Wellspring of Love

Chapter One

The scream rang out over the roar of the John Deere tractor and echoed beyond the stand of poplar trees adjacent to the field where Ronald worked.

Bobby’s at it again, Ronald thought, tormenting his little sisters, probably chasing them with a live garter snake. But when he heard a second scream, this time more urgent, he knew it was not the sound of a child at play. He brought the tractor to an abrupt halt, and leapt to the ground.

Rachael! Somethings happened to Rachael. The bull! Has the bull attacked?

With long, awkward strides, Ronald raced over the ploughed field towards the barn. Stumbling over the furrows, he did not slow his pace until he reached the barbed wire fence that separated field and farmyard. He threw the gate aside and sped around the corner of the building to the open barn door.

Rachael? Squinting in the sudden gloom of the interior, he ran towards the bull pen. At the same moment that he caught sight of the big beast lying quietly in the straw, he heard a scuffling sound from above, followed by a muffled plea.

Stop it! Leave me alone. Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me, you big jerk.

The sound of ripping fabric reached Ronald’s ears as he scrambled up the ladder to the loft. Every nerve on edge, he reached the last rung and leapt to the board floor. Peering into the darkness, he froze at the scene before him.

Rachael! he bellowed.

She lay on her back on the loose hay, jean-covered legs kicking and lashing at the hulk that straddled her. Bare arms flailed; wild blonde hair half concealed her face which showed not terror as he had expected, but frustration and anger. In an instant Ronald regained his senses. Hurtling across the space between them, he grabbed Rachael’s bare-chested attacker and, in spite of the sheer bulk of the man, hurled him across the loft.

For a moment Ronald stood motionless, torn between rushing to his sister’s side or throwing himself on the blubbering hulk that now lay sprawled on the hay where he had landed. But Rachael’s angry mutterings drew him to her. Kneeling at her side, he touched her hair with one disfigured hand.

Are you all right? Are you hurt?

N ... no, I’m okay. She sat up and sent a withering glance across the loft to where her assailant struggled to his feet. He doesn’t realize his own strength, the big lout.

A scuffling noise behind him brought Ronald upright. The man had regained his feet and Ronald lunged for him, catching him by an arm as he stumbled towards the loft opening.

Don’t hurt him, Ronnie.

I’ll more than hurt him if I ever catch him around here again. Ronald glared into the big sweating face. Now get on home, Tim, and don’t come back. You hear?

Tim’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Obviously sensing he was going to be set free with only a warning, he pulled himself from Ronald’s grasp.

Ronald took the opportunity to push the big man backwards so that he had to do an awkward dance step to keep from tumbling down the loft stairs. I said, do you hear me?

Yeah, yeah, Ronnie. Sure, okay, I’ll go now. But I didn’t mean to hurt Rachael, honest. We was just wrestling. He turned a pleading look on her. I didn’t mean to tear your blouse ... I’m ... I’m sorry.

Ronald raised a threatening fist. Get out.

Tim turned his back on them and scrambled down the steps.

Rachael got to her feet and stood unsteadily, one hand clutching her torn blouse, the other brushing the hay out of her hair.

Ronnie took a deep breath. Are you all right?

Yeah, I’m okay. You can’t blame Timmy, you know. He was only playing.

Ronnie looked away from her. Yeah, sure, he muttered. Taking her arm he led her to the stairs. You’d better go to the house and get cleaned up. And you have to tell your mother what happened.

She swung around to face him. Oh no, I can’t, Ronnie. Please ... please don’t tell Mom and Dad. Timmy didn’t even realize what he was doing. We used to wrestle all the time when we were kids.

They have to know, Rachael, he said quietly. He bit his lip and looked at the board floor. Look, kid, I know how you feel about Tim. He’s been like a brother to you for years. But you have to realize he’s not a child anymore. He has a man’s body, and a ... a man’s ... ah ... feelings ...

He’s a child, Ronnie. You know his mind’s like a ten-year-olds. In that way, he’s even younger than Bobby.

Ronald searched for words to explain what he was trying so hard to say. How could he make her understand? Having spent eight of her sixteen years on the farm, she knew a little about life. And didn’t she hang out at school, and every other chance she got, with their precocious cousin, Lyssa?

C’mon, let’s get out of here. I have to go back to work. And you go to the house and talk to your mom.

I can’t talk to her. She and Dad and the kids have gone to town. Rachael scrambled down the steps and outside into the sunshine, Ronald right behind her.

That’s no excuse, kid; they won’t be gone all day. He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the house, then turned to walk back to the field and the abandoned tractor.

As he stumbled over the furrows, his mind in turmoil, he wondered how many more times he would be called upon to rescue his headstrong sister from danger. Mentally, he checked off the incidents that had landed Rachael in trouble throughout their childhood. The day he had stopped Bill Harrison, the man he then thought to be his dad, from giving her a serious beating. That day, Ronnie had taken the beating in her place. The time Rachael took four-year-old Bobby and ran away from their temporary home at the Harrisons, into the middle of the worst prairie blizzard the Alberta community had seen in years. That time Ronald lost fingers, toes and part of an ear – and almost lost his life – in an effort to save them.

It grieved him to know that Rachael still felt guilt over his loss. So many times he had tried to tell her it was not her fault, nor was it her fault that Bobby, too, had lost fingers and toes as a result of the storm. She said she believed him, but he had seen her recoil sometimes when she looked at his hands, or saw his feet when they were swimming in Emblem Lake. He knew her reaction didn’t stem from squeamishness – no girl he knew was less squeamish than his sister. No, it was the knowledge that she had led both him and Bobby into a situation that could have taken – and almost did take – all of their lives.

But right now there were more immediate concerns. How could he make Rachael understand that Tim, no matter how innocent, no matter how gentle he had always been, at eighteen years old had a youth’s hormones raging through his system? No doubt Rachael was right – Tim Buckley would not knowingly hurt her. He had been her playmate since she and Bobby had been adopted by Morley and Tyne Cresswell eight years earlier. The Buckleys lived not more than half a mile across the fields from the Cresswell farm, a fact that accounted for the well worn path between the two houses.

Ronald, while working in the fields, had often seen Rachael and Bobby on their way to the Buckley farm. But he had rarely seen Tim coming alone in the other direction. Only when he had company did his parents allow the mentally challenged boy to leave their yard. Now, however, Tim came and went at will.

As he climbed onto the tractor seat, he took a deep breath, drawing in the earthy smell of freshly turned sod. Robins, newly returned from their winter home, danced over the furrows searching for earthworms turned up by the ploughshares. A few crows hovered overhead, disturbing the stillness of the spring afternoon with their raucous cawing.

Ronald reached for his thermos in a metal box at his feet and took a long drink of refreshing well water. He needed to stop worrying about Rachael so much. She was Tyne’s and Morley’s responsibility, and they had done a great job raising her and Bobby. Although the children had been older – eight and almost five – when their natural father had given them up for adoption, the Cresswells had loved them as their very own right from the beginning. Even when the twin girls had come along, Rachael and Bobby were as much a part of the family as if they had been born into it.

Ronald knew it had been a challenge for the Cresswells. Rachael had come to them as a disturbed child, distraught over the death of her mother, emotionally bruised from her time in the home of her aunt and uncle, and full of anguish about her part in getting Bobby, Ronald and herself lost in a blizzard. But their faith in God, and dependence on prayer, had given Tyne and Morley the wisdom and compassion to bring about the healing that had to take place in the child’s life and heart.

He put the John Deere into gear and engaged the plough. The memories would not let him go today. Not only Rachael had needed healing, he had needed it, too. And he had found it through the patient love of Millie Harper – Tyne’s aunt – who had taken him in when he was not quite twelve years old, still suffering from the effects of the storm that led to his disfigurement, and terrified of returning home to the Harrisons whom he had always thought to be his parents.

He would never forget the shock of learning that Ruby and Bill Harrison had taken him as a baby to raise as their own child. His real mother, Ruby’s sister Lydia, had been a single girl whose fiancée had been killed in the Second World War when she was pregnant with his child. And Lydia was also the mother of Rachael and Bobby, whom Ronald had always thought were his cousins.

It had been almost more than his twelve-year-old mind could process, but one thing delighted him. Although he was saddened to learn that Ruby Harrison, the woman he still called Mom, was really his aunt, he was elated that the man who had regularly beat him, ridiculed him or ignored him, was no blood relation whatsoever. Bill Harrison was nothing more than a bully who had apparently passed on this trait to his firstborn, Lyssa.

Lyssa Harrison was not the type of girl Ronald had ever imagined would be a friend of his sister, but that is what had happened when Rachael started high school. The way the older girl had acted towards Rachael when they were kids only furthered his confusion. In their teen years the cousins had become inseparable, and he knew that Tyne and Morley were not happy at the negative influence Lyssa had on their adopted daughter.

As he came to the end of the furrow, Ronald saw Morley’s Ford station wagon come into the yard and pull up near the house. Before the car had made a full stop, the rear doors burst open, disgorging Bobby and the six-year-old twins, Katie and Susie. Ronald grinned as he watched Bobby chase his sisters around the house to the back door.

Chapter Two

After she put the groceries away, Tyne carried the clothes she had bought for the children, into their bedroom. The gingery aroma of freshly baked cookies she had seen cooling on the kitchen table followed her up the stairs. Absorbed in hanging the two identical pairs of pants and blouses in the clothes cupboard, she did not notice Rachael come into the room.

Hi, Mom. Have a good day in Emblem?

Tyne swung around to face her eldest daughter. Hello, dear. Yes, we had a nice day. We did the grocery shopping, after which your dad treated us to an ice cream, then we bought new play clothes for the girls.

 Guess Katie was delighted to shop for clothes.

Ah yes, she was. But Susie ... well, not so much. The difference between those two never ceases to amaze me. Tyne shook her head from side to side. Katie even suggested that next time we should go to Medicine Hat to shop because, quote, ‘The stores in Emblem are too small, Mommy. They don’t have enough nice things.’ Can you imagine? She’s six years old, for goodness sake.

Rachael grinned. That’s my little sister, all right. She’s either going to be a model or a movie star.

Tyne grimaced as she hung the last of the new garments on a hanger and closed the closet door. And what have you been doing while we were away? She smiled. Besides baking cookies, that is. Any visitors or phone calls?

Rachael averted her eyes and turned towards the door, but there she paused. Oh yeah, Grandma Milligan rang. Said she’ll call you later. She swung around to face Tyne. Is there any mail? Anything from Pa?

No, I’m afraid not, honey.

Rachael shrugged. Yeah well, I guess he’s more interested in his new family now.

Tyne walked over to the girl and put her arm around her. Oh Rachael, I’m sure that’s not the case. He’s likely busy getting them settled, as well as going to work every day in the railway yard.

I know, Mom, but he used to write at least every two weeks before he married that woman and took her kids on as well.

Tyne frowned and withdrew her arm, but kept her voice gentle. Rachael, Margaret has a name. Please don’t refer to her as that woman. She seemed very nice when we met her, and I’m sure she’s going to make your pa happy. Don’t begrudge him that.

Rachael sighed. Okay, I’m sorry. She hesitated, then blurted, Mom, can I go to Lyssa’s tonight after supper? She said she’ll come pick me up.

Tyne’s eyebrows drew together. You were there just two nights ago, honey. Is there something special planned for tonight?

Rachael shrugged. Naw, just hanging and listening to records, I guess. Please, Mom. It’s Saturday night. Lark’ll be there, too.

What about your Aunt Ruby? Will she be at home?

Rachael hesitated. I ... don’t know ... that is, I don’t think so. So Lyssa says we can have the house to ourselves and play the record player as loud as we like.

Tyne took a deep breath. Should she give Rachael permission to go to the Harrisons’ when there were no adults at home? Although Lyssa considered herself an adult, Tyne would be far happier giving Rachael permission to spend an evening with fifteen-year-old Lark than with the precocious eighteen-year-old sister.

Mom?

We’ll ask your dad when he comes in from the barn. If he says it’s okay, then you can go. But I want you home by half past ten. Don’t forget you’re doing the devotional for the youth group at church tomorrow. By the way, have you prepared?

Rachael’s eyes lit up. Almost. I’ll go finish it now. Thanks, Mom. She swung around and raced down the hall to her room.

As her bedroom door slammed behind her, Tyne couldn’t help but wonder how much Godly thought would be put into that devotional.

Tyne could not have known that her thoughts and concerns as she returned to the kitchen were the same concerns that Ronald Harrison had harboured just a short while before. How had Rachael become so close to her cousin? How well Tyne remembered Rachael’s distress when Lyssa had bullied her all through their childhood and adolescent years. But something had changed in high school. Gradually, the conflict had subsided and the two girls had become friends, almost inseparable.

Tyne and Morley would have preferred Rachael have a friend her own age. Lyssa would be graduating from high school in a little over a month and, at eighteen, was more worldly than Tyne would ever want one of her own children to be. Ruby Harrison had not had much control over the child, and had even less over the adult.

Rachael did have friends her own age, but she seemed to prefer her cousin’s company to any of them. No matter how often Tyne had asked the girl to invite her girlfriends to the farm, she rarely did so, and even sulked because they discouraged her from inviting Lyssa.

What could she and Morley do? Tyne often wondered. Should they actually forbid their daughter from an association they felt could lead Rachael into trouble?

And as always, when she didn’t know the right approach, she heard Morley’s prompting in her head, Let’s pray about it.

I’ll do that tonight, Lord, she murmured as she crossed the kitchen to the electric range to turn the oven on. I’m sorry, but right now I have to get dinner started. She smiled, thinking that, after ten years of marriage to Morley, a casual conversation with God was as natural to her as it would have been talking to a dear friend.

And, after all, isn’t that what God had become to her? A dear friend? Yes indeed, and for that she had her husband’s unwavering faith to thank. The difference in their beliefs – she Catholic, he Evangelical – that at one time seemed insurmountable, had merged into a union of mutual belief in Christ and His saving grace. Previously restricted to some extent in attending church together, they now moved freely between both houses of worship on special occasions. But for the most part, Tyne accompanied her parents to Mass on Sunday, while Morley took the children to the church in which he had been raised.

The oven timer signaled for attention. She put her musings aside and turned her thoughts to the task of preparing dinner for her always hungry family. Within minutes she popped a bread pudding into the warm oven, the tang of cinnamon and nutmeg filling the kitchen with a tantalizing aroma.

Later, at the supper table, Morley glanced around at his family seated on either side of him. The twins were trying hard to contain the giggles that were always threatening to spill out of them. Bobby, next to his mother who sat at the foot of the table, fidgeted as he eyed the bowls of vegetables