Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8)

by Janette Oke

  Belinda knew it was her anxiety that was making her impatient, but it was all she could do to keep from shouting at the team to hurry. When at last they did pull into the yard, Luke's

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  team was still tethered out front. Belinda was both relieved and frightened. What is keeping Luke here so long? she wondered.

  She rushed into the house without rapping on the door, and Clark and Luke both looked up when they heard her. They were seated at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

  "Belinda!" Clark jumped up from the table. "Where did you come from?"

  Belinda was unable to answer. She was being engulfed in a big bear hug.

  "I have a driver to pay and luggage to get upstairs," she said quickly as she was passed to her brother for another big hug. "Where's Ma?"

  "Up in her room--and she will be so glad to see you. I think she's sleeping right now," Luke answered.

  Clark was drawing on his coat to go take care of the driver and the luggage. Belinda started for the stairs as Luke, too, slipped into his own coat.

  Belinda tiptoed up the stairs and quietly opened her mother's door. Marty was sleeping. Her face was pale, but she did not look seriously ill as Belinda had feared she might.

  She crossed to the bed and gently laid a hand on Marty's brow; she did not feel feverish. Belinda sighed deeply in relief. Belinda bent to press a kiss on her mother's brow. Feeling much more at peace with the situation, she left the room. She was sure her mother needed to rest. They could talk later.

  "You found her?" asked Luke as he came through the kitchen with some of Belinda's suitcases.

  "She was sleeping, as you said," Belinda admitted. "I decided she might need the rest more than a chat with me."

  "She will be mighty glad fer thet chat, you can bet on thet," Clark assured Belinda, laden with suitcases on his way to Belinda's old room.

  Belinda removed her coat and hat and laid them on the

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  sitting room rocker. Then she returned to the kitchen and put some wood on the kitchen fire. It was getting close to supper- time. I hope I still know how to cook, she joked to herself.

  Clark and Luke came through the kitchen with a trunk between them. "My word, little girl," Clark said teasingly. "Ya sure came home with a passel more'n ya left with."

  Belinda nodded. She supposed she had.

  She checked the coffeepot and was glad to find some coffee remaining. She was cold from the ride. Perhaps the coffee would help to rid her of the chill. She went to the cupboard for a cup.

  Clark and Luke joined Belinda at the table. "Now, catch us up on all yer news," Clark invited.

  But Belinda had very little news she felt like sharing. Instead, she asked them for the news of home. She was especially anxious to hear about her mother's illness. Luke explained in detail, and Belinda nodded in understanding as he talked.

  "Then she seems to have improved?" she asked when he was done with his report.

  "Oh, much," he said with relief. "She was even able to take some broth today--and she kept it down, too."

  Belinda felt a surge of thankfulness. "Well, I'll be here to care for her now," she said with emotion. Clark and Luke both expressed gratitude for that blessing.

  Marty did continue to improve, but it was three weeks before she was totally herself again. With the assurance that her mother was completely well and could once again take over the care of the house, Belinda began to make her own plans.

  "I think it's time for me to move on into town," she informed her folks after their devotions one morning.

  Clark and Marty both turned to look at her.

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  "Luke wrote that Mrs. Jenkins needs nursing care. Mr. Jenkins has been having a terrible time trying to run the post office and care for her, and he hasn't been able to find any regular help."

  Marty nodded. "We've heard of the Jenkins' situation," she told Belinda. "Neighbors have helped all they could, but her sickness has gone on fer sech a long time."

  "When do you want to go?" asked Clark.

  "This morning," answered Belinda.

  "I'll get the team whenever yer ready."

  "Give me about half an hour," Belinda told him and left the table to get out the dishpan.

  "Now, you don't need to worry none 'bout these few dishes," Marty assured her, but Belinda insisted that they do the dishes together one more time.

  "Luke and Abbie will be glad to have ya back," Marty said as she placed a cup back in the cupboard.

  "I've been thinking about that," Belinda said slowly. "I don't think I'm going to go to Luke's."

  Marty looked surprised. "I'm sure they'll be expectin' ya," she told Belinda.

  "I . . . I suppose they will, although I haven't said that I would be asking them for a room. But, Mama, things are different now I'm not the young girl I was when I stayed with Luke before. I need to . . . to find my own way. I can't. . . can't make my home with Luke and Abbie forever."

  Belinda could see the concern in her mother's eyes as she looked at her.

  "Ya sound like yer course is all set," Marty said slowly, "as though yer expectin' to always be as ya are now . . . on yer own."

  "I'm fine, Mama. I'm sure the Lord will help me find my place."

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  "Ya do what ya think best," Marty answered softly. "I'm sure thet Luke an' Abbie'll understand."

  And so Belinda found herself one small room in the town boardinghouse. It was not fancy, but it was clean, and the other residents were friendly. Besides, she had Luke and Abbie nearby. She could easily slip over to their house if she was feeling lonely.

  She settled in as permanent day care for Mrs. Jenkins. The poor lady had arthritis so badly she could do nothing for herself. Belinda was determined to give her the best care possible, to ease her pain as much as she could.

  It wasn't the life Belinda had dreamed for herself. But with each passing day she became more and more accustomed to it. It really wasn't so bad, and she did have her evenings to spend as she wished. She had no way to travel to the country church she had known as a girl, so she involved herself in the town church as Sunday school teacher of a girls' class and secretary- treasurer for the ladies' mission group. It kept her more than busy, and the days passed by more quickly than she would have dared to think.

  Tenderly she nursed her little potted rose. She was anxious for spring to make an appearance so she could set it out in her mama's flower bed. She hoped it would favor her with a bloom its first year.

  Belinda did not pretend even to herself that she did not think of Boston and her friends there. She spoke of them often to her family members. But she never spoke of Drew. Her memories of him were far too painful for her to share with anyone. But each night before she retired, she would include him in her evening prayers.

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  TWENTY-FIVE

  A Happy Ending

  "I brought in your mail," Mr. Jenkins said to Belinda as he came from the front room of the building that served as the town post office. It was midday and time for his noon meal.

  Belinda thanked him and reached for the two envelopes he handed her.

  "How's Lettie today?" he asked as he crossed the room toward the bedroom door.

  "A little better, I think," responded Belinda, but he had already passed out of earshot as he went to check for himself.

  He was soon back. "She's sleeping," he said thankfully, "and she does look a bit more comfortable than she has."

  Belinda nodded and poured the soup in Mr. Jenkins's bowl. He sat down to hurry through his lunch before the jangling of the bell would summon him to care for another customer, and Belinda turned again to her mail.

  One of the letters was from Ella. Belinda smiled as she laid it aside. She would save the enjoyment of reading it until she was alone.

  The larger envelope bore the inscription of Keats, Cross and

  Newman, and Belinda quickly tore open the envelope. "Oh, bother!" she exclaimed as she read the contents. "Som
ething wrong?" asked Mr. Jenkins.

  "No, not wrong. Just a nuisance. I need to sign more

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  papers. I thought I had already signed everything they could possibly come up with . . . but it appears they've found more."

  Mr. Jenkins merely nodded. It didn't sound like much to fuss about.

  "The only problem is that they must be signed in the presence of an attorney, and that means I will have to travel--"

  But Mr. Jenkins quickly cut in, "Got one here now, ya know"

  "No, I didn't know," responded Belinda. "Since when?" "Started up 'bout a week ago. Has his office over in thet little buildin' by the hardware store."

  Belinda was relieved. "Well, that will work much better. I was worried about having to ask for some time off."

  "You can go on over tonight," Mr. Jenkins went on. "I'll watch Lettie. Or you can run over right now. . . iffen ya like."

  "No. Tonight will be fine. Then I can get these papers back in tomorrow's mail."

  Mr. Jenkins nodded and returned to his lunch. He was almost finished when the bell began to jingle.

  "Drat it!" he exclaimed and took another big bite of his slice of bread. "Almost made 'er thet time," and he hurried from the room to his little post office.

  While Mrs. Jenkins slept, Belinda washed the dishes and tidied the three small rooms. By the time the woman awoke, Belinda was ready to devote her full attention to her patient. She made her as comfortable as she could and settled herself in a chair by the bed to read to the woman. Mrs. Jenkins seemed to rest much easier if her mind was busy listening to a story.

  Mr. Jenkins remembered his promise and appeared at the door around five o'clock. "I believe thet law office closes at five-thirty," he said to Belinda. "You'd best run on if ya want to git thet cared fer tonight."

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  Belinda nodded, checked her patient once more, and pulled on her coat and galoshes.

  It's staying light longer, she told herself as she hurried toward the hardware store. That must mean spring is somewhere on the way. It was a pleasant thought.

  She found the small building just as Mr. Jenkins had described it. Above the door was a simple sign, "Law Office," and on the door itself the invitation, "Please walk in." Belinda did so.

  The room was simply furnished with a large desk, three straight-backed chairs, some shelves lined with large law tomes, and a large set of file drawers. A man bent over the drawers, probably searching for some elusive file folder.

  "Come right in," he called. "Be with you in a moment." Belinda gasped. Surely--? The man's head came up and she gasped again.

  "Drew?"

  Drew stood upright, his eyes mirroring the surprise that Belinda had felt.

  "Belinda!"

  "I'm. . . sorry," Belinda stammered. "I didn't know--" and she turned abruptly and ran back out the door. "Belinda--wait," Drew called after her, but Belinda rushed

  on.

  She was blinded by tears and stumbling along through the rutted snow when Drew caught up with her.

  "Belinda, please, wait. What is it? Is something wrong?"

  He clasped her shoulder and tried to turn her to face him, but she shook herself free and moved on. He fell into step beside her.

  "Please, Belinda. Please," he begged. "We need to talk." Belinda stopped then and lifted her face to meet his look evenly.

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  "We have already talked, Drew. Remember?"

  He flinched as if he had been struck. "I know," he said in a quiet voice. "I know. But what are you--"

  "There doesn't seem to be much else to say," Belinda cut in coldly, and shrugging off Drew's hand, she hurried toward the rooming house.

  She spent a miserable evening. She still could not believe it. Here she was back home, thinking she had left Drew in Boston reunited with his mother and brother, and here he was establishing himself, it would appear, right back in their hometown. "I can't go through it again . . . the . . . the love and rejection. I can't," sobbed Belinda aloud. She shook with the intensity of the feelings that kept sweeping through her.

  Her eyes red from weeping, Belinda did not bother going down for supper. She knew the others would look at her with curiosity and concern. She had no desire to be asked sympathetic questions.

  She tried to read, but the pages blurred. She paced the floor and fidgeted by turn. The evening dragged on; then at eight o'clock there was a knock on the door. Belinda decided not to answer it, but it came again.

  "Belinda," came a soft call. Belinda recognized Luke's voice. She knew she must answer or he'd be out looking for her. She let him in.

  "Hello," he said in his usual jovial way; then he stepped in, walked straight to her window, and stood with his back to her, looking out at the lights of the small town.

  "How is your patient?" he asked after a few silent moments. "She's . . . doing slightly better, I think," Belinda responded.

  "Good," said Luke.

  Then he continued. "I dropped by home today. Ma looks much better."

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  "Oh, that's good!" said Belinda. There was a pause.

  "The kids want to know when you're coming over," went on Luke.

  Belinda managed a smile. "Tell them I'll be over soon," she replied. "I'm looking forward to some free time on Saturday. Maybe I can make it then."

  "Fine," nodded Luke.

  "You been busy?" asked Belinda.

  But Luke didn't bother to answer her question. He turned to look at her and said instead, "We just had a visitor." "Oh," responded Belinda, her eyebrows raised. "Who?" "Drew," Luke said, watching her face carefully.

  She caught her breath in a ragged little gasp and quickly turned away from her brother.

  "Is he the reason you came home?" asked Luke.

  "Of course not," denied Belinda. "Why do you ask that? I had planned for months to come home."

  Luke nodded. "He seemed terribly upset," he continued. "Why?" asked Belinda.

  "Well, for one thing, he had the feeling that you needed an attorney for something. . . but you left his office without getting whatever you needed."

  "I . . . I was just taken completely by surprise," Belinda confessed. "I'd no idea he was back in town."

  "I didn't realize that running into old friends was such a-- a traumatic experience," commented Luke.

  Belinda flushed. "I guess I did respond . . . rather . . . hastily," she admitted.

  "I thought perhaps there was something more," Luke prompted.

  "Like. . . ?" began Belinda.

  "I've no idea. Would you like to tell me?"

  Belinda lowered her face and shook her head.

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  "But he isn't the reason you came home?" Luke asked again.

  "No-o," Belinda replied, then added honestly, "but he . . . he might be the reason I didn't stay in Boston."

  "I don't understand," said her big brother.

  Belinda lifted tear-filled eyes. "I didn't know that . . . that Drew was in Boston until last fall. It was so good to see him. I . . . I thought he felt that way, too. I . . . I even thought that he might care. Well, he maybe did . . . in a way. At least he said he did . . . but he also said that because of . . . the circumstances . . . whatever he saw them to be . . . that we . . . he wouldn't be seeing me again."

  Luke nodded.

  "So I came on home . . . as I had planned. Though I . . . I knew that I'd stay . . . if. . . if he asked me to. But he didn't, and . . . I didn't expect to ever see him again . . . and then quite unexpectedly he . . . he. . ."

  But Belinda could not go on. She turned her back again as the tears began to flow freely.

  "Did you know that Drew thought you intended to stay in Boston to administrate the home you had established?" Luke asked.

  Belinda shook her head, her back still to her brother.

  "Did you know that it was always his intention to return here to set up practice?"

  "No," she said after a long pause.

  "Did you know that he very n
early laid aside his lifelong dream of helping people in his own hometown so he might be free to stay in Boston and marry you?"

  Belinda's shoulders shook. "No."

  "Did you know that he felt that to ask you to marry him would be denying you of all the good things you had learned to appreciate?"

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  "No," sobbed Belinda.

  Luke moved across the room to place his hands on Belinda's trembling shoulders. "What in the world did you two talk about all that time, anyway?" he asked in a teasing tone.

  "Oh, Luke," sobbed Belinda, and she turned to Luke's arms and lowered her head to his shoulder.

  He held her, patting her back as she wept.

  "You know what I would suggest?" he said softly when the sobs had subsided. Belinda shook her head.

  "I would suggest that you start over. And this time really talk."

  "Oh, Luke," cried Belinda. "I think it's too late."

  "Then what's he doing here waiting right outside the door?" Luke asked with a chuckle.

  "He . . . he's here?" Belinda was shocked.

  "He's here. And he'll be knocking that door down if I don't soon let him in."

  "Oh my!" cried Belinda, her hand going first to her face and then to her hair. "I must look one awful sight."

  "I wouldn't expect him to notice," Luke replied gently, then gave her one more squeeze before he released her and opened the door for Drew.

  "Belinda?" Drew entered the room hesitantly. "May I come in?"

  Belinda silently nodded.

  "I . . . I've really messed everything up, haven't I?" he said with such a tremor in his voice that Belinda wanted to reach out to him, but she stood rooted to the spot.

  "I thought you felt your work was in Boston . . . with the elderly. . . ."

  Belinda nodded again in understanding.

  "I knew . . . I've always felt that I was to come back here," he went on.