As the light tower grew and the keeper’s cottage neared completion, the preparations for the wedding escalated.
Then, suddenly, the wedding day arrived, and everyone was scurrying around, either helping or getting in the way. Moriah had given the crew the day off in celebration and a chance to come to the wedding if they wanted.
The phone was ringing as Ben entered the lodge, but no one answered. He heard the shower running upstairs, probably Moriah getting an early start on preparing for her big day as Katherine’s maid of honor.
The tourist season was finally winding down as families went home to get children ready for school, but several of the remaining guests were pitching in to help with the wedding. Today, all of Katherine and Nicolas’s plans and preparations would come together.
Since no one seemed interested in the fact that the phone was ringing, he answered it.
“Robertson’s Resort. Can I help you?”
“Ben?” The voice sounded far away.
“Yes.”
“It’s me. Abraham.”
Ben’s heart lurched. Abraham and his wife, Violet, were the two elderly missionaries helping him with the Yahnowa tribe. If Abraham was calling, something was terribly wrong. It was a hard, two-day trek from their village to the nearest telephone.
“What’s wrong, brother?” Ben gripped the phone tightly against his ear.
“It’s Violet. She’s sick.”
“How sick?”
“She doesn’t want me to tell you about it.”
“Why?”
“She’s modest.”
“I know she’s modest, but what’s wrong?” Ben’s chest was pounding. He had hated to leave those two alone. Abraham was a hale seventy-year-old, but Violet was frail. She compensated by possessing a lion’s heart and an enormous love for the Yahnowa people, but still…
“She thinks she might have bowel cancer, Ben.”
“How long has she suspected?”
“Since before you left.”
“And she didn’t tell anyone?”
“She hoped the problem would go away. Even I didn’t know.”
“Where is she now?”
“Back at the village. She feels too bad to trek out. I’m arranging for a helicopter, but she’s worried about leaving our people. She thinks there will be trouble if one of us isn’t there.”
“Why?”
“There’s been some revenge killings by two tribes near us in the south. There’s been talk. She’s afraid it will spread to the Yahnowa. You know how that kind of thing can spill over.”
“Yes. I know.” Ben pondered the situation. Amazon tribes frequently made the feud between the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s look like a tea party. Entire tribes had been wiped out before the arrival of the missionaries and after.
“I’m sorry to ask this, Ben, but we need you to come back as soon as possible. Aren’t you nearly done there?”
Ben made some quick calculations. He had intended to finish mortaring the top run of stone on the tower by noon, just in time to get ready to be Nicolas’s best man.
The shower shut off above him, and he stared at the ceiling. He hated the idea of breaking the news of an early, unexpected departure to Moriah
“Ben?” Abraham’s voice was uncharacteristically querulous. “Ebenezer? Are you there?”
He had no choice. He had an obligation greater his desire to spend more time with Moriah.
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Ben said.
“You need to plan to stay awhile, Ben,” Abraham said. “Even if Violet doesn’t have cancer, I don’t think we’ll be coming back. I’ve been having a few dizzy spells, myself. I’m afraid we’re done. We’ll try to find someone to come take our place, but it might take some time.”
“I understand. I’ll take care of things.” Ben’s mind began to calculate logistics.
One day. He only had one day left with Moriah, and it was already filled with a wedding.
“Thank you,” Abraham said. “I knew you would come.”
“Give Violet my love. Tell her I’m praying for her.”
Ben hung up. He grabbed the phone book, dialed, and scheduled his flight. Leaving Manitoulin Island…and Moriah…was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done, but he no longer had a choice.