He offered her his arm and nodded toward the door. “Why don’t we take that walk now?”
“I’d love to.” She slid her hand tentatively around his offered elbow, wondering if the contact would unnerve her. But nothing felt wrong or fearful. Just . . . comfortable.
Several minutes passed as they left the hotel and walked across the train platform. He led her down a well-worn trail that looked like it would reach the river.
Katherine prayed and tried to gather her thoughts, but the familiar scent of his cologne and the simple presence of him at her side made thinking quite difficult.
He stopped them when they were close to the river but kept her arm in his. He patted her hand. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again, Katherine.”
Heat rose up her neck and into her face. “I feel the same.” She cleared her throat. “But I must apologize again for how I left.”
“Do not think of it. It is enough that you are here now.”
Would he still feel that way after she told him everything? She shook her head to rid herself of the negative thoughts.
“Do you not believe me?”
“It’s not that, Jean-Michel. There’s just a lot I will need to share with you . . . eventually. I’m not the same girl I was five years ago.”
“Oui. I know. Just as I am not the same man.” He turned toward her and closed the space between them. His face became very serious. “But even though we are different, there’s something I must say. To ‘get it off my chest,’ as you Americans say. I can’t bear to go on without you. No matter what has happened, I still love you with all my heart.”
Katherine’s heart soared. Those words were like a healing balm. But she stepped back a few inches and looked into his eyes. Eyes that seemed a bit tortured and expectant all at the same time. “You may not feel the same after—”
“Nothing could make me stop loving you, Katherine. Nothing.” His voice was raspy, desperate sounding. “Do you still love me?”
19
Jean-Michel could tell by her expression that he’d pushed too hard. “I am sorry. Not that I’m sorry to have declared my love for you is unchanged, but I can see that I’ve caused you distress. That was never my intention.”
Katherine turned away from him and stared out across the river. “I have always . . . I . . . never stopped.” She didn’t seem able to say the words, but Jean-Michel felt certain she spoke of her love for him.
He didn’t know quite how to handle the situation. He knew she’d had a great deal of pain in her life these last few years. She wore that misery like a stone around her neck.
“You can tell me about it, Katherine. I promise you that nothing you say will ever stop me from loving you.”
She turned. “I am not the same person you loved. So you may not love the woman I am now.”
“Nor am I the same man you loved, but I believe there is enough of us left to rekindle what once was—what should have been.” He reached for her, but her response was to step farther away.
“Please don’t misunderstand me, Jean-Michel. It’s been a long time . . . and I want to tell you why I left . . . why I ran away.”
“Do you mean last month? I thought your grandmother wanted to see more of Alaska.”
“No. I mean, she did want to see it, but I was the one who made her go.”
“But why? You know I would never do anything to make you unhappy—to hurt you.”
“I’m already dealing with so much pain and hurt.” Katherine turned to face him. “My husband was a terrible man.”
Jean-Michel already knew as much. “But that has nothing to do with us.”
“It has everything to do with us, because I’m not sure there can ever be an us again.”
“But, Katherine—”
“Please stop. You don’t understand.” She held up her hands and breathed deeply. “Please listen. If you’ve ever loved me . . . I need you to simply listen.”
He nodded and forced his heart to calm. Katherine—his Katherine—needed him. “Oui. Go on.”
“I faced every day with that man telling me I was an abomination to him—that I was worthless—worse than a dog. He treated his servants better than he treated me. He wounded me, Jean-Michel. Wounded me to the core, and I don’t know if those wounds can ever truly heal.” She glanced up at him, a sheen of tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
“I’m so sorry.”
A shake of her head made a lock of hair come loose from the blue ribbon that held it back. She whisked it behind her ear and sniffed. “No one knew the truth about what I endured. No one. He needed his beautiful wife to appear happily at his side for every prestigious political dinner and engagement. I always wore long sleeves to cover . . .” Her voice cracked. “Forgive me.”
“Non. It’s not your fault.”
“That’s the thing, Jean-Michel. For years, I’ve carried it around as my fault. He told me it was my fault. It’s only by the grace of God that I’m able to begin to get past this.”
“What about your parents? Did they never suspect?”
“Father was too enthralled with his senator son-in-law. But I had gained the courage to finally tell them. At least Mother—I was going to share with her what I could. But they were killed in an accident the night I went to speak with them. Things went downhill from there. Randall enjoyed my inheritance almost as much as he enjoyed telling me . . . I was worthless.”
“Mon chérie . . . I am so sorry.”
“No. I am sorry. I’m not doing this very well. Give me some time, please.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer but hurried away, leaving him baffled and alone.
JULY 18
The sun seemed to never tire in the summer months in Alaska. Jean-Michel hadn’t slept well since coming to this great territory because of all the daylight. But it had kept the nightmares from occurring too often. He could at least be thankful for that. Of course, the lengthy days might only be a part of it. He was no longer sitting around feeling sorry for himself, and he allowed himself to let go of some of the guilt he’d once felt.
Today, the warmth of the rays bore down on him and weighed him down. Katherine loved him—of that he was certain—but something held her back. In his gut, he knew it was something more than what she’d shared. Had she been embarrassed that she told him? Had he pushed too hard?
He walked his daily route down toward the roundhouse and water tower and searched for a way to fix this new mess he found himself in. While his leg was getting stronger, he seemed to be floundering at how to rebuild his relationship with Katherine. Ever since he’d decided to come to Alaska, he’d thought about their reunion. About their love and their past together.
Why was it taking so long?
Maybe because he was impatient. A taste of hope for the future had changed his outlook on life. And he didn’t want to waste another minute like he had in past months.
Footsteps sounded behind him as he approached the new cottages. “Mr. Langelier. How are you today?”
Jean-Michel turned and waved at Thomas. The young man had been invaluable in helping him with his exercises, and they’d formed a fast friendship. “I’m doing quite well. And you?”
“Mrs. Johnson sent me with this load of snacks for the men working at the roundhouse today. Apparently, they are working on one of the steam engines.” He held out the basket for inspection. “It’s just nice to get out of the kitchen today. I miss working with John and Allan out in the fresh air on the days I’m covering for Cassidy. Of course, it’s really not as much that they need my help as they need a referee.”
Jean-Michel chuckled. “I’ve heard a bit of gossip about the chef and her new assistant.”
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said anything, Mr. Langelier. That was inappropriate of me. Maybe I’m in need of fresh air more than I thought.”
“I can imagine. Especially for a young man like yourself, sometimes it’s hard to be cooped up, non?”
Thomas nodded. “I was thinking
, Mr. Langelier.”
“Please call me Jean-Michel.”
“I don’t know if Mr. Bradley would like that, sir. But I was thinking, while I’m helping with your exercises at night, do you think you could teach me some of those French words?”
“Oui. But why do you want to learn French?”
“It sounds educated and refined. And I like to learn.”
“But of course. It would be my pleasure—”
Boom!
The explosion made Jean-Michel fall back, hitting the ground hard. Thomas landed beside him.
“What was that?” Thomas murmured and shook his head. “My ears are ringing.”
Across the tracks, the engine house and power plant were suddenly engulfed in flames.
Thomas dropped the basket he’d somehow managed to keep upright and jumped up. “Fire!” he yelled out, then raced toward the blaze.
Other men ran toward the fire, not even seeming to notice Jean-Michel.
Jean-Michel got up and looked at the growing conflagration. He should do whatever he could to help. He took a step forward, but his legs felt leaden—impossible to move. People came from all directions to lend their help. Men yelled across the fire for more water—for a ladder.
Screams of women and children began to replace the calls of the workmen. Jean-Michel’s vision blurred. The green of the terrain around him turned to brown sand.
Frantic, he tried to get past the front line of men fighting the blaze. “We’ve got to save them!” The scream tore from his throat.
Arms yanked him back. “Stay back, sir. We’ve got it under control.”
“No! You can’t allow them to burn to death! There are people in there!” He forced his way through the men and stumbled outside the burning building. Blasted leg! It gave way again. But he couldn’t let those women and children die. Not again.
Terror gripped his heart as he dragged himself along the ground.
“Sir, you have to get away from the building! It’s too dangerous.” Several men surrounded him and grabbed his arms.
“No, please, save them, can’t you hear them?” The smoke choked him. His lungs burned.
“Get that man out of here!” the railroad chief officer yelled.
As two young men dragged Jean-Michel back, he felt hot tears stream down his face. Defeated, he couldn’t understand why they were fighting him.
A voice in his ear. “Mr. Langelier, there’s no one inside the building.” That was Thomas’s voice, wasn’t it?
Jean-Michel turned to look in the young man’s face. Yes, it was Thomas. “No one?”
“Everyone is fine, sir. No one is hurt, thank God.”
“There wasn’t anyone inside the building . . . no one screaming?”
“No, sir.” Thomas helped him to his feet. “Just the men fighting the fire yelling back and forth.”
Jean-Michel wiped a hand down his face. His thinking cleared; he wasn’t in Syria. He was in Alaska. What had just happened?
The general was nowhere to be found.
And even though he’d checked for secret passageways and looked for his contact, he came up short.
What should he do? If he couldn’t find the general and pass on the message, would they lose the rest of their men? Maybe even the whole war?
The responsibility rested on his shoulders, and his alone.
No matter what, he had to find the general. The others weren’t helping.
“Uncle? What are you doing out here?” His niece’s voice broke through his thoughts.
He thought she’d been occupied in the dining room. “Oh, I’m just watching the crews clean up the mess.”
“It’s not safe to be this close. Let’s get you back inside.” She tugged at his arm.
He nodded. He’d just have to sneak out later. The general had to be here.
It appeared almost every hotel guest came outside to watch the commotion. Katherine stepped over a few burnt pieces of wood and tried to get closer to Jean-Michel. His face had haunted her as she watched him trying to get to the building. His cries for help to save people were more than gut-wrenching. They tore at her very soul. Obviously, he’d witnessed something horrific in the past few years. Maybe he was just as damaged as she.
In that moment, a new realization hit her. God had brought both of them through some horrific times. To this place. This time. Two very broken people.
When the men were finally able to pull Jean-Michel back, he’d collapsed and Thomas had spoken to him.
As she made her way to him, the smoke increased and she covered her mouth with a hankie. She just needed to make sure he was all right.
“Miss, you need to stay back.” A soot-covered face nodded at her and she stepped away.
Thomas spotted her and said something to Jean-Michel. The young man helped Jean-Michel up and they walked toward her.
Her heart crumbled a little at the look on Thomas’s face. Jean-Michel wasn’t all right. In her heart, she knew it. But there had to be something she could do. Now she understood his need to help her. That’s what people did . . . when they loved each other.
Thomas shook his head and they steered around her back to the hotel.
Well, that wasn’t acceptable. He said he loved her still and now he needed help. She wasn’t going to stand back and do nothing. Not after everything that had kept them apart. Katherine moved through the crowd with great determination. “Are you all right?” She reached out and took hold of Jean-Michel’s arm.
Jean-Michel looked over to her for a moment and then back to the path in front of him. “I’m sorry, Katherine. I should have warned you.” He coughed for several moments. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it right now.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” But his back was to her and he kept on walking. She stood at the edge of the tracks and watched the two men make their way up to the train platform.
Katherine bit back tears and frustration. Why, God, why?
A lifetime ago, she and Jean-Michel had shared a special and innocent love. Life hadn’t been kind to her since then, and it was apparent that it hadn’t been to him either.
But back in the past, she didn’t know the Lord. She was pretty certain Jean-Michel didn’t either. Things were different now. She wasn’t the only broken and beaten-down soul. It looked like her beloved was wounded as well.
She’d been so worried about his reaction to her past, she hadn’t thought about him.
A new determination swelled in her chest. Good thing she knew Who could help.
Pacing her room after the fire wasn’t helping a bit. She’d been praying, as best she knew how, but still she was unsure of the next step. Katherine sat down on her bed and thought maybe if she wrote Jean-Michel a letter . . .
No. They needed to speak in person.
Although there was a major problem—right now, he didn’t seem to be willing.
Patience was not her strong suit. When she thought of how she’d left the hotel for a month and made him wait, it made her ashamed. She’d put him through so much.
The look in his eyes as he’d cried out for help would stay with her forever. What could she do?
A knock on the door to the bathroom made her conscious of the tears that streaked her face. Wiping them away, she let her grandmother in and went straight into the gentle woman’s arms.
“I heard what happened.” Grandmother rubbed Katherine’s head. Just like when she was a child. “How about we sit down and pray for Jean-Michel and all the men fighting the blaze right now?”
“I’ve been praying, but it feels like my prayers are unanswered.”
Her grandmother gave a sympathetic smile. “It feels that way sometimes, but never fear. God hears each one and answers. In His time.”
Katherine sat on the bed, and Grandmother took the chair and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, we don’t know what has caused so much pain in Mr. Langelier’s life, but we know that You do. Please help him to heal—help him to realize that he can lay the
past to rest. Thank You, Lord, that no one was in the building when the engine exploded, and please guide all the men who are still making sure that the fire is out.”
A knock sounded at Katherine’s door. She swiped her face again and went to answer it.
As she opened the door a crack, she recognized Collette and opened the door wide. “Please come in.”
“Merci.” Collette stood with her hands twisting a handkerchief. “I am sorry to intrude, but I felt I must speak to you both.”
Katherine nodded, returned to sit on the edge of her bed, and patted a place next to her for Collette. “Have a seat.”
The beautiful blonde sat down and immediately started crying. “I don’t know what else to do other than to tell you the truth.”
Grandmother patted the girl’s knee. “Go ahead, my dear. We are quite sympathetic and willing to hear what you have to share.”
“You see, I didn’t know what my brother had been through. I had been quite . . . what is the word? Inconscient . . . oblivious to my brother’s troubles. Until we took this trip.” She sniffed and patted her face and eyes.
“Go on.” Katherine needed to know.
“He’s terrorized by nightmares. Reliving days during his time in the French army when he was in Syria.” She cried in earnest, hiccupping between sobs. “He had to watch a building be burned down with innocent people inside—women and children! One of his own soldiers set the blaze. He was shot trying to rescue them.”
“Good heavens, that poor man.” Grandmother lifted her own hankie to her nose.
“But that is not all, I’m afraid.” Collette stiffened and took a deep breath. “His two best friends came in and dragged him away from the danger . . . but they were shot and killed in the course of it.”
Katherine sucked in a lungful of air and covered her mouth. So this is what Jean-Michel lived with. “Today . . . during the fire . . . he was reliving that moment, wasn’t he?”
“Oui.” Collette stood up. “I did not have my brother’s permission to tell you all of this, and he will probably be angry with me—it has not been easy for him since our father died. I am what you Americans say . . . a handful—but I had to let you know. He is not crazy like one of the railroad workers said.”
Out of the Ashes Page 17