Whispers from Yesterday (20 page)

She started to cry. Silent tears, streaking her cheeks.

“Let’s go inside, Patty. You look tired.”

“My dad kicked me out. He told me never to come back.”

Dusty clenched his jaw, but he tried to keep his voice neutral. “Come on. It’s hot out here.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gently propelled her forward.

“I … I didn’t know where else to go.” Her words ended in a sob.

He drew her a little closer as they walked. “I’m glad you came. We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

Just before they reached the corner of the front porch, Sophia, Karen, and the three boys rounded the opposite corner. For a moment, Dusty’s gaze met Karen’s. Surprise was the first thing he read in her eyes, followed immediately by empathy and compassion. She left the others and strode forward.

“Patty,” she said softly. She didn’t ask how the girl was or what was wrong. She simply opened her arms and let Patty rush into them. While stroking the girl’s hair with one hand, she looked at Dusty.

He gave his head a slow shake, then tipped it toward the house.

Karen nodded in understanding, and wordlessly, she guided the weeping girl up the porch steps and into the house.

“Boys,” Sophia said, “go wash up for supper. We’ll call you when it’s time to eat.”

Nobody argued.

Even though Dusty’s gaze remained on the front door, he was aware of Sophia’s slow approach, could sense the heaviness of her heart. It matched his own.

“What happened?”

“She said her dad kicked her out of the house and told her not to come back.”

“Oh, Dusty. No.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I’ll have to let him know she’s here. Maybe he’s over being angry.” He met Sophia’s watery blue gaze. “We’d better get inside. Karen isn’t used to dealing with stuff like this.”

“It looked like she was handling it just fine. What more does that little girl need than someone reaching out in love?” Dusty knew she was right.

“Karen’s not the same spoiled rich girl who arrived here two months ago,” Sophia said. “She’s changed.” “You know what I feel for her, don’t you?” “Yes, I know.” “She isn’t a Christian.”

Sophia touched his arm with her fingertips. “Then we’ll have to trust the Lord about that, too. We trust Him for everything else.”

Fury burned in Karen’s chest as she listened to Patty between sobs.

“He … he told me if I … refused again, then he … he’d wash his hands of … of me. But I didn’t … I didn’t want an abortion. I … I don’t think it’s right, and I was … scared.”

Karen wished she could cut out Olen Call’s heart. Only she doubted he had one.

Patty looked up. “I know what I did was wr-wrong. But I … I couldn’t let a doctor kill the baby. It isn’t her fault—this baby’s—what I did.”

Karen heard the floorboards squeak and was relieved to see Dusty and Sophia enter the parlor. Dusty looked at her briefly. Then he crossed the short distance separating them and sat on the sofa next to Patty.

Karen gave the girl a comforting squeeze. “Tell Mr. Stoddard what you told me while I get you a glass of water and a cloth to wash your face.”

“Don’t go!” Patty cried as she grabbed hold of Karen’s hand.

“It’s all right. I’m just going into—”

“I’ll get the water and washcloth,” Sophia interrupted. “You sit still.”

Karen had no other choice. Patty had a death grip on her by this time.

“You tell him,” the girl said in a hoarse whisper. “Please.” Then she hid her face against Karen’s chest and began to weep anew.

Speaking in a low voice, Karen repeated what Patty had told her. When she was finished, they sat in silence until Sophia returned to the parlor. The three adults exchanged glances while Patty wiped her face with the moistened washcloth and sipped water from the glass.

Finally, Dusty spoke. “Patty, I’m going to call your father. He’ll have to know where you are.”

“He won’t care.”

Karen was glad Dusty didn’t try to tell the girl she was wrong. There was no sense in pretending.

“I’ll have to call him anyway. But I don’t want you to be afraid. We’re going to do everything in our power to see that you’re well taken care of. Will you trust me about that?”

Patty nodded.

“And Patty …” He hooked her hair behind her ear, then cupped her chin with his hand. “It took a lot of courage, making the decision not to abort your baby.”

Sophia held out her hand. “I think you should come and lie down for a while, dear child.”

Patty hesitated only a moment, then took the elderly woman’s hand and followed her out of the parlor.

“She’s a baby having a baby,” Karen said softly. “Maybe it would have been better if she’d just gone through—”

“No,” he interrupted. “It wouldn’t.”

She looked at him, “How can you be so sure?”

“God puts great value on every human life. He knew that baby before it was formed. It isn’t the baby’s fault how it was conceived or that its parents are too young. When we take a human life, young or old, we’re playing God.”

“You’re twisting this all around. In case you’re not aware of it, women earned the right to control their own bodies a couple of decades ago. You religious fanatics are all the same, trying to make other people live the way you think they should.”

She’d said it to get a rise out of him. She failed.

“I can’t force anyone to do anything, Karen. I can only try to walk as Jesus walked. He never took a single life during His time on earth. He healed the sick. He gave sight to the blind. He raised the dead. But He never took a life.”

“Even if that’s true, it was two thousand years ago.” She rose from the sofa. “What good does it do Patty?”

“More than you know.”

Karen didn’t hear what was said when Dusty telephoned Olen Call to inform him his daughter was at the Golden T. Whatever was said, it upset him. He scarcely spoke during supper, and he excused himself without eating half the food on his plate. A short while later, those in the kitchen could hear the sounds of wood being split.

He was still at it at nine-thirty that evening when Karen stepped onto the porch.

The sky had clouded over, obscuring the sun as it sank in the west. A cooling breeze swept across the rolling countryside, bringing with it the scent of sage and rain.

Karen crossed her arms over her chest and watched as he worked off his frustration. She was actually glad to see his anger—it made him seem more approachable.

What makes him so different from other men I’ve known?

Dusty leaned his ax against a nearby bench, then picked up the garden hose, turned the faucet, and drank his fill. When he was finished, he bent forward at the waist and held the hose above his head, letting the water drench him.

She couldn’t help smiling as she observed him. There were models and actors in Los Angeles who would sell their souls to look as ruggedly handsome as Dusty looked right then.

Drawn as irresistibly as a moth to a flame, Karen left the porch and strode across the yard. When Dusty straightened and their eyes met, he dropped the hose and turned off the faucet, then used both hands to push his damp hair back from his face.

I’m in love with you, Dusty. Do you find me desirable at all? Do you like me just the least little bit?

Those thoughts tumbled through her mind, but she didn’t say any of them aloud. Instead, she asked, “Care to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready yet.” He reached for his T-shirt and slipped it over his head. “I’m too blasted mad.”

“You can’t chop wood all night long.”

“I might need to.” He looked up at the clouds. “But I guess you’re right. Looks like it’s going to dump rain on me pretty soon.”

“Patty went to bed. I think she’s asleep now.”

“Poor kid. I’ll never understand how a father can reject his daughter like that. No matter what she’s done. No matter how often I see it, I can’t understand it.”

Karen stuffed her fingers into the back pockets of her Levi’s, determined not to think of her own father. “Dusty, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. About religious fanatics.”

“I wasn’t insulted.” He surprised her with a brief smile. “It’s the truth. I’d like to change the world to my way of thinking. If that makes me a fanatic, I guess I’ll accept the moniker.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you,” she muttered, echoing her earlier thought.

“Karen?” He stepped closer. “You were wonderful this afternoon.”

She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. She was too aware of how near he was standing and the way the shadow of a beard darkened his jaw. Would his skin feel rough if she ran her fingertips over his cheek?

“Let’s find out,” he said huskily. “Shall we?”

“Find out what?”

“This.” He lowered his head toward hers. Slowly … Oh, so slowly.

When their lips met, Karen felt a quiver run the length of her. It stole the breath from her lungs and the strength from her knees.

She was no stranger to sexual attraction, but she was a complete neophyte when it came to true matters of the heart. Love changed everything, she realized now. And it frightened her.

Perhaps Dusty sensed her uncertainty, for he broke the kiss and drew back. Not far enough. She could still feel the heat of his body, still see the pulse in his throat.

“I guess that answered that,” he said.

She meant to reply, but it appeared he’d stolen her ability to speak, too.

“It complicates things, Karen.”

“What does?”

“Falling in love.”

He couldn’t possibly be saying he loved her. And she wasn’t ready for him to know she loved him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

Before she could make a huge mistake, she spun on her heel and walked away from him as quickly as her legs would carry her.

Wednesday, May 10, 1939

Dear Diary,

I received a letter from Mama today. Delphia is engaged to Dutch. They are planning a wedding for the Fourth of July. Sam Draker bought a big new tractor, and almost every farmer in the county showed up at the Draker farm the day it was delivered. The church elders have finally hired a new pastor, and he will arrive soon, much to Mama’s relief since she says Elder Trenton’s sermons are dry as toast.

Papa has been talking about selling the farm and moving to Boise in order to be closer to Sophia, Mama said he seems to be tired much of the time, and she fears for his health.

How would I imagine them as living anywhere else than our big old house on the farm? It would be so strange, as if I had lost something. When I am sad and homesick, I can close my eyes and see Mama in the kitchen, preparing one of her wonderful dinners. Or Papa sitting in the corner, smoking his pipe, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scours the newspaper.

Often I wish we could go home to America, but Mikkel is certain this is where God has planted us.

Why that is, I couldn’t say, but here we will remain for now.

Esther

Thursday, June 8, 1939

Dear Diary,

Today Hannah was delivered of a beautiful baby girl, and I was with her when it happened. I had never helped at a birthing before and, while I have given birth myself, had never witnessed the miracle. Oh, praise God in the highest! If ever I had doubted the existence of our Creator, that doubt would have ended in the early hours of this morning.

What promise it holds, to see new life begin.

But the world is troubled, and Mikkel believes darker days are ahead of us. Germany has annexed Czechoslovakia, and Italy has annexed Albania. The threat to neighboring countries is clear, even to someone like me. Anti-Semitism is spreading at an alarming rate as Hitler’s Nazi forces grow and strengthen. There are even some signs of it here in Denmark, although it is an unusual thing for these loving, caring people.

Yet despite all that is happening in the outside world, for this day we have seen the hand of God at work. A child has been born, healthy and squalling. A daughter for Hannah and Isaac. A sister for Ben and Ruth. A beautiful child with a future already foreseen by God.