When Tomorrow Comes Page 6

  Henry nodded, his face serious.

  “There are a lot of them in that circumstance, I’m afraid. Marching off to war with no hope should they die in the trenches. It’s scary.”

  “Calgary was full of them. Everywhere you looked—uniforms.”

  “I know. I saw them when I drove in.”

  The wind had indeed picked up. Snow scurried across the road ahead of them in wavy shivers. Henry held the wheel firmly to keep the car headed straight.

  “Have you—did you ever think about—I mean, did you ever have any thoughts about enlisting?” Christine finally found courage to ask.

  “Many thoughts. And doubts. And struggles.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. I don’t remember wrestling in prayer as much over any other matter.”

  Christine could feel her throat constrict. “Have you decided? You’re not going—are you?”

  “I planned to. I even drove in to headquarters to hand in my resignation to the Force. But I was talked out of it.”

  “Talked out of it? Amber?”

  “No—not Amber. We had talked it over—many times, actually—and she knew it had to be my decision. No, it was my superiors. They said there are two jobs to be done in wartime. Some need to go. But there is also a job that needs to continue being done at home—to keep stability. To hold things together so those who have gone will have something to come back to. We need a strong, secure base. Our boys need that.”

  Christine let her breath out slowly. Henry would not be going off to war.

  “So you are—you feel at peace about it all now?”

  “I do. Oh, it wasn’t just the conversations. It was a scripture I read when I was searching for the answer. It seemed to speak to me directly. It talked about ‘staying by the stuff.’ I realized that was an important part of the job too. It’s not a case of copping out. Not when you take your duties seriously.”

  “Amber must be relieved.”

  Henry smiled. “She is. But she would have let me go if it had turned out that way. She said that God must govern my life—not a wife.”

  Christine remained silent. That was something else to think about.

  They were thankful to climb from the car in front of Henry’s small house. The roads had gotten increasingly difficult. The last few miles of drifts caused concern, though Henry tried not to let on. He only had to get out the shovel once, but Christine felt that was once too often.

  The first thing Henry did was to phone Amber. “We’re here—safe and sound. No . . . no, they weren’t too bad. A little tricky in spots. Is Danny sleeping? Give him a kiss for me. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll drop by the shop. And I’ll bring Christine over later. Okay. Right. Sleep tight. Me too.”

  Christine wondered what else would have been said had she not been waiting, suitcase in hand.

  “She says to give you her love.” Henry turned from the phone and took the suitcase from Christine. “Right this way.”

  “But this is your room,” Christine objected.

  “I moved my stuff into the lean-to,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “But it’ll be cold.”

  “No, I put in a little heater. It gets too hot at times.”

  Christine did not argue further.

  “Want something to eat?”

  “I ate loads of Aunt Mary’s sandwiches. I think I’ll just crawl in.”

  “Me too. It’s been a long day. Anything you need, just holler.”

  Henry was poking around in the potbellied stove. “Good. There’s still a bit of fire. I just have to bank it for the night or we’ll both be icicles in the morning.”

  “Doesn’t the town have gas heat?”

  “The town does. I don’t.”

  Christine stifled a yawn. “You’ll call me?”

  “For breakfast. Promise.”

  “Good night, then.”

  Christine moved to go, still yawning.

  “Chrissy,” Henry called after her.

  She turned slowly.

  “It’s good to have you. I’ve looked forward to this.”

  “Me too,” she answered with a smile. She had never meant anything more sincerely.

  They shared a simple breakfast together. Then Henry rose and began to gather up his heavy coat and gloves. “I need to get down to the office. You’ll be okay?”

  Christine nodded. “And you need to stop by the barbershop,” she teased him. “Don’t forget.”

  Henry grinned. “I’m not likely to forget.”

  “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

  “Nothing special. We’re going over to Amber’s for supper tonight. We’ll talk things over then. I thought you might like to walk over to the office about noon, and we’ll go for lunch at the café.”

  “The café? That sounds like fun.”

  “Well—it all depends how heavy Jessie’s gone on the spice can today.”

  Henry flipped on his Stetson and turned to go.

  “I’ll see you later, then,” called Christine as the door closed on his tall form.

  If he weren’t my brother, I might fall for him, she mused with a smile. He was so good-looking in his uniform.

  Christine busied herself washing up the breakfast dishes. There really wasn’t much in Henry’s small home that needed attention. He kept things remarkably orderly and clean for a bachelor. Christine did find a recent magazine she had not previously seen and loafed away the morning with some reading.

  She kept one eye on the clock. At fifteen to twelve she wrapped up and took to the street. Henry had given careful directions to the office, only a few blocks away. Sure enough, the small building with its sign, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, soon came into sight. She had been familiar with such stations all her life, so she felt no trepidation as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her eyes roamed quickly over the interior. It was much like the offices her father had occupied— yet different in some way.

  Three desks were scattered about the room. Only one was occupied—and that not by Henry. She looked beyond, where two doors led off the main room.

  “You Christine?” a male voice asked as the young man in uniform stood to his feet.

  Her glance turned back to him. He was not as tall as Henry and a bit stockier. His hair was very dark and his eyes even more so. At the moment they seemed a bit puzzled.

  Christine nodded.

  “Henry said kid sister,” he muttered half under his breath.

  found her tongue. “Where is Henry?”

  “Well, he got called out—unexpectedly.”

  “Out? To where?”

  “Some farmer had him a problem. Henry didn’t explain. Just said he’d be back as soon as he could.”

  Christine shifted slightly, wondering what she should do next.

  “Was . . . was I supposed to wait for him here?” she asked, feeling awkward and childish.

  The young Mountie’s face reddened. “Well—that wasn’t really the plan. I mean . . .” He looked down at his highly polished boots. “Henry said, ‘My kid sister’s coming. I told her I’d take her to the café. If I’m not back in time, will you take her on over?’ I said, ‘Sure.’ ”

  “I . . . I see,” stammered Christine.

  “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep the agreement with my boss.”

  He was still blushing.

  “You must have work to do.”

  “A man has to eat.”

  “Yes . . . I guess so,” Christine said, feeling a bit annoyed with Henry for putting them both in this awkward predicament.

  The man reached for his Stetson. “So. . . ?” he asked.

  Christine managed a smile. “So . . .” she responded. “Let’s go eat.”

  He seemed much relieved. “I have to warn you,” he said as he held the door for her, “Jessie likes the spices.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Henry already warn you?”

  Christine nodded, then began to laugh. �
��I consider myself thoroughly warned. I’ll depend on you to steer me through the menu.”

  “Well—you can have peppered scrambled eggs or peppered stew or super-peppered chili. Take your pick.”

  Christine laughed more heartily, and the young officer joined in.

  CHAPTER

  Six

  They were halfway through the meal when Henry made his appearance. He didn’t even bother with an apology. Christine was feeling more relaxed as she chatted with her lunch partner. She did, however, give Henry a look of relief.

  “So what’s for lunch?” he asked as he took the chair next to her. With a quick glance at the menu, then a look at Christine’s toast and tea, he asked, “Is that all you’re eating?”

  Christine nodded, then lowered her voice. “With double warning about spice, I decided to play it safe.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he whispered behind the menu. “What are you having, Laray?”

  “Laray?” Christine raised an eyebrow.

  “You haven’t met?”

  “Oh yes. We’ve met. I just haven’t been told who it is I’ve met.”

  Laray flushed. “Sorry,” he stammered. “I just never thought—”

  But Christine waved his apology aside. “It’s okay. I should have known. You’re the one who took on the bear.”

  “Actually—it was the bear’s idea. I gladly would have passed up the experience.”

  Christine turned sober. “How is your arm?”

  “Gets a little better all the time. Soon the fellas won’t be able to use it as an excuse to make me do all the office paper work while they cruise around in the squad cars.”

  Henry laughed.

  “You decided?” asked a young waitress, setting a cup of coffee in front of Henry.

  “I’ll have what he’s having.” Henry nodded toward Laray and handed the menu back to the girl. “What are you having?” he asked Laray when she was out of earshot.

  “The lasagna.”

  “Any good?”

  “Yeah, if you like spice.”

  Henry took a swallow of coffee. “One thing you’ve got to say for Jessie,” he said as he put down the cup. “She’s sure not stingy with the coffee beans.”

  Laray nodded. “But I sometimes wonder just how long she uses the same ol’ ones.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Christine said, giving Henry a playful kick under the table.

  “I forgot,” said Henry. “We’d best mind our manners.

  There’s a lady present.”

  Laray shot him a glance. “You told me she was your kid sister.”

  “She is. My kid sister.”

  “She’s hardly a kid.”

  “I also told you she was to be Amber’s maid of honor— didn’t I?”

  Laray shook his head. “I don’t recall anything being said about the maid of honor.”

  “Well, then—meet the maid of honor.”

  At Laray’s look of surprise, Christine remembered that he was the one to be Henry’s best man. It seemed they would be seeing more of one another.

  For a moment Laray appeared at a loss for words. He flushed slightly, then recovered with a wisecrack. “At least I’ll be able to escort you on my good arm.”

  Christine felt her own face flushing.

  “Hey,” said Henry as though suddenly thinking of something. “We’re having supper with Amber tonight to go over wedding plans. How about joining us, Laray?”

  Laray shifted his feet. “I think you’d better check that out with the little lady first.”

  “Amber won’t mind. I’ll give her a call as soon as I get back to the office.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Amber,” mumbled Laray, giving Christine a sideways glance.

  Henry turned to Christine, a frown creasing his forehead. It was clear he thought of no reason for her to object.

  “Fine,” she said with a lift of her shoulders. “If it’s okay with Amber, it sounds fine with me.”

  Christine walked over to Amber’s barbershop that afternoon to offer to help with the supper preparations. On the way to Amber’s home, they stopped at her folks’ to pick up Danny. He lost little time in expressing his feelings over the coming marriage.

  “Mama says you will be my new auntie,” he said, skipping alongside Christine.

  “That’s right.”

  “And I get another grandpa and grandma too.”

  “You do.”

  “Did you know my dad got dead?”

  She hardly knew how to respond. Apparently Amber had thought it important to tell Danny the truth about his father’s logging accident and death. Christine nodded.

  “I don’t remember him . . . but if he was still alive, he’d remember me.”

  “I’m sure he would.”

  “But he’s not—so I’m gonna get a new dad.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “He’s real nice. Mom and I like him. Lots. That’s why we’re gonna marry him. I’m gonna be ring—ring what, Mom?” He stopped abruptly in front of his mother.

  “Ring bearer.”

  “Ring bear,” he repeated, picking up the pace again. “That’s a funny name. It just means I carry a ring on a pillow. Ring bear. I saw a bear one time. It was sorta black and sorta brown. It ran into the trees. Mom said it was scared. I couldn’t hurt a bear. It’s too big.”

  Christine couldn’t help but smile. She wondered if Danny was always as excited and talkative, or if the coming wedding was making him extra energetic.

  “Did you know there’s a war someplace? They’re fighting over there. With real guns. Teacher showed us on the map.”

  Oh my, thought Christine. Why would a teacher inflict that news on her students? Little children shouldn’t have to face such tragedies. . . .

  “Two people have gone from here,” Danny was explaining, gesturing with his hands. “Sam somebody and—and I don’t know his name. They were cowboys, but they have gone to the war. But they aren’t over in that place yet. They still have to learn how to be soldiers. To shoot their guns and things. When they learn all that stuff—then they will go to war.”

  Christine inwardly cringed. Was there no way to get away from it? Did even the young have to be dragged into it? It didn’t seem right that a child had to learn so much about the wickedness of war at such a young age.

  Amber must have been thinking the same thoughts. “Mrs. Wilbur told you all this?”

  “Na-uh,” he said shaking his head. “Tommy did. Tommy told all us kids about it. Rebecca was so scared she started to cry. I think she thought the war was going to come here, so Mrs. Wilbur showed us on the map. It’s a long, long way away. Even over the ocean. But Rebecca says she’ll have bad dreams anyway. She always has bad dreams about something. Snakes and mean cats and even spiders. She always has bad dreams.”

  Christine and Amber exchanged bemused glances over Danny’s head. At least it was a relief to know it wasn’t the schoolteacher who was filling little heads with scary stories.

  “What do you think we should have for supper?” Amber asked. Christine recognized the diversion. “We’re having guests, you remember.”

  “Pancakes,” cried Danny, clapping his hands.

  “I’m not sure our guests would appreciate pancakes for supper. They’re better for breakfast.”

  Danny looked surprised.

  “I think they would rather have something more . . . more meat and potatoes.”

  “Would you?” Danny turned a quizzical face to Christine. She hated to be the one to deny him his pancakes.

  “I think pancakes are just fine. But I agree with your mother. Sometimes working men do like their meat and potatoes.”

  He looked up at his mother. “Then if we need meat, let’s have fried fish.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any fish right now.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Chicken.”

  “Okay. We’ll have fried chicken,” he agreed, but less than enthusiastically.

  T
he three entered Amber’s neat kitchen and deposited bags of groceries they had picked up on the way. Danny began to unload the contents. “Hey,” he called. “This is good.” He waved a package of marshmallows.

  “Now, don’t you get into that. I need it for the dessert I’m making,” cautioned his mother.

  “Not even one?”

  “Not even one.”

  Danny started to the cupboard with the package.

  “No need to put it away. I’m going to use it as soon as I change my dress and wash my hands. Why don’t you get yourself a cookie and some milk, then you can go play with your truck.”

  “Do I need to change my clothes too?”

  “Please.”

  “I’ll change first—then get the cookies.”

  “Cookie,” corrected Amber.

  Danny ran off to change.

  Chatting as they worked, the two cooks in the kitchen did not take long to have the meal well under way. Christine felt she finally would have the sister she had always longed for. She wished their lives were not to be lived so many miles apart.

  “You did meet Laray?” Amber wondered.

  “I did. Henry invited me to the cafe for lunch, but he stood me up. Guess Laray drew the short straw.”

  “He’s a great guy. Henry really likes him.”

  “He seems nice enough.”

  “It was such a shame—that accident with the bear. But he’s coming along really well. Henry says he has almost all the movement back in his arm again. Not quite the strength, but that’ll come.”

  Amber tasted the gravy, nodding her approval. “Not even lumps,” she said with satisfaction.

  The doorbell rang, and Danny rushed through the house.

  “It’s your friend, Mom,” he called.

  Amber smiled. “It has been a bit of a problem deciding what Danny should call Henry until after the big day. We didn’t think ‘Dad’ was appropriate yet. And we didn’t want Henry—but anything else sounds so formal.”

  “Well, it won’t be long now until ‘Dad’ will be just right.” Christine smiled at the thought of her brother as a father.

  “Eight days. Can you believe it? Only eight days.”

  Danny led Henry in by the hand. “He brought the other guy too, Mom,” he announced with a wave toward Laray.