Love Finds You in Glacier Bay, Alaska

by Tricia Goyer

  Chapter Fifteen

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  Ginny strode into the Fireweed, her high-heeled boots clicking on the wooden floor, and her heartbeat nearly doubled as she noticed the professional espresso machine.

  “Real coffee, yes!” She didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until she heard laughter from behind the counter. A young woman rose and smiled, tucking her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. She had short-cropped dark hair. She looked like a young Winona Ryder, only cuter.

  “What would you like, ma’am?” The question didn’t come from the woman. It came instead from a younger voice. As Ginny stepped forward, she noticed a boy who appeared to be about five peeking over the counter.

  “Hey there.” She peered down at him. “Are you going to help me today?”

  He nodded, displaying a gap-toothed grin. “Yes, ma’am. I’m helping, aren’t I, Mama?”

  “Yes, Jace. You’re the best helper.”

  Ginny glanced to the young woman and immediately noticed the resemblance. They had the same wide green eyes and smattering of freckles across their noses.

  “Well, sir.” Ginny tapped her chin with her fingernail. “How about a tall, skinny white chocolate mocha.”

  “Skinny?” He glanced at his mom.

  She chuckled. “That means nonfat milk. It’s in the blue carton. Can you get it for me?”

  “Okay!” He hurried to the fridge. “Can I do the whipped cweam, too?”

  The woman glanced over at Ginny as she measured coffee into the coffee press. “Do you want whip?”

  “Of course. How can I say no?” Not so skinny, but oh well.

  He pulled the carton from the fridge and brought it to his mom.

  Ginny smiled. “You have some good help there.”

  “Yes, Jace can run this place as well as I can. I bought this shop when he was a baby. I used to set up a high chair right over there.” The woman pointed to the corner by the counter. “And Jace’s first word was ‘coffee’!”

  Ginny laughed.

  “I’m Kelly, by the way.”

  Ginny waved a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ginny.”

  The woman nodded. “Yeah, I like your songs.”

  Ginny cocked an eyebrow. On one hand, it was a compliment that someone all the way up in these parts would appreciate her music. On the other, she’d enjoyed being just Ginny.

  Kelly instructed Jace on how much white chocolate syrup to put in the cup, and Ginny eyed the sketches, wildlife photos, and paintings that hung on the walls of the adjoining gallery. One of her favorites was a photo of an old truck parked in a field of wildflowers. The photographer had made the print look antique yet colorful, as if it was an image from a dream.

  “Wow, you have some cool things in here. Are you an artist?” she called back to Kelly.

  “Yes, but these aren’t all my pieces. Just those two, uh, sketches over there.”

  Ginny stepped forward and glanced at the two pencil drawings. One was of a sea lion bathing on the rock. The detail was intricate, amazing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a black-and-white photograph.”

  “Thanks. I—” Kelly continued, but her voice was drowned out by the noise of the frothing machine.

  The other drawing depicted a father and son sitting on a dock with fishing poles in hand. The boy was a toddler, but it was obviously Jace. And the man…was that Jace’s father?

  She looked closer and then caught her breath as she recognized the strong jaw, the broad shoulders, the smile. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and she shifted her weight from side to side.

  Hurried footsteps approached as the young boy ran to her side. “That’s me and Bwett. We caught a big salmon that day, didn’t we, Mama?”

  Kelly approached, handing Ginny her coffee. “Yes, you sure did.”

  As Ginny took the paper cup, her fingers trembled. She nodded but didn’t respond.

  It’s been two years. Plenty of time for Brett to connect with this beautiful woman and her son.

  She wanted to cry. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t do either. Her feet felt like they were glued to the floorboards.

  Instead she eyed the sketch. Where would she be—they be—if things had worked out between her and Brett? Would they have children together—a son?

  “Those are like two peas in a pod. I swear Brett is Jace’s favorite person.”

  “It seems like he’s everyone’s favorite person around here,” Ginny mumbled under her breath.

  “How can he not be? He’s done more for this community than anyone I know. Done more for me.” Kelly brushed her long bangs back from her eyes, and Ginny noticed their sparkle. Did Kelly have feelings for Brett? Had he returned them in any way?

  Ginny took a sip of coffee and forced a smile. “Brett’s that type of guy. Always thinking of others and caring with his whole heart.” She glanced over at another framed photograph hanging on the wall of a kayak skimming over the water with a glacier looming in the background.

  “Was that photo taken around here?” Ginny asked.

  Kelly nodded but didn’t elaborate. Jace’s eyes were still fixed on the drawing of him and Brett.

  “We love Bwett, don’t we, Mama?” Jace pointed to the drawing and then rushed back behind the counter to retrieve his toy car that he’d left sitting next to the milk.

  “Of course we do.” Kelly cocked an eyebrow and then moved back behind the counter. Ginny followed, paying for the coffee and tucking a couple extra dollars into the tip jar. She was trying to think of what to say—how to say it—when the door opened and a tall man stepped through.

  “Hey, Hank. Your usual?”

  Hank was thin with reddish hair and a big smile. He wore some type of uniform, and Ginny guessed he worked for the park service. She’d almost forgotten Glacier Bay National Park was right here. She thought of the lodge—her reservations. The beautiful park was nine miles down the road. Would she ever get there?

  “Of course the usual. Why change now?” His smile was broad, but it faded when he noticed Ginny standing there.

  Ginny stepped forward. “Just admiring Kelly’s artwork,” she said, as if needing to explain.

  “She’s a fine artist. I’m surprised she can keep any artwork in the place. The tourists gobble it up. Speaking of which…” He cocked an eyebrow.

  Ginny extended her hand. “I’m—”

  “That’s Ginny. She’s visiting these parts for a few days, isn’t that right?” Kelly pulled two tea bags from a glass jar on the counter.

  “Oh, so you’re the one with Bud’s van?”

  She took another sip of coffee and then nodded. “Yes, and speaking of which, I should get going. I have a few more errands to run.”

  “Come back again!” Kelly called after her. “It was great meeting you.”

  “Bye-bye,” Jace echoed, returning the milk carton to the fridge.

  Ginny strode out into the cool air, feeling a faint tightness in her stomach. Kelly seemed nice, but there was something in those green eyes she wasn’t saying.

  Ginny sighed and hurried toward the old blue van. A cold, brisk wind blew in off the bay, and storm clouds gathered in the horizon. Would Brett stay out there in this type of weather?

  Maybe it was easier this way—him being gone. Maybe she wouldn’t see him after all, especially if Grandma continued to improve.

  Ginny took another sip of her coffee. It blew Starbucks out of the water.

  It figured the prettiest, sweetest woman in Gustavus could also make a perfect latte.

  She pulled the van keys from her pocket and unlocked the door, noting that she needn’t worry about locking up next time. Like Bud said, most people left their cars unlocked with the key inside. Even if the van did get stolen, it wasn’t as if the thief had any place to hide. Glacier Bay wasn’t big enough for that. And the only way it could get someplace else was by ferry. More than that, everyone knew Bud’s van. It was hard to remain incognito.

  Sh
e thought about heading on to the mercantile as she had planned, but the heaviness of meeting Kelly weighed her down. She could shop tomorrow. Besides, she didn’t want to leave Brett’s grandmother for too long.

  She’d only made it three steps into Grandma Ethel’s living room when the old woman’s voice caused her to jump.

  “You didn’t catch the death of cold, did you?” Grandma Ethel asked.

  Ginny rubbed her hands together. “I am a bit chilled.”

  “I thought so. Your face is pale. I should have insisted you stay in.”

  Grandma Ethel reached out her hands. The woman still appeared weak. Ginny approached and returned the gesture. Grandma gripped her arms affectionately. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Yes, of course.” Ginny sat down beside her.

  “Can you make me a cup of tea?”

  “Tea? I’d love to.” Ginny rose and moved to the kitchen. “Did you have a chance to rest?”

  “Rest? It’s all I seem to do.” She placed a hand on her chest. “It’s not easy getting old.” Grandma Ethel let out a long sigh.

  It took only a few minutes for Ginny to prepare the tea and bring it to Grandma.

  “Can you place it on the end table please?”

  “Of course.” Ginny did as she was asked.

  Grandma Ethel patted the sofa beside her and Ginny sat.

  “Get a chance to look around some?” Grandma dotted the corner of her watery eyes with her Kleenex.

  “Just the coffee shop. Met Kelly and Jace. Nice family.”

  Grandma nodded, but Ginny could tell the older woman’s mind was on something else.

  Grandma cleared her throat. “I appreciate you changing your plans. Staying. I know you didn’t come all this way for me.”

  “No, but you’re an unexpected gift. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I wish you were feeling better.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve learned at my age you can’t take anything for granted. This morning was more serious than I wish it would have been, but I’m glad it wasn’t worse…which leads me to what I really want to say.”

  Ginny nodded, waiting. “Okay.”

  “Virginia, I’ve had a good life—an awfully good life. God has given me more than I deserve, namely His Son, and if something happens… well, just know that I’m prepared. I have no fear of meeting my Maker. In fact, I’ve been looking forward to that for many years.”

  Ginny gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “Grandma Ethel, don’t say that. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  Grandma cocked her head and narrowed her gaze. “Really, darling girl, are you sure of that? Do you know the future?”

  “Well, no. But I don’t like that thought.” Ginny’s chin trembled, and she hoped she wouldn’t break down. Not here. Not now.

  “It’s a fact of life, sweet one. It’s the one thing guaranteed for each of us. A certainty of certainties, yet we humans walk around life as if we’ll live forever.” She reached over and took Ginny’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s a disclaimer that I’ve already given to all my friends who live here in Glacier Bay. In fact, it’s one thing all of us older folks around here understand. There’s not the medical care here available to most in the lower states, and I understand that. I also want you to know that nothing you do or don’t do will change the fact that my Lord knew the moment of my first breath and the moment of my last one before the creation of the universe. Imagine that.”

  Ginny nodded again, feeling a chill travel down her arms. She considered making her own cup of tea but felt too weary to move. This talk of death in such a light manner—well, it just wasn’t normal. She hoped that Grandma Ethel wasn’t feeling worse than she was letting on, that this wasn’t her way of preparing Ginny. A shiver ran down her spine.

  Midnight sauntered into the room, watching the storm building outside the window and letting out a long meow. Ginny followed the cat’s gaze, amazed by how quickly the storm came up. Brett was out there somewhere. Did he have a tent? Was there a cabin?

  She hadn’t asked him too many questions, and she tried to remember what he told her years ago when he explained the coves, the mountains, the glaciers he explored. She was pretty sure he packed light and went into places most people didn’t dare venture, which worried her. Especially with Grandma Ethel’s casual talk of death.

  “There’s another thing too.” Grandma interrupted Ginny’s thoughts. “If something happens—anything happens—and you don’t get to finish the letters while you’re here, I want you to take them with you. I want you to read them all…do you understand?”

  “What? No. I can’t. They’re a treasure. I wouldn’t dare think of hauling something so priceless away.”

  Grandma pointed a shriveled finger her direction. “No arguing, you hear?” She frowned as she glanced back at the mountain storm. Was she worried about Brett too?

  Then she turned and focused again on Ginny’s eyes. “We meet people, live with folks, build friendships our whole lives, and there are those few tenderhearted souls who stand out. These letters highlight such people, but it’s more than that.” Grandma Ethel yawned and settled deeper back into the couch. “As we go through life, it’s hard to see the big picture. Things happen that seem random. We question why God allows hard things to happen to good people. And while those letters aren’t always easy to read, they give a glimpse of a bigger picture.” Grandma Ethel offered a soft smile. “It’s not often you get to see how one life can impact many, but it’s something I have a feeling God wants you to know. Promise me.”

  “Yes, of course. I’d be honored.”

  “Good.” Grandma Ethel rose. “Even though it seems I just woke up, it’s my nap time again.” She patted the box on the coffee table. “And you have some reading to do.”

  “But your tea…” Ginny pointed to the steaming cup on the end table.

  “Oh, that’s for you, dear.” Grandma Ethel smiled. “I always like something warm to sip while I read. Don’t you?”

  Chapter Sixteen

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  September 7, 1928

  Dear Brother Peter,

  I expect this story may interest you. Tuesday last, I ventured in my small fishing rig to Juneau for supplies. Early afternoon, Joseph, Linc, and I were loading up for the trip back. It was one of those clear Juneau days that can turn on a person. The waterfowl acted nervous, darting around. They know when a storm’s coming. So we hastened to beat it.

  We were ready to set off when a young lady clomped across the dock toward our vessel, tugging a huge blue trunk behind her. A sewing machine—electric—was roped to the top of the trunk. Of all things.

  The dock swayed some, and the way the young woman rocked, I thought she’d fall right in. Now the water underneath the dock sinks down to a darkness that looks as if it could swallow a person up. I sent Linc to help her, and she clung to his shoulder. Near drew blood. You should’ve seen the fright in her eyes.

  Well, she made it, but as she came to our vessel, her feet slipped out from under her (those fancy boots didn’t help). She fell right down on her backside. A sad sight. Felt sorry for her, but I admit the three of us choked back chuckles. This fancy lady tossed down on her backside, fluttering and fussing. Not the nicest behavior on our part.

  I helped her up, asked her what she was wanting.

  Still tottering, she gripped my arm and brushed herself off with the other. Didn’t want to fall again, I’m guessing. Then she smiled and even laughed a bit.

  “I’ve always been clumsy.”

  At first she seemed a decent young woman, but then she asked the most irrational question.

  “I need a ride to Strawberry Point. Will you take me? I can pay.”

  This woman was in no way prepared to go to Strawberry Point. I said no and bid her good day.

  Did she turn and go? No. Instead, she asked me to refer another ride.

  Well, if she wanted to be unreasonable… I pointed toward a canoe. A Tlingit family was almost read
y to push off. “That should serve well enough. Good people. Don’t know if that trunk of yours will fit.”

  Her eyes shrank to the size of pebbles. Seemed to feel a mite irksome.

  “Fine, sir. If I must, I’ll go with them.” With a royal spin, she stomped toward them, tugging her trunk behind her. The boys and I waited and watched.

  A few minutes later, she marched back. “They don’t speak English, as I’m sure you know. Would you please ask them for me?” Her tone showed no politeness.

  “Look, miss. I don’t know why you want to take a little visit to Strawberry Point, but you can find a bargeful of other fine places to tour. Have you seen Juneau? The Mendenhall Glacier? It’s like a piece of heaven come down—if you watch out for bears. So, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop taking our time. A storm’s coming, and we aim to beat it.” I nodded with as much kindness as I could muster. “Boys, time to head out.”

  As I turned my back, her girlish hand gripped my shoulder. I didn’t know how she reached it, me being at least a foot above her. When I faced her again, I saw she was standing on her trunk. Oh good heavens, I never saw a proper lady so fired up.

  “Listen to me, Mr. Whoever-you-are!” She stabbed my chest with her finger. “I must go to Strawberry Point today. I’ve left everything I own, all the people I love, and my whole life to live there. Not just to ‘take a little visit.’ To stay.”

  The whites in her eyes reddened, which shook me a bit, and then the tears came. Womenfolk cry when they’re angry sometimes. Adelaide did that. It only made her more angry too.

  “You have to take me. You must. If you have a shred of decency…”

  Just then, I’m sorry to say, a wave rocked the dock hard. Her trunk slid from under her feet and she fell into me. Worse, that big old chest scooted right across the dock, straight to the edge. It tipped a moment, like it might stop. She shrieked, pushed away from me, and tried to grasp it. But another wave shook the dock and that trunk slid into the Alaskan depths. The sewing machine too.

  She leaned over the edge, grasping for it. Finally I hauled her back up. My anger turned to pity. Her shoulders quivered.