Where Heaven Begins

by Rosanne Bittner

  She continued her struggle to keep the raft on its course in the surprisingly strong current that wanted to send it right and left and sometimes seemed to want to make it whirl in a circle. Only now did she realize how hard it must have been for Clint to do this in his condition.

  She shivered against the stinging cold, dreaming about the warmth of a fireplace and a real bed, hot food and hot coffee, or better yet, hot chocolate. Her mother used to make the most wonderful hot chocolate.

  Through darkness she kept going, and indeed, God led the way with a brightly lit sky that made it possible to see what was ahead of her. Where she found the strength, how she managed to keep going all night long, she could not explain, other than to say that God surely had His hand on the rudder handle or was pushing the raft along with His own hand.

  At dawn the raft rounded a bend and she spied smoke rising from a few chimneys.

  Dawson!

  “Clint! We’re here! We’re here!” She nearly screamed the words. “It’s Dawson! We made it!” Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you!”

  She left the rudder handle long enough to kneel beside Clint. “Clint, we’re here! You’ll be all right!”

  His eyes were closed. He gave no reply. Elizabeth realized then that for the last few hours he’d not reached for the canteen, nor had he even coughed. The only sign that he was still alive was the warmth of his fevered face.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  O, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth forever.

  —Psalms 107:1

  Elizabeth steered the raft toward the only open spot she could find along Dawson’s shore, which was packed with boats both large and small. Most of them appeared to be abandoned, most likely by men who no longer cared about the vessels that had brought them here. Many must already be headed into the mountains, in spite of the dire winter that lay waiting for them there.

  Still, a good many settlers were right here in Dawson, from what she could see. The little town lay sprawled over several acres and was made up mostly of tents and log buildings. Horses were tied or grazing here and there, poor bony steeds, like Devil, that had managed to actually survive the trip up here.

  Plenty of snow covered the ground, but she could see one street ahead that was churned into pure mud from so much use. She took a moment to look for some kind of steeple, but she saw nothing to indicate a church. Still, what there was of Peter’s church was probably no more than a log building like the rest that were here.

  “Dear Jesus, please let me find Peter,” she prayed quietly.

  She realized that until she did, she would have to guard what was left of their supplies and especially guard Devil. She didn’t want Clint to lose the last and best of his horses. Most important, she had to find someplace warm and dry for Clint and start nursing him back to health, if it wasn’t already too late to save him.

  She searched her brain, trying to determine how she would get Clint, Devil and their supplies into town so she could find Peter. If she could get Clint onto Devil, maybe she could somehow drag their supplies, but she needed something to put them on. Then again, Clint would never be able to climb up onto Devil. She’d pack the supplies on the horse and figure out a different way to get Clint to help.

  She felt ready to collapse herself, and her arms and shoulders screamed with pain from handling the raft’s rudder for nearly three days by herself. Instinct told her to first look for Clint’s handgun, hoping God would understand she actually might need to shoot anyone who tried to take anything from her or keep her from getting help for Clint.

  “I’m so sorry for such un-Christian notions, Lord, but what else can I do?” She looked around frantically, spotting what looked like an abandoned dog sled. “Thank you, Jesus!”

  She ran to retrieve the sled, dragging it back to where she’d tied the raft. The sled surely belonged to someone, but if the owner tried to make her give it back, he’d face a six-gun until she got Clint to help! Then he could have his sled back.

  She saddled Devil, grimacing with the pain in her shoulders and arms. She then untied their supplies and loaded them onto the horse, reserving softer things like blankets and sleeping bags for the sled. Those things could be used to make a bed for Clint.

  Relieved that so far no one came running to claim the sled, she tied all supplies as best she could, having learned from watching Clint. God only knew how long she would have to drag things around town before she found Peter, so everything had to be secure. She wanted to cry from the pain in her shoulders as she worked frantically, and reason told her she’d never be able to lift or help Clint from the raft to the sled. Maybe she could get him to stand up and walk by himself.

  Too much time was passing. More men arrived. Some glanced her way, then went on about their business. No one offered to help. It reminded her of the parable in the Bible wherein a wounded man lay robbed and beaten at the side of the road, ignored by priests and others of his own race, until a Samaritan, a natural enemy, came by and helped him.

  Finally everything was tied onto the sled. So far no one had come to claim it. She hurried back to Clint, kneeling beside him. “Clint! Clint, we’re here! Please, please try to get up! I found a sled and I packed our supplies on it and tied it to Devil. I can go find us someplace warm and dry now. You’ve got to get off this raft!”

  He groaned.

  “Clint! Please help me help you. I can’t get you up by myself.”

  His eyes opened to slits of red. She shivered at the sight of him, fevered, bearded, scabbed cuts on his cheek. Was he dying after all?

  “Please, Clint! I can’t lose you now! We’ll find Peter and get you well first.”

  He just stared at her for a moment, then slowly turned and got to his knees. He tried to stand, using her for support, but he collapsed again. “Can’t…breathe,” he answered, before a fit of ugly coughing terrified her.

  Elizabeth looked around to see another boat arrive with four men in it. “Help!” she yelled to them. “Please help me get this man onto our sled! He’s sick!”

  They looked her way, a couple of them shaking their heads.

  “Hey, it’s a woman!” another yelled.

  “Well, I’ll be. She purty?”

  “Can’t tell. She’s wearin’ pants!”

  They all laughed.

  Feeling desperate, Elizabeth pulled Clint’s six-gun from her belt and aimed it in their direction, firing it once.

  All four men sobered and jumped away as the bullet pinged into their boat.

  “Hey, lady, what do you think you’re doin’!” one shouted.

  “I need help!” she screamed. “I’ve asked dozens of men for help the last two days, and you’re all so bent on finding gold you can’t take three minutes to help a man who might be dying! Please get over here and help me, you ungrateful, un-Christian creatures, or I swear I’ll shoot all of you!”

  She used both hands to point the six-gun, surprised at her own words, knowing she would never back them but hoping these men believed she would.

  The men looked at each other and mumbled something back and forth. “Come on,” one of them finally said.

  “What do you want, lady?” another said as they drew closer.

  Elizabeth stepped off the raft and backed away. “All I need is for you to pick up my husband and put him on this sled and secure him so he can’t fall off. That’s all! You can be on your way after that.”

  The man shrugged. “Well, considerin’ you’ve got a gun pointed at us, I guess we’ll oblige you,” the man answered.

  They all grinned and chuckled as they stepped onto the raft and managed to pick up Clint. It took all four of them to do it because of his size. They watched Elizabeth warily but with obvious humor as they laid Clint onto the sled and secured him, then stepped back. All the while Elizabeth continued to hold the gun on them.

  “That good enough?” one of them asked.

  Elizabeth took a quick look. “That looks
fine.” She slowly lowered the gun. “Now, you can go on about your business. Jesus Christ will bless you for helping me, even though it was at gunpoint. And if I were you, gentlemen, I would think about what is more important in life—gold, or doing the Christian thing for another human being.”

  A couple of them frowned and shook their heads, while the other two appeared rather sheepish and guilty.

  “Yes, ma’am,” one of them told her.

  The four of them turned away and returned to their business, and Elizabeth put the six-gun back into her belt, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making me shoot them,” she prayed softly. She hurried over to Clint and leaned close. “You’ll be all right, Clint. Just a little farther to help now.”

  To her surprise he opened his eyes and looked at her with a soft grin. “You…did good…six-gun Lizzy.”

  She smiled through tears. It was the most he’d said in nearly two days, and it meant he was more lucid and hadn’t lost his sense of humor. It was a good sign! “I love you,” she told him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

  She walked up to Devil and patted the horse’s neck. “Okay, boy, see if you can pull your master into town. And don’t get feisty on me.”

  Devil shook his mane and whinnied, then took off at a slow walk. Elizabeth was not about to try to make the horse go any faster, sensing this was the best the poor, starved animal could do, and wary of doing anything that might make him rear.

  “I’ll get you to a stable and get you some real good hay and oats and a much-deserved rest, Devil. I promise. We just have to find help for Clint first.”

  She headed into town, such as it was, Devil’s hooves and her own boots splashing through muck and mud, dragging the sled through puddles and slime, across more snow, a patch of ice, more mud, passing saloon after saloon, from whence came the sounds of laughter of both men and women and jolly piano-playing.

  They passed several supply stores, a livery, restaurants, nearly all establishments nothing more than tents. Then came a hotel of sorts, made of logs, numerous log houses and more tents used for private living, it appeared, two land offices and three different log buildings that bore signs on the front reading Claims. From not far away came the sounds of a sawmill, and up in the mountains came the occasional rumble of an explosion, dynamite, most likely, as men blew away pieces of mountain to find veins of gold.

  She passed yet another saloon, astonished that men could drink so much that in such a little town there would be a need for so many such establishments. Yes, Peter’s work was definitely needed in a place like this.

  A painted woman came out of the closest saloon, not bothering to cover her bared shoulders and the whites of her breasts against the cold. Elizabeth glanced at her and then kept going.

  “Hey!” the woman called out. “Stop!”

  Curious, Elizabeth halted Devil and looked at her again.

  “Elizabeth?” the woman asked, coming closer.

  Elizabeth felt a wave of incredible relief. “Collette!”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Praise ye the Lord. I will praise the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, and in the congregation. The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.

  —Psalms 111:1 & 2

  Elizabeth literally ran to Collette and hugged her.

  “Collette! When did you get here? Oh, I’m so happy to see someone I know!” Was she actually hugging a prostitute as though she was her best friend? What was happening to her? She pulled away, and a couple of men who’d been standing outside the saloon walked closer.

  “Hey, Collette, who’s this little beauty?”

  “Get out of here!” Collette ordered. “Go inside and have a drink on me. This is a proper, Christian lady, and don’t you dare forget it!”

  The men looked Elizabeth over and left, and Collette smiled. “I don’t believe it! You actually made it!”

  Elizabeth wiped at tears of relief. “We did! I can’t believe we never ran into you.”

  “Well, I’ve been here five days.”

  “You must have left before us then. I can’t believe you were probably right ahead of us the whole time, especially since you got off the Damsel in Seattle. We got held up because of a shipwreck, and then in Skagway because Clint came down with pneumonia and almost died, and then we had so many misfortunes along the way that slowed us even more, and now Clint is terribly sick again! I’ve got to get him some help. Is there a doctor in this place? Do you know anything about a church? My brother, Peter, came here to start a church and minister to the miners. Do you know about him? Do you know where he is?”

  “Whoa, little lady!” Collette put an arm around her and they walked over to the sled. She took a close look at Clint. “You’re right, he’s bad sick.”

  Clint opened his eyes and grinned. “Collette,” he muttered.

  “It’s me, handsome.” She turned to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth realized the woman must have seen the sudden, uncontrollable jealousy in her eyes. She laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, honey, he’s never been a customer of mine.”

  Elizabeth reddened. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…we’re going to be married, Collette. It’s such a long story, and right now I’m scared he’ll die.”

  Collette put an arm around her again. “Honey, men like Clint Brady don’t die. And yes, your brother is here in Dawson. Leave it to somebody like me to find out about everybody in town the first couple days I’ve been here.” She pointed to two cabins on a hill several hundred feet ahead. “Right up there. The bigger building is his church, the smaller one his residence. He’s married, you know.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise. “What!”

  Collette nodded. “I remembered what you told us about having a brother here, so I looked him up myself soon as I got here, told him I’d seen you and that you definitely were on your way. Found out he has a wife. She’s Chinese, and she’s carrying.”

  “Chinese! Aren’t they pagans?”

  Collette shook her head. “This one is a Christian. Did you think just because someone is Chinese they can’t become Christians and can’t marry somebody like your brother?”

  Elizabeth looked toward the cabins again. “I just never thought…”

  “Never thought you’d marry a bounty hunter, either, did you? Or that a prostitute would go to church and think about changing her life?”

  Elizabeth looked back at her. “I’ve learned a lot, Collette, about people.”

  Collette smiled. “I bet you have. Why don’t you just go on up there and find your brother and get Clint some help? I have to tell you, honey, that I’ve actually been praying for you. Can you believe it? I’ll never forget what you did for me and my friends.”

  “How are they, Collette?”

  “All right, as far as I know. I got Francine and Tricia settled and decided to find me some men to travel with and went ahead and came up here. Left the very next day after I got off the Damsel.”

  Elizabeth grasped her hands. “I’m so glad you did, Collette. It’s so good to find someone I know.”

  Collette’s eyes teared as she waved Elizabeth off. “Right now you’d better get Clint to some warmth.” She pulled off Elizabeth’s woolen skull cap and let her red hair fall in tangled swirls. “Just wait till he sees you all cleaned up and wearing a dress again. He’ll stumble to the altar fast as he can get there.” She laughed and shoved the hat into Elizabeth’s hands, heading back into the saloon.

  Elizabeth thought how strange it was to be so happy to see such a woman. “Thank you for getting her here safely, Lord.” She pulled the cap back over her head and went back to Devil. “Come on, boy.” She headed up the street and on up the hill toward the two cabins Collette had pointed out to her, her heart pounding with great joy and relief. She couldn’t help urging Devil into a faster trot and then she began yelling Peter’s name as she drew closer to the cabins.

  “Peter!” she cried again. “Peter, are you
there?”

  She pulled up to a hitching post, and the cabin door opened. A man stepped out, accompanied by an obviously pregnant but very young and lovely Chinese woman.

  There he was, red hair and all! “Peter!” Elizabeth left the horse as Peter called her name in return. In the next moment she was in her brother’s arms at last!

  “Peter! Peter! Peter!” She wept.

  “Thank God!” Peter cried in return. “You made it! You really made it!”

  “Yes, and I have so much to tell you!” She pulled away, wiping at tears. “Oh, Peter, I have someone with me who needs help. He might be dying of pneumonia! We’ve got to get him inside near a fire and start warming him up. I still have some ointment a horse doctor gave me back in Skagway that might help. We have to heat it up and smear it on his chest.” She pulled at him, half dragging her brother over to where Clint lay. “His name is Clint Brady, and he’s a bounty hunter, only I think I’ve talked him out of that because we’re in love. As soon as he’s well you have to marry us. He brought me all the way here, and he saved my life so many times, and I even saved his a couple of times. Peter, it was such a long, long journey, so many dangers, but we made it through together, and—”

  “Wait! Wait!” Peter turned her, grasping her arms. “A bounty hunter?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You love him?”

  “Yes, and he loves me and we’re going to be married!”

  It was obvious Peter was having a hard time digesting everything she was telling him. “I know I’m spilling all this out too fast, Peter. Once we get Clint cleaned up and put to bed and get some hot tea or something like that into him…” She glanced over at Peter’s wife. “Oh, tea! Oh, my goodness, Chinese people know all about tea, don’t they? Does your wife have tea here? Maybe she knows of some kind of herbal tea that might help Clint.” She ran up the steps and hugged the woman. “I’m so happy Peter is married. And you’re having a baby! How wonderful!”