Elsa looked down at the grave, as if choosing her words carefully. Kaatje knew it would be difficult for her friend to find anything good to say about Soren. She was glad Elsa was taking the awkward task for her.
“Let us pray. Father God, thank you for the sunshine on our backs and the sea breeze on our faces. Thank you for the good you created in Soren. His laughter, his optimism, his hope for the future. He had so much potential, Lord. Be with Kaatje, Christina, and Jessica as they move on in life without husband and father. Amen.”
Kaatje turned away, the tears on her cheeks dry by now. She accepted the condolences of those around the grave and then watched as they moved down the hillside. Even Elsa somehow knew that she wanted to remain alone with her children, and she left them with quick kisses to their hands and tears in her eyes. Kaatje stood, with an arm around each child, looking out to sea. There had been no real hope of salvation for Soren—he’d never seen his own need of it. She thought of those good things that Elsa had scrounged up in her prayer about Soren. It had probably taken all her friend could muster to come up with even those words. Kaatje was thankful for what had been spoken. And thankful he’d left her two beautiful daughters.
“Your Auntie Elsa was right,” Kaatje said, squeezing the girls’ shoulders. “Your father died in a horrible way. But let’s remember all the good things about him, shall we? His laughter. No one could laugh like Soren. And his vision. He was always so optimistic.” She knelt in front of them and looked from one sad, confused face to the other. “I sincerely hope that you have inherited his laugh, his hopeful nature. That would be his gift to you. Something we could celebrate in your father’s memory.”
“But he almost killed Mr. Walker,” Christina said in consternation. “He almost killed you. Isn’t that bad?”
“Yes. That was very bad. But your father was sick, confused. He made a poor decision, like when he decided to leave us in Dakota. But I honestly don’t think he meant evil. At least at the start. He simply fell into the devil’s hands again and again. It is sad, isn’t it?”
Jessica nodded, huge, billowing tears in her eyes. “I wanted a father. I wanted him to live with us.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Kaatje’s thoughts went to James. Perhaps there was still a chance that they would one day have a father… “Will you two pray with me?”
They nodded as one.
“Dear Lord, we pray that you will be with us as we mourn Soren’s passing. Please give us thy comfort and strength. Sustain us all our days through. And let us be right with you, Father, throughout our lives, that we may someday know heaven’s grace. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Amen.”
She rose and walked back to the roadhouse, holding tightly to each of her girls, feeling some peace. At last her life with Soren was at an end. And the future, however bleak it looked, was at least hers. There was no husband in the shadows, half in her life, half out. It was just her, Christina, and Jessica, as well as their loyal friends.
And maybe, by the grace of God, James.
On the second day, James awakened. Elsa had been walking past his room with an armload of linens when she heard Kaatje exclaim, “Oh, James! You’re awake! Welcome back.”
Elsa leaned her forehead against the doorjamb and whispered a silent prayer of thanks before entering the room. If James could recover, all would be well again. She was sure of it. “What’s this? Our patient finally decided to rejoin us?”
“Yes, yes,” Kaatje said. “Isn’t it wonderful?” She stroked his forehead, pushing dirty hair back, smiling into his eyes.
His eyes did not smile back, in fact, he looked troubled. “I—I’m having trouble moving my legs.”
Elsa sat down in a chair on the other side of him. “There was a bullet, James. Lodged right by your spine. You had lost so much blood from your thigh wound, that we were afraid to even try for it. I’m sorry. I hope we made the right decision.”
“A decision’s a decision,” James said matter-of-factly.
There was a knock at the door. Karl. “He’s awake! Hello, James.”
“Karl.”
“Memory’s all right, I’d say, if you’re remembering names. Do you know what year it is?”
“Eighteen eighty-nine.”
“Who is the president of the United States?”
“I was hit in the shoulder and back, not my head. I’m fine. That way.”
Karl frowned. “What is it? Pain?”
“Yes, that. But moreover, I’m having trouble moving my legs.”
Kaatje whisked away the blankets, exposing legs covered in pajamas. His feet were bare. “Can you move your toes, James?”
The patient frowned and furrowed his brow in concentration. There was a small wiggle. Then he gasped.
“What? Are you hurting?” Kaatje asked.
“No, not that. Soren. What happened to Soren?” His eyes were desperate, searching as if he’d just remembered the awful ordeal.
“He is dead, James,” Karl said. “As I understand it, you shot back when he hit you. Then, from the ground, he shot at you and Kaatje.”
“You covered me,” Kaatje said. “Saved me from the bullet with your back.”
James sighed. “I’m sorry, Kaatje. I never meant to kill him. Just stop him.”
“I know that. You had little choice in the matter. I’m so sorry … for not stopping it myself … before it got started.” She started crying again. “How? How could you have done that?” James asked. “I keep asking myself that … time and … time again.” “You come to no conclusion?”
“No.”
“Then you must not punish yourself over it. What’s done is done, Kaatje. I am only sorry that it had to be done in such a fashion. Did the girls see what happened?”
Kaatje nodded. “It was horrible. You in a pool of blood, Soren.”
James sighed again. “We’re going to have to pray. For all of us. That we might get past all this. But especially for the girls.” His thoughtfulness, in the midst of his own crisis, touched Elsa. He truly was a generous, giving man. A man Kaatje deserved. If only he could get well! Walk again!
“You’re perspiring again,” Elsa said. “We had better let you rest.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Kaatje said. Elsa and Karl left them and walked down the stairs and out to the porch. They sat down to talk. There were thunderstorms brewing. A great, dark cloud in the distance sputtered lightning bolts and grumbled ominous thunder.
“I need to get the ship out deeper and get her anchored,” Karl said, eyeing the cloud. “I don’t like to leave her there with only that small pier to hold her.”
“Do what you must, Captain.”
He rose as if to go, but the second mate was rushing down the pier, she assumed to ask him the same question. Karl met him halfway with instructions and then returned to her. “Elsa, I was thinking. Perhaps we should take James back with us to Seattle. I’m due to pick up the guests in Juneau the day after next. We could stop here on the way back south. Get James into a proper hospital and let the doctors look at him. See if they think he should undergo surgery and have that bullet removed.”
“It would ease my mind, at least, to know I did the right thing.”
“You saved his life. You got the wounds to stop bleeding, sewed them up tight.”
“Perhaps leaving him without legs for the rest of his life.”
“At least he lives.”
“How would you feel if you were paralyzed? Would you be glad to live?”
He did not answer her right away. “It would be harder to feel like a real man, a provider, now that there’s you and the children to think about.”
Elsa nodded. “Perhaps you could speak to him,” she suggested gently. “As a man who could empathize with his position.”
“Perhaps.” But there was little hope in his voice.
James refused to go anywhere, refused the idea the day Karl suggested it, and the day after. When the Fair Alaska was about to leave withou
t them, Kaatje began to lose hope. But as if deposited by God himself, Tora and Trent returned home. Their exuberance at seeing old friends was quickly hushed as they heard the news of Soren’s death and James’s struggle. He had lost over twenty pounds in two weeks, eating little more than clear broth and water, and he vomited even that up. More and more, Kaatje worried that he was willing himself to die.
It was Tora who reached his soul, awakened his spirit.
The day she and Trent arrived, she spoke with Elsa in low tones downstairs, then the two of them rushed to Kaatje and James. Kaatje had been reading to James from the new National Geographic magazine and looked up in surprise after the quick knock. “Tora!” she exclaimed, rising and hugging her friend. “And, Trent! Don’t you two look refreshed and happy!”
She looked Tora over again, wondering if that glow in her eyes signaled pregnancy or simply happiness, then dismissed the idea. It was not the time nor the place to ask. Tora immediately sat down beside James’s bed and took his hand.
He offered her and then Trent a wan smile. “Welcome home,” he said, grimacing as he struggled to sit higher against his pillow. Kaatje rushed to help him.
“Thank you,” Tora said. “I hear you’ve been leading an uneventful life around here.”
“It has been kind of dull,” he answered in kind.
“And we hear you refuse to go to Seattle for expert medical care?” Trent stated, worrying his hat with his hands.
“I have all I need. If I die, I die.”
Kaatje felt as if he had struck her in the stomach. Never had she heard such words leave his lips. There was little hope, just desperation and sorrow.
“Listen, here, mister,” Tora commanded. “You will not speak that way again. You have been spared. And look! You have the loveliest nurse available.” She rose and went to Kaatje, making her blush. “Which should be reason enough to live. So buck up!”
“Tora,” Trent warned.
“No! You paid this man good money to get Kaatje through the Interior alive and well. He did. If he did that, he can get himself through this.”
“Tora,” Kaatje said, adding her own warning. She was being so hard on him! Couldn’t she see how weak and frail he was?
“No,” she insisted. “Our Lord has spared your life, James Walker. Are you going to spit in his face by lying down to die? I think not.” She leaned closer to him, as if examining every pore on his face. “You’re made of more than that, much more. It’s in you. You just have to reach for it. Where is it, James? Where’s the strength, the gumption that gave you the might to fight off a bear for Kaatje? To ride the river with a woman on a mission you could never understand? To stand beside Kaatje, honorable to the last, as Soren tried to win her back? No, there is great strength within you, James Walker. Use it.”
She stared into his eyes for a long, uncomfortable, silent minute.
And then James laughed. It pained him to laugh—Kaatje could see by his wincing how much it hurt—but he couldn’t stop. And the sound of it made her laugh too, then Trent, and finally Tora.
“Who let this ball of fire into the room?” James asked, when he was finally able to speak.
“That would be me,” Trent said ruefully. “Do you wish for me to take her outside where she can burn without singeing anyone else?”
Tora tolerated his teasing with good humor. She had known what she was doing. Exactly what she was doing. And Kaatje was grateful. Tora had said all that Kaatje had wanted to say since the day James had awakened and started losing ground. Trent urged his wife to her feet, to lead her out, but Tora resisted for a moment more. “I’ll be back at suppertime. And I want to see you eat something besides broth.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Kaatje smiled. The Storms were back. It was so good to have them home, for many reasons. She took James’s hand and smiled into his eyes. “She said all I’ve longed to say myself.”
“It was good you didn’t. I wasn’t ready to hear that until today, I think. And somehow it was easier to hear coming from Tora.”
Kaatje nodded. Perhaps she was too close, too dear to say anything that might hurt him. She put her other hand around James’s, so it was nestled between both of hers. “James, I want you to go to Seattle. I want to take you to the hospital there, make sure we’ve done all we could. Perhaps there’s a procedure—”
“Perhaps not.”
“Still. In any case. Let’s go. Let’s go and make sure that we have done all we could with the resources God has given us. Karl will stop by tomorrow and has to leave, with or without us, for Seattle.”
“There will be other trips after that, through the summer, right?”
“Yes, but.”
James sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t know, Kaatje. Let me consider.”
It was her turn to sigh. “All right, James. You rest now. Dream of living a full life.” She bent and kissed his brow, feeling his eyes widen at her touch. Then she left the room.
The Fair Alaska prepared to ship out the next day. Tora and Trent were staying behind, needing to get to the Juneau Roadhouse to settle into their home and let the Bresleys settle into theirs in Ketchikan. After they had said good-bye to all their friends and family, Elsa placed an arm around Kaatje as they walked the gangplank to the ship. “He’ll be all right. We’ll find him the finest care.”
“I know it. I still worry. What if they want to operate?”
“Then we’ll pray that the operation will restore him to health.”
“And what if they … do not?”
“Then we’ll get through that, too. One morning at a time, Kaatje. Otherwise, you might get overwhelmed. Concentrate on the fact that he has at least agreed to go.”
The girls ran back to them, dressed in their finest dresses, which were already ill-fitting and snug. Elsa added shopping to her to-do list. And while they were out shopping for the children, perhaps she could find an elegant, simple ivory dress. Something in which to marry Karl.
“Elsa?” Kaatje had obviously been speaking, and Elsa flushed at her self-centeredness. Her friend was in anguish, and there she was, daydreaming about her wedding to Karl!
“Forgive me. What were you saying?”
“I was saying that while we’re in Seattle and James convalesces, we should go shopping.”
Elsa laughed. “I confess I was just daydreaming about a visit to Madame de Boisiere.”
“Oh, wonderful! That’s something happy to keep my mind off of James.”
“We’ll come up with other ways to keep your mind, and your girls, occupied.”
“Good. Anything.” They reached the top of the gangplank. “Point me toward my room, will you?”
After directing Kaatje to her quarters, Elsa watched her go and prayed for the hundredth time that James would find health, and Kaatje, happiness.
Her own happy husband-to-be gathered her in his arms. “Alone, at last.”
A giggle behind them told them they were not, and Karl immediately dropped his warm arms. She felt a jolt of sorrow at his absence. “Girls, why don’t you go and find your rooms?” she told Christina and Jessica. “Try 103, right by your mother’s room. Mrs. Hodge already took Eve to our quarters.”
“Next to the captain’s quarters,” Christina said slyly.
“Are you two ever going to get married?” Jessica asked innocently.
“As fast as we can,” Karl said, taking Elsa’s hand.
“As soon as we get James back to health,” Elsa added.
They nodded as one and then disappeared behind the door Kaatje had gone through earlier.
“We have to wait on James, eh?” Karl asked, pulling her toward him for a warm hug. He kissed her hair and then moved back, obviously not wishing to be caught again. It was unseemly. But so unavoidable…
She took his other hand and looked him in the eye. “I need to wait. I want everything to feel right. You understand? And right now, all is not well. Let us get James to some decent medical care, Kaatje and the girls
settled. When we’re sure of that, then we’ll marry. In Seattle, if necessary.”
“What about Tora?”
Elsa smiled. “She gave me specific instructions to marry you just as soon as I could. To not wait as she waited on me. I think her honeymoon gave her … new perspective. Would you mind? Marrying me alone? Perhaps with just the children?”
“Not at all.” He stepped closer and caressed her face. “I want to marry you anytime, anywhere, Elsa. As soon as possible. I only want you to be satisfied. So tell me when all is right, will you?”
“The second it is.”
twenty-eight
Kaatje paced the floor, wringing her hands as she awaited the surgeon’s arrival.
“It will be all right,” Elsa said for the hundredth time, almost as if to reassure herself.
“I know,” Kaatje returned in a monotone. Inside, she could see the surgeon emerging from behind the heavy wooden door, telling her that James had died in surgery.
Prior to the operation, he had informed them all, in very grave terms, that it was dangerous, a risky operation. It was James who ultimately decided to take the risk, as it had to be James. It was worth it, he told her in a whisper, to have the chance at someday standing by her side. “As your man,” he said, staring into her eyes.
“Do you not realize,” she had urgently whispered back, “that you are my man already? That there is no one else who could ever replace you? You don’t have to do this, James, to be with me.”
“I have to do this,” he had said, “for me first. And for you. And for the children.”
So it was with tears in her eyes that the nurses herded her out the night before in order that “Mr. Walker can get his rest.” She had not even been allowed to see him that morning before surgery. Elsa had said that they expected to start about noon. It was five now. How long could they keep his back open? A gaping wound? There was gangrene to worry about and…
Northern Lights Trilogy Page 99
