[Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm Read Online Free PDF Page A

the dogs we’ve played with. Not even our many friends. I think of family. And I know inside that no matter where we would have lived, I would have good memories because of that.”
    Christine sniffed. Wynn passed her his handkerchief.
    Elizabeth was busy with a hankie of her own. Henry’s words were the most beautiful Christmas gift she had ever been given.
    Christine nodded and even managed a smile. “You are right—as usual. We have been blessed.” She struggled for composure and moved to lean against Henry’s long legs. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth could see his fingers curl in a little squeeze.
    “I guess that’s why I feel so sorry for someone like ... like Boyd” were Christine’s next words. “He has been so ... impoverished. All he has ever had is ... things.”
    “He’s the only child?” asked Wynn.
    Christine nodded.
    “What’s he like?” prompted Henry.
    “Well ... he makes all of the typists swoon,” began Christine, and the little group all laughed again. “Trouble is, he is well aware of the fact. I think he loves the attention.”
    “So he’s nice looking?” asked Elizabeth.
    “More than nice looking,” Christine answered with emphasis.
    “I knew a young man like that once,” said Elizabeth with a knowing smile toward Wynn. “Nice thing was, he didn’t seem to be aware of it.”
    Christine and Henry understood the words and both sets of eyes turned to their father. “Oh, Boyd isn’t quite as handsome as Dad,” put in Christine, and more soft laughter filled the room.
    “So what have his good looks done for him? Or to him?” asked Henry pointedly.
    “He’s ... cocky. I’ve never quite figured out if he really feels that self-assured ... or ... or uncertain. But if he does feel insecure, he sure does a great job of hiding it.” She chuckled, but there didn’t seem to be much joy in it.
    “After he splashed me so thoroughly—you heard about that?” She half turned to Henry, who nodded. “Well, I had little choice but to accept the ride home. It started out pretty ... stiff. I was still miffed ... but he seemed amused. That made me even angrier. But—in a way—he was a gentleman, though he never did get around to an apology. The next morning there was this big, lovely bouquet of flowers on my desk, and the card read, ‘From the fool driver’—like it was a joke. I wasn’t sure how to take it but finally just shrugged it off. I decided that city folks were different than country folks and that—in his own way—this was his apology.”
    “How old is this guy?” Again the query from Henry.
    “Umm ... not sure. Twenty-two, maybe.”
    “Does he have a job?”
    “No. He’s still going to school.” Christine would not have said so, but she was rather relieved, and some disappointed, that Boyd had gone off to school. More and more his eyes had turned her way when he visited his father’s office. It unsettled yet excited her. And when he began to hang around her desk and find little excuses to chat, she felt at times that she could scarcely breathe. She needed time—space—in order to sort out the reason for her skipped heartbeats.
    “Where?”
    Her attention turned back to the family who shared the room and the fire. “University. In the East. Toronto, I think.”
    Wynn stirred. “What’s he studying?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s sure. I think from what his father has said, he’s changed his mind a couple times.”
    Elizabeth looked across at her husband and silently shared his concern.
    “Any church background?”
    Christine shifted her position and looked from one parent to the other. “None whatever,” she replied. “Mr. Kingsley has little use for the church—or for God. I think he’s angry that his wife died. Anyway, I doubt Boyd has ever been to church in his life. Not even to Sunday school. He believes church is for wackos.”
    “Wackos?”
    “His words—not mine.”
    Elizabeth saw Wynn’s eyes