Under the Midnight Sun

by Tracie Peterson

  While boys had never before held much interest to her romantically, in the last few months Tayler had begun to think that maybe marrying one day wouldn’t be so bad. Emerson liked a good adventure, and it was possible he wouldn’t mind the fact that his wife did as well.

  “Hey, Tayler, that sure smells good.” Emerson gave her a wink as he passed by.

  “Well, I hope you’re hungry. I burned a few of them just for you.”

  Dad laughed in the background as splashes of water sounded behind her. “Actually, I don’t think the boys should be allowed to eat any of the fish until they help me clean up the mess.”

  Tayler joined in on the laughter. “I agree. I think they should have to wash all the dishes. Even after supper.”

  Joshua ran up at that moment, his hair dripping into his eyes. “Come on, Pop, you wouldn’t do that to two starving young men headed to Harvard, would ya?”

  “You bet I would.” Dad wiggled his eyebrows at Tayler and then looked back to the boys with a mischievous grin. “Now get over there and scrub while Emerson dries. I’ll help Tayler with the rest of supper.”

  With moans and dramatics from the boys spurring on the laughter, Tayler finished cooking the fish while Dad pan-fried potatoes he’d cut up into chunks.

  Dinner around the fire was another jovial affair, just like everything seemed to be up in the mountains on their camping expeditions. Nothing could be better—at least in Tayler’s mind. But as the boys talked about their dreams and how Harvard was a year away for them both, her heart sank. Melancholy washed over her, and the urge to cry hit her like a ton of bricks.

  Not one to normally give in to girlish emotions, she stood abruptly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to paint the sunset.”

  The boys seemed to ignore her—they were so caught up in telling a story from prep school—but Dad at least nodded at her as he listened to the boys’ story. A second later, he held up a hand to them and turned to Tayler. “Don’t forget a rifle, just in case.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tayler felt wounded. The boys didn’t even seem to care that she was leaving. They just kept on with their stories. Their banter continued as she grabbed her easel and supplies. Tears pricked her eyes. She wasn’t one of them. When they thought of their futures, they probably didn’t think of continuing these types of adventures with her. Not like she did. The truth hurt more than she wanted to admit. Childish dreams couldn’t guide her any longer. What did she want?

  Exasperation filled her entire being. Stupid girl tears. She didn’t have time for this.

  But the entire trek back up the ridge her thoughts pressed on her all the more. Tears escaped and spilled down her cheeks. The boys were fine without her. But in contrast, she wasn’t fine without them. They would leave again, and eventually, they’d go far away to college and maybe not even come back to Denver at all. The thought depressed her as she went to the stream to fill her jar with water and then set up the easel.

  Joshua and Emerson had each other as friends. Always together. Always backing the other up with support and slaps on the back.

  Whom did she have?

  Wiping her tears, she finished getting her supplies ready and waited for the sun’s show to begin. She had plenty of time to wallow in the boys’ leaving. She needed to enjoy the little time she had left with them on this trip. And she couldn’t allow them to see her crying. Not ever. She’d never hear the end of it. Then they wouldn’t want to bring a girl along anymore. And she desperately wanted to be included . . . as long as possible.

  And once they were gone? She’d just have to follow in Lady Bird’s footsteps and do it all on her own.

  Only, the thought of having adventures alone wasn’t nearly as appealing.

  Dipping her brush in the water, she looked to the sky above and shook off the dreary thoughts.

  Capture the picture. That’s what she needed to focus on. The deep pinks and oranges that changed the thin, wispy clouds from plain white to glowing masterpieces. The mountain carving a shadow below it as it blocked the light. This would be a beautiful painting, if she could simply get it on the canvas.

  Tayler pushed all depressing thoughts aside and poured herself into the work before her. Sometimes growing up was painful. While she couldn’t wait to be an adult, she missed the carefree life of her childhood. Besides, adulthood seemed to bring too many . . . responsibilities. Too many emotions and good-byes. And a great many rules and restrictions.

  With a sigh, she did her best to remove the clutter of her mind and focus on the colors. A dark lavender added just the right touch to capture the color of the mountains in the setting sun’s light.

  Laughter floated up to her from their camp below. Well, at least the guys were having fun. Did they miss her yet?

  Words escaped her lips, even though there wasn’t anyone to answer but the sky and herself. “Tayler, you know full well it’s best to get your mind off that.” With a huff, she blew a stray hair off her forehead. Even with the stern talking-to, her mind still went back to Joshua and Emerson. What would she do without them?

  A rustling in the grass to her left made her pause with her brush in midair.

  Whatever it was, it had to be small. The sound quieted and Tayler counted slowly to twenty. Nothing. Probably just a squirrel. Best to finish the painting while she still had light.

  Fully immersed in her work, she furiously set about getting the last of it done. Mother would love to have a new piece of art to hang. At least her daughter could do something feminine.

  Satisfied with the last streaks of pink, Tayler tapped her chin with the handle of the brush and stepped back a foot. The sun would completely set soon, and she’d do well to get back down the ridge before it was dark.

  She rinsed her brush and wiped it on the small towel she kept hung on the portable easel. As she stepped toward her bag, a small ball of black fur rambled over to it.

  She gasped.

  A bear cub.

  Intent on her canvas bag.

  With another intake of breath, she realized her mistake. Like an idiot, she’d left it on the ground a good ten feet away. And if that weren’t enough . . . she’d left cookies in there.

  No wonder the bear cub was after it.

  Tayler knew better. She really did. But this time, she’d been engrossed in her melancholy thoughts, and she’d made a mistake that might well cost her more than simple embarrassment. Not only had she not hung her bag—as she normally did—but she forgot the rifle. She’d never want to kill a baby animal, but she could have used something to scare it off. Because most certainly, there was a mama bear around here somewhere.

  Maybe the cub didn’t see her. Tayler moved and made some noise so the baby might get scared and leave.

  But no. The stubborn little thing glanced at her and stuck its nose back into her bag.

  “Shoo. Go on, now. We do not want a visit from your mother, do we?” Tayler waved her hands at it and inched toward her bag. The bear made a cute little growling noise and then began munching.

  “Great. You found my cookies. Just what I needed. Bear slobber inside my bag.” She stepped closer and raised her voice a bit. “Shoo. Go on.”

  But the bear had its head buried all the way inside the bag now. Maybe it was best to just go. Leave now before Mama showed up. Tayler backed away and then grabbed the painting and her easel in one swift move.

  As she turned to head back down the ridge, an all-too-familiar sound made her stop in her tracks. Deep huffs, followed by clacking of teeth.

  The mama had found her cub. And she wasn’t happy.

  Tayler turned her head to see but kept as still as possible. She knew she couldn’t outrun it—and shouldn’t try—but she also couldn’t appear as a threat. Oh, bother, why had she stopped for the painting and easel? As she turned around to see what the bear would do, she held her breath.

  The mama bear ambled over to her cub and gave it a sound thump on its backside. The little guy pulled his head out of the bag and made some cu
te—almost purring-like—noises.

  Another few large breaths and snorts from the mama as she stared Tayler down.

  Then she moved in front of the baby bear and closer to Tayler—making it clear she was protecting her cub. She clacked her teeth again.

  Tayler slowly set down the easel and painting, hoping she would look less threatening to the animal. She backed up two steps with her hands out.

  Three more steps. Oh, Lord, please forgive my stupidity.

  Two more steps. But something rustled behind her.

  At the sound, mama bear charged toward Tayler. Before she could even think of what to do, Tayler screamed.

  A shot rang out and Tayler covered her mouth. The mama bear snorted in her direction and then swatted her little cub, and they took off at a fast pace away from where Tayler stood.

  “Are you all right?” Emerson’s voice was beside her.

  Tayler watched the bear with her hand over her mouth. Shaking her head, she felt the tears again. How could she have been so reckless?

  “Emerson!” Tayler heard her father yell.

  “Everything’s fine,” Emerson called down to camp. “I just encouraged a mother bear to seek another location.” Tayler heard her father’s laugh, and it only served to make her cry all the more.

  Emerson moved closer, set the rifle down, and looked her over. “Are you hurt?”

  Without a second thought, she threw herself into Emerson’s arms and sobbed up against him. “No. Yes. . . . I don’t know.”

  His chuckle reverberated through his chest.

  Tayler pulled back and swiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “It’s not funny, Emerson, and you know it.”

  “Oh, Tayler. I’m not laughing at you. I promise.” He reached for her and put his hands on her elbows. “I guess I’m just surprised to see you crying. You’ve always been so . . . fearless. We’ve seen plenty of bears before.” He pulled her close and ducked his head as if daring her to meet his gaze, which made her insides do a little flip.

  She’d never been held by a boy before . . . well, other than her father or her brother. “It’s not about the bear. Well, okay, maybe it was a little about the bear . . . but now I know it was you and your scent coming that made her charge. I should be upset with you!” She smacked him in the chest and pulled away, the tears streaming down her cheeks in great big drops as her heart beat inside her rib cage. What a great explorer she was . . . screaming at the first sign of trouble. Embarrassment, anger, and grief all battled for center stage in her mind.

  “Hey, I was just bringing you the rifle because your dad was worried.” Emerson held his hands out as though surrendering. “Come on, what’s wrong? You can talk to me. We’ve been friends forever.”

  Before she could contain it, her words tumbled out. “Don’t you get it? The years of our camping and mountaineering trips like this are over! You and Josh have all your plans and success waiting for you, and I’m going to be left behind. For more etiquette lessons and finishing school and social gatherings. And that’s not who I want to be!” She lifted her hands in disgust. “I hate it. I hate that you both are going away. And the future will be different. You have no idea how tough it is being a girl.” Tears dripped from her chin, and she gave a huff of exasperation.

  “Ah, Tayler Grace . . . you know it’s not going to be forever.”

  “But what if you never come back?”

  “Why wouldn’t I come back? My home and my family are in Denver. And so are you. . . .”

  “Me?” Her voice squeaked on the word.

  Emerson raked a hand through his curly hair. “I thought you knew that I was sweet on you.” He licked his lips. “I was kinda hoping you would promise to wait for me.”

  Blinking rapidly, Tayler wasn’t sure what to think. Wait for him? As in—being in love and waiting for him to finish school so they could get married—wait for him? “I’m not sure I know what you . . . mean?” Her voice squeaked again, making her feel like a small child.

  “Come on, Tayler. I know you’re quite grown up now. Don’t you know that I think you’re the one for me? I mean, even our parents know it. They’ve been planning this for years.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “But what about all the girls you were talking about with Josh? The ones who go to the girls’ school across the way?”

  He blushed. “Aw, you know how guys talk. It’s all just talk. You must know that I’m your prince. . . .” He moved closer and closer.

  A light laugh escaped. “Well, you did scare the bear off, after you made it charge at me.”

  “Whadaya say, then? Will you wait for me and be my princess forever and ever?” He bowed before her in a sweeping and dramatic gesture. Then his look turned serious, and he stepped even closer. His shoes touched hers, and a tiny thrill shot through Tayler.

  “Yes.” She felt the heat creep up her neck. Emerson’s attention had been real. He wanted to marry her!

  “Promise?” Emerson reached for her hands.

  “I promise.” Tayler shivered as his nearness took her breath away.

  He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, shocking her into silence. It was only a peck, but still . . . Tayler had never been kissed before. Her eyebrows shot up and gone were any thoughts of tears.

  Emerson released her and winked, his fun-loving, boyish expression back in place. “That’s my girl. Now, come on. I’ll get your bag and you collect your painting.” He left her side and moved to where the bears had been only moments earlier.

  She put a few fingers to her lips and shivered. Was this what it felt like to be in love?

  SUNDAY, JUNE 1, 1919—

  TURNAGAIN ARM, ALASKA TERRITORY

  Kicking a rock along the railroad tracks with his hole-riddled boot, thirteen-year-old Thomas Smith slung his pack over his shoulder. Everything he owned was wrapped up in the tattered blanket he’d tied in a knot. But that was all right. He didn’t need a lot.

  When winter came back with a vengeance—as it was prone to do in Alaska—he’d have to find a coat and a better blanket.

  But he couldn’t think about that now.

  Food and work were bigger needs. He was on his own. Not by choice, but it had only been a matter of time before the missionaries kicked him out of their makeshift orphanage. Just like all the boys who were old enough to work and too big to feed and clothe anymore.

  The tracks stretched in front of him like a blank slate. What would his future hold? While he’d like to be confident and say he was a man and could take care of himself, there was a small part of him that still longed for a family. He’d never had one—at least not that he could remember.

  The ground vibrated and Thomas looked behind him.

  A short train with a cloud of smoke above its stack headed toward him.

  Thomas backed away from the tracks and adjusted his pack. Maybe they would throw some food leftovers at him like the train yesterday. It hadn’t been good, but at least it had been food, and his stomach was raw again today. Life as an orphan had taught him not to be choosy.

  As he waited for the train to pass, he forced himself not to think about food. Wouldn’t be a good idea to get his hopes up. He turned his head to watch, though. Just in case they threw something out for him.

  But instead of passing him up, the train began to slow. Thomas’s stomach twisted. He couldn’t be in trouble . . . could he? Taking a deep breath, he faced forward and kept walking.

  “Hey!” a deep voice shouted over the brakes of the train.

  Thomas turned. Lifted a weak smile and waved.

  A wiry man waved him forward from the railing. “Where’re you headed, kid?”

  Thomas shrugged.

  The man smiled, which made him seem kind, but that impression could be wrong. “You all by yourself?”

  This made Thomas a bit nervous. What would they do to him if he was? But then again, maybe the man could help him find a job. Honesty seemed to be the way to go. “Yes, sir.”

  With a nod,
the man hopped down from the train. “Were you the one we saw yesterday on these same tracks?”

  The question made him swallow. “Yes, sir. Should I not be walking here? I don’t want to cause any trouble. I’m looking for work.”

  Sighing, the man looked off toward the mountains and then back to Thomas. With his hands on his hips, the man looked down at Thomas’s shoes. “I might be able to help with that, but you have to let me know the truth first.”

  “The truth about what, sir?”

  “Where you came from. Did you run away from home?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Where’s your family?”

  “I ain’t got none, sir.” Heat filled Thomas’s cheeks.

  “Not anyone?”

  “No, sir. I’m an orphan.”

  The man’s brow furrowed—his smile gone. “Did you run off from an orphanage?”

  “No, sir. I got too big to clothe and feed, sir. So I’m on my own now.” Hoping his words sounded intelligent enough, he lifted his shoulders. He didn’t have a great education, but at least the missionaries had drilled into him that he had to have manners. Respect should go a long ways, shouldn’t it? Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes as exhaustion and hunger warred for his attention and his hope drained. “I’d best be on my way. Like I said, I’m just looking for work.”

  “Hold on.” The man held up a hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Thomas Smith, sir.”

  “That’s a fine name.” He rubbed his chin. “Ya know, I’ve been looking for someone to help me out. It’s a hard job, working on the railroad. Probably just have to run back and forth and fetch stuff at first until we put some meat on those bones of yours, but then you could work your way in other jobs.”

  The flame of hope in Thomas’s heart grew into a blaze. A job. An actual job! All he could manage was a nod as the man kept talking.