“I cannot make this right. I cannot hope to see Paxton pay for the harm he’s caused, yet everything in me rises up to demand it. As a woman, you have no idea what it is for a man to face this humiliation. My father lies ill in the next room. My mother and sister have no hope of returning home except at the mercy of the very man who has caused their misery. The man openly covets my wife and sees nothing wrong in tempting her to divorce me and marry him.”
“He has not tempted me,” Grace said softly.
Peter stared at her for a moment as if trying to convince himself of her words. It was then he spied the telegram on the floor. “What’s that?”
Grace looked quickly to where the paper lay. “It’s nothing.” She bent to retrieve the telegram and folded it to put it in her pocket. If she shared the news with Peter, he would know that she’d disobeyed him and had gone alone to the tele- graph office. Furthermore, he would not be pleased by the message.
“That’s a telegram. I didn’t even realize they’d put a line through. Who is it from?”
“It’s not important,” Grace replied. “I’d rather hear what you have to say.” Nervously, she warred within her mind.
If I
tell him he’ll be angry, and if I don’t tell him he’ll feel betrayed.
Oh, God, what am I to do?
“What are you hiding?” Immediately he sounded suspicious. “I demand that you allow me to see that message.”
He took several steps toward her, and Grace knew she had once again managed to rile the beast. “Peter, it is to our benefit that you forget about this telegram. Please. I want only to sow peace between us.” She looked up to him, hoping he could read the pleading in her eyes.
“So now you’re making a habit of keeping secrets from me?” he questioned, but his tone made it clear that he’d already determined the answer.
“Peter, I do not desire to keep things from you. The telegram is unimportant. What is important is that you know you can trust me. I’m not the enemy here.”
“For all I know you’re in this with him.”
“You don’t really believe that. You can’t believe that.”
“Why not?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite put the pieces together. “How am I to know what the truth is when you insist on keeping it from me? It seems quite reasonable that you could have formed some sort of alliance with Paxton.”
“You aren’t speaking rationally,” Grace said. Fear flooded her heart, giving a trembling to her voice. “You . . . can’t . . . say these things.” How could this continue? She was only trying to protect him from her mother’s suggestion that Grace cooperate with Paxton. He would hate her mother for saying such a thing, even as Grace suspected he now hated her for her secrecy.
“So now you think me mad? You think me incapable of seeing this situation for what it is—a betrayal of our marriage vows? Do you tell Paxton your secrets? Does he know your heart? And here I came to apologize—thinking I was the problem.”
Grace drew her hand to her mouth to keep from crying aloud, but her muffled sobs were no less evident. He truly believed the worst of her. He thought her a traitor. She struggled to compose herself while Peter watched, eyes raging silent accusations at her.
“Peter,” she finally managed to speak, “do you love me? Do you trust me at all?”
“Why do you ask me that now? You speak of words and their importance, yet you bandy them about as though they were halfpenny candy. I had a business and a good life before you came into my world. I should have known the worst would be upon me for disregarding my own misgivings.”
Grace fought to keep her voice even. The pain was tearing her heart in two. “Then you truly wish we’d never married?”
“I wish I’d done whatever it would have taken to keep this regretful existence from happening. I wish I had a wife who trusted me enough to share her secrets and respected me enough to keep her faith to herself.” He calmed considerably as he studied her. This calm was even more unnerving than his anger.
“I can’t live up to your expectations, Grace. I cannot believe as you believe. I cannot provide as a husband should provide. Until I met you, I had thought my life well ordered. Now . . . well, now there’s little hope that we can put this right.”
Grace felt the tears stream down her cheeks but refused to wipe them away. She thought only of her mother’s words to do as Martin Paxton had asked. She thought she ought to simply show Peter the telegram, but she realized the time for that had passed.
Peter went to the far end of the small room and took up his trunk. “I’ll leave you to your telegrams and secrets. Perhaps you will find solace in them.”
She felt ill. Would he really leave her? Divorce her? “Where are you going?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know I’m not wanted here, and I don’t intend to stick around and watch what I once thought of as love further crumble and die.”
Grace watched him walk from the room. She crossed to the door and thought to call after him as he made his way down the stairs, but something held her back. Her hand went to the telegram in her pocket, and she knew it would have done little good to call after him.
“What are you doing out here, Grace?” Miranda questioned as she came from the room next door.
“Saying good-bye to my heart,” she murmured.
Miranda came to stand directly in front of her. She took hold of Grace’s arms, forcing her attention. “What are you saying?”
“Peter’s left me. He’s just now gone away . . . and,” she looked beyond her sister-in-law to the now empty stairs, “I don’t think he’s ever coming back.”
MAY 1898
He discovereth deep things out of
darkness, and bringeth out to light
the shadow of death.
J
ob 12:22
KAREN CALLED IT a meeting of grave importance. She had sent a note to Adrik and now sat across the small table from both him and Leah Barringer.
“It’s been weeks since Jacob left, with no word from him. The town’s abuzz with newcomers and would-be miners in every shape and size. Every day,” Karen continued, “more and more people pour over Chilkoot Pass on their journey north to gold and fame. I can’t sit here and wait and wonder what has happened to Jacob in the midst of that onslaught.”
Adrik seemed to consider her words as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Well, what do you have in mind?”
Karen looked at Leah. Only that morning she’d tried to encourage Leah by suggesting they go look for Jacob. It was the first spark of life she’d seen in the child since he’d disappeared. “I think we should go after him.”
“To Dawson?” Adrik questioned in disbelief.
“Yes,” Karen replied. “If that’s what it takes.”
“And what if we did that? What if we went all that way and still didn’t find him? Then what?”
Karen hadn’t considered the scenario any further than the idea of going along the same path Jacob would surely have taken. “I don’t honestly know. I suppose we could settle in and put out word that we were there. We could put up posters asking for information. If they have a newspaper, we might even place an advertisement.”
Adrik nodded. “You’ve thought this all out, I take it.”
Karen shook her head and looked to the table. “Actually, no. I mentioned the idea to Leah this morning, and she liked it. Other than telling Mrs. Neal that we needed a quiet place to meet this evening, I hadn’t considered anything else.”
“Well, there’s a great deal more to do with heading to Dawson than deciding it should be so. You have no idea what the trail is like and how demanding the ordeal will be,” Adrik told her. “Not only is this a wilderness with pathways barely mucked out by those who’ve passed before you, but there are very real dangers.”
Karen felt she had to persuade Adrik. Perhaps in doing so, she might also persuade herself. “I know that, but other women and children have made the trip and lived to tell about it.”
“And others have died and lay buried alongside the trail in unmarked graves. I’d hate to see that for you or Leah.”
“I want to find Jacob,” Leah said, speaking for the first time in days without having a direct question posed to her. “I want to know if Pa is really dead. I know it won’t be easy to hike the trail. My pa told us all about it. He’d read up on it. But I still want to go. I want to try.”
Adrik smiled at her, and Karen saw the sympathy and kindness in his expression as he reached out to touch Leah’s shoulder. “I know you love your brother and want to know the truth about your father, and no man could ask for a better sister or daughter. But, Leah, you have no idea what you’d be up against. The nights are bitter cold, even now with the spring coming. There will be floods with the thaw and wild animals. There are miles to go between here and Dawson City, miles that you will have to walk. Are you really up to that?”
Leah lifted her chin ever so slightly. “I’ll do what I have to. Ma said that was the way it was with life. You face each day as it comes. And the way I see it, every day spent on the trail would put me that much closer to Jacob and maybe even Pa.”
“She’s got a point, Adrik,” Karen said softly. “The reason I’ve asked you here is to find out if you’d be our guide. I could pay you.”
Adrik frowned. “I’d hoped maybe I was something more than a guide.”
“You’re our friend,” Leah responded before Karen could speak. “You’re the only one we trust.”
Adrik met Karen’s eyes. He seemed to demand answers from her that she wasn’t yet ready to give him. Understanding this, he drew a deep breath and put both his palms down on the table. It looked as though he might push himself up and leave, but instead he blew out his breath loudly and patted the tabletop. “I suppose we need to figure out what our assets are. The supplies needed to go north are extensive, as you well know. A ton of goods per person won’t be cheap. Then there are tariffs to pay to the Canadians, and we can’t hope to pack this stuff all on our own. I can hire a couple of natives to help, but they probably won’t want to go any farther than Lake Bennett.”
Karen smiled. He was going to help them. The thought sent a wave of relief washing over her. She flashed him a look of gratitude—at least she hoped he’d see it for that. “I have the list that appeared in the paper,” she said, pulling the notice from her pocket. “Does this appear to suggest all of the necessary supplies?”
Adrik took the paper and scanned it. “I have tools—we needn’t have those things for each person. I also have a large tent we can share and a cookstove, so we needn’t buy those things, either.”
“I don’t know that it would be such a good idea for us to share a tent,” Karen replied. “We aren’t . . . well . . . that is to say . . .” She felt her cheeks grow hot. “We aren’t family.”
“We could remedy that,” Adrik said with a laugh. “Wouldn’t hurt my feelings none.” He leaned over and playfully nudged Leah. “How about you? Would you be against Karen marrying someone like me?”
Karen felt mortified. He’d never talked of marriage—not outright like this. Leah giggled. Karen hadn’t heard that girlish sound in weeks. Leah had been so lost in her sorrows that laughter had been buried along with the news of her father and her brother’s disappearance.
“Enough!” Karen declared. “Just buy another tent. We have the money.”
Adrik turned to study her for a moment. He raised a brow as if to question her certainty on the matter, then shrugged. Karen couldn’t help but see something akin to regret, maybe even hurt, in his expression.
“You talk as though money is no object,” Adrik said, looking back at the list. “I think we’d better figure out how much we have for this. I have nearly eight hundred dollars from my packing experiences. I want to leave some of it for Joe and his family. Packers aren’t making much money these days, what with the tramway taking their business.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Karen replied. “We did very well with the store, and Mr. Colton was quite generous with our profits. I have my aunt’s share as well as my own. There’s probably twelve hundred dollars in my account.”
“Well, coming from a camp where they charged twentyfive dollars for a dozen eggs, you’re going to need every cent you can put your hands on,” Adrik replied. “We’ve also got to remember the duty taxes. I’ve heard it said you’ll pay a pretty penny to get the Canadians to let you cross their borders.”
“I’m sure the stores here will give us a good deal. I was always generous with them when they needed something from me,” Karen said. “Do you think we can get everything we need here in Dyea?”
Adrik continued to look at the list and nodded. “I feel confident we can, but you’ll pay dearly whether they owe you favors or not. Can you maybe get Mrs. Neal to let you have some of her kitchenware rather than buying it all brand-new?”
“It’s possible. What will we need?”
“Well, I have a coffeepot and a skillet, so we don’t need to worry about that,” he replied. “See if she can spare a couple of pie tins. You can use those over the fire if need be or just heat things up on the camp stove with them. You can eat out of them, wash out of them, and even dig with them if you have to. They make a very useful tool. If she doesn’t have any, we’ll buy rather than settle for plates.”
Karen nodded. “I’m sure we can get them. What else?”
“You and Leah will each need your own tin cup and knife. I can find you a couple of good pocketknives. These are vital. You need them to stay alive. Never underestimate the usefulness of anything. Why, I once saw a man pull his bootlaces out and make a fishing line with them and a safety pin. You just never know.”
“Sounds like we’ll have ample chance to use our imaginations,” Karen said with a grin.
He laughed and looked at her in such a way as to warm her blood. “You don’t know the half of it.”
They pored over the supply list for another half hour before they all felt they knew exactly what their responsibilities were to be. Leah began to yawn, and Karen finally sent her upstairs, leaving only Adrik to sit with her in the dim lamplight of Mrs. Neal’s empty dining room.
“So what do we do when we find him?” Adrik asked, his voice low and appealing.
They were so very alone, Karen realized, and for a moment the idea rather excited her. She wondered if he might attempt to kiss her again. And if he did, she wondered if she would try to stop him. “Find whom?” she asked, rousing herself from such thoughts.