To Walk In Sunshine

by Sally Laity

  That afternoon, while Ken took a break and came up top for coffee, the first body was brought to the surface. With the announcement of the man’s identity, an almost inhuman wail issued from the miner’s widow, and she collapsed beside his remains sobbing uncontrollably. Others gathered around to offer what little comfort they could. Ken had witnessed similar heart-wrenching scenes too often, each one bringing back the day he and Ma had knelt and wept over his pa and Matt. All he could do was lift the poor woman up in prayer and hope for the others still below.

  By the end of the day, another nine bodies had been carted to the surface, two of them crushed beyond recognition. But amazingly, one man made it out alive. Horribly injured, he was transported immediately to the nearest hospital to be treated, his relieved family members resolved to accept his future no matter what it involved.

  Having known several of the victims personally, Ken needed time to work through his own private grief. He didn’t have it in him to talk much at supper, and the family wisely refrained from intruding. When they left to attend a prayer meeting at church for the victims’ families, he took a walk in the waning daylight.

  When his thicket came into view, a bright spot of color met his eyes. His heart took a joyous leap. Rosa! He should have known she’d be there. He quickened his pace until she caught his gaze and jumped up. . .and the two of them ran the rest of the way.

  Ken’s arms opened of their own volition, and Rosalind flew into them, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so afraid. So afraid for you.”

  He held her close, stroking the shiny hair he’d never imagined could be so silky, lacing his fingers through the glorious curls. The sensation of feeling the surge of her heartbeat against his own awed him and stole his breath.

  “I prayed that God would keep you safe,” Rosa said, drawing back a little to gaze up at him.

  “Thank you. That means more to me than you know.”

  She continued to search his soul. “But something else is wrong, is it not? You have lost friends.”

  With fresh grief rising to the fore, he could not trust himself to speak. He nodded, blinking away the burning behind his eyes.

  Rosalind moved once more into the circle of his arms and hugged him, having nothing to offer other than the comfort of her presence.

  Ken tightened his embrace, inhaling the scent of roses in her hair. It felt so wonderful to have her in his arms, he might have stayed forever—only he was all too aware that night would soon be upon them.

  “I’d better let you get home,” he managed to say, albeit with reluctance. “Or we’ll both be tripping over brush in the dark.”

  She nodded, apparently not much more eager to leave than he. “Will you come again on Saturday?” she asked.

  “Sure will. . .if you’ll be here.”

  “I will be here.”

  Simultaneously, their fingers still entwined, they took a step in their opposite directions. Then Ken squeezed her hand.

  Rosalind turned back, gazing up to him, her beautiful eyes aglow, her rosy lips slightly parted.

  With a smile and a soft moan, Ken tugged her near once more and lowered his face to hers, their breath mingling for the briefest instant before their lips met. Time stood as still as his heart for that moment. But at last it, too, had to come to an end.

  Rosa smiled at him and touched his face with her soft fingertips, then slowly walked away.

  Just having been with Rosalind for those few precious moments buoyed Ken considerably on the trek back to the house. And he vowed that if he lived long enough to pay off the debt at Murphy’s store, he would find another line of work as soon as the opportunity presented itself. With that determination in mind, he pored over the textbooks Mike Jessup had given him until his eyes could no longer focus on the words.

  Nine

  The dawning of a glorious weekend cheered Ken considerably after the sadness of the previous days, especially knowing for certain that he’d be with Rosalind again.

  With David MacNamara’s expected appearance scheduled on the morrow, Ma assigned a few extra morning chores, like nailing down the loose porch step, replacing the missing post in the railing, beating the parlor rug, and getting extra clutter out of sight in the yard and the main part of the house. After that, she seemed only too eager to have him out from underfoot so she could scrub the place spotless.

  He packed a lunch, then got his Bible and engineering book and set off for the thicket, where he relaxed against his reading log and lost himself in concepts of how much steel and concrete it took to support so many feet of bridge, the angles of various spans and how one differed from another. The more he studied, the more fascinated he became.

  His stomach was about to growl when Maloof suddenly bounded from the undergrowth, his long pink tongue hanging out. He came close enough to sniff the area near Ken, his shoes, and the log.

  Although Ken appreciated the dog’s friendliness, his attention centered on Maloof’s enchanting companion, just coming into sight. He closed the book and got up to greet Rosalind, a vision in turquoise and silver. “Hello,” he managed to say past the lump in his throat.

  “And to you,” she said with a misty smile. “I am glad you are here.”

  “Not as glad as I am to see you,” he said teasingly. “I was about to starve to death, waiting.”

  With a light laugh she took her usual spot and produced some fresh peaches from her pocket while he sat next to her. “What are you reading?” she asked, eyeing the big book he’d set atop the log.

  “Oh, this? Just some stuff on building bridges and other structures. It’s pretty interesting, though. Hungry?” He handed her a sandwich made from leftover pork roast.

  “Yes, and thank you.” She waited for him to ask grace, then opened the waxed paper and took a bite of her sandwich. “Are you feeling better today?”

  He nodded but could not prevent a small twinge of sorrow at the reminder of the friends he’d lost. “Some days it’s all I can do to go to work,” he confessed aloud for the first time in his life, “wondering if my number will be up next.”

  “Do not say such things,” Rosa said, her slender brows dipping into a frown. “It is bad luck.”

  He tipped his head and thought for a moment. “I don’t set much store by luck, actually. I can only trust the Lord that He’ll help me through whatever is part of His plan for my life. Even if that does mean my number comes up. That’s faith. I have no fear of death itself, because I know I’ll be with the Lord after I die. But trying to imagine how my family would get along without my help, that’s the hard part.”

  “You know you will be with God? For certain?”

  With a gentle smile, Ken nodded. “I’ll be with Him because I obeyed what He laid out in His Word. I admitted that in myself there is nothing good and that it took the death of His Son on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins and purchase my forgiveness. That’s all it takes. He said it, and I believe it.”

  “I have been reading such things in the Bible you gave me. But I would think much more than that would be required.”

  “Earn our way to heaven, you mean? Build a bridge of good deeds from us to God, as so many people strive to do? Even if that were possible, how would a person ever know when enough had been done? He would never find true peace that way.”

  Rosalind made no reply, but he could still detect confusion in her eyes.

  “What God required was the shed blood of a perfect sacrifice. His own Son was the only One who could meet the qualifications. So God Himself bridged the gap for all mankind, with the cross. Jesus became our sacrificial Lamb and shed His blood for our sins. It was for that reason He came to earth. That’s how much He loved us. But it’s up to us to accept that sacrifice for ourselves.”

  Her features eased into their natural beauty again, and she ate more of her sandwich in thoughtful silence. Then she raised questioning eyes to his. “How is it that you have no wife, a man like you? I should think women would line up at your door.�
��

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, chuckling. “I have so much to offer.” He finished the remains of his own meal and brushed the bread crumbs from his hands.

  “You do, you know,” Rosa said. “Such kindness, such concern for others. Even for me.”

  “What do you mean, even you? I happen to think you are incredibly special.”

  She smiled, then swung her gaze off into the distance. “And your family. . . Would they share your opinion of me?”

  He took a few seconds to formulate an answer before he spoke. “I have to be honest, Rosalind. I don’t really know what they’d say if they knew I was courting a beautiful little gypsy girl.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Courting me?” she asked, cutting him a sidelong glance. “I thought that was a custom your people have to prepare for marriage.” She chewed the last bit of bread and swallowed.

  He reached over and caught her chin with the edge of his finger, then turned her face toward his. “I know it has to do with marriage, Rosa. And I know it’s way too soon for either of us to be considering a permanent commitment. Sure, my family would probably have to be eased into knowing about our relationship. But then, you haven’t exactly taken me to meet your grandparents, either. Do they know you’ve been meeting me up here every week?”

  “They do not,” she admitted miserably, looking down at her hands. “They would have my head.”

  “Well, see? That’s why we have to take things slowly. I do plan to tell my family about you, have you come to the house for dinner, but not until the time is right for both of us. But don’t think my intentions toward you are anything but honorable. I am growing to love you, Rosalind Gilbran. And if God allows it, I would consider it the greatest honor to ask you to become my wife one day. But we have to wait to see what the future holds.” Leaning toward her, he gave her the most tender of kisses.

  ❧

  Rosa could hardly breathe as Ken’s declaration sunk in. He actually loved her! Suddenly the forest became a magical place, where only happiness and peace abounded and nothing bad could intrude. She got up, and in a playful mood, brushed the crumbs from her hands. . .right onto Ken’s head.

  “Oh, so you think you’re gonna be smart, eh?” he said, scrambling to his feet. He reached for her, but she managed to elude his grasp and darted off, laughing, with him in close pursuit. She knew the forest well and dodged around trees with practiced ease, keeping just ahead of him.

  Until a protruding root caught her heel and sent her sprawling.

  “Ouch!” she cried out, as a sharp pain shot up her leg.

  Ken, only a few steps behind her, came and knelt at her side. “Are you okay?”

  “I–I think I did something to my ankle.” Wincing, she rubbed the throbbing joint, trying to ease the discomfort.

  “Oh, no.” Expelling a pent-up breath, he stood and whisked her up into his arms.

  “What do you think you are doing?” she demanded, even as her arms looped about his shoulders.

  “Helping you. Someone has to see that you get home, right?”

  “No. Yes. Oh, I do not know. But you cannot take me there, Ken. Please, say you will not.”

  He halted where he was. “Well, how do you expect to get there on your own? Can you put weight on your ankle?”

  “I have not tried. You did not give me a chance.”

  “Hey, far be it from me to keep both of us in the dark.” He set her down gently on her good foot, but supported her with both his hands.

  Rosa gingerly put her other foot on the ground, then shifted her weight. “Ow. No.”

  “See?” Ken challenged.

  “But this is not good,” she moaned. “You cannot take me home. Not yet.”

  “Too bad your dog isn’t a little bigger,” Ken quipped. “You could whistle for him and ride him home.”

  She pouted up at him, but it quickly turned into a smile. “Yes. Too bad.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “There is a stream not far from here,” she said, thinking aloud. “Perhaps if we put a little cold water on it, I would be able to walk soon.”

  “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.”

  By the time they got to the creek, however, her ankle had swollen considerably. “Not good,” she murmured almost to herself. “This is not good.”

  Ken, holding her injured foot in one hand, cupped his other hand and drizzled water over the swollen ankle. The coolness felt soothing, but Rosa had seen a few sprained ankles in her travels with her grandmother, and she could tell this one was serious.

  She could tell that Ken recognized it as well.

  He finally looked up and met her gaze. “You do know, don’t you, that I am going to have to carry you out of here. Unless you plan on rolling yourself down that hill.”

  Rosa had to smile. But not for long. “What if you take me only partway?” she suggested. “I could hop the rest of the way myself. Truly.”

  He gave her a dubious look, but filled his lungs and swept her up into his arms once more.

  She draped her arms loosely around his broad shoulders and rested her head there, marveling at his strength.

  “Too bad,” he muttered.

  “What is?”

  “Here I have the most beautiful girl in the area in my arms, and she’s in too much pain to enjoy it. Then I have to put her down and desert her, wondering how she’s going to make it the rest of the way.”

  “But I am enjoying it,” she said, kissing his ear. “And it is not your problem to get me home.”

  When they came barely within sight of the encampment, Rosa stiffened. “You must put me down now. This is far enough.”

  “It’s nowhere near far enough,” he objected.

  “Please. You must put me down here. I will be all right.”

  “I don’t know about this, Rosalind. You still have a way to go.”

  “And I will do it myself. Please. No one must see us together.”

  “Okay, but I hope you know what you’re doing. I feel like a clod, leaving you like this.” He set her down, but refrained from kissing her. He ran a fingertip down her nose instead. “ ’Til next time, huh?”

  “ ’Til next time.” How she managed to smile, Rosa would never know as she stood there on one foot, the other one throbbing no matter how she elevated it, and watched the man who loved her walk away. She whistled for Maloof, then sank down into the tall grasses to wait for him.

  “My, my, my,” came a gloating voice, and Nicholas stepped into view from a nearby stand of white birch trees. “What a touching scene. I am sure Abraham will appreciate hearing that his precious granddaughter is consorting with a coal cracker.”

  ❧

  Her people couldn’t be that callous, Ken told himself as he returned to the log for his books. Surely they couldn’t fault a girl for accepting help to get home when she’d been hurt. Even from a miner. He had serious doubts Rosa would even get home by herself. How fortunate that her grandmother was a healer, though. No doubt she’d have some kind of herbal remedy for that ankle. And next Saturday he and Rosa would laugh over the incident.

  Reaching the thicket, he picked up his books and the uneaten peaches they’d forgotten about, then started for home.

  He’d spoken truly to her as they ate lunch. He did plan to invite her to dinner soon. One of these days when Ma was in a particularly good frame of mind, he’d tell her about his and Rosa’s relationship.

  What could happen?

  ❧

  “What?” Grandfather bellowed as Nick deposited Rosa unceremoniously onto the davenport.

  “I said,” Nicholas repeated, “that this granddaughter of yours has a lover. From the mines. They meet secretly in the woods.”

  “He is not my lover,” Rosalind cried in her defense. “He is a friend. I met him some weeks ago by accident. We have done nothing. Nothing but talk.”

  Her grandfather’s dark eyes hardened beneath their shaggy eyebrows, and his mustache bulged outward as he pressed his lips i
nto a thin line. “You will not leave this house alone again,” he declared in a tone of finality, the fury in his glare shriveling her insides. “I will have no granddaughter of mine keeping company with an outsider.”

  “But you would not say that if—”

  “Silence!” he yelled, and smacked the table so hard with his palm that a glass toppled over and crashed to the floor, scattering broken shards in every direction.

  “I told you she needs a husband,” Nick said, pressing his advantage. “One who can control her foolishness.”

  Rosa looked beseechingly to her grandmother, but found only disappointment and uncertainty in her lined face.

  “I must think about this,” Grandfather announced. “She is home now. We will deal with her foolishness, Eva and I.”

  Rosa didn’t know which hurt more, her ankle or the shock in her guardians’ expressions as they escorted Nick to the door and closed it behind him. She fought tears as the loudest silence she had ever experienced filled the house like a smothering fog.

  ❧

  Ken had to admit, David MacNamara was nothing like the concept he’d had of rich folk. Tall and resplendent in a suit that likely cost as much as all their furniture put together, the young man had no superior airs about him. Rather, he seemed at ease in the church service, even taking part in the songs and congregational responses as if he’d always belonged here. His blond wavy hair and patrician features were a fine complement to Hannah’s, and the two of them looked. . .right, as they stood together sharing the worn hymnal. During the sermon, he’d shared his Bible with her, an elegant gold-edged version whose pages bore a goodly number of underlined verses and handwritten notes.

  Afterward, he brought them all home in his motorcar, which delighted Timmy to no end.

  Ma’s nervousness was apparent as they neared the house. “Welcome to our humble dwelling,” she said self-consciously, trying hard to appear at ease.

  David barely gave the place a second look while he helped her and Hannah step out onto the ground without getting grease on their Sunday dresses. “A house is a house. A place to keep the rain off your head. What makes a home is what’s inside.”