[Alaskan Quest 02] - Under the Northern Lights

by Tracie Peterson

  ‘‘I’ll take your bag,’’ Chase said.

  Leah nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her. ‘‘I can manage it just fine.’’ She jerked away from him and set out for the door. He took hold of her arm, however, and pulled her back. Leah resisted him as he tried to draw her closer.

  ‘‘I certainly hope you didn’t say anything to your friend that would . . . well . . . slow our progress.’’

  ‘‘I wouldn’t risk Emma’s life that way,’’ Leah said, growing very still. She met his gaze and narrowed her eyes. ‘‘I’m not a fool, Chase Kincaid. You’d do well to remember that.’’

  He looked at her oddly for a moment. ‘‘I have never figured you for one, even if you did marry my brother.’’ He let go of her arm. ‘‘Is it true the old woman believes the weather will turn bad on us?’’

  ‘‘Yes. She’s seldom wrong. You can see the signs for yourself. The wind has shifted and increased, the temperatures are colder, and the skies are growing darker on the horizon. Anyone can see it bodes ill.’’

  He shrugged and turned toward the door. ‘‘Then we’d better hurry. We’ve got a lot of distance to cover and apparently a shorter time to do it in than I had planned. Come on.’’

  Leah followed him, but all the while her mind searched for ways she could leave her husband and brother a message, if they returned. She hoped fervently that if they did show up, they would be able to follow the signs. Signs. Leah thought of the word for several seconds. Hurrying back to her chest, she threw open the lid and reached for a red checked tablecloth. It had been placed here for mending, but now Leah thought its purpose would be better served in tattered pieces.

  ‘‘Leah, come on!’’ Chase called. His voice betrayed his frustration with her.

  Leah took the tablecloth and stuffed it inside her parka. The layers would add warmth when the weather turned bad, and hopefully she could find ways to leave pieces of the material along the trail for whoever might come to her rescue. If anyone even realized she needed to be rescued.

  Chapter Four

  By the time Leah got to the sled, Chase was studying the western skies. She could sense that things were not shaping up well, and apparently he was pondering the same thing. Looking at him as if his answer didn’t matter, Leah asked, ‘‘Are you sure we have to leave today?’’

  ‘‘Unless you want your loved ones to die,’’ he replied in a gruff manner. He didn’t sound the least bit happy.

  The dogs yipped and danced anxiously in their harnesses. They loved to run and couldn’t understand the holdup. Behind them, some forty other dogs yelped and howled at the injustice of being left behind. Trying to forget the situation for a moment, Leah leaned down and scratched the lead dog behind the ears. Marty, who had been a fun-loving pup, had turned into a first-class leader.

  ‘‘So what’s it to be?’’

  Leah was surprised he’d asked her opinion. ‘‘You know the answer to that.’’ Leah didn’t even bother to look at Chase. ‘‘I’m willing to brave the dangers.’’

  ‘‘Are you sure ten dogs will be enough?’’

  Leah looked at the team. They were some of Jacob’s best, known for their strength and predictability. ‘‘These are some of the strongest. They are very experienced, and I wouldn’t expect trouble from them. Some of the others are less reliable.’’

  ‘‘I suppose I’ll have to take your word on it. My own experience has taught me much, and they seem capable.’’ He acted as though he was about to walk away, then turned back to her. ‘‘By the way, I want you to drive the dogs. I want you busy,’’ Chase said, climbing into the basket. ‘‘Besides, they know you better. No sense starting out with animal troubles.’’

  Leah straightened and eyed him with a frown. ‘‘But I have no idea where we’re going.’’

  ‘‘North. I told you that much. Head north as if you were traveling to Mary’s Igloo—you do know where that’s at, don’t you?’’ Leah nodded and he continued. ‘‘I’ll let you know when it’s time to veer off the trail.’’

  Leah pulled on her sealskin mittens. There was nothing to do but cooperate. She pulled her pack from her back and secured it in the basket beside Chase. It would be far easier to manage the dogs without the cumbersome weight on her shoulders.

  She freed the anchoring hook and jumped to the runners in one motion. ‘‘Ho, Marty! Hike!’’

  The dogs began to bark in earnest as they strained against the weight and pulled the sled into motion. Leah felt the wind against her skin and realized she’d forgotten to wrap a scarf around her face. She considered trying to manage it and the team but knew that would never work. The dogs were just starting out, and their enthusiasm was much too high. She would need all of her skills and focus to control them.

  Besides, it’s not that cold, she reasoned. We’ll stop for a break soon enough, and I can deal with it then. But Leah knew that normally she wouldn’t have forgotten such a precaution. Alaska was a harsh companion at times, and often unforgiving. Jacob had always reminded her that a person had to pay attention to every step, every inch of land, every breath. There were just too many potential problems.

  If I hadn’t been so upset with this situation, she told herself, I never would have forgotten to secure my scarf. She pulled the parka farther down, cutting some of the chill. Her mind flooded with questions and thoughts. She wondered how she might facilitate an escape once she found the others. Timing, no doubt, would be one of the more critical issues.

  Having made the trip to Mary’s Igloo many times with Jacob, Leah was somewhat familiar with the territory. The coastal flatlands broke into small hills from time to time, and in the distance the mountains created a daunting barrier to the interior. Of course, there were ways through those places as well. There were always ways around obstacles—if a person paid attention.

  Leah had lived in this area for over ten years, and in that time her training had been intense. She thought of the ways Ayoona had assisted her in learning the vegetation, especially beneficial herbs. She and Oopick had also worked to teach Leah about watching the weather, the seasonal signs, and even animal tracks and behavior. Living successfully in Alaska was all about observation. Leah was glad for the opportunity to drive the sled. The work gave her something to think on other than her circumstance. But even with this job, she couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift.

  Jacob and Jayce were out there somewhere. Chase knew where they were and knew what he planned to do with them. Leah, too, wanted to make plans—to think ahead to that moment when they might all be free again.

  ‘‘Lord, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this,’’ she whispered, knowing that Chase would never hear her with the wind and his own insulated parka distorting the sound. ‘‘Please help us, Lord. Keep Jacob and Jayce safe and help them get free from whatever place Chase has put them. Help Helaina too.’’ She said the latter almost as an afterthought. Her feelings toward Helaina were still too emotional and raw. She blamed Helaina for all this, and it was difficult to feel sympathy for the girl. I’ve defended her so many times—to so many people. Just yesterday I defended her to Ayoona, and now I feel so angry. It wasn’t easy to consider Helaina, however, without thinking of her brother.

  Jacob cares for her very much, Leah reasoned. What if he rescues her and decides to marry her? I’ll have to accept this woman as family. The thought made Leah uncomfortable. Helaina was a woman who loved the noises and the smells of the city, who talked often of her home in New York and of the life she missed. Jacob would never want to be a part of those things. Jacob loved the land and the wide-open spaces.

  Leah sighed. Maybe nothing would come of Helaina and Jacob’s relationship. After all, she couldn’t see either one of them coming to terms with where they might live. And if they couldn’t come to terms on something that simple—how could they ever hope to make a marriage work?

  They stopped the dogs and had a small lunch nearly three hours later. The winds were grow
ing fierce and the skies had turned a leaden color. Winter had come early to the Seward Peninsula, and the snow and cold were more intense than usual. It felt and looked more like January than nearly November. ‘‘We should find a place to take shelter. It would be good,’’ Leah said, ‘‘to find a nook away from the direct flow of the wind.’’

  ‘‘Do you have a suggestion?’’ Chase asked, finishing the last of the boiled seal meat Leah had given him.

  ‘‘I haven’t been up this way in some time,’’ Leah admitted. ‘‘But I’m thinking we need to hurry. It’s already starting to snow, and the wind will soon whip it into a blizzard.’’

  Chase got to his feet. ‘‘Then let’s move out. Get us as far as possible, and if a good place to camp presents itself, then take it. Maybe we’ll make better time tomorrow.’’

  Leah nodded and readied the dogs. They needed little encouragement. They were still eager to move ahead, and Leah found their enthusiasm matched her own. Perhaps they knew they were going to find their master soon.

  By early afternoon the snow still fell and the temperatures had lowered even more. But the wind held back, almost as if God blocked it with His hand. At least that was how Leah liked to think of it. Thoughts like that helped her feel less lonely.

  Leah was about to give up hope of a shelter when she spotted a place between a couple of small hills. She urged the dogs in that direction and felt only moderate relief when the cut seemed to offer perfect protection.

  ‘‘Help me get the tent up or we’ll both be in for it,’’ Leah called as the wind seemed to pick up a little. ‘‘I can’t do this by myself.’’

  Chase didn’t hesitate, much to her relief. He took up the canvas and held it in place while Leah drove the stakes into the frozen ground. It wasn’t easy to do, but in about ten minutes they were able to raise the pole to secure the tent. The wind whipped at their refuge in a merciless fashion, despite the hill’s meager protection.

  Leah finished securing the dogs while Chase took their needed supplies into the tent. Listing the tasks in her mind, Leah realized there would be much to do before she could rest. She needed to melt snow for the dogs to drink, as well as some for herself and Chase. Next she’d have to fix food for them all. Perhaps she’d just throw the dogs some frozen fish and worry about something warm later.

  She crawled into the tent as the snow grew more blinding. There was no hope of keeping the snow completely out of the tent, but Leah tried her best. ‘‘I’m glad you agreed to stop,’’ she said, securing the tent flap.

  ‘‘It’s no problem for me,’’ Chase said, lighting a seal oil lamp for warmth. ‘‘I’m not the one waiting for my return.’’

  Leah frowned. ‘‘How can you be so callous about human life? About the death of others?’’

  ‘‘Everybody dies, Leah.’’

  She looked at him as she pushed back her parka. ‘‘Yes, that’s true enough.’’ She pulled her mittens off and let them dangle on the cording that attached them to her coat. ‘‘You just seem intent on helping some of them die sooner than they might ordinarily have.’’

  He shrugged and gave her a cold-blooded smile. ‘‘We all have our jobs to do.’’

  Her anger spilled over like the river during spring breakup. ‘‘I’ve never met anyone as evil as you.’’

  He looked almost hurt. ‘‘Evil? You have the audacity to call me evil? Your friend Mrs. Beecham runs all over the world trying to catch me for the purpose of putting me to death. Why is it acceptable for her to kill me, but not the other way around? Then, too, what about the world at war? Soon America will no doubt be a part of that European fiasco. What about that evil? Will you so readily condemn those who fight, as you condemn me?’’

  ‘‘They fight for a cause—for their countries, for their homes.’’

  ‘‘And I, too, fight for a cause,’’ Chase protested. ‘‘My cause— me. I’ve never had an easy or simple way. Yet I find a way that works for me—an unconventional way, I suppose you could say.’’

  ‘‘What way? Thievery? Murder?’’

  Chase’s expression seemed confused for a moment. He considered his words, then shook his head. ‘‘I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve set yourself against me and will not be persuaded to feel sympathy for my cause.’’

  Leah could hardly believe his words. ‘‘Is that what you want from us? Sympathy?’’

  Chase again shrugged. ‘‘Sympathy is a start. At least sympathetic people do not have the tendency to seek your life.’’

  ‘‘I’m sympathetic when one of the dogs gives birth to pups that aren’t healthy enough to live. But I still put them out of their misery.’’ Leah’s words were delivered in such a cold, even manner that they frightened her. When had she become so lacking in compassion for the life of another human being? How could she call herself a Christian and still feel such hatred?

  Hoping Chase would drop the subject, she reached for one of the food sacks. ‘‘Dried salmon and crackers should make us a decent supper,’’ she muttered.

  ‘‘So are you trying to tell me that you would kill me if you had the chance?’’

  Leah looked up to find Chase watching her. She considered his words for a moment, then shook her head. ‘‘I wouldn’t kill you. You’re the only one with the knowledge of where my husband and brother are. Not to mention Mrs. Beecham. If I killed you, I’d have to go find them myself.’’

  Chase laughed. ‘‘That’s very true. I’m glad you realize that I have the upper hand in this situation. The people you love so much will die if you fail to completely cooperate with me.’’

  Leah felt a chill run down her spine. Chase had a way of taking the fire from her anger. ‘‘I never said I wouldn’t cooperate with you.’’

  Chase studied her for a moment and nodded. ‘‘Just so long as you remember the facts. I feel as if I must constantly remind you.’’

  ‘‘I need no reminding. I need my family back safe and sound.’’

  They existed in silence after that. Chase seemed to doze off and on, while Leah recited Bible verses and poetry, and prayed. An hour or so later the snow abated and the winds calmed. Leah found herself surprised by this turn of events. She had fully expected the storm to rage on for hours, even days. The thought had grieved her, leaving her worried for Jacob and Jayce.

  ‘‘I need to feed the dogs,’’ she announced. ‘‘I’m also going to set some traps. Hopefully we’ll have fresh meat in the morning.’’

  Chase leaned up on his elbow and narrowed his eyes. ‘‘Remember, if you try to get away from me, I’ll kill them all. Then I’ll go back to the village and kill your friends there.’’

  ‘‘I gave you my word, Chase. I told you that I would cooperate until I knew that Jacob and Jayce were safe.’’ But only until they’re safe. ‘‘I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize them.’’

  With that, Leah pulled on her mittens and secured her parka hood. The chilled night air hit her face and lungs and took her breath momentarily, but it quickly refreshed and invigorated her in a way she had not anticipated. She felt strength replace the defeated spirit she’d known only moments before.

  Leah held up a lantern to see in the darkness. She fed the dogs, then walked well away from the camp to set and bait the two traps she’d brought. There was always the danger of encountering a wild animal, but at this point, the risk was worth taking. Chase wasn’t about to see her armed for protection.

  ‘‘I don’t know why he’s done this,’’ she said, trudging through the snow with her traps and lantern. Finding a promising spot, Leah stopped and set to work. She prayed as she hid the mechanisms in the snow. ‘‘Lord, I don’t know what we need, but you do. Please help me to help Jacob and Jayce—even Helaina. Please show me what to do—and when to do it.’’

  Walking back to her tent, Leah was startled by a sound that rose up behind her. She turned quickly, half expecting Chase to have followed her. Instead, the noise sounded again, only this time her gaze went heavenward. T
here in the night skies danced the northern lights in impressive displays of reds and greens and whites. The sky was ablaze in color.

  For a moment, Leah felt her breath catch. The northern lights were one of the most beautiful sights she’d ever known. She’d never gotten tired of this wonder. She remembered seeing them for the first time as a teenager; one of the sourdoughs in Dawson City had told her that if you whistled the lights would move faster, but though she’d tried it, Leah didn’t think it worked. Still, she had to admit that the display was breathtaking. It made her feel as though God himself were swirling the skies with some heavenly paintbrush.

  ‘‘Oh, Father,’’ she whispered. ‘‘It’s almost as if you are speaking directly to me—as if you want me to know for sure that you are here for me.’’ Leah felt her heart grow warm in her chest. ‘‘It is a sign for me; I’m certain of it. A sign that I shouldn’t give up hope. You are here.’’ Her voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. ‘‘You are here for me.’’

  A peace she’d not known since finding Chase in her house at Last Chance washed over her in waves that matched the pulsating rhythm of the aurora. She had no idea how she would deal with Chase once he finally reunited her with her husband and brother, but Leah felt more confident that, when the time came, she’d know instinctively what to do.

  The evening passed quickly, despite Leah’s discomfort with such close quarters. When she announced her desire to sleep, Chase tied her hands and feet together, then secured the rope loosely, but effectively, behind her back. Leah didn’t protest his actions. She knew he needed the reassurance that he would remain in power. She wanted him to have no reason to doubt her full cooperation.

  ‘‘You’re a beautiful woman, Leah,’’ he said as he pulled a fur around her. He touched her cheek. ‘‘We could really benefit each other nicely on this trip.’’