Part 4
"Isabel!" Jo exclaimed as she came inside. Jo's mouth was
hanging open in surprise.
"Hi, Jo," Isabel smiled. "I
came to see Franz, but now I find he's not here."
Some of the children were sitting and
listening. Nan's brow was wrinkled in contemplation.
"What should I do?" Isabel wondered
aloud. "If I go back to Arizona, who knows if he'll still be
there. But I don't feel right just waiting and hoping he'll come
back."
"We can send a telegram," Nan
suggested.
"Yes! Why didn't I think of
that?" Isabel cried.
Nat smiled secretively at Nan.
Jo rubbed her fingers. "Well,
I suppose that would work, but he may have already started back for
Plumfield."
"At least we would know," Nan pointed
out.
They sent the telegram without delay. Then
they got a fire started in the parlor fireplace and everyone lingered about,
each of them curious about Isabel's trip.
"What
was the West like?" Dan asked intently.
Isabel, who had been examining the pictures on
the wall and drinking from a cup of tea, turned and answered, "Well, Dan,
some of the towns seem about the same as they
are here." She smiled as she saw Dan's disappointed frown.
"But there were some interesting things. . . . We saw a desert—a great big
expanse of dry ground—with prickly plants called cacti. It was so hot I
felt like I would faint! But the place I stayed in Arizona wasn't quite so
hot. My family was happy to see me and we had some good times. . . . But I
kept thinking about Plumfield . . . and Franz."
Nick and Jo glanced at each other and smiled.
"Did you see any silver?"
"Did you help take care of your brother's
cattle?" Dan and Nan asked these questions almost simultaneously.
Isabel grinned. "Yes to both of
you. My brother had used most of the silver to buy his ranch, but he kept
a little nugget for a keepsake. It was just the size of a marble, but it
was really shiny and pretty. . . . My brother's ranch is quite the place!
He has so many cows and horses—I had promised to help him, so I did. My
family visited him and helped, too. I learned how to milk a cow—and lots
of other chores I'd rather do without," she laughed.
Rob, who was snuggled up on the sofa, looked at
Isabel with wide eyes. "Did you see any wolves?"
Isabel stared back at Rob with equally large
eyes. "I heard them howling in the distance . . . But I didn't see
any," she added with a smile.
"Good. —
I don't like wolves," Rob
stated. "They eat pigs!"
Everyone laughed.
Jo pulled Rob to his feet. "Time for
bed, honey."
"I don't want to be honey . . . Bears eat
honey!" Rob asserted as Jo led him away.
Dan looked like he was about to ask another
question of Isabel, so she stood up quickly.
"I don't know about you, but it's my bed
time." She feigned a yawn.
"Okay. Goodnight," the children
said, disappointed.
Isabel shuffled to the guest bedroom. It was
small and cozy, with two candles flickering from on top of a table. It
would be her home for—how long?
She had a desolate feeling that she would never
find her home.
Jo had finished writing in her Conscience Book . . . only she hadn't started in the first place. She had written this in fancy, pretty handwriting:
I lent Isabel my pillow last night and I used the hard, lumpy one from the parlor. Isabel slept better than I did, I'm sure. I read Rob The Three Little Pigs for the thousandth time before bedtime, and I didn't complain. I read my Bible. I prayed. I didn't even have a vain thought when I looked in the mirror. Why do I deserve to be punished in hell?
She had put away her pen with a stubborn frown,
blocking out the nagging little thoughts that buzzed in the back of her
head. She needed to get busy. There were groceries to buy, chores to
do.
At the store, she encountered Mr. Gerson, gave him
a happy "Good morning!" and had let him keep her extra change.
Now, she was walking down the street, feeling
quite satisfied. She had bought all the necessary things. Now she
needed to—
"Good day, Mrs. Bhaer!"
Jo stopped and turned her head. Harrison
Bridger. Not him! She kept walking, pretending not to have heard his
call.
But she heard footsteps following her. Jo
stopped abruptly, whirled around, and demanded, "What are you doing?"
Mr. Bridger ducked his head. "I'm
sorry. I didn't mean—I don't want to be a
pest—"
"Well, you are!" Jo snapped before thinking.
"I'm sorry," Mr. Bridger repeated.
"I just wanted to ask you how you and your sisters are doing."
Jo tightened her lips and felt a twinge of guilt.
"Well—we're doing fine." Jo turned to go.
"Mrs. Bhaer . . . thank you."
Jo frowned. What was he thanking her for?
Jo blew out a breath of frustration and turned and walked away.
The
wages of sin is death. This phrase coursed through Jo's mind.
Like an accusing whisper, snatches of Bible verses came
back to her—ones she had
heard long ago and ones she had heard in church.
There is none righteous, no not one. . . . We
have turned every one to his own way . . . For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God
. . . All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.
Jo swallowed and set down the pitchfork that had been
gripped in her hand.
"God?" Jo looked out the barn door at
the clear blue sky. "God . . . I haven't done right. I'm
evil. I deserve hell! I tried to do good. I thought that would
save me. Even now. I knew the verse that said it's not by works . .
. but I didn't want to quit." Jo's lips trembled and a tear trickled
down her cheek. "Forgive me. . . . Lord, please forgive me!
Save me!"
Slowly, a peace descended on her. She wiped her
tears away and stared out at the blue sky. It was just the same.
This place was all like it had been just a moment ago. But something was
different. Jo's heart had been touched . . . changed by God.
Two
days had passed and there was still no word from Franz.
Isabel tugged her hair up into a loose bun and frowned
at herself in the little oval mirror. "I can't just stay here,"
Isabel said decidedly.
Isabel's steps were quick and sure as she went
towards the front door. She pulled out a piece of paper from her clutch
purse and hastily scribbled a note . . .
Goodbye, everyone. You have been so kind and dear to me, and I thank you so much for your friendship and help! I must go now, and see if I can find Franz. -- Isabel
Suddenly Isabel heard footsteps behind her. She
whirled, as if caught stealing, and saw Jo quizzically staring at her.
"I have to go, Mrs. Jo. It's just killing me
staying here without knowing where Franz is!" Isabel explained quickly.
Jo nodded ever so slightly. "I
understand. I just wish you could stay longer. You should have at
least stayed to say goodbye to everyone."
Isabel looked down. "I know, but . . . it's
just hard having come all this way and finding Franz gone."
Jo smiled. "I know. Maybe we can help
you search for him, though. After all, he could be anywhere from in
between Arizona and here!"
Isabel flashed a smile. "Thank you.
But you've done so much for me already, and I want to find him myself.
I'll send another telegram to my family and ask them if they saw Franz, then
I'll question around town. Then, I'll search the whole country, if that's
what it takes!"
Jo laughed. "You certainly are
determined. Well, if you're sure we can't help, I wish you God
speed."
"Thank you, Mrs. Jo," Isabel said, then
offered her note to Jo. "This is instead of a personal goodbye to
everyone."
Jo nodded and smiled. "God bless," she
said sincerely.
