[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart (4 page)

Back and forth my feelings swung, like the pendulum on
our grandfather clock.

After considerable debate and prayer and thought., I felt
directed to Joshua 1:9: "Be strong and of a good courage: be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is
with thee whithersoever thou goest."

I repeated the passage out loud and felt my anxieties relax
into peace. I would go.

Mother was almost beside herself with joy and excitement
when I told her. Julie begged to go with me. I loved Julie and I
was sure that there would be many times in the future when I
would wish for her company; but the thought of trying to
watch over a girl like Julie, in a land filled with men looking
for brides, fairly made me shiver. I was glad when Papa and
Mother promptly told her no.

Another month, and the school year came to a close. I
waved good-bye to the last pupil, packed up all my books and
teaching aids, and closed the door of the classroom carefully
behind me for the last time. Blinking back some tears, I said
good-bye to my fellow teachers and walked away from the
school without looking hack.

I had let Mother tell Jonathan about my decision, and he
seemed overjoyed that I actually was coming. He even wrote a
letter to me, telling me so directly. His and Mother's excitement seemed to be contagious, and my desire to see my
brother was growing daily.

Jonathan had passed the word to the school superintendent, and he, too, hurried a letter off to me. Mr. Higgins (the
name somehow suited my mental image of him) assured me
that he was pleased to hear that I would be coming west; and,
his letter stated, he would give care aid consideration in assigning me to the school that he felt was right for me, and he
would be most anxious to meet me upon my arrival.

The days, filled with shopping, packing and finally shipping my belongings, passed quickly.

Jonathan had said that anything I could spare should be
shipped early. The freight cars had a tendency to get shuttled
aside at times and often took longer for the trip than the passenger cars. I secretly wondered if Jonathan wasn't using this
as a ploy, reasoning that the shipped-ahead trunks would be a
measure of insurance against a girl who at the last moment
might wish to change her mind.

It could have happened. too. When the day arrived that
Papa and I took my trunks to the freight station and I presented my belongings to the man behind the counter, the realization fully hit me that I was taking a giant step into the unknown. Somewhat dazed, I watched my trunks being weighed
and ticketed and finally carted away from the checking desk
on a hand-pulled wagon. In those trunks were my books, bedding, personal effects, and almost my entire wardrobe. It
seemed to me that a large part of my life was being routinely
trundled away. For a moment fear again tightened my throat,
and I had an impulse to dash out and gather those trunks back
to myself and hurry back to the familiar comfort of my own
home and room. Instead, I turned quickly and almost stumbled out of the building. Papa had to break into full stride in
order to catch up to me.

"Well, that's cared for," I said in a whispery voice. trying
to intimate that I was glad to scratch one more task from my
awesome list. I think that Papa saw through my bluff'. He answered me heartily but completely off the subject. "Saw a delightful little hat in that smart little shop beside Eatons. I
thought at the time it was just made for you. Shall we go and
take a look at it?"

Some men despise being seen in a lady's shop. My father
was not one of them. Perhaps it had something to do with the
fact that he had four daughters and an attractive wife. Papa
loved to see his women dressed prettily and took pleasure in
helping us to choose nice things. Besides, he was well aware of
the fact that a new hat was often good medicine for feminine
woes-especially when the difficulty was no more serious than
a butterfly stomach.

I smiled at him, appreciative of his sensitivity. Who would
pamper me when I was away from Papa' I took his arm and
together we headed for the little shop.

Papa was right. The hat did suit me well: the emeraldgreen velvet looked just right with my dark gold hair and hazel
eyes. I liked it immediately and was glad that he had spotted
it. In fact, I decided right then and there that I would wear it
upon my arrival in Calgary. It would give me a measure of confidence, and I had a feeling I would need all of it that I
could get.

As we rumbled home in our motor car, I again thought of
what a thoughtful man I had for a father. I reached over and
placed my hand on the arm of his well-cut suit. I would miss
him. I used my handkerchief to wipe some tears from my eyes,
murmuring something about the wind in my face. There was
still a week before I would board the train. I didn't need to get
soft and sentimental yet.

I fidgeted on the worn leather of the train seat, willing my
nerves to quit jumping and my heart to quit its thunderous
beating. I would soon be arriving in Calgary. The very name
with its unfamiliar ring made my pulse race.

I would soon be seeing my brother Jonathan. My memories
were vaguely outlined in the shadowy figure of a tall, gangly
youth with a strong will of his own. I would also be meeting his
wife, Mary, whom he declared to be the sweetest and most
beautiful woman on the face of the earth. And I would be introduced to four little children--one nephew and three nieces.
I was prepared for them, having purchased sweets at our last
stop. Children were easy to win, but would my brother and my
sister-in-law be pleased with me? Was I ready to step out of
the relative safety of the train into a strange, new world?

My four slow-moving days on the Pacific Western, spent
sitting stiffly in cramped train seats, and even slower-passing
nights, had been gradually preparing me. I finally had been
able to overcome my intense homesickness. The first three
days I had missed my family to such an extent that I feared I
might become ill. Gradually the ache had left, and in its place
there now seemed to be only a hollow.

As the pain had left me, I had been able to find some interest in the landscape, which seemed amazingly different from
what I was accustomed. Jonathan had tried to describe the
land to me in his letters, but I had not visualized the emptiness, the barrenness, the vastness of it all. As I gazed out the train window, it seemed that we traveled on forever, seeing
hardly any people. Occasionally we did pass small herds of animals-antelope, deer and even a few buffalo, roving slowly
across the prairie, and delaying the train once in a while as
they lazily crossed the iron tracks.

I had expected to see Indian teepees scattered all across
the countryside. But in fact, I saw very few Indians at all, and
they were almost all in the small towns that we passed
through, looking very "civilized" indeed. I saw no braves
painted for the warpath. Most Indian people moved quietly
along the streets, concerned only with their own trading activities.

Now we were nearing the frontier town of Calgary, the
home of my brother Jonathan and many other adventuresome
persons. What would it be like? Would it be at all modern?
After I had made my decision to go, Julie had read all she
could find about the West. Where she discovered all of her information, I never did learn; but at any hour of the day or
night that she could corner me, she would announce new
"facts" she had gathered. According to her, the West was full
of reckless, daring men, so eager for a wife that they often stole
one. (I wasn't sure that she disapproved.) Julie painted word
pictures of cowboys, voyageurs, miners and lumbermen-all
roaming the dusty streets in their travel-stained leather and
fur, looking for excitement, women, wealth and danger.
though not necessarily in that order. And Indians-everywhere Indians. Though most were rather peaceable now, she
was sure they still wouldn't hesitate to take a scalp if the opportunity existed. This irrepressible sister of mine had even
dared to whisper that perhaps I should bob my hair so none of
them would be overly tempted by my heavy mass of waves.
She warned me that they might find my dark gold curls with
their red highlights irresistible.

"My scalp, complete with its hair, is quite safe from the Indians," I had assured Julie, but I will admit that she made me
shiver a few times. She had nodded solemnly and informed me
that I was probably right and it was all due to the fortunate
fact that the West now had the North West Mounted Police. According to Julie, they were the West's knights in red-serge
armor, and Calgary abounded with them. Should the need
ever arise, a lady had only to call, and Red Coats would come
running. Judging from the sparkle in Julie's eye as she described this scene, I would have expected her to avail herself of
their services quite regularly.

Julie had also claimed that Calgary was a land of perpetual blizzard. It stopped snowing only long enough to allow an
occasional "chinook" to blow through, and then the cold and
neck-deep snow would again take over.

Calgary was now only minutes away, according to the conductor, and on this August afternoon, with the hot sun beating
down unmercifully upon the stuffy coach, I realized that Julie
had been wrong at least on this one point-unless, of course,
this was just one of those chinooks. Still, I couldn't help but
wonder if Julie may have been mistaken about some other
"facts" as well. I would soon see. In my impatience I stood up
to pace the floor.

There really wasn't much room for walking, and I got the
impression that my stalking back and forth in the narrow aisle
was irritating to some of the other passengers. I smiled my
sweetest smile at those nearest to me. "After sitting so long, I
simply must work some of the knots out of my muscles before
we reach Calgary," I explained. I hoped that they didn't realize it was in reality nerves rather than stiffness that drove me
from my seat.

I walked to he end of the aisle and was nearly hit by the
door when it swung open before the returning conductor. He
looked at me with a startled expression and then got on with
his job which was at this point to call out in a booming voice,
"Calgary! -Calgary!" He passed through the car and into the
next, still calling.

A bustle of activity followed in his wake as people gathered
their belongings, said good-byes to new acquaintances,
donned jackets or shawls, and put on bonnets or hats that had
been laid aside. I used the reflection from the window glass to
adjust my new green bonnet.

The train blew a long, low whistle. One could almost feel exhausted thinking of the amount of steam necessary to produce such a sound. Then the clickity-clack of the wheels began to slow down till I was sure that if' one would choose to
concentrate on the task, each revolution could be counted. We
were now traveling past some buildings. They appeared rather
new and were scattered some distance apart. Most were constructed of wood rather than the brick or masonry which I was
used to back home. A few of the newest ones were made of
sandstone. The streets were not cobblestoned, but dusty and
busy. Men and, thankfully, some women too, hurried back
and forth with great purpose. The train jerked to a stop with a
big hiss from within its iron innards like a giant sigh that the
long journey was finally over. I sighed too as I stood and gathered my things from the seat where I had piled them neatly together. Working my way toward the door, half-step by halfstep in the slow-moving line of fellow passengers, I couldn't
keep my eyes from the windows. It was all so new, so different.
I was relieved to spot many men in business suits among the
waiting crowd. It was a comfort of sorts to realize that the men
of the West were not all rough-and-ready adventurers.

And then through the crowd, seeming head and shoulders
above all others, I noticed two men in red tunics and broadbrimmed Stetsons. Julie's Mounties! I smiled to myself at the
thought of her excitement if she were here! Even their walk
seemed to denote purposefulness, and though people nodded
greetings to them, the crowd seemed to automatically part before them out of respect. I bent down a bit so that I could get a
better view of them through the window. I was immediately
bumped from behind by a package tucked beneath the arm of
a rough-looking man with a cigar in his mouth. I flushed and
straightened quickly, not daring to meet his eyes.

When it was finally my turn, I carefully stepped down,
grateful for the assistance of the conductor with all my parcels
and a small suitcase. When I had negotiated the steps, I
looked up into the smiling eyes of an almost stranger-yet
somehow I knew instantly that it was Jonathan. Without a
moment's hesitation I dropped what I was carrying and threw
my arms around his neck.

Despite my proper upbringing, I was sorely tempted to
stare at everything that our automobile passed on the way to
Jonathan's house. Never in my life had I seen a town like Calgary! Cowboys on horseback maneuvered expertly between
automobiles and pedestrians in the dusty street. Two ladies,
their long skirts lifted daintily, crossed quickly in front of us.
And there was a real Indian, in dark coat and formal hat with
a long braid down his back! I tried desperately not to let my
extreme fascination at the interesting activities around me
show, but I guess I failed.

Jonathan chuckled, "Calgary is a show-off, isn't it, Elizabeth?" As the color moved slowly into my cheeks, he courteously turned his eyes back to the road so as not to embarrass
me further. He had not lived so long in the West as to forget
that it was improper for a lady to stare.

"Do you know that I've lived in this town for almost sixteen years, and I still can't believe what is happening here?"
Jonathan continued matter-of-factly. "It seems that every
time I drive through the streets another building has sprung
up. It reminds me of when I was a child at Christmastime. I
went to bed at night with the familiar parlor as usual; but in
the morning, there was a bedecked tree, festooned with all
manner of strings and baubles and glittering candles. The
magic of it! No wonder children can easily accept fantasy.
And this is almost like a fantasy, don't you think, Elizabeth?"