Crossing Values (2 page)

“You must stay for dinner. I have a big pot of beef stew that’s been simmerin’ all afternoon. It’s simply too much for the three of us and I won’t have so much left over that we’re forced to eat it all the way to Thanksgiving.” Faye reached for Amber’s hand and Amber reminded herself not to stiffen as Faye gently led her into the house.

“Now what brings you to Crossin’, Amber?” said Faye. “We don’t see many new people stopping through this part of Oregon, you know.”

Faye walked Amber through a kitchen smelling of fresh bread. As they passed a set of circular stairs, Faye guided Amber around an overstuffed leather couch facing a wall of windows. The two women sat down, the spectacular view of the Cascade Mountains dimming in comparison to the blaze in the fireplace to Amber’s right.

Wouldn’t it be nice to sit by that fire! thought Amber.

“I ran into Amber at Micah’s lookin’ for work.” Frank sat down in a matching leather chair to Amber’s right, closest to the fire. “I was thinkin’ she could help out at the office, maybe keep you some company here when Pete and I are down at the mill or in the shop.”

“Oh, wonderful! Have you worked in an office before, dear?” Faye looked at Amber expectantly, pushing up the sleeves on her sweatshirt.

“No.” Amber nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Well, that’s all right. Sometimes the best way to learn is to dive in with both feet. I bet you pick up on most of it quickly. None of it’s really that complicated.”

Amber nodded, then looked down at her hands.

“Do you know anything about logging, Amber?”

She jumped at Peter’s voice. He’d sat down on the arm of the chair to her left.

“No,” she said as she shifted uncomfortably on the lush couch. She eyed the dog sitting quietly on the floor at Peter’s feet.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that,” said Faye. “I didn’t either when Frank brought us out here. Born and raised in the city, I was, and didn’t know a thing about living in the middle of nowhere.”

“I told Amber she could stay upstairs and eat with us too. I figure there’s no sense in her tryin’ to find a place in town when we got plenty here.”

“Oh, Amber! Of course you must stay here.” Faye gently squeezed her hand as Amber forced a smile. “We have a room that’s hardly used, and quite honestly some female company would be nice. You can help me keep the men ’round here in order.”

Frank snorted. “I’ll grant you’ll like the female company plenty. But you, love, need little help in keepin’ the men ’round here in order.” Frank grinned broadly. “Don’t let her fool you one bit, Amber. Most the men ’round here would walk to town in a blizzard if Faye asked it of ’em.”

Amber heard Peter chuckle but he kept quiet.

“Oh, really, Frank. A blizzard?”

Amber looked from Faye to Frank and back again. She noticed Faye’s eyes sparkling in response to Frank’s grin. The banter sounds playful, but . . .

“Very near to it, love. And you know it.”

Faye turned to face Amber again. “Don’t you believe but about every other word he says. Tell you what. Peter, take Amber upstairs and show her where the guest room is. And please make sure there’s plenty of towels in that bathroom. Frank, you go get yourself cleaned up while I finish the biscuits and we’ll all meet at the table for dinner. Okay?”

Chapter 2

PETER LED AMBER UP THE
circular staircase, Sassy keeping beside him. At the top, he turned to the right and opened a door into a spacious bedroom with its own sitting area overlooking the same mountains that could be seen from the couch downstairs. Peter hadn’t entered the room since they’d moved his sister Brittney to Portland. He’d forgotten how the springtime look with purple and white pansies contrasted against the harsh winter scene outside the windows.

Peter set Amber’s backpack down on the bed and turned to look at her. She seemed a bit shell-shocked. Her red flannel shirt accented gold flecks in her brown eyes, but her long brown hair fell lifeless from her side part, showing no trace of the bounce he was used to seeing in Brittney’s auburn hair.

“This was my sister’s room. Hopefully all the purple doesn’t bother you. It’s always been her favorite color.”

“It’s fine.”

Not much more than a whisper, thought Peter. He pointed out the door back toward the stairs they’d just climbed. “The bathroom is that open door right at the top of the stairs. Towels and all are on the shelves by the tub. I normally run before breakfast and shower after, so it’s all yours before 8:00 a.m.”

“Okay.”

“If you need anything, just ask. Mom normally keeps all kinds of things on hand for visitors.”

“Thanks.”

Another one-word sentence. She certainly doesn’t make conversation easy. “Well, I’ll let you get settled.” He took a couple steps toward the door. “Brittney may have left a few clothes in one of the drawers or the closet. She likes to keep some things here in case she needs them when she comes down. Feel free to push them aside. She won’t mind.”

Amber just nodded at him and mumbled something that sounded like “thank you.” Standing motionless just inside the door by the dresser, she wouldn’t quite look at him but was keeping a close watch on Sassy’s movements. Peter called Sassy to him and directed her out the door.

“Do dogs bother you, Amber?”

“Huh?”

“Sass, go find Momma.” Peter watched Sassy look back at Amber then obediently head out the door. He turned in time to see Amber relax slightly. “If dogs bother you, we can keep Sassy away. She tends to follow me, but she can stay downstairs with Mom and Dad if that would make you more comfortable.”

“It’s okay.”

Amber’s face was very expressive, but he’d only seen discomfort, fear, and uncertainty. “Let me know if you change your mind. It’s not a problem to keep her downstairs.”

Her hollow-sounding “okay” stuck with him as he walked downstairs. All her replies sounded empty. Something is wrong here, Lord. Halfway down the stairs, Peter was impressed with a mental picture of a young puppy, whimpering and bleeding. God, are You telling me she’s badly hurt?

: : : : :

“Oh, Amber. Good timin’!” Faye carried a towel-covered basket to the table set for four people.

“Here, Amber.” Peter held out a chair for her near the French doors leading out to a deck swept mostly clean of snow. He watched her glance toward the fireplace then warily eye a reclining Sassy before crossing toward him. As she sat down, he gently pushed her chair forward then walked over to help his mom carry the pot of beef stew from the kitchen.

“Hmmm. Smells great, love!” Frank walked into the dining room and kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Thank you, dear. Amber, do you like ice in your water or would you rather have some juice?”

“Water is fine.”

“I’ll get it, Mom. You sit down.”

“Oh, thank you, Peter.”

Peter filled two glasses with ice water, carrying one to Amber before sitting across from her with his own.

“Okay, let’s thank God for this,” Frank said, bowing his head and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Thank You, Father, for the food You’ve giv’n us and for the added blessing of a new friend. Help us be the blessing You mean us to be and let us enjoy each other in the time we have. Amen.”

Peter grabbed the bowl of salad and piled some on his plate before passing it to his mom.

“Where are you from, Amber?” Faye asked as she passed biscuits around.

“California.”

“Does your family live down there?”

Amber shrugged in response to Faye’s question. “I don’t know.”

Peter stopped mid-bite and looked earnestly at Amber. She doesn’t know if her family lives in California? His mind reeled. He watched as Amber pulled off a small piece of her biscuit and dipped it into her stew.

Peter met his mother’s eyes then glanced at his father. This conversation needs a new direction. Quickly. “How was Micah today, Dad?”

Peter watched Amber close her eyes and breathe deeply.

“Makin’ it through.”

“Peter, will you please hand me the honey?” said Faye.

“He’s havin’ a tough time, ’course, but he’s still openin’ up the store every day,” said Frank.

“Did you mention coming out to dinner to him?” asked Faye.

“Yeah. He said maybe in a couple weeks. Oops.” Some beef stew dropped onto the red tablecloth embroidered with white snowflakes. “Sorry ’bout that, love. Micah said he’d call the office when the saw blades are in. You can prob’ly corner him into a day then.” Frank winked lovingly at his wife.

Peter knew that Faye could talk anyone into dinner when she set her mind to it. Micah would be over to eat at least once before Christmas, if not for Thanksgiving as well.

Amber’s probably lost in all this local talk. “Micah lost his wife this past summer,” Peter said to her. “The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas were her favorite time of year, so Mom’s worried Micah is taking the season hard.”

Amber nodded in acknowledgement but remained silent.

“Well, he’s not called about a tree and Allie said he hardly leaves the house except to go to the store.”

Peter continued gently. “Yes, Mom, I know. But I think Micah’s entitled to a bit of a hard Christmas. Imagine how different this year must be for him.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to leave him sitting at home every night, Peter. He can mourn his loss, but we can’t let him sit and mope all Christmas. God is still good, even when He takes things we love away.”

Peter ate silently for a few moments. I understand what Mom’s saying, God, but would I act any different from Micah? How long would it take me to move on? How do you show hope in the eternal in the midst of the pain of the temporal?

“Speakin’ of God’s goodness, did you hear that Chad and Amy are expectin’ again?”

“Oh, Frank! How wonderful! When did you find out?”

“Chad stopped me before I headed into town earlier. Hand me another biscuit, son.”

Peter held the basket out to his dad. He started to offer one to Amber when he noticed she still had about half of a biscuit. She took a tentative bite of stew from her half-full bowl.

“Hmm. These have to be the finest biscuits you’ve made in a while, love.” Frank ripped his bread into pieces and added it to his stew. “Chad said Amy’s been a might ill. And little Joshua’s caught himself the flu.”

“Oh, goodness. I’ll make a batch of chicken noodle soup for them. Peter, will you have time to deliver it to them tomorrow if I get it done first thing in the morning?”

Peter thought about his schedule while chewing. Fridays were normally pretty light for him, but with Thanksgiving the next week and trees needed on the Christmas tree lot the day after, his days were busier. “I’ll be heading into Portland tomorrow night. I’ll leave here around 5:00 and I can drop it off on my way. Will that be soon enough?”

“I’ll call Amy and let her know to expect you,” said Faye. “Are you going to be late tomorrow?”

Peter rinsed down a bite with a gulp of water and considered his mom’s question. He knew she didn’t particularly care for his weekly trips to the city but she tried hard not to interfere. “I don’t think I’ll be too late, Mom. Stephanie and I have a dinner reservation at the restaurant in her building at 6:30 but no plans after that.”

“Well, tell her we said hello when you see her. I expect she’s got plans for Thanksgiving next week.”

“Yeah. She’s committed to working at the parade in the morning, then a benefit later that night. It sounded like she’d be pretty well tied up all day.”

“Did ya mention the party in December to her?” said Frank.

“Yeah, Dad. She said she’d check her schedule but I’m pretty sure she’s coming.” Why does it always feel like I’m making excuses for her?

“Are you going to have a chance to see your sister before next week?” said Frank.

“I don’t think so, Dad. What do you need Brittney for?”

“Just lookin’ for some ice cream for Thanksgivin’ is all.”

Faye put her napkin down and looked at her husband. “Frank, really. Don’t bother Brittney. I can get some at the grocery store.”

“It’s not the good stuff,” said Frank.

“It’s the same brand,” said Faye.

Frank grunted as he wiped his bowl with a piece of biscuit.

Faye scooted her chair back and stood, grabbing her dishes and walking toward the sink.

Peter followed his mom to the sink with his own dishes. “I can drive by the creamery tomorrow, Dad, but I think they’ll be closed.”

“Don’t worry about it, son.” His eyes twinkled as he looked across the room at Faye. “I’m sure I can survive on whatever your mom brings home.”

Peter chuckled. His dad’s wink told him that Brittney would be getting a phone call before Thursday. “How ’bout I get some more wood brought in, then we finish up that game of chess from last night?”

“Sounds good. I think I figured me a way to get you on the defense.”

Peter chuckled. As he called Sassy to his side and headed to the mudroom he said, “All right. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Chapter 3

AFTER DINNER, AMBER SAT NEAR
the hearth and soaked up the fire’s heat, struggling to remain awake as she listened to the conversation. Still full from the bit of stew she’d managed to eat, she’d turned down Faye’s steaming blueberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. Peter and Frank played chess for about an hour before Faye caught Amber nodding off and sent her to bed.

She gratefully said goodnight to the family and made her way upstairs. As she entered her room, she found the bedside light turned on, the bed covers neatly turned down, and a book on her pillow. A note attached to the front of the book said,

Just in case you like to read.

We’re glad you’re here, Amber.

Faye

Amber removed the note and looked at the front cover. Two Minute Devotions? Great. Just what I need. All my problems solved in two minutes or less. She tossed the book onto the bedside table.

: : : : :

The next morning Amber glimpsed how important religion was to them. Behind the circular staircase was a room filled with bookshelves. Amber had never before seen so many books in one home. She cautiously approached the area, getting close enough to scan the titles and authors. Some names she recognized, like Billy Graham. One whole shelf of different Bibles? Why would three people want so many Bibles?