A Place Called Home (11 page)

“You haven't stopped smiling since you got back.” Silas' voice broke through Luke's concentration.

Luke did not bother to deny it. His grin just widened and his eyes once again swept over the acres he called home—the same acres in fact that his father, Joseph Cameron Jr., called home, as well as his mother's father, Charles Langley, before him.

Supper over and the dishes done, Luke and Silas were settled on the back porch. The silence they shared was comfortable, each letting the peace and serenity of the evening settle around him.

Sunday mornings brought extra work, with Grandma Em's chores to be done as well as all their own stock to feed, so Saturday evening was usually spent relaxing and then retiring to bed early.

Luke broke the silence with a question that told Silas what had been on his mind. “Si, has Christine been going to church with you and Gram?”

“Yes.”

Luke merely nodded and left Silas to ponder on what had brought this up. He would have been surprised if he had been able to read Luke's mind, since his question had been nothing more than a passing thought, not centered on Christine, but on going to church and the day he had attended services with Caroline.

Luke remembered a time in his life when, in his teen years, church had not been one of his favorite places. Caroline, he had to admit, seemed more interested in him than in the sermon. He couldn't help but feel a bit flattered until he remembered how easily the minister had made it to think of anything besides the sermon. He was still praying about writing her, his heart still very unsure of his feelings for her. He also prayed he would not feel desperate—that his wanting a wife so badly wouldn't cloud his mind and make him forget that God's will was more important than his own. Once again, as Luke surrendered his will to God's a peace settled over his troubled heart. He knew without a doubt that if God had a wife for him and he left the choosing in His hands, everything would be perfect.

In town Grandma Em and Christine were also finished with supper. Settled in the parlor, Christine picked up some mending and Grandma Em chose a book. Grandma Em had held her tongue all evening even though she could tell something was bothering Christine. After pretending to read for a full five minutes, she gave up and plunged in.

“Christine, you seem a bit quiet this evening. I hope you're not coming down with something.”

“No, Grandma Em, I'm fine.” They both knew this wasn't true.

Grandma Em plunged in again, praying she wasn't being too pushy. “Was the letter you received today from home?”

“Yes.” Grandma Em watched an expression she couldn't quite define pass over Christine's face.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Grandma Em was surprised when Christine didn't even hesitate.

“It's rather complicated, Grandma Em. You see, I didn't leave Spooner under the best of circumstances. Being here, working and getting drawn into your family a little more each week, sometimes causes me to forget that there are things at home that need to be settled.” Christine paused here, and the emotion on her face became clear to Emily. Fear! Christine searched Grandma Em's face intently before continuing hesitantly. “The woman who wrote me, a woman I trust, advised me to stay here for the time being…and, well, we've never discussed how long you need me. If this is a temporary arrangement or…” her voice trailed off.

Grandma Em's eyes flooded with tears. When she could speak, her voice was very soft. “Were it in my power, Christine, I would keep you here with me for the rest of my life.”

Christine flew into the arms of the older woman.

Christine clung to Emily as great sobs racked her young body and Emily's own tears ran silently down her cheeks. Christine's tears seemed to exhaust her, and so, with a final hug for Grandma Em and a hoarse “thank you,” she took the stairs to bed.

Once in bed, exhausted as she was, Christine could not keep her mind off the letter from Mrs. Hall. Even as sleep claimed her, snatches of the letter returned. “Carl Maxwell is missing. Talk to no one. The sheriff is looking into things. Stay where you are. I repeat, talk to no one.”

“You mean to tell me you've been gone all this time, only to return and tell me the job isn't done? How long does it take to kill one woman?” Vince Jeffers' face was mottled with rage. The veins in his neck stood out like cords.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Jeffers, sir, but no one has seen a girl of that description, and the only Mr. Franklin in town somebody said was killed by a runaway horse a few weeks back.”

Vince Jeffers was so angry he wanted to strike the man. He stood behind his desk, a heavy glass paperweight clenched in his hand.

Finally he spoke through gritted teeth. “Get out! I need time to think, and don't you dare show your face around me until I send for you!”

The man needed no further prodding. He bolted for the door, nearly frightened out of his wits by his employer's rage. The sound of shattering glass echoed in his ears as he made good his escape.

Emily sat on the side of her bed feeling every day of her 70 years. Last night had been awful. She had gone to bed feeling very good about being able to reassure Christine of her job and a place to live, only to be wakened sometime near midnight by her screams.

By the time Emily got to Christine's room, she had stopped screaming. Emily found her sitting up in bed, her eyes glazed over and soaked with perspiration. Grandma Em lit the lamp and took Christine's hand, holding it gently until she noticed her presence.

“He was trying to kill you.” Christine's voice was a dry whisper.

“Who was, dear?”

“Vince Jeffers. He had stabbed Mrs. Hall and was going after you. I couldn't stop him.” Her voice broke.

“A dream, Christine; it was just a dream. I'm safe and you're safe. It's all right now.” Grandma Em rose and brought a damp cloth to bathe Christine's face. She helped her into a fresh nightgown, all the time talking in a calm, reassuring voice. When Christine settled back in bed, Grandma Em blew out the light and once again took her hand. In a quiet, clear, trusting voice she began to pray. “Dear heavenly Father, please cover her with Your loving comfort. Help her to relax and sleep. Help her to forget her fear and trust You to watch over her this night. Thank
You, God, for giving Christine to us. Help me to be here for her and to comfort her in any way I can. Thank You, God. Amen.”

Christine's eyes had closed. Emily's hand reached to smooth her brow. Her heart filled with anguish over this young woman's pain. Emily sat with her for a while before making her way back to her own bed. Sleep did not come until nearly dawn.

With all these thoughts going through Grandma Em's mind, she was shocked to find Christine up ahead of her with coffee on and breakfast started.

“Christine, I'm surprised you're up. When I didn't hear you moving around in your room, I assumed you were getting some extra rest.”

“I was awake and I just got up.” Christine's smile was meant to reassure Grandma Em, but she wasn't fooled.

They worked for a few minutes in silence until Christine spoke. “I feel rather foolish for waking you last night. I've never done anything like that before. I'm sorry.”

“Christine, there is no reason to apologize. It's not as if you planned to have a bad dream that scared you senseless.” Grandma Em chided her a bit sternly. And then more gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The back door opened at that moment, keeping Christine from answering. Grandma Em sent her a look of apology for the interruption and then went to greet her grandsons.

Forgetting that Luke was also a regular guest on Sunday morning, she turned to add more eggs to the pan. Christine no longer felt embarrassed about their first meeting. She realized over the past week that these things just happen.

No, her thoughts this morning were not on Luke, but Mark. She had lain awake most of the night and after much thought had decided to talk with Mark. So far the sheriff had not talked to her, and frankly, she preferred it that way. She much preferred
confiding in Mark and letting him decide if and when to talk with the sheriff.

Christine, her thoughts so intense, hadn't realized that Grandma Em had taken Silas into the parlor to show him some new sheet music. Luke sat down silently at the table to await the coffee.

Christine bustled around and finally moved to the table to pour coffee. Not until she was nearly on top of Luke did she realize he was there. Having those startling blue eyes leveled so intently on her face caused Christine's hand to shake, splashing some coffee on Luke's leg. Luke was on his feet in an instant and reaching for a napkin.

Christine stood, the pot now upright, a trembling hand pressed to her mouth in horror. “I'm sorry—are you burned, are you hurt? How clumsy of me! I didn't see you, I'm sorry.” The words tumbled out and Christine turned to replace the pot and get a damp cloth.

Luke wondered, as she did, if it was at all safe to be around this woman. He couldn't quite squelch the irritation he felt at having his Sunday pants stained. It was either wear them as they were or go all the way home and change.

Christine returned and handed Luke a wet cloth, seeing as she did that his napkin had been of little help. Not until Luke returned the cloth to her did he see the tears standing in her wide, green eyes. He couldn't have known that lost sleep and worry had brought them on and not just the spilled coffee. Upon seeing them, Luke's irritation drained away.

“I'm sorry, are you burned?”

“No, just a bit damp.” He smiled and indicated his pants, hoping she would believe him.

When she just stood there, blushing and looking miserable, he tried again. “Honestly, Christine, I'm not burned; I'm fine, really.”

She stared at him a moment more and then with a little nod turned back to the stove, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Luke thought that for as tall as she was, such a childlike gesture made her look like a lost little girl. He felt sorry for her and hoped she hadn't seen any of his earlier irritation.

When Grandma Em and Silas returned, they all sat down to breakfast. All three of the Camerons noticed Christine pushing her food around her plate. Grandma Em and Luke felt sure they knew why. Silas just felt concern for her.