[Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm by Janette Oke Page B

to share the big house. There was no one else in the typing pool she had any interest in asking to share the unusual arrangement. That meant it had been decided for her. Now she must not put it off any longer. She had to talk with Mr. Kingsley. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and picked up her steno pad. She didn’t expect to need it, but it was something to hang on to.
    “Come,” called the gruff voice when she rapped on the door.
    Christine steeled herself and entered. “Mr. Kingsley?”
    He lifted his head. “Ahh,” he said, tossing aside his pencil. “You’ve finally finished praying.”
    Christine nodded.
    “Didn’t think God was ever going to answer,” he went on with a sly grin.
    Christine did not share his amusement.
    “Sit down,” he offered, waving toward a chair.
    Christine did.
    “I take it from your face that the answer is no.”
    She nodded dumbly.
    He seemed to think about that for some time before he pushed away from his desk and rocked back in his chair.
    “Just out of curiosity,” he said, studying her face, “why wouldn’t He let you? I mean—I had no ulterior motive—except a few good meals. You’re young enough to be my daughter—surety He didn’t think I’d have designs on you. If I wanted another wife, there are lots of them out there. So why not?”
    “He didn’t say—I mean ... perhaps He did ... in a way. I just couldn’t feel comfortable about it. I know that ... that your house is beautiful and your offer was out of kindness. But it ... it just didn’t feel ... right. I don’t think people would understand, and I didn’t want ... I couldn’t risk possibly damaging the name of my parents—or my God—just to get something better ... for me.”
    He seemed to think about what she had said, weighing it carefully. He reached out to pick up his pencil and began to roll it between finger and thumb. “So ... you think my offer would be better for you.”
    “Oh yes,” said Christine quickly. “You’ve such a beautiful home, and I could have cooked ... anything. Everything. It would have ...” But she stopped uncertainly. She did not want him to misunderstand. “I’m sorry,” she finally stammered.
    “I’m not.” He began to tap the pencil. “I was afraid you scorned my offer. That you felt it insulting. That ... that riled me a bit. But now I see that ... well ... that you made your decision for another reason. I don’t share your views about God. But I can respect you for sticking to what you believe. I’m disappointed ... of course. But ...” He shrugged his massive shoulders and pulled his chair closer to his desk.
    She knew she had just been dismissed.
    “Miss Delaney,” he called after her when she was almost to the door. “Should you ever change your mind ...” He let the sentence drop. Christine gave a slight nod.
    She had her hand on the doorknob when he called again. “And bring me in another pencil. This fool thing’s worn down to the quick.”

CHAPTER Six

    The location of the detachment had not been chosen because it was a large or prominent prairie town. Its claim to an RCMP office was its central position in the area that needed to be patrolled. Amid miles and miles of stark prairie and more miles of empty foothills sat this little town, directly in the middle. The distances no longer had to be covered on horseback—though Henry knew there would be days during the winter when he would long once more for a good dog team and a sled. Many roads, in the best of weather, posed difficulty even for the high-built Fords. He dreaded the winter storms and spring rains. But they’d have to deal with those when the times came. For the moment it was enough to face and manage what came up day by day.
    He rubbed at the tension in the back of his neck. Though it had been a routine day—which to a police officer was always an advantage—he still had reports to write up. He was hungry, but the thought of food at the local café did not