Like Gold Refined
Like
G
OLD
R
EFINED
Books by Janette Oke
Return to Harmony
*
A
CTS OF
F
AITH
*
The Centurion’s Wife • The Hidden Flame
C
ANADIAN
W
EST
When Calls the Heart • When Comes the Spring
When Breaks the Dawn • When Hope Springs New
Beyond the Gathering Storm
When Tomorrow Comes
L
OVE
C
OMES
S
OFTLY
Love Comes Softly • Love’s Enduring Promise
Love’s Long Journey • Love’s Abiding Joy
Love’s Unending Legacy • Love’s Unfolding Dream
Love Takes Wing • Love Finds a Home
A P
RAIRIE
L
EGACY
The Tender Years • A Searching Heart
A Quiet Strength • Like Gold Refined
S
EASONS OF THE
H
EART
Once Upon a Summer • The Winds of Autumn
Winter Is Not Forever • Spring’s Gentle Promise
Seasons of the Heart
(4 in 1)
S
ONG OF
A
CADIA
*
The Meeting Place • The Sacred Shore • The Birthright
The Distant Beacon • The Beloved Land
W
OMEN OF THE
W
EST
The Calling of Emily Evans • Julia’s Last Hope
Roses for Mama • A Woman Named Damaris
They Called Her Mrs. Doc • The Measure of a Heart
A Bride for Donnigan • Heart of the Wilderness
Too Long a Stranger • The Bluebird and the Sparrow
A Gown of Spanish Lace • Drums of Change
*
with Davis Bunn
JANETTE
OKE
Like
G
OLD
R
EFINED
{P
RAIRIE
L
EGACY
• 4}
Like Gold Refined
Copyright © 2000
Janette Oke
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Photographer: Mike Habermann
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 978–0—7642–0530–9
The Library of Congress has cataloged the original edition as follows:
Oke, Janette.
Like gold refined / by Janette Oke.
p. cm. — (A prairie legacy ; 4)
ISBN 0–7642–2162–0 — ISBN 0–7642–2161–2 (pbk.)
1. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. I. Title.
PR9199.3.O38 L46 2000
813’.54—dc21
00–008127
JANETTE OKE was born in Champion, Alberta, to a Canadian prairie farmer and his wife, and she grew up in a large family full of laughter and love. She is a graduate of Mountain View Bible College in Alberta, where she met her husband, Edward, and they were married in May of 1957. After pastoring churches in Indiana and Canada, the Okes spent some years in Calgary, where Edward served in several positions on college faculties while Janette continued her writing. She has written forty-eight novels for adults and another sixteen for children, and her book sales total nearly thirty million copies.
The Okes have three sons and one daughter, all married, and are enjoying their fifteen grandchildren. Edward and Janette are active in their local church and make their home near Didsbury, Alberta.
We owe much to some very special people.
Not only have they raised children they can be proud of,
but they have willingly linked them with our family.
So to—
Koert & Carol Dieterman
Carl & Sheila Galloway
Wendall & Delores Sousley
and Olga Larimer—
Edward and I say a big thank-you.
You have given to us a priceless gift in your children
who have brought joy and growth to the lives of
Terry, Lavon, Lorne, and Laurel,
and have been loving parents to
Ashley, Nate, Jessica, Katie, Courtney, Jackie,
Alex, Kristie, Emily, and Connor
—the special grandchildren that we share.
GOD BLESS YOU.
Table of Contents
A
thankful sigh gently eased from Virginia’s lips as she lifted her head for another glimpse of brightness outside the kitchen window. At long last a small beam of sunshine was pushing its way through the clouds that had blanketed the heavens for the past three days. It was good to see the sun again. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered, hardly realizing she did so. Maybe now the ground would have a chance to dry, and the children, who had become impatient and fussy, would once again be able to play in the farmyard. The gloomy weather and confined circumstances were hard enough for Virginia to deal with on her own without also trying to entertain three housebound youngsters.
Another anemic ray managed to find its way through the overcast and to light the tip of a cloud directly above. Virginia felt her shoulders lift. The Lewis family would not be facing a second flood after all. But even as she gloried in that fact, she reminded herself that it would be some time, even with bright sunshine, until the yard dried enough to allow the children out. But even as she was concluding that thought, she felt her skirt tugged.
“Mama!” Four-year-old Martha didn’t even try to temper her excitement. “We can go out now.”
Virginia’s eyes again shifted to the window. “Not yet,” she cautioned, moving with difficulty from the cupboards to the stove with persistent Martha in tow.
“But you said … ” whined Martha.
“I said we had to wait for sunshine.”
“But it is shining. See.”
“It’s not … ”
“It is. Look.”
At Martha’s insistence, Virginia glanced over her shoulder. “It’s not
fully
shining,” she said.
“But it’s
trying
,” argued Martha. “It’s a little bit shining. See.” She pointed again toward the window.
Virginia half turned from stirring her pot. No one was more anxious than she to have the children out from underfoot. But it would be foolish to send them out to swollen puddles and everything dripping from the recent rains.
“I meant the sun had to warm the world again. To dry things,” she informed her impatient daughter.
“You didn’t say that. You said—”
“I know what I said,” replied Virginia, trying to keep frustration from edging her voice. “You’d come in soaking wet if you went out now.”
“We’d dry.”
Virginia nodded.
Yes
, she thought,
you’d dry
. Was it worth it? It was tempting. …
“Mindy gets to go out.” “Mindy has to go to school.” “Why can’t I go to school?”
“We’ve been through that before, Martha. You’ll go to school when you’re old enough.”
“Go school,” echoed a little voice from behind Virginia. Two-year-old Olivia had joined her older sister. Virginia turned to the child. Of the three children to whom she had given birth, Olivia was most like her father. Virginia couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at Olivia, who stood with a rag doll dragging from one pudgy hand, a curl of brown hair hanging over
Like Gold Refined
E one eye, the permanent mischievous grin on her round baby face. She studied her mother with direct, candid eyes, ready to back her big sister Martha in any argument that might get them both out of the house.
“No,” said Virginia, her voice softening as she knelt to hug them both. “Neither of you is going off to school.”
Olivia swung her attention back to Martha. Were they to throw a tantrum, cajole further, or let things pass and go back to playing?
But Martha was not ready to give up. “I bet Murphy has been lonesome.”
“Murphy is doing just fine.” Virginia rose to her feet and tasted the stew for seasoning. It was fine, she decided as she pushed the pot to the back of the stove. It would be ready for supper when the men came in from a long day of working with the horses. But she had to make the biscuits and the pudding for dessert. The clock on the wall alerted her that the baby would soon be waking from his nap and Mindy would soon be home from school.
“Why don’t you play with the blocks Papa made you?” she encouraged her two daughters.
“We already did,” muttered Martha.
“ Then play with the dolly house from Grandpa and Grandma.”
“We did that, too.” “Would you like—”
“I want to go outside. That’s what I’d like.”
Olivia nodded in vigorous agreement.
“I understand,” said Virginia as she moved to get out a bowl and ingredients for making the pudding. “But we don’t always get what we want.”
“I know that,” replied Martha with an impatient swing of her arm. “But why can’t we get what we want …! sometimes?”
“You do. Sometimes.”
“Why can’t we
this
time?”
Virginia looked at the clock. It was wrong to give in to Martha’s badgering. Yet it was so difficult to be harassed when precious time was slipping away. She had enough on her mind. Supper preparations were pressing on her immediately, she was tired from a long day spent doing family washing, had been up for much of the night with a teething infant, and she sure didn’t feel like waging war with a persistent youngster. Yet if she gave in, Martha would think that she could always have her way.
Virginia turned. “Listen to me—carefully,” she said firmly. “Mama will be as happy as you are when you are able to go out to play again. But it is still too wet and too cold to go out today. Mindy will soon be home from school, and she can read to you. But for now I want you to find something to do together. And I do not want you to ask about going out again. Do you understand?”
Virginia’s eyes moved from the pouting face of Martha to the younger Olivia, who was looking to her older sibling for signals of how she should respond. Olivia’s lip came out as she mimicked the face before her. “I want you to be cheerful about it,” Virginia added, looking from one small girl to the other. “And, Martha, I want you to be a good example to Olivia.”
Martha glanced at her chubby little sister, and her countenance changed. She obviously had lost this round. There was no use wasting further energy and time fussing about it.
“Can we have a cookie?” she said, choosing another approach.
“You may have your milk and cookies when Mindy gets home.”
Martha lifted her shoulders and let them fall with an exaggerated shrug. “Then what
can
we do?” she asked, her voice and expression plaintive.
Virginia mentally scrambled for another suggestion, knowing they were as plagued by the weather as she herself. She could not blame them for feeling restless. “How about … how
Like Gold Refined
E about—” she struggled to come up with something—“drawing some pictures for Papa and Slate?”
“Yeah,” enthused Martha, clapping her hands, with a smile replacing the frown.
“Yeah,” echoed Olivia, smacking tiny hands together, her face mirroring the happy grin of her older sister.
Virginia provided the two with paper and crayons and set them up at the kitchen table. “Now, don’t write on the table and don’t just scribble,” she instructed Martha. “Draw a picture on the whole page before you go to another one. Try to color inside the lines.”
The girls settled in happily, eager to fill the empty sheets with wonderful crayon scrawls. Virginia turned back to her mixing bowl. The sun was now streaming in the kitchen window. Hopefully tomorrow would be a better day. Mindy would soon be home to entertain her two younger sisters. Perhaps the supper preparations could be completed on time.
She had just placed the pudding in the double boiler when a distant wail drew her attention.
“Jamie’s awake,” called Martha, as though any person in the house could have missed it.
“Jamie,” Olivia chimed in.
Virginia did hope that the baby would not be as irritable this evening as he had been over the past several days. If only that next tooth would make an appearance. It would be a welcome relief to the entire family.
There was no use trying to finish the pudding before getting the baby up. The girls were already climbing down from the table and heading for the stairs. Once Jamie was awake it meant an instant change of activity for the entire household. Reluctantly Virginia pushed the pudding to the back of the stove. She supposed it would be lumpy, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She was glad that neither her husband, Jonathan, nor their nephew Slate were very particular about food. There would be no complaints at the supper table over a few lumps in the evening dessert.
“I think Toby Wallace likes me,” eight-year-old Mindy announced to the family gathered around the large kitchen table for the evening meal—lumpy pudding and all.
Virginia noted the twinkle in Jonathan’s eyes as he lifted his head to study the freckled face across the table, framed in honey-colored braids over each shoulder.
Baby James, who had been rescued from his high chair because of his fussiness to a place on his father’s knee, took advantage of Jonathan’s distraction to grab at his dinner plate and nearly dump it in their laps. Jonathan’s hand flashed out to avert the disaster, and he moved his body to keep Jamie’s hands away from the table. Jamie was offered a piece of bread crust to chew on.
“How can you tell?” Jonathan queried Mindy when he had things under control once again.
“ ’Cause,” said Mindy, tipping her head to one side and giving her father an all-knowing look. “He always looks at me in class and he teases me and he told Paul Conridge that he couldn’t sit by me and he even chased me with a grasshopper.”
“Sounds about right to me,” put in Slate with a chuckle.
“A grasshopper!” hollered Martha with no idea what the conversation was all about. “A grasshopper. Did it bite?”
“It was dead, silly,” responded Mindy.
“Dead. Yuk.”
“Yuk,” repeated Olivia, placing a hand over her mouth to keep her mashed potatoes from spilling out.
Virginia let her gaze sweep around the table. The meal that she had struggled to prepare was being quickly consumed before her very eyes. A little sigh escaped her. If only she could get it to the table in as short a time as it took her family to dispose of it, her task would be much lighter. But then a smile lightened her face. She was blessed. Busy—but blessed. They were all there. Together. Sharing happenings and good-natured
Like Gold Refined
E bantering and chuckles. All healthy. All loved. Her Jonathan, his hair still damp where he had washed the day’s perspiration from his forehead. Slate, Jonathan’s young nephew who had come to work with them. Virginia did not know how they would ever have managed without Slate. Their beloved Mindy, almost nine. Jenny’s baby, who was one of this family as surely as if she had been born to them. It was easy to forget there ever was a time when Mindy had not been theirs. Martha, their mischievous, boisterous, funny family clown. Olivia, who spent her days watching and mimicking older sisters. Jamie, their usually good-natured little elf, whose incoming teeth had him momentarily cantankerous to the point that he would not even sit in his own high chair.
They were all there. Her family. Her family who filled her days with busyness, her heart with love. She had been blessed. She wouldn’t change her lot with anyone in the entire world.
The next morning when the yard still looked muddy, she bundled up her three after Mindy left for school and whisked them off for a visit to her mother in town. It was worth all the effort simply to avoid another argument with a pleading Martha. And Virginia needed to get out herself. Belinda’s warm welcome confirmed to her that she had made the right decision.
“Mama had another fall.”
But Virginia’s sense of reprieve for herself and her children was soon jolted back to reality by her mother’s anxious words.
Belinda’s solemn tone brought Virginia’s head up from unbundling the small Olivia. Belinda was busy removing Jamie’s wraps.
“Was she hurt?”
“She struck her cheek. Gave herself a nasty black eye.”
Belinda freed Olivia to run to the back bedroom where Martha was already helping herself to Grandma’s toy box.
“Is Grandma all right?” Virginia wondered in concern.
Belinda sat Jamie on the floor and offered him a ring of measuring spoons before answering. Virginia saw the troubled look on her mother’s face.
“I guess she is. She’ll get better … again. But it worries me.”
Virginia nodded. They had talked of it before. It was not the first time that Grandmother Marty had fallen of late.
“Luke says she just tries to move too quickly. She thinks she still can rush around like a young woman. She doesn’t wait to get her balance before she sets off.”
That too had been discussed before.
“She shouldn’t be alone,” Belinda noted as she turned to the stove to heat the teakettle.
Virginia nodded again and pulled out a kitchen chair. They had talked about that many times, as well.
“If they weren’t so stubborn,” Belinda went on, shaking her head. “Mama says that Papa feels much more comfortable in his own home—with his own chair, his own bed. And Papa says that Mama would miss being able to look out the window and see her birds and her garden and the fields. Each is pretending the reason to stay there is for the sake of the other—but they both know better. Neither of them wants to move.”