Whispers from Yesterday (23 page)

My descendants. I do not know if they will be few or if they will be as many as Abraham’s. All I know is, the Lord told me there will be descendants.

Thank You, Jesus.

Esther

TWENTY-ONE

You’re running away …

For the eyes of the L
ORD
move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His.

Just like I did …

The eyes of the L
ORD
are toward the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry.

Just like your grandmother did …

My eyes shall be upon the faithful of the land, that they may dwell with me; He who walks in a blameless way is the one who will minister to me.

Just like Hal did …

The eyes of the L
ORD
are in every place, watching the evil and the good.

But you can’t outrun God, Karen … You can’t outrun God, Karen … You can’t outrun God …

The tangerine light of dawn spread across the ceiling of Dusty’s bedroom. It surprised him to find it there. He was usually awake long before sunup.

But, of course, the boys had left on Saturday, and today there was no need to rise early.

Sitting up, he raked his fingers through his hair and yawned. What he needed was a cup of coffee to clear the cobwebs. Then maybe he’d put his feet up and read a good book, just for the fun of it. A suspense novel. One of those books about the end times that had been getting such great reviews. Anything other than a textbook. He’d be getting his fill of those as soon as he was back at the university.

His eyes widened. The
university!
He’d be driving back and forth to school in Boise. But he couldn’t leave Sophia and Patty alone all day with no transportation. Sophia was old and Patty was pregnant, and the Golden T was miles from anywhere. And, thanks to Karen, they were now short one vehicle.

Why didn’t I think of this before?

He got out of bed, pulled on his jeans, dropped a T-shirt over his head, then slipped his feet into a pair of thongs. He needed that coffee before he’d be able to work through this latest problem.

Lord, we’re gonna need plenty of help on this one.

He opened the bunkhouse door.

And there was his pickup, Karen seated inside, her forehead resting on the steering wheel.

He whispered her name as quickened strides carried him toward the truck. Sunlight glinted off the windshield, the reflection momentarily blinding him.

“Karen?” Hurrying around to the driver’s side, he grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “Karen, what’s wrong?”

She lifted her head, and her gaze met his. “I came home. I’m tired of—”

Before she could finish whatever she was about to say, Dusty drew her out of the truck and into his arms. He held her tightly as he brushed his lips across the top of her head, all the while silently praying,
Thank You, Jesus. Thank You for bringing her home. Thank You. Thank You.

He had no idea how much time passed before she pulled back from him, lifting her eyes toward his.

“I don’t want to run away anymore, Dusty. I need to find answers.”

He heard the heartache in her voice, and he longed to soothe it away. He longed to tell her he loved her. He longed to tell her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But he kept silent, knowing he had to be patient. If ever there was a time to seek God’s guidance, this was it.

Karen looked toward the house. “I don’t have much of Grandmother’s money left.”

“It won’t matter. She’ll just be glad you’re back.”

“I … I’m sorry about taking your truck.”

He gave her a tender smile. “You brought it back. The rest doesn’t matter.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you inside.”

She let him steer her toward the house, up the porch steps, and through the front door. They stopped, and Karen’s gaze swept over the kitchen. The scent of freshly perked coffee filled the room.

“Sophia must be up,” he said needlessly.

“She’ll be in her garden.” Karen stepped away from him. “Praying.”

He watched her walk across the kitchen, putting more distance between them.

“She’ll be out there praying for me,” she added.

“Yes.”

She turned toward him. “I don’t know if I can ever believe the things you do. About God and Jesus and faith and … and love.”

This is real love,
he quoted silently, willing her to understand.
It is not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

“I’ve been reading the Bible she gave me.”

He smiled.

“No need to look so pleased,” she said with a note of irritation. “It doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“Sorry,” he answered, but his smile remained.

Whether Karen knew it or not, the Holy Spirit was at work in her heart, and he couldn’t keep himself from silently rejoicing.

Seated beneath the willow, Sophia rejoiced as well. Before coming to the garden, she’d seen Karen in Dusty’s truck, and she’d known the young woman had returned.

“And she who seeks the Truth shall find Him,” she whispered.

Her gaze strayed to her vegetable patch. Ripening tomatoes hung on the vines. Three rows of cornstalks formed the southern border of the rectangle garden; their tassels bobbed and danced in a crisp morning breeze. Long, green tentacles from the zucchini plants spread in several directions.

It was easy now, as summer ended, to tell what each plant was. It was more difficult early in the season, especially for the untrained eye.

She remembered the day Billy had pulled up several young plants, thinking they were weeds. “It’s hard to tell what they are when nothing’s growin’ on ‘em,” he’d said to her.

It’s the same thing with people, isn’t it, Lord? But You know what they are. You know
who
they are. You know who Karen is and what You have in store for her. And one day, we’ll be able to see it too.

As if in response to her thoughts, she saw her granddaughter coming down the path toward her. Karen had lost weight in the past three weeks. Judging by the circles beneath her eyes, she hadn’t been getting much sleep either. “Hello, Grandmother.”

“Come.” Sophia patted the bench with her hand. “Sit beside me, dear. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She sat as directed.

Sophia enfolded Karen’s left hand in her right one and squeezed.

“I’m sorry I took your money.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t. I know how little you have. And what you do have, you give to others. Me, I’ve just thought about myself.” Karen closed her eyes. “I want my life to
mean
something. I want to be a better person than I am.”

“Oh, my dear.” Sophia released her granddaughter’s hand, then put her arm around Karen’s back and drew her close, stroking her hair with her hand. “I love you so much.”

“No one ever loved me until you,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“You’re wrong, Karen. You’re so very wrong. You’ve been loved by God all your life.”

“I want to believe that.”

Sophia sent up a quick prayer.
Help me, Lord!
Karen choked back a sob.

“Dear girl,” Sophia murmured as she glanced up at the blue morning sky. “My dear, dear girl.” She didn’t know what else to say. Perhaps there wasn’t anything else.

Dusty leaned his shoulder against the window frame in Sophia’s bedroom, watching as Sophia comforted her granddaughter. He saw the tremble of Karen’s shoulders and knew she was crying.

His eyes suddenly misted, blurring his vision. He blinked rapidly, at the same time clearing his throat. He’d never been comfortable with his own tears, not even when there was no one else around to see them.

I see them.

I love her, but what if she never accepts You? Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the windowpane. A deep sigh escaped him. Operating the Golden T Youth Camp was a study in the faith walk. So why couldn’t he seem to trust God to do what was best for him when it came to women?

No, not women.

Just one woman.

Just Karen.

Thursday, February 8, 1940

Dear Diary,

Mikkel has talked himself blue in the face, trying to convince Isaac to take his family and leave Denmark now. But Isaac is like Grandfather Fritz. He cannot believe the Germans would march into a neutral country. Hannah is just as stubborn and will do nothing to change Isaac’s mind.

I feel my husband’s concern. It is not lack of faith, for I know Mikkel finds comfort in God. But he senses there is great peril. He rarely sleeps and is gone for many hours every day.

This morning, he decided to make changes to the upper floors of the house. He said we will need a place to hide our valuables should the Nazis bring their war to Copenhagen. I know I looked at him in utter surprise and confusion. “What valuables?” I asked, but he only shook his head and said I must tell no one. Not even Hannah. I will honor his request, of course, yet I cannot understand it.

He has hidden our radio. He even lied to Grandfather about it, saying it was broken. I have never known Mikkel to tell a lie, but I can see it in his eyes. He thinks it is better for Grandfather and for me not to know some things. And so he tries to protect us, as much as he is able.

I long to hear from Mama and Papa, but the war in the Atlantic has disrupted mail service. I write to them often and hope my letters get through.

I write to Sophia as well. How my heart aches to hear from her again. It has been nearly three years since we last spoke. Such a very long time to have silence between sisters.

Esther

Tuesday, April 9, 1940

Germany has invaded Denmark. They took control of the Citadel by 5:00 this morning. The citizens of Copenhagen awakened to find Nazi troops crowding the streets and squadrons of aircraft circling over our heads. After some resistance, King Christian X ordered his troops to lay down their arms.

Despite everything Mikkel said in the past, I was as surprised as almost everyone else. I wanted to believe we would be spared.

Now the war is here.

Esther

TWENTY-TWO

Karen’s return to the Golden T was celebrated much like the return of the prodigal son.

In the afternoon, Dusty and Karen went for a horseback ride. They followed a trail down to the Snake River where they watched birds of prey circling above the high bluffs. Dusty didn’t force her to talk, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t ready.

After their ride, Dusty fired up the grill to barbecue steaks, a rare extravagance. Patty had baked a cake, and Sophia had squeezed lemons for her famous lemonade. They ate their supper while sitting around a campfire and visited into the evening, watching as dusk gave over to night and stars blanketed the heavens.