Heart of the Wilderness (31 page)
Kendra had expected her trip back to the wilderness to be one that filled her heart with joy. It would be so good to see her grandfather. Wonderful to visit Nonie again. A treat to be welcomed by Oscar. But there was little joy in Kendra’s heart as she packed her small cases, crated her acquired belongings, and boarded the boat for the first leg of the journey.
Had she done the right thing? Would she one day be sorry? Would it be purely selfish for her to stay?
She thought again of her grandfather—and of Nonie. Of their need to learn of the God Kendra had come to love. But couldn’t she just tell them and then return to the city? Back to Reynard? Kendra longed with all of her being to come back.
“No. No,” she told her weeping heart. “I can’t. I just can’t leave Papa Mac all alone again.”
“It won’t be long now, Oscar,” said George. The dog team was gathered on the shore to wait for the incoming wagon bringing supplies to the post. And along with the supplies, Kendra was coming home. George had debated about bringing the canoe to transport Kendra back to their little cabin. It would have been much faster. But he had harnessed Kendra’s dog team to the wagon-sled with Oscar in the lead and taken the overland trail. He knew the big dog would be almost as glad to see Kendra again as he himself.
So they stood together and waited, the dust in the distance announcing the coming of the supply wagon. She was almost home.
“It’s been a long winter, hasn’t it, boy?” George spoke further to the dog, his fingers curling in the long silky neck hair of the animal, then twining around and uncurling again. “Long—and miserable. But that’s over now. She’s almost home.”
Oscar responded with a whine, his tail scattering dry leaves as it swept the ground and he looked up into the face of the tall bearded man who towered above him.
“You know—I think you sense that something is about to happen. Something out of the ordinary.”
Oscar whined again.
The wagon drew closer. George squinted his eyes and tried to pick out Kendra. There was a blur of color on the wagon. The freight hauler had more than one passenger.
“Sure hope she’s on there,” he mused more to himself than the dog.
But with a quick move, Oscar jerked from his hand and ran excitedly toward the approaching wagon.
“Oscar!” called George. “Oscar!” But the dog paid no attention.
George heard a frequent sharp yip as the dog closed the distance to the approaching team.
“Sure hope he don’t go and spook those horses,” George muttered as he followed absently after the dog. “Well—one thing’s for sure. She’s on there.”
Just as George spoke the words a figure disengaged herself from the wagon and dropped to the ground, then fell to her knees. Kendra reached out her arms just as Oscar flung himself at her, nearly knocking her over. George watched as the two of them rocked back and forth, Kendra hugging and Oscar licking and wagging until he nearly exhausted both of them. George swallowed and reached up to wipe unwanted moisture from his eyes. Perhaps the brilliant summer sun was just too bright.
Kendra walked about the familiar cabin, letting her hand run over the rough boards that formed the sparse furniture. She had never realized before just how plain, how bare it was. But it was home, and she was glad to be there. She looked at the pile of crates and cases her grandfather had stacked in the corner of her bedroom, then lifted the top-most box.
“If I hurry I can get it all unpacked before I have to get supper,” she told herself and started at the task. She nearly tripped over Oscar, who refused to let her out of his sight. She reached down to give his head an affectionate pat.
“There’s someone I sure would have liked you to meet,” she murmured to the big dog, and then sighed. In spite of her joy at being home again, there was the shadow of leaving someone behind who might have become very important in her life.
Kendra did not wait to talk about her new faith. She brought up the subject with her grandfather that very night as they sat together after they had shared their simple meal.
“I found what I was looking for, Papa Mac,” she said and noticed that he seemed to draw back.
“I’m glad,” he responded carefully, and he sounded sincere.
“There really is a God,” went on Kendra. “But He is so much more than just an—an unknown Someone out there someplace. He is real and He is personal and He gave us His Word, the Bible, so that we might understand all about Him.”
Her grandfather nodded.
“But we—all of us—have cut ourselves off from Him. Because of sin—because of sinful, selfish choices we make.
George stirred in his chair.
“God said that if Adam and Eve, the first people, sinned they would die. But they chose to sin anyway.” Kendra shook her head. It was almost beyond her comprehension that those two created beings could go ahead and do such a thing when it had been forbidden by God himself.
“The only way God could restore the relationship and have the penalty paid for people’s sin was to send a substitute—a sacrifice. His Son, Jesus.”
George shifted again. “Really, Kendra—” he began, but Kendra wasn’t finished.
“He died for us—in our place. But that’s not—not quite enough,” Kendra hurried on. She wanted to be sure her grandfather had the complete picture before they stopped to discuss her newfound truth.
“We can—”
This time George did stop her. He held up his hand, his signal for silence. Even the dogs did not dare to bark or whine when George McMannus held up his hand in such a fashion.
Kendra silenced, but her eyes were pleading with the big man who sat before her.
“I think we need an understanding here,” said George slowly. “I have let you speak your piece. I am glad you’ve found—what you were looking for. Some people—well, they seem to need—religion.”
Kendra opened her mouth. The words wished to gush forth. She hadn’t needed religion. She needed God. She needed a Savior. Everyone did. But George lifted his hand again and Kendra’s mouth closed.
“Now—I grant you that right,” went on George. “Heaven only knows you have had precious little to cling to in your short lifetime. I grant you that right. But—”
George stopped and ran his fingers through his graying beard. “I don’t, Kendra. I’m—I’m just fine the way I am. I’m not
seeking
. I’m not restless. My soul isn’t looking for answers.”
He stopped again and looked at the young girl.
“Do you understand? Do I make myself clear?”
Kendra nodded, swallowed hard, and blinked back tears. Then she nodded again and lowered her gaze.
“Good,” said the man, and he rose from the table to his full height. “Now, let’s have no more of this serious talk. I want to hear all about your year of university. Come—leave the dishes. Pull your chair up to the fire and let’s visit.”
Kendra picked up her chair and crossed the short distance to the fireplace. George pulled his chair up beside her, and Oscar crowded in between the two.
George reached down a hand and stroked the big dog.
“We’ve missed you so much,” he admitted. “Oscar and I—we been ’bout to drive each other crazy. It’s good to have you back, girl. Mighty good to have you back.”
When Kendra lay in her bed that night, her grandfather’s soft snoring reaching her from the room beyond and Oscar curled up close beside her bed on the bearskin rug, she thought again of the earlier conversation. Large tears formed in her eyes and trickled down to her pillow. She had hoped so much that her grandfather would respond to her words. Had prayed for so many months that she would be able to say the right thing—in the right way. But it hadn’t turned out that way. Not at all.
“Perhaps it will take time,” she whispered to herself in the darkness. “I must be patient—and obedient—and show him—prove to him that it’s real.”
But Kendra still felt sorrow. She was concerned about her grandfather. What if something happened to him before she had a chance to live her new life before him, before he had opportunity to see that faith in God was real—and obtainable?
Early the next morning Kendra and Oscar headed out for the little settlement. She had to see Nonie. All the way along the trail that led through the tall pines and spruce, Kendra prayed.
“Help me to be wiser with Nonie, Father,” she kept praying. “Help me to say things so she will understand. So she will accept.”
When she reached Nonie’s small cabin, she opened the door and called out as she always did. There was a stirring in the far corner where the furs were piled to form a bed.
“Amo-chika?” called Nonie in a weak voice.
“Yes—it’s me,” replied Kendra and hurried to the elderly woman.
Kendra fell on her knees beside the bed and wrapped her arms around Nonie’s frail body.
Nonie reached with a trembling hand and felt the girl’s face, her hair. Kendra realized with a painful wrench in her heart that the old woman no longer could see.
“Oh, Nonie,” she cried, “I am so glad to see you.”
Nonie answered with words of her own tongue—soft, clucking, contented words that reminded Kendra of a hen gathering her chicks to the safety of her wings.
“You’re back,” Nonie said in English.
“I’m back,” said Kendra.
“When you go again?” asked the old woman.
“No. I’m not going again,” said Kendra firmly. “Papa Mac needs me here.”
Nonie said nothing. The sightless eyes turned toward the smoked wooden ceiling. She uttered more words in her own tongue.
“Nonie,” said Kendra, sitting back on her heels and taking the old familiar hands in her own, “I made the most amazing discovery when I was gone. All those stories you told me—about how the world was made—about the spirits—the good ones who help us and the evil ones that try to harm us—well, it’s true. I mean—there really are good and evil spirits.”
Nonie nodded silently. It was not news to her.
“But there is only
one
God,” went on Kendra. “One God who made everything. And Mother Earth, she didn’t make us.
God
did. He made the earth too. Everything. He is the one and only God. There aren’t gods in the rocks or gods in the hills or gods in the bear or mountain lion.”