Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  All this time he’d relied on himself. Thought that Collette needed saving. That Katherine needed saving. When in fact, it was he who needed saving.

  Papa would be proud. His son had finally sought God.

  Did he know? If he did, Jean-Michel was sure his earthly father would be rejoicing.

  He finished dressing and picked up his cane. He needed a long walk—away from everything and everyone. Exercise to strengthen his leg and clear his head.

  Collette still slept in the other room, and he didn’t expect her to wake for hours, since he’d kept her up so late last night with his issues. He’d just leave her a note and meet her for lunch. Hopefully Katherine too—if she’d ever speak to him again after yesterday. But he couldn’t wait to tell her. He wanted to talk about it all with the love of his life.

  Lord, please help her to forgive me and know that I’m not like her dead husband. I want to cherish her and love her.

  The ridge across the tracks from the hotel was Deadhorse Hill. He’d seen John trek up it several times already this summer, and Jean-Michel thought he had enough to work through that the hike would be good for him.

  A fresh breeze blew down from the mountains and through the trees. By the time it reached Jean-Michel, the sun had warmed it just enough to make it pleasant. He’d once heard John Ivanoff say the mountain—Denali—made its own weather. It was so massive and so tall it created forces that played out in storms of wind and rain . . . even snow in summer months wasn’t impossible.

  As he moved slowly up the hill, he pulled Father’s letter out of his pocket. The well-worn sheets of paper felt comforting in his hands, and he reread each line.

  Putting the letter back in his pocket, Jean-Michel chewed on the words left by the man he respected most in the world. Now it all made sense—why his father would plead with him and Collette to seek God. There had been a difference in Father the last few months of his life. He’d seemed serene and at peace. Happier even, and he hadn’t been happy since losing his wife, their beloved mother. God must have been the source of that peace.

  “Hello, up there!”

  He turned around. John Ivanoff hiked up the hill toward him.

  “Bonjour, John. It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?” John smiled and shifted the rifle from his shoulder. “I noticed you walking up here and thought I’d join you for a little bit. It’s not good to come alone or unarmed.” He wasn’t at all reprimanding, just pointing out a fact. “What brings you out so early this morning?”

  John couldn’t have known what door his question would open. Jean-Michel decided to be honest and stop mincing words around this man. “I couldn’t sleep. Had a severe night terror last night—reliving a memory from war—and knocked Thomas across the room.” There . . . he’d said it. More like blurted it out.

  The older man’s eyebrows rose. “Want to talk about it?”

  Nodding, Jean-Michel kept climbing. “The nightmares have been much worse now since the fire.” He pointed to his leg. “You see, when I was in battle—when I was injured—there was a fire. It killed a lot of people. I can’t ever seem to forget their faces.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “But last night, Thomas stayed with me. He shared his faith, and for the first time, it all made sense.”

  John stepped with his hands behind his back. “That is wonderful news!”

  “The truth is, I came to Alaska—to America, in all actuality—to be able to save someone else from the fear and horrible life she’d endured.”

  “You came to save Katherine?” The man’s question wasn’t pushy or arrogant. Just simple. To the point.

  “Yes. Her grandmother asked me.” He pulled letters out of his pocket. “It might have been her letter that prodded me to leave France and pursue life again, but I know now that it wasn’t for me to save Katherine. It was so the Lord could save me.”

  John nodded and kept climbing up the hill. Slow and steady.

  Jean-Michel could do nothing but follow and shove the letters back in his pocket. What was the man thinking?

  “So the only reason you came to Alaska was to ‘save’ Katherine?”

  “Yes. But Thomas helped me to see last night that I can’t be anyone’s savior.”

  “He’s right. And from what you’re telling me, I understand you’ve come to know the true Savior?” John stopped and turned toward him.

  “Oui. And I’ve never felt peace like this before.”

  “But I can see there is something still troubling you.” John placed a hand on his shoulder. “Faith isn’t always easy. You’re not going to have all the answers at once, so if you need to talk to someone, I’ll be here for you.”

  The words touched a place deep in his heart. The man before him reminded him so much of his own father. “Do you mind if we sit for a while, then?”

  “Not at all.” John walked a few steps up the hill until he reached some logs. Obviously left for seating.

  This man could be trusted, Jean-Michel knew that, and now he wanted to learn as much as he could. “The thing I’m struggling with now—is the loss of my friends. The ones who saved me—they sacrificed themselves for me, and I don’t understand why God would allow that. They loved Him and I didn’t.”

  “Son, the Bible tells us in John chapter fifteen, verse thirteen, that ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’”

  “You’re saying they loved me enough to do it. They knew . . .”

  “Yes. I believe they did.”

  John’s words made Jean-Michel’s head swim. Closing his eyes, a memory washed over him.

  “Stay with us, friend. Just a little farther.” George’s voice.

  His own voice mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

  “They’ve spotted us, George. Look out!” Luc pulled faster.

  “I’m all right if it’s my time to die, my friend. But we know that Jean-Michel is not. Do you hear me, Jean-Michel? I’m talking about you. Stay awake. You’ve been holding God at arm’s length for too long. And if today is the day you’re going to meet your Maker, you need to be ready.” It was George again. Pleading with him.

  Jean-Michel could feel their arms dragging him. Heard Luc say a prayer for him. The two quoted a verse to him about God sending His Son because He loved the world so that everyone could have everlasting life.

  Thwump! Thwump!

  He swayed and jerked after the shots. And then he fell. Everything went black.

  “Son, you okay?” John stood over him with a hand on Jean-Michel’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  He blinked. He wasn’t in Syria. He was in Alaska.

  All this time, he hadn’t remembered that part of the worst day of his life. Not until now. “You were right. They knew they would probably be killed coming to save me, but they did it anyway.”

  John sat back down and leaned his elbows on his knees. “That’s what true friendship is—what true love is. Laying down one’s own life for another.”

  “They told me I wasn’t ready to die.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “But I am now.” And he meant it. God had done a mighty work in him.

  A knock on the door made Cassidy grin. Even if the delivery boy was just coming with the newspaper, it was a welcome distraction. “Come in.”

  Katherine Demarchis walked in with a half smile. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Not a bit. I was just hoping for something to take my mind off this bed rest.”

  Her new friend closed the door. “Well, then, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  Cassidy pointed to the desk in the corner. “Feel free to bring that chair over here. I forgot to ask Allan to bring it over this morning before he left.” She clasped her hands in her ever-shrinking lap. “How are you doing?”

  “Well. And you?”

  The only way to get past the mundane chitchat was to dive right into honesty. “I feel li
ke I’m about to explode, but the doctor assures me that won’t happen. Although he does say I’m quite large for my first child, so maybe we were off on the time frame and I’ll have this baby sooner.” She shrugged. “That would delight me to no end, but no matter what, I’m happy.”

  Katherine fidgeted in the chair and looked out the window.

  “Is something bothering you?”

  Her honey-colored hair shone in the sunlight—like a halo as she shook her head. Then a single tear slipped down her cheek.

  Cassidy’s heart clenched. While they’d only talked a little, she knew that this woman had been through some very difficult circumstances. “Please. Let me help.”

  She sniffed and focused her brown eyes back on Cassidy. “Grandmother says it’s best to be honest, and that the only way I’ll learn how to have a deep relationship is to open up, but I find it very difficult.” She took a deep breath. “You see, Randall—my deceased husband—was a cruel man. And not just with his words. I couldn’t let anyone know the truth. I was too embarrassed and he threatened me, so I kept everything to myself.”

  “That’s understandable, but I hope you know you can trust me. And if you don’t yet, I’ll pray that we can build our relationship so you feel comfortable.”

  “Thank you.” Katherine sniffed. “I do trust you, though. It’s just hard to let things out.” She lowered her head and said nothing for what seemed minutes. Cassidy whispered a prayer for God to give the woman strength to say what she’d come to say.

  “I’ve come so far. I have. I’m not afraid like I was. Grandmother has helped me to see that God loves me and will heal me of all those terrible things I went through.

  “But this is something else. You see, I always wanted children. In fact, I convinced myself I could put up with almost anything my husband did if I could just have a child. Then one day I learned I was expecting. I was so excited. I thought it would change Randall—that he would be kinder, gentler. And at first it seemed he might, but it was not to be.

  “After one particularly bad ‘scolding’—as Randall put it—I was in bad shape. He had . . . beaten me . . . kicked me as I lay on the floor. I began to bleed and a doctor was called. He told the doctor I had fallen down the stairs. I passed out from the pain.” She raised her head. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Later, when I woke up, Randall told me I had lost the baby and the doctor said I could never have children.” Tears slipped down and she wiped them with a handkerchief. “He called me wretched names and told me how it was just one more way I had failed him.” She paused again and seemed to regain her composure after several deep breaths.

  “Oh, Katherine. I’m so sorry.”

  “He almost seemed pleased to tell me the news. But I felt like my heart had been shredded to pieces. I felt guilty for wanting a child so much. Wanting someone to hold and to love . . . someone to protect. Then I realized I could never protect anyone . . . not from that monster. I was selfish to want a baby so badly.”

  Her heart ached for the beautiful woman before her. “It wasn’t selfish, Katherine. Not at all.”

  The young woman straightened. “I still long for a child of my own—to love—but that can never be.”

  “But you have a second chance at love. You never know what God can do.”

  Katherine nodded. “I now understand that God loves me and made me who I am. I admit that I care for Jean-Michel greatly—he’s the only man I ever loved. But what if he can’t get past the fact that I can’t have children? I know he’s always wanted them. We talked about it a lot when we were younger.” Katherine stood and walked around the bed pacing.

  “You are beautiful, Katherine. Do you know that—really know it? You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. And one man—one evil man—cannot overrule what God made you to be.” She paused and bit her lip. The thoughts that entered her mind when Katherine was telling her story made her want to jump out of the bed and give Senator Demarchis a piece of her mind. She’d never even met the man, but Cassidy felt such rage—even hatred for him and what he’d done. She took a deep breath. Forgive me, Lord, for such horrid thoughts. I know it’s not my place to judge him. It was a good thing too.

  A thought came to mind out of nowhere. “Katherine, how do we know that what the doctor even said was true? Or that he ever even said it? The doctor didn’t tell you directly, did he?”

  “No.” Her face lit up a little. “In fact, I never saw the doctor while I was awake. Randall only allowed him to come that once . . . when I was unconscious.” She shook a little and walked back to the chair. “You think Randall convinced the doctor to tell him that? Or . . .” She stiffened and lowered her brow. “He lied to me. To hurt me.” Her face paled with the revelation.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  A bitter laugh filled the air. “I wouldn’t have thought in my younger years that anyone could think or act the way Randall did, but now that I know, I wouldn’t put such deception beyond him.”

  “It sounds to me that the man spoke only lies. Maybe this was one of them.” She reached for Katherine’s hand.

  “Oh, Cassidy, I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  Cassidy felt the fire within her burn hot. “But our hope is in God. Not man.”

  The woman’s eyes filled with tears again. This needed prayer. And lots of it.

  “You are a beautiful child of God and He loves you so much.”

  “I know that, and I’m hoping Jean-Michel will still love me too. But it scares me. I have battled fear and darkness every day for far too long.”

  “I’ll help you win the battle with prayer. I don’t think Jean-Michel needs much encouragement either.”

  “Well, he also feels responsible for Collette. I think she tried his patience a lot on the trip here.”

  “But I do see some progress in her, especially after her chats with little Davey.”

  “Davey has had a better influence on her than any of the adults.” Katherine laughed.

  Cassidy loved that she and Katherine were becoming closer but she worried about what Mrs. Harrison thought. “I understand your grandmother wasn’t excited about you spending time with the staff. I’m not putting you in any kind of situation by . . . well . . .”

  “Being my friend? No. Don’t let Grandmother’s comment discourage you. She’s one of the most genuine people you’ll ever meet but she’s of that generation where they didn’t fraternize with the servants. In Europe, when we lived there, they were always called that, but here we like to use the word ‘staff’ now. Grandmother needs to adjust to how the times are changing. And they are changing . . . a lot.”

  The idea of being referred to as a “servant” made Cassidy giggle. She’d always thought of her position at the Curry Hotel as a prestigious one, along with her father’s and her husband’s. What a different world Katherine had been raised in. “I’m glad you don’t have a problem with it, Katherine. I wouldn’t want to cause you any shame.” No need to tell her that her own husband, Allan, was quite wealthy as well. They enjoyed their simple life.

  “Not at all.” Katherine finally seemed to relax. She smiled. “I am honored to be your friend.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Demarchis.”

  “You are most welcome, Mrs. Brennan. Now what should we do about Collette?”

  23

  AUGUST 1

  Walking the long hallways of the hotel helped Katherine think. Cassidy was amazing. And a friend. It had been a long time since Katherine had a real friend. But when Allan came in to check on his wife, Katherine had been a little uncomfortable. The couple’s love for each other was plain, and Allan seemed perfectly at ease kissing his wife in front of others and waiting on her hand and foot.

  Katherine’s experience being married was nothing like what she witnessed here, and definitely not like her parents’ relationship either. They had been distant with each other and definitely not affectionate. But when John came in and joined the conversation, he told some funny story about
when Cassidy’s mother was pregnant and they’d all laughed. What struck Katherine the most was that the older man clearly still loved his wife and she’d been gone for at least two decades. The time was short with the men visiting, but Katherine found herself longing to see more.

  Was that how real marriages worked?

  Katherine slowly descended the stairs, lost in her thoughts. Her own mother and father hadn’t been all that interested in each other. Katherine couldn’t even say for sure that they shared any common interests—except for her. She thought again of Cassidy and her husband. There was such a gentleness in the way Allan spoke to her . . . touched her. It proved to her that love could exist—that it wasn’t just a fleeting little-girl notion, as her mother had suggested.

  And that thought brought her back to Jean-Michel. Her feelings for him had been so much more than notions. Much more so now. When they were younger, he had been the first person she thought of upon waking and the last one on her mind when falling asleep. Always there were the butterflies in her stomach, the longing to see him, talk to him, touch him.

  The stark realization hit her. Those feelings were stronger now than ever. Especially since she’d given up her fear.

  She headed into the dining room and hoped she could find Jean-Michel. There were a lot of things she needed to tell him.

  “Katherine.”

  His voice sent a shiver up her spine. This one warmed her—made her feel young again. She turned to find Jean-Michel watching her from where he stood.

  “Good afternoon.” Heat rushed up her neck.

  He crossed the short distance between them. Smiling down at her, he extended his hand. It was as if he were asking permission to touch her. Katherine smiled and put her hand in his.

  His smile broadened. “Would you take a walk with me? There’s so much I need to say.”

  “I was just coming to find you for the very same reason.” She held his gaze, unwilling to look away. For so long this was the face that had carried her through bad times. “I’d love to.”