by Janette Oke
Beth pushed her way into the dining room, past the men who were standing waiting for breakfast to be served. She moved with determination straight toward Nick Costa.
“Beth,” Nick smiled in greeting. “So good to see—”
“We must speak,” she said evenly. “Please, follow me.”
Retreating into the entryway, Beth turned without explanation. “I must ask you to deliver a note to Jack Thornton.”
He stared at her.
“I need you to pass on a note to Jack,” she reiterated. “It’s important. It’s an emergency, in fact.”
“But why me? Why do you—”
Beth leaned closer. “Can you, or can you not, deliver my note? Or do I have to find a way to get it to him myself?”
His eyes squinted slightly, but he admitted, “I can.”
“It must go right now.”
He merely nodded.
Beth reached inside her sleeve and pulled out the paper. She hesitated before releasing it to him. “No one—no one else can read it. No one but Jack.”
“I give you my word,” he answered soberly. And in a moment Nick was gone, his car sputtering away up the road.
Beth patrolled the main floor of the house as inconspicuously as she could, watching that Marnie stayed in the kitchen with Molly and that Teddy remained upstairs. She was not surprised that she did not wait long. Jarrick’s car slid to a stop beside the front gate, followed closely by Nick’s vehicle.
Jarrick entered with resolute steps. “Get the children.” Beth hurried to comply, leading first Teddy and then a dazed Marnie to where he waited.
“You are both going with Mr. Thornton,” Beth told them, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “We can’t talk about why right now. Please just go as quickly and quietly as you are able. I’ll explain to Molly.”
Teddy reached for his sister, putting an arm around her protectively, and they disappeared together into the waiting car. Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Then she reached for her coat and felt a hand grasping her arm. Molly stood in astonishment, staring out at the departing cars.
“I’m sorry, I can’t explain now, Molly. But I’m bringing all the children in to roll yarn today. I think that’s what we’ll do for school.”
Molly was still gaping as Beth rushed out. It took very little time to knock on all the doors in the little row of houses, informing each of the mothers that all students would begin the day at Molly’s home for a special project. Then Beth hurried back again, her breathing labored under the weight of the events she had set in motion.
Soon they appeared, two or three at a time, all her treasured children. Beth ushered them in to the parlor and seated as many as possible, then led the rest into the dining room. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, waving her arms. “We still have a great deal of yarn to roll, and time has gotten away from us. Pastor Davidson gave us one last box when he was here last week. So we need to finish up this morning. But we can do it.” She made a good attempt at a smile. “You’ve all done such a wonderful job so far—let’s see how quickly we can finish.” She was grateful that they were compliant and didn’t ask any questions.
However, upon closer inspection of the circle of students, Beth noticed that Addison was absent from among them. “Luela, why didn’t Addison come?”
“Oh, Miss Thatcher, Mr. Thornton—he come and got Addie in his car. I thought ya knew that.”
A shiver ran through Beth’s body. Then she quickly reminded herself that Jarrick had them all together. They would be safe with him. “Oh, yes, Luela, that’s right. . . .” Fortunately the exchange had not prompted any questions.
The clock made awfully slow circles measuring off the morning hours. They were running out of yarn, and Beth was trying to think of how she would keep the children occupied once that was depleted.
Suddenly a frantic knock on the door, and Frances rushed inside without waiting for someone to open it.
“Molly,” she called out, “Molly!”
Beth followed her to the kitchen. “They caught that wretched man,” cried Frances over her panting breaths. “They caught him, I tell you. With all his spite and wickedness—right there with his own hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Those Mounties are goin’ through his place, both up and down—this very minute.”
Molly shushed her with a finger to her lips, gesturing toward the children with her eyes. “Lookin’ fer what?”
“Hooch!” Frances almost shouted, despite the warning.
Molly’s face instantly went white, and then she turned slowly toward Beth. “Where’s my kids?” Beth was taken aback by her severe expression.
“With Jack.”
“Now, I let you be all mornin’ long—I asked ya nothin’ at all. I didn’t like it, but I let ya be. Now yer gonna tell me right this very moment why my own kids ain’t here.”
If Davie is truly in custody, what harm will it cause now for Molly to know? Frances has found out already. Beth answered quickly, “Teddy, he didn’t want to, but they were making him deliver the liquor for them. Marnie and Addison knew. I believe the children went to show Jack where the still was kept and to testify that it belongs to Davie Grant.”
“No need for testifying now,” Frances asserted. “I heard they got him stone-cold guilty.”
By noon Jarrick’s car had returned, along with several other official-looking vehicles all crowding the short street of Coal Valley. The children, no longer able to be restrained indoors, were gathered in the yard, watching the amazing sight in excitement and disbelief. When, at last, Davie himself was led from the company hall toward a waiting car, shouts erupted, followed by a cheer. Beth tried to hush the children but was ignored.
Suddenly, from the corner of Beth’s eye, she spotted Molly pushing past the crowd of children and out through the gate, crossing between the cars and the men in blazing red uniforms who were supervising the scene.
“Davie Grant,” she shouted, marching defiantly toward him, “ya despicable coward! Usin’ children ta do your dirty business—my children. You answer me now! You answer me now!”
“Molly, no.” Frank came from nowhere to reach for her arm and hold her in check.
“No, Frank, ya best let me go. I’m gonna tell him just what he is.”
Frank held tight his grasp. “Just let’a him go, Mollina. He can’a hurt them no more.”
Molly struggled. “I’m jest gonna tell ’im what kinda man he is.”
“No, Mollina. No. You’re’a better than this.”
Her anger broken, she turned and wept on Frank’s shoulder, his stub of an arm patting her back comfortingly. A moment later, Teddy and Marnie fell into her embrace, and all Molly’s attention was lavished upon them.
Beth noticed that one of the officers who had turned toward the commotion was Edward Montclair. She had never guessed he might also be part of the inquiry, even though Jarrick had as much as told her when he remarked that Edward’s specialty was investigation. In fact, Edward himself had admitted he was in the area for a special assignment. Beth was certain nothing could surprise her now.
Beth sat on the front porch, her head resting against the cool wood of Molly’s rocker, and watched the sunset tint the clouds in beautiful shades of scarlet and orange. Once more she was mulling over the string of preceding events.
The evening after Davie’s arrest, Jarrick and Nick Costa, who was now in full RCMP uniform, had called a town meeting in the company hall. They had presented much of the information that had been gleaned and about which many rumors had quickly spread. Davie was not the only person to be detained. They had also taken into custody two of his partners, along with poor Helen Grant. Beth’s heart ached to think that the beleaguered woman had been implicated due entirely to her husband’s actions. But she soon was relieved to hear that Helen was expected to be released quickly.
It was explained to all that the miners had nothing to do with the trafficking in prohibited liquor, except of course for the one man who ha
d aided in their sting operation. It came as news to Beth that the company men had been instrumental—and entirely cooperative—in the process of the investigation, assisting in many unspecified ways.
Lastly, the townsfolk were assured that a thorough search had been completed in the Grants’ home and business, as well as around the two stills in the woods, now destroyed—one near the meadow and one in the cave, just as Beth had eventually suspected. They were assured that there was no longer reason to be concerned for the safety of their children.
Beth smiled even now as she recalled the look on Frank’s face when Molly had first mentioned her concern for Helen Grant’s cat, all alone in the upstairs quarters. “But she’ll die if no one helps her,” Molly had prompted. So Frank, head shaking, carried little plates of food from Molly’s kitchen to the Grants’ second-story home and pushed them gingerly through a very small opening of the door, the beastie hissing and clawing its vehement protest all the while.
As Beth sat basking in the lingering glow of the sunset, it seemed as if all the world was at peace at last. School would be over in only a handful of days, and then Beth would be packing up for the trip back home. The thought wrenched out a deep and sorrowful sigh. One year had seemed so awfully short.
Did I get done what You wanted me to do, Lord? she asked. And then words from deep within seemed to be telling her, I don’t measure in time but in what happens inside a person. These children have learned life lessons that will be with them long after their school days are over. . . .
“Miss Thatcher,” Marnie said, stepping forward shyly, “we got somethin’ for ya.” It was the end of the last day of classes and all the mothers were standing at the back of the room, ready to share in their children’s accomplishments.
Beth’s breath caught in her throat.
“Can ya come see?” Marnie urged her toward a table hidden behind several figures crowding in front of it.
Beth followed Marnie and soon was in the center of the group of children. She reached her arms around as many shoulders as she could, already fighting back tears.
“We wanna thank you fer—for teaching us this year. We learned a lot. And you were our best teacher ever.” This from Addison, his voice strong and steady.
James passed to Marnie a small bouquet of flowers. “We got you these,” the young girl said quietly, putting them into Beth’s hands.
Beth blinked away emotions as she viewed the small bouquet of spring flowers. How and where this early in the season did they manage to find enough to tie up with a pretty pink ribbon? Beth accepted the bouquet and smiled around at the group.
“An’ that’s not all.” Miles gestured toward a small box in the center of the table. “We all wrote ya letters—like we did at first. Miss Molly said you’d like that well as anything.”
Beth nodded wordlessly. A perfect gift.
“So here, Miss Thatcher.” Marnie passed the box to Beth and stepped aside.
For a moment Beth struggled to find her voice, surveying the room around her—the smoky tavern which had served as a schoolroom, filled now with mothers and children. “It’s been my great pleasure teaching in Coal Valley this year. I know I’ve learned much as well—from you and from everyone here. I have to say, I’ve come to feel such fondness for this community—and so much hope for its future.” She again scanned the room. “Your friendship is such a priceless gift to me. When I leave here in just a few days, I will not be the same woman as before I came.”
Applause followed. Beth stepped out of the center of attention, preferring instead to speak individually with the mothers, to somehow express all the emotions pent up inside her.
One of the last to approach was Esther Blane, with whom Beth had managed little interaction previously. She came quietly, awkwardly. “I know I ain’t good at sayin’ what I mean. But I just want to try—so you can understand.” She lowered her head and took a deep breath. “When my husband was . . . was killed I . . . I died too—kinda. I mean he . . . he was gone but I . . . I was still here, in body. My spirit was kinda gone too, I think. I didn’t care, I didn’t feel—’cept all that hurt. I was jest goin’ through my daily work and not doin’ it well either. My little ones—they needed me, but I jest wasn’t able to help them. Not really. I . . . guess I gave up tryin’.” She shifted nervously before continuing.
“We all been talkin’ ’bout what ya done for our town. An’ I ’preciate it all—along with the rest a’ the town. Ya brought a lot to us—to our children. But to me ya brought more than what ya done. Ya brought back hope—an’ faith—things I didn’t know I lost. I’d stopped goin’ to church. I’d stopped prayin’—right when I needed it most. An’ then when my kids got excited ’bout those little Bible plays, I decided to go along with ’em.
“That one about David and Goliath. That was me. I was fightin’ somethin’ way bigger than me—me bein’ a widow now. But I . . . I wasn’t goin’ in the name of the Lord. That was my problem. I come back home that night and went to bed cryin’—but I ended up prayin’ too. If David could fight that big ol’ giant Goliath—and God could make him win—then I could start fightin’ again too. The same God who helped him could help me. My life ain’t easy—but it got better. God’s been helpin’ me—every day. I know that. I’m so thankful that ya told us that story. I needed to hear it again.”
Beth reached to hug her close and they cried a little together. There were no words left to say. Esther pulled away and breathed in deeply, then turned to gather little Anna Kate and Levi, directing them toward the door. Beth wiped away the fresh tears. “God, keep them,” she whispered. “God, keep them all.”
Molly came next and hurried Beth away from the last few, pulling her out the door before she could try to pitch in with tidying the room. Now that Helen had returned home, her evening pool-hall business was in operation again.
“Ya done enough,” Molly declared as they stepped out together into the cool afternoon. Beth lifted her face to the tree-covered slopes surrounding them, and to the white peaks reaching to the skies. She stopped for a moment to take it all in.
Suddenly, there beside the path stood a man dressed in civilian clothes. Should she be afraid? He stepped forward with a smile. It’s Edward!
CHAPTER
27
I DIDN’T WANT TO INTERRUPT,” Edward said. “I was in the back of the room, but I didn’t want to be a distraction from what the ladies and the children were saying to you.”
“But what are you doing here, Edward?” Beth stared back at him. It had been so long since she had seen him dressed in anything other than his uniform. He still looked every bit as distinguished as Beth remembered. Those dark green eyes showed his new maturity.
Molly was excusing herself. “I’ll meet ya back at home,” she called as she hurried off.
“They said you went back to Athabasca. What brings you so far, Edward? Surely not just the last day of school.”
“I wanted to speak with you. I hoped this would provide a good opportunity and a measure of privacy.”
Casting a glance toward the pool hall, Beth suggested, “Perhaps Miss Molly’s front porch would serve us.”
He motioned her forward with a sweep of his hand, and they silently walked to the boarding house. Once Beth was comfortably seated on one of Molly’s chairs, Edward pulled the other closer and dropped into it.
Beth could sense he was unsure of himself, an unusual frame of mind for Edward. There was a hesitancy, yet determination, in his voice. “Elizabeth,” he began, “you know I have always regarded you highly. Indeed, I’m certain I have held you in an esteem which you often neither recognized nor could return. And seeing you today—in your moment of triumph—I cannot begin to express how proud I felt to know you. And more than that, to admit I was emphatically wrong about you. I’m so pleased to discover I misjudged you when I criticized your motives—” he paused before completing the thought—“when I called you stubborn and headstrong.”
Beth assured him, “I
haven’t been angry at you, Edward. I forgave you long ago. Even before you had asked me—do you remember?”
He nodded. “That’s very kind.” He repositioned himself in his chair. “You know that our mothers—at least my mother—have always assumed that you and I would one day marry. I have thought so too. I know—I realize that you have never given me cause to . . . to expect your agreement, but Mother consistently advised that I must let you grow up first—not press you with a proposal until it was the proper time. Even after your coming-out party, I waited in hopes that your feelings toward me would begin to change.” He floundered to a halt. “Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m making a terrible mess of this, aren’t I?”
With everything in her being Beth wanted to nod in agreement with his statement but held herself in check. Surely Edward did not consider this an appropriate time to present his case.
“The fact is, Elizabeth, I had always intended to ask for your hand. Had never thought of anyone else. My . . . my admiration has only grown. Seeing you here, watching the respect you have earned in this community. You have indeed revealed yourself to be an astonishing young woman, and I . . .” He hesitated again.
Beth’s heart cried silently, Please, Edward, you don’t even know me—not really. Please don’t assume . . .
He was speaking again. “And since—well, since it’s been widely presumed both by members of my family and yours—I felt it was important that I should speak with you. You see . . .” He put a hand on her arm to bring her eyes to his. She raised her gaze while he struggled for words, his eyes entreating her to hear him out. “You see, Elizabeth, I have met a young woman. Her name is Kate. I feel she is . . . is . . . Well, simply put, I have fallen in love. Quite madly in love. I feel she is exactly what I want—what I need in a wife. And she seems to return that feeling.” He stopped and took a deep breath.