Jonas smiled. “I can well understand how ya feel. A good woman completes a man—makes him see what’s been missin’ in his life. God said it wasn’t good for man to be alone, and it sure as well ain’t.”
Peter looked at Jonas, and an aching filled his heart. “Jonas, tell me about your God. Tell me why He should care about someone like me—why He should forgive me or need my adoration. Religion makes no sense to me.”
“Me neither,” Jonas said with a laugh. “All that mumbo jumbo and risin’ up and sittin’ down. I could never carry a tune, so I didn’t figure it made much sense to put myself in a place that made a point of havin’ singin’.” He put the pipe aside and shook his head. “Knowin’ God has nothin’ to do with religion.”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t understand. Grace went to church every Sunday and read her Bible all the time. She wanted the same for me, and I couldn’t give it to her. She wanted me to forgive Martin Paxton. I couldn’t see the sense in that, either.”
“Your little wife went to church because it pleased her to do so. She no doubt had friends there and folks who were of a like mind. That’s fellowshipin’, and I don’t mind that one bit. But you can’t box God into a buildin’. He’s everywhere, Peter. He most prefers to be here.” He pounded his chest for a moment. “Right here, in your heart.”
“I just don’t know,” Peter said, getting to his feet once again. “It doesn’t make sense to me. All I can think about is my family. I need to know if my father is well, if my mother is safe. I need to know where my sister is and what she’s doing. And I need Grace.”
“In more ways than you realize,” Jonas said with a grin. “My advice to you is to skedaddle out of this place and go home. Start with your folks. And maybe on the ship ride home, you could have a word or two with the Almighty. I’m thinkin’ He’d be pleased to listen to the matter if you were of a mind to tell Him about it.”
THE RIDE DOWN Miles Canyon was like nothing Karen Pierce had ever experienced. Thrown first one way and then the other, she had been as surprised as Adrik to fly out of the tent and land at his feet.
“Stay put!” Adrik yelled, his face contorting in anger.
Karen had no intention of going anywhere, but as the boat lurched and crashed upon a projection of rock, she rolled across the deck. No sooner had she reached the right side of the scow when the entire platform seemed to shift directions. Without a hope of stopping herself, Karen rolled across to the left side of the boat. Only this time, there was nothing to grab on to and she felt herself slipping over the side.
“Adrik!” she screamed, her fingers slipping on the watery deck.
She couldn’t see him or even know if he’d heard her. She felt the waves push them up into the air, and before she could so much as snap her fingers, the boat slammed back down in the water. For a long moment, she seemed to be suspended in the air, wondering if there would even be a deck to come back down to. But there was. Thrown against the hard wood, Karen again found herself hopelessly rolling to the right.
If ever there was a moment of reckoning, Karen Pierce found one in this moment. Catching sight of Adrik frantically working to keep the boat from the canyon walls, Karen knew he had no way to help her. The same was true of Crispin, as well as the young man who handled the sweep. There was no one to cry out to—no one but God.
“Oh, God, help me!” she cried out as the icy water poured over the side. She felt herself slipping, sliding ever closer to the edge. Why hadn’t Adrik built a rail around this deck?
“Hold on!” she heard the stranger sound above the thundering rapids.
But there was nothing solid to hold on to. She couldn’t quite reach the tent, and that would have offered her very little in the way of support anyway. Then Karen spied one of the benches Adrik had nailed to the deck to offer relief from the tent or standing about on deck. If she could make it to the bench, she might be able to wrap herself around it and hope for the best.
Please, God, help me. Don’t let me die without telling him
how much I love him,
Karen thought. She continued her prayer as she fought to make her way across the deck.
Father, I know
I’ve held a grudge, and I’m sorry. Please don’t drown me here in
the river just to punish my stupidity
.
Inching her way to the structure, Karen felt only a marginal amount of relief as her hands grasped the bench. “Thank you, God!” She sighed and clung to the bench as though it were the most precious gift in all the world. And for all the most important reasons, it was.
Glancing up, Karen saw that Adrik stood only a few feet away. His expression told Karen he was anything but happy to see her—either that or he was angry at the Whitehorse Rapids.
Never mind,
she thought as the boat rose up on a wave and crashed down again. Water seemed to explode around them, dousing them both.
He’ll get over it. He’ll see why I had to come
when I explain the matter to him
.
Water poured across the deck, drenching Karen’s heavy wool skirt. Earlier she’d slipped away from the other women, pretending to want to be alone, and so they’d believe her to be returning, she’d left her coat and taken only the knitted wool shawl Aunt Doris had given her last Christmas. Wrapped up in that and wearing a long-sleeved white blouse, Karen felt the icy water bite into her skin as if it had teeth.
The deck pitched back and forth while the bow forced its way through the water. As she managed to figure out the best way to secure herself, Karen realized she was having a wonderful time. The waves and water, the canyon walls—it was all rather like a carousel ride gone mad.
Laughing, she looked up to find Adrik fighting with a long thick pole. She had no idea what he was doing but surmised he was probably helping to keep the boat from crashing against the rocky cliffs.
Then, almost before the ride had begun, the waters calmed, and Karen found them heading to shore. She whispered a prayer of thanksgiving, seeing for herself that they were all still in one piece—as was the boat. The latter was a critical issue, almost on equal footing with their own safety. There was still a great distance to head via water, and they would need the scow to get them through. As they approached the land, Crispin caught sight of her and laughed.
“Where in the world did you come from? Drop down from the skies, did you?”
Karen nodded and pulled her wet body up to the top of the bench. “I felt as though I had.”
“So we have a stowaway,” the pilot said, taking note of Karen. “Women don’t know what’s good for them. They ain’t gonna like it one bit that you broke the rules and rode down the rapids.”
“Tell them to throw her into jail,” Adrik said, turning away to help secure the scow at the makeshift dock.
Karen knew she’d have her work cut out with him. She stood and tried to wring out some of the water from her shawl. Crispin offered to help her, and while he took charge of her wrap, Karen worked on the bottom of her skirt.
She looked at Crispin rather conspiratorially and whispered, “That was the most fun I think I’ve ever had. Of course, I thought for a minute that I was going to go right over the side. God seemed to just pluck me right up. But as dangerous as it seemed, I’d do it again in a minute!”
He nodded toward Adrik. “Looks like there’s going to be quite a price to pay.”
She looked over to where Adrik stood scowling at them and said, “I suppose I should attempt to unruffle his feathers.”
“I think it will take more than that,” Crispin replied. “But a word of advice, my dear.”
Karen leaned closer. “Yes?”
“Never underestimate your feminine charms.”
Karen grinned. “Why, Crispin Thibault, what a splendid suggestion.”
She forgot her shawl and sauntered rather boldly up to where Adrik stood. Her legs were a little wobbly after the or- deal, but she steadied herself and grinned. “Permission to go ashore, sir,” she said in a teasing manner.
Adrik stepped from the scow and pulled her with him onto the deck. Then without warning he hoisted her unceremoniously over one shoulder and stalked off away from the river.
Karen tried to raise herself up, but Adrik’s steps were bouncing her around something fierce. She caught sight of Grace and Miranda, who stood to one side with Leah. They looked at her as if to question this latest escapade, but Karen couldn’t even so much as shrug.
“Adrik, put me down!” she protested as his long strides took them farther from the shore. He crossed the tramline and headed deeper into the forest, all while Karen pounded on his back to get his attention. “Adrik, I mean it. Put me down.” This ride was almost as perilous as the course on the rapids.
They were well away from the crowd by now, and Karen couldn’t see a single sign of civilization. All around her were spruce and pine trunks and vegetation that had begun its autumnal transformation. Then, as quickly as he had hoisted her to his shoulder, Adrik dumped her onto the ground. Her bottom smacked against the hard earth, causing the wind to go out of Karen in a great whoosh.
Gasping, she managed to sputter, “How . . . how . . .
dare
you!”
“How dare me? How dare
you
!” he countered. “You were told to stay off the boat. You were told to go with the other women. You were told a great many things, but you refused to listen.”
He turned as if to go, then attacked again. “Do you realize you could have been killed?”
“Of course . . .”
“Do you give any consideration to those who travel with you?”
“Yes, you know I—”
“I can’t believe,” he said, stalking toward her, hands outstretched, “that you would put your life in danger.” He pulled her into the air and dropped her back on her feet.
“Adrik, I can explain!” she said, demanding to be heard.
“You can explain!” He turned away and paced. “You can explain that you gave little thought to the laws of the land—to your authority? You can explain that you took matters into your own hands and disregarded everything I said to you?”
Karen could see there would be no talking to him. He wasn’t at all willing to listen. Shaking the dirt and debris from the back of her skirt, she let him rant and rave. His righteous indignation, however, did much to lighten her spirits. He loved her. He would never have reacted this way if he didn’t. His anger was born of fear. Fear for her. Fear that she might have died or gotten injured. Smiling, she lifted her face and waited for him to conclude.
“You could have been killed. You could have easily been swept overboard, and you very nearly were. Do you know that my heart actually stopped beating when I saw you struggling at the side and knew I could do nothing to save you without jeopardizing everyone else? The rapids have claimed many a life. The Canadian authorities wouldn’t have seen fit to make laws regarding that particular passage on the river if it hadn’t been for their desire to keep folks alive. But you . . .” He turned to look at her and stopped. “What are you smiling about? Do you think this is funny?”
“You’re funny,” she replied. “You won’t let me talk or even attempt to explain. All you want to do is yell.”
“You bet I want to yell. There’s absolutely nothing you can say that will make one bit of difference to me.” He shrugged out of his wet coat and tossed it aside. Rolling up his sleeves, Karen actually wondered for a moment what he had planned for her. His well-muscled arms strained against the drenched flannel of his shirt sleeves. It was little wonder, she thought, that he could throw her so easily over his shoulder.
Karen opened her mouth to speak, but again he silenced her.
He held up his hand. “There’s nothing you can say. Nothing!”
“I beg to differ with you. I think there is something I can say. Something very important, and if you would settle down and stop being so pigheaded, I might get a chance to say it.” She put her hands on her hips, not caring that she must look a sight.
Adrik waved his arm in front of him. “By all means, have your say. What in the world do you think could possibly explain what you just did?”
“I love you,” Karen said matter-of-factly. She smiled and shrugged. “I love you. I think that says it all.”
He looked at her as if dumbfounded. His dark eyes simply looked her up and down before he began shaking his head. “That’s just great. That only makes matters worse.”
“What?” Karen exclaimed. “How can you say my love makes matters worse? I know you love me, too. Tell me that you don’t.”
Adrik looked at her as if she’d suddenly gone daft. “Of course I love you!” he yelled. “That’s what makes it so awful.”
Karen laughed. “I must have hit my head on that boat ride, because you aren’t making any sense to me at all.”
He crossed the distance between them in two strides and took hold of her. Shaking her hard, he said, “This is nothing to laugh about. I love you so much that I would have spent the rest of my days with a broken heart had anything happened to you. Don’t you understand? This is a deadly land, and you are playing at it like a child with a puppy. Instead of a puppy, you’re dealing with a grizzly bear, and you don’t even know the difference.”
He let her go but didn’t move away. Karen thought of what Crispin had said and reached up to touch the side of his cheek. The stubble of a two-day growth of beard scratched her hand as she ran her fingers along his jaw.
“I love you. You mean the world to me, as well,” she said softly. She lifted her face and prayed he’d see the sincerity in her eyes. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. You must understand—I kept hearing all the stories of death and destruction. I couldn’t bear for you to go without me.”
“But if you knew the risk, why would you do that?” he asked, his voice low and guarded.
Karen wrapped her arms around his neck and laced her fingers together. “Because, my darling man, I would rather die at your side than live without you.” She stretched up on her toes and placed a kiss upon his unresponsive lips. “Don’t you see? I had to go with you. I couldn’t bear to be left behind and know that I might never see you again.”
She heard his breath catch in his throat as he grabbed her and buried his face against her neck. Sighing, Karen knew things would be all right. She clung to him as he wrapped her in a fierce embrace.