Love Finds You in Glacier Bay, Alaska

by Tricia Goyer

  She turned her eyes back to the older woman. “The Homeshore… did you want us to go pick up some pizza?”

  Grandma Ethel offered a patient smile. “Weren’t you listening, dear? Can you call and see if they are still open? They close early at times—for family birthdays and other special occasions. It’s always better to check.”

  “Yes, of course.” Ginny put down the letter and hurried to the phone. She quickly dialed the number she found on Grandma’s list above the phone.

  “Homeshore Café,” a young woman’s friendly voice answered.

  “Yes, I’d like to order a large pizza.”

  “And this is…”

  “Ginny.”

  “Do I know you, Ginny?”

  “I’m staying with Grandma Ethel.”

  “Oh yes! Did Brett make it back?” the young woman’s voice bubbled.

  Ginny shook her head. This place still managed to surprise her. “Yes, he did. Got in this afternoon. He’s taking a shower now…you know how it is, getting cleaned up.”

  “Sure do. So do they want their favorite pie?”

  “Of course.” She found herself smiling. “What else?”

  The woman gave the total, and Ginny chuckled as she hung up, realizing she had no idea what Brett and Grandma Ethel’s favorite pizza was.

  Like Ellie, she’d been plunged into deep waters too. She was drowning—in friendliness, in community—and she was starting to think she didn’t want to get pulled out.

  But Ellie, poor Ellie. She hurried back to the letter.

  Having no hat, my head was drenched by the time we reached the cabin. You know my hair, Grandfather. When it’s wet, it curls up into tiny kinks. How I must’ve looked!

  As soon as we stepped inside, the three children rushed to their father. A big smile filled his face as he knelt down to receive them into his arms. Then Janey spotted me. She’s nine and has become my best friend here. Her beautiful eyes brightened as she drew close to me. With a big grin, she whispered, “You’re not Miss Ellie McKinley, are you?”

  When I said yes, she grasped my hand and whispered into my ear, “I’ve been praying you’d come soon. I’m the one who wrote the missions board. I copied his handwriting.”

  Oh, Grandfather, my heart sank to my frozen toes. She wrote the missions board? Not Reverend Parrish? No wonder he was surprised when he found out who I was. Before I could respond to Janey, four-year-old Zach marched up. His blond hair sagged across his forehead as he peeked up at me. “Who are you?”

  I knelt down and told him my name.

  “I’m Zach!” He scooted over and hugged his father’s leg, then shot me with a wooden popgun. I pretended to be wounded, to which he smiled shyly and repeated his attacks.

  When I straightened, I laid eyes on the sweetest little girl in the world. Baby Penny. The reverend had picked her up, and she rested her head on his shoulder. One of her tight blond curls stuck to her face. I fingered it free, and she smiled, then sucked her thumb.

  I was so tired, and cold, and wet. My heart overflowed with melancholy. I missed you and our life, the comforts of San Francisco, our home. But, Grandfather, I wasn’t hopeless. Meeting the children, seeing their loving home, made me think I could be a blessing here.

  But then the reverend pulled me aside. “No offense, miss, but we’ve got no need for a governess here. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way. We’ll keep you here till the next boat, but then you’ll have to go.”

  “Reverend, please reconsider. Perhaps I could help your children…”

  But as soon as I said that, he crossed his arms and frowned. He made it very clear I’m not to help them in any way. He’s their father, and he will be the one to help them. And Grandfather, if I can’t serve here, I may as well go home. The reverend’s right about that.

  I’ll be seeing you sooner than we thought.

  All my love,

  Ellie Bell

  Chapter Nineteen

  .......................

  Brett emerged from the bathroom sporting a pair of jeans, a wrinkled T-shirt, and damp, rumpled hair. He’d shaved, and his cheeks were pink. His smile was soft, inviting. His eyes locked with Ginny’s from the moment he exited the bathroom door.

  Her stomach did a flip. She offered a whistle. “Rodeo Drive would double their profits if they had models like you strolling the street.”

  She meant it as a joke, but the smile slipped from his lips. “I’m not going to LA.”

  “I didn’t mean—” She put Ellie’s letter back in the box. “It was just a compliment, that’s all.”

  He nodded, but she wasn’t sure he believed her. Was that what he thought, that she’d come all this way to lure him back to California?

  “Listen, I really just came as someone needing a friend. I’m sorry I showed up unannounced. You know how impulsive I can be at times.”

  He nodded but didn’t answer.

  “I had Ginny order a pizza. It should be ready soon,” Grandma called from the kitchen. “After we eat I’ll head to bed so you two can talk.”

  Sweet Grandma. Did all grandmas think that every problem in the world could be solved with carbs and conversation?

  Ginny moved to her pink suitcase next to the couch and pulled out her jacket.

  “You’re coming with me to pick up the pizza?” Brett’s eyes widened.

  She slid on the tweed blazer and then planted a hand on her hip. “Of course. I have to discover one of Gustavus’s fine dining establishments.”

  He chuckled. “You mean Gustavus’s only dining establishment, unless you count the Inn—but if you want to have dinner there, you need to call ahead of time so Judy can make enough.”

  Ginny’s stomach filled with bubbles just hearing him talk. “Well, I definitely don’t want to miss the only dining establishment then.”

  It took only three minutes to get to the Homeshore Café, which was housed in the same building as the Fireweed. The place was packed. Every table had a cluster of people around it, and they all looked up when Brett and Ginny entered. Many of them waved. At the table closest to the door, a very pregnant woman nibbled on the last piece of crust.

  Ginny placed a hand on Brett’s arm and leaned close to his ear. “That must be Gina,” she said.

  His head whipped around. “How did you know?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good to laugh, cleansing. Ginny shrugged. “In a place like this, everybody knows everybody, right?”

  Their pizza was waiting, but instead of picking up the box, Brett took her hand and led her around the room, introducing her. There were Lee and Linda Parker, Lori the librarian with her family, Gina, Susan, and Stephanie, who were enjoying a dinner away from their husbands and kids. They all welcomed Ginny to Gustavus, told her they hoped tomorrow would be better weather, and asked how Grandma Ethel was feeling.

  “She’s better. Perky, ever since Brett’s been home.”

  Ginny chatted with Linda Parker as if she’d known her all her life. If anyone knew she was a recording artist, they didn’t seem to care. Instead, Stephanie asked Ginny what size curling iron barrel she used to create soft waves, and Lee warned Brett about a bear he saw outside his back door.

  “The salmon are spawning and the bears are enjoying the sushi.” Lee chuckled. “Watch yourself on walks though.” Lee looked at Ginny as he spoke. “They always seem to find the fresh meat.”

  “Lee, leave the girl alone.” Linda playfully slugged his shoulder.

  “They all wanted to ask why you’re here and how long you’re going to stay,” Brett commented as they got back in the truck.

  “I’m not sure.” She shut her door. “I haven’t decided.”

  And from the look in Brett’s eyes that shone in the fading sunlight, it was clear he realized the one statement answered both questions.

  When they got back home, Brett set the pizza on the table, and Ginny made a decision. She wasn’t going to think about the past or about leaving. She wasn’t going to worry
about LA, the Grammys, or her boyfriend—if she could call Danny that. She’d just sit down and enjoy her pizza with an old friend.

  As the pizza warmed in the oven, Brett went into Grandma’s room to fix a leaky faucet, and Ginny eased onto the couch. She figured she’d have just enough time for one letter.

  September 23, 1928

  Dear Grandfather,

  I’ve been here for two weeks now. The weather’s getting worse, so there may not be a boat till spring. Otherwise, I’d already be gone. The reverend hasn’t backed down from his determination to send me home.

  Nevertheless, I’m doing my best for these children. I cannot just ignore them. They’re joyful, obedient dears, but each one hides a sadness, a hole nothing but their mother can fill. I know that feeling. I still have it. I can’t take the pain away, but perhaps I can ease it some. Bringing a loving touch to these lonely ones gives me some purpose.

  It’s not easy. That man hinders me at every turn. He won’t accept my help, even in the smallest things. I try to make dinner and he says, “Let Janey do that.” She’s nine! I try to chop wood, and he says, “Let Joseph do that.” I’ve made mistakes, but if he’d give me a chance, I could learn. His words are so cold. His disdain pains me, makes me feel even more alone than I already do. If he could just be a friend to me.

  I confess I wanted to go home. Despite the sweet children, I could not imagine having to endure such an insufferable human being for another day. Before I knew the boats weren’t running, I agreed to take the first ride back to Juneau.

  But then, beautiful little Janey changed my mind. Her white hands curled beneath mine as she climbed onto my cot one evening while I was reading. She has the same big brown eyes as her father. Her bobbed brown hair flopped in her eyes, and she blew it away. Without a word she handed me three ripped pages from the reverend’s journal. I know I shouldn’t have read them, but I did.

  And I want to stay.

  Ellie

  “Pizza!” Grandma called. Ginny put away the letter and joined Grandma and Brett at the table. Ellie wanted to stay with Clay. Did she see something under that tough exterior? As she looked across the table at Brett, she could understand.

  “Now, tomorrow I don’t want you two to stay around here all day.” Grandma Ethel used a fork and a knife to cut her barbecued chicken pizza into small pieces. She pushed it around on her plate, and Ginny tried to pretend she didn’t notice that Grandma had only taken a few bites.

  “If you want something fun to do, there’s a golf course right over yonder.” Grandma tipped up her head in pride. “I have some clubs you can borrow…if I can find them. I believe they’re in one of the storage sheds out back.”

  Ginny forced a smile. “Or I could rent some.” She took another big bite of pizza. It was as good as any she could get in LA. Better even.

  “There’s no place to rent clubs. It’s actually just a nice turf that Morgan keeps tended. There’s a coffee can where you leave your fee.”

  Ginny paused with the pizza halfway to her mouth. “But what if someone takes the money?”

  “Why would they want to do that?” Grandma Ethel clucked her tongue.

  Grandma went on to tell her how Morgan created the golf course out of a field. After a few minutes, it was clear the older woman was getting tired.

  “Grandma, would you like me to help you get ready for bed?” Ginny asked.

  She offered a slight nod. “Would you? I’m afraid I’m sorer from my fall than I thought.”

  Ginny tucked her arm under Grandma Ethel’s and helped her to stand. Then she turned back to Brett. “I’ll be right back.”

  His eyes were on her, and his lips were parted slightly. He didn’t say anything but he nodded. She could see appreciation in his gaze.

  Ginny helped Grandma dress in her pajamas, noticing a large bruise on her side. “Are you sure you’re all right? That looks like it hurts.”

  Grandma Ethel waved a hand in the air. “I’ve had worse; just smarts a little. I need a good night’s sleep, that’s all.”

  Ginny nodded and then tucked her in. As she prepared to turn out the lamp on Grandma’s nightstand, she noticed tears in Grandma Ethel’s eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Ginny leaned in closer.

  “You remind me of someone, that’s all.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. Ginny followed Grandma Ethel’s gaze to the side table. On it sat a black-and-white photo of a woman with sweet features and a contented smile on her face. She pointed. “Her?”

  Grandma Ethel shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ll tell you more later…”

  “Later?”

  “After you finish the letters.”

  “Then you assume I’m going to stick around until I do?”

  “I won’t assume nothing, dear.” Grandma Ethel yawned, and Midnight jumped up onto the bed, curling up next to Grandma Ethel’s feet. “But I can tell from the look in your eye that you want to. After all, the letters and my grandson are sitting in that living room out there. So why don’t you let this old women get some sleep while you dive into the past…and maybe talk about the future?”

  * * * * *

  Brett sat on the floral sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His fingers were knotted through his hair, and Ginny figured he was deep in thought. It was only as she sat in the chair next to him that she realized he was praying.

  Her cheeks warmed; she felt as though she was intruding. Prayer was such an intimate thing, and for the first time in a long time Ginny wondered why she didn’t pray more often.

  After a minute he lifted his head. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

  “Thanks.” She curled up her legs and tucked them under her. “I’m glad I didn’t leave. I would have regretted it if we never had that chance to talk.”

  “So what is it, Ginny? Why have you come?”

  It was the open door she needed, and for the next ten minutes she told him about the recording contract, the concert tours, the cameras that followed her everywhere she went, and even the invitation to the Grammys. The only thing she didn’t tell him about was Danny.

  Brett nodded as he listened, but he had a strange look in his eye, as if he were expecting something else.

  Finally she paused. “You know what? I’m being completely selfish. You’re tired. I would be if I slept on the ground last night. I should probably let you go. You don’t need to listen to this now.” She looked out the window. “Maybe we can go golfing tomorrow. Or you can show me around this place. I’m sure there’s much to see in Gustavus beyond your grandmother’s living room.”

  “I’m not tired. I’m okay. It’s just…” He let his voice trail off.

  “What?”

  “I thought you’d maybe start with an apology first.”

  “Apology?” Her brow furrowed. “I’m the one who came up here and found you.”

  “You’re the one who left.” He leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s been two years, Ginny.”

  “It’s been two years because you didn’t come after me.”

  “Come after you?” He stood and strode toward the wood fire. “You left, Ginny. Did I need to follow so you could turn your back on me again? I’m sorry if once wasn’t good enough for you.”

  She cocked her head and stared, unsure of what to say. What to do. What a fool she was to think Brett wouldn’t bring that up. Wouldn’t be hurt. She expected a happy reaction from him—like the one she saw earlier.

  Brett paced the room, going back and forth between the woodstove and the front door. Then he paused, turned to her, and shook his head. When he focused on her, hurt radiated from his gaze. It was like a knife to the gut. He wasn’t only mad that she’d left, he was wounded. And here she was explaining all her success—success she achieved only by walking away from him. What a fool.

  Ginny stood and moved toward him, stretching out a hand. “Brett—”

  He held up a palm, blocking her advance. “Listen, G
inny. I’m glad you’re here, and I want to talk to you. I really do. But…well, the truth is, I’ve been praying for you, thinking about you a lot lately, and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around you being here. If it’s all right, I’d like to talk tomorrow. There’s too much going on in my mind tonight.” He placed a hand over his heart. “It takes my breath away just being in the same room with you—and I mean that in a good way. But I need to think. Pray.”

  Part of her ached. He’d been thinking about her? Praying for her? Could that be the reason she was here?

  “Yes, of course.” Ginny stepped forward, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’m looking forward to seeing you then.” She smiled, feeling her chin quiver. It had been easy to forget how much she’d hurt him when she was so far away. But here, looking into his eyes… She struggled to suck in a breath.

  Without another word, he turned and strode out the door. He didn’t say when he’d be back. He didn’t tell her to look after Grandma. Thirty seconds later, his truck backed out, leaving Bud’s van looking lonely in the driveway.

  Ginny locked the door, but was that even necessary? Then she turned and pressed her back against it.

  So much for not thinking of the past. So much for trying to get advice. She’d gotten a peek into Brett’s heart, and it was obvious she’d left some holes by leaving. Ginny rubbed the back of her neck as it hit her—really hit her as it never had before.

  She’d been sad her whole life.

  Ginny barely remembered her mother, and she wished she could forget some of the foster homes she’d lived in. What did I do to deserve Mother’s leaving?

  “Opened the front door and dropped Ginny off without looking back,” she’d heard one of her foster mothers whisper to a friend.

  How could it be that the pain of abandonment she’d carried all these years hadn’t stopped her from doing the same to Brett?