River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series

by Melody Carlson

  Clark and Hazel chatted about his trip up the river while they waited for Anna. Then she rejoined them and Clark offered to say grace. Hazel smiled in what seemed a tolerant way." My son always likes to pray before he eats," she said as if apologizing.

  "My father always did that too,"Anna admitted. "I sometimes miss it."

  With the blessing said, Hazel explained that Clark had driven over from Eugene yesterday afternoon. "I really didn't expect him so soon, but I'm certainly glad he came."

  "And I've already talked to the power and telephone people in town," Clark explained. "Hopefully, we'll get them out here as soon as possible."

  "I don't recall if I mentioned that Clark is a building contractor," Hazel told her. "Of course, it's taken me a while to get used to that." She sighed sadly. "You see, Clark graduated top of his class in law school, but then decided it didn't interest him."

  Clark shook his head. "Someday I'm hoping she'll get over it too."

  "Oh, I am over it, Son." She grinned and patted his hand." Mostly anyway. I suppose I just like bragging about my boy's impressive education. Despicable, isn't it?"

  "Understandable,"Anna told her. "And forgivable."

  "Bless you."

  "The problem was that I went to war," Clark directed this to Anna, as if that should explain the whole thing. And maybe it did.

  She nodded as she passed him the pickles. "That was a problem . . . for a lot of people."

  "For me, going to war, well, that just changed everything."

  She peered curiously at him as he buttered a piece of bread." I can understand that," she said quietly, hoping he might elaborate more. "It changed things for a lot of men . . . women too for that matter."

  Now he seemed to be studying her. "You seem to know something about this yourself?" There was a question in his voice. "Were you in the service?"

  "No, not really. Although I suppose I felt like it. You see, my husband was severely injured . . . in battle . . . I cared for him until he passed . . . about eight years ago."

  "I'm sorry." Clark's blue eyes looked genuinely sympathetic too. "So I'm sure you do understand how war changes things."

  "If women ruled the world there would be no war," Hazel stated.

  Clark laughed. "Don't be so sure about that, Mom. I've known some pretty feisty women, some that started a few small battles too."

  Hazel chuckled. "I suppose that's true."

  "I'm still curious how the war made you decide not to practice law,"Anna said to him.

  "Ah, yes. I suppose that doesn't make sense." He took a sip of lemonade, and, with a thoughtful expression, continued." I was a bombardier in the Army Air Corps. At the time it was highly necessary, and it helped us beat Hitler. But now I feel a sense of sadness to think of it . . . all the death and destruction those bombs caused. It's hard to even speak of it now."

  "You were simply doing your job, Son."

  "I suppose."

  "I can understand how that would be hard on a person,"Anna told him. "My husband witnessed some horrors that took a toll on him too."

  Clark nodded. "So when I got home I was so sick of destruction that I decided I wanted to build things. I wanted to use my hands and my mind and my body to create homes—good solid homes. At first I thought it was just a passing fancy—sort of a phase that I needed to get out of my system. But the more I built, the more I loved doing it."

  "And people love Clark's homes too," Hazel gushed. "Every single one of them is unique and wonderful, but without being terribly expensive. He's always got a waiting list of customers too. But just the same, he refused to go with tract housing like some developers do. He only builds one or two houses at the same time."

  "And right now I'm between houses," he told her. "Which is why I could come out here and spend some time with you."

  "I'm so glad you did, too. I wish you could've brought Marshall with you."

  Clark frowned. "I asked him to come, Mom, but as usual, he had something else to do."

  "Marshall is Clark's son. Seventeen and he's been a bit of a handful."

  "He's with his mother," Clark explained. "She's the pushover. Lets him have his way if he throws a fit." He shook his head. "But I won't go into that." He looked at his empty plate." Thank you for the delicious lunch, Anna. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I'd like to go see if I can make myself useful outside." He removed a stub of a pencil and a little notebook from his shirt pocket. "If all goes well, we'll have you powered up by the end of the week."

  "It's hard to imagine what it will be like to have electricity around here,"Anna said as she started to clear the table." Although I won't miss the noise of the generator, or having to keep an eye on it, fill it with gas, start it up, or any of that."

  "No, no,"Anna took the dishes from her. "This is my work, Hazel. I know you can't wait to start reading those stories my father wrote down. Now, off with you."

  "I'd think it might simplify your life considerably." Hazel picked up some things from the table.

  Hazel chuckled. "Well, I am anxious." But before she left, she called out, "Now, you did mention to Clark that you might turn this place into an inn, didn't you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "For the electrical and telephone. It might be best if they knew about that up front, might save you some time and money on down the line. I'd recommend you run down there and let Clark know so he can keep it in mind."

  Anna nodded. "Yes, that might be wise. Thank you for thinking of it." She rinsed the plates then set them in the sink, dried her hands, then went out to see if she could find Clark.

  "Hey, I was just about to come looking for you," he called out when he saw her.

  "Did you need something?"

  He asked her about the boundaries of the property and she pointed them out. Then she explained the idea to possibly turn the place into an inn. "It's probably a far-fetched idea. Your mother actually suggested it. And I thought it might be worth looking into."

  "I think it's a great idea. And this is a beautiful piece of property. I can imagine people wanting to pay to stay here. With your dock, you could probably entice fishermen at the very least."

  "Well, it might be a way to help me to stay here." She looked out over the river with a longing. "And I'd like that."

  "Say." He grinned. "If you decide to turn it into an inn, you might need a contractor."

  She laughed. "I'm sure that I would. The problem is I couldn't possibly afford one."

  "You never know. Anyway, it doesn't hurt to dream big, Anna."

  She smiled at the sound of him saying her name with what seemed genuine affection. An unexpected warm rush swept over her—instantly followed by an icy blast of guilt that extinguished it. Good grief, what had come over her just now? Clark had a wife and a son at home. What was she thinking?

  "Well, thank you, Clark. I'll let you get to it." She abruptly turned to leave and, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, she hurried up to the house. She hoped he hadn't noticed anything. Really, when had she become so silly?

  She spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through things in the attic, but by the time she needed to quit, she felt fairly certain that she'd found just about anything that would be of use to Hazel. Still, it was interesting going down memory lane, and it would probably be helpful that she'd piled several useless boxes of old store ledgers and papers by the window to be tossed out later, when she was ready to make a big bonfire outside.

  But right now, she needed to get herself cleaned up and dinner started. Her only question was, What about Clark? Did he intend to stay for dinner? And if so, did he intend to spend the night? And, if so, where would he stay? She could offer him a cot down in the store. Or maybe he'd want to stay in the cabin with his mother, although that would be rather cozy. She wasn't comfortable offering him one of the bedrooms in the house. That was too cozy for her comfort.

  So after she cleaned herself up—taking the time to pin her hair up, which wasn't nearly as comfortable as the b
raids had been—she went to see Hazel, asking her if she knew what Clark's plans were.

  Hazel looked up, in a blurry sort of way, from where she'd been peering intently at one of the story notebooks. "Clark?" she asked absently.

  "Yes, your son. Remember?"Anna smiled. "Will he be staying for dinner? And if so, does he plan to stay overnight. I realize he's rather stuck here without a boat or car and—"

  "Oh, Clark is gone, dear." Hazel waved her hand in a dismissive way. "Don't concern yourself with him."

  "Gone?"Anna blinked. What had he done, floated down the river?

  "Yes, didn't you hear the boat? That nice Henry fellow picked Clark up, just like he'd promised, on his way back to town. Clark is probably back in the hotel by now."

  "Oh." Anna nodded. "I see."

  "So when did you say dinner would be?" She looked at her watch. "Six-thirty?"

  "Yes." Anna stepped out of the doorway. "I'll see you then." As she walked back to the house, she felt disappointed that she hadn't been able to tell Clark good-bye. And at the same time she felt silly for feeling disappointed. It was probably best that he'd left just like he'd come—suddenly and without ado.

  Hazel was flushed with excitement when she came to dinner." Oh, I just translated the most wonderful story of your grandmother's." And as they ate, Hazel went on to tell the story of why the river sparkles like stars. Of course, the tale was very familiar, but Anna didn't say anything because she could see how much Hazel was enjoying herself.

  "Long, long ago," Hazel launched into the telling, "the tribe on one side of the river owned all the stars in the sky, and naturally the tribe on the other side wanted the stars for themselves."

  "Naturally." Anna smiled as she passed Hazel the peas.

  "Fortunately, neither tribe was particularly warlike, but they were not opposed to sneaking over in the middle of the night to quietly steal the stars from each other." Hazel chuckled. "And these moonlight raids went on for some time, the two tribes stealing the stars back and forth until I suppose even the stars were confused. Then one time, the tribe who were the original owners of the stars had the stars back in their custody again, and they didn't want to lose them. So that night they all stayed awake—waiting for the star thieves to arrive."

  Now Hazel lowered her voice, very much like Grandma Pearl used to do. "And they watched from behind the trees as the thieves once again stole their stars. Only this time the original owners followed the thieves, finally stopping them at the river. Well, the original owners must've been quite fed up because on this night, a great battle arose with both tribes fighting over who rightfully owned the stars." Hazel paused to catch her breath.

  "And the stars were caught in the middle of the battle,"Anna continued for her in a dramatic voice. "And they didn't like to see the fighting, so hundreds of the stars leaped from the sky, plummeting right into the river. And the rest of the stars spread themselves out so there would be enough for everyone and so the people would quit fighting. And to this day, that is why the river sparkles like there are stars in it."

  Hazel grinned. "That is right!"

  "I used to love that story." Anna split open a biscuit. "It was my favorite bedtime story. I loved that the stars would do that just to bring peace."

  "It's a lovely story. And one I've never heard before." Hazel reached for the butter. "And it reminded me of Clark and Roselyn and Marshall."

  "Is Roselyn Clark's wife?"

  "Ex-wife." Hazel frowned. "But when she left Clark for Larry back when Marshall was only six, there was a custody battle for Marshall. Naturally, the mother won—mothers almost always do. But the problem was that she and Larry wanted to move down here to Oregon for his work, which seemed unfair since Clark was building homes up near Seattle."

  "That does seem unfair."

  "So Clark was like the stars in your grandmother's story—he made the sacrifice, sold his business, and moved down here and started all over again, just so he could still be near his boy." She chuckled. "And then I followed him. That's why I'm at the university, you know."

  Anna was nodding, trying to take all this in.

  "And now . . . poor Clark, after all he's done, his sacrifices, now his boy is treating him like the enemy."

  "I'm sure his son will grow out of it," she said quietly.

  "Yes, you're probably right. At least I hope so."

  "Did Clark ever remarry?"

  Hazel sadly shook her head. "No. I tease him about that sometimes, telling him that he'll never find a good woman as long as he stays married to his job. That's one of the reasons I asked him to come over to the coast. I thought it would force him to take a little break. Of course, I'm a fine one to talk since I'm somewhat wed to my job too. I suppose it runs in the family. But I do wish he'd slow down, take time to smell the roses so to speak."

  "Yes. That's something I'm just learning to do myself."

  "What an enchanting place you have to do it in too."

  And that was absolutely true. This was a wonderful place to slow down and live life more fully. Anna reminded herself of this very fact as she sat outside watching the moon rise over the river later that evening—it was enchanting. It was just that this part of the river could be a very lonely place too. Of course, she reminded herself, she'd rather be lonely here on the beautiful river than back in Pine Ridge. Because the truth was, that had been lonely too.

  13

  Energized by Hazel's praise and encouragement and the inspiration that she might actually turn her property into a profitable inn, Anna worked harder than she'd ever worked before. Yet at each day's end, she never felt as bone-tired as she'd been while working for her mother-in-law. "I suppose that's the difference between freedom and slavery," she told Hazel one evening as they relaxed in the wicker chairs on the front porch of the store—or rather what used to be the store. Anna was starting to call it the inn now.

  "It is surprising how industry is impacted by ownership." Hazel patted the rocking chair arms. "You did a lovely job on renovating these old chairs, Anna."

  Anna had found the pair of old rockers in the attic a few days ago. After cleaning them up, she'd used her basketweaving skills to repair the seats, then sewn cushions from old pillows to pad them even more. "I remember when I was little and my parents would sit out here in these chairs." She looked out over the river, which reflected the colors of the sunset—rose and peach and lilac. "And sometimes it would just be Daddy, Grandma, and me. And sometimes she would tell a story."

  "Do you think all of her stories were from ancestors? Or is it possible she created some of them herself?"

  Anna thought about it. "To be honest, I thought she made up all of them herself. As a child, I didn't really understand how stories were passed on from generation to generation. And I knew that so much had been lost. I feel sad now thinking of all the things I never thought to ask her. All the history I might've gotten from her, things that would help you too."

  "You were a child, Anna. How would you know? Besides, your father did a lovely job of saving things. He must've loved you and his mother-in-law a lot. That's quite a heritage, if you ask me."

  "Daddy was a very special man."

  "You mentioned that he came from Sweden, but not much else about his history."

  "It's funny, isn't it? I know less about my own father than my grandmother. Although I have found a box of letters and things of his in the attic. Some are from Sweden, although I can't read them since they're in Swedish, at least I assume that's what it is."

  "You could get them translated."

  "Maybe I will someday when I have time. But Daddy never spoke much of Sweden. I got the feeling he wanted to forget about it."

  "What brought him way out here, I wonder."

  Anna laughed. "The gold, of course. He'd heard there was still gold to be found down in southern Oregon. But he soon realized he wasn't cut out to be a miner. So he came up here to work as a logger. Daddy was young and big and strong, and he used to fell trees with a diameter
wider than he was tall. And not with power saws either. But he hurt his back and had to look for another line of work. And then he met my mother and they decided to open this store."

  "I wonder how they could afford to start it up. A young couple like that—he being an immigrant, she being an Indian."

  "Oh, that was because of Babette." By now, Hazel had met Babette, and the two had gotten along wonderfully. "Her husband, Pierre, had been a good friend of Daddy's and Pierre had struck it rich down on the Rogue. After his death, Babette came up here. My parents were already married and Daddy wasn't logging anymore, but they were trying to get the store started up by selling things from a little house Daddy had built for them." Anna pointed down to the dock. "It was gone by the time I was born. But it used to be right down there, next to the river."

  "What happened to the building?"

  "Daddy took it apart and used the lumber to make the outhouses." Anna laughed. "I remember him saying that it hadn't been much bigger than an outhouse anyway."

  "Because Babette was a partner in the store, they were able to build bigger and better, and they could afford to stock it with good merchandise. Babette used to help to buy for the store. That's how she met Bernard, her second husband. He didn't really like Babette working for the store though. And it wasn't long until Daddy paid Babette back every penny of her investment with interest. I remember him saying it wasn't good for friends to owe friends for anything except friendship. And Babette was one of our closest friends. Like an aunt to me."

  "She's a lovely woman."

  Anna looked out over the dusky blue light now blanketing the river. "You know, Hazel, I am almost perfectly happy right now."

  "Almost?"

  "I just wish that things were different between Lauren and me."

  Hazel nodded. "There might not be much you can do about that, dear. Speaking from experience, daughters sometimes take time to appreciate their mothers."