A Place Called Home (A Place Called Home 1)

by Lori Wick

  Luke seemed restless, Christine thought, but then maybe she had imagined it.

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  Pastor Nolan ended his sermon by suggesting some good verses to refer to when fears assailed. Joshua 1:9: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed, for the Lord thy God is with thee wherever thou goest.” Psalm 27:1: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” Hebrews 13:6: “We may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.’ ” Isaiah 41:10: “Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

  The service closed with the congregation standing and reading the 23rd Psalm. Christine noticed that Luke recited it from memory. Christine was discouraged as she left church. There was so much to learn. With this on her mind, Christine failed to notice Luke’s rather quiet demeanor on the way home.

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  Luke thought much about the sermon on the wagon ride home. He felt very convicted about not giving his fears to God. It was fear, plain and simple, that kept Luke from telling Christine about the burned man at the hotel-fear that she would panic and go back to Spooner, and he would lose her forever.

  These thoughts rode him hard, even as they arrived back at Grandma Em’s and went in for Sunday dinner.

  “There’s

  my girl.” Susanne spoke tenderly to her infant daughter as she transferred her to Christine’s arms. “Fed and dry, Christine, you’re getting Eliza at her best.”

  Christine laughed softly. “I never would have believed how much fun it could be to be chased out of the kitchen. I put up a fight, but Julia was adamant. I’ll have to thank her.”

  The two women were in Grandma Em’s room. Sue buttoned her blouse as Christine gently rocked the baby. The usually quiet Sue surprised Christine when she broke the silence with a question.

  “Should we be asking God to give you a baby, Christine?”

  Christine’s look was so startled that Sue laughed.

  “Don’t you think I should start with a husband?” Christine finally asked.

  “Do you have anyone in mind?” When Christine didn’t answer the question, Sue went on. “If you don’t, I do.”

  “I rather thought you might. Does he happen to be the spitting image of your husband?”

  Susanne smiled, not at all sheepish about being so transparent. “It is a nice face to wake up to every day.” When Christine blushed, Sue went on softly. “If Luke lets you get away, Christine, I may never speak to him again.”

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  A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Mark entered. He joined his wife on the edge of the bed and smiled at the sight of Elizabeth on Christine’s shoulder.

  “I was just asking Christine if we needed to ask God for a baby for her.”

  “Don’t you think she should start with a husband?”

  “Who should start with a husband?” Christine could hardly believe her ears. How could a man of his size move so quietly?

  Luke stood patiently awaiting an answer. When none came, he approached the rocking chair and knelt down next to Christine and Elizabeth. Christine watched him look at the baby before turning his attention to her. “She’s too fair to be… yours.” Luke stopped just short of saying ours, and Christine didn’t miss the pause.

  “I would take her anyhow.” Christine spoke quickly, hoping to direct Luke’s attention back to his niece, but to no avail-his eyes were still searching her face.

  Christine was glad of Sue’s interruption just then. She took the baby and put her in the basket by the bed. All four adults quietly left the room. Mark and Sue led the way down the stairs. When it was Christine’s turn to follow, she held back, causing Luke to stop behind her.

  Turning, she asked, “Luke, is anything bothering you?”

  “Tell her, Luke,” an inner voice prompted. “Tell her about the man at the hotel.” But when he spoke, it was only “No.”

  Christine smiled at him, thinking again that she had imagined his restlessness at church.

  The day sped by with good food and fellowship. Christine was moved away from the kitchen every time she headed that way, even for the most innocent of reasons.

  By the time Luke said goodbye, with the time drawing near for the horses to be fed, Christine had completely forgotten that she had thought something was wrong. Luke had been happy and charming all afternoon. They had worked together on Christine’s memory verses. Laughing

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  away her earlier hesitation that stemmed from a fear of not being able to memorize all eight verses, Luke said they would take as much time to memorize together as they needed.

  Twice he had held her hand, once at the dinner table and again after she had read Emily a story. Christine climbed into bed that night with a glow about her as she remembered the way Emily had fallen asleep in her lap and the way Luke had reached for her hand and held it between them. She marveled again at the way he made her feel little and protected with the mere act of placing her hand in his.

  With these happy thoughts Christine fell asleep, praising God for love, happiness, and Luke Cameron.

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  “It snowed! It snowed!”

  Mac squinted up at the little boy sitting in the middle of his chest. Beside him he heard Julia’s breath leave her in a rush as Charles landed on her stomach, enroute to joining his brother.

  “It snowed, Papa,” Charles added, in case his father had missed Calvin’s words.

  “And you two are going to see that I can’t enjoy it by crushing my chest!” The boys grinned indulgently at their father. Both were quite sure that nothing could crush John MacDonald’s chest.

  “We prayed and God sent the snow, didn’t we, Cal? We prayed every night in our beds.”

  “Charlie’s right. We prayed and asked God to send it for Thanksgiving. We asked for Christine.”

  Mac had pulled Julia close, and with her head pillowed on Mac’s shoulder she asked, “Why for Christine?”

  “Because that day she came out to swing with us, she told me and Cal that she’d never been in a snowball fight.”

  Mac cleared his throat. “That was very kind of you boys to think of Christine. I’m proud of you.”

  “Don’t cry, Mama! The snow is here. It’s okay now.” Charles’ concerned look and caring words just caused Julia to cry harder. Mac reached past her for the handkerchief she usually kept under her pillow.

  After handing it to Julia, Mac again spoke to the boys. “Your mother’s tears are because she is just as proud of you as I am, that you prayed and thought of Christine’s happiness.”

  “Is Christine going to marry Uncle Luke?”

  “Why do you ask, Charles?” Julia asked as she dried her face.

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  “They were holding hands on Sunday and Uncle Luke smiles a lot.”

  “Yeah,” Charles joined in. “He still plays and talks with us, but his eyes are always watching Christine.”

  “Well, I think that Luke and Christine care for each other, but marriage is a big step, and until they decide what they want and share it with us-” Mac paused here to make sure he had both boys’ attention-“we are not going to ask them or bring the subject up. Understood?” Both boys nodded solemnly. “Okay, go get bundled up. We’ve got some shoveling to do.”

  The boy’s shouts and laughter echoed back to Mac and Julia’s ears as they ran for their room.

  “What’s the frown for?”

  “Well, you just told the boys we’re not going to ask Luke and Christine what’s going on, and I was hoping you would talk to Luke and find out how he feels.”

  “Julia, my sweet, that is none of our business.” His voice was patient.

  “I know! That is precisely why I was trying to figure a way to find out.” She stated this so matter
-of-factly that Mac burst into gales of laughter. Julia hit him with a pillow, but to no avail. He was still chuckling when he was dressed and ready to leave the room.

  He bent over Julia, who was buried beneath the covers in bed, his face close to hers.

  “Do you know what I’m thankful for?”

  Julia smiled, sure she would hear a loving endearment.

  “I’m thankful that being married to Julia means never being bored.” Mac kissed the tip of her nose and scooted toward the door. He slipped out an instant before another pillow sailed through the air.

  “Go ahead, Luke, I don’t mind staying.” “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you here.”

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  “You haven’t seen Christine since Sunday. Go, Luke! It doesn’t take both of us to check on this colt.”

  “Forget it, Silas! We’re in this together and I won’t hear another word about it.”

  Silas turned away. When Luke made up his mind, there was no swaying him.

  The men had come out that morning to find a mare had foaled unexpectedly. The colt seemed to be all right, but it was small, and for the sake of both horses it was best to be sure there was no problem.

  So Luke stubbornly stood at the stall of the first-time mother and newborn colt, thankful for its safe arrival but wishing he could be with Christine.

  “I hate having Paul gone on the holidays. You wouldn’t think with the mob we’ll have here that I could miss anyone, but I do.” Grandma Em’s voice was wistful.

  “Who is Paul the most like?”

  “Oh, he’s such a combination, yet he’s his own person. He’s a wonderful listener like Si and a gentle presence like Mark. But he can also be very commanding and behave like Luke. And like Julia, there’s also that side of him that flaunts convention.”

  “He sounds too good to be true.”

  “No, no. He’s far from perfect! He struggles with doubts and fears, and they sometimes get the best of him.”

  “You never did say what you were the most thankful for in Paul’s life.”

  Grandma Em stopped her peeling and looked thoughtful. “I guess I’m most thankful he went to seminary school. It was no easy decision, I can tell you. He was so unhappy at the ranch. He’d been raised with those horses but he wasn’t satisfied to stay on, as Luke and Silas were. He considered going into medicine. He even went out with Mark a few times, but it just wasn’t for him. His letters home are filled

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  with the joy of the Lord. So I guess I’m thankful he’s where he’s supposed to be and happy about it.”

  The women went on with their dinner preparation. The turkey was cooking and the potatoes were peeled. Christine was working on pumpkin and mincemeat pies. Both Julia and Susanne were bringing dishes so that everything would not be left to Grandma Em and Christine.

  “You never asked me what I’m thankful for today.”

  Grandma Em looked surprised. “You’re right, I didn’t. Will you tell me now?” she asked kindly.

  “I’m thankful for you,” Christine answered with her head down, her voice quiet and thick with tears as she rolled out the pie dough. She stopped when she felt Grandma Em at her side. The women hugged and cried silently for a time.

  “Do you remember how awful our first meeting was?”

  “Yes, I was scared to death of you.”

  “I said that awful thing about you stealing.”

  Both women found this all highly amusing. So when the MacDonald family entered a few minutes later, it was to find Christine and Grandma Em with the giggles, their eyes still wet with tears.

  Mac hugged both women and then stood regarding them in turn. “There must be something in the air. Julia has been crying today too.”

  “Ours were tears of joy,” Christine told him.

  “Hers were too,” he smiled back at her.

  “Well, look at you two!” Grandma Em spoke to the little boys standing around Mac’s legs. “You look like you’re ready to brave the snow.”

  “We’re here for Christine,” Calvin announced.

  “That’s right, we’re going to show her how to have a snowball fight.”

  Christine laughed with delight and knelt down to pull both heavily garbed boys into her arms. They both became suddenly shy, and Christine said, “I’ll go get ready.”

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  “Not very good, am I?”

  Trying to be tactful, Calvin hesitated, but Charles spoke right out.

  “You’re a terrible thrower, Christine! You haven’t hit a thing you’ve aimed at!”

  “Well, she throws it pretty far, though-just not in the right direction.” Calvin spoke now in an effort to soften Charles’ words.

  Christine bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. The boys were so serious. Charles had generously taken her onto his team against Calvin, but Calvin was killing them. He never missed. Charles was a fair shot, but Christine was awful. She tried to be optimistic.

  “Well, it’s my first time. Let’s try it again.” The boys were agreeable and they spent some time building up their arsenal.

  “Okay, I think we’re ready.” With that the war was on in earnest. What Christine lost in throwing she made up for in ducking Calvin’s barrage. At one point he took her by surprise and hit her right on the side of the head. She let out a false bellow of rage that had both boys in stitches before winding up like a pro and letting a snowball fly. As usual, her aim was quite poor at best, but she did hit someone, causing all three snowball throwers to become deathly quiet and watch as Luke wiped the snow from his face. Knowing beyond a shadow of doubt that Christine’s throw was a mistake, Luke couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tackle her into the snow.

  Her cheeks were cherry red with the cold and her eyes were bright with suppressed laughter. Her hat was tilted a bit and had snow on one side. Luke couldn’t think when she had ever looked more beautiful.

  He spoke slowly as he approached. “So this is the way I’m treated when I don’t see you for three days!”

  “It was an accident, I’m sorry,” Christine said on a bubble of laughter.

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  “Oh, you sound very sorry!” Luke fought his own mirth

  This made Christine laugh harder, and she began to back away. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Luke smiled at this question and Christine, a little afraid of that smile, turned and ran. She had rounded the far end of the house and thought freedom was in sight when her legs went out from under her.

  Christine rolled onto her back and put both hands up to wipe the snow from her face. When she felt Luke’s hands join her own, she looked up to see him kneeling beside her.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what a rascal he was for knocking her in the snow, but he was leaning over her now, his eyes locked with hers, his lips descending.

  “Christine,” he breathed, his lips nearly touching hers.

  “We’ll save you, Christine!” The spell was broken. Calvin’s gallant cry reached them.

  Before the boys could round the corner of the house, Luke helped Christine to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and held her close under the guise of dusting the snow off her back. The boys bounced on to the scene just as he released her.

  Even as the boys danced around their legs, Luke and Christine’s eyes locked once again. “I’m sorry,” Christine said, the words for his ears alone. Luke took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Later,” she heard him say. The look in his eyes told Christine it was a promise he would keep.

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  The dishes were done and Susanne had just fed Elizabeth and put her down for a nap. Grandma Em called everyone into the front room. Christine was surprised as Silas sat down at the piano and played a few hymns. Everyone sang and then Grandma Em asked the children to share what they were thankful for.

  Emily was thankful for a new sister and that she only cried some of the time. Charles was thankful for the snow and for turkey dinner. Calvin made
Christine cry when he expressed thanks for snow and that Christine had played with them.

  Luke and Christine had no time alone together, but Christine was thrilled at the way he stayed by her side throughout the day.

  The day was a long and happy one. It was late before Luke and Silas left. If Christine hadn’t known she would see him the next morning, she would have begged him to stay.

  After Christine climbed into bed, she kept the lamp turned up and reached for her Bible. Holding it unopened, she began to pray.

  Christine thanked God for the wonderful family to whom He had brought her. She knew in her heart that God had led her right to them. Tears slid down her cheeks as she thought of her grandfather, wishing with all her heart he could have met Luke and his family. She knew they would have liked one another.

  Christine fell asleep hoping that at some time her grandfather had made that step of faith. She asked God to help her keep from dwelling on the subject and to go on from where she was, in obedience to His will and not to fret about things she couldn’t change.

  Visions of Luke and the ranch floated through her mind. Tomorrow! Tomorrow she would see him again.

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  “Ready to go?” Luke asked the women who stood before him.

  “We’ve been ready to go since-”

  “Yes, we’re ready!” Christine interrupted Grandma Em loudly and sent her a pleading look. But it was too late.

  “Up early, Christine?” Luke asked innocently.

  “What makes you think that?” Christine threw over her shoulder as she moved through the snow toward the cutter.

  The three of them on the seat was a tight fit, but it was nice for warmth. Christine was thankful that Luke had dropped the subject of when she awoke. She was not at all willing for him to know she had awakened very early and had paced until it was time to go.

  Luke had his own reasons for not rekindling the subject. He too had risen some two hours earlier than usual and had made coffee and tried to read but ended up pacing just like Christine.

  Baxter was a world of white, much to Christine’s enjoyment. The trees and housetops were powdered and glistening in the morning sun.