by Lois Richer
“They work perfectly at the hotel.” He chuckled when the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. He caught the tiniest hint of smugness before she resumed her scrutiny of the bay. “Am I bothering you?”
“No. I like to take a break here every day if I can manage it,” she said. “I never get enough of watching the whales.”
“They are amazing,” he agreed, studying the big dark mammals as they arched and dipped in the sparkling water. “By the way, how did that internet site work out for you?”
She turned to study him, her forehead pleated. “Internet site?”
“About adoption. Remember, I gave you the address on the train?” Jack frowned when Alicia quickly slewed her eyes back to the water.
“Oh, that. I haven’t gotten round to it yet.” She sounded as if she was in no hurry.
“But I thought—” It was none of his business. Alicia had seemed eager to continue her search but maybe something had changed. “You look happy today.”
“I am. When you look at all this—” She waved a hand to encompass the beach, the shore, the sky. “Doesn’t it make you think of God’s greatness?”
Like that, Jack’s good mood dissipated.
“Actually,” he said, his eyes on the grounded ship peeking out of the water, “when I see the MV Ithaca over there, grounded on this shoreline, where it’s been since 1960, God’s greatness isn’t what comes to mind. He abandoned that ship and its crew here.”
“An eighty-mile-an-hour gale and a broken right rudder caused the problem,” she corrected quietly.
“A problem God could have prevented.” Jack clamped his lips shut, determined to say no more. He’d vowed the day he arrived in Churchill not to rehash his resentment toward God anymore. Simone was dead. Neither his anger nor his bitterness would bring her back.
“You’re angry at God,” Alicia said quietly.
“I suppose you think that’s terrible,” he said, trying to stem the emotions he felt inside.
“I think it’s perfectly normal.” Alicia smiled gently. “I’ve been there myself. But it didn’t help me much.”
Jack frowned. “Meaning?”
“Well, stuff happens. I don’t know why. You don’t know why. But does it matter why?” She shrugged. “The important thing is what comes next.”
“Next?” Jack felt he’d lost track of the conversation.
“The past happened. Can’t be changed. So now what are you going to do?” Alicia’s eyes met his. “You only have one choice. You have to keep going.”
“To where?” She made moving on after Simone’s death sound so simple when in fact it was the most painful thing he’d ever done. “To what?”
“Now that’s the hard part,” she said very quietly.
By the sound of her voice, Jack had a hunch Alicia had gone through a dark time of her own.
“When you’re brought to your knees, what do you grab on to? What do you use as your reason for going on, for not giving up? You have to have something to cling to or you’ll sink into a black pit of bitterness and depression.” Her gaze slid from him to the rippling water beyond.
Jack realized then that Alicia understood where he was in his life. He saw it in the rigid line of her shoulders, in the way her restless fingers threaded and undid. From the faraway look on her face, he knew she’d slid back to a bad time in her life and saw again the struggles she’d surmounted. Once more Jack yearned to know more about her. Alicia might have sank into the black pit she spoke of, just as he had. But somehow she’d pulled herself out.
“What happened to you?” he murmured.
For a moment she didn’t move. Then slowly her head turned and she looked straight into his eyes, her own black with secrets.
Tell me, he urged silently.
“It doesn’t matter what puts you there, Jack,” she said in a soft voice. “What matters is that you let God pull you out and help you get on with your life.”
“I’m not sure I can do that,” he admitted.
A slow smile transformed her face.
“That’s what I’m saying. You can’t. God can.” She rose, emptied the dregs of her coffee onto the sand and shoved her cup into her bag. “I better get back to work.”
Jack walked beside her, silently mulling over their conversation as they climbed the hill. At his truck he stopped, put a hand on her arm. She drew away immediately but he ignored that.
“Thanks, Alicia.”
“I didn’t do anything.” She smiled at him. “But you’re welcome.”
He let her walk about ten yards before he called her name. She paused, turned and raised one eyebrow in a question.
“Don’t you think we should have a planning session about the sod house soon?”
A troubled look filled her face. She nibbled on her bottom lip for several minutes before she finally nodded. “When? Where?”
“Tomorrow night? At Lives so we can include the boys?” When she nodded again he checked with his sister, then turned back to Alicia. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.” She studied him a few seconds more, then, with her long-legged stride, she crossed the road and quickly jogged toward her shop.
Almost as if she was running away.
From him? He hoped not.
Jack climbed into his truck, determined to ignore the curiosity that burgeoned inside him about this amazing woman.
*
“Do you remember anything about my case, Mrs. Endersley?” Having poured out her history, Alicia held her breath, hoping against hope.
Please, God…
“I have a murky memory of you and later, of placing your baby—a boy, wasn’t it?” the social worker finally said in a thoughtful tone.
“Yes, that’s right.” Excitement bubbled inside Alicia. Maybe at last—
“But I don’t recall where I placed him,” Mrs. Endersley said. “And I wouldn’t be able to find out because I’m retired now. I have no access to the records. You’d have to go through channels.”
“What does that mean?” Alicia’s frustration built as the woman described a number of forms the government required to release information, forms she couldn’t fill out without asking for help. Doing that would reveal her illiteracy.
“But even if you do go through all that, I’m not sure anyone would tell you where the child is now,” Mrs. Endersley said.
“Why not?” Alicia felt her stomach drop. “I only want to make sure he’s safe, loved.”
“I’m sure you do,” the social worker said in a mollifying tone. “But remember, you signed a document giving up all right to know anything more about him.”
“I did?” Alicia tried to recall it, but she’d suppressed the memories from those awful days too well. “I can’t remember.”
“What year did you say it was?” Mrs. Endersley listened, then sighed. “Yes, you would have signed that document. They were mandatory then. We couldn’t have given your baby to the adoption agency without such a form. Now, of course, things are often much more lenient. People are more willing to work out a way for the birth mother to keep in touch….” Her voice trailed away.
Alicia felt her tenuous grasp on the lead to her child slipping away. But she couldn’t give up yet.
“You’re saying there’s no way for me to find out where my son is?” The weight of not knowing pressed down on her shoulders. “No way at all?” she pleaded.
“The only thing I can think of, other than filling out the papers I told you about and waiting to see if the government grants your request, is to personally contact the adoption agency and ask if they’ll release the information to you,” Mrs. Endersley said. “I must tell you that’s unlikely, unless there’s a pressing reason, like a life-or-death situation. Even then it doesn’t happen often. Only once in my memory, in fact.”
“I wouldn’t know who to contact. I don’t know what agency you used,” Alicia wailed as her heart dropped further.
“We used several. Let me think about i
t for a few days and see if I can remember which one I chose for your son.”
Alicia thanked her and reluctantly hung up the phone. Before she could run to the back of her shop and grab her purse to meet Jack, it rang again. Thinking the woman had forgotten some important fact, Alicia grabbed it eagerly.
“Alicia, it’s Nancy. Have you got a minute?” her friend asked. From the tone of her voice, Alicia knew she had to make time despite the fact that she was already very late and Jack would be waiting to pick her up so they could go to the meeting.
“For you? Of course I have time. How are you and Harold?” she asked, glad to hear a friendly voice.
“We’re fine. No, we’re worried,” Nancy corrected. “Mr. Parcet came to the Friendship Center this morning. He pretended he was there about a donation, but that wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t?” Prickles went up on the back of Alicia’s neck.
“No.” Nancy’s voice hardened. “He asked too many questions and he left without giving us a cent.”
Alicia’s blood froze. Her mouth went dry.
“He was trying to get information,” Nancy said.
The Friendship Center was a gathering place where those with Aboriginal heritage came to enjoy coffee with a friendly face, or perhaps to check out the local job situation, or to use the resources Nancy and Harold offered for free. Alicia had worked there before she’d come to Churchill. Mr. Parcet would have no business there, but clearly he’d uncovered her connection with Nancy and Harold.
“Did anyone tell him anything?” she whispered.
“I doubt anyone there knows enough to tell.” Nancy’s calm demeanor was definitely ruffled. “You’ve been in Churchill for seven years and you haven’t kept in touch with anyone back here but us, have you?”
“No. So I don’t have to worry.” Alicia licked her lips as hope simmered inside.
“Not worry,” Nancy agreed. “But you should be aware that he’s pulling out all the stops to find you. I told you, this is important to him. He wants that money.”
Silence stretched between them as each remembered that awful time so long ago. Finally Alicia found her voice.
“I’ve been trying to figure out where the baby was placed, to make sure he’s safe. I contacted my former social worker but she doesn’t remember.” She exhaled her frustration. “I haven’t any more leads, but there’s a man here who’s trying to find his daughter’s birth mother. He gave me a website address. Could you do some research on your computer?”
“I’d love to, Alicia. I want to make sure your child is out of that man’s reach as much as you do,” Nancy said in a hard tone.
“Thanks. I don’t know how useful this will be, but it can’t hurt to check it out. I never imagined it would be so difficult to uncover an adoption.” She turned to find Jack walking toward her. She’d been so intent on the conversation she hadn’t heard him enter. How much had he heard? “I have to go, Nancy.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I learn something,” her friend promised.
“I’ll call you soon. Thanks for the warning.” Alicia hung up, collecting herself as she did. But when she glanced at Jack, her smile faltered. His eyes gave away his irritation.
“When you called you said you’d be ten minutes,” he said with an edge to his voice. “I’ve been waiting for ages.” He tossed a meaningful glance at her clock.
“I know and I apologize.” Alicia sought for conciliatory words. “I was already running late and then I had back-to-back phone calls, important calls. I couldn’t ignore them. I’m so sorry, Jack. I know your time is valuable and I appreciate you offering to work with me on the sod house project.” Relief flooded her that he wasn’t asking questions about whatever he’d overheard. “I’m ready now.” She grabbed her jacket and her handbag.
Alicia hadn’t eaten supper, but hopefully Laurel would have the usual evening snack for the boys and she could eat that. If not, she’d make some toast later.
“Ignore my bad mood, okay? Everybody gets caught on a call sometimes, especially if you’re self-employed.” Jack sighed heavily, rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck from one side to the other. “You’re the chairman. The meeting can hardly start without you. ”
Alicia wanted to ask what had prompted his bad mood but figured now was not the time. She also ignored the opportunity to explain her phone call. Instead she followed him outside, locked the store door and climbed into his tired old truck.
When they were finally moving toward Lives, she asked, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“No.” He grimaced. “It’s been a lousy day. I don’t know if I’m going to be much use tonight.”
She leaned back. “Such a gorgeous evening. I should have walked to Lives and saved you the trouble of waiting for me.”
“That’s a long walk,” he said, studying her for a moment. “Have you done it before?”
“Sure. I like to walk. There’s freedom in getting outside and heading in any direction you want.” She saw a question in the glance he shot her way and wished she’d kept silent.
“Maybe I should have walked.” He clamped his lips together as if to stem the rest of his remarks.
“You know, Jack, sometimes talking helps,” she offered.
“Talking about Simone never seems to help,” he said, his voice hard.
“Because you’re angry at God.” Ah, so it was about his wife. Alicia tried to think of something helpful.
“It’s not just anger,” Jack said as he turned onto the road leading to Lives. “It’s also frustration, maybe even disappointment. I trusted God for many years. But now it feels like He let me down. What was the point of her death?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say to comfort Giselle when she starts crying.”
“Why do you have to say anything?” Alicia murmured.
“Because that’s my job. I’m her father,” Jack said in a tight voice. “I’m supposed to make it better.”
“Do you honestly think you can do that?” she said quietly. “What can you possibly say or do that would make losing her mother acceptable?”
Jack was silent for several minutes. Finally he gave her a lopsided smile. “How did you get so smart?”
“I’m not smart. Just experienced. After I lost my parents, I had a hard time. I was raised to depend on my faith, yet, for the first time in my life I couldn’t make it work. I didn’t feel like a Christian. I felt abandoned, angry at God—probably a lot like you’ve been feeling,” she admitted. “And I got stuck, mired in those feelings.”
“So? What changed?” He pulled in next to Laurel’s van at Lives Under Construction and switched off the key. Then he turned to face her, waiting.
“A friend helped me understand that even if I knew why my parents had died, they’d still be gone and I’d still be alone.” Alicia smiled. “She said I needed a controlled burn so I could get on with my life.”
Jack blinked. His eyes widened. “A—”
“Controlled burn,” she repeated with a grin. “You’ve heard reports about all the recent forest fires, haven’t you? How they rage uncontrollably?” She waited for his nod. “Well, this friend of mine is a fire management specialist in the Yukon. She believes in being proactive, burning some of the forest before a wildfire uses it as tinder and goes out of control. She suggested I practice being similarly proactive in my personal life.”
“Uh, I don’t see—” Jack’s confusion was evident in his blue eyes. She could get lost staring into those gorgeous blue eyes.
Focus, Alicia.
“Basically she meant I should face the loss, get angry if I needed to and rant till I had nothing left. She advised me to get rid of all the pent up garbage that was festering inside me, then do whatever it took to get to the next stage of living.” She shrugged. “So I did and was finally able to move on with my life.”
Alicia wouldn’t tell him she’d had to go through the same process after Mr. Parcet’s attack or that those wounds had never
fully healed. Jack didn’t need to know about her pathetic past and, besides, she didn’t want to see him withdraw with horror on his face the way people who knew about her past always did.
“She sounds like a good friend.” He pulled his keys from the ignition. “Is that who you were talking to about finding the adopted person you’re looking for?”
He said it so matter-of-factly it took Alicia a moment to realize he had heard part of her telephone conversation. Hopefully he hadn’t heard her ask Nancy to look up that website. She couldn’t imagine admitting to Jack that she was unable to read.
“Don’t tell me if you don’t want, Alicia. I’m not trying to pry.”
“I was talking to my friend Nancy. She’s not the fire management specialist. She works with Native people.” Alicia wasn’t going to say any more. “Shall we go in? I hate to waste Laurel’s time. She’s so busy, but we must include her in this.”
“Yes.” Jack walked with her toward the door. “If it concerns Laurel’s boys, it concerns her.” He knocked once, then held the door open for her.
Alicia walked through, mentally steeling herself for the rush of feeling being near him always brought. She also tried to mentally prepare for the meeting ahead. She didn’t know Jack well, but she knew him enough to recognize that he was organized, liked lists and would question anything his detective brain found puzzling.
She’d have to be on guard lest she give herself away.
Alicia ignored the voice in her head that demanded to know why it was so important she didn’t give handsome Jack Campbell reason to think less of her. Just because she felt this buzz inside whenever he was around didn’t mean he could ever be more than a friend. Besides, she wasn’t comfortable around men. Hadn’t been since the attack.
Yet somehow Jack was different. Was that why she’d begun to accept courtesies from him that she’d always spurned? Her skin prickled when Jack’s fingers curled around her elbow, but not because she was afraid of him. More because she had this inner certainty that Jack wouldn’t hurt her. Was the buzz he caused due to the attraction that continued to grow despite her efforts to quell it?
