by Tricia Goyer
“Your grandma didn’t have to talk me into reading the letters.” Ginny interrupted his thoughts. “Once I got started I couldn’t stop. Ellie’s life was fascinating. I can’t imagine moving to Alaska like that. It’s quite the wilderness.” She glanced at the vast mountains and icebergs around her.
Brett’s smile faded.
“I mean back then….” she quickly added. But it was too late.
“Yeah, it’s never been easy living here.” He steered the boat farther away from the shore, and while his mind was focused on that task, his heart did the only thing it could. Put up another brick of protection. The last thing he wanted was to be hurt again.
That strand of hair blew free again, and he couldn’t help but reach out and tuck it behind her ear one more time, stroking her cheek with his finger.
Ginny gazed at him, cocking her eyebrow, curious.
Brett cleared his throat. “I want to hear about why you came in the first place. I mean after just getting that diamond necklace, what made you head up to these parts?”
Her head jerked back. “How do you know about that?”
“How could I not? We get the tabloids up here—or at least in Juneau—and People.com. As you may recall, if one person in Gustavus knows a bit of news, so does the whole town. They pretend they don’t know who you are, but they all know about you, Ginny. About us.” He held his breath and waited for her response. He longed for her to deny everything about the growing relationship between her and Danny Kingston—to say that the gossip columns had gotten it all wrong.
Instead, she lowered her head and let her eyelids droop.
“I did accept the necklace, but I don’t want to keep it. In the world’s eyes, a girl would be stupid to walk away from Danny Kingston, but I’ve been called worse.” She glanced up at him. “I don’t want to keep the necklace, because my heart keeps drawing me back to someone else….”
Brett’s blood rushed. His heart pounded, and he felt as if liquid sunshine had been poured into his chest. Stop it. Stop it…it’s too late now to get your hopes up.
She had chosen her way, and he had chosen his. There could be only one captain on each boat, and as far as he was concerned, Ginny still continued to steer in the opposite direction.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
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Ginny was about to explain about Danny, but instead something ahead caught her eye. It—they—moved through the water beside the boat, gliding over the surface and then dipping back under again.
“What are those? Wow!”
“They’re harbor porpoises. We have quite a few. Their favorite things are sending us out and then welcoming us back in.”
“Porpoises, whales, moose, bears…is there ever a time when it simply becomes ordinary?”
“Not at all. Never. Not for me, anyway.”
Ginny noticed that Brett steered their boat more to the left to create distance between them and their new friends. He looked handsome at the helm with the wind tousling his hair.
“Living here sort of reminds me of Africa.” His voice carried over the wind. “All the times I’ve been, there isn’t a day—an hour—that passes when I don’t want to pinch myself. It seems the best type of life is one lived a bit untamed. And the best way to do that is with the creatures that man never can quite control.”
Ginny turned her gaze back to the water, disappointed that the porpoises had turned around. She gave a sad smile, realizing they were most likely off to lead the next voyagers out to sea.
She considered asking Brett about his return to Africa, but she changed her mind. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. Her attention turned to a large rock island ahead covered with sea lions. She sat straighter.
“This is amazing!” she called to Brett, but when she looked back at him, he was looking at her and not the animals.
As they continued on, the strangest thought hit her. Even as the raucous sea lions lifted their heads and barked—at the waves, the sky, and at them perhaps—there were people in morning rush hour traffic, breathing smog, with a sea of cars as their only view. Folks were listening to morning talk radio, their worried thoughts focused on their next meeting. Their next in-studio. Or their neighbor who kept them up half the night by shouting at his wife about racking up the credit card bill once again.
There were paparazzi racing around the city, checking out Rodeo Drive and the favorite parks that stars visited with their designer kids. For so long the media attention, and the mental list of her rising success that she’d check off in her mind, had seemed so important. But here? To see water as far as she could see, mountains rising from its grasp, and ice that appeared to be sculpted by a majestic hand—well, it made those things of last week, last month, last year seem like poorly written sitcoms put to life.
But even the feeling of gliding over the water and seeing the sea lions, the porpoises, and the various birds paled in comparison to the glacier.
Ginny had never felt anything like it. The fishing boat approached the base of the glacier, and she had never felt so small. Or so captured, as if the land, ocean, and ice had caged her in. The thing was, she never wanted to be released.
She thought of Ellie and Clay. Was this the glacier Ellie had written about? She understood the cresting of Ellie’s emotions even more now.
She reached up and placed her hand on Brett’s. “Thank you. This is amazing. I wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else—anyone but you.”
His face softened, and she noticed a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen since she’d arrived.
“You’re welcome, Ginny. Thank you for coming—for finding me.”
He slowed the boat and then turned off the engine so they were only trolling. The water was still, and there were only a few large cruise ships in the distance.
She stared up at the chunks of ice in awe. “The colors are so amazing. I never knew that ice could be that blue.”
“If I was braver, I would have brought the kayaks,” he commented.
She turned to him and smiled. “You mean you don’t want to have to dive into this water to save me?”
“Actually, I think I’d be too distracted by you to get anywhere. See that puffin out there swimming in circles?” He pointed. “That would be me.”
Ginny’s chest grew warm at his words, but then she thought about Kelly in the coffee shop. The tension built until she couldn’t hold back the question anymore.
“What about Kelly?” she dared to ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Kelly, Jace’s mom, from Fireweed Coffee House.”
“I know who you’re talking about, but what are you talking about?”
“Kelly. You know. What would she think of you talking to me all sweet like that?”
“Why would she care?”
“Um, aren’t you and she, you know, fancy on each other?”
“Who told you that?”
“No one had to tell me. I could tell by the way Kelly talked about you. And whenever you mentioned her…there’s something special there. I could hear it in your voice.”
“No one’s told you yet?”
“Told me what?”
“Ginny, instead of a songwriter, you should become a novelist for all the fiction you come up with.”
“You mean there’s nothing going on between you and Kelly?”
“Smelly Kelly?” Brett laughed.
A gasp released from Ginny’s lips.
“Yeah, there was something between us. In fifth grade. We ‘dated’ nearly the whole year. Everyone in class called her Smelly Kelly because her mom made candles. Every day she came to class smelling like a different fragrance. We’d always guess which one.”
“But…she and Jace said they loved you.”
“And I love them. But it’s a friendship love. In fact, no one knows it yet, but she met someone on eHarmony. He’s been up to Glacier Bay a couple of times. A few people who know Kelly best have met him…but for the most part
she hasn’t introduced him around to folks yet. Once you do that—let people know who you’re keen on—it’s over.”
“Over? What’s over?”
“Your privacy. Your right to your own opinion. Glacier Bay is a small place.”
Laughter slipped from Ginny’s lips, and she let herself relax. Worries lifted from her mind like the light fluffy clouds overhead.
She didn’t have to worry about Kelly. And she didn’t need to think about Danny and the studio. Not now. Not today. She blew out a soft breath and felt her heart beating in rhythm with the undercurrents.
When she was sure she’d never heard such quiet—felt such peace in all her life—Brett stood and moved to the front bench seat of the boat. He opened the seat and pulled out a picnic lunch.
Ah, perfect.
Then he reached inside again and pulled out a wooden box. Ginny’s brow furrowed, recognizing it immediately. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“Is that your…chess set? Didn’t you have enough beating me at crib-bage last night?”
Laughter slipped from Brett’s lips, and Ginny shook her head from side to side, her ponytail swishing as she did. Only Brett would think of bringing his chess set here, now.
He set it on the wooden floorboards of the fishing vessel and motioned for her to sit.
“I thought we’d finish our game.”
“Our game?”
“Don’t you remember? It was still set up. I was this close to beating you.” He held up two fingers so they nearly touched.
Ginny’s smile faded. She was glad he could joke about that. She didn’t think it was as funny. She laid down the blanket and then sat on it.
He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it up for her to see. “I wrote down where the pieces were when…”
When I left. In her mind she finished his sentence.
She nodded dispassionately, but tension crept up her arms. Wind brushed against her cheek harsher than it had mere moments ago. She turned up her collar on the fleece jacket and then, restraining a sigh of sadness, let her chin drop to her chest.
The chessboard had been as much a part of their relationship as anything else. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about it. Maybe it had helped her these past few years not remembering how fun Brett was to be around. And what a good, honorable man he was.
He had come up with the idea of their ongoing chess game after hearing their pastor talk about Psalm 1, about not walking, standing, or even sitting in places where they’d be tempted to compromise. Brett had taken that to heart and had set up a table, two chairs, and a chess set on his apartment balcony. It was there that they’d retreat whenever she visited his apartment, which was closer to campus than the house she’d shared with a few other girls. He’d insisted that they play at least one move, but most of the time that was as far as the game progressed.
It wasn’t about the chess game. Not at all. It was about sitting in full view of their neighbors and those who hung out in the apartment pool below in order to resist temptation.
Sometimes he’d stretch his hand across the table to hold hers. Sometimes she’d even move her folding chair around to his side and lean against him as they’d watch the pink and orange sunset over the Pacific. But most of the time they’d just talk, words of future hopes, current struggles, and past pain crossing over the chess set, mingling with the sea breeze and filling each other’s hearts.
The pieces made soft clicks as he set them up now. In the distance a birdsong carried through the air. She took a deep breath, noticing the salty air here too. Yet the air was different from in California. There was a wild crispness to it.
She glanced up and noticed the pieces were set in place, but she couldn’t consider making a move. Instead her mind flitted back to Danny. Her fingers touched the bare spot on her neck where his diamond necklace had rested. Was it only a week ago? She tried to imagine him setting boundaries to honor her—honor their relationship.
No, that would never happen.
Danny would take everything if she let him—everything precious: her struggling faith, her body, her soul.
But as quickly as that thought entered her mind, new thoughts rose. But I’ve worked so hard for my music. I can set my own pace. I can put up boundaries. I don’t have to give all of myself….
Besides, it was her parents’—Dale and Robyn’s—dream too. They’d wanted this for her as much as she wanted it for herself. They’d paid for all those voice and guitar lessons. Robyn had driven her to countless auditions.
Giving up this dream was like saying their sacrifice didn’t matter—that all they imparted into her life hadn’t made a difference.
Ginny shook her head even as the breeze picked up. No, she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t give up so easily. She eyed the chess pieces. For Brett it would be an easy win, but Ginny didn’t mind playing into his hand. She’d never lost—not really—with him by her side.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
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After their boat ride up and down the bay, Brett had dropped off Ginny and told her to dress for dinner at the lodge. She put on a long coral skirt, white blouse, and green scarf, with jewelry to match. Her hair curled back down around her shoulders, just as she liked it.
Outside on the porch Grandma Ethel chatted with her friend Dove Fowler. Ginny knew she should be social and head out to talk to the women, but Penny had been on her mind all day.
From first glance, she knew the next letter was from Clay.
March 16, 1929
Dear Brother Peter,
I know Ellie wrote of our sweet Penny’s ailment. Let me assure you she’s mending. She’s starting to eat and sit up in bed, even laughs a bit. I am truly grateful. We plan to head home tomorrow.
I need to ask your permission for a certain thing, but first, I owe you a load of thanks. Your faithful prayers and friendship—they saw me through a powerful hard time. You perceived my need more than I did, and I appreciate your tenacity to force your granddaughter on me against my will. It’s done me some good, I’d say. So I gift you those words every man loves to hear, “You were right.”
Adelaide’s never out of my mind’s reach. Her memory will always be close to me. But it’s time for me to open up. She’d want me to, probably give me a world of discomfort if she knew my actions of late. I let my fear of another loss keep me from taking the risk, and that’s wrong.
So I would like to request your Ellie’s hand in marriage—if you find me worthy. I have a family ring, a simple diamond surrounded by littler ones. I’d like to slip it on her finger.
Seeing as we only have a week before I lose my call, and we’re pretty sure you’d approve of the nuptials, we may just perform the ceremony before you receive this. Still, it’s right and proper to ask, even if a person knows the answer. I plan to ask her all official-like, soon as we get to home and settle Penny. Have to say, in spite of all that took place, the journey to Hoonah was the most joyous I’ve had in over a year now.
Your future grandson-in-law,
Clay
March 30, 1929
Dear Grandfather Barnett (I like calling you that!),
My papa and Miss Ellie are home from Hoonah now. I missed them, a lot. Penny was sick but she’s all right. Papa seemed so happy when he came home. Miss Ellie told me they even had a romantic picnic on the way home. Just as we hoped! Do you think he held her hand, Grandfather? Whispered sweet nothings like in the pictures? I do. I know that’s what happened.
But then everything went bad.
I think Papa was going to tell us that they were getting married. I saw the happy looks on their faces, but then Joseph. He ruined it all.
I don’t know what to do.
Janey
April 8, 1929
Dear Grandfather,
I have so much to tell you. When we got home, we were so excited to tell everyone about our time in Hoonah, about us. I imagined their cheeks rounded with joy, their sq
ueals of laughter, their hugs.
What actually happened was a million miles from that. We strolled happily past the garden, saying hello to Mama Moose. Then I spied two little eyes peering out the window. I felt a pang of joyful anticipation as we trotted up the front steps.
As soon as my feet stepped onto the welcome rug inside the door, the tension in the room draped me like a smock, smothering my joy. No one greeted us, no one but sweet Zach. Thank goodness for one smiling face! The others stared at us, waiting.
Before I even had time to set down my satchel or let Penny out of the carrier, Joseph paced toward us. “Papa, Miss Ellie, we have something we want to talk to you about. Linc saw your kayak coming downriver and ran ahead to warn us you were coming.”
My stomach sank like the Titanic. He eyed me with such disapproval, much like Clay did when I first came. Clay must not have noticed. He dropped his gear and pulled Joseph into an embrace.
“Good to see you, son,” he said. He reached for Linc, who stood next to Joseph, a frown creasing his wide forehead. He put on a smile, though, when Clay held him.
“I’m glad you’re home, Uncle Clay.” He glared at Joseph, who shook his head as if in warning.
Next Clay went to Janey. She’d donned her best Sunday dress complete with a crooked pink ribbon in her hair. I fought the urge to fix it for her. Despite her fancy attire, her eyes were red, cheeks splotchy. Clay touched her chin. “Janey, aren’t you quite the lady.” She fell into his arms and cried.
“What’s wrong?”
“Miss Ellie has to go.”
He tossed me a smile. “I heard tell Miss Ellie’s going to stay.”
“That’s not what Joseph said.”
My hands moistened as I asked everyone to sit down, then I heated up water for blackberry tea.
Joseph relented, but his body was so stiff when he sat down on the wooden stool next to the table, I thought he would break it. Clay and the others settled in their spots.
“There’s no use prolonging it.” Joseph put his teacup on the table without taking a sip and stared at his father. “We’ve all decided Miss McKinley needs to go back where she came from.” He shifted toward me for a swift second. “No offense to you, miss.”
