[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North

Home > Historical > [Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North > Page 24
[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North Page 24

by Tracie Peterson


  ‘‘Some. I guess I’ve known men similar to Mr. Paxton. They aren’t easily swayed and not at all inclined to take defeat— especially from a woman.’’

  ‘‘I wouldn’t fret over it. We’re a long way from Chicago, and Mr. Paxton must have other concerns to busy himself with. Just as we have ours. I was just thinking that I might very well like to settle here. Perhaps I’ll stay on, even when Mother assures me that all is well. Maybe I can even convince Mother to bring Father and come here to join me. Although I suppose there would be little work for Father here, and Mother does love her social events.’’

  Grace paused, noting that Karen was sitting idle, staring off as if lost in a memory. ‘‘What’s wrong? I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve said.’’

  Karen shook her head. ‘‘I’m sorry. What were you saying?’’

  ‘‘Never mind what I was saying. Tell me what has you so worried.’’

  ‘‘My mind is just preoccupied. I’m worried about Father, and I’m worried about those children.’’

  ‘‘This doesn’t sound like the same woman who told me over and over that we had to give our heartaches to God and trust that He would see us through the bad times as well as the good.’’

  ‘‘I know God is in the midst of this, but I have a bad feeling about this matter of the Barringer kids. Leah is so heartbroken that her father would leave her behind, and Jacob is angrier than ever. His rage was already getting the best of him—what do I do with him now?’’

  ‘‘Have you tried talking to him?’’

  Karen picked up a bag of flour and measured some out into a bowl. ‘‘I’ve tried,’’ she said, focusing on her work. ‘‘But he wants no part of it. He’s almost grown. And with Bill’s departure, he certainly isn’t open to parental guidance, especially in the form of a substitute mother.’’

  Grace began mixing the bread again and considered the matter carefully. ‘‘I would hate to be left behind like that. They must feel completely betrayed.’’

  ‘‘And the worst of it is, I can’t help them to believe that they haven’t been betrayed. I can’t offer support for Bill Barringer’s actions because I don’t believe the man made the right choice. If anything, he should have taken his savings and loaded those kids back on Merry Maid and headed for home.’’

  ‘‘I agree, but we can’t change the circumstances now.’’ Grace set the dough aside to rise and turned to her friend. ‘‘And what of your father? How shall we handle this matter?’’

  Karen put down the mixing bowl and shook her head. ‘‘Grace, I’m afraid.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’ Grace could see the anguish in Karen’s eyes, but for the life of her she couldn’t understand what had given birth to this fear.

  ‘‘I just have a feeling that things aren’t good. I keep imagining that I’ve come all this way only to lose him.’’

  ‘‘He’s not lost,’’ Grace said with determination. ‘‘He’s just stranded for a time. The quarantine will pass and he’ll return before the heaviest part of winter sets in. You’ll see.’’

  Karen moved to check the loaf of bread already baking in the oven. ‘‘I’d like to believe that, but I just feel so . . . so . . .’’ She looked up as she closed the oven door. ‘‘I feel lost.’’

  ‘‘But I don’t understand why,’’ Grace said, coming to Karen’s side. She put her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘‘Has something happened that I don’t know about?’’

  Karen shook her head. ‘‘No. I’ve had no news, if that’s what you mean.’’

  ‘‘Come. Sit with me and talk. We’ve not had a really good talk in so very long.’’

  Karen smiled and followed Grace to the table. ‘‘You seem more the mothering figure now than me.’’

  ‘‘Then let me bear your burden and help you to release whatever fears you may be holding inside,’’ Grace replied.

  Karen folded her hands and looked at them carefully, as if studying them for answers. ‘‘I don’t know what I’m called to do anymore—what my purpose is. I used to know so clearly, but now I don’t.’’

  ‘‘What’s changed?’’

  ‘‘You have, for one. You’re a grown woman,’’ Karen said, looking up. ‘‘You don’t need a nurse or teacher anymore. You’ve taken to menial labor like a duck to water—you’re better at bread making and sewing canvas than I can ever hope to be.’’ She sighed and continued. ‘‘See, as long as you were a child, I knew my purpose. I felt called to be your governess— to stay at your side and see you raised properly. I enjoyed our time together and felt compelled to grow close to you as a friend, as well as a teacher.’’

  ‘‘But nothing of that has changed. You are still my dearest friend, and there is still much I have to learn. I’m learning every day.’’

  ‘‘Yes, but much of what you are learning now doesn’t require my presence. I feel a restlessness in me, Grace. A calling out, if you would. The only problem is, I don’t know what I’m being called out to.’’

  ‘‘What of the Barringer children? You are taking up with Leah where you left off with me. Then, too, there’s Jacob. He needs to be softened and molded into a young man with a heart for God and for good.’’

  Karen seemed to consider Grace’s words for a moment. In the silence, Grace could feel her friend’s turmoil. It seemed to permeate the air like an odor—not quite unpleasant, but not altogether welcomed.

  Karen finally spoke. ‘‘I thought maybe God was calling me north to work with my father. I thought perhaps I would teach the Tlingit children.’’

  ‘‘And why can’t you?’’

  ‘‘I suppose I can, but I don’t know that this is the proper calling either. I have spent a lifetime feeling called to specifics, and now everything seems so questionable. I knew since I was a young girl that I was being called to remain single—to receive an education. Eventually, I felt called to work for you.’’ She looked at Grace and smiled. ‘‘Do you remember that at first your mother thought me too young and inexperienced to work as your nanny?’’

  Grace nodded. ‘‘I overheard her tell Father that in spite of your being an educated woman, you knew nothing of life.’’

  ‘‘Well, she was partially right, but I knew more of life than she gave me credit for. Anyway, I had no fear of not being hired for the post. I knew God had brought me to you, and I knew it was His will for us to be together. But now I don’t know what His will is. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can’t say whether I’m to remain single or teach or to raise the Barringer children until their father chooses to show up again. I simply feel that the answers are veiled away—hidden from my sight.’’

  ‘‘Have you prayed on the matter?’’

  Karen laughed. ‘‘That seems to be all I do accomplish. I pray and pray and pray again. And still I feel no peace in my heart. I feel as though I’m in a constant state of limbo. I can’t move forward or backward, nor side to side.’’

  ‘‘Perhaps, then, you aren’t supposed to move at all. Maybe this is one of those times of resting and waiting. I know it is for me.’’

  ‘‘Because of your parents and Paxton?’’ Karen questioned.

  Grace felt overwhelmed with her own feelings and concerns. She had longed to talk to Karen and share her heart, and now her emotions welled up inside her and threatened to spill over. ‘‘I think I’m in love.’’

  The words had an obvious effect on Karen. ‘‘Peter Colton?’’ she questioned.

  Grace felt her face flush. ‘‘I know you disapprove and I know you two grate on each other’s nerves, but I find my heart so overwhelmed when he is near. I feel like my stomach is doing flips and my head is soaring high above my body.’’

  ‘‘Couldn’t we just chalk it off to gold fever or some other type of illness?’’ Karen questioned. ‘‘I mean, does it have to be love? Does it have to be him?’’

  Grace frowned. ‘‘Why do you hate him so?’’

  ‘‘I don’t hate him, Grace. I simply see him as the same domi
neering type of man you’ve found yourself under all of your life. Your father was like that—Paxton is like that.’’

  ‘‘Captain Colton is nothing like Martin Paxton!’’ Grace declared defensively.

  ‘‘But I fear he easily could be. He’s only a step away from the same kind of insistent cruelty that you witnessed in your former fiance . I just don’t want you to get hurt.’’

  ‘‘I’m already hurt,’’ Grace replied, getting up from the table. ‘‘I can’t love Peter Colton with any real hope of a future. He isn’t interested in the things of God and he has no faith in Jesus Christ.’’

  Karen nodded. ‘‘That was going to be my next point.’’

  ‘‘Don’t you think I’ve already considered all of this? You’ve told me time and time again how painfully destructive it can be for people to have split philosophies regarding religion. I know that Captain Colton has his own way of doing things and doesn’t believe in a need for God, but I can’t help that my heart feels as it does.’’

  Grace’s heart ached with the truth of her words. She knew deep inside she couldn’t let her feelings for Peter take her away from her faith. She couldn’t allow him to come between her and God. But she also knew her emotions were set aflutter every time the man walked through the door. She had never hoped to fall in love, not after her horrible encounter with Martin Paxton. She had never believed herself capable of trusting a man after her father’s betrayal. But she had been wrong. Her feelings for Peter were very real, and she feared that if she couldn’t find a way to control them, they’d also become very evident. After all, Karen had no problem in guessing to whom she’d given her heart.

  ‘‘I won’t do anything foolish if you’re worrying over it,’’ Grace said softly. ‘‘I’m old enough to know better.’’

  ‘‘You may be old enough,’’ Karen said, ‘‘but I’m not sure that’s the issue. Knowing better is one thing—turning away from a bad situation is entirely different.’’

  ‘‘Grace!’’ Leah called as she opened the door and bound in from the store. ‘‘You have a letter.’’

  Grace felt her heart begin to race. ‘‘Is it from home? From my mother?’’

  Leah shrugged and handed her the envelope. ‘‘I don’t know. Jacob just happened to be up at the post office and found out we had this letter waiting for us there.’’

  Grace took the envelope and nodded. ‘‘Yes, that’s my mother’s script. I’m sure of it.’’ She tore open the envelope and began to read.

  Dearest Grace,

  Things are quite grim, as we knew they would be, but will work themselves out in time. You must remain in Alaska for a time longer while I work to put things right again. I’ll send word when it is safe to write to me, but until then, please send no correspondence. I won’t be at the Chicago address anyway, and letters might only fall into the wrong hands.

  Yours in love,

  Mother

  ‘‘I can tell by your frown that the news isn’t good,’’ Karen said, breaking the silence. ‘‘What does she say?’’

  ‘‘It’s what she doesn’t say that bothers me,’’ Grace replied, handing Karen the letter. ‘‘She only says that things are grim. Well, we already knew they were that. She makes no mention of Martin Paxton or of Father. I can only presume the worst. Especially given the news that she won’t be remaining in Chicago. Perhaps she has left Father.’’

  Leah patted Grace’s arm. ‘‘I’m sure your mama will be all right. Your pa too.’’

  Grace smiled, encouraged by the child’s words.

  ‘‘Don’t borrow trouble, Grace. You don’t know anything of the sort. You can estimate and try to guess all you want, but it won’t change matters. We must put it in God’s hands and pray for the best. In the meantime, we have to have a positive outlook and believe that everything will come around right. Your mother loves you a great deal, and she would do anything to keep you from harm. It’s the heart of every mother—or so I’m told.’’ Karen gave Grace a sad little smile.

  Leah surprised them by wrapping her arms around Karen in a possessive manner. ‘‘I wish you were my mother,’’ she said without warning.

  Karen hugged the child close and kissed the top of her head, all the while looking at Grace. Grace felt her heart breaking for Leah and Karen. They were both without benefit or hope of ever seeing their mothers again, until the time God would join them all together in heaven. At least Grace had her mother. She had to take comfort in that.

  We might have wasted a good many years, Grace thought, but we’ll make up for the lost time when this matter is behind us. We will find a way to cross over the years of desert and make for ourselves a place of beauty and hope.

  Part Three

  DECEMBER 1897-JANUARY 1898

  For God shall bring every work into

  judgment, with every secret thing,

  whether it be good, or whether it be evil.

  ECCLESIASTES 12:14

  25

  —[ CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ]—

  DAYS AFTER BILL BARRINGER LEFT, Jacob disappeared. Karen frantically searched for the boy, seeking out the various places she’d heard him mention and talking to those who knew him. With every denial of the boy’s whereabouts, Karen feared that he’d gone north to follow his father. It seemed to be the logical thing for the troubled youth to do.

  Oh, God, she prayed as she made her way to the seedier part of town, protect and keep him. He’s just a child—a lost and lonely child. He’s suffered so much already, please keep him from harm. Help him to find his hope in you.

  She continued praying, finding strength in the words she shared with her heavenly Father. There was comfort for her in the prayer as well. Karen had long realized the power of prayer and the way it allowed her to feel a connection to heaven and all that God offered. She thought of her father’s deep love of God, his desire to bring the lost souls to the same hope he’d found. Wilmont Pierce didn’t care where that desire took him. He didn’t mind the cost or the hardship. He simply loved God, and he loved the people God had created.

  Karen wanted to love people in the same way, but where her father collectively embraced entire villages, Karen had always felt directed to focus on one or two people at a time. Perhaps it was just a different method of service, she thought, but perhaps it was a self-imposed limitation. She’d always felt divided and too far spread when she’d faced the situation of teaching to a group. Even when she’d worked with the children at church, Karen had found herself wondering if her time was well spent.

  Maybe it’s an issue of pride, she reasoned. With one or two people I can easily see the results of my heartfelt work. With a crowd, I’m less certain. There are more possibilities for distraction. Yes, she decided, it was pride. Pride kept her closed off from the rest of the world and limited her ability to offer herself freely to God.

  Karen peered inside one tent saloon after another as she continued her search but found nothing but darkness. The morning hours brought hangovers and misery from nights spent in revelry and drinking. It seemed a shame that such beauty as was found in Dyea could be so marred by such sinful natures. She could only pray that Jacob hadn’t fallen victim to such matters.

  ‘‘Where can he be, Lord?’’ she whispered softly. She strained her eyes in the direction of the harbor. ‘‘He’s just a boy.’’

  Picking her way across the rutted frozen mud, Karen felt her efforts were rather futile. Perhaps Jacob would come back when he was good and ready. But then again, perhaps he would never come back. What was Karen to do or say if Jacob never returned? How could she explain it to his father?

  Anger coursed throughout her body. Explain? To Bill Barringer? The man had deserted his children, left them to the care of a virtual stranger, and allowed gold fever to drive him away from his true responsibilities. Why, it would serve him right if she simply packed Jacob and Leah up and headed back to Seattle. Perhaps once she found her father she’d do exactly that.

  But even as she considered
the possibility, Karen knew she couldn’t act on her anger. God had a purpose and plan for her life, and even if she was uncertain of the direction at this point, she couldn’t make poor choices simply because others had taken that route.

  Giving up for the time, Karen made her way back to the Colton Trading Post. She felt overcome with grief and sniffed back tears. What would become of the boy? If she couldn’t find him and talk sense into him, what harm might he make for himself?

  In a spirit of defeat, Karen paused at the shop door. She peered up Main Street and then down as if perhaps she’d overlooked something. The town was surprisingly peaceful. Perhaps the bitter cold had caused folks to give up the struggle for gold. Or maybe the fact that Christmas was only a few days away had given the townspeople something else to focus on.

  ‘‘Kind of cold to be out here just gawking around, isn’t it?’’

  Karen was startled by the appearance of Adrik Ivankov. She’d forgotten what a big man he was. Tall and broad at the shoulders, he looked even more massive in his heavy winter coat and fur cap.

  ‘‘I was looking for someone,’’ Karen replied, trying not to sound shaken. ‘‘Seems to be my lot in life.’’

  ‘‘Just so long as you aren’t planning on shooting anybody,’’ he said, the twinkle in his eye revealing that he knew about her previous exploits.

  ‘‘I didn’t have it planned today,’’ she replied with a smile. ‘‘Maybe I can work it in tomorrow.’’

  He laughed with a deep, rich tone that actually seemed to give off warmth. ‘‘Given your nature, it wouldn’t surprise me.’’ He smiled and his long, ice-crusted mustache raised up at the corners.

  His amusement unnerved her momentarily. ‘‘Have you had word from my father?’’ she questioned.

 

‹ Prev