Our Bible studies together started the next day as planned. We did not meet together every day, but we did meet regularly. Ian did not seem to object, and Wynn was most encouraging.
Nimmie was a good student; and as we began to piece together the whole plan of God for His creation, she became excited about it.
“Katherine should be here! She needs to hear this,” she insisted.
I wondered about Katherine. I doubted that she would come out of her bitterness long enough to even listen, but Nimmie kept insisting.
“Do you mind if I bring her?” she continued.
“Well, no. I don’t mind. I’m not sure—I’m not sure she’d come that’s all. I’ve asked her to my house many times, and I’ve never been able to get her to come.”
“For Bible study?”
“Well, no, not for Bible study necessarily. Just for tea. But if she won’t come even for tea, I surely don’t think she’ll want to come for study.”
“She might,” persisted Nimmie. “I’ll ask her.”
When Nimmie arrived for the next study, she had Katherine with her. I never will know how she effected the miracle. I tried to keep the shock out of my face as I welcomed them both in.
Katherine scowled as we opened our Bibles and began to read. She had brought a Bible of her own, but it didn’t look as though it had received much use. She said nothing all morning long, even though Nimmie often stopped in the reading to comment or ask for an explanation. She was eager to know not just the words but the meaning of the words, now that she knew each of the stories was true.
When the two ladies left that morning, I told them I would be looking forward to our next time together. Katherine frowned and informed me in unmistakable tones, “Don’t expect me back. I came just to get this here woman off my back. There’s nothing in this book that I don’t already know. I’m not a heathen, you know—I was raised in church.”
“Then you must miss it,” I said softly.
She wheeled to look at me.
“I was raised in church, too,” I continued, “and if there is one thing about the North that I miss more than any other, it is not being able to go to church on Sunday.”
She snorted her disgust, pressed her lips together and marched out the door.
Nimmie looked at me sadly and followed the other woman.
———
I don’t know how it came about; but the next time Nimmie came for her study, Katherine was reluctantly trudging along behind her, her Bible tucked under one arm.
I made no comment except to welcome them both, and we proceeded with our reading and discussion.
———
The weather was getting colder. Daily, large flocks of ducks and geese passed overhead as the birds sought warmer climates. Almost all the leaves were dancing on the ground rather than clinging to the now-bare branches. The animals’ coats began to thicken; and men talked about a long, hard winter.
Wynn hired some men to haul a good supply of wood for the fire, and we prepared ourselves as well as possible for the winter weather ahead.
The inevitable day came. The north winds howled in, carrying sub-zero temperatures and swirling snow. We were in the midst of our first winter blizzard. I was so thankful that Wynn was home, safe and sound, instead of out someplace checking on a far-off trapper.
In spite of the fire in the stove, the temperature in the cabin dropped steadily. Wynn lit the fireplace and hung some blankets over the windows to shut out the cold. Still the chill did not leave the air. We piled on the clothing to keep our body heat in.
That night we banked our fires and retired early, hoping that the next day might bring a break in the storm. During the night, Wynn was up more than once to be sure the fire was still stoked with wood.
“I do hope there are no casualties,” Wynn said. “This is unusually severe for this time of year. Some folks might not have been prepared for it.”
I hoped, too, that there were no casualties. It would be terrible to be caught out in such a storm.
When we awoke the next morning, we were disappointed to find the fury of the storm had not slackened. Still it raged about us.
“Look,” I said to Wynn when I found the water in the washstand basin frozen, “it really is cold in here!”
I was about to empty the chunk of ice into the slop bucket when Wynn stopped me. “Don’t throw it out,” he instructed. “Heat it and reuse it.”
“Use this?”
“Who knows when we might be able to get more water. We only have three quarters of a pail, and we will need that for drinking and cooking. We’ll make the wash water last as long as possible.”
When I had finished the breakfast dishes, I did not throw out that water either. Instead, I left it in the dishpan at the back of the stove. It would have to serve for washing the dinner dishes and perhaps even the supper dishes as well.
I was all set to enjoy a lovely day with Wynn in spite of what the weather was doing outside; but he came from the bedroom drawing on a heavy fur jacket.
“Where are you going?” I questioned in alarm.
“I need to go down to the Hudson’s Bay Store and make sure there are no reports of trouble. I shouldn’t be gone too long; but if something comes up and I don’t get back right away, you’re not to worry. There is plenty of wood. You shouldn’t have any problem keeping warm and dry.”
He stopped to kiss me. “Don’t go out, Elizabeth,” he cautioned, “not for any reason. If something happens so I can’t get back to you by nightfall, I’ll send someone else.”
By nightfall? What a dreadful thought!
Wynn slipped out into the swirling snow, and I was left standing at the window watching his form disappear all too quickly.
I don’t remember any day that was longer. There was nothing to do but to tend to the fires. Even with both burning, the cabin was cold. I borrowed a pair of Wynn’s heavy socks and put on my boots. Still my feet were cold.
I walked around and around the small room, swinging my arms in an effort to keep warm and to prevent total boredom. The storm did not slacken. It was getting dark again. Not that it had ever been really light on this day, but at least one had realized it was day and not night.
I fixed some tea. I had quite forgotten to eat anything all day. I was sorry I had not thought of it. It could have helped to fill in a few of my minutes.
It was well after I had lit the lamp and set it in the window that I heard approaching footsteps. I rushed to the door. It was Wynn. He was back safe and sound. I could have cried for joy.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, hugging him snowy jacket and all.
“As far as we know,” he replied, stamping the snow from his boots. “We had to go and get Mary. She had no fuel for a fire and wouldn’t have made it through the storm, I’m sure.”
“Who’s Mary?”
“She’s a woman who lives alone since she lost her husband and family three or four years ago. They call her Crazy Mary—maybe she is; maybe she isn’t, I don’t know. But she refuses to move into the settlement, and she has a tendency to rant and rave about things. She was mad at me tonight for bodily removing her from her cabin and bringing her to town.”
“Bodily?”
He nodded. “She absolutely refused to go on her own.”
“What did she do? Did she fight?”
“Oh, no. She didn’t fight; she just wouldn’t move, that’s all. I carried her out and put her on the sled, and she rode into town like a good girl. But I had to pick her up and carry her into Lavoies’ cabin as well.”
I smiled, thinking of this determined Indian lady. She certainly had gotten her point across.
“Well, she should be all right now,” said Wynn. “Mrs. Sam is sure she will stay put as long as the storm continues.”
I was glad Crazy Mary was safe. What is the real story behind her name? I wondered.