Where Hope Prevails

  © 2016 by Janette Oke and Laurel Oke Logan

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-2991-5

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  List of Characters

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  About the Authors

  Books by Janette Oke and Laurel Oke Logan

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Characters

  The Thatcher Family

  Beth—Elizabeth Thatcher

  Mother—Priscilla Thatcher

  Father—William Thatcher

  Julie—Beth’s younger sister

  Margret, John, and JW Bryce—Beth’s older, married sister and family

  Others

  Jarrick “Jack” Thornton—a Mountie and Beth’s suitor

  Molly McFarland Russo—owner of the boarding house

  Frank Russo—retired miner who married Molly in Where Trust Lies

  Teddy Boy and Marnie—orphaned teenagers adopted by Molly

  Philip Davidson—pastor and longtime friend of Jarrick

  Robert Harris Hughes—new schoolteacher

  Prologue

  Dearest Molly,

  Today I purchased my ticket for the long train ride from Toronto, across the miles of open prairie, to Lethbridge, and then I’ll endure once more the long hours by automobile to your welcome village—my heart’s second home. I’m not afraid of the journey this time, I’m pleased to tell you. So much has changed in me since that original teaching assignment. The rather frail and inexperienced Elizabeth Thatcher who arrived over a year ago in Coal Valley is now a different woman altogether. I feel I’ve proven myself somewhat, and grown more courageous. At least, I do hope so.

  Can it truly be only a long summer since I said good-bye to you, my students, and all my friends in Coal Valley? I find myself pacing the carpeted halls of Father’s grand house with impatience, yearning instead for my simple life with all of you. I can almost hear your hearty laughter at me as you read such a thought. But you of all people know what I mean, Molly, since you have your own deep roots in our beautiful valley.

  This time, though, I realize more fully how much I will miss my parents and my beloved sisters. Julie has begged Father time and again to join me for more than a visit, but so far he and Mother have not given in to her pleadings. She’s still impetuous and strong-willed, as you know from meeting her, but we love her dearly for all her passions. Margret accepts the inevitability of my departure with solemn resignation. She and John will soon have their hands full with their second child. If only I could scoop up my little nephew, JW, and fit him in a suitcase! Nevertheless, I’m filled with joy at the thought of returning after this time away—and of seeing you, my dear friend, so much like a second mother to me. I feel I do not lack family there with you.

  Molly, I know you’ve already heard reports that we had some very difficult days during the last part of the summer, when our lovely cruise came to a sudden and dreadful end. I so wished to talk with you during the awful time when we didn’t know where our darling Julie was. You probably have not heard, though, that Nick, the young man who instigated her kidnapping, was someone we thought to be a friend. It was all carried out with the aid of two young women on board that Julie befriended. They seemed trustworthy enough. (I can feel my hand tremble as I write.) Our suffering during the days of Julie’s disappearance was nearly unbearable. I must admit that my own faith was shaken. I’m not altogether proud of my responses, but I believe I’ve grown. Thank the good Lord she was found safe!

  I have room only to mention how grateful I was to see Edward Montclair and Jack Thornton, our stalwart Mounties, coming swiftly to our aid. I’m full of thanksgiving to the Lord for the wisdom He gave them in discovering where Julie had been taken. Their services turned the tide, indeed.

  Though I feel propriety requires I keep my comments here brief, no doubt you’ve long suspected my growing affinity for Jack. (Yes, I still address him in person by his given name, Jarrick—though perhaps his mother and I are the only ones who do!) How can I express the comfort I’ve gained from having his strong, protective presence during our crisis?

  Sadly, I suppose we must remind ourselves there is danger everywhere—I haven’t forgotten that it appeared even in Coal Valley with Davie Grant and his bootlegging crimes, touching many of my students, children whom I dearly love—even your Marnie and Teddy Boy. Thank the Lord again they are safe in your care, Molly. Oh yes! And now in Frank’s also. I look forward to congratulating you both on your recent marriage. You and Frank, eloping at your age—like a pair of teenagers! I can’t wait to share more with you when I arrive, on or about the 15th of the month.

  Your devoted friend,

  Beth

  CHAPTER

  1

  IT WASN’T JUST THAT there were far fewer potholes—the road through the thick woods leading to Coal Valley had clearly been graded in Beth’s absence over the summer—but something else seemed strange. The trip still was taking hours as the taxi driver headed west into the foothills and gradually up into the magnificent Rocky Mountains. And every turn in the road meant civilization with its conveniences was left farther behind—no telephones, no doctors, no plumbing or electricity.

  But Beth felt no hesitation at the thought of coming back to Coal Valley. She could already picture Miss Molly standing on the porch of her large boarding house, weathered gray over the years but homey and inviting. Ample home-cooked meals, long conversations in the evenings after the dishes were done, and then up to the cozy room with a thick quilt to burrow under against the cold. Anticipation drew Beth forward, willing away the miles.

  Still, there was something slightly puzzling this time as she looked out at the rugged scenery. Beth was hard-pressed to understand a small tingle of apprehension casting a shadow over her excitement at returning to western Canada.

  She strained forward to grasp the back of the driver’s seat and tentatively asked, “Excuse me, sir, I hate to suggest it, but are you certain this is the right road to Coal Valley?”<
br />
  A snort. “Yes, miss. I been here plenty’a times. Couple more miles, we’re there.”

  Beth fell back against the hard seat, pushed her hat more tightly against her dark hair, and adjusted the long hatpin holding it in place. She hoped she wouldn’t seem too bedraggled by the time she arrived. Will anyone be there to meet me? Miss Molly surely—no, she’s Mrs. Russo now. And her Frank? Or Teddy and Marnie, the other schoolchildren, their mothers? I want to see everyone.

  Brushing at wrinkles in her skirt and adjusting her jacket, Beth scanned the shear mountain faces far above the tree line and the valley below with its meandering river. But neither offered signs of familiarity. The train track, ever present and steadily climbing higher with them, was the only recognizable feature in the scene. Has it been so long that I don’t remember the way any better than this?

  The journey from Toronto to the little mining village clinging to an eastern range of the Rockies had been anything but restful. Beth had grown rather accustomed to the difficulties of train travel—at least she now knew what to anticipate. So it was odd at journey’s end, just as she expected to feel most connected to her western home, that she would feel such a sense of being lost.

  And then as she stared through the dusty window, she noticed the trees . . . they don’t come right up to the road as I remember. Beth cranked the window down partway and peered at the roadside scene flying by. Sure enough, she could make out telltale stumps scattered down in the ditch, their circular tops still creamy yellow after the recent amputation of everything above.

  She leaned forward again. “Why have so many trees been cut down?”

  “Eh?”

  “The trees—so many are cleared away.”

  “They’re gettin’ ready to widen the road and gravel it.” The man chuckled. “Your little town’s growin’ gangbusters, miss. Plenty’a change since you was here last, I guess.”

  Beth nodded and frowned. Not too much, I hope! she thought as she rolled the window up against the dust.

  Already there’d been more than enough frustration and tumult during the last weeks of her summer. Back in Toronto after their cruise through the Maritimes was cut short by Julie’s disappearance, Beth couldn’t help but hope she might be able to share this trip west with Jarrick. Jarrick. Even thinking his name drew a secret smile and made Beth’s face flush.

  Her whole family had effectively fallen in love with him during his short stay with them—even Mother. He had been proudly introduced to their various social circles, paraded out at every opportunity in his bright red Mountie jacket. The flashing smile, copper-colored hair, and tidy mustache—along with those bright blue eyes and quick wit—won him wide approval. And it was more thrilling than Beth could have imagined standing next to him as he towered above her. She allowed herself a hand tucked through his arm and tried not to blush with joy that they were accepted by all as “a courting couple.”

  Only Mrs. Montclair could break the spell, overtly comparing him to Edward and mourning her son’s recent departure. “Well, he was needed in the West again, that’s all. There just aren’t many officers who can fill my Edward’s shoes. They’d be lost without him.”

  Jarrick had merely smiled at the woman, with a discreet wink down at Beth.

  And then came the news that “Miss Thatcher should postpone her return—the School Board is working through some issues regarding Coal Valley’s current situation. We look forward to her return . . .” etc. Beth tried not to imagine what the delay could mean, but it was clear that Jarrick would not be able to wait longer for her deferred departure. They had said a tearful good-bye, and she remained in Toronto without him.

  Three more weeks passed before everything was finally in place for Beth to set out alone. She spent the journey west reading and looking forward to Jarrick meeting her train. However, almost as soon as they had been reunited on the weathered platform of the Lethbridge train station, he had received a handwritten message of an important assignment requiring his hasty departure. It was such a disappointment to them both, especially when they had anticipated a couple of days in the city at the home of friends before Beth continued out to Coal Valley.

  She squinted away tears, thinking again about that long-awaited promised dinner—at their own special Lethbridge restaurant—postponed once again. Life certainly has a way of stealing away precious moments—or at least undermining our plans for them! The very occasion when I was certain Jarrick would propose . . . “Thank You, Father,” she prayed against her frustrations, “that You always understand how I feel and are with me, even when I can’t see Your purposes.” She prayed for Jarrick too—sure that his disappointment with how things had turned out matched hers.

  The car rolled around another curve too quickly for Beth’s comfort. Her short legs made it difficult to keep her feet planted firmly on the floor. Instead she braced an arm against the door, forcing into silence the complaint she would like to have muttered aloud.

  Suddenly a familiar bend in the road and then a path into the woods pulled her focus to the window. We’re close! she exulted silently. We’re almost there! The trees thinned quickly, and her small town came into view. Coal Valley—finally.

  Beth hovered in the shelter of the taxi’s open door while the driver unloaded her trunks and bags onto the short wooden sidewalk. Where am I? She didn’t dare speak the thought aloud, but it was hard to believe this was Coal Valley! Beth’s gaze moved first to a coat of bright white paint on the two broad walls to her left. The mining company hadn’t bothered in the past to dress up its quickly constructed buildings. Now green trim boards traced the front doors and large windows. Even the company name had been spelled out in bold black letters across the front—as if they owned the town itself. Beth wondered to herself if perhaps, in a way, they did.

  On the opposite side of the street, overgrown bushes had been pruned back and flowers planted along the path to what had been the Grants’ saloon—and not so long ago, Beth’s schoolhouse. The former establishment’s sign had been replaced, and Beth smiled at Abigail’s Teahouse in scrolling blue letters.

  Good for you, Abigail. You’ve done it—begun your own business. Beth thought back to the welcome she’d received there a year before. The mothers, most newly widowed, had met in that very building to explain their offer of the teaching position. Clearly they were half expecting Beth to turn tail and run at the very notion of holding school in a pool hall. Yet somehow they had won her heart and her confidence that day. Abigail Stanton had been a strong leader among the women, a source of courage and comfort for them all.

  The community garden next to the tea shop was lush with produce, filling what had been a vacant lot. Perhaps this winter won’t be as difficult as the last, with plenty of food for canning. And next . . . next was Molly’s large boarding house. Home, Beth breathed in relief. At least that hasn’t changed.

  But then she noticed more stumps. They seemed to spring up everywhere—all around. Just past each of the familiar buildings they were lurking, ugly and dead. The forest had been driven back farther from the town’s tiny core. Her smile faded.

  “Miss Thatcher! Miss Thatcher!”

  Beth turned toward an avalanche of children tumbling from the company meeting hall. “Miss Thatcher, you’re back. We missed ya so much.”

  Fourteen-year-old Marnie, almost a younger sister to Beth, was the first to reach her with a warm embrace. “Felt like you’d never get here.”

  The girl’s slim form and narrow face seemed somehow more mature than Beth’s memory of her. Her long brown hair was drawn back with bobby pins. Why, she’s not a child anymore, much more poised. “Darling, I’ve missed you too.”

  Beth was passed from hug to hug, only vaguely aware that a crowd was gathering quickly. Neighbors hurried to join them from every direction as Beth reached for the shoulder or cheek of her students, smiling into each set of bright eyes.

  “Oh my, you’ve all grown so much! What did you do all summer that added so many inche
s?” They laughed with her, calling over each other with their comments and questions.

  “What did you do while you were gone, Miss Thatcher?”

  “Miss Thatcher, we missed you.”

  “Summer’s so long without you.”

  “It seemed like school would never get started!”

  Beth laughed again. “Well, isn’t that just the nicest compliment any teacher could hear!”

  “We’re awful glad yer back, anyhow.”

  Small Anna Kate blurted out, “We got a new schoolroom, Miss Thatcher.”

  “Really? Where . . . ?” But Beth was offered no further information with all the commotion.

  “We got more kids too,” Levi said, tugging at the shirt of another boy, dragging him closer. “This is Mikey. He’s my new friend.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Michael.” Beth looked around her and noticed several other children standing farther away whom she didn’t recognize. “I’m so pleased to meet all of you,” she said with a wave and smile. “I’m sure we’ll get to know one another very soon.”

  Anna Kate was pulling on her arm. “Come see our new classroom. The company gived us their building fer a school. ’Cause they builded a new one down at the river. Come see, Miss Thatcher.”

  Breathlessly, Beth followed the excited group toward the meeting hall, where they had already shared so many times for club meetings, school performances, and church. A proper classroom this year! It doesn’t sound much like the mine company I know. I’ll have to make a point of thanking Mr. Gowan.

  Catching sight of Molly waiting at the fringe of the crowd, Beth almost ran toward her. The woman’s plump arms spread wide, a smile crinkling the softened skin around her eyes. Her thinning hair had collected even more gray threads among the dark strands, but the faded and mended housedress was surely the same. Beth leaned into the embrace. I should have thought to bring fabric for a new dress or two. I’ll get some from Lethbridge for her the next time I’m there.

  “Welcome home, dearie.” Molly patted her back affectionately. “Awful good ta see ya.”

  Pushing back and cocking her head, Beth said around a smile, “So good to see you too—Mrs. Russo!”