by Janette Oke
Mr. Thompson nodded. “That’s what I suspected. Jesse’s working with her. Her belly seems distended. I’ve asked Dr. Shepherd to stop by later today. I hope she’ll come out of it soon.” Offering an explanation to the sisters, he added, “A horse can’t burp or vomit, so they’re vulnerable to gut problems. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Harrison teared up again. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.”
Mr. Thompson crossed the room, dropped to one knee in front of the crying boy. “Son, I want to tell you something. Mrs. Thompson and I, we are planning to adopt you. But we were never going to sell the filly. She was never in any danger of that.”
Harrison kicked out a foot to the side. “I done it now. You wouldn’t want me now.”
Setting a hand on the boy’s leg, the man shook his head and leaned in. “Harrison, I’ve already raised two boys. Don’t you think I’m aware of how much trouble a boy can get himself into? That doesn’t change anything.”
“It don’t?”
“No, it doesn’t. We prayed about whether or not to adopt you. And we believe God showed us that was His plan. He knew this was going to happen. He knew you’d need people to love you anyway. I would never go back on something I believe God asked me to do.”
“No?”
Mr. Thompson shook his head firmly.
“I was kinda ’oping you’d say that.” He blinked hard and added, “I’m sorry, sir.”
Drawing the boy forward into a strong embrace, the man shook his head with a tearful laugh. “Yes, son. I heard you the first time. I can tell how very sincere you are. And I’ll tell you this too.” He looked again into Harrison’s eyes. “I’m not pleased with what you did, but I’m proud of you for coming forward with the truth. I know how much courage that took. I’ve had to speak hard truth before too. So I feel more proud of you now than anything else.” He added, “And Lemuel, look at what a big brother he’s going to be. He refused to give up on you, too, even if it meant he had to take all the consequences on himself. I’m going to have two more sons soon, and don’t you know I’m just busting my buttons when I think of it.”
“If I may,” Constable Hayes broke in, “I have an interrogation to complete.”
Tapping Harrison on the knee once more, Mr. Thompson stood up. “Sorry, Constable. I’ll be quiet now.”
The Mountie leaned forward over the table, scanning around the room from face to face. “It’s fine, sir. This isn’t really a typical interview.”
He asked the last few questions and Harrison answered. Harrison’s demeanor had changed. He was calm now, centered and sincere.
Another knock at the door. This time it opened quickly. Lemuel entered. Rushing from his chair, Harrison threw his arms around his brother. “I’m sorry, Lemmy. I should’a told right away.”
Lemuel patted the back of Harrison’s head with one hand. He rolled his eyes and gave a twisted grin. “Do you think so, ya dumb clod?”
Everyone laughed aloud in relief. Even Grace let the name-calling go unchecked this one time.
Now if only Marisol would recover from her traumas.
Snow had begun to fall again as they exited the police station. Mr. Thompson motioned them to follow. “I’m prepared this time, ladies. I brought the sleigh.”
Piling into the back of his beautifully painted sleigh, Lillian and Grace drew the boys close, nestled down under the blanket that Mr. Thompson had provided them. Walter and Roland waited to wave them off. Lillian dared a glance in Grace’s direction, wincing as she thought of the bad news to come for poor Roland. She was quite certain that by now Grace had made up her mind. She wouldn’t marry anytime soon—and certainly not someone who didn’t share her passions.
And me? What have I decided? Grace knows her calling, but I’ve just followed along. Lillian reached to tuck the blanket more snugly around Harrison and sighed. There were still many obstacles along the way—new families to find for the others in their care, a looming Christmas deadline when the funds would become more limited. But none of it seemed so heavy to bear at the moment. God had intervened, and if He’d done so once, surely He would continue.
The ride home was magical. Their stresses relieved, fresh snow falling, they laughed as the sleigh whooshed along behind the team of pinto mares. Slipping quickly over the snow, they arrived at their road, their gate, then their yard.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Thompson.” Grace hurried into the house with the boys, clearly anxious to tell the others that Lemuel had been released.
Lillian dallied. “Mr. Thompson, I just want you to know how very . . .”
“I understand, Miss Walsh. I don’t hold anything against you. I was told your conversation occurred when you thought all the children were in bed. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Oh, but I’m just so sorry that it did. I feel this is all my fault.”
“We all lean heavily on grace. Myself included.”
He clicked at the horses and they stepped proudly forward, lifting their dainty feet above the snow.
Lillian turned and joined the others indoors. Miss Tilly was offering a fresh batch of cookies. Hazel stood at her elbow, having been the assistant baker.
“Miss Lillian, there’s a letter for you. It’s from your dad,” Milton called excitedly, waving an envelope.
Lillian took the letter from the little boy’s hand. Looking around the bustling kitchen, she opted to retreat to the parlor to read Father’s letter in solitude.
My dear daughter,
I was pleased to receive your latest missive, to find all of you well. And I am glad your picnic was productive, that the fall weather held. By the time you receive this letter, you will likely have had snow in Brookfield. I hope the house is snug for all of you. It warms my soul to know you are safe and secure.
I do not expect to see much snow here, but it rains far more often than I remember. In spite of that I spent some time walking and praying today, so grateful that my Lord hears every plea. I spoke to Him of your little Bryony and the parents who will soon take charge of her. I thought of the boys, Lemuel and Harrison. Such good news to hear that Arthur Thompson and his wife are contemplating their adoption. He’s a good man. He’s had a hand in the proper training of many a young person in town. I would trust him fully with the boys.
As I wandered ling di long I began to contemplate how God works, how mysteriously, how discreetly. I’ve often wondered at His ways. He brought you to us, my dear. He withheld your sister. It perplexes me. And yet, I know from a lifetime of experiences that there must be a greater plan underpinning all.
My dearest Lillian, I felt in your recent letters a reservation, an unvoiced doubt. You are concerned, perhaps, about the way God works. The recent loss of your darling mother would, no doubt, have given you pause to question. She was greatly loved and is sorely missed still. But we do not know the end from the beginning, as our Lord does. And we must, instead, rest in the belief that had it been best for us to keep her, our Heavenly Father would have bestowed upon us that extended blessing.
Psalm 84:11 says, “For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.”
Upon further reflection I considered these things: God preserved her through your childhood and youth. His timing, though not as we would have preferred, was gracious. She was able to complete the greatest joy of her life, seeing you become a woman. For there was nothing that defined her earthly accomplishments more than being your mother. And she was as good a wife to me. What a gift to have known her!
Lillian crushed her handkerchief against her forehead before she could continue.
I envision you now, in her home, serving children from her table, tucking them in at night in the beds that long ago she prayed would be filled with our own progeny. God, in His sovereignty, gave such things to you now, rather than to your dear old parents. Yet it must fill her with joy as she watches over you from heaven. You are the only child she n
eeded. Our quiver was full.
“Oh, Father.” Lillian folded the letter. She could read no more. And then she prayed aloud, “Lord God, I don’t know You the way my father does. But I want to. You caused him to pen words that speak to my heart today, even though this was written weeks ago. And he spoke about Your timing, just like Grace did. I see it. I see You in it. This letter is such a clear description of how You work. I’ve been a doubting Thomas, but I know You haven’t left me. Lead me forward. Help me trust You. And thank You, thank You for the people You’ve placed around me who help my faith to grow. Amen.”
Voices came from behind her. There was laughter passing by as a pair of children climbed the stairs. Lillian was now certain that a God who could rescue Lemuel from the law and Harrison from his own poor judgments—who had already placed Bryony with a family who loved her—was also well on the way to providing for George and Hazel, for Matty and Milton. She didn’t know how their stories would continue, but she knew she wanted to be part of them in any way she could.
Epilogue
Grace’s voice called from the foyer. “Sis? Are you around?”
“In the kitchen.”
Grace appeared beside the wood stove, still wearing her heavy winter coat. She set down her shopping basket and paused in front of the stove to cup cold hands over its radiating heat, then nodded toward the two suitcases now waiting beside the back door. “I see you’ve packed their things for them.”
Lillian nodded sadly.
Leaving the pool of warmth around the stove, Grace crossed the room to give Lillian a hug. “I know how you feel. I can’t believe they’ll be gone tomorrow—so soon after Christmas. We’ll have to do something special with them tonight to make the evening memorable.”
“I suppose. Yes, that would be nice.”
“I brought the mail.”
“Any word from Father?”
“I didn’t look. I just wanted to hurry home before it got too dark. Sorry.”
Lillian pulled the cloth away from the straw shopping basket. She began pulling out the supplies Grace had just purchased, preparing to move them to the shelves in Miss Tilly’s room. Grace slipped out of her coat and began to help. At last Lillian came to the mail that was tucked down along the side. A bill from the grocer. A letter from Lethbridge. That’s all there is.
Lillian tugged at the corner of the envelope until she could slip a finger in, ripped one side open rather impatiently. The carefully penned letter was short and to the point.
Dear Miss Bennett and Miss Walsh,
We regret to inform you that permission for you to operate as a children’s home under the auspices of Brayton House in Lethbridge, Alberta, has been withdrawn. Charges have been filed against you by Mr. and Mrs. Jack Szweda of Kedderton, Alberta. Until the complaint has been thoroughly investigated, we must ask you to suspend all activity as a temporary residence for children. You are to surrender any orphans still in your charge to the management of Brayton House as soon as you are able. We hope to receive your full cooperation in this investigation.
Sincerely, Quinley Sinclair
“It’s from the society.” Lillian gasped. “Grace, look!” Her hand trembled as she passed the page to her sister. “We’re being accused.”
Grace’s eyes widened as she surveyed the letter. Her words came slowly as a whisper. “Oh dear. And we’re probably guilty.”
Bestselling author Janette Oke is celebrated for her significant contribution to the Christian book industry. Her novels have sold more than thirty million copies, and she is the recipient of the ECPA President’s Award, the CBA Life Impact Award, the Gold Medallion, and the Christy Award. Janette and her husband, Edward, live in Alberta, Canada.
Laurel Oke Logan, daughter of Edward and Janette Oke, is the author of several books, including Janette Oke: A Heart for the Prairie, Dana’s Valley, and the RETURN TO THE CANADIAN WEST series, cowritten with her mom. Laurel has six children and several grandchildren and lives in Illinois.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Janette Oke and Laurel Oke Logan
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Preface
1. Lillian
2. Lemuel
3. Grace
4. The City
5. Discovery
6. Crossroads
7. Adjustments
8. Bryony
9. School
10. Hazel
11. Guests
12. Doctor Shepherd
13. Matty and Milton
14. Picnic
15. Hope Valley
16. Gifts
17. George
18. Marisol
19. Thief
20. Sacrifice
21. Kin
Epilogue
About the Authors
Back Ads
Cover Flaps
BackCover
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