A Searching Heart

  Books by Janette Oke

  Return to Harmony*

  ACTS OF FAITH*

  The Centurion’s Wife • The Hidden Flame

  CANADIAN WEST

  When Calls the Heart • When Comes the Spring

  When Breaks the Dawn • When Hope Springs New

  Beyond the Gathering Storm

  When Tomorrow Comes

  LOVE COMES SOFTLY

  Love Comes Softly • Love’s Enduring Promise

  Love’s Long Journey • Love’s Abiding Joy

  Love’s Unending Legacy • Love’s Unfolding Dream

  Love Takes Wing • Love Finds a Home

  A PRAIRIE LEGACY

  The Tender Years • A Searching Heart

  A Quiet Strength • Like Gold Refined

  SEASONS OF THE HEART

  Once Upon a Summer • The Winds of Autumn

  Winter Is Not Forever • Spring’s Gentle Promise

  SONG OF ACADIA*

  The Meeting Place • The Sacred Shore • The Birthright

  The Distant Beacon • The Beloved Land

  WOMEN OF THE WEST

  The Calling of Emily Evans • Julia’s Last Hope

  Roses for Mama • A Woman Named Damaris

  They Called Her Mrs. Doc • The Measure of a Heart

  A Bride for Donnigan • Heart of the Wilderness

  Too Long a Stranger • The Bluebird and the Sparrow

  A Gown of Spanish Lace • Drums of Change

  www.janetteoke.com

  *with Davis Bunn

  © 1998 Janette Oke

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  E-book edition created 2011

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-5855-8721-6

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

  The internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication. They are provided as a resource. Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or permanence.

  Cover by Dan Thornberg

  JANETTE OKE was born in Champion, Alberta, to a Canadian prairie farmer and his wife, and she grew up in a large family full of laughter and love. She is a graduate of Mountain View Bible College in Alberta, where she met her husband, Edward, and they were married in May of 1957. After pastoring churches in Indiana and Canada, the Okes spent some years in Calgary, where Edward served in several positions on college faculties while Janette continued her writing. She has written over four dozen novels for adults and children, and her book sales total nearly thirty million copies.

  The Okes have three sons and one daughter, all married, and are enjoying their dozen grandchildren. Edward and Janette are active in their local church and make their home near Didsbury, Alberta.

  Visit Janette Oke’s Web site at: www.janetteoke.com.

  DEDICATION

  With love and appreciation to

  Vern and Alta Mae (Oke) Hannah

  Brent, Lorna, Jennifer, and Lindsey

  Kevin, Corinne, Jordan, and Emily Carolyn

  Greg, Cheryl, Alexander, and Adam.

  Thank you

  for always making me feel

  welcomed and loved

  as part of the Oke family.

  A Note From the Author

  A number of years ago I took part in an autographing event at The Christian Light Bookstore in Nappanee, Indiana. I looked up to see a tall young man, not more than late-teens or early twenties, before me. Assuming he had been assigned to get an autograph for someone else—maybe his mother, or perhaps a girlfriend—I asked if he wanted me to personalize my signature with a name. “Just put Thomas,” he responded, which caught me by surprise. Then he went on to say quietly, “I guess Love Comes Softly is rather special to me. I, too, lost my mother when I was three years old.”

  So over the years I have thought about Thomas—and prayed for him. I did not even know his last name, and I had no way of reaching out to him but through my prayers. And then I thought of trying to make contact with him again through one of my books. I did that on the dedication page of The Tender Years:

  To Thomas of Nappanee.

  I have no way of knowing if you will ever read this dedication or have the assurance that it was meant for you. The years have passed quickly and you now have reached manhood. Be assured that I often think of you and remember you in prayer.

  You can imagine my thrill when I received a letter that began, “I’m Thomas of Nappanee. I don’t know if I’m the one. . . .” But he was. His letter reintroduced me to a young Mennonite minister with a beautiful wife and five wonderful sons. In a way I feel that I’ve been reunited with family.

  Contents

  chapter 1

  chapter 2

  chapter 3

  chapter 4

  chapter 5

  chapter 6

  chapter 7

  chapter 8

  chapter 9

  chapter 10

  chapter 11

  chapter 12

  chapter 13

  chapter 14

  chapter 15

  chapter 16

  chapter 17

  chapter 18

  chapter 19

  chapter 20

  chapter 21

  CHAPTER 1

  Virginia stepped from the mercantile into bright sunshine and shifted the parcels she carried to divide the load evenly. It was silly, she knew, to be out already purchasing materials for baby things. I’m rushing it. Papa will be giving another well-deserved lecture on impatience, she reluctantly admitted. After all, her sister Clara had only just announced the evening before that she, Virginia, was to become an aunt. But even as Virginia chided herself, she smiled at her indulgence and shrugged. How could one just sit back and do nothing? It would be hard to wait.

  Virginia let her gaze sweep up to enjoy the brightness of the late autumn day. Everything seemed to be right with the world. A few playful clouds floated aimlessly, not obscuring the sun but roaming the heavens on an unhurried mission of discovery. Birds in nearby trees twittered and called. Nest building was past. Even their parenting duties that had kept them busy providing food for searching, noisy bills was over for another year. Young fledglings had been taught to fly and to forage on their own. Soon they would be forced to test those skills on a first migration.

  Fall flowers nodded colorful heads in the stirring air. It could not be called wind—for no wind blew. But still there was a shift of currents, just enough to make the flowers nod and the softly turning leaves whisper.

  It was the kind of day that called for adventure. Virginia felt an unnamed longing to be involved—to go somewhere, discover something, be a part of the world about her in a new and more fascinating way. Perhaps Grandma Marty would have labelled her feelings “the restlessness of youth.” Whatever it was, Virginia yearned for something different, more stimulating, than her day-to-day world. Then her eyes shifted to the parcels she carried. Surely here was all the excitement she needed. A new niece. Or nephew. What did it matter? This new family member, though yet unknown, was already loved and anticipated.

  Though it seemed impossible now, she knew that the intervening months would
pass quickly and Clara’s new baby would be welcomed into the world—her world. Still, it would be hard to wait. So hard to keep the secret that Clara had asked them to keep for a few more months. But she would honor her promise. She would not even write of it in her letter to Jamison, though she half feared she might explode with the effort of silence, particularly with Jamison, whom she told everything.

  ———

  “Oh, my,” commented her mother as Virginia entered the kitchen door. “It looks like you’ve done some shopping.”

  Virginia had hoped no one would be around to observe her impulsive purchases. Not that she felt they were wrong, but because she felt just a bit silly. She nodded now at Belinda’s comment, her face flushing slightly.

  “Going to do some sewing?” her mother went on.

  Virginia nodded.

  “Something special coming up?”

  Again Virginia nodded. It was special, though she was certain her mother expected something quite different in the

  packages she carried.

  “Can I see?”

  They had always shared peeks at new purchases, so it was nothing out of the ordinary for Belinda to be interested in what the parcels contained. Usually Virginia could not have waited to pour the contents out on the kitchen table to display all her girlish choices and watch for her mother’s delighted response. Now she was torn, reluctant to reveal her impatience for the new arrival, yet anxious to share her excitement. Excitement won, and with a new flush to her cheeks, Virginia reached for the first parcel, ripping aside the mercantile’s wrapping to reveal the soft folds of baby flannel.

  She watched as her mother reached out to gently caress the fabric, her eyes misting. That was all the encouragement Virginia needed. Eagerly she tore the wrappings from the other bundles. Out tumbled more materials for baby garments and softly colored yarns for knitting.

  “I thought I was excited,” laughed Belinda, casting a glance at her daughter, then returning to examine the baby items.

  “Oh . . . !” Virginia fairly squealed. “How are we ever going to wait? It will seem forever.”

  Belinda laughed again. “Time will pass much more quickly for us than for Clara,” she assured her. “You will be busy with school, and I have more than enough to fill my days. Yes—time will surely pass much more quickly for us.”

  “But—June? That’s such a long time to wait.”

  “About the time you will be graduating.”

  Virginia stirred. “I had thought graduating would be the most exciting thing to happen,” she said thoughtfully, “but now . . . I think Clara’s baby . . .” She let the sentence go unfinished.

  Belinda reached out and patted her hand. “Time will pass quickly,” she promised again. Then she leaned back in her chair and added somewhat nonchalantly, “By the way, Danny picked up the mail when he was out.”

  Virginia gave a shriek and raced across the room to where a lone envelope lay on the small table by the door. Another letter from Jamison! Even excitement over baby garments suddenly paled in comparison.

  ———

  “ . . . but Jamison doesn’t care much for the new football uniforms. The color—”

  “Jamison, Jamison, Jamison,” Danny exclaimed, clanking his dinner fork on the side of his plate. “All we’ve heard this whole meal is Jamison. Jamison threw two touchdowns. Jamison doesn’t like his sociology teacher. Jamison is first quarterback. Jamison runs laps every day before classes. Jamison wears pink pajamas. Jamison—”

  “He does not,” Virginia cut in sharply, then flushed. “I’ve no idea what color he wears,” she quickly amended, “but I certainly didn’t say he wore pink.”

  “Well, you’ve told us everything else about him.”

  “Danny,” their father, Drew, reprimanded softly.

  “Well, I get tired of hearing about the guy,” Danny insisted.

  “I thought you liked Jamison” was Francine’s comment with little-sister directness.

  “I do. He’s fine. Just great. But do we have to spend all the supper hour talking about him? I mean—how much can you say? So he’s in college. So he’s on the football team. So he doesn’t like his sociology prof but likes his—”

  “I think we all have picked up your message,” said Drew, stopping Danny’s flow of words.

  “It’s true,” spoke the unusually mild Francine. “We hear more about Jamison than we do about Rodney.”

  “Perhaps it’s because Jamison writes,” replied Virginia, a bit miffed over the entire conversation.

  “Rodney writes,” Francine flung back in solid defense of her older brother.

  “But he’s not on the football team,” said Danny with a shuffling of his body and a flip of his head. “And he doesn’t run laps before classes. He studies instead.”

  “Danny,” said his father again.

  Danny’s quick glance toward his father acknowledged the second warning. It would be wise for him to keep his silence.

  Virginia sat quietly, her face flushed, and her breathing quickened as anger washed through her. It was so unfair of Danny to make accusations against Jamison. Of course Jamison studied. He was getting good grades. He did write much more frequently than Rodney, probably because he had a better reason. Perhaps Jamison’s parents didn’t hear from him as often, either. And of course Jamison kept her well informed of all of his college experiences—not just the football games. It was only natural that he share with her his triumphs as well as his feelings about his classes and the professors who taught them. And in a college the size of the one that Jamison attended, wasn’t it normal that some teachers would be more admired than others?

  One by one, Virginia mentally defended Jamison on all Danny’s charges. And Jamison passed each test.

  “I enjoy Virginia sharing the news from Jamison,” Belinda informed the table of five. “I think it’s nice that she includes her family.”

  “But—” began Danny, then dropped his eyes to his plate, wisely leaving the rest of the comment unsaid.

  “I’m pleased he is doing so well,” Drew picked up the conversation. “It’s great for a small-town boy to make the team at a big city college like Webster. It’s quite an honor to be first quarterback.”

  Danny seemed to pull back into his chair. His quick glance around the table told him that he may be the only one tired of hearing about Jamison’s exploits.

  “Speaking of our number one son,” Drew continued, clearing the air by changing the topic, “what would you think of taking a little train ride to see Rodney this weekend?”

  Every eye fastened on Drew, along with a collective holding of breath. Belinda was the first to speak. “Is it possible?”

  Drew smiled. “I checked the train schedules—and yes, it is possible. It’s about a four-hour trip. The train leaves late afternoon around five, so it should get us in to the city around nine.”

  Danny whooped.

  “If we go Friday evening we can spend the night in a hotel, have most of Saturday with Rodney, and come back Saturday night,” Drew finished.

  Another whoop from Danny as Francine clapped her hands, her eyes shining.

  “Is there—would it be possible to stay over for Sunday morning?” Belinda wondered. “I mean, I am . . . well . . . most interested in the church he has written about. I’d love to attend a service with him.”

  Drew nodded again. “If you like,” he agreed. “I hadn’t really considered missing our service here, but I’m sure, under the circumstances, that . . .”

  Danny did not even try to contain himself.

  “And who will look after all your boarders?” Virginia asked him a mite cockily, taking pleasure in getting back at Danny for his digs at Jamison.

  Virginia was referring to Danny’s menagerie of wild creatures he had rescued in one way or another and nursed back to health for release again into their natural habitat.

  But Danny did not even flinch. “The jay is ready to go, and the pigeon is almost as good as new. It might even
be ready by Friday. That will just leave the toad. I don’t think he’s ever going to be well enough to be on his own with his leg like it is. But Rett will look after him. He’s always glad to.”

  Virginia felt a flash of impatience that Rett was such a ready and willing stand-in, but her attention was taken by her mother.

  “I guess I’d better get busy and do some baking,” she was saying, a smile on her face clearly indicating her delight in taking her oldest son some of his favorite things to eat.

  “And I guess I’d better be making a telephone call to let him know our plans,” said Drew.

  “Can’t we surprise him?” Francine asked, clasping her hands together in anticipation.

  “Yeah. Let’s surprise him,” enthused Danny.

  Silently Virginia agreed. It would be so much fun just to walk in and watch Rodney’s eyes nearly pop.

  “That would be fun, but I’m afraid it is too impractical,” Virginia’s very practical father said as he pushed back his chair. “What if he made other plans for the weekend? We’d be left sitting in our hotel room staring at the walls.”

  “I guess,” Francine said reluctantly, disappointment in her voice.

  “Besides,” put in their mother as she also pushed back her chair. “Think of the fun it will be for him, looking forward to our coming.”

  And Virginia knew that her mother would enjoy thinking and planning—and baking—her way through the entire week that lay ahead. She could already see the new glint in her mother’s eyes. She was looking forward to the trip herself— now if only Jamison attended the same college. . . .

  ———

  The train ride that had Virginia and her siblings so excited turned out to be rather a bore. First, they were late getting started. The passengers were boarded—and then just sat. Virginia never did hear the reason for the delay, but it was so difficult to just sit there stiffly in the straight-backed seat and fidget with no clack of the wheels ticking the miles away.

  Danny, the most impatient one of their group, grumbled and shifted and fretted and stirred. Virginia was sure he would have been up pacing the narrow aisle had their father not objected.