Chapter 76
"And I'll be here for a while," August said and gave Gerald a rea.s.suring pat. "Don't worry about it. You go ahead and help Mrs. Miller. We can certainly catch up on our talking tomorrow while we're fis.h.i.+ng."
"Well, I guess we can help," Gerald said once he felt certain of August's presence.
"I'm afraid the boys haven't eaten yet, Mrs. Miller. Would you like to join us for supper?" Beth asked, proud that Gerald had put his own wants aside to help someone else.
"No thanks, and if you don't mind, I'd like to treat the boys to a picnic. I have sandwiches and cold drinks, as well as some special cookies that they are very fond of," Mrs. Miller answered.
"Well, what do you say, boys? You want to have a picnic with Mrs. Miller?" August questioned before Beth could ask. "I'll bet it'll be a load of fun."
"Really, Daddy?" Phillip asked with wide eyes.
"Why, sure. It's a beautiful evening, and Mrs. Miller makes mighty good cookies. I know 'cause she brought us some while we were working on the airstrip."
"Okay," Gerald said as he hopped down from August's lap. "We'll go."
"I'm really grateful, boys," Mrs. Miller said, motioning toward the door. "Let's hurry so we can eat before we pick the berries."
The boys went along with Mrs. Miller, and Beth was left to face August alone.
"I guess we'll have more than enough supper," Beth said as she finished putting the food on the table. She took a seat across from August and realized it was the first time they'd shared dinner alone. Always before they'd had the comfort of the boys to dispel any tension, but now they sat face-to-face, both seeming to know they were going to deal with more than supper.
"I'll say grace," Beth said, avoiding August's eyes. She bowed her head without waiting to see if August would and began, "Dear Father, we thank You for this meal and the fellows.h.i.+p we share. Bless us now and guard us in our steps. Amen."
August held out his hand for Beth's plate, dished out a generous portion of the steaming ca.s.serole, and handed it back to her.
"Thank you," Beth said. She wanted to say so much more, yet she felt a sense of quiet come over her, as if it were more important that August begin the conversation.
"This is real good," August said with a nod of approval. "I've had moose steak, moose roast, moose stew, but I don't think I've ever had moose pie. I'll have to send my sister the recipe."
"I'm glad you like it," Beth replied between bites. Food stuck in her throat, and she remembered she hadn't set out any beverage. "I'll get us something to drink. What would you like?"
"It doesn't much matter to me. Whatever you had planned is fine," August answered.
"I have some powdered lemonade that one of the soldiers traded me for pies. I fixed a batch this morning, and it ought to be good and cold by now."
"That sounds good."
Beth smiled and went to fix the gla.s.ses and juice. Once this was accomplished, she sat back down to face the unnerving silence.
"I think the boys have grown a foot taller," August said as he ate.
"Yes," Beth replied. "I'm going to have to get them new mukluks this fall."
"Say, I saw some dandy native-made ones just down the road. There's a small village not far from where the highway is going through, and a bunch of us went over to check out the situation and found a wealth of handmade goods."
"It would certainly be great to buy something without worrying about ration stamps. Is it too far to walk?" Beth questioned.
"I wouldn't think so," August said, trying to remember the exact distance. "But maybe you could get someone to run you over, just to be on the safe side. I'll talk to Ralph and see if I can borrow one of the vehicles and drive you there myself."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to take you away from your work," Beth replied.
"It wouldn't take me away from anything," August insisted. "I've been given a couple days off due to the long hours I've been putting in. I'll see what I can do and let you know."
"All right," she reluctantly agreed.
The silence returned to hang between them like an impenetrable veil. Even August s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably and nervously picked at his food. Finally, he put his fork down, folded his hands, and eased back against his chair.
"I have something to say," he began.
"I thought you might," Beth answered and put her own fork down.
August gazed across the table, allowing himself several moments to take in the vision of Beth's beauty. Beth's pale blond hair was pulled back from her face, revealing high cheekbones and soft white skin. Her blue eyes seemed to grow larger under August's stare.
"I don't know all the sweet words or wily ways that men work with women, but what I have to say comes from the heart. While I've been gone I've done a lot of thinking."
"I see," Beth murmured.
"No, I don't think you do," August said softly. "I mostly thought of you. And, of course, the boys." August waited for Beth to make some reply, but she only lowered her eyes.
"I guess I came to realize how important you were to me. I found myself thinking of you and how wonderful you felt in my arms. I thought of the boys and how they always treat me like their father-how Phillip even calls me 'Daddy.' And I had to explain to you."
"Explain what?" Beth asked.
"I love you, Beth. I think I've loved you for a long time, but since I've never been in love, I just didn't recognize it. I knew you were special to me and the boys were always great, but it wasn't until I had to spend a long time away from you, from all of you, that I realized how important you were to me."
"What exactly do you mean?"
"I want to marry you, Beth. I know you're still mourning JB's pa.s.sing, but I can wait for you. I want to help you make a new life, and I want to be a father to your children and to have more children, together."
Beth wasn't surprised at August's declaration, but neither was she prepared for the proposal. Shadows fell across the room as the sun continued its journey west, and Beth got up to turn on the lights.
August waited impatiently for her to say something, anything that might let him know how she felt. He watched Beth come back to the table and stand behind her chair.
"When I learned that JB was joining the air force, something inside me came undone. Phillip was just a baby, and Gerald wasn't much out of diapers. I cried when JB told me that he would have to go away and that once his training was completed, he'd be sent to Europe immediately. He told me it might be years before we saw each other again, and a part of me died." Beth drew a deep breath before continuing.
"JB
" 'Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.' That's Proverbs 3:5," Beth said.
"Yes, I know," August replied with a nod. "Go on."
"Well, that was the verse G.o.d led me to. I kept wanting to trust my own understanding about things. I reasoned that I had it all figured out. After all, G.o.d had sent me a wonderful Christian husband and two beautiful sons. I didn't have any reason to believe that all wouldn't be well, but in my heart I had a gnawing fear that wouldn't pa.s.s. When I received notice that JB was dead and knew that my fears were fulfilled, I almost felt relieved. Does that sound strange?"
"Not really," August said and added, "everyone deals with things the best way they can. You were antic.i.p.ating the worst and the waiting is always the hardest part. When the worst that could happen finally happened, you were able to relax, knowing that things were as bad as they were going to get."
"I suppose that's true," Beth said as she gripped the chair back. "I turned my heart and soul to G.o.d for comfort. There was nothing else to do and no one else to pull me through. Do you understand?" August nodded. "I hold my relations.h.i.+p with Him quite dear. He pulled me through losing JB and kept me sane so that my children didn't suffer from the loss."
"Why are you telling me all this? I already know that you still mourn JB. I wouldn't intrude on that. I only ask to remain close at hand until those feelings pa.s.s."
"That's what I'm trying to say," Beth said softly. "I've already buried the past and JB. He was an important part of my life, but he's in heaven now. I don't have to worry about JB anymore. I miss him occasionally, but those times come rarely now. I've been able to get on with my life, and JB's death is no longer an issue with me. But my love of G.o.d and His Word are."
"I don't understand."
"You have an obvious problem when it comes to fellows.h.i.+p with the Lord. Forgive me if that sounds judgmental, but even Gerald knows that you are alienated from G.o.d. He's come to me before and asked me why you never pray and why you never talk of G.o.d the way I do or the way JB did. He was so tiny when JB went away, but he remembers his father telling him about heaven and G.o.d. Proverbs 20:11 says, 'Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.' It's obvious to those around you that things are not right." Beth saw a shadow of denial pa.s.s through August's eyes.
"I'd love for you to talk to me about what has hurt you and turned you from G.o.d. I'd love to be able to help you through your anger and frustration, but you won't let me. You turn away at every possible opportunity."
"Talking won't resolve anything," August stated firmly.
"And marriage will?"
"I love you, Beth!" August said as he pounded his fist against the table.
"And I love you, August," Beth whispered, ignoring the outburst. "But I can't marry you when your heart isn't right with G.o.d. It would always stand between us and eventually divide us. I can't serve two masters, and I won't give up G.o.d."
"The verse about two masters referred to money," August said stiffly, remembering Luke 16:13.
"The verse says, 'No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve G.o.d and mammon.' I think it works in this situation as well," Beth said with a gentle tone.
"I can't hold fast to raising my sons as Christians who will respect the Word and fellows.h.i.+p with believers when their father denies the need. I can't love you and serve you properly as your wife, and hold onto my faith and serve G.o.d as well. Sooner or later, the two will clash, and the battleground will be our home. Would you really have the lives claimed be those of your adopted sons and wife?"
August stared in silence. Beth had forced him to face the one thing he'd refused to admit for so long. How could he explain to her that he'd faced such disappointment that he was no longer certain that he wanted G.o.d's will?
"Look," Beth continued, feeling suddenly strengthened, "G.o.d has a purpose in all of this, and I believe He has sent us to one another for a special reason. Maybe it's to help each of us deal with the past and the sorrows we've faced. Maybe not. But I know that this problem must be dealt with before we can marry. Do you understand?"
"I don't know," August said as he folded his arms against his chest. "I just don't know. It's all well and fine to use this as a reason to turn me away, but are you sure there isn't something more? You said you love me, was that true?"
"Yes," Beth said, nodding. "I love you very much."
"Then why not trust G.o.d to work everything out after we're married?"
"Because we're both old enough to know it doesn't work that way. August, I would love to marry you. Believe me, I don't like being alone, and I hate the fact that my boys have you only as a friend and not their father. I want us to be a family as much as you do, but I want us to be a family under the hand of G.o.d. If we married now, that wouldn't be the case, would it?"
August's dark eyes narrowed, and he clenched his jaw tightly. "If that's the way you want it, then I'll leave. I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you and your children."
August turned on his heel and stormed through the house. Beth followed after him, wis.h.i.+ng she could say something that would stop him from leaving her in anger. "I love you, August," she whispered as he opened the screen door.
"But not enough," August replied. He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the drive.
Tears streamed down Beth's face as she watched the man she loved walk out of her life. "It's not enough without G.o.d, August," she whispered. "It would never be enough without Him."
Chapter 9.
August faced each new day with bitterness and trepidation. The highway project kept his hands busy, but his mind continued to be haunted by images of the woman he'd left behind.
He was angry with Beth and with G.o.d, but mostly with himself. He knew he'd disappointed Gerald and Phillip by leaving without a word, especially after promising them such a grand day of fis.h.i.+ng and storytelling. It grieved him that he was causing them pain. Why did life have to be so difficult?
From time to time, as news trickled in about the progress of the war, August felt his anger rekindled. He should have been one of the troops. If only G.o.d would have worked things out for him and heard his prayers. If only G.o.d cared.
Every day, August operated machinery, issued orders, and helped to a.s.sess progress. While he knew the job demanded his undivided attention, his mind incessantly wandered.
Log bridges were built to cross the multiple rivers and creeks, but the problem of boggy, wet ground made progress slow and uncertain. Riverbanks had to be reinforced to hold the bridges, and while gravel was readily available, the waterlogged land seemed to have an insatiable appet.i.te. Load after load of rock was brought in to stabilize that which refused to be stable.
Danger lurked behind every tree, and each new and unexplored position placed the highway crew in jeopardy. Despite difficulty and hards.h.i.+p, the highway was steadily becoming reality. August wondered what he would do when the road work was completed.
Ralph Greening expected him to stay on and work for the Public Roads Administration. There were plans to make continued road improvements and to see to it that eventually the Alaskan/Canadian Military Highway would be more than a mud trail through the wilderness. But even for the promise of a secure job, August didn't know if he could live close to Beth and the boys and not be part of their lives.
August tried to put such thoughts from his mind as he joined his crew. Rains had slowed progress, and after a two-day dry spell, every man available was out on the road making up time. Testing the ground, August grimaced. It remained spongy from the deluge, and such conditions only added to the danger of the situation.
August climbed aboard a Caterpillar tractor and started his s.h.i.+ft with great reluctance. His duties seemed meaningless, and his life once again held no purpose. But there were tree stumps to be removed and the road to be graded.
Paying little attention to the twenty-ton machine he maneuvered, August wasn't aware of how precariously close he had come to the edge of a sheer drop. His mind was too preoccupied to notice the ledge giving way, and by the time he recognized the danger, it was too late. In a ma.s.s of rubble and a cloud of diesel smoke, the machine slid down the embankment. All August could do was hold on.
It seemed an eternity of bouncing, pitching, and turning. Then the tractor came to rest on its side, pinning August beneath.
August felt the warmth of his own blood as it gushed from a cut above his left eye. He tried to a.s.sess the situation, but his mind was clouded and dull, and his eyes refused to stay open. He struggled to move his arms, but any movement was impossible.
I have to get out of this, August thought. He strained against the weight that pinned him firmly against the ground. He could feel cold, boggy dampness against his back, and he tried to remember if a lake or pond sat near where he'd been grading. His mind offered only hazy memories.
He heard voices overhead and knew his men would come to his aid. It was hard to figure out just where they were and how soon he could expect relief, but just hearing them gave him comfort.
"Why is this happening, G.o.d?" August wondered aloud. "Why must I suffer these torments and pains?" As it became a monumental effort just to breathe, August fell silent.
Minutes or maybe hours pa.s.sed as August faded in and out of consciousness. He thought he heard people working overhead, but the roar in his head made it impossible to know for certain.
"August. August," a voice called out, and though he couldn't see the face, August answered.
"I'm here! I'm under here!"
"I know where you are. August, do you trust me to get you out?"
What a strange question, August thought. Why would anyone ask me that?
"I don't know who you are," August replied, "but if you can help to get me out of here, I'd be much obliged."
"August, do you believe in me?" the voice whispered.
August shook his head. "What are you talking about? Just get me out of this. I'll believe you, shake your hand, dance a jig, whatever you want. Just get me out from under this thing!"
August knew his words sounded harsh and ungrateful, but this man was beginning to bother him.