“It seems we are interrupting,” Crispin said goodnaturedly. He leaned close to whisper, “I wonder how long it will take until they both realize they are in love?”
Miranda giggled, but Crispin’s warm breath against her ear caused a shiver of delight to run up her spine. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she replied without thinking, “but perhaps we should invest in another tent.”
Crispin laughed out loud. “What a woman. Your thoughts could well be my own.”
Miranda suddenly realized how inappropriate her remark sounded. “I only . . . well . . . I meant that should they marry. . . .” She gave up when she saw that her words only served to amuse Crispin all the more.
“I knew exactly what you meant, my dear. I was thinking much the same.”
They watched Adrik march off as if to war, while Karen stood looking after him in dumbfounded silence.
“Ah, true love,” Crispin said, nudging Miranda. “Theirs will be a match for all eternity.”
Miranda nodded, but the statement made her feel suddenly very empty. “I think I’d better take these eggs and see about supper.” She held up the small basket where only moments ago she had placed the two precious eggs. Paying a dollar for the two, Miranda thought they might as well have been golden eggs.
She left Crispin and hurried to where they had set up a makeshift kitchen under a canvas awning. The awning had been stretched out between the two tents and made a nice, almost cozy living area in the evening and a wonderful kitchen in the daytime. At night Adrik would lower additional pieces of canvas from the sides and create the effect of walls. Then, by tying the canvas strips to the tents, he closed them off from the rest of the world and allowed the heat of the stove to warm both tents. At least it warmed them marginally.
Miranda actually liked the cold weather and enjoyed the crisp feel to the air. She’d heard one man say that winter was due to come early this year, and she thought that was marvelous. She wanted to see the snow stacked ten and twenty feet deep, as Crispin had spoken of. He had traveled the world and had seen all manner of things, and it thrilled Miranda to the core of her being. How wonderful to simply travel at will and see the world and all that it had to offer.
“Were you able to get any eggs?” Leah asked as Miranda approached.
“I was able to buy two, and they were quite expensive,” Miranda replied. “But for one of your cakes, Leah, I know it was worth the price.”
Leah didn’t respond with the excitement Miranda had anticipated. “They work a whole sight better than those powdered ones we brought along.”
“You’re a good cook, Leah. You’ll have us all forgetting the cost before the end of the meal.”
Leah merely nodded and went to work. Taking the eggs from Miranda’s basket, she cracked them into a bowl. Miranda’s heart ached for the young girl. Leah had prayed so passionately that morning, pleading with God for the safe return of her brother. Miranda couldn’t help but speak a similar prayer. They were bound in a strange way by their wayward male siblings. And until that morning, Miranda had never truly realized the connection.
“Leah,” she said, knowing that she had to share this thought with the girl, “you and I are very much alike.”
Leah looked up from her work and coughed lightly. “What do you mean?”
“Our brothers,” Miranda replied.
Leah shook her head. “I know Jacob and Peter knew each other, but I don’t see how that makes us alike.”
Miranda moved closer and smiled. “We are both longing for our brothers to come back. Your brother has gone north, mine has gone away without any word of his whereabouts. You love your brother and I love mine. Both are important people in our lives, and both hold our hearts in a special way.”
“I see,” Leah replied, turning her attention back to the cake.
Miranda reached out to stop her for a moment. “I know how hard it is. I know you’re worried and that you can scarcely think of anything else. I know you wonder about your father and long to know the truth.
“When I heard you pray this morning, I realized the words could have been from my own mouth. I long for Peter to return home, just as you need to find Jacob.”
Leah’s eyes filled with tears. Miranda reached up to wipe away the drops as they fell onto the girl’s cheek. “My mother always said that a burden shared makes the load less heavy. I will share this burden with you if you will let me.”
Leah wrapped her arms around Miranda’s waist. “Thank you, Miranda. Sometimes it just scares me so much. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.”
Miranda stroked Leah’s hair and sighed. “I know. I fear sometimes that I’ll never see my brother again.” Just then Miranda looked up and saw Grace standing not five feet away. Her expression made it clear that she’d overheard a good portion of their words.
Miranda decided to speak from her heart. “When I get very afraid, I pray that God will give me strength to endure and that He will take away my fear and help me to remember that He loves me.”
She smiled at Grace and hoped that she would remember that long ago she had once spoken similar words to Miranda. The moment had been when Miranda had feared God might never send her a husband Peter would approve of. Her heart had been close to breaking at the thought of never knowing true love. Grace had comforted her with those very words.
Grace nodded, as if remembering the moment herself. She slipped off between neighboring camps and disappeared from sight while Leah raised her head and offered Miranda a weak smile. “My mama always said that I should come and tell her when I was afraid. She said that God was always with us and that when we’re afraid, the Psalms said we could trust in Him.”
“Your mother sounds like she was a very wise woman—and a very loving mother.”
Leah drew a ragged breath and laid her head back against Miranda’s shoulder. “She was a wonderful mother. My pa was a good father, too. Even though he left us, he still loved us.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Miranda replied, her heart filled with love for the girl. How very much she would have liked to have a little sister like Leah. Perhaps that was the reason God had allowed her to come on this journey. He knew Leah would need her. Even more, God knew Miranda would need Leah.
————
Adrik stood back with a great deal of pride and no small amount of reservation. The flat-bottomed scow he and Crispin had completed sat afloat in Lake Lindeman without the slightest hint of taking on water.
“It would appear, my friend, we have built a seaworthy craft,” Crispin said joyfully.
“It would seem that way,” Adrik replied, continuing to check every inch of the deck for some sign of a problem. Apparently the oakum and pitch caulking was holding well.
The flat-bottomed scow was exactly what they needed to take them north to the goldfields. Adrik knew the boat would easily accommodate their passengers and tons of goods within its forty-two-foot length. What he was less convinced of was whether or not the women would have the strength to help row and pole as they passed through the rapids.
Then, too, he’d already been warned that even with a sturdy square sail rigged to the bow mast, he’d be a fool to rely on the winds and currents alone. The doldrums, it seemed, were quite common on the still waters of the larger lakes. And when storms came up without warning, as they were wont to do, the oars would be necessary to make it to the safety of the shore. Could he and Crispin handle it alone?
“Face it, my friend,” Crispin said, slapping Adrik’s back, “you’ve built a masterpiece. Michelangelo couldn’t have done better.”
“Well, I don’t know who he is,” Adrik said, blowing out a breath of relief, “but I almost wish he were here to help us sail her.”
Crispin laughed, then surprised Adrik by waving. Turning, he saw that Crispin was bidding welcome to the women, who stood watching from shore. “So what do you think?” Crispin called out.
“It looks awfully small,” Karen called back. “Are you sure it’s going to hold us all?”
“It’s bigger than you think,” Adrik answered. “Just wait until tomorrow. You’ll see for yourself.”
“It’s nothing short of a floating palace,” Crispin announced, and the ladies laughed.
Adrik gazed heavenward and shook his head. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that, but it’s floating and that’s what counts.”
“Well, it cost as much as a palace,” Karen called out from the shore. “Who would have ever thought pitch would cost seven dollars a pound?”
By now a crowd had gathered to see the finished masterpiece by Adrik Ivankov. They laughed at Karen’s statement and threw out comments of their own.
“No worse than paying a dollar a pound for nails!”
“If you can get them!”
“You can’t even get lumber for building, and the trees to cut are five miles away.”
“And it helps if you know how to build with them when you get them,” another poor soul called out. At this everyone laughed, and even Adrik stopped fretting momentarily and joined the fun.
“Well, perhaps I would do better to open a boat-building school rather than to head north to the goldfields,” he replied.
“No doubt the money would be better,” Karen said, laughing.
“Well, be that as it may,” Adrik said, putting his hands to his hips, “are you ladies ready to leave in the morning?”
“I was ready to leave a week ago,” Karen answered. He watched her turn to the others. “Come on, we’ve got some packing to do. I know this captain of ours, and he’s the pushy sort. If we aren’t ready, he’ll leave without us.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” Adrik said, laughing, but he didn’t mean a word of it.
The excitement of his accomplishment finally outweighed his worry. Looking to Crispin, he nodded. “We’ve got ourselves a boat, and she looks to be all that we could hope for.”
LATE AUGUST 1898
It was meet that we should make
merry, and be glad:
for this thy brother was dead, and
is alive again; and was lost,
and is found.
L
uke 15:32
TRAVERSING LAKE LINDEMAN proved to be an easy, almost carefree trip. The biggest problem was avoiding the other twenty or more boats that were attempting to launch at the same time. There was nearly a carnival-type atmosphere as the various pilots steered in one direction and then another. It soon became quite clear who had prior experience in boating. Adrik, steeped in years of childhood sailing and fishing, took to the water with great ease. Even Crispin, for all his upper-society manners, was quite adept on the boat. The boat itself proved to be a seaworthy vessel. The shrinkage of the raw lumber remained minimal, and the rocky passageways caused little damage.
Karen thought Adrik’s worry was all for naught as the One Mile Rapids and Lake Bennett soon became nothing more than exciting memories. After registering their boat in Bennett, along with scores of other desperate souls, the party pushed on and made exceptional time. Even Adrik had to admit that God was smiling on them. They’d managed to keep the boat clear of most obstacles, and even when the waters had grown rough, it was almost as if an unseen hand had maneuvered them through the dangers.
The little scow proved to be much bigger than Karen had originally believed. Once they’d positioned the smaller of their two tents in the middle of the boat and set up their provisions around those canvas walls, Karen felt they were living rather well. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t anything luxurious, but it was better than most.
But perhaps most surprising of all, Karen enjoyed life upon the water. She enjoyed the passing scenery and the glorious colors of the changing seasons. There was something simply marvelous about moving to a new place every day. After living a life of rigid convention in Chicago for the ten years prior to coming north, the Yukon offered a sort of liberty that appealed to Karen. She didn’t even mind the frost that touched most everything that morning.
Winter’s clutches were approaching, yet Karen refused to let her spirits be defeated. She thought of her mother’s letters describing Alaskan winters—bitterly cold and deep snows. Yukon winters were surely the same, and having survived the long dark season in Dyea only the year before, Karen was convinced she could manage the days to come.
That night Karen slipped away from her tent and found Adrik sitting near the small campfire they’d enjoyed earlier in the evening. She smiled at him and pulled her coat together to ward off the chill.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “I’m much too excited.”
“We’re doing well,” he admitted. “I had my concerns, but I have to say things are going along better than I could have planned.”
“Hand of God,” she whispered.
He glanced up. “Is that a question?”
Karen folded her arms and looked to the skies. “You needn’t worry about me. I’m all right.” She stated the words, knowing he would understand, but was surprised when he questioned her further.
“What do you mean, you’re all right?”
Karen wondered if he needed to hear her confess she had yielded her will. Why was it that God and Adrik Ivankov always demanded she completely surrender her innermost secrets?
“Why don’t you sit down here beside me,” Adrik suggested, “and tell me exactly what’s on your mind?”
Karen hesitated for a moment. Could she trust herself with Adrik? She knew her heart in the matter. She wanted very much to declare her love for him, but she was so uncertain of how he might respond. He obviously found her desirable, but love—now, that was a different story. Could he really love her? And if he did, what would that love require of her?
She inched closer and knelt down beside the fire. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve yielded my anger to God.” She stared into the fire rather than risk Adrik’s eyes. “You’ve so often borne the brunt of that anger and had to keep me from making a fool of myself—
” “On more than one occasion,” Adrik interjected with a laugh.
She turned to him and saw that he intended only to lighten her mood. “Yes, well, I thank you for that. I know I can be difficult at times.”
Adrik nodded. “That’s what your pa always said.”