dinner date, though of course this wasn’t a date.
Lucy had also coached her on the menu so it had been easy to pretend to study the offerings and ask for something she could truly enjoy. What Lucy hadn’t done was suggest a list of topics to talk to Jack about. Now the silence stretched between them, making Alicia more uncomfortable. She sipped her water.
“So what’s the fireside story tonight about?” Jack asked.
“An Indian warrior who set out by canoe at night to meet his betrothed,” she told him. It was her favorite Cree legend, mostly because it was full of romance and she had so little in her life. Of course, it was just a legend.
“That’s a story?” Jack didn’t look impressed. Their food arrived, causing a pause in the conversation. “There must be more to it,” he coaxed when the waiter left.
“If I tell you, you’ll be bored later,” she argued.
“Bored with you? Hardly. Come on, tell me.”
So in between bites of delicious fish, Alicia explained that as the Indian brave paddled in the darkness he heard the river singing and saw his favorite stars lighting his way.
“All his thoughts were of her,” she murmured, aware that her story was bringing a certain intimacy to the meal. “Suddenly he heard his name called out. Puzzled, he let the canoe drift as he searched for the speaker. But he saw no one. So he called out in his native language which was Cree, ‘Kâ-têpwêt?’ But no one answered.”
“A scary story?” Jack murmured, eyebrows raised. “Go on.”
“The brave thought he’d imagined the voice because no one answered him. So he took up his paddle and continued down the dark, murmuring river. A few moments later he heard his name called again. It came from everywhere, and from nowhere. Something about the sound reminded the brave of his beloved, but he knew she couldn’t be here, along the river, because she lived many miles away.” Alicia paused, saw the interest flickering in Jack’s eyes. How nice it would be if this were a date.
“Is that it?” Jack asked, interrupting her fantasy.
“Patience,” she said with a smile. “The brave knew it wasn’t her, but just to be certain he asked again in his native language, ‘Who calls?’ And then he repeated in French, ‘Qu’appelle?’ The call echoed in the surrounding valley, reverberated back to him then faded away.”
“This is going to sound great in the darkness around the fire,” Jack said. “You’re an amazing storyteller, Alicia.”
“You haven’t heard it all yet.” This was her favorite part of the legend. Alicia laid her utensils down and learned forward, dropping her voice. “Though the brave listened intently, he heard no response. But the breeze swirled around him, caressing his arm and his face. Almost he thought he heard his beloved whispering in his ear. Then the breeze died away. Finally the brave took up his paddle and continued his journey.”
Jack sat still, his steak forgotten, his blue eyes locked with hers. Alicia found it hard to breathe, hard to continue. But he’d wanted to hear the story and somehow now she desperately needed to finish it.
“Go on,” he murmured.
“The brave arrived at dawn. His beloved’s father stood on the shore. His face told the story. She was gone, had died in the night, whispering his name with her last breath. As the warrior wept he remembered the breeze touching his face and knew it had been his beloved saying goodbye. To this day, travelers on the Qu’Appelle River in Saskatchewan still hear the echo of the Cree warrior’s voice as he reaches out to the spirit of his beloved, crying, ‘Qu’appelle? Who calls?’”
Partway through the last segment of the story Jack’s face went as still as a mask. He let her finish speaking, then picked up his fork and cut off a piece of his steak.
“Very sweet,” he said in a colorless voice.
Only then did Alicia grasp that he must be thinking of Simone, that she’d died and left him, too. All her pleasure in the evening disappeared.
She toyed with her now tasteless food, but still the silence yawned between them. She’d tell a different story for tonight, something about life and living.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to revive bad memories.”
“That’s the thing,” he said slowly. “They’re not bad memories.” The flicker of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “When I think of Simone now I think of happy times, of the joy she brought to my life. I have no regrets. I was blessed to love her.”
“Yes, you were,” Alicia agreed as a wave of relief filled her. “Many people don’t get to experience that in their lifetime.”
“That’s what Rick said this afternoon.” Jack’s tone grew thoughtful. “I’m getting a different viewpoint on a lot of things. Including God.”
“I’m so glad,” she whispered. One of her prayers was being answered. Jack was rebuilding his faith.
“I have to keep refocusing my thoughts.” His smile was so gen
uine her breath caught in her throat. “God didn’t run out on me, He gave me a precious gift in Simone, because He loves me. Having had that blessing in my life, Rick says I need to move on.”
“Can you do that?” she asked with some trepidation.
“I have to try. I can’t cling to my anger and bitterness forever.” He touched her hand where it lay on the table. “Something you said keeps coming back to me.”
“I said?” Alicia should have moved her hand away, should have suppressed the rush of delight that shivered through her when she didn’t, should have kept things strictly platonic. But Jack was so amazing. How could she not enjoy these few precious moments with him?
“Yes, you,” he said. Again her heart took off racing in response to Jack’s piercing gaze. “You said, ‘The past happened. Can’t be changed. So now what are you going to do?’ Do you remember saying that?”
Alicia shook her head.
“The most important part was what you said next,” he murmured, his eyes moving to their clasped hands.
Finally, self-consciously, Alicia slid hers away.
“You said I only had one choice. You said I had to keep going. And you were right, Alicia.” He eyes bored into hers and she could not move. “I don’t understand the why of the past. Maybe I never will. But I can’t waste the rest of my life being angry and frustrated.”
“No, you can’t,” she whispered. A shaft of pain pieced her heart. The way he spoke, the softness of his voice, the quietness she sensed in him—was he going to tell her he was ready to love again? She wanted that for him. But, oh, how she wished she was the kind of woman a man like Jack could love.
“After Simone died, I vowed I’d never let myself care for anyone in that way because it left me so terribly vulnerable. I felt I could not endure losing someone who was precious to me again.”
“And now you’ve rethought that.” Alicia forced a smile.
“No,” Jack said softly. His eyes met hers and held. “I’m still scared to let myself get emotionally involved again. I don’t know if I’ll ever get past that. Rick says I shouldn’t think about that. He says I should take each day and live it as fully as I can. He told me to keep repeating this verse from Psalms fiftieth chapter, verses fourteen and fifteen. It’s God speaking. ‘I want you to trust me in your times of trouble so I can rescue you and you can give me glory.’”
“That’s a lesson we all need to learn and relearn,” Alicia agreed, feeling a twinge of sadness that she wouldn’t be the one he’d turn to. She glanced at the wall clock. “This has been wonderful, Jack, but perhaps we should get going. The boys will be waiting.”
“Sure.” He grinned at her. “Giselle made me promise we wouldn’t get talking and end up coming late. She sure does love those stories of yours.”
“Have you spoken to her about her birth mother yet?” she asked.
“A little. I warned her again that things might not turn out as she wanted, but that’s all. I want to ease into it.” He gave her an apologetic look. “She has such great expectations.”
“They’ll only get bigger,” Alicia warned. She didn’t say more because she knew he was struggling with himself over protecting his little girl. She rose when he held her chair, and preceded him out of the restaurant. “I can’t thank you enough for that dinner. It was delicious.”
“I can’t thank you enough for helping with the cleaning,” he said. He threaded his arm around her waist, guiding her to his car.
Alicia paused, suddenly aware that she felt no inhibitions, no fear, no skittering sense of apprehension, as she had so often when a man had come too close. In fact, she wanted more. She wanted Jack to kiss her!
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Alicia stared into his eyes and knew with soul-deep certainty that she had fallen in love with Jack Campbell. It should have made her happy.
Instead, all she could think about was how much he loved his daughter. Jack would never understand that she’d given her own child away and now had no clue where he was. And when he learned why, he’d despise her for it.
“Alicia?” He touched her chin so he could look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Everything.
“Just savoring the moment.” The longings grew too strong. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek in her palm. “Thanks for being my friend, Jack.” She stood on tiptoe so she could once, just this one time, brush her lips against his cheek. “Thanks a lot.”
Then she climbed into his car, her heart weeping as she repeated the Bible promise from Rick’s last sermon.
I trust in the mercy of God forever and ever.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry, Adam,” Alicia said. “Hurtful words cut like no knife ever could.”
“Maybe I deserve what the other kids said,” Adam muttered. “After all, I was rude to you.”
“I remember,” Alicia murmured.
Jack froze at the corner of the sod house, conscious that the mid-August sun wasn’t as warm as it had been. Alicia sat on a boulder in the sunshine with Adam, the smallest of the boys at Lives, their dark heads bent together as they talked. He doubted she even remembered he was there.
“As a kid I was called lots of horrible things. I didn’t fit in, you see,” she said softly. “I didn’t have any friends and I was different than the others, so kids made fun of me.”
Jack knew he was eavesdropping but couldn’t tear himself away. Alicia had obviously suffered difficulties in her life. He needed to understand how those troubles had made her into the woman about whom everyone had something nice to say.
“You’re small for your age, Adam, but so what?” Affection radiated through Alicia’s words. “That’s the way God made you.”
“On purpose?” Adam asked.
“Of course.” Alicia’s laughter rang out. “You aren’t an accident. You are a very precious child of the most high God. He loves every detail about you, that’s why He made you this way.” Her faith echoed in each word. “Your Father made you perfect. That’s what you have to remember, not what others say.”
Jack didn’t hear any response so he peeked around the corner. Alicia was hugging the boy, her inner beauty shining through like a bright beam of sunshine.
“But they said I was a—” Adam spit out the ugly word and jerked away. Tears glittered on his cheeks. His jaw clenched. “I can’t just forget that.”
“Do you want to know what they called me?” One after another Alicia recited ugly racial slurs, her voice growing tighter with each one.
Jack’s skin chilled at the viciousness. She’d been barely a teen, with no parents to encourage her. How had she remained so strong in her faith?
“Those words were like nails cutting into me.” Her voice was raw. “Every day I’d come home, feeling like I was bleeding.”
The agony in those words revealed her struggle to regain control. Jack longed to go to her, to fold her in his arms and take away the pain, to replace those horrible words with the truth, that she was beautiful and very special. He wanted to, but he was desperately afraid to let go, to be vulnerable, to embrace what he felt—because he could lose it all again.
“So what did you do?” Adam’s squeaky voice betrayed his inner tension.
“I suffered horribly until a friend reminded me that I had the armor of God. That if I put it on, those words couldn’t hurt me. I’d imagine holding it in front of me so that those ugly words bounced off.”
She stopped suddenly. Jack didn’t understand why, he only knew that when she resumed speaking, her voice wobbled slightly.
“You have to stop letting them get to you, Adam.” She brushed his cheek with her knuckles. “If you ever forget who you are again, come see me,” she invited. “I’ll remind you that God your Father doesn’t make mistakes when He creates His kids.”
It struck Jack then that Giselle’s frequent questions about God might be something Alicia could help him answer. She obviously knew a lot about kids’ fears. She’d reass
ured Adam so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that Adam now stood with confidence.
Hearing about Alicia’s problems raised a new question. Was Giselle suffering with this move? If so, Alicia would know how to help his daughter.
He’d come to Alicia with a lot of problems. And yet she’d never refused to help him. By contrast, it seemed he’d done very little for her. Maybe it was time to start.
“Hi, Jack. I’m glad you waited for me.”
Jack startled. Alicia was standing at the corner. Her quizzical look lasted only a second before she quickly glanced away. That brief look raised questions. Alicia seemed more distant today. She didn’t meet his gaze head-on, as usual.
“Actually, I wanted to give you some space with Adam,” he told her. “What you said made me think about Giselle.” Adam was busy smoothing the last bits of mud over the entry. He wouldn’t overhear them. “Do you think Giselle might be having problems as a result of our move?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Alicia gave him a stern look. “You can’t keep avoiding the tough subjects, Jack.”
“I know, but I’m trying to let her come to me.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She keeps asking me about God’s will. I don’t know how to answer.”
“Honestly,” Alicia advised.
The arrival of the boys cut off their discussion for the moment. Alicia put them all to work, including Garret, who was to take photos of the progress on the house. Then she returned to Jack.
“If Giselle has questions of faith, maybe she should talk to Pastor Rick,” she suggested. “He’s great with the boys from Lives.”
Jack had been hoping Alicia would step in with an answer, but now he had a sense she was putting distance between them. He didn’t blame her. He’d already asked a lot of her. Giselle was in her store constantly, seeking to understand Native culture, but also, perhaps, because she found a kind of motherliness in Alicia. It had to be taxing on Alicia, who, as a single woman, was used to being on her own, doing her own thing.