North Country Hero. Lois Richer
This will initiate a search of our records.
So many times Sara had wondered about the mother who only came back to her in fragmented dreams. Who was she? Why had she put Sara into foster care? Why had she never come back? Didn’t she love Sara? Didn’t her father care that his daughter might need him?
In the past, Sara had come up with a thousand reasons why her parents had never come to retrieve her—fairy tales, happily-ever-afters, like the romance stories she loved reading.
But now she needed the truth. She wanted to find her parents, embrace them and let their love erase the past. She wanted to have what Kyle had lost—people who loved her always.
She wanted a forever family.
“Here you go, sweetie.”
“Thanks.” Sara hurriedly tucked her papers into her pocket before accepting the gigantic mug from Laurel. Laurel was as close to Sara’s ideal mother-fantasy as anyone had ever been, but even Laurel couldn’t fill her need for her mother’s love.
“Enjoy it.” Laurel smiled. “Savor this time alone because once the boys arrive it’s going to get mighty busy.” She sat in the chair across from Sara, her face serious. “Are you sure cooking here won’t be too much for you?”
“I’m sure.” Sara cupped her hands around her mug.
“Let me tell you a bit about each boy so you’ll be prepared.” Laurel gave a brief history, ending with the youngest and in Sara’s eyes the most vulnerable boy, Rod.
“I think I’ll like Rod.” Sara knew she’d like all of the boys. Kids were easy to love.
“I’m not telling you about them because I expect you to get involved with their programs,” Laurel said.
“Oh?” Sara frowned, confused.
“I hired you to cook for us because I know how great you are at it.” Laurel leaned forward. “But I want you to be free to do other things.”
“Like what?” Sara already had a to-do list. Finding her family was first.
“Sara, you lost most of your childhood being a servant to the Masters. All the years you should have been a kid were spent making sure the other foster kids were okay.”
“I had to do that,” Sara said simply.
“You shouldn’t have had to,” her mentor insisted. “You’re twenty-two. Have you ever taken time to think about yourself?”
“I managed.” Sara didn’t like to dwell on the past.
“Oh, my dear, you managed wonderfully. But now you have this time in Churchill and I want it to be your time. I want you to enjoy your life, find new interests. Make new friends.” Laurel’s voice softened. “I want you to focus on your future.”
Sara thought about Kyle, alone in his house with that awesome yard. Rod would be arriving tomorrow. The sprout of an idea pushed down roots in her mind. She tucked it away until she could consider it more thoroughly.
“I will focus on my future. But I need you to do something for me, too, Laurel.” Sara paused to assemble her thoughts. “I know I’m going to love it here. But I will only stay till Christmas. By then I believe God will have shown me what he wants me to do with my future.”
“Well...” Laurel inclined her head.
“No, I mean it. I know myself, Laurel. I’ll love it here, I’ll get too comfortable and I’ll want to stay. But you must ignore that, even if I ask you not to. You have to find someone else to take over for me after Christmas. Promise?” She leaned forward, her gaze intent on Laurel.
“If you insist,” Laurel finally agreed.
“I do. I thought about this a lot while I was going to cooking school. Our minister said that in order to be the person God intends us to be, we must discover what He wants us to do.” She leaned back, smiled. “That’s what I am going to do while I’m here in Churchill. I’m going to search for God’s plan for my future. So you cannot let me talk you into my staying.”
Laurel studied her for a long time before she nodded. “All right.”
“Now, what kind of things should I do while I’m here?”
“There’s a pool at the recreation center attached to the school. You could take swimming lessons,” Laurel told her. “Also, the school holds classes for anyone who wants to upgrade their education. You might want to look into that.”
“Yes, I do.” Sara didn’t feel compelled to explain. Though the Masters had claimed Sara was homeschooled, Laurel had revealed their lies.
Laurel understood how awkward and geeky Sara felt, how much she wanted to shed her “misfit” feelings and be like everyone else. That was why she read so much. But sometimes it wasn’t enough to just read about something. Her reaction to Kyle was a prime example. Nothing she’d read had prepared her for the instant empathy she felt for him.
“I’ll pray that God will reveal His plans to you, Sara, so you’ll be able to figure out what He wants for your future.”
Sara already knew what she wanted in her future. She wanted her family reunited.
“Could I take computer classes?” Sara asked.
“Why not? You’ll probably have to wait till fall for the new sessions, though. We’ll phone and check tomorrow. I’ll pray that God will reveal His plans to you so you’ll be able to figure out what you want for your future.” Laurel drew her into a hug.
She already knew what she wanted; she wanted her family reunited. But she closed her eyes and let her spirit revel in Laurel’s embrace. Somehow that triggered thoughts of Kyle. Hugs were new to her, but he was used to them. He’d had parents who loved him and showed it. She’d seen it in the photos on his kitchen wall. He came from a tight-knit happy family.
“I’m going to bed now,” Laurel said, releasing her. “You must be tired after that long train trip.”
“Oh, no. Riding on that train was like being rocked to sleep.” Sara could remember being rocked. Barely.
Laurel kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, sweetie.”
“Goodnight, Laurel.” Sara followed her, stepped into the room Laurel had given her earlier and gazed around. Her room. Space that belonged to her and her alone.
For now she had a home, just like Kyle.
Sara marveled at how far she’d come today. She loved Churchill from the moment she’d stepped off the train. Rough and wild, but brutally honest. Everyone seemed friendly—except for Kyle. An image of him sitting in his kitchen—exhaustion, agony and utter loss etched on his face—filled her thoughts. Sara could excuse his brusqueness because he’d been hurting, body and soul.
What she couldn’t excuse was the way she’d stared at him so admiringly.
“Stop thinking about him,” she scolded herself. “This isn’t a fairy tale. He’s a wounded veteran who lost his father. He’s none of your business.”
To dislodge Kyle’s face from her mind, Sara curled onto the window seat, seeking the rolling ribbons of northern lights her book had talked about. But Laurel said the approach of summer meant it would stay light well into the night, that Sara wouldn’t see the lights for months.
The northern lights, learning the computer—it seemed as though everything had to wait till fall. But she would only be here till Christmas. Would she find her family by then?
She had to. As soon as possible.
Reading had always been her escape as well as her education, but Sara now knew book knowledge wasn’t the same as actually living and experiencing. She was short on experience. That was why she always felt as if she was a step behind everyone else. But she would catch up; she would learn about love and families and all