Karen got to her feet and reached out to help pull Leah up. The last thing she wanted to do was get involved in a discussion about God.
“I’m thinking we’ll both feel better when we get some official word on what’s happened. In the meantime, we need to keep a positive heart.”
“I know Papa loves God,” Leah whispered. “I know he loves me and Jacob, too.” She said it in such a way that Karen believed the girl was desperate for affirmation.
“I know he loves you, too,” Karen replied, putting her arm around Leah’s shoulders. “He loved you enough to protect you from the worst of the trip and wait until he could send for you in a comfortable fashion. He just wanted to keep you safe.”
Leah looked up and smiled. “I’m glad you were here to stay with us. I love you, Karen. I wish I could have had a sister just like you.”
Karen hugged her close. “I’m happy to be a sister to you now, Leah. I’ll always be here for you and Jacob.”
“Just like God,” Leah said, smiling.
“Yes, just like God,” Karen said, the words turning bitter in her mouth.
————
The afternoon brought more news of the Palm Sunday avalanche. Karen cringed as packers and would-be miners flooded into the Gold Nugget Restaurant with stories of the tragedy.
“We dug out bodies all day,” one man said between bites of Mrs. Neal’s dumplings. “Never seen nothin’ like it. Don’t plan to see nothin’ like it again. I’m headin’ back to Texas. No gold is worth this.”
Karen listened to the stories as she helped Mrs. Neal serve the various customers. She finally worked up her courage and asked one particularly knowledgeable man if he knew exactly how many people had died.
The man scratched his ragged-looking beard. “I heard it said at least seventy. At first they was afeared it might be a couple hundred. The folks at the Scales were mighty slow in comin’ down that mountain. There was still a few hundred up there, and we figured ’em all to be goners. Happy to be proven wrong.”
Karen nodded. Seventy dead was still a high number. “How soon will they know who all was involved?”
“They been identifying bodies since the slide. Should have some of the bodies back here by the end of the day. Heard tell they was gonna make a cemetery just northwest of Dyea. There’s already some folks over there lighting big bonfires to warm up the ground enough to dig.”
Karen left the man to his meal and went to wait on the new group of men just coming into the dining hall.
“We’ve got a few places at that far table,” she announced, not realizing until she came to the last man that she was staring into the face of Adrik Ivankov. “You’re all right!” She surprised the entire group by throwing her arms around Adrik and breaking into tears. “I thought you might be dead.”
She pulled away and found Adrik staring at her in dumbfounded silence. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Guess that was rather uncalled-for. It’s just with the rumors of the avalanche and all, I was starting to get overly worried.”
Adrik said nothing but pulled her back toward the front door. “We’ve gotta talk. The news isn’t good.”
“But of course it’s good. You weren’t killed in the slide.” Karen didn’t want to hear anything more about the slide. She was afraid of what news Adrik might share.
“Maybe not, but others weren’t as fortunate.”
“I know,” Karen said, nervously letting go of Adrik. “I just heard that some seventy people are dead. Is that true?”
“At least seventy. They’re still not sure if they’ve found everyone.”
“How awful. Were you in the middle of it?”
Adrik shook his head. “Not when the slides came. I’d been earning a bit of money with Dyea Joe and his family. We decided the snows weren’t safe and moved back to Sheep Camp. We tried to convince other folks to move back with us, but they wouldn’t hear it. Now they paid for their greed with their lives.”
“I’m so glad you were sensible. We’ve been worried sick.” She paused and looked down at the well-worn rag rug. “Look, I know I said some things—that I wasn’t very hospitable . . .”
“Never mind. I knew the grief was making you say things you didn’t mean.” Adrik’s expression softened from worry to sympathy. “Karen, there’s something else you need to see.”
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. “I was given this by a dying man.”
Karen looked at him quizzically. “Why do I need to see this?”
“Just open it.”
Karen shrank away as a strange foreboding gripped her. Fear crept up her spine and settled on her heart. Slowly she unfolded the paper and read. Glancing up to meet Adrik’s eyes, Karen shook her head. “You said you took this from a dying man. Bill Barringer is dead?”
“I’m not sure,” Adrik replied. “I was helping to dig out the victims of the slide and came upon a man who begged me to take this letter. He died shortly afterward. He was pretty banged up, his face crushed—probably he hit his head on rocks as the snow swept him down the mountain. I went with him to the morgue, but as you know, I only saw Bill a couple of times.”
Karen felt her head begin to swim. Poor Leah. Poor Jacob. They were all alone now. Completely deserted and orphaned in the world. Adrik was speaking to her, but Karen couldn’t hear the words. The only thing she heard was Leah’s question, over and over in her head.
“Is God mad at us?”
“Karen, why don’t you sit down for a minute and rest?” Adrik took hold of her by the elbow and led her away from the front door and into Mrs. Neal’s office.
“I can’t believe this is happening. God must hate me.” She let the letter fall to the floor. “I can’t give them that. I can’t take away their hope.”
“You can’t give them false hopes, either.”
Karen shook her head. “You don’t understand. If that man was Bill, then they’re all alone.”
“They still have you. You were just telling me before I left that you would stay with the kids no matter what.”
“And I will,” Karen replied firmly. “But it isn’t the same and you know it.” She looked deep into his eyes, feeling some small comfort from his closeness. “It just isn’t the same.”
“Yes, I know that. But I also know that having someone love and care for you, even someone who wasn’t born to the task, is better than no one at all. Maybe it’s even better.” His words warmed her strangely. She felt drawn into his gaze as he continued to speak. “You love those kids even though you don’t have to. No one would blame you if you ran in the opposite direction, but I know you won’t.”
Karen saw the sincerity of his words in his expression. He knelt beside her and handed her the letter. “You may be the only person left for them. You have to give them this and you have to be with them when they learn the truth.”
“But we don’t know for sure that it was Bill. People carry posts all the time for folks. Someone might have been coming down to one of the camps to pass the letter on.”
“That could be true,” Adrik said softly, “but then again, it might not be. You have to be ready for the worst.”
“Seems like the worst is all I’m getting these days,” Karen said, looking again at the letter. She raised her eyes to Adrik’s. “This is a hateful land. Cruel and inhumane. My father must have been crazy to love it so.”
Adrik shook his head and got back to his feet. “You’ll learn in the by-and-by that land has no choice in the matter. It is what it is by God’s design. People, however—now, people have a choice.
You
have a choice, Karen.”
Karen deliberated long after Adrik left as to how she might break the news to Jacob and Leah. There was no easy way to tell them the truth. Then again, what was the truth? Had the dead man truly been Bill Barringer? Would it be cruel if she suggested he was dead, when their father might well be miles away in safety? Sitting in Mrs. Neal’s tiny room, Karen longed to run as far away from Alaska as she could possibly go. Her heart urged her to pray, but in her weariness she rejected such comfort.
Nothing I do is going to change a thing. I can’t bring the
dead back to life, and I can’t give those kids a reason to have
hope any more than I can figure one out for myself
.
She looked to the ceiling. “I suppose this is all my fault. Will you just keep stripping away the things I need? Will you take everyone—everything? Why not kill Martin Paxton instead of Bill Barringer?”
“Oh, here you are,” Mrs. Neal announced as she entered the room. “I have a couple of folks who are looking for you.”
Karen looked up and shook her head. “I don’t feel like company right now. Who is it?”
“It’s your friend Grace.” Mrs. Neal smiled. “That ought to cheer you up.”
Karen jumped to her feet. “Grace is here?”
“She sure is. Just outside by the front door. She’s brought another gal with her. Pretty little thing with hair the color of brown sugar. Can’t say I’ve ever seen her before, but I could be wrong.”
“Could I talk to her here? I just got bad news about Bill Barringer.”
“The kids’ pa?”
Karen nodded. “Adrik thinks he died in the slide. He took a letter from a man, and it’s addressed to Jacob and Leah. I need to tell the kids and give them this letter from their father, but I don’t want to do it just yet.”
Mrs. Neal, a softly rounded woman, put her arm around Karen’s shoulder in motherly comfort. “You just stay right here and I’ll get Grace. You’ll need her now.”
Karen knew the truth in that. She sorely missed Grace and her friendship. She wondered how Grace had found her here instead of at the burned-out remains of the store.
Mrs. Neal paused by the door. “I’ll keep Leah busy, and if Jacob comes in from work, I’ll see to him, as well.”
“Thank you,” Karen murmured, feeling a bit of peace return to her heart at the sight of her friend. It had been over three months since she’d last seen Grace. How marvelous that she should arrive at just this moment.
“Karen!” Grace called out, hurrying across the room. She wrapped her arms around Karen and hugged her tight. “Oh, I’ve just learned about the fire. How very awful for you. Are you all right?”
Karen pulled away. “How did you learn about it? Did Peter find you and tell you?”
Grace frowned. “I’ve not seen Peter since docking in Skagway. Miranda, Peter’s sister, accompanied me here. Oh, goodness, Miranda!” Grace went back to the door and motioned for the woman. “Miranda, come meet my dear friend and mentor.”
Karen easily recognized the resemblance between Peter and Miranda. Although Miranda’s hair and eyes were darker, her chin and mouth were clearly the same. The woman smiled and extended a gloved hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Pierce. Grace speaks of you often.”
Grace smiled. “The pleasures and joys of one’s life deserve special consideration. Karen has been both to me. Karen, this is Miranda Colton.”
Karen shook the woman’s hand. “Miss Colton.”
“Please call me Miranda.”
“Only if you call me Karen.”
The woman laughed. “Oh, I shall, for I feel I already know you very well through Grace.”
Karen seriously doubted that either Grace or Miranda knew her at this point. She felt only rage, anger, and now complete confusion. She would soon have to tell the Barringer children about their father and then decide what was to be done in order to see to their welfare.
Grace picked up the conversation. “We went first to the store only to find it gone. Whatever happened?”
“Paxton.”
Grace raised her brows. “Martin Paxton?”
“The very same. He burned down the store and killed Aunt Doris.”
“What? Doris has passed on?”
Karen saw the pain in Grace’s expression. She touched her friend’s arm to offer comfort. “Adrik Ivankov woke us. He saved the rest of us—the Barringer children. I thought Aunt Doris was with me, but I only had hold of her blanket. The smoke had overcome her and she collapsed. Adrik went in after her, but . . .” She paused, trying to keep her voice from breaking. Taking a deep breath, Karen changed the subject. “But what of you? How is it that you’re here? Aren’t you worried about Martin Paxton?”
“I don’t think he’ll bother me now. I’m married. He knows he’s lost.”
“He knows nothing,” Karen said, walking back to the wooden chair. Angrily she plopped down, not even caring that she had done so in a most unladylike manner. “Martin Paxton is to blame for the fire. He’s promised to make all of us pay. He managed part of that threat with the fire.”
“But how do you know it was Mr. Paxton?” Grace asked in grave concern.
“I saw him at the fire. He was watching us as we came out of the building. He smiled at me, Grace. Smiled that smug, ridiculous smile.”
“That doesn’t mean he actually set the fire,” Grace protested.
“I suppose you would just forgive him even if he stood there acknowledging the deed. Peter said that would be your attitude. He said you didn’t understand that men like Paxton never change.”
Grace stepped back and frowned. “Peter spoke against me?”
Karen saw Miranda take hold of Grace’s arm. “Surely he wouldn’t,” Miranda stated.
“He didn’t say it to speak against you, but merely to explain to me why you wouldn’t be inclined to believe anything against Paxton.”
“I know Mr. Paxton to be an evil man. You forget, I was the one who had to deal with him first,” Grace said, anger tingeing her tone.
“I don’t forget, but apparently you do. Peter said you wanted to send the man a letter of forgiveness. Why would you ever want to do that? You owe him nothing. He’s the one who should apologize.”
“But the Bible calls us to forgive our enemies and do good to those who wrong us,” Grace protested. “You taught me that.”
“I don’t care. The man is evil and deserves to pay for what he’s done. The Bible is also full of examples where people were justly punished.”
“That’s true, and if Mr. Paxton started the fire, he should indeed pay,” Grace replied. “But, Karen, what if you’re wrong?”
“Do you have proof?” Miranda asked. “Proof that the authorities might recognize?”
“I know Paxton, and I know what he’s capable of. It was the middle of the night, and he had no other reason to be here in Dyea. I feel no doubt whatsoever. He was responsible, and he must pay for what he’s done.”
“Just listen to you,” Grace said, shaking her head. “You don’t even sound like the Karen Pierce who taught me to trust God in matters of revenge.”