“I married Peter for all the wrong reasons,” Grace said softly. “I thought I needed to help God. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”
Karen overturned a packing crate and sat down on it. “You did what seemed best. What we all thought best.”
“But it wasn’t right. There were too many crucial differences between us, and I knew that. I knew Peter hated talk of the Bible and of my faith. I knew it was a source of contention between us.” She looked up, her brown eyes red-rimmed from her tears. “I dishonored God by marrying a man who had no respect for Him. Now I’m bearing the punishment of that.”
“No, Grace,” Karen said, reaching out to take hold of her hand. “Maybe you are enduring the consequences, but I don’t believe God is punishing you. We are only human. We are fearful and weak. We make choices that aren’t always God directed, but we do what we can—what we must.
“God is a loving, merciful God. I know that, even though I wanted to forget it or, better still, deny it. When Aunt Doris died, after I’d already lost Father and Mother, I felt so deserted. You were gone and I was very much alone. You had been my sole companion for over ten years. You were like a daughter and sister and friend all wrapped up in one person. But when you went away, I found an emptiness bigger than any I had ever known—even with my parents.”
Grace clung to her hand. “I missed you terribly after I’d gone. I loved Peter most dearly, but he was often too busy for me. Then there was the matter of our differences.” She sighed. “Oh, Karen, every time the issue of God and His love for us and our need for Him came up, Peter simply could not bear my company. I became most undesirable to my own husband.”
“Apparently you weren’t too undesirable,” Karen said, trying hard to make Grace’s mood lighter. “You are carrying his child.”
“Don’t remind me,” Grace replied. She looked away as if ashamed. “I know that only God says when a soul lives or dies, but I don’t understand why He would give this union a child. How very disappointed He must be in me.”
“Nonsense,” Karen answered. “Where is that strength of character I saw when you faced Martin Paxton in Dyea? I could hardly believe it. The Spirit of the Lord simply seemed to overcome you and fill that entire room. I felt almost as if I were standing on holy ground.”
“I try to not battle this on my own,” Grace said. “I know from everything you’ve taught me and from all that God has shown me in Scripture that He has a plan in all of this. That He has never turned away from me or left me to fight this alone. I know that He will give me the strength to endure whatever I must, but . . .”
“But what?” Karen asked, confused by Grace’s words.
Grace looked up, her eyes flooding with tears once again. “I love my husband. I love Peter more than life, and if he has no desire to be my mate, then I might as well die. This child, too.”
A shudder coursed through Karen. She had never heard her friend talk in such a way. It frightened her terribly. “Don’t say that,” she admonished. “I would be overwhelmed with grief if you were to die.”
“I’m sorry I’ve ruined your wedding day,” Grace murmured before breaking into sobs. She buried her face in her hands and cried softly.
Karen drew Grace into her arms. “You haven’t ruined anything.”
Holding Grace while she cried, Karen began to pray unselfishly for God to intercede.
I know I’ve been far too compelled
to worry about myself and my feelings
, she told God.
I know
that I’ve been a difficult and disobedient daughter, but, Father,
this child needs your touch. She needs to feel that you have not
forsaken her because of her decision to marry. Please, Father,
please show her that you are with her
.
Grace rested her head against Karen’s shoulder for a moment, her tears abating. “I feel so foolish.”
“Why?”
She lifted her head and squared her shoulders. “I feel foolish because I know better than to give in to these feelings. You taught me that God is with me through the bad and the good. I know He is faithful.”
“It doesn’t mean that we won’t have our moments of weakness. As I said before, we’re only human. Look at how I acted. I knew it was wrong to blame God for the bad in my life. I knew it was wrong to bear Him, who loved me so much, a grudge.” Karen felt her chest tighten. She hadn’t really thought of her relationship with God as the same as that of her earthly father. Had she acted that way with her earthly father, it would have surely broken his heart and left him in utter despair. Was that how it was for God? Did He weep when His children called Him unjust?
“Look,” Karen continued, “we’ll pen a letter to Peter. We’ll send it on the first available post. There won’t be time for him to get north before the winter freeze, so that much can’t be helped. I’ll see you through this, however. Adrik and I will make a home for you as long as you need. When the baby comes, we’ll help you through that, as well. Then in the spring, we’ll get you home to Peter.”
Grace shook her head. “But what if he doesn’t want me home? And maybe worse yet, what if he does, but his heart is still bitter toward God? Maybe it’s best that we remain separated.”
Karen considered that thought for a moment. “Perhaps you married for the wrong reasons, Grace, but I believe God will use you and your marriage to reach Peter. I believe He already has. Let’s not worry about the future. We have plenty to concern ourselves with in the here and now.” She smiled and gently touched Grace’s face. “You’re going to be a mother. That is a precious and most wonderful thing. And it’s a gift from God.”
Those words suddenly shot arrows of hope through Karen’s heart. Yes, a baby was a gift from God. The psalmist said as much. “Oh, Grace, I know God is with you.”
Karen got up and went to where she had put her father’s Bible. Turning to Psalm 127, she found the verse she was looking for. “Here, see for yourself.” She handed the Bible to Grace. “Read verse three.”
Grace did so. “‘Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.’”
“God hasn’t deserted you, Grace. He’s rewarded you for your faithful love and desire to know Him better.”
“But what of you?” Grace replied, looking up from the Bible. “You are a wonderful woman, and in spite of your difficult times, you have been faithful. Why did God not bless you years ago with a husband and children of your own? What of the barren woman? Does God not love her equally as much if she is seeking His heart, as well?”
“Of course God loves her, as well. Of course He loves me. It doesn’t say that children are the only reward God gives. God is a god of infinite ability. His rewards are many, as are His mercies. Do not limit the Almighty God of the universe,” Karen said, almost laughing. Her own heart was lighter than it had been since Doris had gone home to God.
I have limited
you, Father. How like you to use my own student to reteach me
a valuable lesson
.
“I know you’re right,” Grace replied. She reached up and dried her cheeks and eyes. “But, Karen, if Peter doesn’t love God—if he still rejects the idea of accepting God into his life—I don’t know what I will do. I cannot stand by and let him subject both the child and me to further tirades. I will raise this baby to love God first and foremost.”
“Then we have only one choice,” Karen replied with great confidence. “We must pray and ask God to bring Peter into His number.” Karen got up and smoothed her blue wool skirt. “Adrik says we’re to break camp and leave within the hour. I don’t think they’ll have much luck of it with us in here. What say I help you pack?”
“But this is your wedding day,” Grace protested, getting to her feet. “You shouldn’t have to work or travel. You should have a wonderful night alone with your husband.”
Karen laughed. “And where would we have that? Out under the trees? We have two tents, one for the men and one for the women. There are now four women and three men since Jacob has come along.”
“Then I think we should get another tent,” Grace announced rather matter-of-factly.
“Well, they don’t grow on trees around here. And even if they did, someone probably would have already cut down the tree to make a home or fuel a steamer.”
Grace smiled and nodded. “Maybe I should ask around and see if there is anything to be done about it.”
“Oh, don’t bother. There’s precious little time as it is. If we’re not ready to go when Adrik gives the call, it won’t matter that we’ve just wed. He’ll leave me here just to teach me a lesson about heeding his directions.”
Grace grew very serious. “He’s a good man, Karen. I’m so pleased that God put you two together. And I know He’ll give you children and great happiness.”
“I know He will, too.”
“I’m so glad you agreed to walk with me,” Crispin told Miranda as they left the crowd and headed toward a nearby stand of spruce.
Miranda experienced both a sensation of danger and excitement as Crispin paused and looked with great longing into her eyes.
“You know that I’ve completely lost my heart to you, Miss Colton,” Crispin said with great flair. “You are the most incredible woman.”
Miranda, unfamiliar with flirtatious encounters, looked away quickly. “You shouldn’t say such things. It isn’t proper.”
“And why not? It’s true. This country throws off convention with great abandonment. Surely you won’t allow yourself to be steeped in prim and proper Victorian rhetoric when my heart is overflowing with the need to tell you how I feel.”
Miranda couldn’t help but smile at his words. She looked up to find his dark eyes searching her own. He looked for all the world as if he might very well perish if she refused to give him the answer he desired.
“I am cautious,” she replied. “Cautious because it bodes well to be so. Not because of any presupposed rules of society. Healthy fear keeps one from peril.”
He grinned at her rather roguishly. “Do you fear me, Miranda?”
“I’m not certain that fear is the proper word,” she answered, a charge of electricity stealing up her spine. He knew what she was feeling, of this Miranda was certain. Furthermore, he very much seemed to be enjoying her vulnerability.
When he stepped toward her, Miranda steadied her shaking knees and tried to appear as if clandestine moments in quiet woods were nothing out of the ordinary.
When he reached out and took her face in his hands, Miranda thought she might very well stop breathing. Forcing herself to maintain eye contact, she was unprepared for the kiss he pressed upon her lips. She realized all at once she was staring at his closed eyes, but soon she realized nothing at all. Nothing save the warm, delightful feel of his hands caressing her face and his mouth on hers.
“Say you love me,” he whispered hoarsely. He pulled away only far enough to allow her a full view of his beautiful face.
“I scarcely know you,” Miranda said, her breath ragged. Her pulse raced so wildly she thought she might actually faint.
“Then get to know me,” he murmured and began planting gentle kisses upon her cheeks and forehead. “For I am in love with you, Miranda Colton. I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
Miranda forced herself to back up, leaving the warmth of his touch. “Crispin, I’m not a fast woman. I do not play loose with any man. Perhaps I’ve given you the wrong idea by walk- ing here with you today. Worse yet, by letting you kiss me.”
He looked hurt, almost as if she’d slapped him. “So you are rejecting my love?”
Very slowly, Miranda shook her head. “Not at all. Merely suggesting we take it slowly. I would enjoy knowing you better, understanding your aspirations for the future. I would like to hear about your family and know what things you value most in life. I would like to know who you are. Most of the time on the trail you were busy packing goods or building the boat. I feel I know very little about you.”
His expression softened, and she could see his delightful nature return. “I will spare no detail. I will keep nothing from your scrutiny. Ask me anything. Demand the moon—only promise me that you might one day love me.”
Miranda smiled. “I will make no promises, but neither will I demand the moon. Let us keep company and see where our hearts lead us from there.”
Adrik loaded the last of their supplies onto the scow while Jacob finished securing the tent on board. Adrik had built in special rings on the deck to which they could stretch out the base of the dwelling. This, along with the canvas ties he’d had the women sew to the tent, allowed for the structure to ride rather securely.
He worked up a sweat restacking their supplies. Jacob was a good extra hand to have on board, in spite of his thin, almost frail, appearance. Adrik knew Karen would have him fattened up in no time—at least if their food held out, she would. He had already decided they would need to start some serious fishing and hunting as they made their way to Dawson. Fish would certainly be plentiful, and Adrik was quite capable of putting together a smoker to preserve the fish for some time to come. The forests away from the rush of the gold stampede were no doubt full of wildlife. Stopping long enough to spend a day hunting might pay off in the long run. They could easily butcher the meat and use the river’s steadily dropping temperature to keep it cold.
What he tried not to think about was how much he wanted to be alone with Karen. He ached to hold her—to share their wedding day isolated from the rest of the world. But it wasn’t to be. They couldn’t even have a decent wedding night alone together.
“We’re all ready here,” Jacob announced, coming up behind Adrik. “Shall I bring everyone aboard?”
Adrik glanced around to make certain everything was in its place. “Yeah, looks like we’d better get a move on. I figure we’ll have at least ten good hours of light. I’d like to make it to the other side of Lake Laberge, but I’m not holding my breath. That’s at least sixty miles. We’d have to have perfect winds and no obstacles to cross that distance.”
Jacob looked upward. “It looks like a fair sky.”
Adrik followed his gaze. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.”
“THERE’S A LETTER for you,” Jonas said, coming into the small cabin. He plopped down a cloth bundle, then reached back to close the door.