When Tomorrow Comes Read online

  “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.

  Christine had no reply.

  “I suppose Christine told you the news,” Elizabeth quizzed as soon as the two of them entered the kitchen.

  “She said Henry called. She wouldn’t tell me about wedding plans. She said you’d want to do that.”

  Elizabeth looked surprised but pleased. “It’s to be at Christmas.”

  “This Christmas?”

  Christine knew her father would have known which Christmas. He just wanted his wife to have the fun of informing him.

  Elizabeth chuckled now. “Of course this Christmas.”

  “From my observations about weddings,”Wynn noted with a raised eyebrow, “doesn’t seem to give much time to get ready for it.”

  “They don’t want to wait. Henry says it took them so long to finally come to an understanding that they don’t want to waste any more time. So they have decided to get married on Christmas Eve.”

  “Well, that sounds good. Hope the storms hold off so we can make it.”

  Elizabeth looked dismayed at the very thought of missing her only son’s wedding.

  “I talked to Mary this morning,” Elizabeth said quickly. “She suggested that we come a bit early and spend a few days with them. Then travel on down together.”

  “That would be nice,” agreed Wynn, slipping out of his heavy jacket and placing it on the peg by the door.

  “Christine has been invited to go early. Henry wants her to give Amber a hand.”

  Wynn had already heard most of it before, but he showed interest in the plans. “Good idea. I’m sure Amber will be busy. Running a business doesn’t leave much time for fancy preparations.”

  “Oh, I don’t think the wedding will be too fancy. The boys will be in dress uniform, and Amber plans to wear a suit. She had a formal gown at her first wedding. One gets more practical the second time round, she said. Especially with a war on.”

  Christine turned from the conversation to remove her heavy boots and place them on the thick rug by the door.

  Elizabeth went to the stove to spoon the stew into the serving bowl. “Christine, could you get the biscuits from the oven, please? I’ve set the plate for them in the warming oven.”

  Christine washed her hands at the corner basin, handed the towel on to her father when she was finished with it, and reached for the oven mitt. The biscuits smelled wonderful. She suddenly realized just how hungry she had become. Exercise and fresh air had a wonderful effect on one’s appetite. Even Teeko had his nose in his food dish and was hungrily devouring the contents.

  CHAPTER

  Three

  The next morning Wynn sprang the unexpected proposal on the two women. “Why don’t you travel down together?”

  “Together?” Elizabeth sounded as surprised as Christine felt.

  “Henry has asked Christine to come early. Mary has invited you.”

  “Us,” corrected Elizabeth. “Mary has invited us.”

  “Us. But I can’t leave as early as you can. Like you two were saying, you need to get to the city and choose some material for Christine’s wedding suit and get it sewed up. You can do that. Spend a few days in Calgary getting all that going; then Christine can go on down to Henry’s and you can relax and spend some time with Jon and Mary until I get down there.”

  Elizabeth and Christine both listened carefully to the logic of his idea.

  “Do you think we could?” Christine asked her mother.

  “I hate to leave your father for such a long time. I don’t see how—”
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  “Nonsense. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself for a couple of weeks.”

  “It would be more than a couple weeks if we were to leave very soon.”

  “A month. I’m quite able to manage on my own for a month.”

  “But I—”

  “Oh, let’s do it, Mom,” Christine exclaimed. “It would be so much fun. We could shop and visit and maybe even take in a concert or something.”

  “For a girl who doesn’t like the city, you sure seem to be able to come up with things to do there,” Wynn teased.

  Christine flushed. She had not planned to act so enthused.

  “When would we leave?” Elizabeth seemed to be warming to the idea.

  “The end of the month, I would think,” Wynn suggested. “I could join you a few days before Christmas, and we’ll stay on until the new year. That’ll give you a full month away.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Elizabeth began again. “The roads can be so iffy this time of year.”

  “You’re going to have to travel over them one time or another if you are going to be at Henry’s wedding,” Wynn reminded her.

  “I suppose I—”

  “Of course you can.”

  Christine felt like tossing her hat in the air had she been wearing one. It would be good to do something different. To stir about instead of being confined with not much to do day after day.

  From then on their days were taken with plans and preparations for their departure. It seemed to Christine that Elizabeth spent an unreasonable amount of time baking and cooking and laying in store all manner of things for Wynn to eat while on his own. “Mama, he will never be able to eat his way through all of this,” she chided from time to time, but her words did nothing to slow Elizabeth down. More and more tins and pails and containers were carried out to the “back kitchen,” as Elizabeth called the small room behind the cabin. In winter months everything placed in the back kitchen was frozen solid in a matter of minutes. It was perfect for storing items that needed freezing, but no good at all for use as simply a cold room. Now Elizabeth prepared meals by portion sizes and placed them in containers where warmth-seeking mice or marauding squirrels could not get to them. Wynn had only to draw one out, thaw it, and heat it for dinner. Everything was labeled with careful instructions. “Remove from back kitchen three hours before needed.” Or, “Heat in open kettle until simmering,” or “Be sure to remove wrapping before placing in hot oven.”

  Christine often smiled, but she said nothing. She knew her mother had to be assured that her father would be well fed in her absence.

  At long last the cooking and baking were finished, and Elizabeth turned her attention to the journey. “Do you think I should wear my gray suit or the navy?”

  “On the train?”

  “Oh no. I’ll wear the brown on the train. To the wedding?”

  “You won’t get a new one?”

  “Me? My, no. I hadn’t even thought of that. There is nothing wrong with the gray—or the navy. Either would be perfectly suitable.”

  Christine nodded. Either would be suitable.

  “Why don’t you take them both along and then decide once you’re in Calgary,” she suggested.

  “But I hate to pack both.”

  “You may need both.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Well—if we go out on occasion. To dinner—or a concert. Then there is church each Sunday. Do you want to have just one thing to wear the entire time?”

  “No. No, I guess not. But it does seem rather extravagant to take two for such a short time.”

  It was a reminder to Christine of how long it had been since her mother had visited the city.

  “What else do you plan to take?” she asked instead of arguing further.

  “My black skirt and the navy stripe and a mix of blouses and my cardigan. Then I thought I would take my crepe dress. My newer one.”

  Christine nodded. Elizabeth’s “newer” crepe was already four years old.

  “That sounds fine,” she responded. “But I do think you might wish to have both suits.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Elizabeth still sounded reluctant.

  The day finally arrived when they were going to Edmonton to catch the southbound train. Christine had been very aware that her mother’s eyes had been on the skies for the past days. Like Christine herself, she knew what another winter storm could easily do to their plans. But though an occasional snowfall came their way, it was never enough to delay their departure. The wind did not blow hard enough to send more than shivering snow mists scurrying about the yard.

  Elizabeth’s last moments at home were spent informing Wynn of where to find what and how to cope with the contrary kitchen stove. “The oven gauge does not work properly,” she informed him. “So don’t count on it. It must register five hundred degrees if you wish the heat to be at three-fifty.”

  “I’ll manage just fine,” Wynn patiently assured her once more. “There’s enough food to last me into the summer, and I thank you for each delicious morsel. By the time that wedding comes, I won’t be able to get into my dress uniform.”

  “Pawsh,” retorted Elizabeth. Wynn had never gained a pound in all their years of marriage. It was she who had to watch her weight.

  After good-bye hugs and kisses and plenty of promises, they were tucked into the cab of the truck beside the driver, who was making his regular trip to Edmonton and often welcomed passengers. Elizabeth craned her neck to watch as they pulled away, and she waved one last time just as the truck turned the corner onto the highway. Christine fervently hoped that her mother would not become teary eyed.

  But once they were on their way, she straightened her back, smoothed one black-gloved hand with the other, and turned to Christine with a smile. “It’s rather an adventure, isn’t it?”

  Christine nodded.

  “We’ll stay overnight at that Edmonton hotel.”

  “The King Edward?”

  “Yes. The King Edward. Your father has made all the arrangements.”

  Christine nodded again.

  “I haven’t stayed in a hotel for I don’t know how long.”

  “Have you missed it?”

  “Missed it? Of course not.” Elizabeth paused a moment. “Still . . . it will be rather nice.”

  Mr. Carter shifted the lumbering truck into first gear.

  “You know what I look forward to the most?” Elizabeth whispered to Christine.

  Christine cast a sideways glance at her mother, whose eyes were shining with excitement over some anticipated pleasure. “The dining room? Eating something you haven’t needed to cook?”

  “That will be nice, I admit. I think I’ll order something totally—exotic.” Elizabeth was smiling now. Just thinking ahead to the adventure was becoming fun.

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a beef steak.”

  “Mother, that’s not very exotic,” Christine laughed.

  “Well, it will be a change from moose and elk and venison. It’ll taste quite exotic to me.” Elizabeth seemed to muse over the possibilities. “Maybe I’ll even order turkey . . . or oysters. Oysters—that’s it. It’s been ages and ages since I’ve had oysters.” Elizabeth appeared pleased with her choice.

  “But what I am really looking forward to is the deep bath— where you can stretch right out in the tub and just soak and soak in all that wondrous warm water. If it starts to get cold, you just let a little out and run some more in. Oh, I can hardly wait.”

  “And what am I to do while you are spending your hours in the tub?” Christine asked.

  “Whatever you like.”

  Christine laughed. It was going to be fun. She was so glad her father had suggested it.

  Their driver delivered them directly to the hotel and handed their luggage to the navy-coated attendant, who greeted them with a bow and a smile. “Welcome to the King Edward. Right this way, ladies,” he said with just a bit too much enthusiasm.

 
He insisted on hovering over their two suitcases as Elizabeth penned her name in the register, and then he was leading them once again. Their room was on the fifth floor, and Christine would have liked to walk up the richly carpeted stairway just to check out all the halls on the way. But the man ushered them to an elevator and waved them inside.

  “So what brings you to the city? Christmas shopping?” His eyes were on Christine, but his words seemed to be directed toward Elizabeth. Christine thought it a bit forward of him to ask their business.

  But Elizabeth answered without reserve, “We’re only stopping for the night here. We travel on to Calgary tomorrow. We have family there. We’ll spend some time with them before going on to my son’s wedding.”

  Really, Mother, fretted Christine. He has no reason to know our whole history.

  “That’s nice,” the young man responded, but his eyes still had not left Christine’s face. She found herself flushing. What right did he have to study her so openly?

  “Only tonight?” This time he was definitely speaking to Christine. “I’m off in an hour if you’d like to take in a show . . . or something.”

  Christine could not believe his nerve. She did not even deign to answer. Just gave him a glance of dismissal.

  He shrugged. She assumed he had been turned down before.

  The elevator bumped gently to a stop, and the door opened, allowing their escape. The young man managed to jingle their room keys in hands filled with luggage. He soon opened their door and, with a wave of a practiced hand, bid them enter.

  “The dining room is on the first floor to the left. Dinner is served from five to eight each evening. They will begin serving breakfast in the morning at six. The lunch hour—”

  “We will not be here for the lunch hour,” Elizabeth stopped him. “Thank you for . . . for seeing us to our room.” She dropped coins into his gloved hand and took possession of the open door. He bowed his way out, and she closed the door as soon as she could.

  “Cheeky young rascal, isn’t he?” she said as she turned back to Christine. “Imagine him asking you out when you don’t even know him.”

  Christine shook her head and crossed the room to lay her coat on a chair. “Well,” she joked, “I guess it would have been one way to put in some time while you’re lounging in the tub for the evening.”