Whispers from Yesterday (12 page)

“I’ll do it, Dusty. I promise.” The boy continued his battle with tears.

“Maybe Miss Karen would be willing to help you.” Dusty glanced at her a second time, his gaze no longer stern.

This cannot be happening to me,
she thought as she stared at him.

“You know horses, Karen. Would you help Billy with Sundowner? Hold him like you’re doing now while Billy dresses the wound?”

Was she still holding the horse’s halter? She’d forgotten.

I can’t get involved with these people. I can’t fall for this man. I don’t belong here. I belong in Los Angeles. I belong with my friends at the country club, and …

“Karen?”

She gave her head a slight shake, then nodded. “Yes. Of course I’ll help Billy.”
But only until I get some money together and get out of here. Only until then.

The sound of an automobile coming up the drive was the perfect excuse for her to break eye contact before he could guess what she was thinking and feeling.

Dusty stepped away from the horse, his gaze on the car as they waited to see who their visitor was. A moment later, he muttered something under his breath, then strode toward the corral gate.

“That’s the man from the restaurant,” Billy said. “The one who was mad at Junkman.”

This can’t be good,
Karen thought. Then she asked, “Where is he?”

“Him and the others are helping Miss Sophie weed her vegetable garden.”

“Maybe you’d better join them.” She gave Billy a little shove. “And don’t say anything about that man being here.”

“Are you—?”

“Go on. Do as I say.” She unbuckled the lead from Sundowner’s halter and followed Billy across the corral.

She approached the car as the visitor demanded, “Where is he? Where is that—” He called Hal a foul name.

Dusty’s face darkened, but he managed to hold his temper. “Watch what you’re saying, sir.”

The man reached into the car and hauled a young girl out, forcing her to stand right next to him, his hand locked around her upper arm like a vice. Her face was as white as a sheet, and her eyes were swollen from crying.

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered.

“He got her pregnant.”

Dusty must have heard Karen’s small gasp, for he turned his head to look in her direction. For an instant, she caught a glimpse of how much he cared, of how much he gave of himself to the boys who stayed at the ranch.

Instinctively, she moved to stand beside him.

“I’m going to have that kid put in jail. You hear me, Stoddard?”

Dusty seemed to come to himself. Calmly, he said, “May I have your name, sir?”

“Call. Olen Call.” He gave the girl’s arm a rough yank. “And this little tramp is Patty.”

“Karen.” Dusty’s controlled tone of voice couldn’t hide his
anger from her. “Would you mind taking Patty into the house while I have a talk with Mr. Call?”

“Of course.” She moved forward and gently drew the girl away from her father. “Come with me, Patty. I’ll see if there isn’t some lemonade in the refrigerator.”

Ofttimes, when Sophia closed her eyes, her mind carried her back through the years for brief visits with old friends and beloved family members. It was particularly easy to do when she sat in the shade of the willow tree on a warm June day.

Today she’d been remembering her first summer as Bradley’s wife. She’d been happy, despite the arduous work of getting their little spread started. She’d loved riding horses and driving cattle with him and their cowhand, Lucky Sam Peterman. She’d been young, slender, pretty, and filled with dreams and plans for the future.

“I want a dozen children, Bradley, and I want all of them to look like you.”

“No, they’ve gotta look like you, sweet pea.”

She’d loved her husband very much. And yet, even so, there was a part of her heart she’d withheld from him throughout their marriage.

“Why can’t you let go of Mikkel?”
Bradley had asked once.
“I want your whole heart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? Then write to your sister before it’s too late. The war’s over. Write to her.”

Of course, it had already been too late, though they hadn’t known it at the time. It had already been too late to tell Esther how much she loved her, that it hadn’t been Esther’s fault Mikkel
loved her and not Sophia, that she missed her sister and was sorry. So sorry.

She released a sigh. Those weren’t the memories she’d been anticipating. The Lord knew she had a lifetime of regrets.

“Praise God for setting me free from regrets,” she whispered, then she opened her eyes.

Billy came running around the corner of the house. He stopped abruptly, an anxious gaze locked on Hal.

“Billy, what is it?” she called to him.

The boy glanced her way, waging a valiant effort to hide his feelings. “Nothin’.”

Sophia wasn’t fooled. With a tiny groan, she pushed herself up from the bench and walked toward Billy. She saw him look at the three other boys who were busy weeding, then back at her. Whatever was wrong, it had something to do with Hal.

“Did Dusty send you for me?” she asked, watching him closely.

He shook his head.

“How is your horse?”

“He’s gonna be okay.” Another anxious glance toward Hal. “Dusty says I can’t ride him for a while, and I’m gonna have to tend to his leg, but he’s gonna be okay.”

Sophia touched his shoulder. Speaking softly, she said, “What is it, Billy? Something’s bothering you.”

“Miss Karen told me not to say anything.”

She raised an eyebrow.

Billy’s resolve crumbled before her look. “It’s that man. The one who came to the restaurant. The one who was so mad at Junkman.”

“What about him?”

“He’s here.”

“Oh, dear.” It was her turn to glance toward Hal and the others. Fortunately, they’d given scant notice to the elderly woman and
young boy. “You’d better stay here.” She pressed her index finger to her lips. “Miss Karen was right. Don’t say anything until we know why he’s come.”

She followed the path toward the side of the house.

O Lord, my heart is full of fear. Protect Hal. Protect all these boys. Keep us in the center of Your will. Give Dusty wisdom. You are an awesome God, and we trust in Your goodness and mercy all the days of our lives. Whatever is about to happen, help us to keep our eyes on You. Amen.

Rounding the corner, she saw the automobile and the two men. Though they weren’t shouting, each man’s body proclaimed his anger in the way he stood and faced the other.

Where was Karen?

Dusty glanced toward Sophia. He stared at her for a moment, then jerked his head toward the house before returning his attention to the other man.

Sophia climbed the few steps to the porch, then entered the house. She found Karen in the kitchen, seated at the table with a young girl who was weeping inconsolably into her hands while Karen patted her back.

You keep that sleaze ball away from my daughter, or I’ll have him thrown in jail.

With the memory of those words ringing in her ears, Sophia understood the situation without further explanation, and her heart sank.

“Grandmother.”

It was the first time Karen had called Sophia that, but this wasn’t the moment to take pleasure in it. “Yes.” She moved forward again. “I’m here.”

The girl choked back a sob as she lowered her hands.

She’s so young, Lord. She can’t be more than fifteen.

“Patty!” came a shout from outside.

The girl bolted from her seat.

“Patty, get out here!
Now!”

“He’s gonna make me have an abortion,” she whispered, then she ran from the house.

O, Father God. No!

Sophia turned and followed after Patty as fast as her old legs would carry her. She reached the porch in time to see the girl’s father grab her by the arm and force her into the car with a none-too-gentle shove. Before Sophia could step off the porch, the man got behind the wheel and started the engine. He said something to Dusty through the open window, then drove away, a spray of dirt and gravel flying up behind his rear tires.

Karen’s fingers closed around Sophia’s arm. “Dusty will take care of it.”

“I hope so, dear,” Sophia replied while patting Karen’s hand. “Dear God, I hope so.”

Sunday, May 9, 1937

Dear Diary,

Sophia has steadfastly refused to be my maid of honor. Mikkel has tried talking to her, but she will not relent. I can see the sadness in her eyes and the bitterness, too. I want so much to help her, but she will have no part in it.

Mama is beside herself. I am getting married in less than a month. She is making my wedding gown. And all the while, her daughters are at war.

Papa has warned Sophia that she will one day regret her decision, but Sophia insists she will not.

Father in heaven, is there no way for me to reach my sister? Please soften her heart toward me. All my life she has
been there for me. We learned to play the piano together. She taught me to swim when I was too afraid to get in the water. She helped me with my algebra or I would have surely failed that subject. I cannot help loving Mikkel, nor am I sorry I am to marry him. But what about Sophia?

Esther

Wednesday, June 2, 1937

Dear Diary,

I am frightened.

My wedding gown is finished and hanging in the parlor. Delphia has her bridesmaid gown. She says it is the loveliest dress she has ever owned and that my mama is a wonder. Some gifts have been delivered and are sitting on the table, prettily wrapped. Mrs. Booher at the bakery says my cake will be large enough to feed the entire church congregation, all of whom are expected to be there for the wedding on Saturday morning.

I love Mikkel. I have come to love him more every single day. But I am still frightened.

Today he told me that we will be leaving later this summer for Denmark where he intends to assist his grandfather in his church. I am more than frightened. I am terrified. I have never gone farther from home than to Boise, less than a hundred miles away. Mikkel says it will only be for a year. Two at the most. But how shall I get along? I have learned only a little of the Danish Mikkel has tried to teach me.

I long to talk to Sophia about my fears. She has been such a rock for me. Always she has listened and advised. But it is useless to try to talk to her now. She wants nothing to do with
me. She will not listen or advise. She says she is not coming to the wedding.

I don’t believe her. She will come. She must. She could not hate me that much.

Oh, Sophia, you were my closest and dearest companion, You were more than my sister. You were my friend. Why have you deserted me?

But God hasn’t deserted me. Even in my fear and uncertainty, I feel Him near, offering comfort and courage. In my weakness, He is strong. His strength is perfect and His grace is sufficient.

Esther

ELEVEN

Karen paced the tiny parlor of the ranch house. Every once in a while, she paused and looked toward the front door, wondering what was happening in the bunkhouse between Dusty and Hal. Then she started pacing again.

“Sit down, dear,” her grandmother commanded gently. “Your worry will change nothing.”

“How can you
not
worry?”

“The Bible says, ‘And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?’ So that’s what I try to practice. Not to worry.”

“And you succeed?”

Sophia shook her head. “Not every time. But the older I get, the more often I’ve seen the hand of God miraculously change circumstances and bring good out of all kinds of disasters.”

“Miracles.” Karen’s tone mocked the word. “You and Dusty talk like they happen every day.”

“They do.”

She whirled around, ready to tell her grandmother she was either senile or a fool. One or the other. But something in the elderly woman’s expression stopped her.

Sophia’s smile was tender, the look in her eyes slightly distant,
as if she could see something Karen couldn’t. “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee,” she said softly, more to herself than to her granddaughter.

“And you can be at peace over Junkman’s pregnant girlfriend? And what about her father? Did you see the way he treated her? He called her a tramp. She’s only fifteen, for crying out loud.”

Sophia sighed. “Fifteen. That young. I’d hoped I was wrong.” She sighed again, then added, “I’m not saying the days ahead of us will be easy. There are consequences for all of our actions, for the foolish choices we make when we insist upon our own way. But that doesn’t mean God won’t be there with us. It doesn’t mean He won’t forgive us and meet us at the point of our need. Jesus loves us.”

“Oh, honestly,” Karen muttered before striding out of the house.