15
Six-year-old Davey held a flower up to Collette, and she crouched down to hug the little charmer. “Why, thank you, monsieur.”
“You sure do talk pretty, Miss Langelier. What does moan-sure mean?”
“You may call me Collette, and monsieur”—she pronounced the word slower than normal—“means sir.”
“That’s a right fancy way to pronounce sir. Why do you say that?”
Collette tilted her head and thought about it for a moment. “Because it’s the French word and I am French. I guess I don’t think about certain words that are so . . . hmmm . . . what’s the phrase? Everyday normal.”
“I think I understand ya. I use the word ain’t a lot for my everyday normal talking, but Mama hates it. My schoolteacher hates it more than Mama!”
The little guy had worked his way into Collette’s heart. She loved their daily conversations by the river. His mother only allowed him to go each day because his father said it would be good for him to not fear the river. Their one requirement was that Collette accompany him if they were unavailable. They had been so very grateful for her actions—even offering her money as a means of paying her back.
Collette had refused, of course. Surely anyone would have done the same, but Jean-Michel told her that wasn’t necessarily true. Many people, he had said, would have put their own safety first. He praised Collette for the selfless act.
They walked closer to the river, causing Davey to scoot as close to her as possible. “You know what, Miss Collette?” Davey’s little face turned serious.
“What?” Collette had gotten used to his questions each day. And they always started with “you know what?” It took her a while to catch on, but it became their special conversation. At least to Collette it seemed that way.
“I thought you was an angel that day.”
“What day? The day you fell?” Up until now, Davey hadn’t been willing to talk about his close call. His mother told Collette that he hadn’t even shared with them why he had fallen.
“Yep. You had on that pretty white dress with the blue birds on it. So when I saw ya, I thought Jesus had sent an angel to rescue me.”
“Why would you think Jesus sent an angel?”
“’Cause God protects His children. Mama told me so. She said that sometimes Jesus has to send angels to help us get out of the messes we get ourselves into.” He nodded and raised his eyebrows.
“But, Davey, you didn’t get yourself into that mess, those older boys . . . they are the ones who are at fault for you falling into the river.” It still bothered her that those bullies had picked on little Davey. It was little comfort to hear they’d received punishment from their parents. The next time they did something so heartless, there might not be anyone around to save the innocent.
“That doesn’t matter, Miss Collette. Don’t you believe that Jesus sent you at just the right moment? If you hadn’t been there, I woulda drowned and been swept a long ways down the river.” His face was so intense, Collette studied him for a moment.
“I don’t know what to say to that, Davey. But if you believe Jesus sent me, then I must agree with you.” She had no idea what had brought her to the river at the very time those children would need her. Could Davey be right? Did Jesus or God or someone up there send her? Davey was such a slight boy for his age. He wouldn’t have had a chance had she not been willing to jump right in after him.
Father’s letter came back to her mind. She’d read it so many times lately. Needing a connection to the man she’d so completely adored and wondering what impact his instructions would have on her life. If she could follow through with them.
“You do believe in God, don’t ya?” Davey’s face looked shocked that maybe she didn’t.
She couldn’t let the little guy down. “But, of course, I believe in God. I just need to learn a lot more about Him.” Which was all true. But where did she start? The same question had been plaguing her for weeks.
“Well, I can teach ya everything I know.”
The thought made her want to chuckle, but she kept her laughter in check. “I would be very honored if you would help me, Davey.”
“We ain’t . . . aren’t going to be here much longer, so we better start tomorrow. Right here by the river. But right now, I gotta go back in. Mama will be upset if I miss nap time.” He jumped up and ran off, waving as he went.
Collette waved back and shook her head in wonder. Maybe it was time to learn more about God so she wouldn’t look unintelligent to a six-year-old.
Heading back to the hotel, she knew just who she wanted to speak to. Someone who had lots of extra time on her hands right now.
Cassidy.
Margaret Johnson looked over the menu for the third time. Her mind wasn’t on it. She was more than a little worried about Cassidy, despite the doctor’s assurance that everything was going along just fine.
“Do you have those menus ready for me?” Mr. Bradley swept into the downstairs dining room.
“I’m working on it, as you can see.” She motioned to the table. She thought for a moment to take out her frustrations on the man, then thought better of it. The truth was always better at times like these. “I suppose my thoughts have been elsewhere.”
He sat down at the table. His expression was sympathetic. “I know you’re worried about our Cassidy, but she is doing quite well according to her husband.”
“I know. I just know how fragile life can be. A person can be right beside you one minute and gone the next. I’ve seen it happen.”
He nodded. “As have I.”
“I didn’t realize.”
He shrugged. It was late and the man looked exhausted. “You weren’t the only one to lose family to the epidemic.”
“Of course, I know that.” She shook her head. “I doubt there is anyone here who didn’t lose someone. Still, when it’s someone else, you can sympathize and move on. It isn’t the same as when it happens to you.” She leaned back in her chair. “Who did you lose, Mr. Bradley?”
“My wife and infant son.”
“That must have been devastating.” She’d heard the pain in his voice.
“It was. They were fine when I left for work that morning, but dead before I returned home.”
“It was that way with my brother and most of his family. My husband and children were several days with it. In fact, I thought they’d turned a corner and were getting better.” The memory was still so painful. She had been sure they’d beaten death.
Mr. Bradley nodded. “I think about them both from time to time. My son would have been eight years old had he lived.”
“Mine would have been twenty. My daughter twenty-three. Sometimes I think about them and wonder what they would have been like. Would they be married? Have families of their own?”
He nodded. “But it’s never good to stay too long in the past.”
Margaret squared her shoulders. “No, it isn’t. Especially when we have a baby on the way.” She smiled. “I believe our Cassidy will make a fine mother.”
“As do I.” Mr. Bradley stood. “But that does bring me to a point I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.”
“What would that be?”
“I promised you help, and in keeping with that I’ve hired another cook’s assistant to come and help you.”
“I don’t need any help, and if I did, I would think I’d have the right to hire my own person. I can’t have just anybody in my kitchen trying to do things their own way, Mr. Bradley.” She grew more irritated with the idea by the minute. “And just what sort of person did you hire without talking to me first? I suppose it will be some flighty, senseless girl who has never lived away from the big city. I can just see her sitting here crying and pining for her home.”
“Mrs. Johnson . . .” The manager sighed.
She got to her feet and took up her menus. “Honestly, I don’t know why I stay on. No one seems to care at all what I want.” She looked at Mr. Bradley as if to dare him to say otherwise.
He smiled. “Mrs. Johnson, I do sympathize, but we have over a thousand people moving through this hotel in the next month alone. Cassidy is not going to be able to return to work, and I had the offer of this cook to come to us on loan. I would have spoken to you earlier about it, but there simply wasn’t time. I had to return my answer quickly.”
“Just on loan?” She calmed a bit. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Yes.”
She thought about it a moment. They were scheduled to have a larger number of visitors than ever before. Just getting through the year before with Cassidy at her side had been difficult.
“All right. What’s her name?”
Mr. Bradley couldn’t contain a grin. “It’s not a her. It’s a him. Daniel Ferguson.”
“A man? You want me to put a man in my kitchen? And not just a man, but a Scot? Mr. Bradley you must be out of your mind. I won’t be having it.”
“But I’m afraid you must, Mrs. Johnson. Try to remember it’s for the sake of the hotel.” He headed to the door. “Please try to have those menus to me before you head off to bed.”
She’d had all she could take. Without warning she snatched up the menus and crossed the room. With a shove she thrust them at Mr. Bradley’s chest. “Here. Maybe you can get your Scotsman to figure them out. No doubt he’ll be serving us haggis and scones for every meal.”
She stomped out of the dining room and made her way upstairs.
A Scotsman.
In her kitchen!
It was unimaginable.
“I apologize, sir.” The manager, Mr. Bradley, handed Jean-Michel an envelope. “This must have fallen behind the mail slot. We found it this morning.”
Jean-Michel took the envelope. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Bradley. Thank you very much.” He nodded and began his trek up the stairs to his room. The handwriting was unmistakable.
Katherine.
Opening his room door, he looked around him. He hadn’t seen her for ten days. And it felt like a lifetime of being parched. He hadn’t expected the feelings that overwhelmed him as soon as their eyes met. Had it really been five years since her father had forbidden them to marry? Since he’d taken the family and fled the embassy for America? Both Jean-Michel and Katherine lived through a lifetime of agony after that.
He laid his cane on the bed and sat down in the chair to read the letter. All he knew was that they had left the Curry and would be returning to the hotel to spend the summer because that’s all the staff knew.
Dear Jean-Michel,
I hope Collette is back to her normal self and recovered and that you are able to enjoy all that the Curry Hotel has to offer. Grandmother and I have been praying for you both.
I apologize for not delivering this in person, but that is part of my difficulty.
It was wonderful to see you again after all these years, but it was also quite a shock.
That is why we left. I needed to think through many things and God is helping me heal. Grandmother has had me traipsing all over the country, and now wants to explore a bit more of Alaska, so I am catering to her wishes and letting God work in my heart and life.
I pray you are well. When I return, I hope we can take that walk.
Sincerely,
Katherine
Her signature hadn’t changed and he loved seeing it. But the contents of the letter were not what he’d expected. Why did she have to leave? Especially after they’d just reconnected. What was Maria Harrison thinking? The older lady had orchestrated the whole trip, for pity’s sake!
Getting up from the chair, Jean-Michel began pacing. It didn’t make any sense. Hadn’t Mrs. Harrison thought that he was the only hope for Katherine? He couldn’t very well help, though, if they weren’t even in the same location and especially if they couldn’t ever talk.
The question that burned the most was why on earth Katherine would turn to God rather than turn to him? It wasn’t like she’d been a religious person all those years ago. As he recalled, her parents didn’t even go to church services on Sunday. And it definitely didn’t sound like her husband had any interest in such matters.
What changed?
And why did he all of a sudden feel useless? He sank back into the chair.
“Knock, knock.”
He looked up to find Collette coming in through their adjoining bathroom. She looked quite lovely dressed in a salmon-colored dress that sported a wide ivory collar trimmed in lace. She’d pinned up her hair in an orderly bun and looked ready for a day of leisure.
“I heard you had a letter.”
“News travels fast in this place.” Jean-Michel held up the missive.
“Is it from Katherine?”
“No, the King of England.”
She scrunched her nose and fixed him with a look. “So what does His Highness have to say? Honestly, Jean-Michel.”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not good company.”
“There’s nothing new about that.” She came to him and bent down to kiss his head. “But I am always hopeful you will change. I just came by to tell you I’ll be visiting with Mrs. Brennan . . . Cassidy.”
“Why?”
She straightened and walked toward the door. “Why not?”
“Collette, I’m serious. Why would you bother the poor woman?”
“Because she invited me to.” Collette opened the door. “She’s bored and needs a friend, and I have questions and need some answers.”
“Answers about what?”
“God.” She exited, pulling the door closed behind her.
God? Yet another person turning to God rather than him? It was like some sort of strange joke that he couldn’t ever hope to be in on. What was happening to him?
Collette sat in the ladder-backed chair beside Cassidy Brennan’s bed. “So then it made me wonder if God might have really sent me to that bridge just for the purpose of saving Davey.”
“I’m sure He did. The Bible says that He sees even when the sparrow falls. How much more is He going to keep track of little boys?” Cassidy put her hand to her protruding stomach. “Just like He’s been watching over me and my baby.”
“So God isn’t just up there somewhere—doing nothing?” Collette pointed to the ceiling. “Or just waiting to judge us and destroy us for not pleasing Him?”
Cassidy looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Goodness. Who told you that?”
Collette shrugged. “I don’t know that anyone in particular has. It’s just that our family was never overly religious. My mama used to read me Bible stories. I remember that.” She smiled at the memory. “I was especially fond of the one where these two women are fighting over the same baby. They both say they are the mother of the baby. Oh, there was another baby, but he was dead—one of the mothers had rolled over on him in the night. At least I think that’s how it went.”
“Yes. It’s the story of Solomon judging the case and deciding which mother was speaking the truth. When neither was willing to admit the baby wasn’t really theirs, he decided to cut the baby in two and give half to each woman.”
Collette got excited. “Oui, and the real mother fell to her knees and begged him not to do it. She told him to just give the baby to the other woman, and that’s how Solomon knew she was the real mother—because she didn’t want anything bad to happen to her baby. Mama told me she would give her life for mine.” Collette felt a wash of emotion but fought back her tears. “In many ways, she did. I was quite sick with the influenza, and Mama nursed me, even though she wasn’t well herself.”
Cassidy grew thoughtful and stroked her stomach. “I don’t even know my little one yet, but I feel such a fierce love. I would give my life for my child. It makes me stand in awe of God all the more, because He gave His only Son to die for me.”
“Just you?”
“Goodness, no. But if I had been the only one who needed a Savior, Jesus still would have died for me. God loves us just that much.”
“But why? What have we done that merits such love?”
Cassidy laughed. “We’ve done nothing and that’s the wonder of it. Think about it. Your mother said she’d give her life for you. I would give my life for my baby. Neither you nor this unborn child have done anything to merit such declarations. Just as we did nothing to deserve a Savior. It’s not about us, Collette. It’s about Him.”