“Where would I find that place?”
The sergeant gave Peter directions and wished him well. Peter, excited and grateful for the news, hurried off to his destination without even thinking to thank the man. His long-legged strides seemed slow compared to his usual gait. Peter knew this was only his imagination. He wanted so much to know that Miranda was safe and well. The months and miles that had separated them could no longer stand between them, and Peter thrilled to know he would soon be reunited with his sister.
Coming through the opening to the tent hospital, Peter met the youthful yet haggard man who sat as guard at the door.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“I certainly hope so,” Peter replied. “I’m looking for Miranda Colton. She’s my sister and I was told I might find her here.”
“She was here earlier,” the man admitted. “I think she’s gone back to the hotel where she lives.”
Peter frowned. “Can you direct me?”
The man pointed out the way. “It’s just down the street,” he said, walking Peter to the door. “The Dawson Lucky Day Hotel. You can see it from here.”
Peter nodded and this time remembered to thank the man. He hurried down the street, feeling ever more sure of his reunion. She was really here. She was only a few hundred feet away.
Initially impressed with the elegance and grandeur of the Dawson hotel, Peter sought out the clerk, giving little regard for anything else. He was grateful to know Miranda wasn’t staying in some run-down madhouse.
“I’m looking for Miranda Colton. I was told she had a room here.”
“Yes, sir, she does.”
Peter smiled. “Wonderful. I’d like the room number.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t give that information to you. Miss Miranda is a proper lady and doesn’t receive gentlemen in her quarters unless …”
“I’m her brother. She’ll receive me,” Peter replied, his patience wearing thin.
“Mister, a lot of folks could say they were her brother, but that still doesn’t prove it.”
“Is there a problem?” a man called from the stairs.
Peter turned to spy the well-dressed, dark-haired man. “Are you the manager here?” he demanded.
“I’m the owner,” came the reply. “Thomas Davenport.”
Peter eyed Davenport suspiciously. “I’m trying to find Miranda Colton, and if one of you doesn’t start talking, I’m going to lose my temper.” He approached Davenport in what he hoped was a menacing stance. The man was only an inch or two shorter than Peter’s own six foot height, but Peter felt confident he had a good twenty or thirty pounds on the man. Muscled pounds at that.
“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to know her room number. I do not know you and it wouldn’t be prudent …”
Peter grabbed Davenport by the suit coat and slammed him up against the wall. “I’m Miranda’s brother, Peter Colton. If I don’t get some answers, I’m going to—”
“Peter!”
Peter looked over his shoulder and saw Miranda staring at him in disbelief. He slowly loosened his hold on Davenport, surprised by the changes he saw in his sister. Could a year have changed her so much? She looked so much older— wiser. Her brown hair was very simply pinned into a bun at the back of her head and her attire was just as plain and unassuming, but her countenance fairly glowed. She was radiant and lovely. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright with the joy of living.
Forgetting about Davenport, Peter rushed to Miranda and lifted her into the air. “Oh, but you’re a sight for these eyes of mine,” he declared. “It was a long and tiring journey, but here you are. I’m so blessed to find you at last.”
“Peter, it’s so wonderful to see you. How long have you been in Dawson?”
He put her back on the ground and laughed. “I just walked off the boat. I started searching for you from the moment my feet touched the shore. I’ve come to take you home. How soon can you be ready to leave?”
Miranda looked past Peter, her expression searching for something Peter couldn’t quite comprehend. He turned to the Davenport man, then back to his sister. “Well? When can you be ready to leave? I told Mother I’d have you home as soon as possible.”
“I’m not leaving, Peter.” She walked by him and went to stand with the stranger. “Peter, I’d like you to meet my husband, Thomas Davenport. Teddy to his friends.”
Peter felt as though he’d been gut punched. “Husband?”
She smiled and turned an endearing look on Teddy. “Yes, we were married on the fifth of this month. Teddy is a botanist and I’ve been helping him with his research. He’s writing a book describing and detailing the vegetation of the area.”
“I can’t believe it.” Peter felt the heat come to his face. Of all the nonsensical, crazy things for her to have done. No doubt a cold winter of isolation and loneliness had led her to make her choice.
“Oh, Peter, don’t be angry with me. I love Teddy dearly, and he’s a wonderful, godly man. You’ll come to love him as well.”
“This is madness. You can’t possibly know this man well enough to have married him.”
“Peter, if you’ll recall, you once told me you fell in love with Grace upon first setting your gaze upon her—how was it you put it?—‘angelic features’? You surely haven’t been gone so long you don’t remember how it feels to first fall in love?”
Peter winced. How could she so flippantly mention his dead wife? Didn’t she know the pain he’d suffered because of his actions? “I suppose I didn’t think of it like that,” he said, at a loss for any other way to explain his thoughts.
Miranda’s expression softened. “Please be happy for me, Peter. I’m so very content with my new life. Please don’t be angry.”
Peter saw her joy and knew he couldn’t be upset with her. His chance for true love might be gone forever, but he shouldn’t wish it away for Miranda. “I’m not angry, just surprised. I would never have imagined in a hundred years that you would meet and marry that quickly.”
Miranda laughed. “Well, neither did I. But Teddy saved my life, and I lost my heart to him.”
“Then it would seem I made this trip for naught,” Peter said, feeling suddenly dejected. The excitement of the trip north and the anticipation of finding his sister faded in light of this new discovery.
“How can you say that? What about Grace?” Miranda asked, leaving Teddy’s side. “What of your wife?”
If he hadn’t known better, Peter would have thought she was angry with him. “What of her?” Peter asked softly. His heart felt raw at the very sound of her name.
“What of her? Don’t you care about her? Why worry about me when you should be focused on finding her?”
“That’s rather impossible, don’t you think?” Peter said, feeling defensive.
“Why should it be? I’ve been searching for her, as well as the Ivankovs, since coming to Dawson. I did manage to run across one of our party, but he died in the hospital just a few days back.”
Peter felt confused by her words. “Are you suggesting that it’s possible to find Grace? What do you mean? Surely you won’t find Grace here.”
“Why not? This is where the party was headed. I expect her to be near to this vicinity, even if she’s not here in the city. Of course, thirty thousand people venturing in and out of the city makes our work that much harder, but …”
Peter shook his head. “This is madness. What are you telling me?”
Miranda looked at him oddly. “I’m saying that Grace is somewhere nearby. She’s probably no more than a day or two in any direction.”
“But that’s impossible. She was lost on Lake Laberge. We received a letter stating this from the Mounties.”
Miranda blanched. “No, Peter. I was the one who went overboard on the lake. I was lost in a storm and washed ashore. They don’t even know I’m alive, because I’ve not been able to find them to let them know. Some native people found me and took me to Teddy. He helped nurse me back to health with
the aid of a wonderful old Indian woman. As far as I know, because my friend who died just a while back told me so, the rest of the party is fine.”
Peter sat down hard on the staircase. He felt dizzy, sickeningly dizzy. “You’re saying that Grace is alive?”
Miranda came and sat down beside him. “Teddy, get him some water, please.”
Teddy went off to do as she asked while Miranda took Peter’s hand in hers. “Peter, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d believed her dead all this time.”
He shook his head back and forth, hoping to clear his vision. Tears came unbidden to his eyes. Could it really be true? Dear God, how many times have I pleaded for it to be true? Have you given me the miracle I asked for?
Teddy returned and handed Peter the glass of water. Peter drank it down without pause and handed it back to Teddy. “This is so incredible. So wonderful and awful at the same time. If only I’d known she was alive—if only I could have come sooner.”
“Peter, there’s something else you should know,” Miranda said, looking quite serious. “It’s probably going to come as quite a shock, but you must hear it from me.”
Peter felt his chest tighten. What could she possibly say that was so important in light of the news she’d already given him?
“What is it? Tell me everything.”
Miranda took a deep breath. “Not very long before I fell overboard in the storm on Lake Laberge, Grace made an announcement to our group. Peter, Grace was expecting a child.”
The news was impossible to comprehend. Peter leaned back against the stairs and stared in dumbfounded silence. A baby? Grace was to have his child? The misery he’d known— the anguish he’d endured—seemed to fall away in light of this latest declaration.
Grace was alive, and he was to be a father.
—[CHAPTER TWENTY TWO]—
“THE WAY I SEE IT,” Teddy began over breakfast, “we can put out word that Peter is here searching for Grace. As miners come in from their claims and new folks go out to find gold for themselves, we can pass the word.”
“That can only help,” Miranda agreed. “After all, it will be far easier to locate Grace if we enlist the help of the local folk.”
“What about checking with the government?” Peter questioned. “Don’t they have to keep records of who has a gold claim?”
Miranda took a sip of tea and nodded. “They do keep records, but I’ve already checked. I figured the claim would be under Ivankov. I even checked Colton, but there was only one name listed, and it was completely unrelated.”
“Since she was already expecting when we parted company in Skagway,” Peter said, “then she would have already delivered the baby. Are there no records for that? Surely she would have gone to the hospital.”
“Not in Dawson,” Miranda said. “There aren’t many facilities that cater to women, but even when they do, they cost more than you could imagine. I heard a woman say the other day that she would have to pay fifteen hundred dollars to have a baby in the hospital. I know from our earlier days on the journey north that we never had enough money for Grace to deliver in a hospital. Now, if they struck it rich upon arriving in Dawson, then perhaps. We can always ask around.”
“It was so simple to find you. Why can’t it be just as simple to find her?” Peter pushed his food around absentmindedly. Never mind that he was privileged to have some of the first fresh eggs available in Dawson since the onset of winter.
“We’ll commit it to prayer,” Miranda said. “I’ve been praying all along, but now that you’re here … well, maybe that was just what God was waiting for.”
Peter suppressed a yawn. Apologizing, he shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Teddy replied. “I can’t say that I would sleep a wink if Miranda were lost to me—no matter how temporary.”
“The thing is,” Miranda continued, “I feel almost certain the party will return to Dawson for supplies. There’s also Queen Victoria’s birthday celebration tomorrow. Not many people will miss that, even if there are more Americans in Dawson than territorial folks.”
“Do you suppose they’ll come for the celebration?” Peter asked. His tone betrayed his eagerness.
“Up here, folks can’t afford to miss out on a good party. The eating is always better, and the company breaks the tedium of the long winter. I think we should position ourselves throughout the town and spread the word,” Miranda answered.
“I say!” Teddy exclaimed. “Let’s offer a reward. I’ll put up the money. Maybe folks will be inclined to dig deep into their memory if something profitable is at stake.”
“That’s awfully generous of you. I have funds of my own—back in San Francisco. I could easily reimburse you.”
“Nonsense. I should have thought to do this earlier. Miranda has been so faithful in her search. I don’t know why it didn’t come to me before now.”
Miranda patted Peter’s forearm. “We will do what we can. One way or another, we’ll find her. I feel certain of it now that you’re here.”
Miranda didn’t expect Peter’s appearance at her door. The hour was late and she figured it to be Teddy, so she opened the door wearing her nightgown and shawl.
“Peter! What are you doing here at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I heard Teddy tell you he’d be late working with the bookkeeper, so I thought maybe we could talk for a minute.”
“Sure, come on in.”
Miranda closed the book she’d been reading and put it on a small table. She motioned to two chairs on either side of the table. “Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Peter sat quickly and looked at the book Miranda had been reading. “Botany?” He looked up at her with a quizzical expression.
Miranda grinned and took her own chair. “I figure if I’m to be a help to my husband, I need to understand his line of work. I find it all quite fascinating.”
Peter shook his head and smiled. A bit of the haggard look left him and Miranda felt encouraged. She worried about her brother. She knew he had been dealt a terrible shock and she actually feared it might wreak havoc with his mind. Men had gone crazy over things of less consequence. Peter had always prided himself on being the patriarch— even savior—of his family. She was certain this new revelation was a shock.
“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked softly.
“Grace.”
Miranda nodded. It was the first time since Peter’s arrival that they’d had a chance to be alone. Peter must have a million questions. Miranda only hoped she could offer him satisfactory answers.
“Did she hate me after I left?”
Shaking her head, Miranda tried hard to be reassuring. “No. Not once did she ever say anything that would suggest such a thing. Quite the contrary, in fact. She would often cry …” her words trailed off.
“Go on, I need to hear it all,” Peter urged. “I know the truth isn’t always pleasant.”
“She cried a great deal after you left. She wouldn’t let anyone near her know it firsthand, but we heard her crying and saw her reddened eyes.” Miranda lowered her gaze and bit her lip. She knew Peter wanted the truth, but she wanted so much to spare him the pain.
“Grace never stopped loving you,” she said finally. “She only wanted you to love her—to love God. She knew you two would be destined for misery if you didn’t find the truth of God to be valid for your life.”
“I know,” Peter replied. “She was a very wise woman.”
“She still is,” Miranda said. “You have to stop talking about her in the past tense. She’s alive. I know she is. I know we will find her, Peter. I feel very confident of this.”
“I’d like to have that confidence for myself. It just seems that this is all a very bad dream. A dream sprinkled with teasing clues that refuse to allow me to solve the puzzle.”
“I know it’s difficult. Here I’ve been fretting that you and Mother and Father believed me to be dead, and all
along you’ve been mourning the loss of your wife. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve made a mess of things,” Peter said, burying his face in his hands. “Tell me about your accident—when you were lost on the lake.”
Miranda tried to remember back to those early days. “I really don’t know what happened. I know there was a storm, but I don’t remember falling overboard. I can’t tell you much of what happened in the weeks that followed, either. I simply don’t remember.
“I do remember waking up in Teddy’s cabin. Nellie, the Indian woman who helped him, cared for me. She was so gentle. I remember she had these pudgy, calloused hands, but she was infinitely tender. It taught me a lot about not judging people by their looks.”
“How so?”
Miranda smiled and gazed at the ceiling. “I think I always looked at things—the appearance of things—and judged for myself their value. Not in a malicious manner, mind you, but rather in a way so as to determine if I was safe—if the circumstance was prudent.”
“Those are good things,” Peter said. “I wish I’d been more cautious about a great many things.”
“Sometimes we can be overly cautious. Sometimes we are afraid to live life.”
“And sometimes we’re not afraid enough.”
Just then Teddy returned from his office work. He looked to Miranda and seemed to instantly understand the situation. He motioned to the bedroom door and then to himself as if to suggest he could slip away if she needed him to. Miranda shook her head and motioned him to join them.
“Come sit with us, Teddy.”
At this Peter looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. Miranda was nearly undone by their appearance. She had always seen her brother as the strong one, the leader whose confidence was never shaken. Now, here he was, fallen from his pedestal, flesh and blood just like everyone else.
“I’m sorry. I was just leaving,” Peter said, getting to his feet.
“Don’t leave on my account,” Teddy interjected. “We’ve a holiday tomorrow, remember? We can sleep late if the noise in the town doesn’t get us up with the dawn.” He smiled, then sobered. “Seriously, if you’d like to stay, I can send for tea.”
Rivers of Gold Page 18
