[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North

by Tracie Peterson

  Patience had delivered Jacob with relative ease, but Leah had come in a more difficult fashion and the doctor had suggested that additional children would be a risk. Patience, a god-fearing woman, had told the doctor flatly that she would have as many children as God gave her to bear. Bill, on the other hand, had been far more practical about the situation. He had suggested they do their best to refrain from additional pregnancies, pleading with Patience to stay strong and remain at his side. And with some disappointment, she had agreed.

  Bill had figured them pretty much out of the woods when no other children followed Leah’s birth. After nearly twelve years, he figured Patience was strong enough to endure whatever God sent their way. Now he wasn’t so convinced.

  Her labor had started at dawn, and after fixing breakfast for the family, she had taken herself to bed and asked Bill to fetch the midwife. There was an air of excitement among the family. This new baby, although unexpected, was a blessing they were all anticipating with great joy. Patience had told them all that God had smiled down upon them for a reason and that this baby would be a great happiness to them. Bill could only hope that to be the case.

  Life was hard in the mining camps of Colorado, and Devil’s Creek camp was certainly no different. If anything, it was only worse. Bill had tried to find other accommodations closer to town, but this run-down cabin was the only thing he could afford. Patience had assured him it would be sufficient, but Bill wasn’t convinced.

  Supper passed in a tense silence. Usually Patience would ask the children about their friends and what they had spent the day doing. Then Bill would ask them about their chores and make certain the tasks of the household were complete. This time Bill had no interest in conversation, and he could see that the children felt likewise.

  By the time the clock on the mantel struck nine, Bill was nearly beside himself. There was no sense in pretending ease and assurance. The children knew he was afraid.

  ‘‘Mama says when you feel bad, you should pray,’’ Leah offered.

  ‘‘Yes. Your mama would say that.’’ Bill smiled. ‘‘That’s why we’re going to do just that. Jacob, leave off with those dishes and come on over here.’’ Bill knelt down beside his chair. Leah smoothed out the skirt of her dress and did likewise.

  Jacob lumbered over and yawned as he got on his knees. They were usually retiring by this time, yet Bill didn’t have the heart to send them to bed before the baby was born.

  Joining hands, Bill drew a deep breath, hoping it might put a tone of confidence in his voice. ‘‘Lord, we thank you for our blessings,’’ he began. ‘‘We thank you for watching over us, and we ask that you would go now to be with our dear Patience. Help her to have a safe delivery. Give health to the baby and to Patience. In Jesus’ name, amen.’’

  Leah and Jacob both looked to their father as if to question what they should do next. Bill knew they were tired. They’d all been up since four-thirty that morning. ‘‘You can go to bed if you want,’’ he finally said, ‘‘or sit here with me.’’

  ‘‘I want to wait,’’ Leah replied. ‘‘I want to see Mama and the new baby.’’

  Bill nodded. ‘‘How about you, son?’’

  Jacob shrugged. ‘‘Guess I’ll wait too.’’

  Just as they were getting up from the floor, the midwife came out from the bedroom. ‘‘I need a word with you, Bill.’’

  Bill felt his chest tighten. ‘‘Leah, help your brother finish up the dishes.’’

  ‘‘Yes, Papa.’’ She watched him with wide eyes that betrayed her fear. ‘‘Is Mama all right?’’

  ‘‘I’m sure she is. You just let me talk to Mrs. Reinhart and then I can tell you more.’’

  He followed the midwife outside. The ink-black night was illuminated by thousands of pinprick stars, and Bill knew there was no other place he’d ever been where God seemed so close.

  ‘‘I’m sorry, Bill,’’ Mrs. Reinhart began, ‘‘but Patience isn’t doing well. I’m afraid we may lose her and the baby.’’

  Bill felt as if she’d delivered a blow to his midsection. For a moment he found it impossible to breathe. Lose her? Lose the baby? Although he had known it a risk to bear another child, he couldn’t believe that God would wait twelve years to rob Bill of both the baby and his wife.

  ‘‘I don’t understand.’’

  ‘‘Baby’s caught,’’ the woman said. ‘‘Patience is just too small. The baby is caught up inside and there’s no way to get him down. I’ve tried, Bill, but without a doctor to take the baby through surgery, I’m afraid we won’t be able to save them.’’

  ‘‘Where is the doctor?’’

  ‘‘I couldn’t say. He was on the other side of the pass. I doubt we could bring him here in time, but if you want to give it a try, that will be our only hope.’’

  ‘‘No, don’t say that,’’ Bill said, shaking his head. ‘‘She can’t die.’’

  Mrs. Reinhart gently touched Bill’s shoulder. ‘‘You could send your boy for the doctor, but I don’t think you’d want to leave her now. She’s askin’ for all of you. I think she knows she’s not going to make it.’’ He heard the words, but they made no sense to him. How could this be happening? Why would God do this to him? He’d tried to live a good life. He hadn’t complained, even when the silver had dropped in price and they’d lost everything. Patience had helped him to see that God was in the details and that even in losing all their worldly wealth, they still had one another. How could he go on if he didn’t have Patience to encourage him?

  ‘‘I’ll send for the doctor,’’ he said, struggling to find some point of hope. ‘‘There has to be a chance.’’

  ‘‘You do what you think is best,’’ she replied. ‘‘But right now I think you’d better go talk to her.’’

  Bill nodded. ‘‘All right. But I don’t know what I’ll say. What can I say?’’

  They went back into the cabin only to find that the children were nowhere in sight. The bedroom door was open, and from the dimly lit room, Bill could hear Patience’s weak voice.

  ‘‘Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to,’’ she was saying.

  Bill moved to the door and could see that she had gathered her children to her side, much like a mother hen would gather her chicks.

  ‘‘Please don’t go, Mama,’’ Leah said, her tearful voice cutting Bill to the heart. They already knew. Patience was already preparing them.

  Patience opened her arms to her darlings, and Leah snuggled down beside her, putting her teary face to her mother’s breast. Bill knew she was probably comforted by the steady beat of her mother’s heart. Even Jacob, who considered himself too old for hugs and kisses, had knelt beside his mother and had now leaned across the bed to put his head in the crook of her arm.

  ‘‘Remember what Jesus said,’’ Patience whispered. She looked directly at Bill, even as she stroked the heads of her children. ‘‘He said he had to go to prepare a place for us. Remember?’’

  The children nodded, but neither spoke. Bill could see they were trying hard not to cry. He was trying hard too, but his vision was already blurred.

  ‘‘I’m going to go to the place Jesus prepared,’’ Patience said, her loving gaze never leaving Bill’s face. ‘‘I want you to remember that, just like Jesus wanted us to remember it. I want to see you again in heaven, and there’s only one way to get there. You must give your heart to Jesus and continue to live by what the Bible tells you. Will you do that for me?’’

  Leah lifted her head. ‘‘I will, Mama. But why do you have to go now? I don’t want you to go.’’ Her voice broke into a sob as she buried her face against her mother’s neck.

  ‘‘Oh, sweet baby, I don’t want to go away, but God knows best.’’

  ‘‘I think God’s bein’ mean if He thinks it’s best to take you away,’’ Jacob said, wrapping his arm tightly across his mother’s still-swollen abdomen.

  ‘‘No, Jacob, God is not mean,’’ Patience said, trying her best to soothe his
anger. ‘‘You mustn’t be mad at God. He loves you so. Please promise me, Jacob, that you’ll love Him and keep His word.’’

  Jacob raised up to meet his mother’s eyes. His lower lip quivered as he opened his mouth to speak. No words came. He bolted from the bed and flew across the room, knocking Bill backward as he fled the room.

  Bill could no longer stand the pain of the moment. ‘‘I’m going to send Jacob for the doctor,’’ he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

  ‘‘No,’’ Patience said, shaking her head. ‘‘It wouldn’t help. God is calling me and the baby home. You must let us go.’’

  Bill crossed the room and knelt down on the floor beside Leah. ‘‘Don’t leave me, Patience. Don’t leave us.’’

  She reached out her hand and Bill took hold of her. ‘‘I would stay if I could,’’ she whispered, her voice sounding even weaker. ‘‘You must all surely know that I would love to stay here with you.’’

  ‘‘Please, Mama,’’ Leah cried, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. ‘‘Please.’’

  His daughter’s pleading only mimicked the cry of Bill’s own soul. Please stay with me, Patience. If you die, I die as well. The words went unspoken, but they were forever chiseled on his heart.

  ‘‘Oh, my precious ones,’’ Patience murmured, ‘‘Jesus is here—He won’t . . . leave . . . you.’’ Her blue eyes met Bill’s gaze for only a moment. Even in death, they were filled with the hope she’d known in her Savior. Without a word, she closed her eyes and said nothing more.

  Bill saw the life go out from her. Still clinging to her hand, he knew the very instant she left his side for her heavenly home. Leah, still holding tightly to her mother, didn’t seem to notice for a moment. Then, raising her head, her expression became the very image of brokenness.

  ‘‘No!’’ she cried. ‘‘No!’’

  Leah’s mournful wailing brought Mrs. Reinhart into the room. The older woman reached down to comfort the girl.

  ‘‘Oh, darlin’, your mama wouldn’t want you to fret so.’’ She led the crying child back into the front room.

  Only Bill remained.

  Looking down at the angelic face of his wife, Bill let go of her hand and reached up to touch her face. The woman he had loved so dearly for over fifteen years had gone to her reward without him. Somehow he had always figured they’d die together. He knew it was silly, but it was born out of the reasoning that he surely couldn’t remain alive if she were not at his side.

  ‘‘I love you, my darlin’,’’ he said, smoothing back the dark curls that framed her face. Leaning down, he placed one last kiss upon her lips. She had deserted him, taking with her their unborn child . . . and his heart.

  6

  —[ CHAPTER SIX ]—

  THERE HAD BEEN no money for a stone marker, but because the Barringer family was so well thought of, the mining association put together a collection. Someone voluntarily carved a headstone, chiseling the words PATIENCE BARRINGER, 1865–1897, while someone else agreed to make the casket. The local ladies’ sewing circle came and dressed the body for burial, and the little congregation of the Baptist church brought contributions of food to help the family during their time of loss.

  Leah and Jacob Barringer were rather relieved to see the townsfolk rally around them. Their father had spent that first week after their mother’s death in near total silence. He cried a lot at night, and it frightened Leah, who herself felt rather lost without benefit of father or mother. Jacob did his best to remain strong and supportive. He hadn’t teased her at all that week, but instead had surprised her with his kindness. Perhaps the most startling example came when Leah had been fighting to brush her long dark ringlets. Finding her hair hopelessly tangled, she burst into tears, wishing fervently for her mother. Without a word, Jacob had come to her, taken the brush from her hand, and had carefully, lovingly, worked through the tangles until her hair was completely brushed and in order. She had thrown herself into his arms, crying softly against the cotton shirt she had mended only the day before. They’d always been close, but now their bond had strengthened.

  ‘‘Pa says we’re leaving in just a few more minutes,’’ Jacob called from the side of the little church.

  Leah stood beside her mother’s grave. The dirt was still mounded up, and the rocky terrain surrounding the little cemetery looked rather bleak. Leah hated to leave her mother and baby brother there. She had decided for herself that the baby was a boy. Her mother had thought to have another son and call him Benjamin. Leah had figured her mother to know best.

  Kneeling in the soft dirt, Leah put a fresh bunch of wild flowers atop the grave. ‘‘We’re leaving now, Mama. Papa says gold has been found up north. He believes we’ll make our fortune there. When we do, I’m coming back to see that you have a beautiful new stone—one that has brother’s name on it as well.’’

  She arranged the flowers carefully and ignored the droplets of rain that began to fall. It rained almost religiously every afternoon about this time. Leah had learned to take it in stride along with everything else related to their life in Devil’s Creek.

  ‘‘I don’t know when I’m coming back, Mama. I don’t know if you can see me in heaven or not, but you told me when I was afraid, I could come to you and tell you. And, Mama, I’m afraid. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t like our new life without you.’’ She tried hard to keep from crying. ‘‘I know you said that God is always with us and that when we’re afraid, the psalms said we could trust in Him. I know that bein’ a good Christian girl is what you want for me, but I’m still scared.’’

  Leah glanced up at the sky and let the steadily building rain mingle with her tears. ‘‘I just know you can see me, Mama. Please ask God to help me ’cause Papa just isn’t the same. He’s talking about glory and gold again, but his heart is so sad. Sometimes he just sits there staring at the fireplace, and I don’t know how to make him feel better, ’cause my heart hurts too.’’

  ‘‘Leah! Come on!’’ Jacob called.

  Leah got to her feet and bowed her head for a little prayer. ‘‘Dear God, please keep my mama and little Benjamin safe. Don’t let nothin’ hurt them no more. And, God, if it ain’t too much trouble, could you please help us on our way? My pa doesn’t always think clear. Mama said he’s a dreamer, and I know you understand what that means. So now we’re headin’ off for another one of Papa’s dreams, and I’m afraid.’’

  ‘‘Leah, Pa says come right now or he’s heading out without you!’’

  Leah smiled. She knew better, but the threat meant business nevertheless.

  ‘‘Amen,’’ she whispered, then with one last glance at her mother’s resting-place, she hurried down the slippery path to where Jacob stood.

  ‘‘I had to pray,’’ she explained.

  ‘‘I know,’’ he replied. ‘‘We’re going to need a lot of prayers before this adventure is through.’’

  Leah nodded solemnly, and she could tell by the look in Jacob’s eyes that he meant every word.

  ‘‘We’ll stay in Denver long enough to put some money together,’’ Bill explained to the children that night. ‘‘I’ve got a couple of folks who still owe me money, and who knows, maybe they’ve struck it rich while I’ve been away. Anyway, I know Granny Richards will put us up until we can get on our feet.’’

  Granny Richards wasn’t really their granny, but the kids knew her to be a kind old woman who had given them treats when they were young. Bill knew the old woman would be delighted to see them again. He could only hope that she was still alive.

  There hadn’t been much in the way of possessions to either bring with them or leave behind. Bill felt profound sorrow that in the end, his wife had no more than two dresses to her name and a wooden crate with a few odds and ends of memorabilia. Pots and pans, along with other kitchen goods, and the meager furnishings that had made the cabin a home were hardly a legacy to leave to her children. But, knowing Patience, she’d probably never considered it a problem. Sh
e’d left them the important things. She’d given them love and acceptance, hope and a basic understanding of God. Those were the legacies Patience Barringer would want to be known for.

  The mining company had owned the property, and because of that, Bill couldn’t even raise a traveling purse by selling off the cabin. Instead, he sold off his furniture and what household supplies he didn’t deem as necessary to take with them north to the Yukon.

  Yukon. Even the sound of it promised something exciting and different. With Patience gone, it left only Jacob and Leah to reason with him and keep him from making rash decisions, and neither one of them were in any mood to argue his choice. Not that it would have mattered. Bill knew he couldn’t have remained in the same town where he’d buried Patience and their baby. The very thought would have driven him mad. No, by leaving he could almost pretend that she was still alive—that circumstances had sent her elsewhere. Elsewhere, but not into the grave.

  When the trio finally managed to arrive in Denver, no one was prepared for the madhouse of activities. Denver had grown up considerably over the last few years and was now a rather impressive town. Sitting like a sentinel at the base of the Rockies, the town seemed to almost shimmer in the golden summer sun.

  Bill wiped sweat from his brow and headed the horse in the direction of the poorer district. Granny Richards, if she still lived, would not have moved. Of that, Bill was certain. She always joked that they would have to take her out feet first, and Bill had no doubt of the old woman’s stubborn determination to make that true.

  ‘‘When will we get there, Pa?’’ Jacob asked. ‘‘I’m so empty my ribs are touching my backbone.’’

  ‘‘We ought to be there in a short while. Traffic is pretty bad here. This city is a lot bigger than it used to be. More people and more activities.’’