A Place Called Home (32 page)

Luke rolled and stretched, his body protesting the idea of getting out of bed. When something tickled his nose, Luke reached up and pulled away a stray hair. He smiled as it just kept coming. He wound the strand from Christine's head around his finger.

It was time, he knew—time to come clean and confess to Christine what he had been holding back. He had been feeling the pain of disobedience in his heart long enough. It was time to talk with his wife and to trust God.

“Oh, Luke, I thought you would be up! I really need to make that bed. I have so much to get done before the party.” Christine spoke as she bustled around the room.

The party for Grandma Em.
Luke had forgotten all about it. “Tomorrow, Lord,” Luke promised; “tomorrow I'll tell her.”

“Luke Cameron, are you going to get out of that bed today?” Christine stood at the foot, her brows raised in question.

“You could come over and help me up.” Luke's voice was gravelly with sleep.

“Do I have your word that you will come out and I won't get pulled in?” At Luke's silence, Christine laughed. “I thought not.” With a flick of her wrist Christine threw back the covers, causing Luke to shiver and leap for the stove.

“You're a cruel woman,” he grumbled as he dressed quickly. But Christine had the bed half made and just ignored him.

When the men came back in from the horses, Christine asked about the road. “I really need to get to town. The storm this week has put me behind schedule. I didn't even get to Grandma Em's this week.”

Silas answered her. “I've got to go in this afternoon. You can go with me.”

“That's fine, Si, thanks. I can have supper almost ready before we go.”

It crossed Luke's mind to tell Christine he would rather she stay inside today. Knowing she would ask why and that he had no reason, he held his tongue.

“You're sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I'll go straight over as soon as I'm done here and ride with them. You go back and I'll see you tonight.”

“Okay, but you be careful.”

“I'll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Silas.”

Christine turned away, but Silas still hesitated at the door of the general store. His business in town had been brief, and he had heard from some buyers and wanted to get home to tell Luke. Christine was to go to Mark and Sue's for a ride home. Silas went ahead out to the sleigh. Christine was a big girl and she would make the two blocks safely.

“Is it almost time?” Emily danced around her mother's legs.

“Almost. I've got to wrap up this cake and bundle up your sister. Don't forget, we have to pick up Grandma Em too.”

“Won't Aunt Christine be surprised that we're coming early to help?”

“I'm sure she will. Now don't forget to say Happy Birthday to Grandma Em when we see her, and don't tell her what's in the box we wrapped.”

“I won't. Is it time to tell Daddy we're ready?”

“Yes, you go ahead and tell him about 15 minutes.”

Emily, always happy to be of help, skipped off toward her father's office.

“Red or blue,” Christine said under her breath. She needed calico for the border of her new quilt and could go with either color.

“Ma'am.” A voice broke through her thoughts.

Christine looked down at the small child standing beside her. She did not remember seeing this child before. Wordlessly, Christine was handed a note and the child ran from the store. She stared after him in some surprise before reading the paper in her hand.

“Christine,” it read, “come immediately to the house. Grandma Em has been hurt.”

The note was unsigned, but Christine was sure it was from Mark. The snow was deep and it hindered Christine's progress as she rushed with a fearful heart. Of all things! Grandma Em injured on her 71st birthday!

Christine quickly climbed the front porch steps and rushed in the front door.

“Gram!” Christine called as she quickly unbuttoned her coat and moved into the parlor.

“By all means, Christine, take off your coat. You're going to be here awhile.”

Christine's movements stilled and she felt her blood run cold. Until that moment she believed she would never hear the voice of Vince Jeffers again.

He was seated on the sofa. Resting beside him on the seat and close on his right was a long, wicked-looking knife.

“Take off your coat, Christine.” This time it was an order, and Christine obeyed. She laid the coat over the nearest chair and looked up to see Vince's eyes moving over her. A leering smile played across his lips and Christine felt dirty beneath his perusal.

“Please, God,” Christine thought, asking for she knew not what, just needing to cry out to her Savior.

“What are you doing here, Vince?” Christine was amazed at how calm her voice sounded.

“I'm surprised you have to ask that, Christine. You didn't actually think I was going to let you get away with all that money, did you?”

“What money?” Christine asked in genuine confusion.

Vince's scornful laugh grated on Christine's nerves. “You're as big a fool as your grandfather was,” he snarled at her as he stood up.

Christine was still completely baffled, and Vince could see this. She watched, horrified, as the snarl on his face became almost a pleasant smile. This man was mad.

“The railroad stocks,” he informed her, as if he were announcing the time of day.

“The railroad stocks? The ones you advised Grandfather to sell because they were worthless?”

“Yes, one and the same. He was a fool. He never even checked on my story—just handed me the papers so I could take care of it.”

“But the stocks are worth something after all?” Christine asked, trying desperately to get some understanding of the
situation while praying constantly for help, helpless as it was. No one knew that Vince Jeffers was here or that she was at Grandma Em's.

“Worth something?” Again that scornful laugh. “They're worth a small fortune, but I can't touch it. By the time I realized I needed your grandfather's signature, he was already dead.”

“No, I didn't kill him,” Vince assured her upon seeing the look on her face. “But it was very nice of him to die when he did. I really am in deep financial trouble, you know.” He stated this so calmly that Christine felt her stomach lurch.

“Do I nauseate you, Christine?” Vince had not missed the look of revulsion on her face, and he approached slowly as he spoke. “That's really a shame, you know.” He was almost next to her. “Because we're going to get to know one another very well.” Christine had backed up flush against the wall and Vince stopped within inches of her. His hand came up to her face and Christine tried to turn into the wall. Vince fed on her fear, and his laugh was a low hiss as sour breath fell on her face. She felt his fingers at the side of her neck. “Yes, Christine, very well indeed.”

“It's Mark,” Silas said from his place at the window.

Luke felt relief wash over him. He had been anxious all day about Christine and couldn't wait to see her.

Grandma Em was the first one in the house. Silas and Luke both hugged her before she could get her coat off, wishing her birthday greetings. Not until Susanne and Emily were inside, and Mark, with the baby in his arms, began to shut the door did Luke ask.

“Where's Christine?” The room became completely still at his question.

“Isn't she here, Luke?” Mark asked.

Silas broke in. “She was supposed to come to your house after she was done in town and ride back here with you.”

“We left a little early. Maybe she missed us,” Grandma Em suggested.

“It wasn't that early,” Mark said, his eyes locked with Luke's.

Luke felt as if the walls were closing in. The feeling of dread and worry that Christine was in trouble had been with him all day, and already it could be too late. He took control just as the MacDonalds walked in the door.

“Silas, take Mac's sleigh and ride for the sheriff. I'll go with Mark. Bring him as fast as you can to Grandma Em's. Mac, stay here. Sue can explain everything.” In a flurry of grabbed coats and hats the three men were out the door.

Luke never would have believed the ride to town could take so long. Mark was whipping the horse into a near frenzy in order to gain speed but the snow was deep and it seemed as though an eternity had passed.

As his stomach churned in fear, Luke allowed himself to imagine that Christine was all right. He pictured her shopping in the general store, ignorant of anyone intending to harm her.

But the image did not last. The sense of foreboding which had rode him hard throughout the day assured him—Christine was in danger. How could he possibly live with himself knowing his own sin had cost him the most precious person in his life.

“Please God,” Luke prayed under his breath as both sleighs nearly flew into town, “please let us be on time.”

“Take your shoes off!” Vince suddenly snapped into Christine's face. When Christine hesitated, again feeling a sickening horror at his change of moods, he picked up the knife. “I've always hated it that you were taller than me.” Christine moved quickly to do as he bade. The low heeled boots made little difference, but he seemed pleased.