Ashes and Ice

by Tracie Peterson

  Peter shook his head. “I’m not leaving Skagway until I see Grace. You’d better tell her.” He forced himself to leave before he released his pent-up anger on Paxton. Opening the door, Peter dared to look up. Paxton was actually smiling. “I’ll check back tomorrow. She’d better be here.”

  Paxton circled his desk and reseated himself as Peter Colton exited his office. “If I had the power to bring her here, she’d be here already,” he muttered. He threw open his top desk drawer and pulled out two folded sheets of paper.

  One was clearly addressed to Peter Colton. The other was a hastily scribbled request to send a telegram to Wyoming.

  At first Paxton had found it amusing that Grace had fallen for the biggest scam in Skagway. There was no telegraph to the lower territories and states. Soapy Smith had made money hand over fist with that little gem. Too bad the man had gotten himself killed in a gunfight only days before. As irritating as Smith could be, Paxton had figured one day he would buy the man over to his side of the fence. Together they could have ruled Skagway and Dyea and controlled the commerce and people coming in and out of the north. But instead, Smith had been too threatening—too greedy. And the people had risen against him.

  Paxton got up from his desk and headed over to the castiron stove. Poking up the fire, he took one last look at the words Grace had penned to her mother. Words that never reached the woman, but were instead answered at no small expense, with Paxton’s own suggested content. He tossed the paper into the stove and smiled as the corners curled and caught fire.

  Then he looked at the letter Grace had left at the Hotel Alaska for Peter. He hadn’t known of the letter until just the week before. After Grace had disappeared from Dyea, Paxton had set out once again to find her. Quizzing the hotel manager at the Hotel Alaska had been difficult, for the man had taken ill and his nephew had been put in charge. Finally, however, the manager regained his health and had returned to take charge of his business. At that, Paxton’s men had quizzed him about Grace. He admitted to knowing nothing of her whereabouts but added that he held a letter for her husband, Peter Colton.

  Paxton had the letter in his possession before the end of the day, and with it he found all the answers he needed. She’d gone north. North to Dawson City. Once again she’d fled his hold. He’d thought to keep her in Skagway, or Dyea at least, and he’d paid a good sum of money to see that no captain would give her passage on any ship heading south. But Grace had outwitted him once again, and for that Martin burned in anger, just as the letter burned when he cast it inside the stove.

  “Colton will never know the truth,” Paxton said as he slammed the door shut on the stove. “But with a little incentive and a great deal of money, perhaps the man can be persuaded by a lie.”

  —[CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE]—

  ADRIK WASN’T AT ALL SURE he should have given in to the idea of building a boat in Lindeman. He wasn’t prepared for the high cost of materials and the shortage of good lumber. He also wasn’t prepared to hear about the One Mile River and the rapids that connected Lake Lindeman to Lake Bennett.

  Still, he had to face the truth of the situation. They needed transportation north, and they could either pay for freighting in someone else’s boat or take a chance on their own. Coming from seafaring people, Adrik didn’t question his ability to build a decent craft. He listened intently to the advice given him by other builders and added it to his own knowledge, designing a boat that would be ideally suited to the strenuous travel they would encounter. Still, he wished he might have considered other options.

  Supplies were scarce, and the available lumber was green and spongy. Not the kind of thing you wanted for building a ship. Green wood would shrink and lead to disaster on the trip. Many people were waiting to build boats in Bennett, and while that had been Adrik’s original plan, he counted it as the divine providence of God that he’d changed his mind. Bennett was quite overcome with dysentery and typhoid fever. And while one police officer told him things were looking better, Adrik didn’t want to take a chance. Those were two problems he didn’t care to take on. Sickness and scarcity of goods were enough to discourage and send many a man packing. But apparently it wasn’t as daunting to the women in Adrik’s party.

  The women wanted to press on and did everything within their means to see that it happened quickly. September would soon be upon them, and their options were quickly narrowing. With God smiling favorably upon them, it would take four weeks to reach Dawson by water. Yet in that time, the Yukon could freeze up solid and be hit with ten feet of snow. Adrik didn’t like thinking about the odds.

  These thoughts fouled his mood, causing even Crispin to avoid him. Karen generally eyed him from afar, saying nothing—for once. He knew she had troubles of her own. She continued to fret over Jacob’s whereabouts. Leah had taken a cold, causing the child to be greatly discouraged and saddened. Between her mood and his, Adrik had no doubt Karen was feeling rather overwhelmed.

  “So are you still planning for us to leave tomorrow?”

  He hadn’t heard Karen come up behind him. He turned and smiled, determined to prove to her that all was well. “That’s the plan.”

  She studied him for a moment. Her red-gold hair, now lightened considerably by the long hours spent in the sun, blew wisps around her face. Her eyes, so intent on under- standing his mood, were exceptionally blue. He wanted to reach out—to touch her. He wanted to beg her to marry him and put an end to his loneliness. But now wasn’t the time.

  “I thought we were friends,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Adrik hadn’t expected this and was taken aback for a moment. “What?”

  Karen crossed her arms. “You heard me. Furthermore, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been nothing but a bear all week. You’ve grunted around here, barely talking to anyone. Your mood has sent the entire camp into a spell of depression, and I want to know why.”

  “I have a lot on my mind. Getting this party north is a big enough task to weigh heavily on anyone. It’s already the middle of August.”

  “So?” She refused to back down, and her expression caused Adrik to actually smile.

  “So . . . winter isn’t that far off. There are signs that it just may come early. And if you’ll remember, it gets kind of cold up here. And when that happens, the water freezes and the snow falls and makes living a little more uncomfortable—and transportation a great deal more difficult.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Isn’t that enough? The odds are no longer with us.”

  Karen shook her head. “I’ve never known you to be overly worried about the odds. No, this is something more.”

  Adrik turned away from her and picked up his hammer. He wasn’t ready to tell her how he felt. How loving her was tearing him apart inside because he didn’t know if she could ever love him enough to share her life with him. He began to pound a nail into the piece he’d been working on all morning, but just as he raised his hammer, Karen took hold of his hand.

  She didn’t say a word, and finally he had to look at her. Her expression softened as his eyes met hers. “Adrik, please don’t be this way. Just tell me what’s really troubling you. I promise to be understanding and to do my best to help you figure out what we should do.”

  “Will you, now?” he said softly. He jerked away from her and put the hammer back on the table. Then turning back around, he pulled Karen into his arms. Mindless of the crowds that worked around him and the throngs of strangers who coursed right through their camp, Adrik lowered his mouth to hers for a long and leisurely kiss. She didn’t resist him. Adrik felt lost in the power of the moment. He wanted to forget that there were decisions to be made and trials to be faced. He wanted Karen, and nothing else mattered quite so much. Realizing that he had to put an end to their embrace, he abruptly ended the kiss and let her go.

  “There,” he said. “Figure out what’s to be done about that.”

  She stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. Her cheeks were red and her mo
uth was slightly open, as if to speak. Adrik knew it would be better for both of them if he simply walked away. So that was what he did.

  Miranda and Crispin had just returned from a foray into town when they came upon Adrik kissing Karen. The passion displayed in that kiss had caused Miranda no small amount of discomfort. How she had longed for someone to love her as dearly and completely as she knew Mr. Ivankov loved Karen Pierce.

  “It seems we are interrupting,” Crispin said goodnaturedly. He leaned close to whisper, “I wonder how long it will take until they both realize they are in love?”

  Miranda giggled, but Crispin’s warm breath against her ear caused a shiver of delight to run up her spine. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she replied without thinking, “but perhaps we should invest in another tent.”

  Crispin laughed out loud. “What a woman. Your thoughts could well be my own.”

  Miranda suddenly realized how inappropriate her remark sounded. “I only . . . well . . . I meant that should they marry. . . .” She gave up when she saw that her words only served to amuse Crispin all the more.

  “I knew exactly what you meant, my dear. I was thinking much the same.”

  They watched Adrik march off as if to war, while Karen stood looking after him in dumbfounded silence.

  “Ah, true love,” Crispin said, nudging Miranda. “Theirs will be a match for all eternity.”

  Miranda nodded, but the statement made her feel suddenly very empty. “I think I’d better take these eggs and see about supper.” She held up the small basket where only moments ago she had placed the two precious eggs. Paying a dollar for the two, Miranda thought they might as well have been golden eggs.

  She left Crispin and hurried to where they had set up a makeshift kitchen under a canvas awning. The awning had been stretched out between the two tents and made a nice, almost cozy living area in the evening and a wonderful kitchen in the daytime. At night Adrik would lower additional pieces of canvas from the sides and create the effect of walls. Then, by tying the canvas strips to the tents, he closed them off from the rest of the world and allowed the heat of the stove to warm both tents. At least it warmed them marginally.

  Miranda actually liked the cold weather and enjoyed the crisp feel to the air. She’d heard one man say that winter was due to come early this year, and she thought that was marvelous. She wanted to see the snow stacked ten and twenty feet deep, as Crispin had spoken of. He had traveled the world and had seen all manner of things, and it thrilled Miranda to the core of her being. How wonderful to simply travel at will and see the world and all that it had to offer.

  “Were you able to get any eggs?” Leah asked as Miranda approached.

  “I was able to buy two, and they were quite expensive,” Miranda replied. “But for one of your cakes, Leah, I know it was worth the price.”

  Leah didn’t respond with the excitement Miranda had anticipated. “They work a whole sight better than those powdered ones we brought along.”

  “You’re a good cook, Leah. You’ll have us all forgetting the cost before the end of the meal.”

  Leah merely nodded and went to work. Taking the eggs from Miranda’s basket, she cracked them into a bowl. Miranda’s heart ached for the young girl. Leah had prayed so passionately that morning, pleading with God for the safe return of her brother. Miranda couldn’t help but speak a similar prayer. They were bound in a strange way by their wayward male siblings. And until that morning, Miranda had never truly realized the connection.

  “Leah,” she said, knowing that she had to share this thought with the girl, “you and I are very much alike.”

  Leah looked up from her work and coughed lightly. “What do you mean?”

  “Our brothers,” Miranda replied.

  Leah shook her head. “I know Jacob and Peter knew each other, but I don’t see how that makes us alike.”

  Miranda moved closer and smiled. “We are both longing for our brothers to come back. Your brother has gone north, mine has gone away without any word of his whereabouts. You love your brother and I love mine. Both are important people in our lives, and both hold our hearts in a special way.”

  “I see,” Leah replied, turning her attention back to the cake.

  Miranda reached out to stop her for a moment. “I know how hard it is. I know you’re worried and that you can scarcely think of anything else. I know you wonder about your father and long to know the truth.

  “When I heard you pray this morning, I realized the words could have been from my own mouth. I long for Peter to return home, just as you need to find Jacob.”

  Leah’s eyes filled with tears. Miranda reached up to wipe away the drops as they fell onto the girl’s cheek. “My mother always said that a burden shared makes the load less heavy. I will share this burden with you if you will let me.”

  Leah wrapped her arms around Miranda’s waist. “Thank you, Miranda. Sometimes it just scares me so much. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.”

  Miranda stroked Leah’s hair and sighed. “I know. I fear sometimes that I’ll never see my brother again.” Just then Miranda looked up and saw Grace standing not five feet away. Her expression made it clear that she’d overheard a good portion of their words.

  Miranda decided to speak from her heart. “When I get very afraid, I pray that God will give me strength to endure and that He will take away my fear and help me to remember that He loves me.”

  She smiled at Grace and hoped that she would remember that long ago she had once spoken similar words to Miranda. The moment had been when Miranda had feared God might never send her a husband Peter would approve of. Her heart had been close to breaking at the thought of never knowing true love. Grace had comforted her with those very words.

  Grace nodded, as if remembering the moment herself. She slipped off between neighboring camps and disappeared from sight while Leah raised her head and offered Miranda a weak smile. “My mama always said that I should come and tell her when I was afraid. She said that God was always with us and that when we’re afraid, the Psalms said we could trust in Him.”

  “Your mother sounds like she was a very wise woman—and a very loving mother.”

  Leah drew a ragged breath and laid her head back against Miranda’s shoulder. “She was a wonderful mother. My pa was a good father, too. Even though he left us, he still loved us.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Miranda replied, her heart filled with love for the girl. How very much she would have liked to have a little sister like Leah. Perhaps that was the reason God had allowed her to come on this journey. He knew Leah would need her. Even more, God knew Miranda would need Leah.

  ————

  Adrik stood back with a great deal of pride and no small amount of reservation. The flat-bottomed scow he and Crispin had completed sat afloat in Lake Lindeman without the slightest hint of taking on water.

  “It would appear, my friend, we have built a seaworthy craft,” Crispin said joyfully.

  “It would seem that way,” Adrik replied, continuing to check every inch of the deck for some sign of a problem. Apparently the oakum and pitch caulking was holding well.

  The flat-bottomed scow was exactly what they needed to take them north to the goldfields. Adrik knew the boat would easily accommodate their passengers and tons of goods within its forty-two-foot length. What he was less convinced of was whether or not the women would have the strength to help row and pole as they passed through the rapids.

  Then, too, he’d already been warned that even with a sturdy square sail rigged to the bow mast, he’d be a fool to rely on the winds and currents alone. The doldrums, it seemed, were quite common on the still waters of the larger lakes. And when storms came up without warning, as they were wont to do, the oars would be necessary to make it to the safety of the shore. Could he and Crispin handle it alone?

  “Face it, my friend,” Crispin said, slapping Adrik’s back, “you’ve built a masterpiece. Michelangelo couldn’t have done better.�
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  “Well, I don’t know who he is,” Adrik said, blowing out a breath of relief, “but I almost wish he were here to help us sail her.”

  Crispin laughed, then surprised Adrik by waving. Turning, he saw that Crispin was bidding welcome to the women, who stood watching from shore. “So what do you think?” Crispin called out.

  “It looks awfully small,” Karen called back. “Are you sure it’s going to hold us all?”

  “It’s bigger than you think,” Adrik answered. “Just wait until tomorrow. You’ll see for yourself.”

  “It’s nothing short of a floating palace,” Crispin announced, and the ladies laughed.

  Adrik gazed heavenward and shook his head. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that, but it’s floating and that’s what counts.”

  “Well, it cost as much as a palace,” Karen called out from the shore. “Who would have ever thought pitch would cost seven dollars a pound?”

  By now a crowd had gathered to see the finished masterpiece by Adrik Ivankov. They laughed at Karen’s statement and threw out comments of their own.

  “No worse than paying a dollar a pound for nails!”

  “If you can get them!”

  “You can’t even get lumber for building, and the trees to cut are five miles away.”

  “And it helps if you know how to build with them when you get them,” another poor soul called out. At this everyone laughed, and even Adrik stopped fretting momentarily and joined the fun.

  “Well, perhaps I would do better to open a boat-building school rather than to head north to the goldfields,” he replied.

  “No doubt the money would be better,” Karen said, laughing.

  “Well, be that as it may,” Adrik said, putting his hands to his hips, “are you ladies ready to leave in the morning?”

  “I was ready to leave a week ago,” Karen answered. He watched her turn to the others. “Come on, we’ve got some packing to do. I know this captain of ours, and he’s the pushy sort. If we aren’t ready, he’ll leave without us.”