But in the dream eight nights ago, Kari had, after thirty-three years, remembered. Now that she saw what lay behind the curtain, The Black would never again hold her in its death grip.
I remember my little sister and baby brother now.
For the umpteenth time she berated herself. How could I have forgotten them? How could I have not remembered them all these years? How could I?
She frowned. And where are they? Who took them? Where are they now?
O Lord, I’m so grateful to be free of The Black! I am so grateful that you are restoring my memories of Sammie and Elaine. So grateful for everything.
She took a slow, deep breath. “But it is time. Time to start looking for them.”
Kari strode up the slope toward the farmhouse, her long legs eating up the yards. When she glanced toward the top of the field, she spied Max’s blonde hair next to the pump. His slumped eight-year-old shoulders told her that Søren had forbade Max from interrupting Kari during her morning ritual.
He spotted her and brightened. “Hey, Kari!”
“Hay is for horses,” she teased.
Max eased under her arm and they walked the remaining distance to the house in companionable silence. The boy fit against her side as if he had always been there.
I am learning to love Max, Kari thought. It will break my heart to leave him.
She knew he felt the same. She also knew he harbored an unspoken hope that Kari and his papa, Søren, would “get together.”
Lord, I am learning to feel something for Søren, too. Kari shrugged the thought away. No, it is much too soon to go there. My life has been a mess for years. I don’t need emotional entanglements to complicate it. Besides . . .
And Kari’s thoughts returned to Elaine and Samuel.
Max and Kari passed Kari’s Coupe de Ville, parked close to the house. Søren’s friend Jeff had delivered the Caddy last evening. The repairs—to replace the smashed windshield and fix the dented hood, both caused when a bale of hay fell from Søren’s truck onto Kari and her car—had taken longer than two weeks. Now, as Jeff had promised, Kari’s car was “as good as new.”
Kari brushed her fingers across the chrome on the fender as she and Max passed by. They climbed the back porch steps and, with the screen door slapping closed behind them, entered the open kitchen.
Søren’s sister, Ilsa, smiled from the stove. “Perfect timing. Breakfast is ready.”
“I’ll wash up.”
Kari walked from the kitchen into the living room on her way to the guest room and paused at the old family photographs lining an entire wall. Her fingers touched the glass covering the portrait of Jan, Rose, and Joy when Joy was around Max’s age.
Kari sighed. “Ah, Rose . . .” Then she brightened. “Oh! That reminds me.”
A few minutes later, Kari stepped over the bench and took her seat at the table. Søren bent his head to pray. “Lord, we thank you for this bountiful food. May it strengthen us and may we use our strength for your glory. Amen.”
“Amen,” Ilsa, Max, and Kari murmured in unison.
They were silent while Ilsa passed around the platters of bacon, potatoes, eggs, sliced tomatoes, stewed apples, and pancakes. Even Kari took more than she had been accustomed to eating—accustomed, that is, before she came to visit Søren and Ilsa.
I eat more because I help Max with his chores—and it is hard, demanding work.
Good heavens, they’ve turned me into a farm girl!
She realized she’d laughed aloud when three heads swiveled toward her.
“Sorry. Thinking aloud.”
Max grinned at her, and Kari couldn’t help it. She ran her thumb down Max’s cheek.
“I’m gonna miss you.” She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, either, but it came out anyway.
Max’s face fell. “Me, too,” he whispered.
Søren cleared his throat. “You’re going today, then?”
They knew she was leaving; she had told them last evening.
“Yes.”
He nodded and turned his eyes back to his plate. “You have the map to Matthew’s place in Emporia?”
He knew she did. They’d gone over it last evening. He’d written out detailed directions, too.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“And his phone number?”
“Yes. I have it.”
Ilsa interrupted the strained silence that followed. “May I help you finish packing?”
“I’m done. But thank you.”
Kari kept her eyes on her own plate. Next to her Max sniffled and she knew tears were trickling down the cheek she’d stroked.
Lord, this is so hard.
Kari was desperate to change the subject. “I forgot to ask you something, a favor, actually.”
Søren, Ilsa, and Max looked at her.
“I, um, I would like to hire someone, a professional, to come here and reproduce the portraits and family photos on the living room wall. So I can have my own copies. Would that be all right with you?”
Søren and Ilsa glanced at each other.
“That’s actually a good idea,” Ilsa answered.
Søren agreed. “Most of the old photos are one-of-a-kind images. Even our cousins down the road don’t have some of the pictures we have.”
“Wonderful. Thank you. I’ll have the person I hire make more than one copy of each so that, God forbid, should anything happen to the originals, we’ll still have the reproductions.”
“I know of other family members who would be keen to have their own copies, Kari,” Søren answered.
Max tapped Kari’s arm. “Will you send me a picture of you, Kari? A nice, big one? I don’t want to forget what you look like.”
He looked so serious that Kari had to cough before she could answer. “Of course, Max. I’ll take care of it as soon as I get home.”
Ilsa began removing the breakfast things, and Kari and Max jumped up to help. After they had cleared the table, they settled back in their seats, each of them opening their Bibles. Kari opened the used black Bible Søren had loaned to her.
I will have to leave this here, she thought with regret.
As though he had read her mind, Søren said, “We know you can buy a study Bible of your own when you get home, Kari, but we would like you to keep this one. As a keepsake of your time with us.”
Kari nodded. She couldn’t reply.
“Let’s read where we left off yesterday,” Søren said. “1 Thessalonians, Chapter 2.”
Kari found her way to the passage and smoothed the pages of the Bible with her fingers. She followed along as Søren read.
For this reason we also thank God without ceasing,
because when you received the word of God
which you heard from us,
you welcomed it not as the word of men,
but as it is in truth, the word of God,
which also effectively works in you who believe.
Kari found it difficult to keep her attention on the passage. When will I be back here with these precious people? she wondered. How long will it be? Will things be different? Will Max have grown into an incorrigible teenager? Will Søren have moved on with his life? O Lord, I cannot live with so many goodbyes!
Kari’s right hand clenched in her lap, and she stifled her own sniffs—until Max’s hand found its way onto her lap and clasped her tense fingers. The sob jumped out then. Max slid closer to her and laid his head on her shoulder.
With merciful tact, Ilsa and Søren averted their eyes and Søren kept reading. As Kari listened, she felt as though she would always associate his mellow baritone with the reading of Scripture. She leaned her cheek upon Max’s head and inhaled his scent, part boy, part barn.
Søren finished reading, but he did not ask questions or invite discussion as he usually did. Kari could tell he was struggling, too. To end the uncomfortable moment, she disentangled herself from Max, drew her legs over the bench seat, and stood.
“I’ll be getting my things.”
She fled to her room. She unbuttoned the plaid shirt she wore—one of Ilsa’s—and shrugged it off. She tugged on a soft cotton top with spaghetti straps for the hot road ahead and, packing the Bible and a pair of sandals into the smaller of her two cases, she closed and latched it. The last of her toiletries went into her overnight bag.
When she opened her bedroom door to bring her luggage out, Max and Søren were waiting. Søren took her two cases without a word. Max grabbed Kari’s overnight bag. They strode through the kitchen and the screen door slammed behind them.
Kari sniffed and straightened. Then she marched into the kitchen and into Ilsa’s arms.
“Goodbye,” she whispered.
“No, in our ancestors’ tongue we will just say, Gud gå med deg. Our God—and our love—will go with you.”
Kari sniffed. “And with you.”
“Ja.” Ilsa squeezed her once more and let her go.
Kari stood at the top of the porch and stared out across the acres of Søren’s farm, trying to hold it close while at the same time letting it go. Then, determined to be brave, she smiled at Max and Søren waiting for her by the Caddy.
She kept her voice low and light. “Everything squared away?”
“I think so.” Søren rubbed his hand across his neck, up the back of his head, and over his close-cropped red-blonde hair, a sure sign of agitation.
I can’t give in to these emotions, Kari told herself. I can’t—or I will never leave. And I must leave. I have work to do. She placed her large handbag containing Rose’s journal on the passenger seat and opened the driver’s door. She kept her face slightly averted.
Then Max plowed into her. He threw both arms around her, sobbing, “Please don’t go, Kari. We love you. We want you to stay.”
Søren’s arms joined Max’s. “I know you have things you must do, but please promise to come back. We-we—”
He didn’t finish, but his arms enfolded Kari and tugged her close. Kari leaned against him and could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart. She pulled back a little and looked up; he released her, took her face in his hands, and placed a soft, chaste kiss upon her forehead.
“Goodbye, Kari. May the Lord bless you and keep you until we meet again,” he whispered.
Søren tore Max away from Kari, and she slid into the Caddy’s front seat. As she glanced up, Søren’s eyes caught and held her.
Blue. So blue! Like mine.
“Not goodbye,” she managed. “Just Gud gå med deg.”
The tanned lines around his eyes crinkled. “Ja, Kari Thoresen Michaels. Ser deg snart. We’ll look for you soon.”
~~**~~
Chapter 2
THE CADDY RACED DOWN THE OPEN ROAD, and Kari’s view through the car’s new windshield was flawless. Hot August sunlight poured down upon her head; miles of road blended together and sped by.
At first, Kari’s thoughts insisted on revisiting those last moments before she left Søren and Max. The feel of their arms about her persisted and sparked a longing in her.
Lord, I left part of myself with them. Please help me to keep Søren and Max tucked safely in my heart until I can return. O God, bless them and keep them safe.
Kari wrenched her thoughts away from the image of Søren’s blue eyes and focused her prayers on the tasks she would face when she returned to New Orleans. I know I have responsibilities waiting for me, Lord, and I know you have spoken to me regarding Elaine and Samuel.
Once she had remembered her siblings, the desire to find them had begun pressing her. Her need had grown stronger, more urgent, during her last week on Søren’s farm—until yesterday.
Yesterday, they had attended the little church in RiverBend. The pastor had preached on the parable of the lost sheep from the Gospel of Luke—and the preaching of God’s word had calmed her. Given her focus.
“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep
and loses one of them.
Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine
in the open country and go after
the lost sheep until he finds it?
And when he finds it, he joyfully
puts it on his shoulders and goes home.
Then he calls his friends and
neighbors together and says,
‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’
I tell you that in the same way
there will be more rejoicing in heaven
over one sinner who repents
than over ninety-nine righteous persons
who do not need to repent.”
The pastor’s message had not focused upon the one sinner who repents but rather on the compassionate heart of God. “Love,” he told the congregation, “involves risk. Love requires sacrifice.
“See how the shepherd risked his entire flock to retrieve one lost lamb? Every lamb is of value to the Lord who made us in his image. Every lamb is worth the life of the Savior. Every lost lamb is worthy of our diligent pursuit.”
At that moment, the parable took on an added dimension for Kari.
O Lord, I have lost two little lambs—Elaine and Sammie. You did not restore my memories for nothing. Now I know that I must be willing to leave everything to seek for them. Thank you for speaking to me with such a clear word.
With that assurance before her, Kari’s emotions had settled. With that assurance, she was able to leave Søren and Max and direct her efforts on the search before her.
Her first stop would be Emporia, Kansas, where she would visit with Matthew and Linda O’Dell. Matthew was Kari’s uncle, the eldest of Joy and Edmund O’Dell’s three sons—Matthew, Jacob, and Luke.
My father’s younger half-brothers.
Matthew had offered Kari a gift she yearned to hold: He had offered Kari custodianship of the remainder of Rose Thoresen’s journals.
Three more volumes!
Kari shivered with anticipation. She longed to soak up more of Rose’s heart through her own words.
Matthew had brought the journals with him to the family reunion at Søren’s farm to compare their handwriting to the handwriting in the journal Kari had found. However, when Matthew and his brothers had opened the old book, they had recognized Rose’s distinctive hand on the spot. And after they determined that Kari was, indeed, their niece and had seen her love for Rose and her writings, they decided that she was the appropriate caretaker for the remainder of Rose’s journals.
Unfortunately, with the emotional upheaval of that weekend, Matthew had forgotten to remove Rose’s other journals from his RV and had unintentionally taken them back home. Kari was now on her way to Emporia to pick them up.
The stop was only a little out of her way. Besides, she was looking forward to seeing her uncle again.
I have uncles! And aunts, and cousins, and second cousins, and . . .
Her newfound wealth of relations and family friends was a continual wonder.
“I can’t say I’m sorry that you must fetch Grandma’s journals from our home, Kari,” Matthew had said over the phone. “With meeting nearly one hundred new family members last week, you were a bit overwhelmed—and we had to share you with others. What we need is a nice, calm, quiet visit to get to know you better.”
I completely agree, Kari thought as the Caddy ate up the miles.
—
IN THE LATE AFTERNOON, Kari wound through the neighborhood where Matthew and Linda lived and found their modest home.
If ever an image epitomized the proverbial house with the white picket fence, this is it, Kari marveled. The cottage-style home was surrounded by a beautifully groomed lawn and lush, overflowing flowerbeds—and yes, an old-fashioned white wooden fence. The fence, with its pointed pickets, spanned the front of the yard and down both sides.
Kari pulled into the driveway. Almost immediately Matthew and Linda rushed out to greet her.
Their arms enveloped Kari and she melted into their welcoming embrace. Kari was again struck by Matthew’s kind eyes as he pulled away to look at her.
> “I can’t get over how much you resemble Mother,” Matthew whispered. “Every time I see you, it takes me back to when I was a little boy watching her in the kitchen baking or doing dishes.”
He chuckled. “It refreshes my heart—makes me feel young again!”
Linda took Kari’s overnight bag while Matthew pulled Kari’s small bag from the trunk and lifted his chin toward the front door. “As soon as we knew you were coming, we pulled out every photo album containing pictures of Mother and Dad. We can’t wait to show them to you.”
Kari swallowed. “You have pictures?”
“Oh, yes. We have pictures!” Matthew said as Linda drew Kari toward the house. “Dad became quite the amateur photographer after we kids were born. He had a little darkroom in a shed in the back yard and always carried a camera with him. We also have pictures of Grandma Rose.”
“What?” Kari stopped halfway up the walk. “You have photographs of Rose?”
“Come and see.”
Kari followed them gladly.
—
HOURS LATER, REPLETE FROM A LATE DINNER and filled to the brim with all the memories Matthew had shared with her, Kari still pored over the albums. Matthew had carried them into the guest room for her private perusal. She studied the old black and white photographs pasted into the books, many of them cracking with age.
When I engage someone to replicate the family photos on Søren’s wall, I will have him come here and photograph these, too, Kari decided. They need to be reproduced before the originals fall to pieces.
Kari scrutinized her favorite photograph of Rose. It was taken, Matthew said, when Rose was in her early eighties. Edmund O’Dell had captured Rose in a moment of reflection. The clarity of that black-and-white image spoke to Kari’s heart.
I will have the copy of this one framed so I can place it near my bed, Kari decided.
Rose sat at a table in a straight-backed chair with her Bible open before her. Her hair, braided and pinned at the back of her head, was silver, streaked with even lighter strands. One hand rested on the Bible’s open pages, but her face was turned slightly away, her eyes focused on some distant point.
All God's Promises (A Prairie Heritage Book 7) Page 3