by Janette Oke
In stunned silence Beth followed, frightened yet obedient, uncertain she was up to the task ahead—providing nursing duties for a deathly ill child while they drove for hours across rough roads.
Only then did she notice her sister at her side, frightened eyes betraying obvious distress. “I’m sorry, Julie dear,” Beth said. “I must leave.”
“I understand. I’ll be fine. He needs you. Just go.”
Jarrick and Alberto managed to wrap the boy in a blanket and move him into the back seat. Someone else ran up with a jug of water. Beth slid in beside Wilton, cradling his head in her lap and keeping the bowl at hand.
They started down the dusty road, Jarrick driving as carefully as possible to miss the largest of the potholes, but keeping up his speed. Beth could see his hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white. Beth pushed the hair from Wilton’s eyes and laid her other hand on his chest to keep his body from bouncing so much. From time to time he needed to use the bowl. Afterward Beth raised his head, attempting to keep him drinking sips from the jug of water.
“Let’s sing, Wilton,” Beth coaxed him, hoping her voice expressed much more calm than she felt. She began with the song the children had sung at the welcome event for Julie. “Oh, where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy? Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?” To the best of his ability Wilton sang along, his face pale and his voice thin. Beth rubbed his stomach and his arms, hoping to somehow distract him from his obvious pain.
It was a dreadfully long, difficult ride until the mountain roads were behind them and only the wide expanse of prairie lay ahead.
Beth noted the boy’s eyes had closed. “Wake up, Wilton.” She shook him, and his eyes fluttered open again.
“I’m tired, Miss Thatcher,” he murmured.
Beth shook him again. “You must stay awake, darling.” She tried another song, but his eyes continued to flutter.
“Hurry, Jarrick. I think he’s passing out. Or falling asleep—I can’t tell which. Is it bad if he sleeps?”
“Try to wake him again. Pinch him if you have to.”
“Oh, Father, help this child,” she choked out. “Wilton, wake up!”
“I’m awake.” He stirred. “I’m jes’ so tired.”
At last the city came into view, and—finally—the hospital.
Jarrick scooped up the boy and ran into the waiting room to summon help, Beth hurrying along behind. Almost immediately two orderlies and a doctor appeared. Soon Wilton was wheeled away on a gurney.
Beth grasped at Jarrick’s jacket. “Will he—do you think he will be all right?”
He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I think so.” Leaning against Jarrick, Beth let him lead her to the waiting area. He found seats for them, and then they began the long watch. Beth sat stiffly in her chair and Jarrick paced anxiously. “It seems like he would have gotten rid of much of the poison during the trip,” Jarrick said, trying to comfort her. “And the water would also help—”
Just then a white-coated doctor appeared. “I want to assure you both that the boy is doing much better now. He’s resting peacefully and appears to be out of danger. Are you his parents?”
“Oh no.” Beth felt her cheeks growing warm.
Jarrick took a quick step away from Beth. “No, his mother was unable to come. I am a local officer, and this is the boy’s teacher.”
“I see. Well, it’s a blessing that you were able to bring him to us in time. Eventually his body will clear itself of the toxins, but he has certainly ingested a dangerous amount of a very noxious substance.”
“I was afraid that might be the cause of his illness. What happens next?” Jarrick sounded calm, contrary to the flurry of emotions Beth was feeling. She was relieved beyond measure that whatever Wilton had ingested was not going to take his life, but she also was horrified to hear how close he may have come. She breathed out another prayer for his full recovery.
“Well, he will certainly need to rest overnight. In the morning, he may be well enough to travel home again. We’ll have to assess that later.”
“May we see him?” Beth asked.
“For now, he’s sleeping soundly.” The doctor turned his attention back to Jarrick. “I’m sorry, Officer. I didn’t get your name.”
“Constable Jack Thornton.” Jarrick extended his hand.
The doctor shook it. “I will provide a written report of the diagnosis when the boy is discharged. There’s also the matter of the bill, Constable Thornton. How soon will you be speaking with the boy’s parents?”
“That presents some difficulty,” Jarrick answered evenly. “Would it be possible to give us a written copy of the bill? I’m afraid arrangements will have to be made. His mother is a widow, and from a mining community—”
“Now, Constable,” the doctor said quickly, “you understand that the hospital is required—”
“I do understand, sir. And I assure you that arrangements will be made,” Jarrick answered firmly.
The two stood face-to-face for a moment. The doctor finally conceded, “I’ll see that a bill is prepared for you. I’m sure someone will need to contact our director if payments are to be arranged. An appointment will be required for that. The person doing that can stop at the desk or just telephone the office.” He paused. “Are there telephones in the boy’s community?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, then, I trust that you personally, Constable Thornton, will see to it that arrangements are made.” He turned and disappeared down the hall.
Beth had not considered what would happen after the boy had been examined and diagnosed, or how the bill would be paid. They walked from the building in silence to the car, waiting where Jarrick had abandoned it at the front curb.
“Heidi Coolidge doesn’t have much left of her pension,” Beth whispered.
“I know.”
“Then how will she ever . . .” But she didn’t complete her thought.
Jarrick opened the car door for Beth, and she slid into the front seat. He retraced a path around the back of the vehicle and into the driver’s seat.
Jarrick sat quietly thinking for a moment. At last he answered her unfinished question. “We’ll have to pray for a miracle.”
Beth found it difficult to enjoy the unexpected treat of a restaurant meal, picking at the fresh greens which she would normally have found delightful after so many months without. Her mind was on Heidi Coolidge and how she would pay for an expensive hospital stay, and on the question of where and how Wilton had ingested such a dreadful poison.
“I’d offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I’m pretty sure I know what worries you.” Jarrick seemed to be having just as much trouble with his own meal. “The important thing, of course, is that little Willie is going to be well again soon.”
Beth fiddled with the tassels on the tablecloth, avoiding Jarrick’s eye. “I just can’t help but worry about all of the children. What if—”
“Yes,” he agreed quickly. “I assure you that I will be tracking down the source of that toxin.”
“But if Wilton found it, there’s always a chance that any of the others could be in danger. If not now, sometime in the future . . .” Her voice trailed off.
He eyed her thoughtfully. “Please trust me, Beth.”
For a moment she considered confiding in him her own concerns, and then decided against it. She sighed. “I hope you can find out something soon. I don’t think I’ll rest at all until I know.”
Beth glanced through the window at the people walking past. It was a perfect spring evening in the fading light, and she was back in the city. She wished she could shake off her melancholy demeanor enough to enjoy it.
“I did hear some good news,” Jarrick told her. “Paolo has found a job here in Lethbridge. He’ll be leaving soon to live with his mother again. But I’m sorry for Alberto. He’ll miss his son, though I’m sure he’s pleased that the boy won’t have to work in the mine. In the long run, it will likely open more opportunities for h
im—to be in town.”
“That is good news.” Beth smiled. “I had hoped he wouldn’t stay long even though I’ll certainly miss him. Our English classes won’t be the same with his absence.”
She took a big breath, let it out slowly, and set her mind to involve herself in the conversation Jarrick was continuing. Beth could feel the tension leaving her shoulders, the headache that had been threatening slip away. She eventually was able to relax and enjoy cuisine she hadn’t tasted for many months. Actually, she told herself, the setting seems almost romantic, and she felt herself blush as she watched the light from outdoors fade. A candle on the table flickered against the white linen cloth, and the polished silverware beside her plate glittered with each dance of the candle’s flame. Beth felt at ease, expressed in a soft sigh of contentment. Jarrick was good company. Attentive. Communicative. And sincere. Not like those silly boys who vied for my attention in the past, she thought, then dropped her eyes to her plate in case her expression gave her away.
They lingered over dessert and coffee, Beth reluctant to let the moment go. Just as she wondered if Jarrick might be getting ready to call for their bill, he summoned the waiter to refill their coffee cups, apparently enjoying the time as much as she was. Beth stirred actual cream into the rich coffee and, cup in hand, settled back to enjoy the pleasant, meaningful conversation. For the moment, thoughts of little Wilton, now in good hands, ceased to trouble her.
But Jarrick’s demeanor seemed to alter. In the light from the candle, Beth thought his eyes now held a seriousness, an intensity, that hadn’t been there before. He studied her with a pensive expression. “And what about you?”
“Me?” She looked at him.
“How long do you think you’ll stay in Coal Valley?”
The unexpected question caught Beth off guard, her mind a jumble of reactions. She shrugged, feeling a bit shy. “My teaching contract is for just one year. I have started to wonder—to consider—what I would do if I were offered an extension to that time, but there’s no way for me to know if it will even be a possibility.”
“Well, before long summer will be upon us again. And the school year will have ended. I just thought you might already know what comes next for you this summer.”
Beth frowned and sighed again. “I suppose I’m going home. Mother would never forgive me if I didn’t, and I’ve no reason to stay here. . . .” She let the words trail away.
It was silent for a few minutes, until Jarrick asked, “What do you think of the West? How do you like living out here? I’m sure it’s very different from what you’re used to—far fewer amenities, even here in Lethbridge. Would you ever consider making your home here—permanently?”
She could feel a prickle of fear at his inquiry. Or maybe it was hopefulness? At this moment the palpitations of her heart were indistinguishable. How can I answer such a question?
“As I said, my parents expect me home,” she said slowly, “at least for the summer. But should I be asked to teach again, I would certainly consider the option.” She blushed and hurried on, “I would be very happy to consider the option.”
He leaned forward, moving his hand closer to the center of the table. “I know the town would be grateful to have you return.” He hesitated for a moment, looking intently into her eyes. “I would be . . . well, pleased to hear that you planned to return.”
The moment was filled with an intensity Beth had never experienced before. It both disturbed and energized her. She did not know how best to manage such emotion. Julie would have navigated it well, but Beth . . .
She allowed herself a little laugh. “It’s funny that I hadn’t thought of it before. But the truth is, if I chose not to return to Toronto, my mother would probably send Edward along to escort me home—forcefully, if necessary.”
“Edward?”
She could feel herself fiddling with her napkin. “Oh, he’s somewhat of my mother’s pet. She dotes on him.” Beth gave a little laugh again. “Did I ever tell you that he’s the one who found my violin? Just like the compass—the one he sent with you. The violin had been stolen, and Edward searched high and low until he recovered it. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am to have it again.”
Jarrick was slowly leaning back in his chair, withdrawing his hand. The change in his disposition confused Beth. His gaze turned toward the window and he said, “That’s . . . that’s wonderful for you. I’m glad he was persistent. You must have truly missed the violin—you play it so beautifully.” He paused for a moment and then continued in an almost off-hand manner, “Well, I certainly hope you’ll consider teaching out here again. The town would be blessed to have you.”
CHAPTER
24
JARRICK ARRANGED FOR BETH to spend the night in the home of friends, a young couple working with the same church organization as Philip. A warm reception and a comfortable room meant a good night’s sleep. Jarrick bunked out at the RCMP post on the edge of town. The following morning, Beth was relieved to learn that Wilton would be able to return to the mountain town with them. “Thank You, Lord, thank You.”
On the way to the hospital, Jarrick cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask you for a favor—even though you might not understand the reason just now.”
Beth nodded and waited.
“I know you heard Wilton’s doctor refer to the toxin that the boy drank. In reality, Beth, the drink was alcohol based. It was bootleg liquor.”
“But I thought you said it was poison,” she contended.
“And it was.” His tone was sad. “Beth, I’m sure you have no idea what is in the kind of stuff that is bought and sold as ‘hooch.’ It has an alcohol base—but it’s made with anything that can be found—including antifreeze and dead animals. The doctor was correct when he called it toxic. Indeed, it was almost fatal.”
Oh no, Lord, our worst fears . . . Horrified, Beth turned to him, her thoughts churning. Liquor—to the children—a kind that could easily kill someone! Are we all in danger? Who would give that to a child?
Seeing her reaction, he hurried on, “I am most definitely determined to discover more about it—that has been and will continue to be my own top priority during the coming days. But I’d like to ask you, Beth, to keep that information just between us for now.”
“Why?” she demanded, appalled. “Shouldn’t the families be warned?”
“I’m afraid that if others know, it will make my job much more difficult—and there are aspects to my investigation I can’t reveal at this time, even to you. So it’s essential for the time being not to mention this to anyone. If you do it may well jeopardize the whole operation, which we’ve been working toward for months.” He turned his eyes to meet hers. “Can you do that, Beth?”
At first she sat as if numb—then finally nodded, more questions rising now than before. Investigation? This has been his work, what he has been doing? And where?
“They gave me ice cream,” Wilton announced once he was settled in the vehicle. “An’ I got ta sleep in a bed that folded up. Like this.” He gestured with his hands. “An’ the doctor said I’m a brave little buckaroo. Miss Thatcher, what’s a buckaroo anyways?”
Beth smiled as best she could from the front seat as he jabbered on without waiting for an answer. The car pulled out onto the highway. Even though she was listening to Wilton’s tumbling stream of narration about his experiences, her eyes were studying Jarrick. He was strangely withdrawn, though Beth was uncertain as to why. Perhaps he was more worried than he had let on concerning the source of the deadly liquor.
Her gaze drifted along the grassy roadside rushing past her window. She wondered what Julie had done during her absence. She thought about the interrupted church picnic and felt sorry the event had not gone as intended. Then her thoughts went to the hospital bill they must deliver to poor Heidi Coolidge and the anxiety it was certain to create. Her thoughts shifted again to the man beside her. Is he lost in concern about the Coolidge family?
And so the hours wen
t by, Wilton once more asleep in the back seat, and the other two silent in the front.
As if their arrival had been predicted, a crowd quickly gathered on the street. Heidi hurried forward, clutching her youngest baby on one hip. “Willie, Willie, you all right? Goodness, I’m so glad to see ya up and around! I’ve been so worried.” She pulled him close against her, lips trembling with emotion. “Thanks be to God, you’re home again safe.”
Julie made an appearance. “Oh, he looks so much better now. How was the trip? I hope it went well.” Beth fell into her arms, relishing the comfort of being held by her sister, though Beth knew there was nothing much she could explain about Wilton’s illness.
They were not given the opportunity to be alone again until after the noon meal. Though it was Monday, school had been canceled in Beth’s absence, and the afternoon remained empty before them. Despite the troubling events, Beth would need to use at least some of the day to prepare her lessons for the remainder of the week.
Molly had gone to pay a visit to Frances, and Marnie and Teddy were fishing. This meant that the kitchen table was unused and quiet—a perfect place for Beth to spread out her work. Julie fumbled around for a short while, fixing some tea for both of them. Beth knew the conversation ahead would be difficult because of the secrets she was required to keep, but she must not let on that there was anything distracting her.
“Well, Julie, what did you do while I was gone?”
A teasing smile crossed Julie’s face. “Why, Bethie? Does it make you worried? That I was here, and you were not around to make sure I was behaving?”
“Even more so now that I see you find it amusing.” Beth set down her pencil and gave her full attention to her sister, willing herself to focus on Julie instead of her own troubled thoughts.
Julie giggled. “I didn’t do a single thing. Or rather, I did many lovely things—helpful, friendly things. You would have been quite proud.”
“Hmm.” Beth was doubtful. “Tell me about it.”