The Long Road Home by Lori Wick


  “The only person I missed,” Paul said through bites of cobbler, “was Aaron Johnson.” “Oh, Paul, he was here today,” May Templeton cut in. “He just stayed a few minutes to drop something off. But I told him you were back and introduced him to Ross and Abby.”

  “Well, I’m glad he knows I’m back. Maybe I can speak with him in the morning.”

  “And Joseph said unto them, ‘Fear not; for am I in the place of God?’” These were Paul’s first words in his sermon the next morning. Aaron Johnson had come, and Paul spoke with him. There had been much visiting and sharing which Paul had no intention of interrupting even though they were late starting. As he was coming to expect of these fine people, they made Ross and Abby feel most welcome.

  But now a few songs had been sung and some announcements made and Paul was ready to preach. “The words I just read to you out of Genesis 50 were the words Joseph spoke to his brothers. They are words of forgiveness—forgiveness to these brothers who, in a jealous rage, sold him to a caravan going to Egypt where he was made into a slave.

  “He spent years away from his family, some of those years full of toil and heartache. But when a famine came over the land and he found his own brothers before him asking for food, he took no revenge. And even when their father died and the brothers were sure the time for revenge had come, Joseph spoke these words.

  “I don’t share this verse with you because I liken myself to Joseph. I left of my own accord, in sin against my God. But the forgiveness Joseph showed his brothers is the forgiveness you have shown to me this day.” Paul’s voice broke, and he took a moment to compose himself.

  “There are a few things Joseph and I have in common, and one is that God never left his side as He never left mine. Daily He urged me to surrender my bitterness and hurt, and I fought Him. But lovingly, in a way only God can master, He tenderly broke through my wall of pain, and with the confession of my sins I have full fellowship again.”

  Abby felt a headache coming on in her effort to hold back tears as she watched this man stand open and vulnerable before his flock. Beside her, Ross swallowed convulsively in an effort to remove the clog in his own throat. All around them handkerchiefs were coming out and some people were openly crying. Abby wondered if Paul would be able to continue.

  “I’ll close by repeating what I said about leaving of my own accord and in sin. But again, as Joseph was, I am now in the place where God wants me, and I wouldn’t be were it not for your prayers and forgiveness. For this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  The people stood then and, with Paul leading, most sang the doxology with tears streaming down their faces. Paul looked down as he sang, and Abby saw the way his eyes were filled with peace. She couldn’t contain her tears any longer.

  Sunday dinners were very late that day as everyone stayed for over an hour to visit and share. Abby was invited to join a quilting bee that was to be held the next week. Ross met two young men near his age and they made plans to fish.

  When things began to clear, Paul sent people away with handshakes and hugs. He knew pain and disappointment that Corrine’s parents were not there, and also knew that even though they weren’t on his list, he had to go see them very soon.

  Lloyd and May went on in their buggy, and Ross and Abby stayed with Paul as he locked the church. Descending the church steps, he went right to Ross, his hand extended.

  “Thanks, Ross, for being here. It means more than I can say.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Pastor Cameron,” Ross answered with a sincere smile.

  Paul then turned to Abby, and she smiled and extended her hand. Reaching for that hand, he didn’t shake it but pulled her into his arms. It took a moment for a surprised Abby to react, but then she hugged him back with her heart overflowing.

  When they parted, Paul’s voice was strained. “Thanks, Red.” Abby could only nod before she turned away, knowing if she looked at him she would start to cry again.

  The excitement of the day seemed to drain everyone’s strength, and all five people at Lloyd Templeton’s home spent the remainder of the day in quiet rest.

  38

  Paul’s entire body shook with emotion two days later as he stood before the home of his wife’s parents. Memories assailed him like a full-force gale, robbing him of breath for a moment: the first time he had walked up these steps to find Corrine sick and hurting… his wedding day at her bedside…believing with all his heart she would get out of that bed. And then the night she died and he walked away from this house telling himself he would never return.

  But here he was, and the pain was nearly overpowering. Knowing the raw feeling inside would not abate until he confronted his in-laws, he started up the steps.

  “I’d like to see Mr. and Mrs. Templeton, please,” Paul stated when a woman opened the door. She wordlessly stepped aside for his entrance, and Paul waited in the very room he had found his thin, sick Corrine and had proposed to her.

  “Hello, Paul.”

  At the very softly spoken words, Paul spun from his place by the fireplace to find Mrs. Templeton. She looked in good health, but there were lines around her eyes and mouth he had never noticed before. Paul opened his mouth to speak.

  “If you’ve come here to apologize for anything, Paul, please don’t.”

  “You can understand why I want to, can’t you?”

  “Yes, I suppose I can, but never once were you treated fairly in our pursuit to see Corrine happy, and for that Hugh and I owe you more apology than we could ever offer. Hugh is not here right now, but then, I don’t suppose he would be able to say the words anyhow.”

  The two of them sat in silence before Mrs. Templeton continued. “I hope for your sake, Paul, that you never have an unwell child. Corrine was sickly from birth. You become a little more attached to them every time they have a brush with death and survive. And then the time comes when they don’t make it, and you realize you knew all along it would happen but you had deluded yourself into believing otherwise. I’m afraid that’s where you came in.

  “Corrine fell for you the minute she laid eyes on you, and when I saw the happiness you brought her I selfishly ignored your needs in my effort to see her happy, no matter how briefly. I don’t blame you if you hate us. I hate myself. I haven’t been able to talk to God since you left.”

  Paul’s eyes closed in agony, and he moved close to her on the settee. He held her hand and spoke. “There is no hate in my heart—that I promise you. And the fact that I am the reason you haven’t had fellowship with the Lord hurts like a knife in my side.”

  “Oh, it’s not your fault. I never meant that—”

  “It is my fault, but I won’t argue with you. I should have stayed, but that’s over. I’ve been away and now I’m back. And I’ll do anything I can to see you restored to fellowship with God, a heavenly Father we both know can salve every hurt with His unconditional healing love.”

  “It’s been so awful.” The older woman began to cry brokenly.

  “I know, but His arms are always opened wide.” Paul said this, and then watched as Rose Templeton bowed her head in prayer. He prayed silently to himself for God’s comfort and healing for all of them as they continued to face life after Corrine’s death.

  “Please, God, please,” Paul heard her whisper, and instantly saw himself on his back in bed at the Becketts’ house, uttering those same words and wanting desperately to be restored. Opening his eyes, he looked at his mother-in-law in concern when she began to cry very hard.

  He held her hand and patted it gently, but her crying was becoming hysterical. When she groped for her handkerchief, Paul quickly handed her his own, but the crying didn’t cease. He heard someone in the hallway and debated about going for help. If anything, her sobbing was more severe, and Paul prayed for wisdom to comfort her.

  He was just about to go for help when Hugh Templeton walked through the door. He hardly spared a glance in Paul’s direction as he came to his wife. Paul wouldn’t have believed th
e man’s voice could be so gentle if he hadn’t heard it with his own ears.

  “Rosie, Rosie—it’s alright. I’m here now. Try to stop crying. You’ll make yourself sick.” Hugh’s arms were around his wife, and he continued to talk softly in her ear as he pulled her to her feet.

  Paul stood helplessly as he watched the concerned husband lift his wife into his arms and carry her from the room. Once alone he ran a distracted hand through his hair and spoke to the empty room. “What have I done?”

  Paul debated about leaving, but concern for Corrine’s mother caused him to pace around indecisively. He had decided to come back another time when Hugh Templeton’s frame filled the doorway. Paul steeled himself for the anger he was sure would be directed at him.

  “I don’t know what you’ve done,” Paul held his breath as the older man spoke, “but I want to thank you.”

  Would this man never cease to surprise him?

  “I can see I’ve shocked you, but the truth is Rose hasn’t cried since the night Corrine died, and I’ve worried about her. I think she’ll be getting better now. I’ve put her to bed and well, you can come back another time or maybe see her at church.”

  Paul could only stare.

  Hugh Templeton nodded to the silent young man and left the room. Paul made his way to the front door in something of a state of shock and was almost outside when Hugh Templeton spoke from behind him.

  “Our family graveyard is out to the west, beyond the flowers. Corrine is buried there.” Without waiting for thanks, the man disappeared into the back of the house and Paul continued outside.

  39

  Corrine Maria Cameron

  1869–1890

  Beloved Wife and Daughter

  Paul looked in silence at the words carved into the stone. It was awful to think of her body beneath the ground. But then she wasn’t really there; she was in heaven where there was no more pain.

  He lowered his body slowly to the grassy knoll and didn’t try to pray; in fact, he tried not to think at all. The sun was in a mid-morning position, and the day promised to be warm. There were a few other graves nearby, but Paul took no notice of them. Someone keeps things cared for up here, he noted absently as he looked at the well-trimmed area which boasted a few flowers.

  “She would have been 21 by now, Lord,” Paul spoke softly in the breeze that had begun to stir. “I knew her such a short time, and yet she taught me so much. She would have been disappointed to know I ran away. She always handled her pain with a smile.”

  Tears ran from Paul’s eyes and he felt such despair at not being able to see her again and tell her he loved her. Oh, he wouldn’t have wanted her to come back to her pain, but he had fallen so deeply in love with her and had had her such a short time.

  And now there was Abby. “Corrine,” he spoke through his tears. “I would have been faithful to you all the days of my life, but you’re gone now and I really think Abby and I need each other. It feels almost adulterous to sit at your grave and speak of another woman but—”

  Paul didn’t finish the words before he began to sob openly. He had cried many tears for the loss of his wife and each time found them healing. But being at her grave, wondering who performed the ceremony that he should have attended, and thinking of the sweet love they had shared for so short a time made his heart feel like it was breaking.

  And in the midst of it all was Abby’s face. Did that mean he didn’t love Corrine anymore? His confusion was great and his tears intensified. Before he realized it, his body gave way to emotional exhaustion.

  Hours later Lloyd stood a few feet away and looked at the prone body of his pastor, a young man he loved and respected. He knew he would be in the same position if that had been May lying there and with him seeing her grave for the first time.

  With a gentle hand he shook Paul’s shoulder. “Come on, son, let’s go home. May’s got some lunch for you, and then I think you could use a rest.”

  Paul looked for a moment in confusion at the older man before rising and going with him down the hill. Back at the house he talked with no one and ate some lunch before retiring to his bed. He wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, if Abby had ever seen Ian’s grave.

  40

  Abby had known it would come, but that didn’t make it any easier. There was no way Paul could come back to this town and not be affected by his memories. She wondered how she would feel if she went back to Canada—probably just as distracted and seemingly remote when she faced the past as Paul was right now. But she missed the other Paul—the one who laughed easily and didn’t seem elsewhere even while in a crowded room.

  She had accompanied Paul up here as planned, and knew that he would look after Ross, who was in reality old enough to look after himself. The time had come for her to go home.

  She would write to the Becketts and ask them to send the rest of her things to Michigan, and then she would head home after she stopped in Bruce Mines. She would know then how Paul was feeling right now. All the memories of her life with Ian would meet her, good and bad.

  She would wait until after Sunday. The quilting bee was Saturday morning, and she wanted to attend. Leaving Paul would be hard enough as it was, and somehow she thought staying to hear him preach one more time would ease the pain. He had such a special way with words, so clearly showing his love of God—and that voice!

  Abby concentrated for a moment on what his laugh sounded like—very deep and quiet. Instantly she could feel his arms around her, strong and warm as when he had hugged her outside the church. She knew the hug from his perspective had been one of gratitude, but she was feeling more than gratitude, and she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “Oh, Ian, I’m so confused. What we had was so special.” But her room didn’t answer.

  Her next thought was of Aaron Johnson. He had come by that morning and stayed for quite some time. Paul had been out, but Aaron had visited with Ross and May. Abby had found his two children, Gwen and James, adorable. Abby had been leery after finding out he was a widower, but his manner was so shy and unpretentious. When his children displayed the same shy manner she lost some of her reserve.

  But she couldn’t marry a man because she felt sorry for him and his children. It would be wonderful if he could find a wife, but Abby knew she was not that woman.

  “Yes, Lord, I think you want me to go home. I guess I halfway hoped that Paul and I would someday be together, but he needs to be concentrating on his life here and the church. He doesn’t need me hanging around.”

  Abby knew she was feeling sorry for herself. Part of the problem was that she should have been asleep half an hour ago. She resettled herself on the pillow and decided to pray herself into slumber.

  Down the hall, Ross and Paul were readying for bed. Paul sat on the edge of his bed to pull off his shoes. He glanced up to find Ross lying in his own bed staring intently at him.

  “When Abby first came to Hayward,” Ross began without warning, “I fell for her—hard. I still think she’s wonderful, but I know she’s not the woman God has for me.”

  Ross paused, and Paul sat in silence waiting for the point he was sure was coming.

  “It was hard for me at first—I mean when I knew she hadn’t fallen for me. But then she told me of Christ, and I know that’s why she came. And well, I still think she’s really special, and I guess I would like to see her loved and cared for. Every time I pray for her, you come to mind.”

  Paul looked at him without comment or change of expresssion, and Ross went on.

  “Now I know it can’t be easy for you being up here where you met your wife, and I don’t expect you to confide in me because none of this is really any of my business. I know that Abby was really in love with her husband, but somehow I just think you two would be really good for each other. I’m sorry if you think I’m putting my nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Ross seemed to run out of words, and he looked a little Uncomfortable as he finished.

  “I don’t think you are being nosey, an
d I appreciate that you care for Abby, but I would like to know what brought all of this on.”

  Ross hesitated for a long moment. “There was a man here today—Aaron Johnson. He visited with Abby for over two hours.”

  “How does Abby know Aaron Johnson?” Paul asked in genuine confusion.

  “Remember, he came by that first day, and then he talked to her again at church on Sunday. And well, today when he was here, they sort of hit it off. That is, he didn’t take his eyes off her the whole time he was here, and she was delighted with his children.”

  Ross watched Paul’s face carefully. He was so good at hiding his feelings, but then Ross saw it—just the tiniest flicker of concern in his eyes. Ross lay back in satisfaction then. He wasn’t good with words like Paul, and that flicker told Ross that Paul had understood what he meant.

  The men didn’t talk further, but Paul’s mind was certainly full as he turned down the lamp. It was long after Ross’ breathing had evened into sleep that Paul finished praying and was able to find his own rest.

  41

  “Paul, can I talk to you a moment?”

  “Certainly,” Paul answered as he followed Lloyd into the study. It was after breakfast the next morning, and Paul was headed to spend some time with Abby. He had done much thinking in the night and come to some peaceful conclusions, but he really needed to talk with her and see how she was feeling.

  He didn’t want to be rude to Lloyd, but had hoped to see Abby before she left for the quilting bee at Loni Griffin’s.

  “How are you doing, Paul?” Lloyd spoke after they both were seated.

  “Very well, thank you,” wondering, as he answered, why he had really been called into the study.

 
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