When Tomorrow Comes (3 page)
Even as she prayed, Christine knew the world had never been fair. Or right. Not since the day Adam and Eve had tasted of the fruit of the garden and turned loose all of the fury and hate and evil of the wicked one. There were always those who fought against him. There had always been those who were willing to pay the price of resistance. True, it wasn’t fair—but it was so. And she—like every other human who had walked the earth—had to make up her own mind as to when and where she was to take her stand.
As her father had predicted, the blizzard soon passed, leaving a world of shimmering white. Huge drifts of snow piled up against the sides of the cabin and blocked the paths to the outside well and the shed that held wood for the fires. The brightness of the sun reflecting off the masses of white crystals made it difficult to face the outdoors without squinting. Christine, bundled warmly at her mother’s insistence, worked against the mounds of snow, clearing a path between buildings and supply sources. It was good to be out. Good to have to use strength and muscle against a force of nature she could actually conquer. Shovelful by shovelful she was winning her own small war. Gradually the inner turmoil was also subsiding, though she knew she was a long way from finding the answer to the conflicts in her heart and mind.
Nearby the dog romped through the drifts, leaping and springing about to send fluffy whiteness spraying out like thick foam. The next moment he lay and rolled, pushing his back and head as deep into the mounds as he could, wriggling and writhing as though to bury himself in its coldness. Christine could not help but laugh at his antics, like a child at play.
The kitchen door opened and framed Elizabeth as she wiped her hands on her apron. She called out, excitement making her voice shrill, “Henry’s on the line.”
Christine was quick to toss aside the shovel, removing mittens and stomping snow from her boots as she reached the doorway.
“Christmas,” Elizabeth was saying as Christine pushed past her. “They’ve decided on Christmas.”
Christine did not bother to pull off her boots. Time on the phone was precious and expensive. She would not keep Henry waiting, paying for minutes that profited nothing. Hurriedly she grasped the receiver. “Hello.”
“Chrissy. Hi. Henry here.”
He needn’t waste his time informing her of what she already knew. But then she wasted time by asking foolishly, “Where are you?”
He chuckled. “Where I’m supposed to be. Why?”
“You sound so . . . so close.”
“It’s often like that after a good storm. Air seems clearer.”
“There’s no crackling at all,” Christine observed further. “I can’t believe—”
“Forget the weather,” Henry interrupted. “I’ve more important things to talk about.”
“Mom said it would be Christmas,” responded Christine, pulling her thoughts in check.
“Christmas.”
“That’s wonderful. But . . . soon.”
“We didn’t want to wait. Saw no reason why we should.
Besides, Danny is anxious—”
“Don’t blame poor little Danny,” teased Christine.
Henry laughed, a joyous sound. Christine had never heard him so happy. She felt a happiness and relief of her own. If Henry was to be married at Christmas, it meant he was not intending to rush off and enlist. He’d not do that to Amber and Danny. Her relief made her feel weak.
“Amber would like to speak with you,” Henry inserted into her whirling thoughts. There was a moment of delay as the receiver was passed along.
“Christine. I wish we could chat in person about our wedding plans instead of hurriedly over the phone,” came the warm voice, “but I’d love to have you as my bridesmaid.Would you?”
Christine felt her heartbeat quicken. “I’d love to.”
“I’m so glad.”
“What . . . what do you wish for me to wear?”
“I’m going to wear a suit. I thought you might like to wear one too. Something you can wear again. You may choose the color. I’m making mine out of a . . . sort of a creamy white.”
“Will Henry be in uniform?”
“Yes. And his attendant.”
“His attendant. Who is that to be?”
“One of his young officers. Laray.”
“So he’ll be in uniform too,” repeated Christine, though that question had already been answered.
“Yes. But don’t worry too much about trying to match the uniform. Pick something you like. That you’ll get use out of later.”
Though it was not spoken, there was the war again. One could not even plan a wedding without taking into consideration that the war might rage on and on, making each purchase, each dollar spent, carefully weighed. Who knew when one might be able to obtain another new suit?
“Thank you,” murmured Christine before Amber expressed her own heartfelt thanks and handed the receiver back to Henry.
“Now—I have another request,” Henry picked up the conversation. “This one might need a bit more consideration. I . . . I do want to take my new bride on a bit of a honeymoon. I was wondering . . . since you aren’t working at present, would you be able to stay down here and care for Danny for a week?”
Christine loved Amber’s little boy dearly, but before she could even work through a possible response, he hurried on. “I don’t need your answer right now. Think about it. We’ll understand if it doesn’t work out. Amber’s folks would be glad to have him, but her mother works, and I’m afraid a rambunctious boy is a bit much for her dad at times. We thought—”
“I’d be glad to stay with him,” Christine said quickly. “It’d be fun.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“It won’t cut into your job?”
Christine laughed. “Henry, I don’t have a job.”
“But you might—”
“Not now. Not with a good excuse to wait. I’ll look for a new job after Christmas. Mother has been trying to keep me anyway.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“You can count on it.”
“Great.”
“Fine.”
She knew he was about to hang up, and yet she wished to hold him for a bit longer. But what could she say? The call already had cost him considerable money.
Reluctantly she was about to say her good-bye when he spoke again.
“Chrissy? How about coming down early? Help Amber with the preparations. Get to know Danny a bit better so he’ll feel more at home. You’d have to batch with me, but I’ve got this extra room.”
“I’d love to,” she responded, anxious that he might change his mind before she could respond.
“Terrific!” He sounded genuinely pleased. “When?”
“I’ll talk to the folks. Let you know.”
“I’m glad, Chrissy,” he said. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Me too,” she responded just before hearing his good-bye. The line began to hum in her ear. Slowly she returned the receiver to the cradle and turned to face her mother. “He wants me to take care of Danny while they are on their honeymoon,” she explained. “He . . . he says for me to come early so I can help with the wedding and get to know Danny better. . . .”
She wasn’t sure just how her mother might react. But she watched as the face before her brightened with pleasure. “That will be nice,” Elizabeth said. “So nice for you and Henry to have this time together before he is married and has a family to care for. That will be so nice. It’s good you haven’t found a job. Then you wouldn’t be able to go. I’m so glad—”
“I’m glad, too, that I’m free to go,” Christine said. “I’ll love having this time with Henry—and little Danny. But I do need to look for work. I’ve procrastinated long enough. You’ve always said that procrastination was right next door to sinfulness. I must shake myself out of the doldrums and get on with life. I must.”
Elizabeth reached out a hand and brushed back a stray wisp of hair that had dislodged itself from Christine’s woolen cap. She nodded. “Right after Christmas and the wedding,” she said. “That will be soon enough.”
Christine thought she read relief in her mother’s eyes.
“So when do you think I should go?” she dared to ask.
“What did Henry suggest?”
“Well, nothing specific. I said I’d talk it over with you and Dad.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll want to be there for too long a time.”
Was her mother backtracking—trying to find a reason to hold her longer?
“It’s the middle of November,” Christine began. “The wedding is little more than a month away. If I am to be of help to Amber, I need to go fairly soon, I’d think.” She found herself feeling a bit defensive.
“We’ll have to get you to Edmonton to catch the train. The roads will be difficult right now after the storm.”
“They’ll clear them out.”
“Yes—but it’ll take a while.”
“Dad will know. He gets the reports.”
“You’re dripping,” Elizabeth pointed to Christine’s wet boots. She wondered if it was a real concern or a means of distraction.
“I’ll wipe it up.”
“No, you go finish your job. I’ll wipe it up.”
Christine pulled her woolen mittens back on and moved to the door. “I think I’ll take the dog for a run as soon as I’ve finished.”
“Isn’t it a bit chilly?”
“It will do us both good.”
Elizabeth did not argue further. “Just make sure you are back in time. Your father likes to eat at twelve-thirty sharp.”
“I’ll be back.”
Christine closed the door firmly and reclaimed her shovel. She had almost finished digging out from the storm. She would not keep her father waiting for the noon meal. In fact, she decided that the walk with Teeko would take her to his office. She would have time to discuss some things that were troubling her as they crunched home through the snow together. There was so much on her mind, and even though she had been sincerely praying for direction, she felt an older, wiser head could give her sound advice.
Her father was just stepping from the small office, fastening his parka firmly about his chin, when Christine and Teeko made their appearance. “This is a nice surprise,” he greeted her, pulling on deerskin gloves. “Couldn’t you stand being cooped up any longer?”
“I didn’t really mind the cooped-up part,” she responded. “I just thought a walk would do us good.”
He nodded and moved down the steps to join her.
“Henry called.”
She had his immediate attention.
“I hate to steal Mother’s thunder. She’ll be so eager to tell you all his news herself.”
He nodded again.
“So don’t ask me about Henry’s wedding plans—okay?”
“Okay.”
“But whenever he plans to be married, he has asked if I will care for Danny while they are on their honeymoon.”
“And will you?”
“I’ve said yes.”
“So that means—unless he is being married today or tomorrow—that you’ll not be looking for a job immediately?”
“Right.”
Wynn nodded.
“He also asked if I’d come early,” Christine added. “Spend some time helping Amber with wedding plans.”
“And you said?”
“I’d be glad to.”
“So—when do you need to leave? Do I have to get out the dog team?”
Christine knew he was teasing. “I said I’d talk with you and Mother.”
For a moment there was only the soft sound of the snow beneath their feet and the occasional bark of Teeko as he imagined something hidden in the snow-draped bushes at the side of the trail.
“But you’re anxious to go?” He had always been able to read her so well.
“Sort of.”
“Then how are we going to get you there?”
“I thought you might have heard reports on the roads.”
“I did,” he nodded. “It is going to take several days to get them clear.”
“How many is several?”
“At least a week, I’d think.”
“Would I be able to go then?”
“Yes, unless another storm hits.”
Christine nodded. There was always the threat of another storm. The very thought made her feel restless. She loved her home. Her parents. But in truth she did chafe at being confined to their small cabin day after day. When she’d been able to work outside during the fall, raking leaves and taking in the garden produce, her days had been full and productive. Now she felt her tasks were done. It was not like it had been when she was a child with a picture book. Neither was she content now to sit by the winter’s fire with patchwork squares in her hands. She needed to be up and out, and it seemed there were few reasons to take her from the warmth of the flaming logs.
“Are you getting anxious to be back in the city?” Her father’s question surprised her.
Christine firmly shook her head. “No. Not the city. In fact, I wish there was some way—something I could do—that I’d never need to go back. I like it out here—in the open. I’d love even to go back up north. I . . . I felt more at home there than any other place I’ve been. I love the North. But it seems that there is very little for a girl—a single girl—to do there. I don’t think I’d be too good on a trapline. I can’t stand to see the poor animals caught. That was the one thing I never did like.” She shuddered at the memory.
“You could become a doctor. They always need doctors.”
“But it takes so long.”
“You could run a Hudson’s Bay post.”
“They are already taken.”
“Teach, then. I expect that the government will soon have schools in all the villages.”
“Dad, I’m not a teacher.”
“String snowshoes?”
Christine realized her father was teasing now. She tossed her head and shot back, “They string their own. Not an Indian worth his salt who can’t string a snowshoe.”
“Guess you’ll just have to make do with the rest of the province, then. Cities, towns, farms. You’ll have to learn to be content.”
Christine cast a sideways glance at the tall form beside her. “I could always marry a Mountie.”
That brought his head around. He looked at her wordlessly to see if she was joshing, then nodded. But he made no reply.
They were nearing the path that led up to the kitchen door. Teeko ran on ahead, ready to meet them on the step. Christine could already see her mother’s outline faintly through the kitchen window where the heat from the morning sun had freed the window of its coat of frost.
“It’s not such a bad idea,” she said softly, pursuing the issue a bit further.
“It’s not a bad idea if you went for the love of the Mountie—not for the love of the North,” responded her father just as softly, using the broom to sweep the snow from her boots before he tackled the snow on his own.
