Summer of the Midnight Sun

by Tracie Peterson

  “I’m sure it is.” He headed for the door. “Just put the ledger away for now. We’ll talk about it later and see if we can work out an easier system. For now, I’m going to clean up. I’m starved. Oh, will there be biscuits?”

  She laughed. “Aren’t there always? I’ve never met a man who liked biscuits as much as you do.”

  “Doughnuts.” He said the word firmly as if it should mean something to Helaina. At her look of confusion, he added, “That’s one thing I really miss from civilization, as you call it. My mother used to make the best doughnuts.”

  “Maybe I can find a recipe,” Helaina offered.

  “That would be really nice.”

  He left her there and headed off to clean up. He thought it very kind of her to offer to make doughnuts, but still he wondered whether or not she’d ever adjust to life in Alaska. He was glad for her sake that she’d not made the trip north with the team on the Homestead. She would never have made it. It only made him wonder again—why? Why had she signed up for such a project? She hates the north—hates the isolation and the cold. So why did she want to be on the Homestead?

  Her lies in Nome came back to haunt him. She was clearly here to bide her time. But why? What was her interest in Jayce? What could compel a woman of her social caliber to follow him to the wilds of Alaska—for that was what she had done. Jayce had told him that Helaina was a last-minute addition to the team—one that had been frowned upon by everyone. Even the captain seemed unhappy about it, but he would say nothing on the matter.

  Now she was here, and Jacob knew she was miserable. She didn’t fit in with the natives, and she resented the Kjellmanns and their beliefs. At least she managed to put that aside and join them on Sundays for church, however. He thought she did this more out of desperation for some semblance of normalcy than for any desire to learn about God’s Word. Still, she had shown interest in his devotions at night. They had even settled into a strange sort of ritual where he would take up the Bible as the meal concluded each evening. He would always read from the Scriptures and sometimes they would discuss what the meaning was and why it should matter to them in this day and age.

  Jacob had to give her credit. Helaina had been open to the interpretations and understandings that he shared. She sometimes argued what she saw to be foolishness, but just as often she would ponder passages and ask him questions the following day. This had caused him to start praying for her. Whereas before he could see no reason why he should be saddled with this strange, angry woman, now he wondered if the Lord hadn’t brought her into his life for the purpose of sharing Jesus.

  After cleaning up, Jacob grabbed his Bible and headed back to the house. He could almost taste the squirrel stew. A smile crossed his face. He’d have to reward Ayoona for her help with Helaina.

  They ate in relative silence that evening. Jacob could tell Helaina had a great deal on her mind, and for once he found that he’d really like to know what it was that troubled her. He was on his second bowl of stew, still contemplating how he might approach the matter, when he heard her heave a heavy sigh.

  Jacob just decided to wade into the conversation, come what may. “You seem to be carrying the weight of the world. You aren’t still worried about those ledgers, are you?”

  “No,” she said, pushing back her bowl. She stared at the table and said nothing more.

  Jacob pushed ahead. “Can you not talk about what’s bothering you?”

  She looked up. “Do you honestly care?”

  Her question took Jacob by surprise. His answer startled him even more. “Yes. Yes, I care. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”

  “Do you remember our trip here from Nome?”

  Jacob laughed. “How could I not?”

  She smiled. “I know I was a burden. But do you remember our conversation about hopelessness and mercy?”

  “Of course, I remember. It’s only been a few weeks.”

  She leaned forward and folded her hands together atop the table. “I’ve thought about some of the things you said. Then last night you read from Matthew, and I’ve been troubled by it ever since.”

  “Why?” He took up his Bible and opened to the eighteenth chapter of Matthew. “Tell me and we can discuss it.”

  “Can we read it again?”

  “Sure.” He drew his finger down the chapter until he came to the twenty-third verse. “‘Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.”’

  “That was the law then, correct?” Helaina asked.

  Jacob looked up. “I suppose it must have been.”

  “So the king did nothing wrong in seeking justice. The man owed him and couldn’t pay him. The king had a right to receive his due pay.”

  “I can agree with that. The man owed a debt.” He looked back to the Bible. “Should I go on?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He found his place. “‘The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, “Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.” Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.”’

  “But he wasn’t obligated to do so,” Helaina said, stopping Jacob from going further. “The law said that he should pay his debt.”

  “Correct. The king showed mercy. The servant begged for more time. The king was moved by his circumstance and let him go.”

  “But the law clearly was on the side of the king. A debt was owed.”

  “And the king forgave that debt.”

  “Please read on,” she said, her brows knitting together.

  “‘But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, “Pay me that thou owest.” And his fellowservant fell down at his feet and besought him, saying, “Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.” And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt.”’

  “He did nothing wrong,” Helaina said, her tone quite troubled. “The man was entitled to be paid back. Just because the king forgave his debt, that shouldn’t imply that the man is obligated to forgive someone else’s debt. If you owed me twenty dollars and John owed you twenty dollars, and I told you to forget about paying me back, it shouldn’t obligate you to forgive John’s debt. The situation in this verse is confusing to me. It was a legal loan—a binding agreement.”

  “But the man was in the same position as his fellow servant,” Jacob replied. “He didn’t have the money to pay him at that time. The man never came to him and said, ‘I won’t pay you.’ He simply asked for more time. Who knows what the agreement might have been between the two men. Maybe it was such that the man had lent the money saying, ‘Pay me back when you can.”’

  Helaina considered these words for a moment. “But it was the servant’s right to put the man in prison. Just as it was the king’s right to put the servant in prison. The law is the law.”

  “But mercy is greater than the law.”

  “That cannot be!” she snapped, and for the first time there seemed to be real anger in her voice. “Nothing is above the law.”

  Jacob looked at her for a moment. “Do you not see this story for what it is really about? Let me finish the chapter.” He found his place quickly and continued. “‘So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly
Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.”’

  “That isn’t right,” Helaina said, leaning back and crossing her arms. “It’s not just.”

  Jacob shook his head. “How is it not just?”

  “The man was under no obligation to forgive the debt owed him just because the king had forgiven him. That makes no sense to me. The man owed a debt and was responsible to pay back that debt. Why should the servant be obligated—forced to break a contract with another—just because his contract had been cancelled out?”

  “He should have desired to do it. Mercy had been given him.

  Do you know what that’s like? Because I do. Remember I told you about being in jail—accused of a murder I didn’t commit? When I was let go, I knew what true mercy was for the first time in my life. I didn’t get to go free because of anything I’d done. I had no say in the matter. My friends went out and found a way to prove the truth—that was the only reason I was set free.”

  “But you weren’t guilty. You owed no debt. This man owed a debt, and I do not understand why, just because one person forgives, another is forced to also do likewise. God makes no sense to me in this—especially when that chapter concludes to say that I must forgive everyone—no matter the guilt or the crime.”

  Jacob closed the Bible and tried to think of a way in which he might convince her. Sometimes the Bible offered difficult truths. Obviously this was one of those times for Helaina. At least she hadn’t walked away from it or put it aside. She had mulled over this Scripture for over a day. There must be a reason.

  “You’re not a very forgiving person, are you, Helaina?” He wanted to take the words back the minute they were out of his mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken them aloud.

  “I forgive those who deserve to be forgiven,” she said.

  A thought came to mind. “And who really deserves to be forgiven?”

  She seemed to consider this for a moment. “Well, I suppose no one. If they break the law—they must pay the penalty. They don’t deserve to get out of whatever punishment is given.”

  “So do you believe forgiveness should be based on merit?”

  “I don’t know that I would find that to be true either,” she admitted.

  He nodded, feeling certain she would say something like this. “Who then merits forgiveness? Is it the person who is truly sorry?

  Is it the person who made a mistake? Is it the person who simply didn’t realize the crime?”

  “Ignorance of the law is no excuse,” she replied, sounding more like her old self.

  “So if it is left up to you, no one deserves to be forgiven.” He paused for a moment, then smiled. “Which I happen to agree with. No one deserves it. No one really earns it or merits it.”

  “Then what of this passage?” She was back to being confused.

  “This passage is not just about forgiveness,” Jacob said. He gazed deep into her blue eyes, hoping to somehow understand the pain that he saw there. “It’s about mercy—compassion. Neither man deserved forgiveness. The law was clearly in favor of the man to whom the money was owed. God wants us to understand that the law is clearly in His favor. We do not deserve forgiveness because of anything we’ve done to merit it. But God in His compassion shows mercy on us . . . and . . . He forgives. He’s asked for us to do the same.”

  “Threatened us to do the same, you mean.” Her words were laced with bitterness.

  “But, Helaina, if the love of God is in you—if you know that blessed wonder of being shown mercy—believe me, you’ll desire to show mercy in return. You’ll want to forgive . . . because in doing so, you’ll know God’s heart just that much better. You’ll feel His presence in that very action of forgiveness.”

  “I’ve never needed anyone’s forgiveness. I keep the law,” she said firmly and added, “I don’t compromise it.”

  “The Lord doesn’t compromise the law or do away with it. He found a way to satisfy it through Christ. He loves the law because the law reflects His holiness—His perfection. He doesn’t want you to forsake the law, but rather to understand the need for mercy . . . because you’re wrong, Helaina. You have needed someone’s forgiveness—you need His forgiveness. Because without it you will face an eternity separated from Him.”

  She held his gaze but said nothing. He could see that she still felt confused, but the time had come for him to let her make her choice. He prayed for her silently as he gathered his things. “The stew was perfect. Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” He started to leave, then remembered something.

  “I nearly forgot to tell you. I’ll be leaving for Nook tomorrow.”

  “Nook? Where is that?”

  “It’s a town up north. Nook is the native name; they call it Teller now. I’m delivering some young dogs. I should only be a few days, but you can never tell how things will go. We’re taking the pups by water, and they don’t always appreciate that mode of transportation. John will look after the dogs while I’m gone, so you won’t have to worry about that—although it would be good practice for you.”

  “Couldn’t I go with you? You know I’m not much use around here,” Helaina said, her voice sounding almost desperate.

  “No, there won’t be room for even one more person. Besides, I won’t be gone that long. You’ll do fine. Keep the store going and keep track of what people bring in to trade. We’ll figure it up later. For the most part, they know what things are worth. They are honest and good people. You won’t have any trouble from them.”

  ————

  Helaina spent a restless night contemplating the Bible verses she’d discussed with Jacob and facing the uncertain discomfort of his departure. She finally gave up trying to sleep about the time she heard the dogs start to bark and yip. This was a sure sign that Jacob was up. No doubt, as he gathered the dogs he would take to Nook, the other animals would be miserable—whining and howling their displeasure.

  She felt like whining and howling her own displeasure. “How can he just leave me here? No one here cares whether I live or die.”

  Helaina got up and dressed quickly. She wondered if she should make Jacob breakfast or if he’d take off before she would even have a chance to make anything decent. Looking around the room in complete dejection, she realized that she would miss Jacob. She hadn’t thought about Robert in days—maybe weeks. Truth be told, she hadn’t even thought about Stanley or Jayce or the job she’d come north to accomplish.

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  And then it came to her. Her interest in Jacob had taken a new form . . . and the thought terrified her. This can’t be. I cannot let myself care about him—nor let him care about me.

  “It’s wrong,” she murmured. “It’s all gone very wrong.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Helaina heard that the revenue cutter Bear was in the harbor and that they were offloading mail and other supplies for the village. Jacob had been expecting a supply of goods for the store, but Helaina had no idea if she would need to pay for it or arrange for the things to be brought to the store. Much to her relief, however, John appeared with a couple of envelopes and the announcement that he and some of the other men would be delivering several boxes for the store. His dark eyes seemed to watch her intently—almost as if he expected her to do something wrong. She felt they all watched her this way, and she hated it.

  “Thank you, John,” she told him in a clipped tone.

  He nodded and handed the envelopes over. “I’ll be back.”

  Helaina looked at the mail and realized one of the letters was for her. The other was marked Urgent and addressed to Jacob. The return address suggested it had come from the captain of the Homestead. This seemed very strange, given the man was supposed to be somewhere in the Arctic, where Helaina knew there would be no mail service.

  She opened her own letter and read the contents. The expedition association in Vancouver had written her to acknowledge that Jayce Kincaid had indeed bee
n with them for a considerable time in 1914 and into very early 1915. He was not a man given to long periods away from the job; in fact, he was just the opposite, often working over the weekend and well past the hours others put in. They further added that his service had been invaluable to them, and they hoped that he would be available to join them again soon.

  Closing the letter, Helaina tried to digest the information and make sense of it. She knew for a fact that Jayce had been in England working at the British Museum in 1914. At least a man calling himself Jayce Kincaid had been there. She thought it might be important to write to Stanley and let him know of this news. Maybe her brother could lend some kind of insight to the situation.

  Since John had still not returned, Helaina looked at the other letter in her hand. The word urgent caused her to contemplate whether she should just open the letter. What if someone were in trouble and needed Jacob’s immediate attention? Obviously it was important, or the captain would never have sent it. She decided to open it and risk Jacob’s ire.

  Dear Mr. Barringer,

  Our expedition has run into trouble, as you may have already heard. There has been sickness and problems with the ship, and we found it necessary to return home to make repairs and reconsider our next move. It is a great disappointment to us all.

  The urgency of this letter is to let you know that we want to secure your help immediately for our next journey. We are already making plans and would like to have your pledge for next year, along with your help in the planning. Your friend Mr. Kincaid has been an invaluable help with the dogs, and we are grateful that he managed to catch up with the crew.

  Helaina stopped and reread this portion of the letter several times. What in the world was the captain talking about? Jayce hadn’t caught up with the crew. He was with Leah Barringer. Or was he? Had Jacob lied to her? When Leah went to Ketchikan, had Jayce made his way on the revenue cutter north to rendezvous with the Homestead?