“I’m glad you haven’t lumped them together,” Miranda replied.
A deep sensation of loneliness flooded Karen. She had been replaced by Miranda in Grace’s life. Grace had demonstrated such strength of character in dealing with Mr. Paxton and others around her that Karen felt almost like a student—she was no longer the teacher and mentor.
She couldn’t help but remember the stand Grace had taken with Paxton back in Dyea. She wasn’t afraid of the man in any way. She had simply taken a stand on her faith in God.
Have I only been playing a role?
Karen wondered silently. She had been raised in a loving Christian home and had never known a day when God wasn’t revered and honored. She had prayed almost before she’d learned any other form of communication. Had it all been for naught?
Grace has something I want,
she thought.
She has a grasp
of God that I cannot seem to take hold of. Yet I’m the one who
taught her. I’m the one who brought her into an understanding
of faith in Jesus. How can it be that she has grown so far beyond
me?
Miranda and Grace’s words had ceased, and Karen could only suppose they’d concluded their discussion. She entered the tent, grateful for the dim lantern light. It had been very thoughtful of them to leave it turned up so that she could see.
Karen prepared for bed quickly. The choices were limited and desiring to stay as warm as possible, she wasn’t about to worry about bathing or other notions. She turned down the lamp until the flame went out, then made her way to her pallet. Slipping into her sleeping bag, compliments of the latest shipment from Sears Roebuck, Karen snuggled down, relishing the feel of the sheep’s wool against her cold cheeks. The contraption had cost her thirteen dollars, an outrageous sum, but Adrik had thought it a worthwhile purchase. He’d reminded her that the product would eliminate the need to bring so many separate pieces of bedding. With that in mind, she’d purchased a bag for both herself and Leah. By the time Grace and Miranda had decided to join them, however, the bags were completely sold out.
But Adrik was ever to the rescue. He had procured heavy wool blankets and promised they’d work just as well. Karen prayed it was so. The nights could still be quite cold, as tonight was.
“Karen?” Grace’s whisper came through the silence of the night.
Surprised, but pleasantly so, Karen turned onto her side so that she might not disturb Leah, who slept behind her. “Yes?”
“Thank you for inviting me to come along. I don’t know what I would have done without you. The months away from you were . . . well . . . I missed you greatly. Miranda is a dear sister to me, but you were like a mother. I needed you then, just as I need you now. I just wanted you to know how very much I love you and thank God for you.”
Karen felt engulfed in her friend’s love. She felt a lump in her throat constrict her words. “That means so much,” she barely whispered.
Karen reached across the distance between them in the darkness. She touched Grace’s shoulder and followed the contour of her arm down to her hand. There, Karen clasped their hands together.
“Grace, I want to pray with you and Miranda. I know I haven’t worked through all my feelings yet, but I know that prayer is where I must begin. I need help, however. Would you and Miranda stand by me?”
“But of course,” Grace whispered as if there had never been any doubt of Karen’s decision.
Karen felt Grace tighten her hold. Without meaning to bring up the past, Karen said, “I see he never bought you a ring.”
“No, he never did,” Grace replied.
“I’m sorry, Grace. I’m sorry things have been so bad. I’m sorry Peter is so angry, and I’m sorry I helped to fuel that anger.”
“Mr. Paxton has a way of bringing out the worst in all of us,” Grace murmured. “It should be no different for you or Peter.”
“He brought out the best in you,” Karen replied. “I still have the vision of you standing up to him in defiance. It reminded me of David and Goliath.”
“Me too. I kept thinking of David’s declaration. ‘Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts. . . .’ I felt the strength soar through me and imagined what David must have felt being in the presence of God’s mighty protection and power.”
Karen breathed a sigh and knew that God had given
her
that display of power as much as he had Mr. Paxton. He wanted her to know He was still God and He understood her pain and suffering. He wanted her to know that He had not forsaken them nor handed them over to the wicked—to Paxton.
“Good night, Grace,” Karen said, giving her friend’s hand another squeeze before pulling back to snuggle back down into her bag. “You are truly the image of your name, and I thank God for the honor of calling you friend.”
————
The next morning Adrik was surprised to find Joe hunched over the campfire, talking to a long forgotten friend.
“Crispin Thibault!” Adrik called out as he bounded from the tent. “In all the world I never thought I’d find you here.” He laughed heartily and waited as the man stood in greeting before wrapping him in a big bear hug.
“Adrik Ivankov, still the bear of the north, I see,” Crispin said with a laugh that betrayed his absolute delight. “I saw Joe and figured you had to be close by. Then I spied your red-and-white flag and knew it had to be you.” Crispin pointed to the strip of material Adrik kept tied to his tent flap. This same type of material was tied to the caches that represented the group’s supplies.
Adrik had used the red-and-white material to mark his tent since he’d been a boy. His father had taught him this simple method for identification. It was almost as good as paint- ing numbers on the doorpost of a house, and in some ways it was even better. Friends knew each others’ markings, while strangers had no idea of the significance.
“What brings you back to Alaska?” Adrik questioned.
Crispin shrugged. “Gold—what else? I was residing very comfortably in the house of one of my French cousins when all this gold rush news came to entice us. I thought, why not travel north and see my old friend Adrik? I figured I’d find you in Sitka but heard tell you’d taken to living on the coast at Dyea.”
Adrik nodded. “Been there a little over six years, off and on. I still travel more than I stay in one place. That’s why I live in a tent instead of a house.”
“You should come to stay with my French cousins,” Crispin teased. “You’d not willingly go back to tenting.”
“Maybe you have a point at that. So what news have you brought us? The communications are poor up here. We’re lucky if we get a newspaper from Seattle now and then. What of the problems with Spain?”
“Well, let me think,” Crispin said, looking rather thoughtful. “President McKinley has called for seventy-five thousand more volunteers to help out with this misunderstanding.”
“It’s a bit more than a misunderstanding. They blew up the
Maine
,” Adrik replied. “We can’t be havin’ that.”
“The rest of the world, including your Russia, has asked President McKinley for a peaceful end to this matter.”
“It’s not my Russia. I’m an American. I was born in this territory and plan to remain here,” Adrik said, adding, “This land has been pretty good to the both of us, and it didn’t happen by letting other folks push us around.”
“Be that as it may, America may well fight this war alone.”
“I’m sure we won’t fight alone,” Adrik replied with great confidence. “We’ll fight with God on our side.”
Crispin laughed. “You Americans are always believing such nonsense. I think winning your revolution went to your heads.”
“You sound like an Englishman.”
“Forbid that!” Crispin declared rather dramatically. “My dear departed mother would swoon if she heard it said that I remotely resembled those tyrants. She’d rather I be called an American!”
“Now, that’s a thought,” Adrik said, slapping Crispin on the back with a hearty laugh.
“What’s all the commotion?” Karen asked as she emerged from her tent. Miranda Colton was on her heels, tucking her long braided hair into the confines of a warm wool bonnet.
“Come meet my good friend Crispin Thibault,” Adrik called. He motioned to Karen and Miranda. “I’ve not seen him in, what? Seven years?”
“To be sure,” Crispin replied, his gaze fixed on the ladies. “My, but you travel in much prettier company than when I left you.”
Adrik laughed. “There’s two more just as pretty inside the tent, but these will do for starts. This is Karen Pierce and Miranda Colton.”
Crispin drew his six-foot-three-inch frame to full attention, then gave a deep bow. “Ladies, I am charmed.” He straightened and grinned at Adrik. “You are a man of many surprises.”
“Not half as many as you, my old friend,” Adrik leaned closer to Karen and added, “It is rumored that our Mr. Thibault is in line for the throne of some small European principality.”
“How very interesting,” Karen said, nudging Miranda. “We’re in the presence of royalty.”
“Nonsense!” Crispin declared rather theatrically. He waved his arm and lifted his face to the cloudy skies. “It is a very minor principality, indeed, and my place in line is a dozen or more cousins away from ever being crowned.” He lowered his face and leaned toward Karen as though he would tell her a great secret. “Perhaps if I strike it rich, however, I may yet buy myself a throne.”
Miranda giggled and even Karen smiled.
“So who are you traveling with?” Adrik asked, not entirely happy to find Crispin’s attention so strongly focused on Karen.
“I came up with a rather disgruntled group who call themselves by the family name of Meyer. I dare say, I’ve little desire to go the course with these very unpleasant folk and thought I’d appeal to you, Adrik. Might I join you and your . . .” his voice fell away as Grace and Leah pushed back the flaps of the tent and joined Miranda and Karen. They looked to Adrik as if questioning him about Crispin’s identity. Crispin leaned closer to Adrik and added, “Gentle women?”
Karen turned to Grace and Leah. “This is Adrik’s friend Mr. Thibault. He is of some European aristocracy, and we must be very nice to him, as he plans to buy himself a throne.”
“Oh!” Leah said, her mouth round in surprise. “Are you a king?”
Crispin laughed and bowed low before Leah. “Not at all, but I dare say, you are surely a princess.”
Leah’s expression fell and her frown surprised them all. She turned rather abruptly and ran off toward the river, leaving them all in stunned surprise.
“What was that all about?” Adrik questioned, looking to Karen for answers.
“Her father is believed dead,” Karen said, looking to Crispin. “He used to call her that. I’ll go talk to her.”
“No, please, allow me,” Crispin begged. “For I am the offending person.”
“You are also a stranger,” Karen replied.
Crispin smiled and pulled the woolen cap from atop his head. “I do not wish to be a stranger to either of you. I would be most stricken, however, if you refused me this. I feel quite bad for having hurt the young lady.”
Karen looked to the tent and then to Adrik. Adrik nodded, knowing she was looking for his approval of the situation. “Her name is Leah Barringer and she’s just turned thirteen. I do not believe she’s very well acquainted with the . . . shall we say . . . charms of aristocracy.” She eyed the taller man with great intensity, and Adrik might have laughed out loud had the matter not involved the child’s feelings. Crispin was no threat to anyone; he knew that as well as he knew his own name. The man was one of the most sensitive and caring fellows Adrik had ever known, in fact, and should Karen deny his request, Adrik knew it would have cast a cloud of despair over his friend.
“I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of your trust, my dear lady.” He lifted her hand and placed a kiss atop her fingers.
Karen, still very serious about the entire matter, nodded as Crispin lifted his gaze. “Very well.”
Crispin pulled his cap back on and headed after Leah. Adrik followed the gaze of the three women as they watched him disappear into the woods. He then observed as each woman looked to the others with grins that suggested they knew a secret he had not been privy to.
“My, my,” Grace spoke first. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone quite like him.”
“Me neither,” Miranda replied. “Did you see his hair? All those lovely black curls.”
“And his eyes,” Karen added. “Such a dark blue, yet so bright and full of laughter.”
“And such a regal bearing. Why, I’ve no doubt he must be from the lineage of kings,” Miranda said, straining to catch another glimpse of the man.
Adrik rolled his eyes. Women! What a lot of nonsense. He could personally run circles around Crispin Thibault. The man possessed great endurance and courage, there was no doubt about that. And he was charming and quite the orator when necessary, but he wasn’t anything that special. Scratching his chin, Adrik listened to the three women chatter on and on. At first he’d been happy to see Crispin, but maybe his initial joy would be short-lived. After all, he had no intention of fighting his friend for Karen’s affection, yet she seemed just as enthralled as Miranda and Grace Colton.
“We’re going to be striking camp in thirty minutes,” he said after hearing his fill. “I’m not waitin’ on anyone.”
He doubted they’d even heard him, for not one of the women acknowledged him. Walking away, he met Joe’s stoic expression and shook his head. “You’ve got black hair, and I never saw them get all swoony over you.”
Joe pulled off the white bowler and rubbed his head. “Got no curls.”
Adrik grinned. “Me neither. But I’ve got my sights fixed on having a bunch of redheaded children someday, so I guess me and Mr. Curlylocks better have us a talk.”
DAY AFTER DAY the little band of travelers pushed forward along with hundreds of other weary souls. Karen, Grace, and Miranda rose early every morning to pray, and it wasn’t long before Leah was joining them, as well. Whatever Crispin had said to her had remained between her and the aristocratic traveler. But her spirits were much improved, and she shared Crispin’s company very easily.