Chapter 72
Beth let go of Gerald and held her hand to her throat. She paled at the ghostly image of her husband. The same dark hair and medium build. The same self-confident stride. Pus.h.i.+ng aside such thoughts, Beth rushed forward to take Phillip.
"Daddy saved Phillip from the river," Gerald announced.
Phillip had wrapped his arms around August's neck and, as Beth reached out to take him, Phillip resisted.
"No. Want Daddy," he said firmly.
Beth looked into the dark eyes of the man who'd saved her child. She wanted to explain, to say something that would answer the question in the man's eyes, but words wouldn't come.
"You're freezing," Beth finally managed. "Come with me, and I'll get you something dry to wear."
August nodded and followed Beth back to the roadhouse. She paused to open the door with trembling hands, allowing August to pa.s.s through with Phillip. "Thank you," she whispered as August moved only inches from her.
He turned his face to meet her pale blue eyes. He saw the concern for her child and something else. August began to realize that he represented an image from her past.
"You're welcome," he whispered.
Chapter 4.
Phillip refused to be fussed over, and Beth watched in silent concern for signs of complications. The boy seemed fine, however, and the only real dilemma was how to explain to him that the man to whom he clung so affectionately wasn't his father.
Beth moved uncomfortably around the room as she built up the fire in the stove and retrieved warm towels for August and Phillip. It was hard to allow the stranger such an intimate role in her son's life, but at the moment she didn't know what else she could do.
"I must apologize for my sons' behavior," Beth finally said, noting the confused expression on August's face. "Their father was killed last year in the war. They have a misconception about his coming back, or, well, that's not really where the misunderstanding occurred, but it's a long story."
She reached out and pried Phillip from August's lap. "I can offer you a robe while your clothes dry," Beth said, turning to leave the room. "I'll have Gerald show you where you can change."
August nodded and watched as the pet.i.te woman placed a kiss on her son's forehead. He noted the relief in her eyes and the grat.i.tude. He admired the way she handled herself in the midst of the crisis and the tender way she mothered her children. He was so absorbed in watching her as she left the room that he barely heard Gerald's little voice as he instructed August to follow him.
The boy offered August the robe and turned to leave. "I'm glad you came home, Daddy. I missed you."
"Son, I'm not your daddy, but if I were, I'd love having a big strong boy like you," August said with a smile.
"You're not my daddy?" Gerald questioned.
"No," August said, offering the boy his hand, "but I'd like to be your friend. I just moved here and I don't have any friends. Would you be my friend?"
Gerald wrinkled his forehead as he often did when considering something important. "I wanted you to be my daddy. You look like my daddy." He paused in thoughtful contemplation before adding, "I guess I can be your friend."
"I'd sure like it," August said as he pulled the wet s.h.i.+rt from his body. "Now why don't you go see if you can give your mommy some help while I change out of these clothes." Gerald nodded and left August to contemplate the situation.
"Momma," Gerald said as he came into his bedroom.
Beth looked up from where she was putting dry clothes on Phillip. She'd already checked his body for injuries that had been missed before, but other than a few sc.r.a.pes and bruises, Phillip had fared rather well. G.o.d had certainly been watching over him, even sending the stranger who so closely resembled JB.
"What is it, honey?"
"That man says he's not my daddy. I thought he was my daddy, but he isn't."
Beth lifted Gerald into her arms and hugged him close. "No, he's not your daddy. Honey, Daddy is never coming back. Not here. Not on earth. Heaven is where he lives now, and he's going to stay there forever.
"Someday, we'll all leave this earth and go to heaven, but when that happens, Gerald, we can't come back here. We won't even want to. Daddy is happy in heaven, and he won't ever come back here, but someday we'll see him again. Do you understand that?"
"I understand," Gerald said with surprising acceptance. "I told that man I'd be his friend. Is that all right?"
"Of course you can. Now, you two play in here while I fix some lunch for everyone. I'm counting on you to behave," Beth said, kissing each of them.
"We be good," Phillip said, causing Beth to smile.
"I'll call you when lunch is ready," she said and turned to go.
"Can my new friend have lunch with us?" Gerald asked innocently.
Beth nodded. "I'll ask him right now."
Beth was already busy with lunch preparations when August came into the kitchen with his wet clothes.
"Here," Beth said as she put down the potato she was was.h.i.+ng. "Let me take those and hang them out back."
"I hate to be a bother," August said with a grin. There was something about the small woman that captivated him. She seemed so alive and energetic, and August found it hard to believe that she'd never remarried.
Beth glanced up as she took the clothes, and her heart nearly stopped. August's grin was so like JB's. "I suppose," she murmured, forgetting the lunch invitation, "I should introduce myself. I'm Bethany Hogan."
"I'm August Eriksson. May I call you Bethany?"
"Please, or Beth if you prefer."
"I like the name Beth. I hope you will call me August."
Beth nodded and s.h.i.+fted the dripping clothes. "I'm grateful for what you did. Saving my son's life must have taken an incredible act of bravery. I thank G.o.d you
She pinned the clothes to the line, cheris.h.i.+ng the once-familiar weight of a man's clothing. She ran her hand across the collar of August's s.h.i.+rt.
August stood just inside the doorway, hoping that Beth wouldn't see him. He watched as she seemed lost in the moment and wondered if she would ever put her dead husband to rest.
When she turned back toward the peeled log house, August ducked back and quickly took a seat at the kitchen table. He pretended to be preoccupied with his own thoughts when Beth returned to finish fixing lunch.
"I hope you like fried potatoes and ham," Beth said as she continued with her work. "I've also got canned peaches and fresh bread."
"Sounds wonderful, but I hadn't intended on staying for lunch. I never meant to intrude," August said softly.
"Intrude? You saved my son's life. Your presence here is anything but an intrusion. Lunch is an inadequate payment for such a deed."
"Maybe you could tell me where I might find a place to stay," August requested. "I've just arrived from Nome, and I have a job lined up with the Public Roads Administration. I'm not at all familiar with the area, however, so I need some suggestions."
Beth smiled and allowed a bit of a laugh to escape. "It would seem G.o.d threw us together for more than one purpose," she mused. "Northway doesn't offer much in the way of accommodations. I run this as a roadhouse, and I just happen to have lost a boarder this morning. I have a small room with a bed, washstand, and dresser. I don't offer regular meals, what with the rationing and all, but the room rates are reasonable."
"Sounds great," August said enthusiastically. Here was the perfect opportunity to stay close by and learn more about this young widowed mother. He c.o.c.ked his head toward the stove with a chuckle. "What about lunch?"
"What about it?"
"You said no meals."
Beth laughed in spite of herself. "Well, occasionally I offer a meal or two for especially deserving souls."
"If it's half as good as it's starting to smell, I'll try extra hard to be deserving. Besides, where else am I going to find such pleasant company?"
Beth shook her head with a smile. What kind of man was this August Eriksson? He stormed into their lives, saving her child from certain death, and now he sat as relaxed and easygoing as if they were lifelong friends sharing a pa.s.sing moment.
"What are you smiling about?" August asked as he leaned forward.
"What?" Beth realized she'd betrayed her amus.e.m.e.nt with the situation and wasn't quite sure how to explain.
"I saw that smile," August answered. "It's a very nice smile, if I might add."
Beth turned back to her work and changed the subject. "What prompted you to move here from Nome?"
August shrugged his shoulders and leaned back. "I heard about the road project, and I wanted to be part of it. I was too old for the army, and I wanted to do something worthwhile with my life-something that would show after I was gone."
Beth nodded. "That sounds reasonable. Did you leave your family in Nome?"
"I don't have any family," August said, and then corrected himself. "Except for my sister and her husband. My father pa.s.sed away last year, and I've never married."
"I see," Beth said, stirring the cut potatoes into the hot lard on top of the stove. She turned thick ham steaks in the cast-iron skillet, satisfied with the way they were browning.
"What about you? Any family other than the boys?" August questioned curiously.
"No, there's no one else," Beth answered. She retrieved canned peaches from the cupboard before continuing. "My husband, JB, was a pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was killed shortly after the Battle of Britain."
"I'm sorry," August whispered. "What happened?"
"His best friend wrote me about it," Beth said and realized it was the first time she'd ever shared the details of JB's death. "JB was one of the best pilots in the service. He always managed to get himself and his plane out of any risky situation, except the last time. JB always had a bad feeling about using anybody else's plane. Sure enough, when he died, he was flying another man's Spitfire in a routine maintenance check."
"Was he shot down?" August asked, intent on the young woman's answer.
"No," Beth said, remembering the words of the letter she'd received. "He took off but didn't have enough power to make the Spitfire climb. He reached the end of the runway with a forest of trees directly in front of him and not enough lift to clear them. He crashed into them and was killed instantly in an explosion."
"How awful," August said, considering the fiery death.
"My comfort is that JB was a devout Christian. He loved the Lord more than anything in this world, and I have confidence that he's in heaven."
August grimaced slightly at Beth's reference to JB's devotion to G.o.d. He'd once felt that way about G.o.d himself. Now there was only bitter resentment for what he'd lost out on.
"What's wrong?" Beth questioned, noticing August's frown.
"Nothing," August replied as he tried to change the subject. "Your boys must have been very young. No wonder they thought I was their father."
Beth realized she'd hit a nerve with August. "They were very young when JB joined the service and went away. I've tried to keep his memory alive by telling them stories of their father and keeping his picture in the living room, but it isn't the same. I worry about them sometimes, but when I get too concerned, I pray about it and turn them over to their heavenly Father." Beth wondered how August would react to another reference to G.o.d.
August didn't have a chance to respond, however, as Gerald called from the other room, "Is it time to eat yet?"
Beth watched August's expression change to one of amus.e.m.e.nt. "Sounds like I'm not the only one who's hungry," he said, chuckling.
"I'll be right back," Beth said after giving the potatoes a quick stirring. She disappeared for a moment and returned with the boys right behind her. "You boys take a seat with Mr. Eriksson at the table, and we'll eat."
"Would it be all right if they called me August?"
Beth nodded. "I suppose, if that's your wish."
"It is," August said with a smile. "Would you boys like that?"
"August is a month," Gerald offered as if it were news to the stranger.
"That's right, and you are every bit as smart as you are brave. I imagine your mother is very proud of you."
Gerald beamed from ear to ear, while Phillip leaned over and reached for August's hand. "Daddy," he stated clearly, refusing to have any part of August's first name.
Gerald reached over and pulled his brother back. "No, Phillip, he's not our daddy, but maybe he will be." Gerald looked up at his mother and asked, "Do you think since our real daddy isn't coming back that August could be our new daddy?"
Beth turned crimson at the question, and August fought to keep from revealing his own consideration of such an idea. He was already more than just a little fond of the young mother and her boys. Still, they'd only met, and August knew there was much more to be considered than physical attraction.
"Why don't you just pray about it, Gerry?" Beth finally suggested. "G.o.d will listen to your prayers, and if He feels that it's important for you to have a new daddy, then He will send one to us."
"I did pray for a daddy," Gerald insisted. "I prayed that G.o.d would send Daddy home, but you told me he has to stay in heaven. So maybe G.o.d sent this one instead." He pointed at August and smiled. "I think you'd make a good daddy."
"I think you're right," August said with genuine fondness for the boy. "Maybe I could be a pretend daddy," he offered with a glance toward Beth. "If your momma doesn't mind, maybe I could take you boys fis.h.i.+ng and teach you how to chop wood and hunt for food. Of course, I have to work at my job with the new highway, but when I'm not working, maybe we could do some things together."
Gerald clapped his hands and bobbed up and down in his seat. At his brother's excitement, Phillip squealed with delight and Beth had no idea how to react. She thought it totally inappropriate for August to even suggest such a thing, while the boys thought it perfectly natural.
Unable to hold back her tears, Beth turned quickly to the food on the stove to avoid worrying the children or causing August to question her reaction. Regaining her composure, she wiped the tears with her ap.r.o.n and joined her family at the table with the steaming food. She started to sit and then remembered the peaches and bread.
"So is that okay, Momma?" Gerald questioned. "Can August be our pretend daddy?"
Beth turned to meet August's dark eyes. He seemed to understand her pain and offered a warm smile that rea.s.sured her that his intentions were only those that would benefit her sons.
"It's okay, Gerry. You and Phillip can probably learn a lot from August, but just remember to tell me your plans first." She said the latter for August's sake more than the boys. He nodded a promise, and Beth felt calmness wash over her.
She opened the can of peaches and poured them into a bowl, then cut thick slices of her slightly over-browned bread. Bringing these to the table along with the jelly dish, Beth took her seat.
"Would you like to offer grace, August?" Beth questioned, wondering what his response would be.