“I miss her so much,” Karen again spoke aloud. “I can’t remember a time in my life when she wasn’t my very favorite aunt. It seems strange that she will never again advise me or speak to me of her past experiences.” She turned her gaze to the thick blanket of clouds and asked, “Why, God? Why has this happened? Why have you allowed Martin Paxton to destroy my life?”
And she was convinced that the blame rested solely with Paxton. There was no doubt in her mind. The fire, according to those who had examined the remains, had begun in the front of the shop, well away from lanterns and stoves that might have sparked a flame. To Karen’s way of thinking, that pretty much signaled that someone had set the fire. Martin Paxton had sworn revenge on each of them, so it seemed an easy conclusion that he had arranged the disaster—perhaps even set the blaze himself.
“I thought I might find you here,” Adrik Ivankov announced.
Karen got to her feet quickly and nodded. “I just needed a few moments alone. I was about to come find you.”
“It’s always nice when a pretty lady seeks your company.” Adrik smiled, causing the edges of his mustache to turn upward. He’d shaved his beard the day after the fire, and Karen found him much more appealing without it. His smile broadened as if he could read her mind. “So what’s your pleasure?”
Karen blushed and looked away momentarily while she collected her thoughts. “Well, I know you’re anxious to get up to Sheep Camp, and I wanted to let you know that Mrs. Neal has offered us a room at the Gold Nugget. She said we could move in after lunch, so you will have your tent back.”
“I’m glad that you’ll be in warmer surroundings, but there was really no need to rush. I could have just as easily headed up north without those few things.”
Karen met his dark eyes and felt his expression warm away the chill of the day. She found his looks most appealing. Even the scars on his neck and jaw only seemed to make him more intriguing. She’d often thought to ask him about the encounter that had left him a marked man, but just as quickly had tucked away such questions. She didn’t want to presume upon an intimacy that he’d shared with her father and mother. They were acquaintances and he had saved her life, but surely there was nothing more—nothing deeper.
“You seem pretty lost in thought,” Adrik said. “You want to talk about it?”
Karen shrugged and looked down at the grave. “I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed. I really miss them, Adrik. I was so sure I would come north to spend time helping Father. I mean, it seemed right and all the pieces fell into place. I thought I would learn to minister to the Tlingits at his side and that I would spend the rest of my days here. Then, too, I was confident that Aunt Doris would be alive for a long, long time. How is it that they can be so quickly taken from me? How is that fair? How does it speak of a compassionate God?”
“Your pa was fond of quoting Scripture and saying that the rain falls on the just and the unjust. Bad things happen. There’s no doubt about it.”
Karen shook her head, her vision blurring with tears. “I want them back. I want the past to be nothing more than a bad dream. I want to sit down to tea with my mother. I want to hear my father preach, just one more time.” She looked up at Adrik, not caring that he would see her tears. “I need them and now they’re gone.” Her voice broke and she buried her face in her gloved hands.
She had known he would come to her, and in some ways she thought she had willed him there by her desperate need. Adrik wrapped her in the warm safety of his embrace. This was the second time in a matter of days that she’d cried in his arms.
“I know I’m a poor substitute,” Adrik told her, “but I’d like to think that my friendship with your parents would spill over to a friendship with you.” He paused for a moment, and Karen lifted her face to see his contemplative expression. “I miss them, too,” he added softly.
“Oh, Adrik, I am sorry. I hadn’t thought—”
He put his finger to her lips. “You weren’t expected to. You have enough to contend with. I just wanted you to know that we can share this grief together. You needn’t bear it alone.”
He lowered his face to better see her. Karen grew aware of his nearness, almost as if she hadn’t realized it before. With his mouth only inches away from her own, she found herself wondering what it would be like to be kissed by this broadshouldered native her father had put so much trust in. The thought so startled her that she pushed away from him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . mean to . . . break down.” Her voice betrayed her confusion as she stepped back several paces.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a good cry now and then,” Adrik said, appearing for all the world as though he had been completely unaffected by their encounter. “I just want you to know that I care—that I’m here for you and the children if you need me. I’ll be heading up to Sheep Camp tomorrow, but I’ll be back for Easter Sunday. Maybe we can share a dinner and discuss the future.”
Karen laughed. “The future. That’s exactly what I can’t seem to figure out. I doubt discussing it would lend any more clarity to it than I’ve already gathered.”
“You’d be surprised. Sometimes it just takes a bit of conversation to help a person think a thing through. For instance, I know that right now you’re pretty wrapped up in the bad things that have happened. I’m thinkin’, however, if you were to sit down and start talking about all the blessings you still have, you’d find that a lot of things have slipped your mind.”
Karen knew he was probably right. “I know I’ve been blessed. It’s just that right now the pain is much more evident.”
“Life isn’t without its moments of sorrow and pain,” Adrik reminded her, “but it’s also not without its pleasantries and good. God has a plan in all of this. We might not know what it is, but He is sovereign and we must trust His way.”
“I don’t know about that,” Karen said, stiffening. She was angry at God right now and far from ready to put her feelings aside. “I trusted God with everything, and now I’m like Job sitting in the ashes, with most everyone dead and everything stripped away.”
“That’s not true,” Adrik said, refusing to leave the matter well enough alone. “You told me yourself that you have money in the bank. Money enough to start over. That’s not having everything stripped away.”
“All right, then. Everything that’s important to me has been stripped away. Grace is gone. My mother, father, and aunt are dead. I’ve lost all my wordly possessions with exception to my father’s Bible, and I’m left with the charge of two children who are suffering from their own losses. It doesn’t seem an easy thing to me to say that God has a plan. Frankly, if this is His plan, then I’m not impressed. Innocent people are dead, while a murderer walks free to plot further revenge.”
Adrik gazed at her a moment before saying, “I know you’re angry.”
She shook her head, the sorrow quickly being replaced by feelings of rage. “You don’t know the half of it. Martin Paxton has been a thorn in my side for nearly a year. He tormented and abused Grace, and he’s threatened all of us on numerous occasions. I want the man to pay for what he’s done.”
“You can’t be sure he was responsible.”
“Oh, can’t I?” She shoved her gloved hands deep into her coat pockets. The cold was beginning to seep into her bones. “He was there. He the same as announced it with that smug smile of his.”
“You still can’t be sure. You can’t go around accusing a prominent citizen of arson.”
“Prominent! That’s hardly the word for him.”
“I’ve been around Skagway long enough to know that he’s well respected.”
“Feared, you mean.”
“No, I meant respected. He’s poured money into the community, and that’s made folks think rather highly of him. He’s involved in helping to finance the railroad out of Skagway and has invested hundreds of dollars into improving the harbor. People see that as a real boon to business. With that kind of background, I doubt seriously anyone is going to believe your accusations.” He stepped toward her and took hold of her arms. “And, Karen, that’s all you have. Accusations. What if you’re wrong? What if you heap some form of revenge upon this man, only to learn that a passing drunk started the fire instead?”
Karen tried to pull away, but he held her fast. “Let me go. You don’t know what he’s like. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“Maybe not, but I do know that justice and revenge rest in God’s hands and not our own.” His voice took on a tone of reproach. “You know full well your father would tell you to turn the other cheek. He’d tell you to suffer your enemy with patience and God’s peace.”
“He might very well say that, but he isn’t here,” Karen said rather hatefully. “And by your own words, you are a poor substitute.” She saw the way her statement hurt him. She wanted to apologize, but at the same time she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.
He let her go with a nod. “That I am.”
It was Adrik who walked away rather than Karen. She felt frozen to the place where she stood, her anger and bitterness now feeding off her last reserves of energy. Why did he have to say those things? Why had he argued with her in the first place? She would never have said anything so meanspirited had he not provoked her.
The argument in her heart seemed very lame considering that she could see how deeply she’d wounded him.
“But he’s wrong,” she whispered, putting aside her shame. “He’s so very wrong. He doesn’t know Martin Paxton like I do. He doesn’t know what the man is capable of.”
Slowly she made her way back to the Tlingit village. They were a silent and steady people, these Tlingit. They dressed for the most part like any white person, but their endurance and patience were hardly attributes Karen found in her own people. The gold fever brought new throngs of cheechakos on a daily basis, and most of them were white and incapable of the hardships of living in the wilderness. The Tlingit seemed to take the swell of population in stride. They were often misused and abused by the newcomers, but Karen saw an attitude in them that held them proud and straight. It was almost as if without words they were saying, “We were here before you came, and we will be here after you’re gone.”
Karen approached the tent she shared with Leah and Jacob and squared her shoulders. They would be happy to hear about the move, of that she was certain. Leah was afraid of the noises at night, and the cold left her shivering even when sandwiched between Karen and Jacob. Jacob wouldn’t care either way, but he worried about Leah, and Karen knew he’d be pleased to see her comforted. She found his love for Leah almost enviable. He knew his responsibility to her—knew that they were alone in the world at this point—and yet they had each other. For all his problems and times of despair, Karen knew Jacob cared deeply for Leah’s welfare.
The children were just finishing a lunch of stew and bread when she pushed back the flap and stepped inside.
“We saved you a bowl,” Leah declared. She pulled back a dish towel to reveal the awaiting meal.
Karen’s stomach rumbled and she only then realized how hungry she was. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” She hurried out of her gloves and bonnet, then sat down on the ground between the brother and sister.
“I have good news,” she said, taking up the offered bowl.
“Have you heard from Papa?” Leah questioned excitedly.
Karen felt sorry for the child and patted her head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not that kind of news. But it is good, nevertheless. Mrs. Neal has offered us a room at the Gold Nugget. She also said the ladies at the church were collecting clothes and household goods for us. It will be like Christmas to see what they manage to put together.” Karen tried to make it all sound like great fun.
She ate a bit of the stew and added, “There’s just one bed, so Leah and I will have to sleep together. We’ll buy you a cot, Jacob, and we’ll just have to honor each other’s needs for privacy. I don’t look for us to stay there long, so it shouldn’t be too great a hardship.”
“If we aren’t stayin’ long,” Jacob began, “then where are we going?”
Karen shrugged and tore off a piece of bread that Leah offered. “I’m not sure. My first thought was to go back to the States, but I can’t do that. I can’t take you away when your father has promised to come back for you.”
“Why don’t we go north—go after him?” Jacob questioned.
“That is a thought. I suppose we have enough money put aside that we could buy supplies. We could probably even pay for packers to see us over the summit. After that, I’m not sure what awaits on the other side.”
“I heard one old fellow say that the summit is the worst of it,” Jacob said, his tone taking on a hint of excitement. “There’s plenty of water travel after you get on the other side of the mountain. We could just float north to Dawson City and find Pa.”
“Could we?” Leah asked, the hope sparkling in her eyes.
“I suppose it is something to consider,” Karen replied. She ate thoughtfully for several moments, then added, “There really is nothing to keep us here now.”
“I can ask around about packers,” Jacob offered. “I’ll bet Mr. Ivankov could tell us where we can get help.”
“Mr. Ivankov might not be feeling too kindly toward me just now,” Karen replied. “We had some rather heated words. We should probably stick to asking someone else.”
Jacob shrugged. “That’s all right. I know lots of folks I can talk to.”
Karen nodded. “Good. Let’s see to getting settled over to the Gold Nugget first, and then we’ll discuss the matter in more detail. There’s a lot of work involved. It’s not just money or the supplies. There’s a great deal of distance between here and Dawson and a great many people of less than sparkling character who stand between here and there. We’ll have to think this through and do what’s best to ensure our safety.”
“And we have to pray, too,” Leah chimed in.
Karen nodded, but felt no desire to encourage any further thought on the matter. She was angry at God, and talking to Him just now was the last thing she wanted to do.
PETER WAS UNPREPARED for the sight that awaited him at breakfast. His father sat at the head of the table as usual, but before him was an open Bible, and he was reading to the women who sat at either side of him.