Read CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New for Free Online

They saw Kip enter our small cabin, while their dogs spent the days and nights, rain or shine, out-of-doors. They knew me to be a married woman, but they had never seen children at our home. The conclusion was that I had substituted a dog for the child I did not have.
    Had I? Could the Indian women actually think that Kip, as much as I loved him, could take the place of the child I longed for? Never! If only they knew, I thought. If only they could understand my pain.
    I turned and went around the trading post in the opposite direction so I would not need to confront the Indian women. It was a long detour, but I needed the long walk. I had to have time to think, to sort things out, to recover from the hurt.
    I walked briskly while the tears streamed down my cheeks, praying as I walked. I had never thought it possible to be so lonely, so shut off from one’s world.
    At length I was able to get a firm hold on my emotions. I decided I would not engage in self-pity even though the days ahead did look bleak. I have my Lord, I told myself. He has promised to be with me even to the end of the world. For a few moments I felt that I must indeed be very near to the end of the world, my world, but I jacked up my courage and lifted my chin a little higher. God had promised He would never leave me nor forsake me. That held true on a city street, in a rural teacherage, or in a remote part of the North.
    Besides, I had Wynn. Though his job took him away during the day and often into the night, still it was a comfort to know that he would be back and that he loved me and understood my needs and my longings.
    And I had my “dog child.” I smiled to myself. Kip might not be the companion I desired, but at least he was someone. I could talk to him, walk with him, and appreciate the fact that I was not entirely alone. Yes, I was thankful for Kip. It seemed he might be the only friend I would have in this settlement.
    When I reached home, Kip met me at the door. His tongue teased at my hand and his curly tail waved a welcome flag. I patted his soft head.
    “You won’t understand a word of this,” I said softly, “but in the village they think that you are my pampered ‘child.’ Well, you’re not the child that I wanted, but at least you are a friend. Thanks for that. It looks like it might be just you and me here.” I stopped to brush away some unbidden tears. “So—somehow we’ve got to make it on our own. It’s not going to be easy—but I think we can do it.”
    Kip looked into my face and whined. He seemed to sense that I was troubled.
    Then I made conscious effort to push the hurt from me so that I would be able to have a cheerful face for Wynn’s return. I did not want him to be burdened with the pain I was feeling. When Wynn entered our cabin I nodded toward the new supply of matches.
    “Good,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t forget. My supply pack is getting low, and I have a feeling that winter might be arriving any day now.”
    Wynn was right. In just two days’ time, a north wind blew in a storm. It came howling around us with the wrath of the Indians’ storm gods. In a few short hours, our settlement was covered with ten inches of snow.
    From then on we lived with the cold and the wind. Each day more snow seemed to add to our discomfort. I kept busier now, and I guess that it was good for me. Bundled against the elements, I was constantly working just to keep our water supplied, our fires fed, and our clothes clean.
    Kip and I still found time for walks—by the frozen stream to the frozen lake over frozen ground. I took the snowshoes and he plunged ahead breaking trail. We always came home refreshed from our outing and ready to stretch out before the open fire and let its warmth thaw our frost-stung bodies.
    At night, when the supper was cleared away and Wynn sat at the crowded little table to do reports, I pestered him with all of the details of his day. He never rebuked me for my chatter—indeed, he