When Tomorrow Comes by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online

invitation to take you back to the North?”
    She saw Elizabeth’s chin tremble. No answer was immediately forthcoming. When she turned to speak once again to her daughter, there were tears in her eyes.
    “It was not easy making a home in the North. But I . . . I grew to love it. I suppose partly because I loved your father so. But I would never claim it was easy. At first I was so lonely. And a bit fearful too. The people were so . . . so different. I didn’t know how to understand them . . . nor could I communicate with them.
    “And then a strange thing happened. At least it seems rather strange when I look back on it. I began to make friends. Not just . . . just acquaintances but real, deep-down friends. I loved the people, Christine. The women. The darling children. And of course there was our precious Sammy. . . .” Elizabeth could not speak for a moment. Christine knew the story of the little Indian boy whom Elizabeth and Wynn had taken into their home and their hearts. And then, much later, his father had returned to claim him. . . . Christine had a lump in her throat as her mother wiped her eyes. But Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued, “Those Indian women’s lives were so . . . so hard. They endured so much.
    “It was hard to leave them. I felt like . . . rather a traitor, actually. I was going back to many comforts. Many amenities. And they . . . they just had to stay where they were— as they were —and cope. I felt like I . . . deserted them.”
    “But you didn’t.”
    Elizabeth raised her head. “When your father was injured and we thought we were going to lose him, something happened inside me. Before . . . before when I was afraid . . . or troubled, I always had him. He was my strength. My comfort. As long as I had that I could go on. But when I thought I might lose him, I realized that I had no strength of my own. Not really. If I lost him . . .”
    Christine reached for her mother’s hand again.
    “The North nearly took him from me, Christine.”
    “But, Mama . . .”
    “I was the one who pushed to get him back to a place that was more civilized. I don’t think your father really wanted to come. He would have stayed right there, injured leg and all, and trekked the miles and camped in the cold and exposed himself to more half-crazy men. I . . . I think his heart is still in the North. If we went back—”
    “I’m going back,” Christine said impulsively. “I don’t blame Dad for feeling that way. For loving it. He was . . . was needed there. Loved. The North was where he belonged.”
    She spoke with such vehemence that both of them were surprised.
    “You are angry with me?” Elizabeth spoke softly.
    Christine stirred on the worn plush seat, her sudden outburst now controlled.
    “I’m not angry. Just . . . just a little upset, I guess. I love the North. You . . . you not only took Dad from it, but us . . . Henry and me too. It . . . it just doesn’t seem fair.”
    Elizabeth toyed with the gloves in her lap. “I guess I did,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry. But no . . . no, I’m not sorry. It was time for you to come out. Both of you. You needed to . . . to learn about the rest of the world. You needed to see things and hear things and—and grow up. And your father. He needed to be able to sleep in a bed at night. To have regular hours of work. To walk around without watching his back.”
    “Walk without ‘watching his back’?” Christine was stirred to remonstrate, “But he was loved. And respected.”
    “By most. Yes. But there were always a few—those who had broken the law and been made to pay for it—who watched for opportunities to . . . well, let’s just say your father had to be very vigilant when out on the trail.”
    “You never said—”
    “Of course we didn’t. We didn’t want to frighten you. But it’s a part of life for a Mountie.”
    “Does Henry. . . ?”
    “If he has made enemies. Yes.”
    “But that’s not fair.”
    “Life is never