Marcail took a breath and tried again. “Thank you for your help, but I’ll be okay now.”
You’re not about to let me near you, are you, little one? These were Alex’s very tender thoughts. What he said aloud was much less personal.
“I don’t want to push in where I’m not wanted, but if you’ll let me, I’ll just keep an eye on your woodpile. I won’t come into the house; I’ll just stack it by your porch when it looks like you’re getting low.”
Marcail’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. She did not want to be beholden to this man, but she couldn’t go on as she was. Every day was colder than the day before, and as hard as it was to accept his help, she didn’t really have much choice.
“Thank you” was all Marcail could muster, and then she scolded herself for her rudeness. But the doctor must not have minded. He smiled at her, raised a hand in a small wave, and went on his way.
It would be a long time before Marcail knew that Alex found her delightful, especially when she stood looking very proper and composed, unaware of the strands of hair that hung in her face and the dirt that was smeared on her cheeks and forehead. Delighted, captivated, fascinated—Alex’s emotions ran the gamut, and much to his chagrin, he found he could think about little else.
Marcail was invited to the Austins for dinner again the first Sunday in December. As much as she wanted to, Kay had not had the courage to ask the girls’ teacher to join them the week after the pie auction, and every week to follow. So on this day, she decided to pull out all the stops.
Alex was the first to arrive, and spotting the extra place setting and fancy dinnerware, he turned a curious eye on his hostess.
“Who’s joining us, Kay?”
“Who?” Kay sounded much like an owl.
“Tell him, Kathleen,” her husband commanded as he entered the room.
Kay turned aggressively on both men. “I happen to know that she eats by herself every evening, and I think the least we can do is ask her to join us on the weekends!” Kay stormed back out to the kitchen and left the men to stare at each other.
“I take it the lovely Miss Donovan is joining us today?”
Dean only nodded and watched the younger man. “I’m sorry, Alex, if that’s a problem for you.”
“It’s no problem for me, Dean. I find myself daydreaming about the next time I’ll see her. However, I don’t know how Miss Donovan is going to feel about my being here.”
A moment later they both heard the knock on the front door.
“Well,” Dean spoke again, this time softly, “we’ll know soon enough.”
Marla answered the door and stood grinning at her teacher. Marcail was just as glad to see her because the Austin girls were some of her best students. The fact that they prayed for her gave them a bond she did not share with any of the other children. They were also bright and well behaved, and looked at her with something close to adoration, which was good for any teacher’s confidence.
Daisy joined them as they made their way to the dining room. Even though both girls were talking at once, Marcail didn’t miss the sound of Alex’s well-modulated voice. Surprisingly enough, she did not feel like running away. There was a constant supply of chopped wood next to her door, and Marcail wanted to thank him. Unfortunately her mouth went dry the moment she felt his eyes on her.
“Hello, Miss Donovan,” Kay greeted her warmly. “Come in and make yourself at home.”
Marcail had to clear her throat before any words would come out, and only then was she able to thank her hostess. Dean greeted her, and then Marcail had no choice but to meet the doctor’s eyes.
“Hello, Dr. Montgomery,” she began. “I want to thank you for the firewood.”
“You’re welcome. Has there been ample?”
“Yes, more than enough, thank you.”
Alex had to hide a smile. Such a speech had obviously cost her, and he found the look of profound relief on her face adorable. He realized in an instant that he wanted to court this woman. With Linette, his attention had been welcome; with Marcail, he didn’t know whether he even stood a chance.
Alex had sudden visions of the young men in Santa Rosa, just waiting for her to disembark from the train when she returned for Christmas. He couldn’t believe the wave of jealousy that overwhelmed him at the thought.
“Dinner is ready,” Kay called as she added a soup tureen to the table and everyone gathered around.
Marcail found herself next to Marla and across the table from Daisy. Alex sat on Daisy’s left, and even though Marcail told herself not to, she looked at the young doctor almost constantly.
Her mind ran in two directions. One moment she found herself enjoying his handsome face, dark hair, and blue eyes, but regretting the fact that he was a doctor. The next moment she wished his features were pale and washed out, and that she found him repulsive.
Alex did not miss the way Marcail’s gaze strayed to him repeatedly. He tried to squelch the hope rising within him that she might be interested, but it didn’t work. When Marcail said her goodbyes, Alex did the same so they could leave together.
Marcail was looking uncomfortable all over again as they walked out the front door. But Alex so wanted to be with her that he ignored her look, took a big breath, and asked if he could see her home.
twelve
Marcail’s mouth was dry and her palms were wet. She felt like some type of small prey that was being stalked by a larger animal. She told herself she had no one to blame but herself, as she realized her looking at Dr. Montgomery had given him the wrong impression.
“Why don’t I just rescind that question, Miss Donovan, since I’ve obviously upset you?”
Marcail’s heart broke just a little at the dejected tone in his voice and the look of resignation on his face, but she felt she had to be honest.
“I’m sorry.” Marcail’s voice was soft, and Alex saw very real regret behind her fear.
“Don’t be,” he assured her. “It’s nice to know right up front that my suit would not be acceptable.” He mustered up a gentle smile intended to ease her guilt and went on his way. Marcail stood still until he rounded the house to retrieve his horse and watched as he started toward home.
Alex stretched his stocking feet out in front of him and relaxed back in one of the kitchen chairs. The supper he’d just eaten had been filling enough, but he was feeling a bit empty inside. His Bible lay on the table. He reached for it, but didn’t open it.
“I thought she might be the one, Lord,” he said out loud in the quiet house. “I can’t push in where I’m not wanted, and not until she apologized did I realize how badly I wanted her to want me. I don’t know why I feel this way, Father, but I somehow think that she needs me . . . that we need each other.”
Alex believed that his was the God of all comfort, but the truth was he hurt right then in a way that he’d never hurt before. Losing Linette had given new meaning to the word loneliness, and his hurt over her loss had been very real. But this was different. This was rejection.
Alex opened his Bible to the book of Genesis. It always comforted him to read the account of creation and to marvel again at the perfect, orderly way God had constructed the world. When Alex read in chapter 2, verse 18, that man should not be alone, he stopped to pray.
With a heart honestly seeking to be the man God would have him be, Alex committed his thoughts of Marcail to the Lord. He lay his own desires at the feet of a holy God and prayed that God in His timing and will would provide someone special to share his life. At the moment the only face Alex could see was Marcail’s, but he trusted that God could change his heart and turn this fresh pain into glory for Himself.
Marcail brushed through her hair with long even strokes as she sat on the edge of the bed and thought about Dr. Montgomery. She knew she was being silly, since he couldn’t be nicer, but fears were never logical, and the truth was that she was afraid of him.
Marcail lay in bed thinking of the humble way Alex had accepted her rejection. She wonde
red for a moment if her fear wasn’t causing her to pass up what could be a wonderful relationship. How would she know either way? She fell asleep before she could come to any solid conclusions.
thirteen
Santa Rosa
December 18, 1881
Marcail beamed across the living room at her sister, who mirrored her look as though they alone shared a secret. They were silent for a moment, a relaxed, easy kind of silence that sisters who are also friends can share. Kaitlin was the first to break the spell.
“I can’t believe how good it is to have you here. It’s been so long.”
“That quick hug back in August when the train came through didn’t count.”
“You’re right, it didn’t.”
Again they smiled at each other. Marcail had arrived the day before. Now it was Sunday afternoon, and they’d already been to church and eaten lunch. Little Donovan was napping, and the girls were with their dad at their grandparents’ farm. The house was quiet.
“You look good, Marc. You must be happy.”
“I am. I mean, the job isn’t without its drawbacks, but I really do love it.”
“It’s what you’ve always wanted to do, that’s for certain.”
“The biggest difficulty,” Marcail spoke with a twinkle in her eye, “is that both you and Mother made it look so easy.”
“And you’re finding out different?”
“In a hurry.” Marcail spoke fervently this time.
“Have there been some problems?”
“Yes, but I believe I’m handling them.”
“Why didn’t you write about them?”
“Because I wanted to stand on my own, and if Rigg had known about the one problem, he’d have rushed to Willits. I didn’t want that.”
Kaitlin looked concerned. “Were you in some sort of danger?”
“In a way I was, but the situation is under control now, at least I pray it is.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
Surprisingly, Marcail did. She told her older sister all about Mrs. Duckworth, Sydney, and the town’s refusal to stand up to this family. She half expected Kaitlin to be angry, both at her for not sharing and at Mrs. Duckworth’s manipulation. But instead Kaitlin looked very thoughtful.
“Mother had a problem like that once.”
“She did?” Marcail was astounded.
“Um hm. In Hawaii. You were probably too young to recall. One of the leaders in the village wanted his son schooled, but without the slightest bit of correction. And believe me, this boy needed to be disciplined.”
“How did she handle it?”
“She wouldn’t allow him into the schoolhouse. He ran home to his father, who stormed over to Mother in a fury, but she stood up to him. When he left he took not only his own son, but every child who was related to him by blood or marriage. Half the school was missing.”
“What did Mother do?”
“She taught the children who remained,” Kaitlin stated serenely, obviously agreeing with her mother’s choice of action. “Within a week’s time, all but the one boy were back in school. It took another month before we saw him again, but there was never any trouble after that.”
Marcail was silent as she digested this new picture of her mother. Their situations were not identical, partly because of the position of respect and admiration her parents always held in the villages, but Marcail did see similarities. She wasn’t completely sure she’d have handled it the same way.
True, most of the children had come back within a week, but what if they hadn’t? How long would Mother have let the children go without their schooling before trying to find another solution? It was a question only Theresa Donovan could have answered, and she was no longer there to ask.
“I’m not saying that you should do the same thing, Marc.” Katie’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Please don’t think that. You have to follow your heart. At least you’re able to talk with Sydney and reason with him. Unless I miss my guess, you see him as a mission field.”
She smiled at how easily Katie could read her. Marcail did see Sydney as a freshly plowed field, just waiting for planting, and she prayed every day that God would help her sow the seeds of truth. He was a little boy much in need of a personal relationship with Christ Jesus, and Marcail’s constant prayer was to be used of God to that end.
Donovan cried then, and Katie went to check on him. Once alone, Marcail’s mind wandered to her last day of school and the lovely lace handkerchief Sydney had given her. Most of the children had brought her something, and she was grateful for every gift. But none of the children had sported Sydney’s look, a look that begged her to find him as special as his gift.
Well, he was special, and Marcail took time right then to pray for him as the new year approached. She also prayed that she would return, renewed in spirit and body for the remainder of the year. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she believed it was in God’s hands.
fourteen
The weeks Marcail spent at home for Christmas were some of the best that year. She loved Willits and Visalia, but Santa Rosa had been home for such a long time that it was hard to think of it in any other way.
Free from the cares of the classroom and lessons, Marcail felt like a schoolgirl once again. Her father, thinking she would be in Santa Rosa more often, had brought most of her dresses from Visalia when he came for his Christmas visit. Marcail dressed in her best to go out with friends on drives and to dinner, enjoying the time of her life.
Christmas was like old times, even though everyone was sorry that Sean and Charlotte weren’t able to leave the mission in the Hawaiian Islands to be with them.
The girls loved the dolls their Aunt Marcail had brought, and she was thrilled with their reaction. Marcail herself said she made out like a bandit, with more lovely gifts than she’d ever received before.
It was great fun to sit around and catch up on all the latest news, the most wonderful of which was Rigg’s brother Gilbert’s decision to go into the pastorate. With his gentle manner and love for God’s Word, it was no surprise to Marcail. His mother, May, also told her he’d already met someone special, and it looked like her last son would soon be leaving the nest.
Mr. Parker and his son, Joey, special friends of the family, also filled a part of her time at home. Joey had been in Katie’s class when she first taught in Santa Rosa. He and Marcail were the same age, but the difference between them had been marked. Joey’s father had been drunk whenever the coins in his pocket had allowed, and Joey had been one of the most neglected children Kaitlin had ever encountered.
Kaitlin’s heart had been instantly softened toward this boy and his father. With the help of Rigg’s family, they were brought into the circle of their fellowship.
Joey had come to Christ in a very short time, and the family had watched with awe and praise as he grew stronger in the Lord with each passing month.
Mr. Parker had only recently made a decision for Christ, but their ten years of friendship, years when the family helped him overcome painful obstacles such as illiteracy and alcoholism, had given them a bond that transcended most other relationships.
Joey was a foreman at the feed mill, and Mr. Parker worked part-time for Bill Taylor at the shipping office. They had a comfortable house in town, and Mr. Parker was seeing a lovely widow he’d met at the church. Marcail met her one Sunday and thought she was very special.
It was wonderful just to be back under the solid Bible teaching of Pastor Keller. Marcail couldn’t help but feel saddened when she thought of her Pastor Zimler in Willits and his complacent attitude toward the Word of God.
As difficult as it was to go back to what seemed a spiritual wasteland, Marcail found as the days passed that she could hardly sit still for the thought of returning. She missed her students and her little house so much that she dreamed of them the night before she left. She knew she would miss her family once again, but strangely she found herself thinking of Dr. Montgomery as she board
ed the train for Willits.
fifteen
Marcail couldn’t believe how good it felt to step off the train in Willits. The scenery on the ride north was a little more familiar this time. As the train lumbered its way through the mountains and valleys en route to her home, Marcail reveled in the beauty from the window.
There was a slight pang of loneliness when no one was at the train station to meet her, but then she hadn’t been able to tell Allie exactly when she was scheduled to arrive.
Mentally thanking Rigg and Katie for the new coat she wore, Marcail started her walk home. She felt snug and warm as she pulled the high collar around the back of her head. Her new boots, a gift from her father, were a little stiff at first, but they were already feeling better by the time her house came into view.
Marcail breathed in the crisp, cold air as she walked, and not until she drew near her front porch did she recognize the sound of someone chopping wood. She peeked around the corner of the house to find Alex in shirtsleeves and swinging an ax.
He had come into her thoughts at odd times while in Santa Rosa, and each time Marcail had prayed very specifically about her feelings. If she was very honest with herself—and she usually tried to be—he still made her uncomfortable. But she was also fascinated.
Lost in her thoughts, Marcail stood long enough that Alex eventually noticed her. Marcail watched as he set the ax down, drew a handkerchief from his rear pocket, and came toward her.
“Welcome home,” he said as he wiped the back of his neck. He stopped before her and couldn’t hold the smile that stretched over his face at the very sight of her.
“Thank you. It’s nice to be back.”
Alex’s smile deepened over the sincerity he saw in her eyes. When she had boarded the train to Santa Rosa he had wondered if he would ever see her again. The thought had given him no peace of mind. When she still hadn’t returned on Saturday and school was scheduled to resume on Monday, he became concerned. He purposely left her wood until Sunday in hopes that he would be there when she returned.