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Beth could feel his warm breath against her neck as August spoke. She wanted very much to get away from the loneliness that threatened to strangle her, but she was also afraid of the feelings that were building in her heart.
"I'm not sure it would be wise," Beth finally whispered.
August very gently turned her to face him. He gazed deep into her eyes just before he lowered his lips to press a gentle kiss upon Beth's mouth. When she didn't protest, he pulled her close and held her for several minutes.
"Now, you were saying?" August asked as he pulled slightly away and lifted Beth's face to meet his stare.
"I don't know what to say," Beth answered.
"Just speak what's on your heart," August urged. He wanted so much to hear Beth say something that would indicate her interest in him.
"That's not always an easy thing to do, August."
"No, maybe not," August said, gently stroking Beth's cheek with his thumb. "But it's always the best."
"I'm afraid." Beth's words were barely audible.
"Of me?" August questioned, hurt showing on his face.
"No," Beth replied. "I'm afraid of myself. Afraid of trusting too much, caring too much, needing too much."
"Don't be," August said, kissing Beth's hand and holding it close to his heart. "Just tell me what you started to say. Tell me what you want."
"Stay," Beth murmured. "I want you to stay."
Chapter 6.
Days later, Beth sat considering her situation. There was, of course, the constant threat of war hanging over like an ever-present storm cloud. Added to this was the continual demands of the roadhouse and the responsibility of raising two boys without a father.
Her sons concerned her most, along with the fact that Beth was finally admitting how much she missed the companionship of a husband.
She hadn't realized how lonely she was until the night August had held her and kissed her. It was hard to admit to loneliness with hundreds of uniformed men and civilians milling up and down the path that ran in front of her roadhouse, but Beth was lonely. August only made that fact more evident.
True to his promise, August had accompanied her and the boys to Sunday school and church. He had appeared aloof and uncomfortable during the worship service, but he said nothing and acted as though he were simply preoccupied. Afterward, they'd enjoyed a wonderful summer afternoon, picnicking, fishing, and simply enjoying each other's company.
It was hard not to think about those moments with August, as well as their first kiss. Beth had made it very clear to August that she wanted him to stay. What she hadn't said was that she needed him to stay; she needed his company and his friendship in a way she couldn't begin to explain.
August had wanted Beth to talk about her feelings, but how could she when she scarcely understood them herself? And what about the issue of why August was avoiding G.o.d? There was a great deal about August Eriksson that Beth didn't understand, and those issues were important enough to her so that she wanted to go slow.
Beth pulled out her ledger books and tried to concentrate on the numbers. She made it through one or two lines before her thoughts drifted off. Suddenly, she was a million miles away from balancing the roadhouse books.
August's appearance in her life had brought so many benefits. The relationship he shared with her sons was a precious friendship that filled some of the void their father's death had created.
Phillip and Gerald accepted August as if he'd been JB returning from the war. It didn't matter to them, even after countless explanations, that August wasn't their daddy. Phillip refused to call him anything else, and often Gerald slipped up and referred to him that way. Beth found it increasingly acceptable for her boys to use the t.i.tle, and when Gerald put JB's picture in the china cupboard, she realized he was symbolizing an end to his need for JB's memory.
Beth couldn't explain why she didn't fight the action or why it seemed perfectly natural to share her meals and spare time with a man she barely knew. But for the first time in months, her boys were happy, and neither one had bad dreams or moped around looking for a man who would never come home.
Looking down at her hand, Beth suddenly realized that she'd nearly twisted her wedding ring off her finger. She stared at the band for a moment, then pulled it off quickly and put it in the desk drawer. JB was gone, and August was here. Perhaps it was time to deal with the matter head on.
Giving up on the ledgers, Beth made her way through the house picking up toys and misplaced items. What a difference one year made! Where once baby rattles and teething rings had dotted the counters, now blocks and trucks sprouted up. Her babies had grown up so fast that it left Beth aching for the feel of holding them close. Perhaps she'd have more children one day.
The thought stunned her. She hadn't considered remarrying until August came into her life, and now she was contemplating a larger family. Maybe August wouldn't want more children.
"Stop it!" Beth said aloud. "I can't think this way. I've got myself married off and having more children, and all to a man I scarcely know!" The empty house absorbed her words, perfectly content to keep her secrets.
Outside, a summer storm was brewing. Beth could hear thunder rumble in the distance. She fought the urge to cry. Things weren't going badly at all, so why did she feel so blue?
The boys were spending the day in town with the woman who led their Sunday school cla.s.s at the small interdenominational church. Mrs. Miller was a pleasant woman with graying hair and a grandmotherly shape. Being a widow of several years as well as childless, Mrs. Miller had aligned herself with Beth.
She was particularly fond of Phillip and Gerald, and when the older widow had invited the boys for lunch at her house, Beth had agreed, understanding Mrs. Miller's need. Now, however, Beth reconsidered. The house seemed empty and far too quiet.
Beth sighed. What was wrong with her? She had but to look out her front window and see more activity than most small towns could boast.
The path was being widened to meet road specifications, and Beth could count on no less than twenty different men pounding on her front door daily, seeking everything from water to food to permission to use the privy. She caught on, only after August informed her, that most of the men were doing it to have a chance to talk to the handsome widow of Gantry Roadhouse.
Beth blushed crimson as she remembered August's laughing eyes and boyish grin. He was amused that she had been too naive to figure it out for herself.
"You're a beautiful woman, Beth Hogan," he had said, "and most of these men haven't had the opportunity to see, much less visit with, a woman of any kind since leaving the States and being a.s.signed to this wilderness. Women are mighty scarce up here, so you might as well get used to being popular."
Beth had feared August would think she'd done something to encourage the attention, but he never spoke of it and never seemed to mind when the boys told stories of visiting strangers.
The highway had been excellent for business, and because of this and the workers' avid interest, Beth could boast a lengthy list of men who were waiting their turn to take residence in her boarding-house. Many of these made the excuse of checking on the availability of rooms and stayed on talking of the weather, the highway, or anything else that would delay their return to work.
Yet Beth was still lonely, and she couldn't understand why.
The clock in the hall chimed two, and Beth realized that her cakes were ready to come out of the oven. She had doubled up on baking, knowing that the next day would be devoted to washing clothes and linens, a job that always took an entire day. Often she was still hanging laundry after August arrived home.
Hurrying to the kitchen, Beth pulled out two cake pans along with an experimental recipe she was trying. The sourdough coffeecake, complete with berries and honey, looked every bit as good as it smelled, and Beth was hopeful that its flavor would match its appearance.
Silently, Beth thanked G.o.d for the endless supply of honey that one of her bachelor neighbors provided in exchange for mending and sewing. The older man seemed more than happy to give Beth all the honey she could use and even happier to spend time visiting and telling the boys tales of the old days when he'd lived off the land and searched for gold.
Beth realized that, because of such generosity and bartering for goods, she and the boys scarcely felt the effects of rationing that the war had made necessary. G.o.d had been truly good to them.
When her baking was completed, Beth was amazed to realize she still had almost two hours to pa.s.s before the boys and August would be home. August had agreed to pick the boys up at Mrs. Miller's house in order to spare either of the ladies from making the trip. At the time, Beth couldn't find any reason not to accept his offer. Now she wished she had a reason to take the long stroll into town.
Heaving a sigh, Beth decided to stop feeling sorry for herself. Instead, she would cook a special meal for her family's return. Putting her hands to work usually occupied her mind as well. Hopefully working on dinner would make the afternoon pa.s.s more quickly.
She thoughtfully chose foods that she knew everyone was fond of. Smoked salmon would be their meat, and for a side dish, Beth blended new potatoes, fresh green beans, and pieces of side meat. For dessert, they'd try her new berry coffeecake, a sure way, Beth decided, to know whether or not it was acceptable.
She was just finishing the table setting, using her finest tablecloth and wedding china, when she heard the boys' nonstop chatter as they drew near home. What a beautiful sound, Beth thought. She was so used to the constant noise of the road construction that when the men had stopped for supper, Beth hadn't noticed.
She was grateful that the army was taking time away from the project to have their own evening meal. No doubt with the added hours of light there'd soon be another shift at work, but for now Beth was going to thoroughly enjoy the noise that her sons raised and the words that August Eriksson would share at her dinner table.
"Mommy!" Gerald hollered as he came through the door. August followed with Phillip on his shoulders.
Beth smiled and welcomed Gerald into her arms. "Did you have a good time at Mrs. Miller's house?"
"Uh-huh," Gerald said and held up a small sack. "We made cookies, and Mrs. Miller said we could bring them home."
"How nice of her," Beth said, and turned her attention from Gerald to Phillip. "And how about you, buster? Did you have a good time?"
"Had fun," Phillip answered. "Got to ride on Daddy."
"And I believe this child is eating too much," August said as he lifted Phillip over his head and placed him on the ground. "Well, well. What's all this?" he said as he noticed the table.
"I just thought something special might be nice," Beth answered. "I had so much time on my hands with the boys gone. I never knew a body could get so lonely."
August offered a tender smile, and Beth quickly turned her face away to avoid feeling the impact of his clear eyes. "You boys, go wash your hands and we'll sit down to dinner."
Handing his mother the cookies, Gerald scurried off to the washroom with Phillip close behind. Both boys were giggling and chattering all the way, leaving Beth with a much lighter heart.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," August said as he paused before following the boys. "I just don't like to think of you lonely. Seems like such a waste, especially when so many enjoy your company."
Beth wondered if it was her imagination or August's feelings that caused her to read more into his statement.
When August and the boys returned from washing up, Beth allowed August to seat her while the boys scampered into their a.s.signed places.
"Who wants to say grace?" Beth questioned.
"I will!" Gerald said enthusiastically.
"All right, Gerald," Beth said, nodding in agreement. "You go right ahead."
"G.o.d, this is Gerald again," the boy began. "I sure do like living in Alaska 'cause You sent us a lot of great people and we're having fun here. G.o.d, Mommy told me to pray about a daddy for Phillip and me, so I'm praying about it. I like August, G.o.d, and I really want him to be my daddy. So if it's okay with You, me and Phillip will take him. Amen."
"What about the food, son?" August questioned softly, noticing that Beth's head was still bowed.
"Oh, yeah," Gerald said and quickly bowed his head again. "Thanks for the food, G.o.d. I really like fish. Amen."
August was grinning when Beth raised her gaze to meet his. She grew more beautiful with each pa.s.sing day, and August heartily agreed with Gerald's prayers that they become a family.
Beth handed Phillip's plate to August. "If you would serve the salmon," she motioned, "I would appreciate it."
August nodded and filled the plates as they were pa.s.sed to him. He liked acting as the head of the family, and he enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the company he kept.
Supper pa.s.sed much too quickly. "I suppose I should be going," August said, getting up. Beth's roadhouse was set up so that the ten boarding rooms all faced north or west and had individual entrances facing the outside.
"Can't he read us a story?" Gerald asked with pleading eyes.
"Please?" Phillip questioned.
"That's up to August," Beth said as she began to gather the dishes. "It's all right with me, August, if you want to read to them."
"I'd be happy to," August said, grateful for the excuse to remain close at hand. He followed the boys down the hall to their bedroom, giving Beth a quick smile over his shoulder.
Beth felt her pulse quicken. What would it be like to have August join her for the evening every night after putting their children to bed? It had been so long since she'd known the warmth and comfort of a man's company. Was it wrong for her to think of such things?
"Well, that didn't take long," August said as he came into the kitchen. "They're nearly asleep."
"Thank you for everything," Beth said, and tried to think of how she could express her grat.i.tude for August's indulgence of their fatherly references. "I appreciate your patience with them. I've asked them not to call you Daddy," she paused, embarra.s.sed as she remembered Gerald's prayer. "But they love you so much."
"I'm sure that they loved their father a great deal. They're just showing me what they can't show him."
"It's more than that. JB was a soldier first. He was so bent on serving his country and being a hero," Beth said as she finished drying the dishes. She didn't see August bite his lip at her words.
"Don't get me wrong," she said, turning to face him. "JB was a good man and a fine father. He loved children and we were planning to have a half a dozen or more, but his need to serve someone else or something else took him away from us. I don't blame him or resent him for his decision, but I don't think I'll ever understand the feelings that drive a man to leave his family and die a world away from those who love him."
"It's a powerful drive indeed," August said softly. "I'm sure JB felt proud, and in his heart he knew that he was offering his children the best he had. He gave his life that others might live free."
"Much like Christ gave His life for us," Beth said, startling August.
"I suppose that's true," he agreed. "If Christ felt it necessary to come on our behalf and give His life, then maybe you can understand JB's desire to offer what he could for those he loved."
"Maybe you're right," Beth said as she considered August's words. "Jesus certainly loves us more than we can comprehend."
August looked uncomfortable, so Beth decided to say no more. "I'd better go," August finally said. "I'll have to be up pretty early, so don't worry about breakfast. I'll get something in town."
"All right," Beth said and watched as August walked quietly from the house. She whispered a prayer that August would find a way through whatever problem was causing him to feel alienated from G.o.d's peace.
August made his way to his room. Even though it was still light outside and would be for many hours, August closed the heavy shutters and prepared for bed. It was warm enough that he wouldn't need to light the stove.
He lay awake for a long time, thinking about the things Beth had said and how she constantly tried to steer him back to G.o.d. His conscience bothered him as he thought of the truth that he continued to deny.
G.o.d clearly wanted his attention, but August wasn't inclined to let go of his bitterness. G.o.d still hadn't listened to the desires of August's heart, and because of that, August questioned what purpose faith served.
As he drifted into a fitful sleep, August remembered how his inability to get into the army brought him to both his important job with the highway and Beth Hogan. One door had closed while another had opened and shown him a new way of life. But where did G.o.d fit in?
Chapter 7.
With the boys busy playing in the backyard tree house, Beth took a moment out of her morning ch.o.r.es to enjoy a hot cup of coffee and a letter from her friend, Karen Sawin.
Karen shared bits of information, including the news that her husband had suffered an injury and was being sent home. Beth wished she could be there to help her friend, but travel was nearly impossible because of the war.