Brides of Alaska

by Peterson, Tracie;

  Rita wanted to run, but instead tears came to her eyes, and before she could control them, she was nearly hysterical. Mark got up and quickly offered her his handkerchief.

  “I’m sorry, Rita,” he said softly. He sat back down and waited for Rita to regain control of her emotions.

  “No,” Rita whispered. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re a good man and I can’t imagine why you would continue to care about me after all that’s taken place between us.”

  “The past is gone,” Mark offered. “I don’t hold anything against you and I hope you don’t hold anything against me.”

  “I don’t,” Rita said, shaking her head. “I just can’t deal with all of this right now. I don’t know what I feel or think. I was just trying to understand Christianity and where I stood with God and now this. I can’t do it, Mark. I can’t deal with you and God at the same time.”

  “But you’ve resolved your relationship with God. I was there, remember? I know that you’ve got a lot of questions, but they’ll all get answers in time.” Mark paused for a moment, still feeling disbelief for Rita’s display of emotions. “I know you care about me. No, I’m certain you love me,” Mark proclaimed.

  Rita dried her eyes and held back the torrent of new tears that threatened to flow. “I’m glad you’re certain, because I don’t know what I feel.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes before Mark surprised them both and got to his feet. “I do love you, Rita. There will always be a place for you back home. I’ll be there and you’ll know where to find me. Just remember this,” he added with a gentle smile, “I’m not the kind of man who gives up. I’m very patient and I can wait you out. Some day you’ll come to me and I’ll be there with open arms just for you, Texas Rita.”

  He threw some money down on the table and walked from the café, still carrying his coat. Rita stared after him in wonderment. He wasn’t mad or, if he was, he held it in so that not a single trace made itself known to Rita.

  She marveled at his confidence and peace. “How could he be so certain of his feelings?” she whispered. Yet, even as she questioned his actions, Rita knew in her heart that he was right. She did care for him. She did love him. But how was she supposed to deal with those feelings?

  Rita left the café and took the long way back to her aunt’s house. She had to think things through and, in spite of the cold, Rita took her time pondering the situation.

  “Aunt Julie was right,” Rita muttered aloud. “I’m afraid to trust Mark, just like I was afraid to trust God.” She fell silent and wondered if perhaps she was still afraid to trust God.

  “It’s all so new to me, God,” she whispered to the night air. “I know that I’m supposed to have faith and to trust, but You know that doesn’t come easy for me. Now Mark is asking for the same thing. He wants to marry me, Lord. What am I supposed to do?”

  She approached the Curtiss house and caught sight of the light in the window—Sam’s light, Julie’s light. The reminder of a love that had lasted through childbirth, death, wars, and all that came from the process of living.

  Rita thought of the way Sam would look at Julie. There had always been so much love in his eyes, and Rita had marveled at it even as a teenager. How could anyone ever share a love like that and make it last a lifetime?

  Rita looked up to the skies as if hoping that some celestial answer would be written across the heavens. Could it be possible that Mark loved her in the same way that Sam had loved Julie? Was it possible that Rita was throwing away her only chance for that kind of love?

  She made her way quickly into the house and nearly ran up the stairs to get to her aunt’s room. A light from beneath the door gave Rita all the prompting she needed.

  She knocked lightly and called, “Aunt Julie, are you still awake?”

  “Come on in, Rita,” Julie answered. “What’s going on?”

  Rita left her coat in the hall and crossed the room to her aunt’s bed. “I need to talk.”

  Julie smiled and patted the bed. “Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Rita lost no time. “Mark asked me to marry him.”

  Julie clapped her hands together. “How wonderful!”

  Rita frowned. “I told him no.”

  “You did what?” Julie questioned.

  “I told him no. Oh Aunt Julie, I can’t marry Mark. I don’t know how I feel about him. One minute I think I love him, the next minute I don’t think I even know the meaning of the word.” Rita threw up her hands. “How can I promise to love and cherish someone, when I’m not even sure what it means to love.”

  “But Rita,” said Julie, “you’ve known what it is to be loved and to love. You’ve had your family and friends—”

  “No,” Rita interrupted. “I never felt loved by any of my friends. I always kept them at arm’s length. It was my fault, but, Aunt Julie, I never let any of them get close enough to love them or for them to love me.”

  “But your family,” Julie protested, “they love you and surely you love them. You love me, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Rita replied. It hurt so much to think her aunt might question her love. “You’ve always been there for me. You’ve always loved me.”

  “Well then, what is it?” Julie continued. “Your mother and father love you. Your brothers and sisters love you. How can you say you don’t know how to love or be loved?”

  Rita hung her head. “I hardly know my brothers and sisters.”

  “Whose fault is that?” Julie questioned sternly.

  “I know it’s partially my fault,” Rita admitted. “But some of it is their fault.”

  “You can’t deal with other than what you, yourself, control. Your anger and alienation toward them is where you must begin. Let go of the past and the distances that separated you. When you get home, why not write each of them a long letter. Tell them how you feel. I think you’d be surprised at their response,” Julie suggested.

  “What about Mother?” Rita finally braved the question.

  “What about her?”

  “She never wanted me, Aunt Julie. I heard her say it. She can’t love me if she didn’t even want me.” Rita broke down.

  “Talk to her, Rita. Talk to her and let her explain. I know Beth loves you and I know it hurts her when she believes, by your actions, that you don’t love her,” Julie said, holding her arms open to Rita’s sobbing form.

  Rita fell into her aunt’s embrace like a small, hurt child. “I want her to love me, Aunt Julie. I want my mother to love me.”

  “Child, she already does. Give her a chance to show you,” Julie said in a calming way. “Give them all a chance, Rita. Your mother, God, Mark … let them show you how important you are to them. Let them love you.”

  Chapter 16

  Anchorage looked almost foreign to Rita. She realized how little attention she’d paid the town before the race. After living there for five years, she’d taken it for granted. Now, looking out from her hotel window, Rita found herself wishing she could be back in Tok.

  For over an hour she watched as the townspeople hustled to beat the clock. Traffic moved at a quick clip along the busy, inner-city streets, while pedestrians fought competitively for their right to cross intersections.

  Store windows sported huge signs that called the public inside to late winter sales and discounted prices. It was all so busy, so noisy, and completely out of sync with what Rita had just been doing for the last year.

  Rita was surprised to find that she missed the quiet of her woods and the vast openness of rural life. She missed the dogs and the roar of the wind through the trees. Even the northern lights would be difficult to see through the harsh city lights. Rita longed for home.

  “What am I going to do now?” she whispered to the city. “I don’t belong here and I want to go home. But should I go back?”

  And what of Mark? her heart questioned. He loved her and she knew she loved him. Dare she give up her independence and tear down the walls that separ
ated them? Dare she return his love as openly as he gave his?

  A knock at the door brought Rita back to reality. She crossed the room, opened the door, and found her parents on the other side.

  “Mom! Dad!” squealed Rita. She embraced them both at once and missed the look of surprise they shared over her shoulder. “I wondered when you were going to get here. How are you? How are the dogs?”

  “Fine to both questions,” August said with a laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed us.”

  “What makes you think you know better?” Rita questioned. “I did miss you and I’m very glad to see you here. In fact, I have something important to tell you both.”

  August and Beth steadied each other. With Rita it was hard to tell what she might have in mind. Over the years they’d learned to take her declarations in stride and knew better than to try and anticipate what their daughter might say.

  “Come and sit down,” Rita said, taking them to a small table. “There are only two chairs, so I’ll sit on the bed.”

  Her parents nodded and moved almost apprehensively to the chairs. Rita swallowed hard and tried to think of just the right words.

  “I did a lot of thinking out on the trail,” she began. “I know the reports of my foolishness have already reached the papers and television, so I realize how worried you must have been. I want to apologize for not calling you, but I had to think through a great deal.”

  August and Beth hung on their daughter’s every word. They had worried about her. Worried that her stubborn pride would claim her life and remembered having to sit by and wait until news of their youngest confirmed that she was safe.

  Rita paused for a moment. She still had a touch of pride that worried about her mother’s reaction to her declaration of faith. If Beth reacted smugly, Rita just knew she’d run from the room. Steadying her nerves, Rita continued.

  “Mark found me when I’d just about given up hope of going on. I’d lost the team and things looked pretty bad. I’d managed to make a windbreak by packing snow, but I knew I couldn’t last long without my gear and the dogs. Then Mark showed up and everything turned around. That night we talked a lot and I came to be sorry for the problems my stubbornness and independence have caused.”

  “What are you trying to say, Rita?” August asked.

  Rita drew a deep breath. “I guess I’m trying to apologize for the way I’ve acted in the past. I gave up my pride and accepted Christ as my Savior.” She waited and watched Beth for the reaction she feared, but the only thing she saw were the tears in her mother’s eyes.

  August nodded. “That must have been the hardest decision you’ve ever made.”

  Rita was amazed at the peace that settled over the room. She had been so sure of how her parents would respond that she’d literally spent hours deciding how she, herself, would react.

  “It was,” Rita finally replied.

  Beth wiped away the tears in her eyes but remained silent. Rita thought there was a gentler look to her mother. Was it Rita’s decision to accept Christ that made her so? Or was Rita just truly seeing her mother for the first time?

  A knock sounded at the door and Rita hesitantly answered it. There was still much more she wanted to say, especially to her mother. She didn’t like the idea of an interruption.

  “Yes?” she questioned the hotel employee who waited on the other side.

  “Is Mr. Eriksson here?”

  “Yes, I’m August Eriksson,” August said, coming to stand beside Rita.

  “There’s a gentleman in the lobby who wishes to speak to you. I believe he’s a reporter,” the man responded.

  August shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know what he’d want to talk to me about, but let’s go. I’ll be right back.”

  Rita felt almost relieved that her father had something else to do. She had really wanted to talk to her mother in private. Closing the door behind her father, Rita went back to the table.

  “I’m glad we’ll have a few minutes alone,” Rita said, as she took the seat vacated by her father.

  “You are?” Beth questioned in surprise.

  Rita nodded. “I wanted to ask you to forgive the way I’ve treated you all these years. I know I was wrong and only acting on hurt and bitter feelings. It was wrong and, despite the fact that you never really wanted me, it wasn’t fair to punish you the way I did.”

  Beth looked as though the wind had been knocked from her. She sat with an expression of complete shock on her face. “What makes you say that I never wanted you?”

  Rita felt the tears well in her eyes. “I overheard you. You told my sister that I was such a difficult child to get close to and figured it was your punishment. I heard you say that you never expected to have another child and, in fact, never wanted another child.”

  Silence hung between the two women as Beth tried to rein in her emotions. “It’s true I never planned to have another child after your brother, Edgar. He was, after all, nine years old when you were born.” Tears streamed down Beth’s face. “I wish I could explain those words. No, I wish I could take them back,” Beth whispered.

  Rita ached at the sight of her mother’s brokenness. In the past, she’d thought on more than one occasion of throwing her mother’s words in her face. Somehow, Rita thought it would offer satisfaction or compensation for the pain her mother had caused. Now, it just offered Rita grief and sorrow.

  Rita started to speak, but Beth waved her off. “Please, let me finish,” she said. “I need to tell you all of it.”

  Rita nodded and sat back, waiting for her mother to speak.

  “I planned to finally spend time with your father,” Beth began. “I hoped to dogsled with him or to at least have more time to just be alone with him. We’d never known a time in our marriage when there weren’t children and, after twenty-some years of marriage, I intended to get to know him better as a man and husband, rather than a father.

  “I found out I was pregnant after thinking that I was going through the change. Mind you, I was happy to be going through the change. My days of having babies were through as far as I was concerned. So, just when I had resigned myself to move into another stage of womanhood, I found that nothing had changed at all. I was pregnant after a nine-year break and it was devastating.”

  Rita tried to hide the hurt she felt, but she couldn’t. Her eyes betrayed her misery, and Beth suddenly realized why all those years had been lost between mother and daughter.

  “The story doesn’t stop there, however,” Beth continued. “I hadn’t realized how much I’d distanced myself from you until one day your oldest sister was remarking on the crescent-shaped birthmark you had on your upper thigh. It was like a slap in the face. You were a year old and I didn’t even realize you had a birthmark. Suddenly, I started to understand that I’d pretty much given you over to your sisters. They saw you as a chore and not a new baby to play with. They fed you, made clothes for you, changed you, and I surrounded myself in the pretense that I was busy with one project or another and that the experience was good for them.

  “Little by little you worked your way into my heart,” Beth said with a sad smile. “I found myself watching you. You were such a good baby. So quiet and content. I never had to listen to you fuss and you were never sick. By the time you were a toddler and then old enough for school, I’d come to love you quite dearly. But the damage, of course, was done. You and I hardly knew each other. For the rest of your life, try as I might, I could never say the right thing or do enough to make it up to you. You never gave me an inch, and I can’t really blame you. I didn’t deserve an inch.” Beth fell silent, trying to determine just how she would say what needed to be said.

  Rita cried openly and remembered the lonely little girl who longed for a mother’s comfort and instead found disinterested siblings at her side.

  “I am so sorry, Rita,” Beth sobbed. “I don’t deserve for you to forgive me, but I love you so much and I can only beg for you to give me the mercy that I didn’t show you
.”

  Rita moved her chair back and stood up. Holding her arms out, she whimpered like a tiny, hurt child, “Momma, I love you!”

  Beth threw herself into the arms of her child. The years of pain were cast aside as if they were old, useless coats in springtime warmth. The two women cried long and hard in each other’s embrace. Fearful of letting go. Not wanting the moment to pass.

  When their tears subsided, Rita was the first to speak.

  “I could never understand what I’d done so wrong that no one loved me or wanted me around. I used to lie in bed and one minute I would think of horrible, awful things that I wanted to happen so that I would have my revenge. And the next minute, I’d push it all aside, knowing that I’d gladly give anything I owned to feel loved by you.”

  “How you must have suffered,” Beth whispered. “I can never take that back. I can never make it up to you.”

  “You don’t have to,” Rita said, feeling the weight of her misery lifted. “I know now that if I forgive you, then I must let go of the past. That little girl is grown now and we have a future together. Dad told me that his only real worry about leaving this world was that you and I would be alone. Now we can be there for each other. We can start all over.”

  Beth took hold of her daughter’s hands. “I’d like that, Rita. I’d like a chance to put the ugliness aside and start fresh.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Rita said and embraced her mother again.

  Neither of the women heard August when he returned. When they pulled away laughing, he was there by the door with tears in his eyes.

  “Daddy!” Rita exclaimed and held her arms open to him.

  August crossed the room, hugging both Beth and Rita to him. “Dare I hope that this means you two have put aside the past?”

  “Better than that,” Beth replied. “We finally understand the past between us and we’re going to forgive it and forget it. Aren’t we, Rita?” She looked into her daughter’s dark eyes. Eyes so much like her father’s that Beth never failed to see August when she saw Rita.