Gold Rush Baby (Alaskan Brides)

by Dorothy Clark

  Thomas lifted his head. The rain had stopped. The storm was over. He rose to his feet, glanced at the splotches of shimmering colors thrown on the floor by the sun coming through the wet, stained glass of the windows. A smile tilted his lips. He turned, started up the aisle and stopped, staring at Mack Tanner who was staring right back at him.

  “Hello, Thomas. I didn’t expect anyone to be here.” Mack strode down the aisle toward him. “Why the smile?”

  “I was remembering the look on your face the day I gave you the gold nuggets to buy the stained glass windows.”

  “Nuggets I had buried, in the hope men would get sidetracked into looking for them and stop looking for my real buried treasure.” Mack shook his head, laughed. “I sure didn’t expect you to be the one that found my decoy treasure.”

  “That was obvious from the look on your face when I gave them to you.”

  “I guess.”

  Thomas frowned. “I hadn’t thought of it before, but…I think that may have been the beginning.”

  “The beginning of what?”

  “All that has happened since.”

  “You mean with Viola?”

  “Yes.” Thomas looked up at the windows. “If it weren’t for finding those nuggets, I could not have afforded to stay in town like I have. And I wasn’t even looking for them…. God always pays for what He ordains.”

  Mack stared at him. “Now see, it’s nuggets of truth like that…” He shook his head. “Pure gold. The true riches…” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you ever think God might have had more than one purpose in giving you the ‘wherewithal’ to stay in town, Thomas?”

  The prickle of his flesh told him Mack was about to say something he needed to hear. “What are you talking about?”

  “Treasure Creek. This thing with Viola has split this town apart. People who were best friends are no longer talking to one another because they have chosen opposite sides of the ‘Viola’ issue. Half of them think she should stay, half think she should be thrown out of town.

  “And they both use the same argument—Treasure Creek is a God-centered town. I don’t know what to do. I only know something has to be done, because I sure don’t like the atmosphere in this town any more.”

  He fixed an assessing gaze on him. “I felt an ‘urging’ to come here, Thomas. I thought it was to pray about the situation, but now I’m not so sure. I think God may have had a different reason for drawing me here right now. Let’s sit down and talk about it.”

  Thomas nodded and slid onto a pew. Mack joined him, leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.

  “You know, Thomas, that I’ve thought, since that first day I heard you preaching to a group of stampeders on the Chilkoot, that you are the man God wants to fill the pulpit of this church. I feel that more strongly than ever.” He turned his head and looked at him. “You have the strongest faith I have ever witnessed in a man, Thomas. My preacher dad would have said you’re a man ‘on fire with the Holy Spirit’.”

  He straightened, fastened his gaze on him. “I know you’re concerned with the Tlingits and the stampeders on the trail. So am I. But more and more of the Tlingits are coming to services every Sunday. And this split that is happening among our church members shows the people of Treasure Creek need God’s truth every bit as much as the Indians and the stampeders.”

  So they will be among my people. New plants will grow where the seeds land. You will gather those plants and tend them that they also may grow to know your God.

  The prickles chased down his spine, spread through him in waves. This was the truth he was to hear.

  “If your faith ignites the people of Treasure Creek, this place will become so alive with faith, it will draw the stampeders before they ever start up the Chilkoot! And it’s better to prevent a tragedy than to patch up the damage after one. Treasure Creek needs you, Thomas. The people need to hear the truth…those nuggets of God’s riches…that pure gold that you speak without even being aware that you are teaching others. Let the stampeders and the Tlingits and the townspeople find the true riches right here, Thomas. I think God wants you to take the pulpit of Treasure Creek Church and heal this town. What do you say?”

  Thomas locked his gaze on Mack and held out his hand. “I say you’re right. Do I start this Sunday?”

  Mack grinned, shook his proffered hand. “You sure do! I’ve been wanting to hand that pulpit over to you for months. And meantime you can move into your new home.”

  “My new home?”

  Mack’s grin widened. “Yeah. Haven’t you noticed the new house that was just built on the corner?”

  “You mean—”

  “Yep. It’s the Treasure Creek Church parsonage.” Mack laughed, thumped him on his good shoulder. “You’re not the only one with a path to God’s ear, you know. Come on, I’ll show you your new home while we discuss an agreeable remuneration for your services.”

  Thomas stood, swept his gaze around the sanctuary and felt the peace of knowing he was letting God’s will fill him. “I’m already home.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Viola glared at her trembling hands. Willed them to stop. To no avail. Why would they? Her entire body was quivering over what she might face today.

  She smoothed her long skirt, turned to the mirror and arranged the ruffles that tumbled from her high collar to meet the broad lapels of her green, fitted jacket, tweaked the restrained fullness at the top of the long, leg-of-mutton sleeves. Her outfit was modest in the extreme, but her hair…

  She stared at the mass of dark red curls at her crown, itching to reach for a snood to hide them. It was one thing to declare them her symbol of freedom here at home, but quite another to have them exposed to public view.

  Evelyn Harris and her friends would be there.

  She drew a deep breath, blew it out and turned from the mirror. It had been ten days since Dengler’s attack. Ten days that she had hidden in her cabin, waiting for all trace of the bruising to disappear. She would cower no longer. And what safer place than church to make her first appearance? Not even Evelyn Harris would dare speak out there. And she would have her friends to support her.

  “My friends.” How lovely those words tasted on her tongue. What warmth they brought to her heart. She would concentrate on them. And on the happily gurgling bundle of joy at her feet.

  God chose you to watch over the baby.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes. There had been such caring, such…respect for her in Thomas’s voice as he had said those words. And now… She took another breath, blinked the tears away. And now Thomas was gone. Most likely, he was back in his hut on the trail, ministering to the Tlingits and the stampeders. And her chance to help him with his work was gone with him. But that was for the best. She could not bear to see that hurt, that disillusionment in his eyes again. And she would not have to face him today. Her love for him was safe. Folded up and tucked away in the deepest part of her heart, along with her dream.

  “Are you ready to go to church, Goldie?” She bent and lifted the baby into her arms, cuddled her close and walked into the living room. Goldie twisted around, her chubby little hand grabbing for the curls that dangled at her temple. “Oh, no, you don’t. You pull hard.” She laughed and sat Goldie on the rug, gave her the little wooden dog to play with and walked to the table by the door.

  One last thing to do and she was ready. She counted out a tenth of the money in the bowl and dropped the coins into a small leather poke. They made a muted click as they fell on those already in the bag.

  “That poke looks right hefty.” Hattie drew the sides of her jacket together over her ample bosom and fastened the fancy frog loops over the buttons. “That rumor of a big strike beyond Dawson City sure brought them stampeders swarmin’ round to get their mendin’ done before they took off up the trail. And their minds wasn’t on nothin’ but the gold, either.” She chuckled, tugged the peplum of her jacket down over her abundant hips. “Makes me wonder if God Hisself is the one planted them gold nugg
ets that started the hubbub. It sure took them stampeders attention off of you.”

  “Hattie. That’s…preposterous.”

  “I’ve known of God to do harder things than that, Viola.” The faded blue eyes fixed a look on her. “I’ve been here since the beginnin’ of this gold rush and I ain’t never seen the likes of this. A steady stream of gold chasers comin’ off the boats and settin’ out to climb the trail soon’s there’s space enough for them to set their boots down.” She looked up from smoothing her skirt over her round stomach and smiled. “You’re prettier than any gold nugget I ever saw. You ready, Viola?”

  She wasn’t talking about being washed and dressed. Bless Hattie, Lord. She always understands. “Yes.” She dropped the poke in her purse, drew the strings tight and walked over to pick up Goldie and the little wooden dog.

  Viola fussed with Goldie’s dress, tugged the sleeve of the sweater Hattie had knit the baby down over her pudgy wrist, smoothed a lock of her baby hair back beneath her bonnet. Anything to keep from looking at the other people filing through the church door. Anything to keep her mind off the murmur of comments she could hear in the background.

  “Mornin’, Mavis…Rose.” Hattie moved into the entrance, sniffed. “Smells like paint in here. But don’t it look bright and pretty. Them Tucker girls do good work.” Hattie glanced back over her shoulder at her. “Wait’ll you get them curtains made, Viola. This place’ll really be spiffy then.”

  “More like gaudy….”

  “Indeed…”

  “What is she doing here?”

  The under-the-breath comments came from a small group of women on the left. She turned right, glared down at her free hand. Don’t you dare tremble! She pulled the poke from her purse and emptied her tithe into the basket.

  “Ill-gotten gain…”

  “Tainted money…”

  The whispers followed her into the sanctuary. Hattie started down the aisle. She put her hand on her arm and nodded toward an empty pew on the right, in front of those filled with Tlingits from the nearby village. She had no desire to sit down front and be a source of disturbance during Mack Tanner’s sermon.

  She followed Hattie into the pew, cuddled Goldie close and tried not to see the covert glances thrown her way, or hear snatches of whispered conversations. She lifted her chin and held her face impassive when Judith Smith and Elizabeth Dunn glanced over their shoulders at her, stood and moved with their families to the other side of the aisle.

  Mavis and Harold Goodge came in, glanced around and slid into a pew in front of her. Beverly Fogel followed with her husband, James, glanced her way, stuck her nose in the air and marched forward to take a seat on the other side of the aisle behind Evelyn and Robert Harris.

  Hattie’s elbow dug into her ribs. “That one looks like she’s been suckin’ on a pickle.”

  She forced her lips into a smile.

  Hattie nodded. “That’s better.”

  Frankie Tucker came in with Ed Parker, scanned the congregation and spoke to Ed. He nodded and stepped back to let her precede him into the pew in front of the Goodges.

  Viola caught her breath, looked over the congregation. They were choosing sides! Over her. She should not have come. Perhaps—

  The organ sounded. Conversations hushed. The congregation stood. Tabitha Burger stepped to the front of the aisle, nodded to the organist and began to sing, “O Blessed Lord, our God and King.”

  Viola stood quietly, drew in long breaths to control the churning sourness in her stomach. It was too late to leave. She would have to stay for Mack Tanner’s sermon, then leave during his closing prayer. She sank to her seat when the hymn ended, smoothed Goldie’s dress down over her chubby little legs.

  “Good morning, everyone.”

  She glanced up at Mack Tanner, looked back down and took the little wooden dog out of her purse to give Goldie. How was she to endure the waiting?

  “Most of you here know that I have been hoping and praying for an ordained preacher to fill this pulpit since I built the church. This morning I am pleased to tell you that God has heard and answered that prayer. It is with pleasure and anticipation that I turn this pulpit over to the first pastor of Treasure Creek Church, Thomas Stone.”

  The little dog fell from her fingers. Her heart lurched. Her lungs froze. She ducked down to retrieve the dog, stayed there fighting to hold back tears. No one must see. If they should guess… Oh, if only she could leave. But it was impossible now. She would have to stay and—

  “…speak to you about judgment.”

  The word sent bile surging to her throat. She jerked upright, praying she had heard Thomas wrong, knowing she had not.

  “For my scriptural basis I will use the woman caught in the act of adultery that the scribes and pharisees brought to Jesus.”

  Heads turned, sent cruel glances her way.

  Pain, swift and sharp, pierced her heart. She had trusted him. Trusted in his caring and kindness. What a fool she was!

  “…were waiting to see what Jesus would say and do. The punishment for such an act in those days was death by stoning. And there was no doubt about the woman’s guilt. She had been caught in the very act they accused her of.”

  His deep, rich voice drove the pain deeper with every word. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, bit down to keep the sobs building in her chest from escaping.

  “Do you remember what Jesus said to those gathered there awaiting His sentence of the woman?”

  His gaze swept over the congregation, found her.

  “He said, ‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’” His gaze held hers, then, again, swept over the congregation. “‘He that is without sin among you’…”

  A thick, heavy silence fell. And then his voice came again, quiet and deep.

  “Thou shalt have no other gods before me….

  “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image….”

  There was a stirring, a clearing of throats.

  “Honor thy father and thy mother….”

  A soft sobbing came forth.

  “Thou shalt not kill….

  “Thou shalt not commit adultery….”

  A moan.

  “Thou shalt not steal….”

  She couldn’t listen to any more. She knew now what she had to do. She kissed Goldie’s cheek, hugged her tight for a moment, then handed her to Hattie, rose and slipped from the pew.

  “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor….”

  Crying.

  “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house….”

  The words followed her through the entrance. She stepped outside and closed the door, her heart sick and heavy. He had used her as an example. No matter that he had said he was talking about the adulterous woman in the Bible. Everyone knew…. A sob burst from her throat. She caught up her skirt hems and ran down the road, shoved open her door and dashed to her bedroom.

  The cradle first. She grabbed hold of the footboard and backed toward the door, tugging the cradle after her into the living room. Now Goldie’s clothes and toys. She ran back into the bedroom, swiped the tears from her cheeks and pulled Goldie’s clothes and booties, blankets, diapers and hats from the chest, carried them out and piled them into the cradle. Her toy rattle, the string of spools, the little bag of buttons she’d made her that she liked to shake. She dropped the toys into the cradle and ran to the kitchen for the banana bottles, snatched up the little spoon she’d bought her and ran back to put them in the cradle.

  Pressure built in her chest, pulsed against her throat in broken sobs. Stop it! There is no time for your selfishness. Lana and Mack Tanner will be wonderful parents for Goldie. And she will have Georgie to play with when she’s older, if her father doesn’t come back. And Mack Tanner already had custody of Goldie’s gold nuggets.

  She spun about and ran back to the bedroom, dragged her mother’s old carpetbag from beneath the bed. Her breath came in labored gulps. She hauled her necessari
es, nightgown and robe from her dresser, thrust them into the bag, then added her brown merino and blue tweed outfits, two white shirtwaists and her slippers. Her toilet articles! She ran through the living room and kitchen to the washing and bathing room, grabbed her toothbrush and powder, brush and comb, snatched up the small hand mirror and hurried back to her bedroom.

  If only her head would stop pounding so she could think! What else? What else…?

  Chapter Twenty

  Goldie’s things were all ready. The sight of the cradle with Goldie’s clothes and bottles and toys packed into it tore at her. She turned away before she lost all strength, walked back into her bedroom and picked up her mother’s old carpetbag. Everything else, her cabin and her savings, she would leave for Hattie. That would be enough to keep her. She would go the way she had come. Only this time, there would be no hope in her heart for a clean life, a “normal” life. She knew now that the stain of her past would always be with her. And that the stain would spread to infect anyone she drew close to. Anyone she loved. Just as it had those who had befriended her here in Treasure Creek.

  The rent in her heart split wider. The pain seized her lungs, stole her breath. The beloved faces flowed before her on a river of sorrow and regret. Hattie and Frankie… Teena and Lana…Mavis… She should never have allowed them to come close to her. She should never have taken them into her heart. The stain that was there had smeared them all with its darkness. She had brought hurt and division to the church and to the town. She had set friend against friend.

  She blinked her eyes, caught her lower lip between her teeth to hold back the sobs. The way they had chosen sides in church…lined up for or against her.

  She forced air into her lungs, carried the carpetbag out into the living room, opened the sewing cupboard and took out her pincushion, measuring tape and scissors. She would need them to make her living. She put them in the carpetbag and closed it, then tore a clean sheet of paper out of her account book and picked up her pen.