She fought him with the last remnants of her strength, sobbing. “I have to try. I have to. She’s probably just inside the door. I know she was with me as we crossed to the door.”
She turned her pleading expression to him and saw him study her only a moment before letting go of her arm. “I’ll go,” he said.
Karen watched in stunned silence as he pushed back several men. He pulled a woolen scarf to his face and reentered the burning building. Karen felt her breathing quicken in the smoke-filled air.
Dear God, let him find her
, she pleaded in anguish.
It seemed like an eternity before Adrik returned to the alleyway door, a small, unmoving bundle in his arms.
“Thank God!” Karen cried, hurrying forward to pull Adrik to a less smoky area than he’d previously taken her. “Put her down here,” she commanded. Kneeling, she waited for Adrik to do as she said.
“Karen, I . . .”
“Put her right here,” Karen insisted. She patted the frozen ground and looked up to see that he understood.
Adrik lowered Doris’s still frame to the ground, but instead of leaving her to Karen’s care, he pulled Karen to her feet. “She’s gone.”
The words were given so matter-of-factly that Karen could only stare at Adrik for several moments. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Karen.”
“No!” she exclaimed, pushing his six-foot-two-inch frame aside. “She’s just . . . overcome.”
She knelt down again and stroked Doris’s hand. The heat coming off the body caused steam to rise in the icy air. Karen pushed back the old woman’s tangled and singed hair and gently rubbed her cheeks. “Aunt Doris. Aunt Doris, please wake up.”
The woman’s silence left Karen numb inside. She couldn’t be dead. She just couldn’t be. Once again, Adrik pulled her away from Doris and brought her to her feet.
“She’s in better hands now,” Adrik whispered.
“No,” Karen moaned. “No!” She looked into the bearded man’s face and saw the confirmation of her worst fears. “No.” She fell against him in tears. This couldn’t be happening. God wouldn’t take her away from them. He just wouldn’t.
Adrik wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair. His words came in soothing whispers. “She’s with God, Karen. She’s in a better place. No pain. No suffering.”
“I want her with me. She’s all I have left.”
Even as she said the words, Karen knew the statement was far from true. She had siblings in the lower states and friends right here in Dyea. There were many people who cared about her, including the Barringer children. Their father had deserted them for the goldfields of the Yukon. He had left them to her care, and in doing so, the trio had learned to cling to each other through their shared difficulties. Karen mourned the loss of the father she’d come north to find, while they mourned the loss of the father they’d come north only to lose.
They needed her. And somehow, she had to stay strong for them.
Adrik’s comforting touch made the horrors of the night seem less overwhelming. She wasn’t alone. Karen knew that now. Remembering her father’s promise that God would always be there to comfort His children, she put her head on Adrik’s chest and stared off blankly at the burning building.
Everything she owned, with the exception of her father’s Bible, which now lay on the ground near Doris’s lifeless body, was gone. Her clothes, her books, everything. She saw the flames reach high—appearing to go upward until they touched the night skies—cinders blending with the stars to offer pinpoints of light.
She was glad her friend Grace wasn’t here to see the destruction. Their home had been attached to the back of the Colton Trading Post, the store owned by Grace’s husband of three months, Peter Colton. How hard it would be to share the news of this loss, Karen thought. Peter had looked to this store as a means of salvation—at least financial salvation.
Adrik released his hold. “You can plan to stay in my tent tonight, and I’ll go bed down with Joe.”
“Karen! Karen, are you all right?” Leah cried out as she rushed into the older woman’s arms. “Oh, Karen, we could have died.”
“We’re safe now,” Karen reassured her, holding Leah close and stroking her hair. “Are you burned or hurt?”
“No, just scared,” Leah said, lifting her tear-filled eyes. “I couldn’t find Jacob. I thought he was dead.”
Jacob joined them. “Where’s Aunt Doris?” he asked.
Karen frowned and hugged both of the children close. “She didn’t make it.” Tears blurred her burning eyes.
“She’s dead?” Leah asked in disbelief.
Karen nodded and looked to Jacob, who stood shaking his head. “How?” Jacob asked as if he didn’t believe her.
Karen felt a rush of guilt. “I had a hold of her, but she slipped away without me noticing. When I got outside, Aunt Doris wasn’t with me. Adrik tried to save her, but it was too late.”
Jacob turned away as Leah hugged Karen. “Will they be able to put the fire out?” she asked.
Jacob answered before Karen could speak. “It’s gonna burn to the ground.”
With this thought in mind, Karen gazed toward what she first thought was an illusion. But upon a second glance, she saw the man clearly and knew he was no illusion. Martin Paxton.
Paxton. The man who’d chased poor Grace all the way to Alaska in order to force her hand in marriage, their most embittered enemy, stood away from the gathered crowd. Leaning against the wall of another business, Paxton seemed to watch her with defined interest.
Karen straightened, stepping a few paces away from Adrik and the children. She barely heard his words suggesting she and the kids settle down for the night. Instead, she fixed her gaze on Paxton, knowing that he was aware that she was watching him. He tipped his hat to her as though they were attending a cotillion rather than observing a scene of devastation and death.
“He did this,” she murmured.
“What?” Adrik questioned. “What are you talking about?” He reached out to touch her arm.
Karen broke away from his hold and started toward Paxton. “He set the fire. He killed my aunt!”
Adrik took hold of her arm and pulled her back. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re just upset.”
She looked at him, feeling a growing panic. “You don’t understand. He’s getting his revenge for what we did. We snuck Grace out right under his nose. He intended to marry her, but Peter Colton married her instead. He warned us. He threatened to destroy us, and now he has.”
Adrik shook his head slowly. “No, he hasn’t. Not yet. But if you go to him now, he will have won. Don’t you see?”
Karen wanted to deny Adrik’s words as meaningless, but they hit hard and the truth of them rang clear, even in her crumbling reality. “He did this,” she whimpered, feeling the defeat of the moment wash over her. “He did this.”
Adrik never disputed her declaration but instead pulled her back into his arms. “Now is not the time for you to face him with accusations. He would only laugh at you—deny it. Come. See to Leah and Jacob. The morning will give you other thoughts on how to deal with this.”
Karen fell against him, her last remnants of strength ebbing in the flow of tears that fell. “He did this. It’s all his fault.”
SAN FRANCISCO HELD a charm for Grace Colton that she never would have thought possible. She’d always disliked the confines of her childhood city, Chicago, and the thought of another big city after enjoying the wilds of the Alaskan Territory had been less than welcoming to her heart. But San Francisco had surprised her. There was something rather Old World about it. A kind of antiquated appeal that wove its spell around the young woman.
Of course, it wasn’t just the city. Grace was in love with her new husband, and life seemed very good indeed. Peter Colton had a way of weaving his own charm in Grace’s heart, and despite the mounting differences of opinion on religious matters and household routines, Grace was content with her new life. At least most of the time.
Tying a ribboned cameo around her neck, Grace smoothed down the layered muslin gown and sighed. Life, overall, was quite wonderful. She tried not to let her heart be worried by the increasing number of arguments she and Peter were having. Surely all couples had their quibbles. Even Peter’s mother said it was true, adding also that her son was of a very stubborn cut of cloth.
“A ship’s captain has to be strong and determined,” Mrs. Colton had told her. “It’s only natural that a certain degree of stubbornness accompany those strengths.”
Grace supposed it was true, but she nevertheless found it a darkening shadow of doubt on her otherwise happy life. Had Martin Paxton not forced her hand, she probably wouldn’t have married Peter—though it wouldn’t have been for a lack of love, for she’d fallen in love with the man almost from the first moment they’d met. Rather, she knew the harm in marrying someone who didn’t see life the same way. The issue of being unequally yoked had been something she had talked about for years with her governess, Karen Pierce. Karen was a strong Christian, knowledgeable in Scriptures and their teachings. Karen had been the one to point out to Grace that the verse warning against unequal yoking pertained to every element of life. Be it business, friendship, or love, committing yourself to someone whose convictions differed from your own would inevitably spell trouble. There lacked a common ground upon which to make decisions.
Grace could see that problem now as she dealt with her new husband. She loved him faithfully, but his negative response to her love for God made Grace quite uneasy.
“But surely God hasn’t brought me this far only to leave me now,” she murmured.
Her faith bolstered her spirits. God had a plan in all of this, she was certain. He had watched over her since the first moment Martin Paxton had tried to force his way into her life. God wouldn’t desert her now. No, Grace’s marriage was intact for a purpose. She felt confident that she would bring Peter to God. She could change the way he thought about spiritual matters. She was sure of that. After all, Peter loved her, and he would want to see her happy. In time, he’d see the truth of it all.
Sitting down to her writing table, Grace outlined her morning to be spent in letter writing. She wanted to share many things with her dear friend Karen. While Karen would forever remain her most beloved friend, Grace was pleased to discover that Peter’s sister, Miranda, was a very amiable companion. The two women had grown quite close during the three months they lived together under the same roof. It helped to fill the void created by Karen’s absence.
Picking up a pen, Grace dated the top of her letter.
March
26, the year of our Lord 1898
. Then she paused. Instead of writing a greeting to her friend, Grace was compelled to turn her thoughts elsewhere. She had felt for some time that she’d left unfinished business in Alaska. Martin Paxton had been the reason she fled Chicago and also the reason she fled Alaska. Now she felt it was time to settle the matter once and for all. After all, her father-in-law had been longtime friends with Paxton. She knew her arrival into the family was putting a strain on that relationship, and she had no desire to perpetuate it further. Putting her pen to paper, she wrote a greeting.
Dear Mr. Paxton,
The days of strife are behind us now. It is my hope that you
have come to understand the importance of my choices and
decision. It is also my hope that you would know I have chosen
to forgive you the past
.
Grace stared at the words momentarily, searching her heart to ensure the truth behind them. Yes, she could forgive Martin Paxton. He might have been responsible for ruining her family financially. He might even be responsible for her father’s sudden onset of bad health and death. But Grace longed only for God’s peace to settle upon her life, and to do that, she knew there could be no remnants of hatred or bitterness. Karen had taught her this much. She continued,
I know that by now you must realize the truth of my circumstance
and marriage to Peter Colton. He is a dear man, as
your friendship with his family must have made you aware.
He is honorable and generous, trustworthy and truthful, and it
is my prayer that our marriage will prove to be blessed by God.
That brings me to another point upon which I cannot remain
silent. Mr. Paxton, you clearly harbor many painful
memories of my father. Your desire for justice and even revenge
on behalf of your departed mother are understandable. I am
sorry for the pain my father caused you, but you must remember
that people are fallible. Only God is without mistake. You
will never find what you are looking for until you make right
the path between you and your Maker. God is willing to hear
your confession. He desires that you would give up your ways
of anger and rage. He desires that you would turn to Him for
comfort and peace instead of manipulating others
.
“Ah, here is my lovely wife,” Peter Colton called as he entered the room.
Grace looked up to find her sandy-haired husband dressed in that same casual manner in which she’d first met him. A costume of billowing white shirt with sleeves rolled up and sides barely tucked into tailored navy trousers was set off by black knee boots and a jauntily tied neck scarf.
“Good morning, darling,” she said, setting the pen aside.
He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Nuzzling his lips against her neck, he murmured approvingly. “Fortune has smiled upon me.”
“I found myself counting God’s blessings this morning, as well,” Grace replied just before Peter’s lips captured her own in a deep, passionate kiss.
Grace felt her body warm under his touch, and a tingling sensation ran down her back as she thrilled to her husband’s obvious interest. She had not known that physical love could be so wonderful. She’d imagined the nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach every time she’d set eyes upon Peter to be love’s physical calling card. The sight of this man, well before they were married, could take her breath and set her heart to racing. She had presumed this was what passion and romance were all about. She was happy to be wrong.