Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  “He canceled. Not that I blame him. Collette jumped in the river to save that little boy and Jean-Michel has been by his sister’s side ever since. But don’t you see? That’s what I have to avoid. I can’t bear the thought of talking to him just yet. My heart is all over the place. I’m so confused.”

  Grandmother walked over to her and set a hand on her quaking arm. “I understand, Katherine. I do. Just promise me that you won’t avoid him forever.”

  “I won’t. I just need enough time to gather my thoughts and to pray.” At least she hoped it was true. Seeking God’s help was all so new.

  “All right. Let me pack a small case as well and we’ll take the train north to Fairbanks. I hear there are some lovely sights to see.”

  Katherine held up her hands and watched them shake. Why did the thought of speaking with Jean-Michel unnerve her so?

  They’d had such a close friendship before. In fact, she’d never felt as comfortable around anyone else. Ever. She could always share her deepest thoughts and secrets with him.

  Now all she could do was worry. And shake. And be afraid.

  Lord, help my unbelief. Grandmother has told me it’s a sin to worry, but I don’t know how to stop. I’m afraid, God. Please show me what to do. Give me the words to say. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  A few days away would hopefully clear her mind and help her heart. If that didn’t work, she wasn’t sure if anything could.

  Grandmother came back in the room with a small suitcase and her cane. “I’m ready, if you are.”

  “It’s okay to leave everything else here?” Katherine hated being a bother.

  “Yes, my dear. In fact, I’ll speak with the front desk before we leave if that would ease your mind.”

  She nodded. Following her grandmother out the door, she thought of the way Jean-Michel had looked at her when he first noticed her across the room. Her heart had leapt and for a brief moment, joy filled her.

  But then everything else came flooding back. Everything she’d been through. Everything Randall had said. Everything she couldn’t have.

  If there was a way to move forward without all her troubles of the past, she’d gladly take it. But that was the problem.

  It would go with her, like a ball chained to her ankle, for the rest of her life.

  The thought crushed her weary heart.

  She loved Jean-Michel. But she could never marry again.

  JUNE 16

  Thomas picked up the heavy stock pot and set it on the stove for Mrs. Johnson. “Here you go, Cook.”

  “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much that helps my poor back.” The older woman smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

  They’d come a long way since his first days helping out in this polished kitchen. Their head chef had just about kicked him out for good because he was so clumsy.

  It had been Cassidy who’d encouraged him and stuck up for him. Then her dad had come to his rescue more than once. Without the Ivanoffs, Thomas wasn’t sure where he’d be today.

  The thoughts of John and Cassidy made his heart twinge. She’d been laid up for a while now after her fall down the stairs. John and Allan had a full schedule with excursions, but somehow they were taking turns being at Cassidy’s side. Thomas had been taking her place in the kitchen so they could continue to feed the crowds at the Curry, but they’d need him to return and help with tours. Thankfully, Mr. Bradley told him help was coming.

  Maybe it was time he went to visit her. She was his friend after all and he’d love to do whatever he could to cheer her.

  “Thomas, would you take this tray up to Mr. and Mrs. Brennan, please?”

  He smiled. Perfect timing. “I’d love to, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “No dillydallying.” She pointed a finger in his face and softened. “But I guess it would be fine to spend a few minutes with them and let us all know how she is doing. Let me just add a sandwich or two for you.”

  He nodded and waited for her to load the tray and then grabbed it. Taking the stairs two at a time, Thomas was excited to see his friends. Even if it was only for a few minutes. They’d poured so much into him that he hoped and prayed he could do something for them in return.

  With a knock on the door, Thomas plastered on a big smile and lifted the tray to his shoulder.

  “Thomas, how good to see you.” Allan welcomed him into their quarters. “Maybe you can help convince my wife that she is wrong.”

  Thomas laughed and set the tray down. “I highly doubt that would work, sir.”

  Cassidy lifted a hand in a wave. “Come on over here and catch us up on all the comings and goings. Maybe we can distract Mr. Brennan from his current topic.”

  In all his years, he’d never seen a couple more in love and more fun to watch when they argued. “I’d actually like to hear all about the current topic.” He crossed his arms. “Sounds entertaining.”

  Cassidy rolled her eyes.

  Allan took a deep breath. “You see, my beautiful wife here is trying to convince me that it’s all right for me to go back to work and leave her—”

  “It’s not just my opinion, Mr. Brennan, and you know it. The good doctor said I was fine. I just am confined to bed rest until the baby comes.” She huffed.

  Thomas chuckled at the two. “So let me get this straight. You’re worried about Cassidy, so you don’t want to leave her, but the doctor has said she is fine and you can go back to work?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly.”

  The married couple exchanged glances.

  Cassidy then looked at Thomas. “He’s driving me crazy, to tell you the truth. I love the man, but he sure does need something to occupy him. And he hovers. It’s bad enough that I have to be bedridden, but I can’t even think too hard or he’ll scold me.”

  “Wait just a minute—that’s not true.” Allan tapped the end of their bed and then his brow scrunched up. “I’m not that bad . . . am I?”

  “Yes, you are.” She lifted her chin. “But I love you anyway.”

  Thomas laughed again at them. “You guys need to do a show for all the staff. It’s quite entertaining.”

  Cassidy picked up a pillow and threw it at him. “You’re not helping.” But her smile told him she wasn’t angry. Maybe a little stir-crazy, but not angry.

  Allan sat on the bed next to his wife. “You’re determined that you’ll be all right without me?” At her nod, he looked at the tray Thomas had brought in. “Okay, then. I surrender. As long as we have someone to check on you every hour, I guess I’ll agree to it.” He picked up a sandwich. “As long as you promise me you won’t get out of this bed for any reason. None at all!”

  She put her hand over her heart. “I promise. And Thomas is here to witness it.”

  Thomas nodded. “I sure am, Mr. Brennan. Now can we please eat?”

  15

  JUNE 20

  Six-year-old Davey held a flower up to Collette, and she crouched down to hug the little charmer. “Why, thank you, monsieur.”

  “You sure do talk pretty, Miss Langelier. What does moan-sure mean?”

  “You may call me Collette, and monsieur”—she pronounced the word slower than normal—“means sir.”

  “That’s a right fancy way to pronounce sir. Why do you say that?”

  Collette tilted her head and thought about it for a moment. “Because it’s the French word and I am French. I guess I don’t think about certain words that are so . . . hmmm . . . what’s the phrase? Everyday normal.”

  “I think I understand ya. I use the word ain’t a lot for my everyday normal talking, but Mama hates it. My schoolteacher hates it more than Mama!”

  The little guy had worked his way into Collette’s heart. She loved their daily conversations by the river. His mother only allowed him to go each day because his father said it would be good for him to not fear the river. Their one requirement was that Collette accompany him if they were unavailable. They had been so very grateful for her actions—even offering her money as a
means of paying her back.

  Collette had refused, of course. Surely anyone would have done the same, but Jean-Michel told her that wasn’t necessarily true. Many people, he had said, would have put their own safety first. He praised Collette for the selfless act.

  They walked closer to the river, causing Davey to scoot as close to her as possible. “You know what, Miss Collette?” Davey’s little face turned serious.

  “What?” Collette had gotten used to his questions each day. And they always started with “you know what?” It took her a while to catch on, but it became their special conversation. At least to Collette it seemed that way.

  “I thought you was an angel that day.”

  “What day? The day you fell?” Up until now, Davey hadn’t been willing to talk about his close call. His mother told Collette that he hadn’t even shared with them why he had fallen.

  “Yep. You had on that pretty white dress with the blue birds on it. So when I saw ya, I thought Jesus had sent an angel to rescue me.”

  “Why would you think Jesus sent an angel?”

  “’Cause God protects His children. Mama told me so. She said that sometimes Jesus has to send angels to help us get out of the messes we get ourselves into.” He nodded and raised his eyebrows.

  “But, Davey, you didn’t get yourself into that mess, those older boys . . . they are the ones who are at fault for you falling into the river.” It still bothered her that those bullies had picked on little Davey. It was little comfort to hear they’d received punishment from their parents. The next time they did something so heartless, there might not be anyone around to save the innocent.

  “That doesn’t matter, Miss Collette. Don’t you believe that Jesus sent you at just the right moment? If you hadn’t been there, I woulda drowned and been swept a long ways down the river.” His face was so intense, Collette studied him for a moment.

  “I don’t know what to say to that, Davey. But if you believe Jesus sent me, then I must agree with you.” She had no idea what had brought her to the river at the very time those children would need her. Could Davey be right? Did Jesus or God or someone up there send her? Davey was such a slight boy for his age. He wouldn’t have had a chance had she not been willing to jump right in after him.

  Father’s letter came back to her mind. She’d read it so many times lately. Needing a connection to the man she’d so completely adored and wondering what impact his instructions would have on her life. If she could follow through with them.

  “You do believe in God, don’t ya?” Davey’s face looked shocked that maybe she didn’t.

  She couldn’t let the little guy down. “But, of course, I believe in God. I just need to learn a lot more about Him.” Which was all true. But where did she start? The same question had been plaguing her for weeks.

  “Well, I can teach ya everything I know.”

  The thought made her want to chuckle, but she kept her laughter in check. “I would be very honored if you would help me, Davey.”

  “We ain’t . . . aren’t going to be here much longer, so we better start tomorrow. Right here by the river. But right now, I gotta go back in. Mama will be upset if I miss nap time.” He jumped up and ran off, waving as he went.

  Collette waved back and shook her head in wonder. Maybe it was time to learn more about God so she wouldn’t look unintelligent to a six-year-old.

  Heading back to the hotel, she knew just who she wanted to speak to. Someone who had lots of extra time on her hands right now.

  Cassidy.

  Margaret Johnson looked over the menu for the third time. Her mind wasn’t on it. She was more than a little worried about Cassidy, despite the doctor’s assurance that everything was going along just fine.

  “Do you have those menus ready for me?” Mr. Bradley swept into the downstairs dining room.

  “I’m working on it, as you can see.” She motioned to the table. She thought for a moment to take out her frustrations on the man, then thought better of it. The truth was always better at times like these. “I suppose my thoughts have been elsewhere.”

  He sat down at the table. His expression was sympathetic. “I know you’re worried about our Cassidy, but she is doing quite well according to her husband.”

  “I know. I just know how fragile life can be. A person can be right beside you one minute and gone the next. I’ve seen it happen.”

  He nodded. “As have I.”

  “I didn’t realize.”

  He shrugged. It was late and the man looked exhausted. “You weren’t the only one to lose family to the epidemic.”

  “Of course, I know that.” She shook her head. “I doubt there is anyone here who didn’t lose someone. Still, when it’s someone else, you can sympathize and move on. It isn’t the same as when it happens to you.” She leaned back in her chair. “Who did you lose, Mr. Bradley?”

  “My wife and infant son.”

  “That must have been devastating.” She’d heard the pain in his voice.

  “It was. They were fine when I left for work that morning, but dead before I returned home.”

  “It was that way with my brother and most of his family. My husband and children were several days with it. In fact, I thought they’d turned a corner and were getting better.” The memory was still so painful. She had been sure they’d beaten death.

  Mr. Bradley nodded. “I think about them both from time to time. My son would have been eight years old had he lived.”

  “Mine would have been twenty. My daughter twenty-three. Sometimes I think about them and wonder what they would have been like. Would they be married? Have families of their own?”

  He nodded. “But it’s never good to stay too long in the past.”

  Margaret squared her shoulders. “No, it isn’t. Especially when we have a baby on the way.” She smiled. “I believe our Cassidy will make a fine mother.”

  “As do I.” Mr. Bradley stood. “But that does bring me to a point I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I promised you help, and in keeping with that I’ve hired another cook’s assistant to come and help you.”

  “I don’t need any help, and if I did, I would think I’d have the right to hire my own person. I can’t have just anybody in my kitchen trying to do things their own way, Mr. Bradley.” She grew more irritated with the idea by the minute. “And just what sort of person did you hire without talking to me first? I suppose it will be some flighty, senseless girl who has never lived away from the big city. I can just see her sitting here crying and pining for her home.”

  “Mrs. Johnson . . .” The manager sighed.

  She got to her feet and took up her menus. “Honestly, I don’t know why I stay on. No one seems to care at all what I want.” She looked at Mr. Bradley as if to dare him to say otherwise.

  He smiled. “Mrs. Johnson, I do sympathize, but we have over a thousand people moving through this hotel in the next month alone. Cassidy is not going to be able to return to work, and I had the offer of this cook to come to us on loan. I would have spoken to you earlier about it, but there simply wasn’t time. I had to return my answer quickly.”

  “Just on loan?” She calmed a bit. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

  “Yes.”

  She thought about it a moment. They were scheduled to have a larger number of visitors than ever before. Just getting through the year before with Cassidy at her side had been difficult.

  “All right. What’s her name?”

  Mr. Bradley couldn’t contain a grin. “It’s not a her. It’s a him. Daniel Ferguson.”

  “A man? You want me to put a man in my kitchen? And not just a man, but a Scot? Mr. Bradley you must be out of your mind. I won’t be having it.”

  “But I’m afraid you must, Mrs. Johnson. Try to remember it’s for the sake of the hotel.” He headed to the door. “Please try to have those menus to me before you head off to bed.”

  She’d had all she could t
ake. Without warning she snatched up the menus and crossed the room. With a shove she thrust them at Mr. Bradley’s chest. “Here. Maybe you can get your Scotsman to figure them out. No doubt he’ll be serving us haggis and scones for every meal.”

  She stomped out of the dining room and made her way upstairs.

  A Scotsman.

  In her kitchen!

  It was unimaginable.

  “I apologize, sir.” The manager, Mr. Bradley, handed Jean-Michel an envelope. “This must have fallen behind the mail slot. We found it this morning.”

  Jean-Michel took the envelope. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Bradley. Thank you very much.” He nodded and began his trek up the stairs to his room. The handwriting was unmistakable.

  Katherine.

  Opening his room door, he looked around him. He hadn’t seen her for ten days. And it felt like a lifetime of being parched. He hadn’t expected the feelings that overwhelmed him as soon as their eyes met. Had it really been five years since her father had forbidden them to marry? Since he’d taken the family and fled the embassy for America? Both Jean-Michel and Katherine lived through a lifetime of agony after that.

  He laid his cane on the bed and sat down in the chair to read the letter. All he knew was that they had left the Curry and would be returning to the hotel to spend the summer because that’s all the staff knew.

  Dear Jean-Michel,

  I hope Collette is back to her normal self and recovered and that you are able to enjoy all that the Curry Hotel has to offer. Grandmother and I have been praying for you both.

  I apologize for not delivering this in person, but that is part of my difficulty.

  It was wonderful to see you again after all these years, but it was also quite a shock.

  That is why we left. I needed to think through many things and God is helping me heal. Grandmother has had me traipsing all over the country, and now wants to explore a bit more of Alaska, so I am catering to her wishes and letting God work in my heart and life.

  I pray you are well. When I return, I hope we can take that walk.

  Sincerely,

  Katherine

  Her signature hadn’t changed and he loved seeing it. But the contents of the letter were not what he’d expected. Why did she have to leave? Especially after they’d just reconnected. What was Maria Harrison thinking? The older lady had orchestrated the whole trip, for pity’s sake!