“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”
10
JUNE 1
Cassidy walked out to the gardens at a brisk pace. She couldn’t believe the crazy emotions this pregnancy had given her. One moment she was elated, the next she was crying. Then the next—if she wasn’t careful—she was ready to unleash her anger on the poor unsuspecting souls who might cross her. Lord, give me wisdom to feel it coming on, and when it does—glue my lips shut. Please.
She’d done all right after that first episode, which took her by surprise. And goodness, if Allan didn’t get tickled at her every time she got riled up. He probably did it on purpose now just to see it. Well, she would have to work harder to keep her emotions in check.
If that were even possible.
The doctor spoke to her about female chemicals that changed during an expecting cycle. Well, whatever those chemicals were, they needed some guidance and a little toning down. She was certain that yes, God must have a reason, but it didn’t seem fair that she could no longer be her normal self. In fact, she had to start carrying tissues in her apron pocket for those times when the tears began to flow.
As she rounded the corner to the greenhouse, Cassidy spotted a lovely blond woman. Standing there, her shoulders were slightly hunched and shaking. She appeared to be crying.
Cassidy approached. Her heart always ached for anyone lost, alone, or suffering. “Can I help you?”
The woman turned, her green eyes shimmering with tears.
“Oh, my dear.” Cassidy pulled out a tissue and started crying herself. “What can I do? Are you hurt?”
“Non. Non.” The accent was gorgeous. As was the woman before her. “I am crying for someone else.” The words were perfect English but rounded with the sounds of French. Cassidy recognized it immediately.
“I’m a good listener if you need me.”
The woman nodded but looked away.
Cassidy dried her own tears and pulled in a deep breath. She had to stop falling apart every fifteen minutes; otherwise, she’d never make it through this pregnancy without dehydrating.
Thinking the woman wanted to be left alone, Cassidy patted her shoulder and turned to go.
“Have you ever loved someone and not really understood their pain?”
The words caught Cassidy off guard, halting her steps. “Yes, I have.”
“Non. I don’t think you have. Not like this. You are good and sweet. I’ve seen how you take care of everyone around here.” She sat down on a tree stump.
Cassidy shook her head. “You may think I’m good and sweet, but you haven’t seen me lose my temper.” She made a face and the young woman gave a hint of a smile. Cassidy wasn’t sure how old she might be, but she seemed hardly more than a girl . . . so very young and vulnerable in her sorrow. Her clothing depicted great wealth, and all the staff knew they had guests from France that were staying all summer. This must be the sister. Hadn’t Allan said something about her brother being wounded in war?
The beautiful blonde looked across the river. “It’s so magnificent here.”
“Yes, it is.”
“My name is Collette Langelier.” The name was as beautiful as the young woman.
Cassidy held out her hand. “Cassidy Brennan. Call me Cassidy.”
“You see, Cassidy”—the woman formed the name slowly as she was trying it out—“I am a selfish person. Everything has always come easy. There’s always been money. I’ve always been happy, but for a few times. My mother died when I was young and that was so very hard. I miss her more than I can say, but Father always did what he could to keep me happy. Until he too died just this last spring.”
“I’m so sorry.” Cassidy wondered if it would help any to share that she too had lost her mother.
“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking only of myself and my desires. So much so that I gave little thought to the pain of someone I dearly love.”
“I’m so sorry. Are they hurt? Do they need a doctor?”
“Non. Non. It’s not like that. It is inside.” She put a hand to her chest. “The trouble is, I’ve known for quite some time that this person was hurting inside. But I didn’t understand it. It didn’t fit into my brightly colored world.”
Like gumdrops and rainbows, as Mrs. Johnson would say. Cassidy felt an instant connection to the young woman.
Collette continued. “But I witnessed some of the suffering the other night. Tormenting dreams that drive him to sweat and thrash and cry out in his sleep.”
Tears sprang to Cassidy’s eyes again. “You’re speaking of your brother?”
“Oui.” She nodded. “I know I shouldn’t be sharing all of this with a stranger, but I had just prayed for help and you came. Father said he wanted me to seek God, and so I thought I’d pray. I really don’t know how to do it very well, but I had heard the pastor pray over my father’s grave. He just talked to God and so I did the same. And you appeared.” She waved her hankie at Cassidy.
Cassidy didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell Collette that praying was just that easy, but she sensed the woman had much more to say and remained silent.
“You see, our home in France is so large that our rooms are several hallways apart. I never knew . . . about the nightmares.” She choked on a small sob. “I knew there must have been death, of course. It was war. I had heard him tell Father of two friends he’d lost, but little else. I didn’t know so many had died, and Jean-Michel blamed himself for their deaths. I haven’t ever felt that much sorrow or pain.” Collette turned those fierce green eyes on Cassidy. “Not until I went through a night at his side as he was troubled by the dreams.”
“And now you want to help him heal.”
Collette nodded again and bit down on her bottom lip. “But it’s more than that. I need to help my brother heal from his broken and wounded heart, while I need to learn how to open up my own. Like I said, I’m selfish . . . and more than a bit spoiled.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “I traveled all this way with Jean-Michel and never knew about his nightmares. I have always been a sound sleeper, but surely if I cared more about him . . . his pain, then I would have known about them.”
Cassidy thought of various reasons why this young woman might never have witnessed her brother’s misery, but she stayed on the topic of Collette’s concern. “Well, there’s a fairly easy way to get over being spoiled and selfish.”
“How?” Collette looked at her with a glimmer of hope.
“Think of others first. And not just of frivolous things, but of real needs. Such as children without homes or parents, people without food or shelter, hospitals full of sick people. Think of them, rather than shoes and clothes, money and boys.”
Collette seemed to consider that a moment. Cassidy knew thinking of others was simple enough, but acting on it might be a little harder. Especially for one who’d never known need.
“Most important, look to God for help. Ask Him to help you change—to think more on things that aren’t about . . . you. Ask Him how you can help others.”
“And it is this that makes you so happy?” Collette asked.
Cassidy shrugged. “I think God has given me a glad heart. Sometimes things are difficult—even painful—and I’m certainly not happy then. But I am content in the knowledge that He will always see me through.”
“But how do I find happiness? How can I be like you—so helpful and good to others?”
Cassidy laughed. “First of all, don’t try to be like me. Just be the best you, you can be. I don’t go looking for happiness. I live life. All the ups and downs, ins and outs. Appreciating each moment. Finding joy in all the little things.”
“But wouldn’t that be selfish of me?”
Cassidy shook her head. “There’s nothing selfish about appreciating the good things in life that God has given you. It’s when having those things means more to you than helping someone who is in need. Being selfish is when you don’t care
about the needs of others and think only of how something might benefit you. Finding joy in the things God has blessed us with isn’t selfish at all.”
Collette gave an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know where to begin. There is so much need—my brother is suffering in so much pain. It’s like the big mountain you call Denali. I would never know how to climb over it.”
Cassidy smiled. “One step at a time, my father would say. One step at a time.”
JUNE 5
The train whistled as it began to slow. Katherine let out a sigh. Finally, they’d made it to their destination—the Curry Hotel. Grandmother’s strength had begun to visibly fade the last couple weeks and Katherine wasn’t surprised. In all her years, she’d never understand how her grandmother had held up the past two months with all the rigors of travel at her age. Katherine felt like she could collapse at any moment from the exhaustion of it all.
As the railroad cars lurched to a stop, she stood and stretched. “Well, Grandmother, it appears we’ve finally made it to Curry.”
Her grandmother sighed. “It will be nice to spend the summer in Alaska, don’t you think, my dear?”
For the first time in a long time, Katherine could agree. “Yes, ma’am.” While she couldn’t change her past, she at least felt some hope for the future. She didn’t have to face it alone—and she had her stubborn grandmother to thank for that. “I’m glad you forced me to come.”
“Forced you?” Grandmother shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. I never forced you, child.”
“How about coerced?” Katherine tried to hide her smile.
“Definitely not.” Grandmother straightened her hat.
“Firmly-encouraged-while-making-me-feel-guilty-that-if-I-didn’t-go-it-would-break-your-heart?”
Laughter escaped the older woman’s lips. “You do beat all, Katherine.” She gathered her handbag and book. “I like to think of it as gently steering you in the correct direction.”
It felt good to laugh along with her grandmother. Life had not been kind to Katherine for many years, but she knew now that this life wasn’t the end. This world wasn’t her home. And she would rejoice in that fact. If there was a way to bring joy to others in the days, weeks, and months ahead—she would do it.
Exiting the train, Katherine relished the crisp air and the firmness of the platform. Between all the trains with their rocking, the ships with their rolling, and all the uneven surfaces her feet had landed on, she greatly appreciated a sturdy foundation to stand on.
Grandmother sighed from behind her. “Nice to be on solid ground, isn’t it?”
“My thoughts exactly, Grandmother.” She took a few steps forward.
The hustle and bustle that surrounded them with passengers scurrying around—most of them men—made Katherine want to shrink and hide. Quiet. She longed for quiet. That’s the only way she’d felt truly comfortable the past few weeks. In the quiet, studying the Word and discussing things with her beloved grandparent.
A hand on her arm made her jerk. “Might I help you, m’lady?” The brogue in the man’s accent sounded a bit like he was Irish. “I be staying here at the hotel as well.”
She blinked several times and stared at the man in shock. Horrible memories rolled in. It all started with a grip on her arm . . . she shook her head and attempted to move out of his grasp.
His hand remained firmly on her elbow as he smiled down at her. “You look a bit lost, and I know my way around. Maybe we could have dinner together . . . get to know one another?”
This time she yanked her arm away and stepped back. The moment had stunned her, but in that instant, she realized she would never allow a man to touch her without her permission. Never. “I’m not a bit lost, sir, and I’ll ask you to keep your distance.”
His smile diminished slightly. “Is that a ‘no’ to dinner?”
“You are most correct, young man.” Grandmother’s cane sliced into the air between them. “Now if you will excuse us, we have a schedule to keep.”
The man backed off—not that he had a choice with the cane poised in midair—and Katherine took her grandmother’s arm and headed toward the entrance of the hotel.
“Thank you, Grandmother.” Tears blurred her vision, and her voice choked.
“Dear, I’m so sorry. I stopped for a moment to place my book in my handbag and had no idea you were that far ahead of me.”
Katherine swallowed her discomfort. She needed to get through the next few minutes and get alone so she could deal with these emotions. But not in front of all these people. “It’s not your fault. I stopped, and I guess it gave him the opportunity to step in.” She had no idea if the man had anything untoward in mind, but her arm still burned from where he’d gripped her elbow. So many times that same action had been Randall’s means of controlling her in public. “Please let’s just check in. I need a few moments alone.”
“Of course.” Grandmother took over and strode purposefully to the front desk.
Katherine followed like a small child. In all their travels the past weeks, she’d never had to interact with men. Oh, they’d been around, but everyone must have seen the two women traveling together and left them alone. Even on the tours and during dinners on the ship, people had somehow known that their company wouldn’t be welcomed. Katherine swallowed the lump in her throat. She avoided men at all costs since Randall’s death. Not that she’d been around people very much, but men in particular terrified her. In her own elite society, Katherine had never had to worry about being accosted as she’d just been. There was an entire mountain of rules and etiquette to observe, and people knew that to do otherwise would bring severe ostracizing. But here in the wilds of America the same rules didn’t apply.
Katherine found herself totally unprepared for all the thoughts and emotions flowing through her.
Would she never be able to function around men again?
11
JUNE 6—BARCELONA, SPAIN
It became increasingly dangerous every time he made his way to the telegraph office. Each time, he took a different route at a different time of day.
He couldn’t be compromised. He must get the message to the general.
The officer behind the counter today looked over the glasses on the end of his nose. “Perfect timing, sir. A telegram just came in for you.”
Glancing around and seeing that no one else occupied the office, he snatched the telegram offered to him. He gave a brief nod and left a coin on the counter.
He turned and tucked the envelope into his pocket. It was paramount that he wasn’t watched when he opened it.
Finding an unoccupied hallway to his right, he tore into the message. Not the news he expected, but he would have to make it work. So the general had gone to Alaska. The situation must be grave indeed. But since his message had to get to the general as soon as possible, then he would just go to Alaska as well. It would take quite a bit of convincing to the others, but he could do it.
“Sir?” The officer from the telegraph counter waved him over. “If anything else comes in for you, how do you want me to reach you?”
“Don’t worry about reaching me.” He pasted on a smile because that was what civilized people did. “Hold it for me here and I will come in if necessary.”
The officer nodded but looked at him oddly.
Walking out of the telegraph office, he checked his surroundings and then looked back at the building. He couldn’t risk the mission. And that officer was too curious. Maybe the man had kept copies of the messages?
The risk was too great.
He’d have to burn the building down.
JUNE 8—THE CURRY HOTEL
The gentle ticktock of the clock on the dresser was soothing in its constant rhythm.
Katherine stared out the second-story window of the hotel, watching the river rush and flow past. She’d hidden long enough. They’d been at the Curry almost three days and she still hadn’t left her room—not after the debacle on the train platform.
&n
bsp; Why did one man—one touch on her arm—send her into such a tailspin? This whole faith thing was very new to her, but couldn’t she be stronger than this?
When the darkness threatened to close in that first night after it happened, Katherine spent the night on her knees in prayer. Grandmother had joined her in the middle of the night. She knew that she was a new creation—that she was safe. But this was harder than she ever thought possible. Letting go of all her fear—all the past—and all the memories that haunted her was proving difficult. Especially when she couldn’t even deal with one episode.
A knock at the door told her Grandmother was here for another visit.
“Come in.”
The lines in the older woman’s face as she entered showed her weariness. “Katherine, we have to talk, dear.”
She turned back to the window. It was definitely time, but she felt so frail.
“I’m worried about you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s been three days and you’ve hardly eaten. I know you’re not sleeping well. I can see the dark circles under your eyes.” Grandmother sighed. “Please tell me, what can I do?”
Katherine stood, her heart aching. She walked over to her grandmother and wrapped her arms around her. “You’ve been my rock. You have. Thank you for that. I was just thinking to myself that it was time to join the land of the living again, but it’s easier to hide. That was how the old Katherine dealt with things. The new Katherine doesn’t know what to do quite yet.”
Grandmother hugged her back and then pulled away. She walked over to the chair in the corner. “I don’t want to be your rock, Katherine. That’s God’s job. And I know it’s easier to hide, but you grow more when you take the hard path.”
Clasping her hands, Katherine nodded. “You know what? When that man first held my arm, it made me freeze. I felt powerless. But then I yanked away and realized that God has made me strong. Physically, I knew I could get away.” She sucked in a breath. “But the damage from the past is what immobilizes me. It’s emotionally that I don’t feel as strong. Those terrible memories will pop up, and I once again feel weak and helpless—in every way.”
Out of the Ashes Page 10