I will need to hide the knife so that I can cut my bonds if Chase ties me up tonight. Her hope was that the belladonna would work quickly and Chase would fall asleep long before he thought of securing Leah for the night.
I will also need to collect the traps and anything that might be in them. She glanced at the basket. Helaina continued to sleep, but Leah figured to wake her and get some of the drugged broth down her.
She couldn’t risk having Helaina awaken and raise a fuss about their leaving Chase behind.
Leah portioned out some of the broth and left the rest of the soup to cook. She put another dose of belladonna in the mixture and stirred it for several seconds. This should keep Helaina asleep and cooperative.
Going to the basket, Leah arranged things so that she could sit beside the sick woman. ‘‘Helaina, wake up. I have some broth for you.’’
To her surprise, Helaina managed to open her eyes. ‘‘Are we there yet?’’
‘‘Where?’’ Leah was surprised by the woman’s question.
Helaina shook her head. ‘‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just . . . wondered . . . why we’d stopped.’’
‘‘We’ve stopped for the night, and no, we aren’t there—wherever there might be. We’re still in the middle of the wilds.’’ Leah lifted a spoonful of broth. ‘‘Now take this. It will make you feel better.’’
‘‘I do feel better,’’ Helaina replied. ‘‘I don’t feel so cold.’’
‘‘I think your fever broke. I can’t be sure that it will remain gone, but for now it seems to have passed. That’s why you must take your medicine.’’
‘‘Thank you for taking care of me.’’ She swallowed the broth and closed her eyes. ‘‘That’s very good. What is it?’’
‘‘It’s just a concoction of things,’’ Leah replied honestly. ‘‘I used what I had available. You have to keep up your strength.’’
‘‘I know you . . . are . . . unhappy with me,’’ Helaina said before taking more of the soup. ‘‘I’m sorry for the . . . trouble I’ve caused. I hope you’ll forgive me.’’
Leah grimaced. Yet another person asking for forgiveness, as though that might suddenly make everything fine. She spooned more soup into Helaina’s mouth, hoping to silence her, but it didn’t work.
‘‘I know your faith is strong. I know you will forgive me, but . . . well . . . sometimes I think I don’t deserve forgiveness.’’
Leah focused on the bowl. ‘‘There are times when everyone feels that way. I think people especially feel that way when they know just how wrong they were to begin with.’’
Helaina shook her head. ‘‘I know I went about things in the wrong . . . way.’’ She yawned and Leah knew the herbs were working.
‘‘Forget about it. You need to stop talking and eat.’’
Helaina gave up the discussion and Leah breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t had to lie and tell Helaina that she didn’t feel like forgiving her and then wrestle with some argument about why Leah was obligated to forgive.
By the time the bowl of soup was gone, Helaina was once again unconscious. Her heavy breathing suggested a very deep sleep. Leah felt a huge sense of relief as she returned to the fire and checked the soup. Everything was ready. All she needed now was for Chase to return. Leah pulled out the portion of meat and broth she’d hidden for herself. She slipped a few pieces of root into her own mixture and stirred it before sampling.
‘‘It smells marvelous,’’ Chase said, once again slipping into camp without a sound.
‘‘It’s ready.’’
Leah continued eating her own portion, hoping he’d sit down and serve himself. To her surprise, he did just that. She tried not to look anxious as he began to eat. He ate nearly half a bowl before commenting further.
‘‘It tastes as good as it smelled. I could eat the entire pot.’’
‘‘Do as you will. I have all I want.’’ Leah hoped her words sounded indifferent. She didn’t want him to suspect a thing. Not until she was long gone.
Chase dished himself more food and sat back. Leah finished her bowl and grew nervous about what to do next. She had slipped the ulu under the fur on which she sat and hoped Chase wouldn’t ask for it as he usually did after their meal was concluded.
‘‘You know, when I was a young man we ate very well. After my father made his fortune, we had the best of everything. I remember sumptuous meals. Huge roasted baron of beef, five and six side dishes with gravy and sauces that made your mouth water just to see them on the table. Oh, and the bread . . . Our cook could make the flakiest rolls—nothing like the sourdough we get up here.’’ He yawned but continued eating.
Leah thought to show him that she felt just as tired. She faked a yawn of her own and forced herself to lean in a relaxed manner near the fire. Chase seemed completely at ease as he continued with his memories.
‘‘My favorite things were the desserts. Oh, we had such wonderful creations.’’ He smiled. ‘‘I’m sure I’m boring you—that’s why you’re so tired. I’ll get the tent set up as soon as I finish here.’’
‘‘Don’t bother on my account,’’ Leah said with a yawn. ‘‘I plan to sleep in the basket with Helaina. She’ll need my warmth. I’ve no desire to share the tent with you any more than I have to.’’
Chase frowned. His eyelids seemed heavy. ‘‘I’ll have to tie you up.’’
‘‘Why should tonight be any different?’’ Leah asked sarcastically. She changed the subject then, hoping to keep his mind occupied elsewhere. ‘‘How long must we continue this journey? Where are you taking us and when will we finally be there?’’
Chase shook his head and downed the last of his meal. ‘‘Not long now. I have a cabin not far from here. It’s on the river. It’s plenty warm with lots of wood. It’ll keep us well through the winter.’’
‘‘You expect to keep us there all winter?’’ Leah questioned. ‘‘Then what?’’
Chase seemed to struggle to think. Leah thought he looked almost puzzled at her question. ‘‘I don’t know what we’ll do then. We have to deal with Jayce first. I know he will come. It might take him a while, but eventually I’ll have to deal with him.’’
‘‘Jayce will hunt you down. You can be assured of that.’’
Chase put the bowl down and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t quite keep them open. ‘‘What . . . what have you done? What have you put in the food?’’
Leah laughed, but the sound was choked and unnatural. ‘‘I’ve put in deadly nightshade, some mazué, and the last of our snowshoe hare.’’
‘‘Nightshade!’’ He tried to get up but fell back down. ‘‘You’ve poisoned it. You’ve . . . decided . . . to kill me.’’
‘‘Kill you? Why, Mr. Kincaid, as much as I would love to see you pay the ultimate price for your crimes, I have done no such thing. I certainly don’t need your death on my conscience.’’
He fell sideways and struggled to keep awake. ‘‘I should shoot you now.’’ He pulled the gun from his coat, but it fell from his hands even as he attempted to raise it.
Leah sat up and watched him fight against the herbs. ‘‘It’s no use, you know. Belladonna is quite potent. You will be asleep for several hours. More than enough for me to take Helaina and the dogs and leave.’’
He let his head fall hard against the ground. The jarring prompted him to open his eyes for just a moment. ‘‘You’ll leave me to my death.’’
‘‘Maybe,’’ Leah said, getting to her feet. She came to where he rested and picked up the gun. The temptation to put a bullet through his head was strong. The smell of his breath against her face, his hands on her body, his pleasure despite her pain . . . the memories begged for her to kill him.
For a moment Leah wrestled with her conscience. She wanted nothing more than to put an end once and for all to this miserable chapter of her life. But would it end? If she killed him now, no one would blame her. They would take into consideration the kidnapping and the rape, and the great possibility
that Chase had planned to kill both her and Helaina.
But even as Leah fingered the cold metal of the revolver, she knew she couldn’t shoot a defenseless man. She looked at Chase, his expression now relaxed in sleep. He deserved to die, but she’d leave that for someone else.
Without another thought, Leah slipped the gun into her pocket and went to work. She collected her things and loaded them in the sled. She thought to leave Chase without anything, but she couldn’t do it. She knew the cruelty of the north. She portioned out a few supplies and left him a knife. There was no possibility of leaving him the rifle or the revolver. It would be dangerous for him to be left without a gun, but Leah couldn’t risk it.
The traps were empty, just as she’d figured they’d be. There hadn’t been enough time. She gathered them, securing the bait for another time, and tied the traps back on the sled. Her last order of business was to offer Chase some sort of protection from the elements. She stoked up the fire, then took one of the furs and a wool blanket and secured them around his body. It wasn’t much, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more. In several hours he would awaken and his fate would then rest solely in his own hands.
The dogs sensed that the journey was about to take a new turn as Leah adjusted their harnesses. They moaned and yipped as she rubbed their heads and spoke to them in soothing tones.
‘‘We’re almost ready, boys. Come on now, don’t fight me.’’ She pushed one of the big wheel dogs back into place as he tried to dance around her. He bumped up against the basket and yipped but finally obeyed Leah. It took only a few more tries before she finally had him strapped securely in place.
With this done, she hurried to light a lantern. It wouldn’t help much, but it would give her a sense of the path and their surroundings. Hopefully it would be enough to ward off any dangerous breaks in the trail.
Leah felt her heart racing as she rocked the sled to release it from the ground. The crusty snow gave way easily. She then released the snow hook. ‘‘Hike!’’
The dogs pulled against the weight easily. Leah circled them around the camp, her gaze resting only momentarily on the sleeping form on the ground.
It’s what he deserves, she told her guilty heart.
Chapter Twelve
The tracks head back to the west,’’ John said, coming to join Jacob and Jayce. ‘‘We were lucky the dog went lame or we’d have missed it for sure.’’
Jacob scratched the dog’s head. ‘‘Well, Brownie can’t pull anymore. He’ll have to ride.’’ The dog yipped as if to contradict this statement.
Jayce looked to John. ‘‘How far behind them are we now?’’
‘‘I think maybe just a day or so. Those trails were pretty fresh.’’
Jacob straightened. ‘‘What about villages? Did you find anything in the area?’’
John nodded. ‘‘Just north and west of here. Not far.’’
‘‘Do you think they might have seen them?’’ Brownie strained against Jacob’s hold. ‘‘Do you think Chase would have gone there?’’
John shrugged. ‘‘If the villagers were out, they might have seen them, but I don’t think Chase went there. Tracks keep going west. I don’t think it’s a trick.’’
Jacob considered the words for a moment. ‘‘Well, why don’t we go there? The dogs need to rest. We’ve been pushing them pretty hard. We can drop off Brownie, and maybe someone there will know something more. Hopefully they’ll be friendly and offer us a meal as well.’’
‘‘I don’t see the harm in it,’’ Jayce replied. ‘‘As long as it doesn’t take too much time. If John thinks we’re just hours apart, I think we need to push on as soon as possible.’’
‘‘I agree,’’ Jacob said. ‘‘I think we’ll have an easier time of it without having to worry about Brownie. We can always pick him up on the way back or even trade him for supplies. He’s a good dog and he’ll heal just fine.’’
‘‘Maybe they trade information too,’’ John said with a grin.
‘‘We should be cautious.’’ Jacob turned to lift Brownie into his basket. ‘‘I’ve heard rumors that the tribes around here are fighting amongst themselves.’’
‘‘I’m willing to take the risk,’’ Jayce said, moving to his dog team. ‘‘Let’s go.’’
Jacob tied Brownie in the basket. The poor dog was miserable and began howling up a storm as Jacob resumed his place behind the sled. The injustice of it all left Brownie miserable, but he finally settled down in the basket.
They approached the village cautiously. Heavy clouds were blocking what little sun could be had, but it was easy to see that the people were not feeling in the leastwise threatened by the appearance of Jacob and their party.
They exchanged greetings, and Jacob listened as John fired off a rapid line of questioning to the man who seemed to be in charge. The man shook his head vigorously, and John continued with additional questions.
Though the dialect seemed a little different than that of the natives of Last Chance, Jacob caught a good portion of the conversation. Apparently the man had not seen any strangers in the area, and especially not any white people. He would have remembered such a thing. Jacob and Jayce were, in fact, the first whites he’d seen since summer.
Then one of the other men spoke up. He had seen a sled moving west, and it appeared there were at least two people, but he had no idea whether they were white or not.
‘‘How long ago was this?’’ Jacob asked in the man’s tongue.
The older man smiled and replied, ‘‘Yesterday morning.’’
Jacob turned to Jayce. ‘‘That has to be them. We should give it all we have to finish the job.’’
‘‘I agree. I say we let the dogs rest a short time, then immediately put ourselves back on the trail.’’
‘‘I have to fix my sled runner,’’ John threw in. ‘‘I don’t need long.’’ He headed off toward his sled.
Jacob went to work seeing to the dogs. Several villagers brought him hot water, and one even prepared a nice fire for him. Jacob began mixing a hot meal for the teams, but all the while his mind went back to the time he’d spent alone with Helaina while they were in Seattle. He thought of how irritating she could be— how headstrong. But at the same time he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. She had endured so much, and all she really wanted was a way to fill the emptiness left by the tragedies of life.
If she could only come to terms with the fact that God loves her, that she needs Him. But of course that would take time . . . and maybe seeing it with her own eyes, instead of hearing stories about it. Jacob had known many people who were that way. They could hear people’s stories all day long, but until something actually happened to them personally, it just didn’t make any sense. He figured Helaina would be that way.
As the wind picked up and the temperature grew colder, Jacob wondered if Helaina and Leah were warm enough. Leah knew about this land and had no doubt dressed appropriately. Ayoona had mentioned that Leah had packed the sled, so Jacob felt confident she would have taken ample supplies. But Helaina knew very little of the far north.
With the dogs fed and resting, Jacob noticed John was finishing up with his sled runner. John had been more than a brother to him, offering to take time away from the village and his own family in order to find Leah. So much time had passed, however, that Jacob felt he needed to release John from any obligation.
‘‘You need help?’’ Jacob questioned as he came to where John sat working.
‘‘No. It’s not too bad. I got it fixed now.’’
Jacob looked around for some of the other natives. ‘‘John, I think it’s time for you to head back. We’ve been gone a lot longer than you’d planned.’’
John’s round brown face took on an expression that suggested he was considering the comment. ‘‘No. I won’t go,’’ he finally said.
‘‘But you have a lot of people depending on you.’’
‘‘They got others to depend on too. We had great hunting this summer
and the salmon were good. We dried a lot of fish. Leah only has you and her husband . . . and us. We stay and help you.’’
Jacob knew the act came as a sacrifice, no matter what John said. He was deeply touched. ‘‘You’re a good friend, John. I won’t forget this.’’
John looked at him and nodded. ‘‘In Alaska you don’t forget.’’
Leah sensed the dogs’ excitement. Something was urging them on. They had picked up the scent of another animal—perhaps a hare or fox. She held fast to the sled, working her best to slow and direct them. She felt their anxiousness. They were headed home—they were free. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and Chase as was possible, but she knew the dogs were her lifeline. She couldn’t let them wear themselves out.
‘‘Whoa, Marty!’’ She felt the pace slow. Then without warning the dogs picked up speed again. They began to bark and fuss as they raced across the snow.
Leah feared she might lose control of the animals and decided to show them who was boss. Her muscles were weary of the work as she fought to manage the sled and team. ‘‘Whoa, Marty! Whoa!’’ She stepped down on the brake hard.
Again Marty heard her command and lessened the pace. This was all Leah needed. They were good dogs, generally as eager to please as to have their own way. Putting her full weight on the brake, the team slowed and finally stopped at Leah’s insistence.
Leah anchored the sled and stretched her aching shoulders. She tried to calculate the time. Heavy clouds were making the day gloomy and nearly as dark as evening. It seemed they had been traveling for at least four hours since their last stop. Leah could always tell because of the way the middle of her back began to hurt after that amount of time on a sled.
[Alaskan Quest 02] - Under the Northern Lights Page 11
