Summer of the Midnight Sun (21 page)

“But?”

Adrik smiled. “You’re a man who likes to get right to the heart of things, I see.”

“Might as well. I figure you have something to say, and I’ve no reason to keep you from it.”

Adrik nodded. “I’d like to know what your plans are.”

“My plans?”

Adrik nodded again. “For Leah.”

Chapter Seventeen

J
acob looked at the ledger and then to Helaina. They had been back in Last Chance for nearly three weeks, and she still couldn’t comprehend the way Leah kept books.

“I don’t understand how to figure out what the furs or trade items are worth,” Helaina admitted. “I don’t know if a new pair of mukluks are worth two cases of milk, a bag of sugar, and a coil of rope. How would I know that?”

“You don’t have to know it. Leah can figure it all up later and then reconcile it with the villagers. Don’t turn people away just because you don’t understand the system. Qavlunaq said you yelled at her. It upset her and she came to me in confusion.”

“They all hate me,” Helaina retorted. “They are meanspirited and vicious. I don’t see why you even bother to help them.”

Jacob frowned. He considered what to say to her for several moments while Helaina paced back and forth in a huff. “They don’t hate you. . . . They just don’t understand you. You have to see it through their eyes.”

“Why can’t they try to see it through my eyes?”

“Because you’re in
their
territory, living off the fat of
their
land.”

“Literally. Who in the world ever decided that eating whale blubber and seal fat was a good thing to do?”

Jacob shook his head. She was by far and away the most difficult person he’d ever known. “It’s what’s available to them, Helaina.” He’d long since dropped calling her Mrs. Beecham, even though calling her by her first name seemed somehow unwise. He couldn’t really say why. Up here, everyone went by their first name, but using hers seemed to imply an intimacy that did not exist.

She stopped and looked at him hard. “Can you honestly say you prefer this life to something else you might have in a real town—in a civilized state?”

Jacob closed the ledger book. “Are you trying to convince me to leave? Is that your plan?”

She composed herself and pushed back an errant strand of blond hair. “I have no plan. I simply asked you a question. You seem quite content here in this isolated, remote village, yet so many things are missing.”

“Such as?”

“Real bathrooms. Electricity. Telephones.” She plopped herself down on a stool behind the counter. “There’s a whole different world out there. A world that’s developed and changed while this place just stays the same. It’s probably always been like this—and probably always will be.”

“But what’s wrong with that? Why must everything evolve into something else?”

She looked at him in complete exasperation. “For the betterment of mankind. Can you not see that?”

“I see problems in the south, just like we have problems in the north. There is good with the bad in both places. I don’t see that we have to be a replica of the States just because we’re a territory.”

She sighed and gazed, unblinking, at the wall behind him. “I didn’t expect you to comprehend my thoughts. I don’t even understand it myself . . . not completely. It’s just this place—the isolation and the negative way the people see me—well, it’s all so hard. I don’t even feel like myself anymore. Nothing here is familiar or right.”

It was the first time Jacob felt truly sorry for her. “Look, I know this must be hard, but better you figure it out like this than to have found yourself stuck at the top of the world. It’s even more foreign there.”

She shook her head. “I would have survived. You don’t know me. I would have gotten by. I can’t help that I miss my life. I miss the food and the comfort.”

“What? You haven’t found comfort in our luxurious home?” he asked, grinning.

Helaina actually smiled at this. “The bathing facilities leave much to be desired.”

“A bowl of lukewarm water has always served me well enough,” Jacob teased.

“Look,” she began, “I’m sorry to be so frustrated and illtempered. This hasn’t really turned out the way I’d hoped. I’m lousy with the dogs and can’t seem to make sense of the store.”

“And you’re used to being a woman who easily picks up her duties and does them well—aren’t you?”

She glared at Jacob, and for a moment he thought she might get angry. Then just as quickly her expression softened. “I am.”

“So you’re completely out of place in this situation, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You’re learning new ways, and you are getting better at all of it. Even the dogs. You just have to show them who’s boss, and frankly, you’ve never appeared to have any trouble with that in the past.” He smiled again, hoping she wouldn’t take offense.

“So where do we go from here?”

“Well, I think it would benefit us both if I go clean up and you get supper ready. I really do appreciate having you prepare the meals. That leaves me free for other tasks.”

“It seems the least I can do, given the fact that you’ve had to leave your home on my account.”

“It wouldn’t be proper for me to share the place with you,” Jacob countered. “Taking up residence together up here constitutes marriage. We don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression. Besides, the weather has been fine and the dog shed is comfortable enough.”

“It still seems unfair, but I am grateful for what you’ve done. Ayoona showed me how to make a stew with squirrel earlier in the day. It’s been simmering since this afternoon.”

“That sounds wonderful. I hope she gave you some of those wild potatoes.”

“She did. There are some other things in there that I’m not entirely familiar with, but when she had me brave a taste, I had to admit it was quite good.”

“I’m sure it is.” He headed for the door. “Just put the ledger away for now. We’ll talk about it later and see if we can work out an easier system. For now, I’m going to clean up. I’m starved. Oh, will there be biscuits?”

She laughed. “Aren’t there always? I’ve never met a man who liked biscuits as much as you do.”

“Doughnuts.” He said the word firmly as if it should mean something to Helaina. At her look of confusion, he added, “That’s one thing I really miss from civilization, as you call it. My mother used to make the best doughnuts.”

“Maybe I can find a recipe,” Helaina offered.

“That would be really nice.”

He left her there and headed off to clean up. He thought it very kind of her to offer to make doughnuts, but still he wondered whether or not she’d ever adjust to life in Alaska. He was glad for her sake that she’d not made the trip north with the team on the
Homestead
. She would never have made it. It only made him wonder again—why? Why had she signed up for such a project?
She hates the north—hates the isolation and the cold. So why did she want to be on the
Homestead
?

Her lies in Nome came back to haunt him. She was clearly here to bide her time. But why? What was her interest in Jayce? What could compel a woman of her social caliber to follow him to the wilds of Alaska—for that was what she had done. Jayce had told him that Helaina was a last-minute addition to the team—one that had been frowned upon by everyone. Even the captain seemed unhappy about it, but he would say nothing on the matter.

Now she was here, and Jacob knew she was miserable. She didn’t fit in with the natives, and she resented the Kjellmanns and their beliefs. At least she managed to put that aside and join them on Sundays for church, however. He thought she did this more out of desperation for some semblance of normalcy than for any desire to learn about God’s Word. Still, she had shown interest in his devotions at night. They had even settled into a strange sort of ritual where he would take up the Bible as the meal concluded each evening. He would always read from the Scriptures and sometimes they would discuss what the meaning was and why it should matter to them in this day and age.

Jacob had to give her credit. Helaina had been open to the interpretations and understandings that he shared. She sometimes argued what she saw to be foolishness, but just as often she would ponder passages and ask him questions the following day. This had caused him to start praying for her. Whereas before he could see no reason why he should be saddled with this strange, angry woman, now he wondered if the Lord hadn’t brought her into his life for the purpose of sharing Jesus.

After cleaning up, Jacob grabbed his Bible and headed back to the house. He could almost taste the squirrel stew. A smile crossed his face. He’d have to reward Ayoona for her help with Helaina.

They ate in relative silence that evening. Jacob could tell Helaina had a great deal on her mind, and for once he found that he’d really like to know what it was that troubled her. He was on his second bowl of stew, still contemplating how he might approach the matter, when he heard her heave a heavy sigh.

Jacob just decided to wade into the conversation, come what may. “You seem to be carrying the weight of the world. You aren’t still worried about those ledgers, are you?”

“No,” she said, pushing back her bowl. She stared at the table and said nothing more.

Jacob pushed ahead. “Can you not talk about what’s bothering you?”

She looked up. “Do you honestly care?”

Her question took Jacob by surprise. His answer startled him even more. “Yes. Yes, I care. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”

“Do you remember our trip here from Nome?”

Jacob laughed. “How could I not?”

She smiled. “I know I was a burden. But do you remember our conversation about hopelessness and mercy?”

“Of course, I remember. It’s only been a few weeks.”

She leaned forward and folded her hands together atop the table. “I’ve thought about some of the things you said. Then last night you read from Matthew, and I’ve been troubled by it ever since.”

“Why?” He took up his Bible and opened to the eighteenth chapter of Matthew. “Tell me and we can discuss it.”

“Can we read it again?”

“Sure.” He drew his finger down the chapter until he came to the twenty-third verse. “‘Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.”’

“That was the law then, correct?” Helaina asked.

Jacob looked up. “I suppose it must have been.”

“So the king did nothing wrong in seeking justice. The man owed him and couldn’t pay him. The king had a right to receive his due pay.”

“I can agree with that. The man owed a debt.” He looked back to the Bible. “Should I go on?”

“Yes. Please.”

He found his place. “‘The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, “Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.” Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.”’

“But he wasn’t obligated to do so,” Helaina said, stopping Jacob from going further. “The law said that he should pay his debt.”

“Correct. The king showed mercy. The servant begged for more time. The king was moved by his circumstance and let him go.”

“But the law clearly was on the side of the king. A debt was owed.”

“And the king forgave that debt.”

“Please read on,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“‘But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, “Pay me that thou owest.” And his fellowservant fell down at his feet and besought him, saying, “Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.” And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt.”’

“He did nothing wrong,” Helaina said, her tone quite troubled. “The man was entitled to be paid back. Just because the king forgave his debt, that shouldn’t imply that the man is obligated to forgive someone else’s debt. If you owed me twenty dollars and John owed you twenty dollars, and I told you to forget about paying me back, it shouldn’t obligate you to forgive John’s debt. The situation in this verse is confusing to me. It was a legal loan—a binding agreement.”

“But the man was in the same position as his fellow servant,” Jacob replied. “He didn’t have the money to pay him at that time. The man never came to him and said, ‘I won’t pay you.’ He simply asked for more time. Who knows what the agreement might have been between the two men. Maybe it was such that the man had lent the money saying, ‘Pay me back when you can.”’

Helaina considered these words for a moment. “But it was the servant’s right to put the man in prison. Just as it was the king’s right to put the servant in prison. The law is the law.”

“But mercy is greater than the law.”

“That cannot be!” she snapped, and for the first time there seemed to be real anger in her voice. “Nothing is above the law.”

Jacob looked at her for a moment. “Do you not see this story for what it is really about? Let me finish the chapter.” He found his place quickly and continued. “‘So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.”’

“That isn’t right,” Helaina said, leaning back and crossing her arms. “It’s not just.”

Jacob shook his head. “How is it not just?”

“The man was under no obligation to forgive the debt owed him just because the king had forgiven him. That makes no sense to me. The man owed a debt and was responsible to pay back that debt. Why should the servant be obligated—forced to break a contract with another—just because his contract had been cancelled out?”