Out of the Ashes

by Tracie Peterson

  Twenty minutes later, the first of the riders entered the open area, and before long the entire camp was filled with complaining travelers. Why were they stuck here? Why couldn’t they just go on down to the hotel? The complaints went on and on.

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” one man piped up.

  “It doesn’t matter if you’re willing to take the risk. The town is under quarantine.” Thomas straightened his shoulders. “They have folks who are guarding the perimeter to keep others from getting sick. They’ve already had four deaths.”

  One of the women reached for her husband. “Mother is in there—what if she . . . ?”

  Most everyone gathered there had someone they cared about inside the quarantine. He understood their concern, but he had to be straightforward with them. “I don’t have any names of the . . . dead. So please don’t ask.”

  “Folks, we’re going to abide by the law.” John’s voice boomed over the camp. “If any of you want to make an issue of that, come see me privately. Right now we need to get a fire going and settle in to our assigned tasks. You men who volunteered to catch some fish—get to it. But no one. I repeat . . . no one leaves this camp. Understood?”

  While the group didn’t look happy, gradually everyone went about their duties.

  Thomas took that opportunity to go to Allan and John. “I need to speak with you both.”

  Allan and John exchanged a look. “What is it?”

  “Cassidy . . . she’s—”

  Allan went white. “She’s not dead.”

  “No.” Thomas shook his head. “But she’s been sick. The doctor thinks she’s on the mend, but I thought you should know.”

  “And the baby?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve got to go to her.” Allan turned, but John took hold of his arm.

  “Son, you can’t do that. You know you can’t. We’ll have a riot on our hands and no hope of keeping these folks on this side of the river if you do.”

  Allan looked at his father-in-law as if he’d lost his mind. “But it’s Cassidy.”

  John’s gaze never left Allan’s. “I know. I want to go just as much as you do, but we can’t. She’s in God’s hands, Allan. And she’s getting better—at least that’s what the doctor believes.”

  “But . . . what about the baby?”

  Thomas didn’t know much about such things, but he’d already figured out that it couldn’t be good.

  “We need to pray.” John ducked his head as his voice cracked. “God’s brought Cassidy and that baby this far despite her fall down the stairs, and we’ve got to trust that He’ll see her through this. No matter what, Allan, we have to keep these folks calm.”

  Thomas saw the battle raging in Allan through the expressions on his face. He knew this was probably the hardest thing the man had ever faced. Thomas knew it was hard enough just for him—how much more for a husband and father.

  30

  AUGUST 27

  The stack of fish fillets on the plate looked appetizing. Collette nodded to herself. She could eat that. Taking a fork, she pulled off a little piece to taste. “C’est vraiment bon!” It was actually good. Even better than it smelled.

  She may not have learned much about cooking from Cassidy yet, but she would have to tell her that she’d made fish. All by herself. Well, Thomas had cleaned and filleted it, but she had taken up the task of cooking it. Wouldn’t Cassidy be surprised? Tears sprang to her eyes. Thomas had told her and Jean-Michel that Cassidy was among the sick. The thought of losing her precious new friend made her heart ache. She turned back to the fish that still cooked over the fire.

  “Look at this!” Jean-Michel walked up beside her. “My little sister is cooking. I’m so impressed.” He peered into the skillet. “But is it edible?”

  She poked him and smiled. “I dare you to try it.”

  He did. “Mmm, c’est bon, Collette. It’s delicious.” He nudged her. “How did you learn to do this?”

  “Well, believe it or not, Cassidy taught me from her bed. We talked about recipes and how to do various things. I’ll admit not having a stove in her bedroom made it harder to imagine. I had to ask Thomas’s advice about cooking over the fire, but now you see I have been able to take all of that knowledge and work it together for our good.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I’m trying very hard, Jean-Michel.”

  He smiled and touched her cheek. “And you are doing very well.”

  “Has there been any word about Katherine?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t help but be afraid for her and her grandmother. Mrs. Harrison was already quite weak.”

  Something behind her caught his attention. He frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Collette gave a cursory glance over her shoulder.

  “Look over there. Who is that talking with John? He looks very familiar. . . .”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him before.” She shrugged.

  Shaking his head, he looked down. “I must be imagining things.” Jean-Michel straightened and patted her shoulder.

  “Jean-Michel.” Allan’s voice took her brother’s attention away. “I need some help over here.”

  “Duty calls.”

  Collette reached out to stop him. “Jean-Michel, I am praying for them.”

  He nodded. “Me too. For all of them.”

  Her brother hurried across the camp while Collette went back to frying the fish in her skillet. If she could master this, she could do just about anything . . . right?

  Once all the fillets were cooked, she began to bring plates around to everyone. Who cared if that was normally a job for one of the staff? She was proud of what she’d accomplished, and everyone needed to pitch in to help. Her brother had made that very clear.

  John smiled as she drew near. “Why, Miss Langelier, what have you made?”

  “Fish!”

  He laughed. “And it looks and smells marvelous. Thank you!”

  “Would our new guest like some?” Collette peered around. Where had the man gone?

  John’s eyebrows went down. “He seemed very confused. I had him lay down in a tent over there.” He pointed with his fork. “At one point, I thought for sure he was speaking French, but I could be mistaken. When he awakens, I’ll need your brother to translate just in case.”

  “Oui. I will tell him.” She moved to the next group and offered them some of the fish.

  A stocky man she’d come to know as Mr. Samples gave her a look of derision. He’d been known to complain more than anyone about the food. “Is this all there is? Just fish?”

  Collette frowned. The ungrateful man. She thought to snap at him and tell him just what she thought of his complaining, but remembered her goal to put others first. “I apologize that there isn’t more.”

  Her soft answer must have taken him off guard. The man shrugged and began to eat his piece. Perhaps soft answers truly did turn away wrath.

  For the most part, people had been grateful that they had a place to sleep and food to eat. But there were a few who had complained constantly. Collette realized in watching other people how selfish she must have sounded in the past. Hearing words from others that would have been the same things she might have said in a similar situation opened her eyes. She would double her efforts to be more considerate of others. She glanced momentarily at the sky overhead. I’m going to need a lot of help.

  After the dishes were done and everyone retired to their tents for the night, Collette stayed out on the ridge looking back toward Denali. The daylight stretched out into the night hours in this land that was so far north. Clouds floated around the very top of the High One and she enjoyed the view of the massive mountain. It was incredible.

  Tomorrow they would wait for news once again from Curry. Prayerfully the sick would be on the mend. Tomorrow, she had another opportunity to start anew. She had heard John say that God’s mercies were new every day. That gave her hope. She would seek
after God. She would focus on other people rather than herself.

  She glanced toward the heavens. “I want the heart of a servant, Lord. Show me what I must do.”

  Even though sleep eluded Collette for most of the night, she still woke up before seven. Probably because the cots they slept on in the tents were not beds they wanted to relish and relax in. They were made for the purpose of sleeping while out on expeditions. Nothing more.

  She left her tent that she shared with the other women and found there weren’t many people up and around yet. Unusual for the morning. She decided to just hunt down her brother.

  She reached the stream and found him filling three buckets.

  “I’m glad you’re up, Collette. We need your help.” Stress etched lines around his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The quarantine didn’t work. We have four people sick in the camp.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Tell me what I need to do.”

  SEPTEMBER 2

  Katherine awoke feeling better than she had in days. She opened her eyes and found Mrs. Johnson staring back at her.

  “I see you’ve decided to rejoin the living.”

  “Yes. I have to say I feel much better.”

  “Thankfully you only had a mild case. Dr. Reilly said you should be fit as a fiddle in a day or two.”

  Katherine sat up on the cot. “How’s Cassidy?”

  “I’m doing just fine.” Her friend’s voice floated over from the bed.

  The older woman grinned. “You just can’t keep a stubborn woman down.”

  “It’s a good thing we three have that going for us, then.” Cassidy laughed.

  “Has there been any word on the rest of the town?” It was taking a while for the fog to lift from Katherine’s mind. How long had she been sick?

  Mrs. Johnson nodded. “There have been a total of six deaths, but no new cases. The doctor is thinking he just might be able to take us out of quarantine soon. Won’t that be a relief for everyone! Many of the guests want to take the first train out of here. I can’t say as I blame them.”

  “It’s a terrible thing to endure such sickness, but especially when you’re far from home.” Katherine stretched and reached for her robe. “Have you had any word from my grandmother?”

  “A note came earlier.” Mrs. Johnson fished the note out of her apron pocket. “Here you are.”

  Katherine opened the folded piece of paper. “She’s praying for all of us and tells us to keep our spirits up.”

  Cassidy shifted.

  Mrs. Johnson went to her immediately. “I told you I would help when you wanted to move.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just had this nagging ache in my back all morning. I promise you this—once I’m able to get up on my feet, I may never get back into a bed again.”

  Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “Katherine, would you hand me one of those pillows at the foot of the bed?”

  “Certainly.” Katherine reached across the narrow path between her cot and the bed and took one of the pillows in hand. “Here you are.”

  Mrs. Johnson twisted around, keeping one hand on Cassidy’s back. She took the pillow and plopped it down behind the young woman. “There, that should help.”

  Cassidy nodded and eased back. “I’m glad the doctor said I could have some toast today. I’m starving.”

  “Well, after days of not eating, while your babe went on feeding from your body, I’m sure you are starving.” Mrs. Johnson reclaimed her seat. “Now that the two of you are back on your feet—well, as much as you can be—I’m going to get back to my work in the kitchen, while Mr. Ferguson lies around in bed. Just when I get used to having his help, he decides to get sick.”

  “I doubt he became ill just to irritate you further, Mrs. Johnson.” Cassidy smiled.

  “Listen to you—sassing me after all the time I’ve sat here fretting over you.” Mrs. Johnson pointed her finger at Cassidy. “You’re as bad as he is.”

  “Maybe Daniel and I shall team up.” Cassidy giggled and stretched her arms over her head. “This is misery. I just can’t get comfortable.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she clutched her stomach. “Ow!”

  Katherine gasped as Mrs. Johnson jumped to her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” The older woman put a hand on Cassidy’s forehead.

  “I think . . . my water just broke.”

  31

  SEPTEMBER 5

  The quarantine’s been lifted!” Thomas raised the paper over his head and ran from the bridge to the camp.

  As the days had passed and they’d received word of people healing from the sickness, many in the camp had taken to walking down to the river each day as Thomas checked for messages.

  “The quarantine’s lifted!” the young man shouted again.

  Cheers were heard throughout their group and folks started for the bridge.

  Jean-Michel was as eager as the rest to cross and learn how Katherine and her grandmother were faring, but he wanted to do what he could to help John and Allan break camp and clean up. Thankfully, Collette was of the same mind.

  “We’ll stay here and help Thomas get everything packed and down to the river,” Jean-Michel told Allan and John. “That way you can go on to the hotel with the others. I know you’re anxious to see Cassidy and find out how she’s doing.”

  Both men had a look of exhausted relief on their faces.

  “Thank you, Jean-Michel—Collette.” John reached out to grip Allan’s shoulder. “Under any other circumstances, we would never allow it, but I doubt we could have kept him in camp much longer.”

  “Me?” Allan shook his head. “I thought I was going to have to tie you down to keep you from sneaking over in the night.”

  “And who could blame either one of you?” Collette ushered the men forward. “Now please go and give Cassidy my love—Katherine too, if you see her. Tell them we’ll be back before nightfall.”

  The two men ran and made their way to the hotel.

  Thomas smiled at Collette. “You sure you want to do this? Your brother and I can probably handle it.”

  “Non. I want to help. I’m happy to.” She began picking up the pans she’d scrubbed only a few hours earlier. “After all our time on the trail, I think I know the routine.”

  Thomas laughed and shook his head as Collette moved to the other side of the camp. “She’s sure changed her tune.”

  Jean-Michel nodded. “It hasn’t been easy for her and probably won’t be easy in the days to come, but I believe God has finally opened her eyes.”

  “He has a way of doing that,” Thomas replied. “I know He’s helped me often enough.”

  The two men began taking down the tents, and Jean-Michel thought it the perfect opportunity to ask Thomas a few questions. With the scent of wildflowers in the air, he was inspired.

  “I have something on my mind and wondered if you might be willing to answer some questions.”

  Thomas was on the other side of the tent but called back, “Sure. What can I do for you?”

  “Tell me about living here in the winter.”

  For a minute Jean-Michel wasn’t sure Thomas had heard the question, but just as he opened his mouth to repeat it, the younger man cleared his throat. “Well . . . it’s cold and there’s a lot of snow.”

  “I figured that much. What about the dark?”

  “That’s something people get wrong. Way up north it stays dark for months in the winter, but here we always get at least five hours of daylight. Of course, a lot of the time that’s a cloudy, snowy daylight. But that’s better than none.”

  “It doesn’t stay dark for twenty-four hours?”

  “No.”

  They finished with one tent and moved to another. Collette worked in tandem with them, packing up the smaller items as they tackled the larger ones. Jean-Michel smiled to himself. She didn’t even have to be told. Would wonders never cease?

  “Why all the interest in living here in the winter? You thinking of stayi
ng?”

  “Oui. I am, truth be told.”

  Thomas straightened and looked at him. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. As long as you remember that life up here is all about preparation for any possible problem.”

  “Wise advice.”

  “What would you do? Just stay in the hotel?”

  “Non. I have plenty of finances to start my own business.”

  “Well, the town has been growing. John or Allan could probably tell you what’s needed the most.” Thomas stopped and his brow furrowed. “But what about your sister?”

  “I don’t know.” Jean-Michel looked across the campsite to where Collette was wrestling with a cot. “I don’t even know if Katherine would be of a mind to stay, and I certainly wouldn’t want to plan a life without her. I just know that there’s something about this place that is healing. I felt that even before John prayed with me and I found my sense of who God is and how I needed Him. This last week has done so much to strengthen me physically and spiritually that I find the idea of leaving to be unthinkable.”

  Thomas nodded. “Alaska has a way of doing that. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  Jean-Michel sighed and looked at the vast and glorious wilderness around him. “Neither can I.”

  “This is my home and I want no other.” Thomas bent down to pull up a stake.

  “I want it for my home as well.” Jean-Michel sighed and went back to work. He could only hope that Collette and Katherine would feel as he did.

  “That’s wonderful. We would love to add you to our Curry family.” The young man stood and put his hands on his hips. As he looked around the camp, his expression turned grim.

  “Is anything the matter, Thomas?”

  “Where’s PJ? He was still abed last I saw him.”

  “Qui? Excuse me, who is PJ?”

  “I don’t really know who he is. Remember the man who showed up all disheveled and he was sick?”

  Recognition struck Jean-Michel. The man who’d looked so familiar. A flash from the war went through his mind. Non. It couldn’t be. Could it?