[Alaskan Quest 02] - Under the Northern Lights

by Tracie Peterson

  Ashlie laughed. ‘‘Of course I will. Now stop worrying. Remember what you said about worry being a sin? You said it was like saying that God couldn’t do what He had promised. It was like calling God a liar.’’

  Karen drew a deep breath and nodded. ‘‘I guess I thought you weren’t listening to such things.’’

  Ashlie grasped her mother’s arm. ‘‘I was listening to that and a whole lot more. Please . . . don’t be afraid. I’ll come and see you soon. You’ll see.’’

  Karen knew she had to be brave. She squared her shoulders and drew in another deep breath. ‘‘I know you’ll have a wonderful time. Don’t forget to write to me and tell me everything.’’

  ‘‘Papa’s coming!’’ nine-year-old Christopher declared. ‘‘See! There he is with the reverend.’’

  Karen turned to look in the direction her son pointed. Sure enough, there was her bear of a husband towering over the rather petite Reverend Mulberry. They looked almost comical in each other’s company. As they approached, Karen put on her bravest smile. ‘‘Reverend, it’s good to see you. I can’t thank you enough for acting as a traveling companion to our daughter.’’

  ‘‘It is I who am blessed,’’ the older man said, pushing up wire-rimmed glasses that perpetually rested on the end of his nose. ‘‘How could I refuse such sweet company? Or such a generous donation to bettering my own quarters. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a stateroom to myself. I think it all so fortuitous that I should be traveling home to Illinois just when you needed a companion for your daughter.’’

  Karen looked to her husband and back to the reverend. ‘‘God knew exactly what we needed, and it was our pleasure to improve your journey. You are, after all, guarding one of our most precious gifts.’’

  He nodded. ‘‘Indeed, Miss Ashlie is a remarkable girl. I’ve no doubt she will excel in her finishing school.’’

  ‘‘You have the address and money I gave you to hire transportation to Myrtle’s house?’’ Adrik asked Ashlie.

  ‘‘It’s all right here,’’ Ashlie declared, patting her small purse. ‘‘I shall keep it with me at all times.’’

  The final boarding was called for all passengers bound for Seattle. Ashlie looked momentarily panic-stricken, and then the expression was replaced by one of sheer joy. ‘‘It’s time!’’ She threw herself into her father’s arms.

  Karen watched the scene play out, feeling almost as though she were watching from a dream. Ashlie tousled Christopher’s hair and then embraced him for just a moment. The boy was clearly embarrassed by the whole thing and squirmed out of her hold. Oliver, suddenly quite somber, allowed the hug and even offered Ashlie the briefest peck on the cheek.

  ‘‘I’ll miss you both,’’ Ashlie told her brothers before turning back to her mother. ‘‘I’ll miss all of you, but I’ve wanted to do this for so long.’’

  Karen smiled and embraced her daughter one final time. ‘‘I know you’re happy, and that pleases me. But I feel as though I’m sending a part of my heart away. Guard it well.’’ She felt tears fall and didn’t try to hide them. She needed Ashlie to understand the importance of this moment.

  ‘‘I promise I will, Mama,’’ Ashlie whispered against her mother’s ear. She pulled back and saw the tears. Instantly her eyes dampened. ‘‘We’re a fine pair,’’ she said, barely keeping her voice from quivering.

  Karen nodded. ‘‘A fine pair indeed.’’

  The reverend had moved to the gangplank, where he waited patiently for Ashlie to join him. Adrik prayed for their safe journey, then handed Ashlie’s small bag to her. ‘‘I’ll miss you, my girl. Don’t forget to write to us in Seward, care of the railroad. We leave the day after tomorrow.’’

  ‘‘I won’t forget.’’

  And then she was gone, moving up the gangplank, Reverend Mulberry at her side. They appeared to be chatting comfortably, neither one too concerned about the people they were leaving behind.

  Adrik came and put his arm around Karen’s shoulders. She felt comfort at his touch, but her tears would not stop flowing.

  ‘‘Are you all right, Mama?’’ Christopher asked. He patted her hand as if to help. Oliver came to stand in front of her beside his brother. He simply looked up at her, as if ascertaining her well-being. ‘‘I’ll be all right, boys.’’ She hoped her voice sounded reassuring. She wiped at the tears with her handkerchief, then spied Ashlie and the reverend at the rail. They were waving goodbye along with many other people. Karen waved her handkerchief rather than shouting her good-bye because words would not come.

  How can I let her go, just like that? Send her thousands of miles away . . .Oh, Ashlie . . . please be safe. Please be happy.

  ‘‘Your boots are smoking,’’ Chase said, sounding rather startled. ‘‘Do you not see it?’’

  Leah looked at the mukluks and realized her fate. Sitting beside the fire, she’d not even noticed that her mukluks were being singed by the flames. She pulled her feet back and powdered them with snow. Bitterness corrupted her thinking. She was making mistakes at a time when she couldn’t afford to make them. She could feel Chase watch her; still, she did her best to ignore him— to pretend he simply didn’t exist.

  ‘‘How is Mrs. Beecham today?’’ Chase asked.

  Leah said nothing. Helaina was still quite ill, and Chase already knew it. He was simply trying to engage her in conversation. Leah felt certain he regretted what he’d done to her. But he could never regret it as much as she did.

  Leah stared at the fire, her shoulders hunched, her face kept down. As Chase squatted down beside her, she cringed inwardly but held her ground.

  ‘‘Look,’’ he began. ‘‘I don’t know what to say. I can’t change what happened. I . . . well . . .’’ His voice faded as he seemed to consider what to say. ‘‘I didn’t intend for it to happen. Not really. I know I’ve acted inappropriately since we first met, but . . . well . . . you must understand, what happened wasn’t a reflection on you at all.’’

  Leah’s head snapped up. This was nothing like the man who’d tormented her since forcing her from Last Chance. She looked at him in disbelief. ‘‘You sound as though you’re offering conversation over tea and cakes. As though the offense was something as simple as a stolen kiss. You didn’t intend for it to happen . . . it isn’t a reflection on me. Is that supposed to make me feel better?

  Is that supposed to make it right?’’

  Chase shook his head. He no longer looked as much like her husband as he had when she’d first met him. Worry, fear, even exhaustion marred his features, and the beard he’d grown on the trail also altered his face. He seemed to hold less power over her now. . . . It was almost as if he’d done the worst to her that he could, so what was left to fear? Death would have been a kindness, as far as Leah was concerned.

  ‘‘I know it can’t make things right,’’ Chase said, getting to his feet. He paced out a space on the opposite side of the fire. ‘‘I don’t know why I did what I did. I wanted to hurt you . . . but not really even you. I wanted to hurt him.’’ He looked at her hard. ‘‘I wanted to hurt Jayce.’’

  ‘‘I don’t care,’’ Leah said evenly. She had never intended to get into a conversation with this hideous creature. She looked down at the fire again.

  ‘‘You should. The hate between us will probably kill us both.’’

  She shook her head, still not looking at him. ‘‘The hate has already killed you. You aren’t a human being anymore. You’re an animal. You kill and maim at will. You are like a rabid dog gone mad and you need to be eliminated.’’

  ‘‘So the good Christian now wishes me dead?’’

  This caused an anger in Leah that she had not expected. Leaping to her feet, she jumped the fire to claw at his arrogant face. ‘‘You have no right,’’ she said, flailing as he fought to control her. ‘‘You lost your right to compassion and kindness when you took from me what you had no right to take.’’

  ‘‘But that’s what I’m trying to say.’’ He pushed her b
ack, almost pained at the contact of even touching her. ‘‘I took from Jayce. Not from you.’’

  Leah saw the emotion in his eyes but didn’t care. She balled her hands into fists. ‘‘I am Jayce and he is me. When you harm one of us, the other bleeds. You are a fool. You have no idea what you have done. The war between you and your brother has only grown more intense . . . more destructive. Jayce will never let you live now. Not that I care. I only hope your actions don’t get Jayce hurt in the process.’’

  She could hardly believe her own venomous words. There was nothing of the love of Jesus in her heart at that moment. Her anger and wounded spirit refused to be calmed by the comfort she knew could be hers.

  Chase seemed genuinely stunned by her reaction. Perhaps he had thought to merely apologize and seek her forgiveness. Maybe he believed her a simpleton because of her religious beliefs. Whatever his reasoning, there could be no doubting her thoughts now.

  Chase straightened. ‘‘I can’t undo what’s happened. What’s done is done.’’

  His matter-of-fact words served only to further irritate Leah. ‘‘Oh, it’s not done, Mr. Kincaid. Not by a long shot. Jayce will come for you. He will come because of Helaina and because of me. And when he finds out what you have done to us . . . he will even the score.’’

  She turned and walked away, going to the tent where Helaina slept. Leah was certain the woman was dying. There simply wasn’t proper medicine to treat her sickness. Leah crouched down and crawled inside the tent. It was surprisingly warm. Leah had lit a pot of seal oil for light and heat, and the results were quite satisfactory. Reaching out, Leah touched Helaina’s forehead and felt that the fever still raged. If she couldn’t find a way to ease the temperature, Helaina would no doubt die.

  Leah shook her head. If only Helaina would have done what she was supposed to do. If only the woman would have been obedient to her brother.

  ‘‘This is all your fault,’’ Leah said, shaking her head. ‘‘I hate you as much as I hate him. I don’t care whether you live or die. You’ve brought this on yourself.’’

  Leah regretted the words the minute they were out of her mouth. But perhaps more than that, she regretted the ugly hate that festered, out of control, in her heart. There seemed no way to overcome it. She was a prisoner to those feelings, as much as she was a captive of Chase Kincaid.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leah’s mind was made up. Botanist Teddy Davenport, dear friend from the gold rush days, had sent Leah a nice shipment of herbs that weren’t available in her part of Alaska. He knew of her medical work in Last Chance and had kindly sent the herbs, along with instructions for their use, to help in her cause.

  She had some of these herbs with her now. One of them was belladonna—deadly nightshade, as some called it. A little bit could be used to relieve respiratory spasms. In fact, she had used some to ease Helaina’s cough. A little higher dosage could be used as a sedative for surgery. More still could cause death.

  Leah would simply slip some belladonna into the food that night and put Chase to sleep. Once he was asleep, she would take Helaina and they would head out. She’d tried to focus on the trail as Chase pushed them ever farther north and into the interior. She’d never journeyed this direction and hadn’t even heard Jacob tell tales of such trips. It would be difficult to escape and make an easy path home, but to do anything else might well end her life . . . or Chase’s.

  The rage she felt toward Chase terrified Leah. She tried to calm her spirit, but she found there was no reasoning with herself at times. Just as soon as she’d convince herself that everything would be all right—that Jayce would still love her and that she would heal from the damage done by Chase—her anger would resurface, and Leah found herself wishing fervently that she could exact her revenge.

  The days were shorter than ever. Leah had lost track of the time but knew that if they continued north they would soon have no daylight at all. That would make travel very dangerous. She felt certain Chase couldn’t be all that capable in such circumstances.

  Chase brought them to a stop earlier than Leah had expected. He’d grown careless of late—no longer going back to see that the trails were obliterated, nor concerned about having a fire at night. He had even allowed Leah to begin trapping again, although the catches had not been good.

  Tonight, Leah thought, tonight I will end this one way or another. She tried to think of exactly how to handle the situation. She would set the traps and hope that perhaps something could be caught before she needed to leave the area. She would prepare Helaina’s medicated broth and while measuring out those herbs, would add the belladonna to the main dish. The trick would be to put aside some food for herself—food that hadn’t been tainted. She couldn’t risk putting herself to sleep along with Chase and Helaina.

  ‘‘Will you set the traps tonight?’’ Chase asked in a gentle tone. Since the assault, he had strangely gone out of his way to ease the tension between them, but Leah wanted no part of it.

  ‘‘Don’t I set them every night? At least every night that you aren’t too fearful to let me out of your sight?’’ She wished immediately that she could take the words back. Perhaps she should force herself to be nice to him—just long enough to put her plan into motion. No, she thought just as quickly. He’ll know that something’s going on if I treat him well. I have to continue with things just as they are or it will ruin my plans. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and set her jaw. ‘‘So are you letting me set them tonight?’’

  ‘‘I see no reason to do otherwise.’’ He seemed rather thoughtful for a moment. ‘‘You always manage to make us good meals.

  You’re a good cook.’’

  She hated his patronage. She knew his words were only intended to sooth his own guilty conscience, and Leah refused to give him such comfort.

  ‘‘Your flattery means nothing.’’ She glared at him. ‘‘You are still worse than an animal. I’ll not absolve you of your sins.’’

  ‘‘But what of forgiveness?’’ Chase asked, surprising her. ‘‘Doesn’t your God require you give forgiveness when people seek it?’’

  ‘‘Lately my God has required a great many things of me,’’ Leah answered. ‘‘If He wants me to forgive you, however, He’s asking too much.’’

  She stomped off toward the sled basket, where Helaina slept. The traps were tied to the side toward the back. Leah reached out and touched Helaina’s forehead. To her surprise it seemed the fever had lessened considerably. Leah checked the younger woman’s breathing. It appeared much less labored, more even. Perhaps Mrs. Beecham was on the mend.

  ‘‘How is she?’’ Chase asked, coming up behind Leah.

  Leah jumped and moved away as though he might touch her.

  ‘‘She’s very sick. I’ve already told you that.’’

  Leah turned to go, but Chase questioned her again. ‘‘Should I put her in the tent?’’

  Leah hated that he was asking her opinion. He was doing this only to force her into conversation, thinking she might crack under his kindness and give him what he seemed to crave more than anything: her pardon.

  ‘‘I think she’ll be warmer and more comfortable in the sled.’’ Leah kept her answers short and without emotion. She walked away without waiting for him to respond and was glad when he said nothing.

  With the traps set, Leah went back to their cache of food and began to unwrap the supplies. She thought of what she was about to do and realized that she had no concern for Chase’s well-being. She knew the herbs she would use could kill if too much was consumed. She knew, too, that some people reacted violently to the medication. She’d seen a man die in their village when he’d had such a reaction. But her heart was hardened. If Chase died, she’d consider it justice and nothing more.

  The wind picked up, causing the flames to dance in their campfire. Leah watched the show and thought of a time long ago when she had sat at her mother’s knee before their hearth. She could almost feel her mother brushing out her hair . .
. almost hear her speak.

  ‘‘Leah,’’ her mother had said, ‘‘sometimes life is very hard. It doesn’t mean God no longer cares. It’s just the way things are at times.’’

  ‘‘But it seems unfair,’’ Leah had replied. ‘‘If God loves us so very much that He would send His Son Jesus to die for us, then why not keep the bad things away from us?’’

  Her mother had leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. ‘‘I wish I had an easy answer for you, my love. God has His reasons.They sometimes seem cruel, I know. But I promise you, Leah, even when things seem confusing and wrong, God loves you. He’s still by your side, holding your hand—guiding you through the painful times.’’

  Leah didn’t realize she was crying until droplets fell onto her hands as she prepared the hare she had saved from the previous night. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her sleeve and tried not to think about the memory of her mother. The thoughts would not leave her, however.

  Life might have been very different had her mother lived. Leah might never have come to Alaska. She might never have known the sorrows and betrayals that had haunted her days. Jayce Kincaid might never have entered her life, and without him there would certainly have been no Chase.

  But would I trade away the good along with the bad? The question permeated her hard façade. There were many wonderful things that had also come her way. The love she knew with Jayce had been the fulfillment of everything she had hoped for. Would she throw that away as well?

  ‘‘But that’s all ended now,’’ she said, not meaning to speak the words aloud. She looked up, wondering if Chase had overheard her. Yet he was nowhere in sight. Sometimes he took himself away from the camp, but never for long. Often he was trying his best to hunt food, but for some reason the game was quite scarce in this area.

  Leah turned her attention back to the broth. Ayoona had given her some dried mazué—Eskimo potatoes. Leah had hoarded them away for times when the food was scarce. The mazué were good by themselves and could even be eaten raw with seal oil. This time, however, Leah thought the added treat might entice Chase to eat more than a small portion. Cutting the roots with her ulu, Leah made a list in her head of things she needed to do in order to make her escape plan work.