She called the girls to join them as they went across to enjoy another dinner.
When they returned to work, they did not resume their conversation. Feeling content with the moment, willing to momentarily forget the threat of her past and the worry about tomorrow, she simply settled into enjoying her part in making the church pews.
She hummed as she worked. The joy of the words overflowed her heart, and she softly sang aloud. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him, all creatures here below.”
God had been good to her and her children. Providing them a safe place to wait for the stagecoach and a way to work so she could feed herself and the girls. The words of the doxology swelled in her throat. She wanted to raise her voice to the rafters.
“Mama?” Eleanor’s voice drew her from her moment of worship.
“Yes, sweetheart? What is it?”
“Mr. Blue is a blessing, isn’t he?” Eleanor gave Blue a shy smile, then turned to Clara with innocent expectation.
Clara darted a glance at Blue, who looked as stunned by the question as she was. How did one answer such a question? Certainly Blue had played a vital role in her present circumstances. He’d been there when she needed someone—provided by God’s providential hand. But he also represented risk. He knew too much about her. If someone asked questions, he could answer them. And then her girls would be torn from her. A loss she couldn’t let herself consider.
“Mama?”
She had to give an answer and went to her daughters. She knelt at their side. “Remember how we prayed that God would take care of us? I told you we could trust Him to provide. Well, I believe He sent Mr. Blue in answer to our prayer. So, yes, he’s a blessing, and we should thank God for him.”
Libby knelt and grabbed Clara’s hand and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Libby, what are you doing?”
The child cracked one eye open. “You said we should thank God.”
Here? Now? Right in front of Blue? Grateful she had her back to him and couldn’t see his reaction, Clara closed her eyes. “Father God, You promised to always guide and direct us and provide our needs. Thank You for sending Mr. Blue for that purpose. Amen.”
She thought that would be enough, but Libby said, “I want to pray, too.” And she did. “Dear God, I know You are big and mighty and can do anything, but it’s nice You gave us someone with arms to hug us and hold us. I like Mr. Blue’s arms. Amen.”
“My turn,” Eleanor said. “Dear God, I don’t know where we’re going. Mama won’t say. But maybe this is where. I’d sure like that. Amen. Oh, yes, don’t forget what we asked for Christmas.”
Clara remained where she was, stunned by what the girls had revealed. Asking God for Christmas gifts was bad enough. Hadn’t she taught them to trust God for their needs? In their small minds, she reasoned, Christmas was a need. But asking God to let them stay here? And thanking Him for Blue’s arms? What had she gotten them into?
She pushed to her feet, but she couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Blue as she spoke. “I’m sure that was very awkward for you, but they’re just innocent little girls. I’ve tried to shield them from the harsh realities of life.”
“Like you say, they’re innocent children.” His voice was gravelly. Did that mean he was touched or hurt? She didn’t think she cared for either.
“Shall we get to work?” he said.
She was only too happy to comply.
The awkwardness between them made her movements jerky. After a few failed attempts at trying to plane a piece of wood, she gave up and circled the room, imagining the place full of worshippers. She glanced out each window, went into the entryway that would eventually be a separate room and tried not to think how pleasant it would be to be part of a small congregation where everyone had had a hand in making the church possible.
Would there be a church at Fort Calgary? Surely there would be some place of worship. After all, there were people there.
She returned to the sawhorses where Blue had placed a piece of wood and helped him measure and then measure again. Her mind wandered, and Blue grunted.
“We’ll have to measure it again.”