The Birthright
© 2001 by Janette Oke & T. Davis Bunn
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
E-book edition created 2011
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.
ISBN 978-1-5855-8876-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Cover by Dan Thornberg
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. 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.
T. DAVIS BUNN has been a professional novelist for twenty years. His books have sold in excess of six million copies in sixteen languages, appearing on numerous national bestseller lists. Davis has received numerous literary accolades, including three Christy Awards for excellence in fiction. He currently serves as Writer-in-Residence at Regent’s Park College, Oxford University, and is a sought-after lecturer on the craft of writing.
By T. Davis Bunn
The Book of Hours
The Great Divide
Winner Take All
The Lazarus Trap
Elixir
Imposter
H
EIRS OF
A
CADIA
†
The Solitary Envoy
The Innocent Libertine
The Noble Fugitive
The Night Angel
Falconer’s Quest
All Through the Night
My Soul to Keep
Lion of Babylon
By Janette Oke & T. Davis Bunn
Return to Harmony
A
CTS OF
F
AITH
The Centurion’s Wife
The Hidden Flame
The Damascus Way
S
ONG OF
A
CADIA
The Meeting Place The Birthright
The Sacred Shore The Distant Beacon
The Beloved Land
†
with Isabella Bunn
By Janette Oke
C
ANADIAN
W
EST
When Calls the Heart When Breaks the Dawn
When Comes the Spring When Hope Springs New
Beyond the Gathering Storm
When Tomorrow Comes
L
OVE
C
OMES
S
OFTLY
Love Comes Softly Love’s Unending Legacy
Love’s Enduring Promise Love’s Unfolding Dream
Love’s Long Journey Love Takes Wing
Love’s Abiding Joy Love Finds a Home
A P
RAIRIE
L
EGACY
The Tender Years A Quiet Strength
A Searching Heart Like Gold Refined
S
EASONS OF THE
H
EART
Once Upon a Summer Winter Is Not Forever
The Winds of Autumn Spring’s Gentle Promise
Seasons of the Heart
(4 in 1)
W
OMEN OF THE
W
EST
The Calling of Emily Evans A Bride for Donnigan
Julia’s Last Hope Heart of the Wilderness
Roses for Mama Too Long a Stranger
A Woman Named Damaris The Bluebird and the Sparrow
They Called Her Mrs. Doc A Gown of Spanish Lace
The Measure of a Heart Drums of Change
I call to remembrance my song in the night;
I commune with mine own heart,
and my spirit made diligent search….
Thy way is in the sea,
and thy path in the great waters,
and thy footsteps are not known.
Psalm 77:6, 19
Contents
Catherine stood in the tiny second bedroom of her daughter Anne’s home. She could hear the sounds of departure beyond the closed door. But Catherine was not good at leave-takings. There had been far too many in her life already. She was determined to be strong this day, but to do so she needed a moment alone. Time to sit by the window and watch the last of autumn’s finery carpet the small front garden, time to pray to the Lord for strength.
So much had happened in these past months. She felt as though her memories were a swirl of autumn colors, caught in the winds of time. The previous summer, Sir Charles Harrow, eighth earl of Sutton, had come to Halifax in search of his brother, Catherine’s husband. Unable to have children of his own, Charles required an heir to carry on the Harrow legacy and to secure his vast landholdings in England—the only need great enough to force him to renew contact with his estranged brother. But Charles had discovered that the child Andrew and Catherine had raised was not theirs by birth.
Though not by bloodline, Anne was as close to Catherine’s heart as any child could be. As she sat by the window, Catherine felt nearly overwhelmed by the wonder of great events and small beginnings. Simple friendship with an Acadian family had blossomed into both heartache and joy. Though Catherine had lost her daughter and raised an Acadian baby as her own, in fact she had received gifts beyond measure. Now she called both these lovely young women her daughters. Nicole, the child raised by Louise and Henri Robichaud in the Louisiana bayous, and Anne, the girl she and Andrew had cherished these eighteen years.
Now Anne was wed, and as Catherine sat with her eyes half-closed against the sun’s warming rays, she inwardly heard once more the joyful sounds of those wedding-day bells. Andrew’s brother had arranged for a ship to bring Henri and Louise to Nova Scotia for the marriage. This had been the gesture of a man transformed, both heart and mind, through the hardship and discovery of his voyage. Charles was not only a man now at peace with himself and his brother’s family, but a living testimony to the power of God. As Catherine prepared herself for yet another departure, she gave silent thanks for this brother-in-law who had become a friend.
Before his return to England, Charles had presented two bolts of finest silk as a wedding gift. Catherine did not even try to guess at the cost. She and Louise and Nicole all had worn new gowns. Her own was lavender in color, and Catherine could not help stroking its softness. The other bolt had been a creamy pastel silk, taken from the hour before sunrise, and they had used almost all of it for Anne’s wedding dress. When Anne had emerged through the church’s front doors, a collective sigh of wonderment had risen from the congregation. Anne’s betrothed, a fine young doctor by the name of Cyril Mann, had watched his bride’s approach with something akin to awe. Catherine had sat and held Louise’s hand through the entire ceremony, both of them trying not to weep. Anne, this precious one who was daughter to them both, this fragile girl whom they both loved, had looked radiant that day. Nicole had stood beside her “sister” as bridesmaid, together at last.
Now it was Nicole who knocked and opened Catherine’s door. “We’re ready, Mama.”
“Then so am I.” She rose and held out her hand to her daughter. “I was thinking about Anne’s wedding day.”
“So much joy,” Nicole agreed, the words accented by her native French. “A good thing to remember at this time.”
“Yes.” Catherine stood holding her daughter’s hand, studying the strong, lovely features. The wedding was a month and more behind them now, and the time had come for yet another parting.
“Is something the matter, Mama?”
“I just wish I could hold on to the good moments longer,” Catherine said. She took a deep breath. “Come, let us be off.”
But as she followed Nicole out to where the others waited, it was not just this day’s parting that pierced her heart. She looked ahead and saw the future with a mother’s wisdom and prayed for strength to endure what she sensed might lie ahead.
The day was gentled by a wind far too warm for early October in Halifax. Out over the slate gray sea, light rimmed the horizon. Above was only cloud, so thick it appeared more like twilight than midmorning. Anne reached out with both hands, one taking hold of her husband, Cyril, the other gripping Nicole. She drew strength from these two fine people and knew with utter certainty that were it not for them here beside her, heartbreak and tears most certainly would overwhelm her.
Henri and Louise Robichaud made their way about the gathering, holding each person in turn, saying their good-byes. Two months they had been reunited here in what was once known as Acadia and was now called Nova Scotia. Though this particular day graced them with the comfort of a gentle autumn, already the landscape was dotted with the remnants of two early snows. Three times Henri and Louise had postponed their departure, not wanting to leave behind their precious daughters. Now they had no choice.