Whispers from Yesterday (8 page)

“Karen’s hurting and she’s afraid,” Sophia told Dusty. “She needs the Lord.”

“You can lead a horse to water …” He let the old adage drift into silence.

Sophia knew what he said was true. Still, she didn’t want her granddaughter leaving the Golden T yet. There was so much left undone. So much still unsaid.

Father, what is it I’m to do?

“It’ll take Hal the rest of the summer to do the work,” Dusty said.

“It will?” She released a silent sigh, suddenly at peace. Many things could happen in three months. She would simply have to trust the Lord’s timing.

“Yeah, and even then I’m not sure the car will be worth much. Depends on how good Hal is.”

“You’re good with cars. You can help him.”

Dusty shook his head, and he frowned. “I never tried to restore one. I was better at hot-wiring them, then selling them for parts and scrap metal.”

“That’s in your past, Dusty.” Her voice softened. “Why is it you’re so forgiving of others but you can’t forgive yourself?”

He didn’t answer. She hadn’t expected him to. In the years Sophia had known Dusty, he’d shared many things about his past. But there was something that remained unspoken. Something he hadn’t turned over to God. A guilt-laden secret that haunted him still.

She reached out and patted the back of Dusty’s hand where it lay atop the table. “You tell Hal to put the car in the shed. He can start making calls to the junkyards on Monday.”

“Thanks. He’ll be glad to hear that.” He rose from his chair. “I think this’ll be good for him.”

Sophia nodded. “Maybe you can get Karen to help. It might be good for her, too.”

“I doubt it. She’d have to get her hands dirty.”

“The worlds you came from are very different, Dusty, but that doesn’t mean her heartaches are any less real than yours or any of our boys.”

He looked chagrined. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He set his hat on his head. “I’ll go tell them your decision.” He turned and left.

Sophia closed her eyes.
What now, Lord? What do You have in store for us now?

I will lead the blind by a way they do not know, in paths they do not know I will guide them. I will make darkness into light before them and rugged places into plains.

She smiled as God spoke to her heart through the familiar Scripture.

Over the years, the Lord had led her along many paths she didn’t know, making rugged places into plains, turning darkness into light. Whatever lay ahead that she couldn’t as yet see, blind as she was, she knew God wouldn’t leave them undone. He would see her—and all of those at the Golden T—through to the end.

Friday, November 6, 1936

Dear Diary,

The most extraordinary thing happened tonight. Dutch and Delphia and Hap and I went to see Anna Karenina at the Rialto Theater. Greta Garbo was fabulous as the tragic heroine, and Basil Rathbone was superb as the cold Russian nobleman she’s married to.

In the movie, Garbo’s Anna destroys her own life in order to run away with Fredric March, the handsome cavalry officer. Freddie Bartholomew played Anna Karenina’s son, whom she loses because of what she does.

Both Delphia and I cried. Hap and Dutch thought we were ninnies and teased us unmercifully, but it did not make us stop. We were still drying our eyes with our handkerchiefs as we left the theater.

And there, in the lobby, we ran into Mikkel Christiansen. He was all alone, and I will never forget the way I felt when our eyes met. Both happy and sad at the same time. Happy to see him, and sad because I was with Dutch instead of him. He greeted us all and asked how we liked the movie. I am certain I made a fool of myself by gushing my opinion.

He walked outside with us, right next to me. I could almost pretend he was my date. And what did we find? A blizzard. Snow blowing so thick we couldn’t even see the cars parked on the street.

Mikkel insisted that we could not drive home in it, so we went to the Penny Diner on the corner. We all called our parents, and Mikkel spoke to them too, assuring them that he would see we got home all right, no matter how late it was.

The storm began to let up by ten o’clock, and we set out for home. We had to drive very slowly. The roads were slick, and I could tell Dutch was nervous. It took us over an hour to reach Delphia’s farm. Mikkel followed us in his own car the entire way. He even went up to the door to say a few words to Mr. and Mrs. Plum.

Then we went on to Hap’s. That took us at least another twenty minutes or so. After Mikkel went up to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Gifford, he came to Dutch’s car and suggested,
since it was approaching midnight and our place was beyond Dutch’s farm but before the church and parsonage, that he drive me the rest of the way home.

I don’t think Dutch was too happy about the pastor abruptly interrupting our date. I think he was counting on a good-night kiss from me. He would not have gotten one, but that is what he wanted, all the same. Still, he couldn’t argue with Pastor Christiansen, and so he agreed.

I would have moved over to Mikkel’s automobile right then if he had asked, only he said I could do so after we reached the Tallman farm. So I stayed in the front seat of Dutch’s Ford for another fifteen minutes. They were long and silent minutes too. Dutch must have sensed what I was feeling. I do not think he is likely to ask me out again.

After Mikkel spoke to the Tallmans, he walked me to his car. I was so nervous I was shaking as I got in. I nearly tore my handkerchief I was twisting it so hard between my hands. But I was glad to be there. I even wished our farm was farther away from the Tallman farm than it is, so I could be with Mikkel longer.

As he drove me home, Mikkel and I talked about the movie some more. He said he was interested in what I thought of the story on a deeper level than merely great entertainment. He asked me a number of questions, and he listened to my answers as if what I had to say was important. Then he talked of reaping what we sow, and the heartache that awaits mankind when we seek our own way rather than God’s.

And yet, even when he was talking about sin, he never sounded like he was preaching at me. It was like he was talking to God rather than me, carrying on a discussion and working things through in his own mind and heart.

When we arrived at our farm and he stopped his automobile, he took my arm and walked me to the front door. Just as if he was my escort for the evening. Unlike Dutch, I would have let Mikkel kiss me if he had tried. He did not, of course. But before Papa opened the door, he said, “Maybe next time we do this, Miss Thompson, it won’t be so cold.”

Next time. He said, next time. And he called me Miss Thompson. As if I were a woman.

I am deliriously happy.

Esther

SEVEN

Karen didn’t want to go to church with Sophia and the others, but at the last moment, she decided anything was better than being stuck at the ranch for another day. Since arriving at the Golden T, she’d had enough inactivity to last her a lifetime.

In Los Angeles, she and her parents had attended a large, prestigious church where one went to see and be seen. Listening to the sermons was optional. Her father had been a master at pressing the flesh, making the acquaintance of people who could be helpful in his business ventures. Her mother had shown an equal expertise at speaking only to those who were socially acceptable, especially mothers of marriageable sons.

It was at that church where Karen had been introduced to Alan Ivie.

Handsome and intelligent, from a good family, a successful attorney with aspirations for political office, Alan was everything Margaret Butler could have wanted in a husband for her daughter. Knowing that, Karen had been prepared to dislike him. But she hadn’t. She’d found they enjoyed many of the same things. Better still, he hadn’t been in a rush to marry, even after they’d become officially engaged. Neither had ever proclaimed their undying love, but in this day and age, who expected that?

Still, it had hurt when Alan broke their engagement shortly after the news leaked about Randolph Butler’s legal troubles.

“It’s a skeleton I can’t afford. Not if I want to run for office,” Alan had told her. “My wife can’t have a criminal for a father. Not even a dead one.”

Prior to leaving California, Karen had heard that Alan was engaged again.

It didn’t take him long to replace me. Only a matter of months.

She closed her eyes, trying to hold off the familiar feeling of despair. She was tired of it. It showed a weakness of character that she despised.

“Here we are,” Sophia announced, drawing Karen’s attention to the present.

She looked out the van window as Dusty turned into the parking lot. Her gaze swept over the church building. It was old and slightly shabby in appearance, although the front was brightened by a border of red and yellow flowers.

What am I doing here?

She considered asking if she could take the van to the nearest mall and return to pick them up when church let out.

Sophia glanced over her shoulder and said, “I’m so glad to have you with us, my dear.”

Karen suppressed a sigh and forced herself to smile at her grandmother. “I’m glad I came too.” Would God strike her dead for lying? she wondered.

Dusty parked the van, then got out and hurried around to help Sophia. The four boys followed. From the look on Hal’s face, he wasn’t happy to be there. Karen couldn’t tell about the others. Except for Billy. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Sophia looped arms with Karen, and they walked toward the
front doors of the church. “What a joy and privilege to be able to introduce you to my friends.”

Once in the narthex, her grandmother proceeded to drag Karen from one person to the next, proudly announcing that Karen was her granddaughter, visiting from California, and wasn’t she pretty and other such things. Karen did her best to smile, say “Nice to meet you,” and sound as if she meant it.

She didn’t, of course. Not really. She had nothing in common with any of these people. In ordinary circumstances, their paths never would have crossed.

The Randolph Butlers had sat in the next to the last pew of their large church. Sophia led Karen to the second row from the front. Dusty and the boys were already seated there.

“I like to be up front where the action is,” Sophia said as she sat down beside Billy, leaving room for Karen next to the center aisle.

I never should have come. Oh, why did I agree to come?

Dusty leaned forward, just enough to catch a surreptitious glimpse of Karen. If she’d looked any more stiff, he’d be afraid rigor mortis had set in. He couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for her. She was obviously miserable.

He recalled Sophia’s words from yesterday:
The worlds you came from are very different, Dusty, but that doesn’t mean her heartaches are any less real than yours or any of our boys.

Sophia could have said a whole lot more to him. She could have pointed out that he wasn’t giving Karen the same consideration Jock had given him or that Dusty, in turn, gave to the boys who came to the Golden T. She could have chastised him for not responding to Karen in a loving, Christian manner. She hadn’t.

Okay, Lord. I see there’s a lesson here for me. Open my eyes so I can see it.

At that moment, Pastor Rollins invited the congregation to stand while he gave the opening prayer. Then the worship team stepped to the microphones, and voices lifted in praise to God filled the sanctuary.

For a time, Dusty forgot everything except the joy he felt in the presence of the Lord.

Karen had never been more uncomfortable in her life than in the past hour and a half. She’d never seen people in church lifting their hands or clapping as they sang song after song after song. She’d never heard anyone say “Amen” as the minister gave his sermon, but several had done so in this service. She’d never been to a church where people welcomed and hugged each other during a time of greeting, their voices raised in laughter.