Searching for Anna Chapter 7 Grand Trunk Station

 

Searching for Anna By Jenifer Carll-Tong

Chapter 7 - Grand Trunk Station

"Settle yourself, dear," Mrs. Albright said, squeezing Phoebe's hand.

She looked into her mother's soft, green eyes and smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

"You're about to wear a hole in the platform with your tapping."

Phoebe stilled her foot. "It would be easier if Father weren't taking so long purchasing my ticket."

"Oh, he probably found someone to have a chat with."

Normally, her father's propensity for gabbing didn't bother Phoebe, but today was different. "But if I miss this train, I'll have to take the next. If I take the next train, I won't arrive at Indian River when the Reverend and Mrs. Cook are expecting me. They might assume I'm not coming. If they leave the station, I'll be stranded there until the next morning. If that happens–"

"Hush, now. Here he comes. And I was right…he found someone to talk to."

Phoebe turned to see her father and Sarah weaving through the crowd with two more family members close behind.

"Esther!" Phoebe said. "I told you to stay home and rest!"

"I wouldn't let you leave without seeing you off! Besides, the doctor said that I am the picture of health!"

Her brother-in-law John helped Reverend Albright carry Phoebe's trunks to the baggage car. Truth be known, she owned enough to fill three trunks, but Dr. Berger had said in his final letter that the parsonage would be outfitted with everything she needed. And, after all, she had spent the last four years with only one trunk's worth of belongings, so certainly she could make do with only two. But those two were packed to the brim and were apparently very heavy. Her father faltered a bit, but before he dropped the chest, a Michigan State Trooper who was boarding the train was there to assist him.

"Very dashing," Esther whispered, motioning toward the officer. "And handsome."

Phoebe shot her sister a look. "You're married!"

"I didn't say he was more handsome than John. That would be impossible." She winked at her. "And I suppose he's not as handsome as your constable, either."

"I don't know who you are talking about."

Esther snorted. "Don't try to deny that he reminded you of Will."

"He did not. And Will is not my constable."

Esther rolled her eyes. "Of course, he isn't."

Phoebe was irked by her sister's assumption, but not more so than she was with herself for lying. In truth, the man had reminded her of Will, though she was loath to admit it. She was also loath to admit that it wasn't the first time she had thought of him. She had expected Will to at least have written her father, if not a letter penned to her personally, but they'd heard nothing from him since he'd left Lansing, despite his promises to do otherwise. And now she was leaving.

'Serves him right,' she thought as she imagined him returning home for a visit only to discover that she wasn't there. 'I guess he should have written like he promised.'

The two men rejoined the women just as the train whistle blew.

"Well, I guess it's time to say our goodbyes," John said. He gave Phoebe a brotherly hug. "Win some souls, ya hear sis?"

Esther pulled Phoebe into her own arms. "You will write, won't you? Every week. Promise me."

"Every week," she said, her voice cracking slightly. She then turned to her little sister.

"Oh, Sarah, don't cry. You'll just make me cry as well."

"I'm going to miss you," Sarah blubbered. "What if I never see you again."

"Of course, you'll see me. Tell you what, maybe next summer you can visit me up north?"

Sarah perked up at that, although Mrs. Albright didn't seem too pleased. Her countenance didn't stay sour for long, however. She smiled at her middle child and grasped her hands.

"Phoebe, dear, I couldn't be more proud of you!" Mrs. Albright gathered her in her arms. No sorrow. No tears. Just joy. Phoebe was grateful for her mother's positivity, but she was surprised by it.

"You aren't worried anymore?" Phoebe asked.

"Oh, no dear. I know now that you'll be safe," she said, then ended with, "but I will miss you terribly."

Reverend Albright cleared his throat. "Alright, then, let's pause a moment to pray together as a family – one last time."

As they all circled and held hands, Reverend Albright led them in a prayer of thankfulness – for God's calling, His provision, and His hope for their futures. He prayed for guidance for Phoebe and for strength for her family back home in her absence. Above all, he prayed that God's will be done in all their lives.

"And Lord, we pray for Will. Continue to protect him and bless him. We thank you for the sacrifices he makes for this State and for our family. We ask this in the matchless name of Jesus, Amen."

They finished praying and Phoebe reached for her bags, but her father grabbed them instead.

"I am fully capable of carrying – "

"I know you are," he said picking up another bag that Phoebe didn't recognize.

"Wait, that one isn't mine."

"I know," he answered matter-of-factly. "It's mine."

Realization dawned on Phoebe. Her father was going with her.

"Daddy, I know you mean well, but if I can lead a church alone, I can surely travel alone. I don't need an escort. I don't need a guide. This isn't my first train – "

"Already bought my ticket."

"I mean no disrespect, but – "

"Listen, darlin' I know you're prepared for this mission God is sending you on. I believe you can do anything God calls you to do. As your pastor, I'm proud of you and your determination. But as your father," he looked her in the eyes, "As your father, I need to make sure you get to your assignment safely. This father needs to baby his daughter one last time – before he has to finally admit that she's all grown up and doesn't need him anymore. You won't deny me that, will ya?"

"No, Daddy," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Good. Well, we had better get on board. John, you'll be sure to check in on Ruth and Sarah for me? I'll be back within the week."

Once on board, Phoebe located a window seat where she could see her family on the platform.

"Daddy?" she said as he sat down beside her.

"Yes?"

She tried to form words to express what the gesture of accompanying her meant — sure, she talked bravely to Sarah, and there had been no difficulty in loudly proclaiming her intentions once the decision had been made, but inside, secretly, Phoebe was scared to death. In the end, she could only manage a weak, "Thank you."

He patted her hand. "No, darlin'. Thank you."

Phoebe waved frantically out the window as the train pulled away. Sarah ran alongside the train, waving and hollering goodbye until she ran out of platform. Phoebe watched her until her silhouette was so small, she was unrecognizable among those around her. It was at this point, when Phoebe could no longer see her sisters or her mother, that it became real to her. Very real. There was no turning back. She was moving hundreds of miles from home, away from everyone she loved. She was moving to the Upper Peninsula – a place she had never even visited.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep tears from welling up. She glanced over at her father. His eyes were closed.

'Dear God,' she prayed silently. 'How am I to answer your call to Iron Falls if I can't make it five minutes from Lansing without breaking down?'

She began playing her father's prayer over in her mind, and it comforted her. He had prayed for guidance and for workers to help her. She remembered him asking for strength in the tough times. Right now is one of those times, Lord. He had also prayed that God would begin preparing the hearts of her congregation before she'd even arrived. Knowing how big God was and believing that he was already at work brought joy to her heart.

The more she thought about the prayer, the calmer she became. She laid her head back and allowed her mind to replay more of the prayer. He had asked that she listen to God's plan, even when it didn't align with her own. This made her smile. How well her father knew her! Sometimes Phoebe got so caught up in doing God's work, that she forgot to listen to God's voice.

Then she remembered the end of his prayer…he had prayed for Will. He prayed for his safety and thanked him for the sacrifices he makes…

"Daddy?"

"Hmph?" her father answered without opening his eyes.

"Your prayer for Will – you mentioned sacrifices he has made for our family. What did you mean by that?"

"Well, I guess that's a story for Will to tell, not me."

"I guess I'll never know, then."

"Hmph," he grunted and pulled his hat over his eyes.

The first leg of the trip was exhausting. All the jerking and constant stopping gave Phoebe a headache but didn't seem to bother Reverend Albright in the least. More than once Phoebe had to elbow her father because his snoring had become so loud that others were beginning to stare.

When they finally stopped for lunch, Phoebe was elated to stretch her muscles. Most of the passengers funneled into the dining establishment in the station, but from Phoebe's experience, those restaurants were overpriced and the food under-seasoned. Besides, Mrs. Albright had been so afraid they would go hungry that she had packed a basket full of enough food for the entire passenger car, and Phoebe was sure there would be some of her favorites in there.

Several outside tables were set up for passengers to use, but by the time Phoebe and her father stepped off the train, they were all taken. One table, on the very end, had only one gentleman seated at it. Reverend Albright approached him.

"Excuse me, my boy, but would you mind if my daughter and I shared your table with you?"

The young man looked up, and Phoebe saw that he was indeed that – a young man. He couldn't have been a day over fifteen. He smiled and Phoebe recognized him from the Grand Trunk Station.

"Yes sir, I'd be happy to share." He looked at Phoebe and blushed.

"You're from Lansing, too," she said as she sat across from the boy. "I saw you saying goodbye to your mother."

He pulled at his collar. "Yeah, my ma made quite a scene. It was embarrassing."

"I thought it was sweet," Phoebe said, remembering the older woman's loud crying. "It just shows how much she cares."

Phoebe opened their basket. Just as she thought… plenty of all her favorites: roast beef sandwiches, cold fried chicken, berries from Mrs. Albright's garden, a jar of her pickles, apple turnovers and nut tarts.

"I wonder where I can find a water pump?" Phoebe wondered out loud.

"Let me get it for ya, ma'am," said their lunch companion, grabbing the cups Phoebe held and running off.

Phoebe smiled after the boy. She turned to her father, who was frowning at the table.

"I'm feeling mighty over-blessed right about now," he said, motioning to the young man's lunch.

Phoebe's eyes followed her father's. An unwrapped piece of brown paper lay on the table, its only contents: three hard boiled eggs and two apples.

Phoebe shrugged. "Well, I guess we know why mother packed so much food – God knew who we were going to sit with all along."

Her father's face softened and looked at her doubtfully. "If he'll accept it. You don't want to bruise his pride."

The young man returned with the cups full of cold water.

"Thank you so much," Phoebe said. "Oh dear, we don't even know your name."

"It's Wendell. Wendell Jackson, ma'am."

"Well, Wendell Jackson, I am Phoebe Albright, and this is my father, Reverend James Albright."

"Pleased to meet ya both."

"Wendell, we appreciate you sharing your table," Phoebe said. "But I have another favor. You see, my mother packed far too much food, and there isn't any way we could possibly eat it all. Would you be a dear and help us eat this lunch?"

"Oh, I couldn't, ma'am. I couldn't eat your lunch."

Despite his youth, Wendell Jackson donned a manful pride far beyond his age. His shoulders, not quite the width they would reach some day, straightened and lifted, as if accustomed to bearing a weight the world could not see. His eyes spoke another story, though, one that although silent to Phoebe, tugged at something deep inside of her. That hidden story, and the gaunt appearance of the boy caused Phoebe to stand her ground. Pride, no matter how noble, would not fill a growing boy's stomach.

"But it will just go to waste. You don't want that, do you?"

His shoulders lightened a little and he laughed. "No, ma'am. Of course, I don't want that."

"Then, that's settled." Phoebe smiled and began dividing the food.

"But I…" Wendell sputtered, looking back and forth between his lunch partners, seemingly at a loss. "I didn't say –"

"So, Wendell, where ya headed?" Reverend Albright asked, ending the conversation.

Still appearing a little stunned, Wendell picked up the sandwich Phoebe placed before him. "The Upper Peninsula, sir, to a town called Iron Falls."

"Hey, you don't say! That's where Miss Albright here is headed as well."

The young man's face lit up. "Really? That's great!" He began to blush again. "I mean, well – " he stammered a bit. "Well, you must be meetin' your husband up there?"

"No, Wendell. I'm not married."

He looked confused. "Then why ya headin' up there? Most girls wouldn't be caught dead going to the U.P."

Phoebe suppressed a laugh. "I'm the new pastor of Iron Falls."

His brow furrowed as he looked at her. "Are you teasin' me?"

"No, I promise you I am very serious."

He thought for another moment, nodded his head, and smiled.

"Well, I think that's great. My Ma would have made a great preacher, you know. She's always lecturing to me from the Bible. You excited?"

She thought for a moment. "Yes, very much so," she said honestly. 'And nervous,' she thought silently.

"Well, I'm excited, too. Not only have I made a friend in my new town, but I've already met the pastor!"

Both Phoebe and her father laughed.

"So why are you headed to the Upper Peninsula, son?" asked Reverend Albright.

"Got me a job in the mines, sir. The pay is pretty good, and the housing is free, so it's not a bad job."

Phoebe was shocked. "Work? Why, you can't be old enough to work in a mine!"

Her words seemed to wound the boy and his shoulders lifted again. "I'm sixteen… but I'll be seventeen in November."

"Well, that sounds like right honorable work," her father interjected, giving Phoebe a reproachful look she was all too familiar with. This wasn't the first time he'd had to save her from her own mouth.

"Yes, it does," Phoebe agreed. "Your mother must be very proud."

"She is, but she wishes I weren't moving so far away. She's worried about me…thinks I'm too young."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Wendell," Reverend Albright said. "No matter how old you get, your mother will never stop worrying about you." He patted Phoebe's hand. "It's part of being a parent."

"If it would make you feel any better, sir, I would be happy to keep an eye out for Miss Albright, you know, and help her whenever she needs it. I could help if she had chores or things a man needs to do."

"That is very sweet, Wendell, but I can take care of my own chores."

"Well, you'll need help around the church, isn't that right? I would be happy to be a helper in that way, if I could."

Helper – around the church. God was already answering their prayers and she wasn't even halfway to Iron Falls yet!

"Yes, yes I will need help around the church! And I would be honored if you were willing to volunteer."

"Well, then, I guess that makes me your first parishioner!" he said with a smile.

They finished their lunch and packed up their belongings.

"We are stopping in Indian Lake for the night. Where are you stopping?" the reverend asked Wendell.

"Oh, I'm not stopping until I get to Iron Falls."

"Really? That will be one long day for you."

"Yes sir, but the woman at the company's boarding house, a Mrs. Smith, she's waitin' up for me. And it's within walking distance of the train station. It'll be late, but it won't cost me anything to sleep there."

Phoebe looked down in the basket she carried. "Wendell, take this basket with you. You can eat the rest for your supper."

"But won't you and the reverend get hungry?"

"Goodness, no. Mrs. Cook, whom we are staying with this evening, will provide us with supper tonight, and will pack us a lunch to take tomorrow, so this food will just go to waste if you don't take it."

Wendell hesitated when she thrust the basket toward him.

Reverend Albright chuckled. "You might as well give up the fight, son, because she has made up her mind."

"But your basket…"

"Just return it to me later this week. We'll need to catch up on your first days in the U.P. anyway, won't we?"

"Now, you see, that's something that an old man preacher like myself just can't do," Reverend Albright said as they watched their new friend make his way to his car.

"What's that?"

"Convince a young man to not only share my lunch, but to also volunteer at a church he has never seen," he said, turning to her. "Do you know how long it took me to find someone to count the offering at church? Five weeks! It took me five weeks to find one person to do one little job in an established church full of members. You've only one member and he just volunteered to do whatever needs to be done. Seems to me that you are going to make a fine pastor." He placed his hat on his head and walked back to the train.

Laughing, Phoebe followed right behind, elated that God was already showing his presence in this adventure.

The wind whipped stray hairs in her face, but Phoebe didn't notice. She was far more concerned with keeping the rolled brim hat atop her head that her sister had convinced her to wear. She sighed. Esther was far more interested in fashion than Phoebe ever cared to be. Had she chosen the simple deaconess bonnet as was her custom, it would be securely tied around her chin and she wouldn't be struggling with the Lake Huron breezes right now. But, at her sister's urging, she had relented. Phoebe was no longer a deaconess, Esther pointed out. She was a pastor, and she had to start acting, and dressing, like it if she expected people to see her as such. She just wished there was a uniform for pastors.

Another strong breeze swept up from the Mackinac Straits and onto the upper deck of the Chief Wawatam. She supposed she should go below where most of the other passengers were, but she just couldn't bring herself to. A bent hat and a tousled pompadour was a small sacrifice in exchange for the magnificent view from the deck.

It had been a shock boarding the Wawatam. Phoebe hadn't thought at all about how she would cross the Mackinac Straits to arrive in the Upper Peninsula, but she certainly didn't expect it to be on a ship that transported not only the train passengers, but the entire train as well. It was a little frightening, she had to admit, to trust one boat with so much weight, but the vessel seemed well built and all the passengers, including a few with their motor vehicles, seemed at ease with the situation. Who was she to question the mode of transportation?

The wind died down and Phoebe took the opportunity to release her grip on her hat and adjust the collar that refused to stay down in the wind. But just as quickly as it had died down, the lake breeze swirled up once more and Phoebe was helpless to reach her hat in time. In an instant, the rolled brim hat, along with all the pins that tried in vain to hold it onto her head, ripped out of her hair and flew behind her.

She gasped and turned, ready to run after the frustrating accessory, but to her shock, the hat wasn't halfway across the deck. It was only a few, short feet away where it had hit a man in the face.

"Oh, my!" she gasped, reaching for her hat. "I'm so sorry! I – I…"

Phoebe stopped short when the man pulled the hat away and she found herself face to face with one of the most handsome men she had ever seen.

Warm, brown eyes smiled down on her. "As lovely as I find your hat," he said with a chuckle, "I really don't believe it matches my suit."

Phoebe could feel her cheeks grow warm as the man stared at her. "No, I don't suppose it does." She stood there, half wanting to find a place to hide for the remainder of the trip, half wanting to hear the handsome man chuckle again. She liked how it sounded.

Phoebe reached for her hat, but the gentleman pulled it just out of reach.

"Sir, if you please?"

"You may have your hat, for a price."

Phoebe arched one eyebrow. She didn't like being toyed with. "A price? How about a hand-shaped mark across your cheek?"

He threw his head back and laughed heartily. "You wound me, madam. The only price I ask…is your name." His laugh sounded even better than the chuckle and Phoebe found herself considerably less inclined toward violence.

Her shoulders relaxed. "Of course. My name is Albright. Phoebe Albright."

It was the man's turn to arch a brow. "Mrs. Albright."

So, that was his real question. "No, sir. Miss Albright."

A large, straight smile spread across the handsome face as he handed her hat to her. "I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Phoebe Albright. I am Gregory Parker."

"A pleasure." She twisted her hat in her hands, uncomfortable with the man's attentions, no matter how pleasant his attentions were. She searched for what to do or say to end, or extend, the conversation, because she wasn't sure which would please her more.

Mr. Parker nodded toward her head. "That must have hurt."

Phoebe scowled in confusion, then her hand flew to her hair. With no mirror at hand, she could only assume how terrible her hair must look. She had no other option but to slam her hat back into place and pray she hadn't worsened the situation. "Oh, I must look a fright!"

"On the contrary. You're beautiful."

Her heart stopped beating. How brazen of this man, a stranger, to pay her such a compliment! She found herself at a loss for words.

"She gets that from her mother."

Phoebe turned to find her father standing behind her.

"Father, may I introduce Mr. Gregory Parker. Mr. Parker, this is my father, Reverend James Albright."

"Reverend? What a coincidence. I'm an evangelist, myself."

Evangelist? He's a pastor? Phoebe thought excitedly. Her heart began beating rapidly.

Her father unbuttoned his jacket and stuffed his hands in his pants' pockets. "Parker, you say? Never heard of an evangelist by that name."

"Well, that makes two of us, because I've never heard of a pastor by the name of Albright."

"Humph," her father grunted. "Well, now you've heard of two of them."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"My girl, here. Didn't she tell you? She's a pastor as well."

The man chuckled again, but this time, Phoebe didn't find it so alluring.

"And what is so comical, sir?" she asked.

Gregory Parker regained his composure quickly. "Not the fact that you are a pastor, madam, for I assure you that I find that most interesting. I only laugh at your father believing that we had had enough time to discuss each other's personal lives so in depth in just the few moments I've been graced with your presence. That is all."

"Oh," she said, ashamed she had assumed the worst in the man.

Mr. Parker continued. "I'm an evangelist in the U.P., which is most likely why you've never heard of me."

"Have you ever traveled through a town called Iron Falls?"

"Why, yes. Many, many times. Miserable place, Iron Falls. Why do you ask?"

Phoebe swallowed hard. "That's where I'm to pastor."

Gregory Parker's smile widened. "Well, the town will surely brighten with the addition of a pastor so fair. And," he said with a wink, "the town is on my circuit. That means we will be seeing each other again."

She wasn't certain if it was the chill of the wind or the promise of his words that caused her hair to stand on end. Maybe both.

"Well, I'm sure Miss Albright will be far too busy to worry about entertaining any evangelists for some time," her father said. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his arm. "Come, now, darlin'. We best be getting down below. We'll be docking in St. Ignace soon."

"I look forward to our next meeting, Miss Albright." Gregory flashed a bright smile and nodded at her.

"As do I," she said as her father whisked her below deck.