[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring Read online

  At that moment, she spotted us and called out from where she was hoisting herself up, "Isn't it absolutely glorious?" She had an accent of some kind. I couldn't place it at the moment.

  Around my bite of sandwich, I called back, "Yes, isn't it?"

  They came over to where we were seated and flopped down on the rock perch beside us, both breathing heavily.

  "I've never done anything like this before in my life," said the young man.

  "I had a hard time talking him into it at first," informed the woman to my surprise.

  "You've done it before?" I asked her.

  "With my father-many times. He loved to climb." She looked perfectly at home in her pants and stretched out her legs to rest them from the climb.

  "This your first time?" she asked me, sensing that it must be.

  "For me it is," I answered. "My husband has been here before."

  She gave Wynn a fleeting smile. "Once you've been," she stated simply, "you want to come back and back and back. Me, I never tire of it."

  "It's a sight all right," Wynn agreed.

  I suddenly remembered my manners. I looked at our packed lunch. There were still some sandwiches left. "Here," I said, passing the package to them. "Won't you join us?"

  "We brought our own," she quickly responded, and he lifted the pack from his back. "We just needed to catch our breath a bit."

  We sat together enjoying the view and our lunch. We learned that they, too, were honeymooners. From Boston. She had pleaded for a mountain honeymoon and he had consented, rather reluctantly, he admitted; but he was so thankful now that he had. He was an accountant with a business firm, and she was the pampered daughter of a wealthy lawyer. Her father was now deceased and she was anxious to have another climbing mate. Her new husband hardly looked hardy enough to fill the bill, but he seemed to have more pluck than one would imagine. They were planning to take on another mountain or two before returning to Boston.

  After chatting for some time, Wynn stated that we'd best be going if we wanted to see the lake before returning, and the young woman agreed. It was a steep climb back down the mountain, she stated, one that must be taken in good light.

  We went on, bidding them farewell and wishing them the best in their new marriage, which they returned. I got to my feet, unembarrassed by my men's pants. If a wealthy girl from Boston could appear so clad, then I supposed that a fashion-conscious gal from Toronto could do likewise.

  The trail around the mountain to the little lake was actually perilous in spots. I wondered how in the world any woman would ever have been able to make it in a skirt. She wouldn't. It was just that simple. I was glad for my unattractive pants that gave me easy movement. I was also glad for Wynn's hand which often supported me.

  The lake was truly worth the trip. The blue was as deep as the cloudless sky above us, and the surface of the lake was as smooth as glass. It looked as though one should surely be able to step out and walk on it, so unrippled it was. Yet, when we got close and I leaned over carefully to get a good look into its depths, I was astonished to discover just how deep it was. Because of the clearness of the water, one could see every rock and every shadow. I stood up and carefully stepped back, feeling a bit dizzy with it all.

  We did not linger long. The climb back down the mountain was a long one, so we knew we had to get on the trail. We met the other young couple. They still talked excitedly as they walked carefully over the sharp rocks and slippery places. I expected that their future would hold many such climbs. In a way, I envied them. The North held no such mountains-at least not in the place where Wynn had been presently stationed. Wynn had said the mountains did stretch way up to the north country as well; but they were for the most part uninhabited, so very few men were assigned to serve there. I was sorry for that. I would have liked to live in the mountains.

  We felt our way slowly back down the trail. In a way, I found the climb down more difficult than the climb up had been. It seemed that one was forever having to put on the brakes, and it wasn't always easy to be sure just where one's brakes were. On more than one occasion, I started sliding forward much faster than I intended to. Wynn was right. One did need to sit down and attempt to ease down the steepest parts in a most undecorous fashion. What if Mother could see me now? I thought unruefully. I grasped for roots, branches, rocks-anything I could get my hands on to slow my descent. By the end of the day, my hands were scratched in spite of borrowing Wynn's leather gloves for the worst places; my men's pants were a sorry mess of mountain earth and forest clutter; and my hair was completely disheveled.

  However, I still wore a happy smile. It had been some day, a memory I would always treasure.

  We stopped at a gushing mountain stream. I knelt down and bent forward for a drink of the cold, clear water. It had come directly from an avalanche above, Wynn informed me; and I was willing to believe him. The water was so cold it made my fingers tingle and hurt my teeth as I drank it. We didn't really need the drink. Our backpack still held water we had carried with us, but Wynn felt that to make the day complete I must taste the mountain water. I agreed. I wiped the drips from my face and shook my hands free of the coldness and told Wynn how good it tasted. Wynn drank, too, as a reminder to himself that he had been right. No other water on earth tastes quite like that of a mountain stream.

  J'3actr- to eaary

  The next day I. ached all over. I wouldn't have believed that one had so many body parts to hurt. Wynn suggested a soak in a hot tub. It helped some, as long as I stayed there and sat very still. The minute I moved, I hurt again.

  "I had no idea I had so many muscles," I complained.

  Wynn offered to give me a rubdown, and I accepted it.

  "I wonder how he feels," I mumbled into my pillow, as Wynn worked at sore muscles in my back.

  "He? He who?"

  "Her husband. That young couple yesterday. He didn't look exactly like he was built for climbing mountains."

  Wynn chuckled at my comment. "Guess he didn't," he agreed.

  "Come to think of it," I went on, "I wouldn't have picked her out as a climber either."

  "Well," Wynn said seriously, "when I first saw a certain, beautiful young schoolteacher I know, I wouldn't have picked her out as a climber either."

  I laughed in spite of my aches, and then I made a decision. "That's enough," I said to Wynn. "We have only one more day here in the mountains and I want to see as much as I can. Maybe my muscles will ease up some as I walk. Where can we go today?"

  "You're sure?" Wynn asked, a bit doubtful.

  "Positive," I answered.

  "Climbing or walking?" asked Wynn.

  "Just walking. Those old pants aren't fit to be worn anywhere till they are washed."

  "Do you have proper shoes?" inquired my practical husband.

  I pointed to the pair I had chosen for the day before. Wynn shook his head.

  "Not good enough," he stated, and this time I didn't even argue.

  "Okay," I said, "I'll wear the boots." I went for them, hoping with all my heart that my long skirt would hide them.

  It almost did. I smiled to myself and announced to Wynn that I was ready to go.

  We wasted no time. In the morning we went to Bow Falls. They were not high falls but were nevertheless lovely to watch. The water ran wildly between two uprisings of mountain rock which confined it on either side. As it pounded and boiled down the drop of several feet, the water turned from clear, bright translucent to a foaming milky white. One could hear the roar long before rounding the turn where one could look upstream and view the spectacle. It nearly took my breath away. I would have sat and watched the falls, mesmerized for the rest of the morning, had not Wynn roused me. "I hate to prod, but if we are going to fit in the Cave and Basin, we must be going. It's rather a long walk."

  It was a long walk, and already my feet were tired from lifting the heavy boots step by step; so, as soon as we reached the area where public transportation was available, I agreed it would be wise to rid
e rather than try to hike all the way.

  The guide at the Cave and Basin was a jolly Scot who seemed to be having the time of his life escorting visitors through what he treated as his private domain. When he saw Wynn, his face spread with a grin.

  "Aye, an' how be ya, Delaney?" he cried, wringing Wynn's hand vigorously.

  He didn't allow Wynn a chance for an answer. "An' shur now," he went on, "an' don't be a-tellin' me thet ye've found yerself a lass-an' a bonnie one she's bein'."

  Wynn proudly introduced me. I hoped with all my heart that the jovial man would not look down and see my mannish boots peeking out from under my sweeping skirt. He didn't look down. Instead, he grabbed a lantern and hurried us off on our tour of his Cave and Basin.

  "A sight like this ye'll never be seein', not anywhere in this world," he informed me, rolling his is delightfully.

  I shivered some as we followed the man into the cave and along rocky uneven steps to deep within the earth. It got cooler and more mysterious as we advanced; and the old man talked in a spooky, confiding tone, pointing out strange shapes and shadows as he whispered eerie suspicions about what they might have been in some long ago yesteryear. I shivered more noticeably now, and Wynn reached to place a protective arm around me. "Don't pay any attention to his stories," he whispered in my ear. "He makes them up as he goes along."

  "An' look there now," went on the Scot, leaning close and lowering his voice as though someone from the dead past might hear him and take offense. "See there by yonder wall-that there mysterious shape." His finger pointed it out, and the lantern swung back and forth, making the strange shadows dance.

  "Right there," the man leaned even closer to me to make sure that my eyes were following his pointing finger. "Thet there is a skeleton. Thet of an Indian warrior caught here in the cave. He must have been wounded in battle-or else waitin' out a thunderstorm-and somehow he got caught and held here an' never did leave." He paused. "'Course, I just tell thet to the young lasses thet I don't want to spook none," he added confidentially. "What really happened, I'm a-wagerin', is thet he was murdered right here." The is rolled round and round on his tongue.

  I shivered again and we moved on, the lantern bobbing and shivering, too. Again and again, we had things pointed out to us and then we descended a ladder to an underground pool steaming with heat.

  "Kneel down careful like and put yet hand in."

  I wasn't very brave and clung to Wynn's hand as I knelt to feel the water. It was, indeed, nice and warm.

  "What heats it?" I asked in surprise.

  "Aye," laughed the Scotsman. "Only the good Lord knows. He keeps a few secrets of His own. I'm a-guessin' we'll never know unless He decides to be tellin'."

  We retraced our steps. I was looking forward to being back out in the warm sun again, though I wouldn't have missed the experience for anything. I was unprepared for the brightness as I stepped out from the cave. My eyes protested and I closed them tightly and turned away in the opposite direction so I might open them at my own choosing.

  My eyes soon adjusted and I was able to turn back to the cheery guide with a smile of approval for his Cave and Basin. He seemed to feel it was very important that we had enjoyed our venture. I put out my hand.

  "Thank you so much," I said, meaning every word of it. "I enjoyed that ever so much."

  His eyes twinkled. He took the proffered hand and shook it heartily and then turned to Wynn.

  "I always wondered why ye kept on a-waitin' and a-waitin instead of takin' ye a wife, an' now I know. Ye were just a-waitin' fer the finest thet there be."

  Wynn grinned.

  "Well, the best to ye both now," said the Scot, and he gave Wynn a hearty slap on the back and turned to care for more of his tourists.

  We were almost back to Calgary when my honeymoon reverie was broken and my thoughts went instead to all that needed to be done in one short day. I stirred rather uncomfortably and Wynn sensed my restlessness.

  "Something wrong?" he asked, very sensitive to my changing moods.

  "I was just thinking of all that needs to be done tomorrow," I admitted.

  "It shouldn't be too bad," he tried to assure me. "Your trunk is all ready to go and most of the other things are all packed and waiting. There will just be a few last-minute things to be gathered together."

  "But all those wedding gifts?"

  "Julie and Mary volunteered, didn't I tell you?"

  "I don't recall-"

  "I'm sorry. I meant to tell you, so your mind would be at ease."

  "That's fine," I said, feeling better about it. "I do hope they are careful and use lots of packing. Some of those porcelain things are very delicate."

  "Packing?" echoed Wynn. "They won't need much packing. Mary has volunteered to store them in her attic. They will be careful, I'm sure.

  "Store them?"

  Now it was Wynn's turn to show surprise. "Elizabeth, you weren't thinking we would be taking all these things with us, were you?"

  "Well-yes-I-"

  "We couldn't possibly. The Police Force allows so many pounds of baggage per person. We have already stretched our limit. Besides, such things would serve no purpose-have no function-in the North."

  For a moment I wanted to. argue. Their function would be to make a home-to make me feel more like a homemaker. Wasn't that function enough? I didn't argue though. I remembered well my prayer of three days before and my promise to my God to let Wynn be the head of the household. I waited for a moment until I was sure I had complete control and then I looked at Wynn and gave him one of my nicest smiles.

  "I guess that is all taken care of then."

  Wynn put an arm around me and drew me close, even though we were on a crowded train.

  "Thank you, Elizabeth," he whispered against my hair, and I knew I had gained far more than I had lost in the exchange.

  As expected, the next day was a busy one. My family was still with Jon and Mary. They would be staying for a few more days before heading back east. I was glad I still had this one brief day with them before I would be heading north.

  However, there would be no more late-night chats with my sister Julie. Her things had been moved from the room I had used for so long at Jon's, and the room was now set up for Wynn's and my use. It seemed rather strange at first, but I quickly got used to the idea. Already, I didn't know how I had ever managed without Wynn, and I had been a married woman only four short days.

  Wynn was gone a good share of the day, running here and there making final preparations. He had an appointment at the Royal North West Police Headquarters for last-minute instructions and took our last trunks and crates down to be weighed and checked in. We would be starting our journey by train, then switching to boat, and ending by ox cart or wagon. Had it been the winter months, we would have also used dog teams.

  We did not retire early. There was no need to conserve our energy. We had all the next day to sleep on the train if we wished. It seemed far more important now to sit and chat with the family. Reluctantly, we finally went to bed.

  I climbed the stairs to my room for one last time. Who knew when I might sleep here again? I had grown to love this room. I had always felt welcomed and loved in Jon's home. I would miss it. I would miss them. I would miss each one of the children. They might be nearly grown before I saw them again. And what of my dear mother and father? Would they still be in their Toronto home when I returned from the north country? What about Julie? Would she marry while I was gone? And Matthew? He would be a man.

  I did not dread my future with Wynn in his North. The only thing that bothered me was that I would miss so much of what went on here. If only I could freeze everything in place until I came back again so I wouldn't need to miss so much. But that was impossible. One could only be at one place at one time. The world in Toronto and here in Calgary would continue to go on without Elizabeth Delaney, and I must accept the fact.

  I felt a bit teary inside as I turned my face into my pillow. For a moment, I was afraid I was
going to cry; and then Wynn reached for me and rubbed his cheek against mine.

  "Are you ready for adventure, Elizabeth?" he whispered to me, and I could detect excitement in his voice.

  "Um-hum," I murmured, reaching up my hand to feel the strength of his jawline. I smiled into the darkness, and Wynn could feel the pull of my facial muscles as they formed the smile. He kissed me on the temple.

  "I've never been so excited about heading north, Elizabeth," he confided. "Always. before, I've known how much I was really leaving behind. This time I can only think of what I am taking with me."

  I stirred in his arms.

  "I hope I never disappoint you, Wynn."

  "I'm not worried about that." His voice was very serious now. "I only hope and pray that you are never disappointed. The North can be cruel, Elizabeth. It's beautiful, but it can be cruel, too. The people they are simple, needy people-like children in many ways. I guess it's the people who draw me there. I love them in some mysterious way. They trust you, lean on you, so simply, so completely. You sort of feel you have to be worthy of their trust."

  `And I'm sure you are."

  "I don't know. It seems as if I've never been able to do enough. What they really need are doctors, schools, and most of all missions. Missions where they can really learn the truth about God and His plan for man. They have it all so mixed up in their thinking."

  A new desire stirred within me, a desire not just to teach Wynn's people how to read and write, but how to find and worship God as well. Funny. I had never met them-not any of them-yet I felt as if I already loved them.