She fought back her light-headedness to get to her feet. “Come here. I have someone you must meet.”
Peter stood with her and went to the bed. “This is our son, Andrew. He’s very sick and I don’t know what the future holds in store for him. He was born last January here in Dawson.”
“I know,” Peter said, reaching out to touch their son. “Karen has told me all about him. He’s beautiful, Grace. Thank you.”
“The doctor isn’t certain what’s wrong. He fears it might be pneumonia or bronchitis. He says horrible things like, ‘Such diseases are just stepping-stones to consumption.’ Imagine telling a mother that her child might well develop consumption. It seems most cruel.”
“I’m sure he’s not trying to be unreasonably macabre. Perhaps he’s merely a realist. Maybe he just doesn’t want you to have false hope. Maybe he doesn’t know our hope is founded in God, and therefore is never false.”
“I thought he might … might die … without you ever getting to see him,” Grace said, stumbling on her words.
“He’s a Colton. He’s strong.” Peter turned her in his arms. “But even if he isn’t strong enough, God is. Oh, Grace, I see that now. I despaired during my search for you, feeling that maybe God was punishing me. For so long I believed you dead—your mother believes it, too.”
“Oh, poor Mama!” Grace said, putting her hand to her mouth. The awfulness of the truth was settling in on her.
“We’ll get a letter off to her as soon as we can,” Peter promised. “There’s so much more you don’t know. Things that I must say, that you must know.”
“What could possibly matter in light of all that you’ve already told me?”
Peter’s expression grew very serious. “Paxton is dead. He’s no longer a threat to us. He tried to make me believe you wanted a divorce. He knew things about our last fight that convinced me of his knowledge. But on the other hand, a part of me knew you would never give yourself over to him.”
“He promised to return your company if I did,” Grace said, shaking her head. The memory seemed as if it had taken place a million years ago.
“When I headed back to San Francisco after he told me you were dead, I found him on the same ship. There was an explosion and the ship went down. Paxton tried to leave me stranded on board, but instead, he was killed.”
“Oh, the whole thing sounds just awful. Were you hurt?”
“Yes, but I healed eventually. Now Colton Shipping has been returned to the Coltons, and there is one more aspect of this story that you must know. You are a wealthy woman.”
“What?” Grace could hardly believe she had understood him correctly. “For a moment I thought you said I was wealthy.”
“I did,” Peter said, reaching out to touch her face. “Your father protected most of his holdings by shifting everything into a trust for you. Paxton didn’t find this out until your father was nearly bankrupt. When he realized he had been duped, he continued to threaten your father—promising to tell your mother and you about the affair. It’s the reason Paxton suddenly showed up as your betrothed.
“When you ran away, your mother learned the truth, and Paxton was further frustrated to realize that she didn’t care. She loved your father and stood by him, putting the past behind her. Realizing he’d been further thwarted, Paxton decided that the only way to get what he wanted was to go after you and force the marriage. He had documents forged to falsely proclaim his guardianship over you, then headed to Alaska once he knew where you were.”
“It all makes sense now,” Grace said. “But why didn’t he follow me up here, if it was that important to him?”
“At first, he had no clue as to where you had gone. Then when he knew for sure you’d gone north, my guess is he was torn between whether to follow you himself or send someone after you. He was making a great deal of money in Skagway, plus he had Colton Shipping to think about. When the message came that you’d been killed, Paxton finally realized there was no hope of attaining what he’d worked so long and hard to have.”
“That must have just about killed him,” Grace said, glad that Paxton would have known the taste of defeat because of her. The man had been her family’s undoing, and it made her feel better to know that he had been defeated.
“I’m glad he’s dead,” she said without thinking. “God forgive me if that is wrong, but the man was so horrible to me—to my loved ones. I feared that he’d find out about Andy and try to steal him away. I worried that he’d come here to Dawson and threaten our lives. I forgive him—I honestly do—but I’m glad it’s over. I’ve had very little peace because of that man.”
“You’ve had very little peace because of me as well, but I hope to remedy that. I’m not that same man, Grace. God has broken me, and I’m much better for it.”
Grace wrapped her arms around Peter. “I love you so very much. I couldn’t bear to lose you—again.”
“You’ll never lose me, darling,” he whispered against her ear. “Never.”
Just then Andy’s faint cry could be heard. Grace nearly pushed Peter away at the sound. “Listen!”
She looked at her son and found his eyes open. His fussing was like music to her ears. Reaching out, Grace touched his forehead. The fever had broken—his skin was cool to her touch.
“Oh, Peter, he’s better. This is the first time he’s rallied since taking ill. Oh, thank you, God!”
Peter reached down to touch Andy’s cheek. The baby began to cry a little harder at the appearance of this stranger. Grace quickly lifted her son, holding him tenderly to her breast. Andy immediately began rooting—seeming suddenly eager to nurse.
“I’d say he’s hungry.” Peter touched his head. “That must be a good sign.”
“I’m sure it is. Oh, I’m sure it is!”
“I heard a baby’s cry,” Karen said, coming into the room. “Was it Andy? How is he doing?”
Miranda followed Karen and stood at the door, looking stunned. Grace felt as though she were in a dream. Karen moved beside Grace and reached out to touch Andy.
“The fever’s gone,” she announced.
Grace nodded. “I can scarcely believe what God has done.” She felt the dizziness return to her head. “Would you please hold Andy for a moment? I’m feeling rather faint.”
Karen quickly took the baby, while Peter took hold of Grace. Miranda came to her side and helped her to the chair.
“I thought you were dead,” Grace whispered, tears falling anew. “I thought I’d lost my sister forever.”
“I feared the same fate might well have happened to the rest of you,” Miranda admitted. “I searched and searched but couldn’t seem to make any headway. I couldn’t find any of you. I found Crispin several months ago and he told me you were all well the last time he’d seen you. He died shortly after that, but he accepted Jesus as his Savior before he died.”
“That’s a great comfort,” Grace said, remembering Crispin’s gentle treatment of her while she labored to give birth to Andy. “I will always be fond of the man. He helped Leah deliver Andy, and for that I shall be eternally grateful. May he know peace now.”
“I’m sure he does. His countenance was quite peaceful when he passed. I wish he could have been here to see us all reunited. I’m so happy, I can scarce take it in.”
Grace embraced her sister-in-law with tears of joy, her heart overflowing with happiness. The lost was found and the prodigal had come home. The sick had been healed and the blessings of God’s abundance flowed over them all like warm summer rain. All was right with the world once again.
“But I’m telling you, I didn’t kill Gump,” Jacob protested to the police officer. “He was a good friend. I wouldn’t have done something like that. I had no reason.”
The officer seemed unimpressed. “Did you kill Mr. Lindquist for his gold?”
“No!” Jacob declared, certain that if he spoke the truth they’d release him.
“So then did you kill him because of a disagreement?”
&nb
sp; “I’m telling you, I didn’t kill him.”
The man looked at Jacob, his expression clearly betraying his disbelief in Jacob’s statement. “You say a man came to the door and shot Mr. Lindquist through the heart. After this, you wrestled the gun away from him and the man fled before anyone else could come to the scene.”
“That’s right. The man’s name is Cec Blackabee. He admitted to stealing our sled and wanted to know if we had some of his other possessions. He figured to strong-arm his way in and take them by force.”
“I see,” the Mountie replied. “Then how is it that no one else saw the man leave the cabin? Upon hearing the shots fired, your neighbors came to investigate. No one saw another man leave the scene.”
Jacob felt sickened by the events of the past few days. He had no idea how to make the truth any more clear. This man believed him to have murdered Gump. The poor old man was barely gone and they wanted to blame Jacob for the death.
“I’m telling you the truth,” Jacob said, sitting back down on a bench in his cell. “I didn’t kill Gump Lindquist. I didn’t kill anybody.”
Peter and Grace lay entwined in each other’s arms that night. Sharing his bed with Grace for the first time in over a year, Peter marveled at how very right it felt. With her brown-black hair spread out upon the pillow, her chocolatecolored eyes wide, looking at him with evident adoration, Peter had never been happier.
“I thought I’d lost you forever,” he whispered.
“I felt the same when you didn’t come for me,” Grace murmured.
“I was such a fool.” He reached out and touched her cheek, then trailed his fingers down her neck. “I can’t believe I risked letting you get away.”
“We were both wrong—immature and inconsiderate.”
“No. You were perfect,” he said, shaking his head. “You only stood up for what you believed.”
“Yes, but I belittled you at the same time,” she admitted. “Not only that, I went behind your back to accomplish my will.”
“Well, it’s behind us now. We have each other and we have a son.” Peter smiled at Grace’s contented expression. “I can scarcely believe it.”
“I know. I felt the same way for so long. When I was carrying Andy, it was like something out of a fairy tale. I couldn’t believe I would really bear a child—hold him and see him as flesh and blood.”
“The doctor sounded very confident of his recovery,” Peter whispered, pressing his lips against the hollow of her neck.
“Yes,” she half whispered, half moaned.
Peter didn’t know if she was replying to his comment or his kiss. He decided not to question it and instead turned out the light.
—[CHAPTER TWENTY SIX]—
SEPTEMBER CAME UPON Dawson with a threat of colder days to come. Miranda knew that her brother and sister-in-law were securing passage to return to California before the rivers froze and made travel a much greater risk. With Andy to think about, she knew they would take no chances.
Her heart ached at the thought of their leaving. She so enjoyed their company. Andy had regained his health, and they had taken up rooms on the floor above hers and Teddy’s. It was wonderful having family so close after so many months of not knowing where they were or even if they were still alive.
Peter had seen to it that a letter was taken out in the first available mail packet. He’d included a note from Miranda to assure their parents that all was well. Miranda told her mother about Teddy and how very much in love she was with her Englishman. Still, she longed to see her mother and father—to know they were well and that her father had recovered from his heart attack.
Peter had told her about the recovery of the shipping firm. Miranda was certain that had to have been a boost to her father’s health. He loved his ships and the sea, but most of all, he needed to know that his family was cared for.
Miranda looked at her reflection in the mirror. Brushing through her long brown hair, she couldn’t help but think how the trip and all that had happened to her had changed her. She didn’t even look like the same youthful girl she had once been. A married woman stood in her place now.
Turning to examine her figure, Miranda studied the flow of her quilted skirt. She had lost some weight, there was no denying that, but it was a pleasant sort of thing. Her waist appeared quite small, and her hips were pleasingly curved beneath the muted green-and-black print skirt. The pintucked white shirtwaist with its voluminous sleeves was another recent gift from Teddy. He loved to see her dressed up in pretty things and often spoke of the day when they would go to Europe together and he would buy her a wardrobe in Paris.
As if thinking of him had brought him to her, Teddy opened the door to their suite, wrestling a box marked FRAGILE.
“What’s that?” Miranda questioned. She put down her brush, leaving her hair down, and turned to see what the contents might be.
“It’s the shipment of herbs I ordered from England. I hope they were able to send everything.” He acted giddy, like a child at Christmas.
Miranda crossed the room and pushed back the heavy green drapes in order to let in more light for better viewing. Teddy put the box on the table and pried off the top. He reached into the straw-packed box and began pulling jars and brown paper packages from within.
“Ah,” he said, holding up a jar. “Malva moschata—musk mallow. This is a wonderful herb. It is used to reduce inflammation.” He set the jar aside and unwrapped one of the packages. “This is Pterocarpus santalinus or red sandalwood—for treating fevers, inflammation, even scorpion stings. It comes to us all the way from India.”
“How fascinating,” Miranda said, catching Teddy’s excitement. “What else is in there?”
Teddy pulled out another bottle. Miranda could read the label for herself. “Mandragora officinarum.”
Teddy nodded. “Mandrake. Very deadly if not used in the correct proportions. But very effective as an anesthetic for surgery if used properly. You can put a person to sleep quite effectively with this, but it must be handled correctly.”
“How wonderful that God gave us so many needful things in the form of wild flowers and other vegetation. These herbs will be so very beneficial to the doctors up here.”
“That is the idea. One doctor told me how hard it was to get shipments on a regular basis. I offered to see what I could do, and here we are. I say, not a bad catch.”
Miranda laughed. “I should say not.”
Teddy finished arranging the bottles and packages on the table, then set the crate aside. “I’ll package up some of these and have you take them over to the hospital.”
Miranda smiled. He was such a generous man. He had so much to offer and plenty of material wealth to share. Teddy Davenport was, in her estimation, a rare and wonderful find in a world of selfishness, greed, and ambition.
“What are you smiling at?” Teddy questioned as he looked up and caught her expression.
“I was just thinking nice thoughts about you, that’s all.”
He cocked his head to one side and raised a brow. “Oh, and what might those thoughts include?”
“I was thinking of how generous you are—what a wonderful giving man you are, and how so many people have benefited from your kindness.”
“I’m doing no less than most would if they had the means.”
“You and I both know that isn’t true,” Miranda replied. “This place is full of people who have gold dust a plenty, so much that it dusts their hair and sticks under their nails. They don’t care about anyone but themselves. They think only of the gold.”
Teddy pulled on his glasses and shrugged. “I suppose you are correct. There is a sickness among many of the souls here. Gambling and drinking thrive as the men seek to lose themselves and their past. Greed causes a man to do things he might never consider otherwise.”
“I know that well enough.” Miranda took a seat at the table and adjusted her quilted skirt. She was grateful for the warmth as September had turned cold and rainy. Today the su
n had dawned bright and the skies were clear, but there was a taste of rain in the air, and Miranda knew that by evening they very well might be forced to endure yet another damp night.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. We’re having dinner with your brother and sister-in-law this evening. Karen has agreed to keep the baby, so it will be just the four of us.”
“I thought Adrik had said they had to return to the claim. He is upset they’ve already stayed so long in Dawson. If it weren’t for those two sick sled dogs, I know they would have headed back to the claim the moment Andy recovered.”
“Yes, Karen said he was quite upset at the delay of time. Apparently Mr. Lindquist desires to leave the Yukon and will need to pack out his things and reach Dawson in time to catch a steamer south.” He continued looking over his herbs as he spoke. “I believe they plan to leave in the morning. They hope to reach the claim in a couple of days.”
“Have they decided what they’re going to do? I mean, are they staying through the winter?” Miranda asked hopefully.
“I don’t believe so. When I spoke to Adrik he implied that they might be on the same steamer Mr. Lindquist would take south. Apparently there is some thought of their returning to Dyea. It seems Adrik has some distant relationship to the Tlingit Indians.”
“Well, I shall be sorry to see them go,” Miranda admitted. She tried to keep the worry from her voice, but in truth, she couldn’t help but wonder how life would be once her friends returned to their various homes.
She lifted her face and found Teddy studying her. “Do you regret marrying me?” he asked.
The question completely stunned her. “Not at all. Why would you ever ask such a thing?”
He put down the bottle he’d been toying with and came to where she was sitting. Kneeling beside her, Teddy took hold of her hand. “I’m quite capable of dealing with the truth. If you are having regrets, I believe we should discuss it.”
“My regrets have nothing to do with you,” Miranda said, reaching out with her free hand. She gently touched Teddy’s cheek. “I love you. I’m very happy to be your wife.”
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