From Across the Ancient Waters (55 page)

What all the doctrines and sermons and persuasive arguments in the world would never achieve if the man lived to be two hundred had been accomplished in a few short minutes. The simple vision of the prodigal’s open-hearted father, waiting to receive his son into his arms with a great smile on his face, had opened a window of lovely truth into the honest soul of the Welsh blacksmith.

Those who maintain that the threat of hell is the Christian’s most effective tool for evangelism little understand the deepest rhythms of the human soul. Still less do they understand the heart of the Father of Jesus Christ.

The assembly walked quietly from the church to the surrounding cemetery where the viscount was laid to rest with the generations of Westbrookes who had gone before. One by one they greeted Katherine and Florilyn and Courtenay respectfully then slowly returned to their homes. The visitors who had come great distances returned in hired buggies to Dolgellau and Blaenau Ffestiniog, where most spent the night in the hotels and inns of North Wales before catching the train north or south on the following day. Among the last to leave the churchyard were Stevie and Adela Muir, both of whom hugged Katherine and Florilyn warmly.

The day after the funeral, Tilman Heygate sought Katherine in the parlor where she and Edward and Mary were seated together. “I am sorry to disturb you, Lady Katherine,” he said. “But if I might have a minute of your time.”

“Of course, Tilman,” she said. “You can speak freely in front of my brother and sister-in-law.”

“Yes, ma’am. Well, you see, it’s like this. My son, he and his wife have been urging me to come up to the peninsula to be near them. The grandchildren are growing fast, you see. I’ve stayed on out of loyalty to your husband, but since there’ll no doubt be changes coming, and I’m sorry for any inconvenience to yourself, Lady Katherine, but it’s one of those things that can’t be helped, you see. The long and the short of it is that I’m thinking that now is a good time.” What the good man had not said was that he expected young Courtenay to be taking over general oversight of the manor, and he vowed that he would not spend a day in his employ.

“I understand, Tilman,” said Katherine. “I will be sorry to lose you.”

“Thank you, Lady Katherine. You and your husband have been very good to me.”

“When is it you are thinking of making a change?”

“Maybe a month or two, Lady Katherine. As soon as you can find someone.”

“I shall see what I can do.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” said her brother when the factor had left them.

“I don’t like to lose him,” said Katherine. “He knows more about the estate than I do.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?” asked Edward.

“Not that I can—” Suddenly Katherine stopped. A smile spread over her face. “What an intriguing idea!” she said, speaking almost to herself. “We have a young man here, a friend of Percy’s actually, and about the same age … I know he is young, but he has shown that he can take charge in a crisis. He is bright, good with numbers, intelligent, dependable, decisive, completely trustworthy. He knows everyone for miles and is universally liked and respected. Now that I think about it, he strikes me as the perfect choice to help me run things around here until Courtenay is twenty-five.”

“What is the lad’s name?” asked Mary.

“Steven … Steven Muir. I know his mother quite well. She’s begun reading MacDonald, too!”

“What better to recommend her son than that!” laughed Mary. “You will have the whole region reading the Scotsman before long.”

“Is that when Courtenay inherits,” asked Edward, “at twenty-five?”

Katherine nodded. “What it will be like after that, I can only imagine.”

Later that day, Katherine went to Percy in private. “I have just been informed by Tilman Heygate,” she told him, “that he will be leaving the manor and moving to be near his son’s family. What would you think if I made Steven Muir my new factor?”

“I think it is a brilliant idea, Aunt Katherine,” replied Percy enthusiastically. “But where do things stand with Courtenay?”

“The estate will not be his for another year and a half. He will no doubt be annoyed that I don’t turn it over to him now, but I know him too well. As long as I am trustee, I must do what I consider best for the estate.”

Knotted Strands

T
wo days after the funeral, from the window of her room, Florilyn saw Percy and his father walking away from the house in earnest conversation. She smiled to herself. She had no idea what they were saying. But at last she knew the nature of the discussion between them.

Watching the two for the last three days had been a revelation. She had never seen a father and son, or daughter and mother for that matter, talk so freely … like
friends
. They listened to each other, probed each other’s thoughts, and mutually respected the other’s ideas. They talked constantly … about
everything!

She left her room and went downstairs to join her mother and aunt in the sitting room.

East of the house, Percy and his father continued slowly through the wood and up the gently rising slope east of the manor.

“There’s something I need to ask you about, Dad,” Percy said. “Before he died, Uncle Roderick made a request of me. It is extremely complicated and might require a good deal of time and travel, even expense. I’m not sure what I should do, how soon to begin, and where to place it in my considerations of school and the apprenticeship.”

“What is it?” asked Percy’s father.

“That’s just it. I can’t tell you. He asked that it remain confidential. Do you think the fact that he is dead changes that? I mean … is one still bound to a promise to a dead man?”

“An interesting question. It probably depends on the individual case. Are other people involved?”

Percy nodded.

“Could they be hurt if you divulged what you and Roderick talked about?”

“It’s possible.”

“Then it seems to me that you must honor your word as long as possible. It may in time become necessary to speak more openly. If it reaches a point where you absolutely have no idea what to do, we can rethink it. Perhaps you will need to tell me later. But for the immediate future, I think the safest policy is for you to keep your own counsel.”

“I would give anything to tell you about it.”

“The time may come when you will feel it right to do so. The Lord will show you what to do.”

“Do you think I ought to begin immediately and take a leave of absence from school?”

“How urgent is the matter?”

“It didn’t strike me as especially urgent. Actually, he never really said anything about
when
. Knowing he was dying, he simply wanted me to take care of it.”

“Could it wait until you graduate?”

“I suppose. That would also give me time to consider how best to carry out Uncle Roderick’s commission.”

“And as well, if you are to be married, it seems in everyone’s best interest for you to graduate first. That is another argument in favor of waiting.”

“I see what you mean. Because of what’s happened, though, I do think I ought to remain here for the summer. I wanted to ask your advice … what would you think of my writing to Mr. Snyder and telling him it will be impossible for me to apprentice with his firm this summer?”

“I think that is a wise decision,” replied his father. “You are needed here. Florilyn and her mother are your primary responsibilities now. And I’ve heard Courtenay talking about taking a trip.”

Father and son glanced up to see Florilyn, Mary, and Katherine approaching. They had come out of the house together.

“Hello, ladies!” said Edward, greeting them with a smile. “How are you managing, Katherine?” he said, walking toward her and embracing her affectionately.

His sister sighed and smiled sadly.

They all now turned and walked toward the garden.

“It will be hard for some time,” said Katherine after a moment. “It was so sudden. But your message at the funeral helped more than you know. Sometimes I need to be reminded how good God really is. It is easy to forget. How do you do it, Edward—always put your finger on the exact point of truth needed?”

Her brother laughed.

Florilyn glanced toward him, struck suddenly at how very much like Percy’s his laugh sounded.

“As I remember, you found that annoying when we were growing up!” Edward chuckled.

“Not anymore. Whenever I hear it now, it reminds me of Father.”

“It is easy for us all to forget,” said Edward after a moment. “I am trying to remember what our father taught us, too, Katherine. His vision of God is so much larger than mine. I am still learning. The natural human tendency is to doubt God rather than trust Him. I don’t know why. I must constantly remind myself that God is on
our
side in this struggle we call life.”

“That is just like what Father would say! At seventy-five, he is still hungry to know more about God.”

“I hope you will be saying the same of me when I am seventy-five,” rejoined Edward.

Florilyn walked between the men and slipped her hands into their two arms. “Percy speaks very highly of you, Uncle Edward,” she said. “I have never seen a son honor a father as he does you. I feel that I know you almost as well as I know him.”

“I am aware of it, Florilyn.” The vicar smiled. “I am a man most fortunate to have such a son.
And
such a niece!”

“Now it looks as if you will be a father to me, as well as an uncle.”

“It is an assignment I look forward to, my dear.”

The five continued to walk about the grounds, speaking of many things. Not the least of which subjects that came up was the future of the two young people.

Percy shared with Katherine and Florilyn that he had decided not to return to Aberdeen for the summer apprenticeship, but to remain with them … with their permission, of course. Both were overjoyed and relieved beyond words. He then explained his conviction that he and his father felt it best that he return to complete his fourth year at the university so as to graduate before pursuing matrimonial plans.

Everyone agreed that it was a wise course of action. The other considerations that were on his mind, Percy kept to himself. Many questions remained.

Several days after the funeral, Rhawn Lorimer surprised everyone by appearing at Westbrooke Manor. Her son was with her, and a look of compassionate humility was on her face. She asked to see Florilyn and Katherine. She expressed her sympathies then added that she would like them to meet her son. Her tone was so gentle and her demeanor so changed, that they invited her to stay for tea—though it proved a somewhat rambunctious affair with a youngster about. From that day forward, she and Florilyn began a wonderful new friendship together.

Katherine consulted in private with Steven Muir, as she always called him. With quiet and humble gratitude, he accepted her offer. She added, however, that no announcement of it should be made until she made it herself. He must say nothing even to his mother.

After a few more days, Mary and Edward Drummond left on the coach for Blaenau Ffestiniog where they caught the train that, after several connections, took them back to Scotland.

Two weeks later, declaring himself in need of a holiday, Courtenay Westbrooke left for the south of France, expecting at the end of his hiatus to find the weight of his father’s responsibilities falling to his shoulders.

He did not return for three months. By then Percy had resumed his studies in Abereen. To Courtenay’s great surprise and smoldering fury, Stevie Muir was confidently and capably in charge as Lady Katherine’s factor at Westbrooke Manor.

No one quite knew why from the very day of the viscount’s funeral the hammer and anvil of Kyvwlch Gwarthegydd’s smithy were thereafter silent on Sundays. Nor did a soul ever know his dark secret—that when his wife and Chandos were occupied at church, he crept to his son’s room to snatch peeks inside the Bible on the shelf, hoping to discover more about who God really was.

Percy’s plans and what came of them will require another book.