by Lois Richer
“The word pemmican comes from the Cree word, pimîhkân.”
“Meaning?” Jack lifted one eyebrow.
“Fat or grease.” Alicia giggled at his skeptical expression. “The specific ingredients used were whatever was available. The meat was often bison, moose, elk or deer and then they added fruits if they had them available, cranberries and saskatoon berries sometimes. If they could get them they’d also use cherries, currants, chokecherries and blueberries, but that was mostly for ceremonial and wedding pemmican.”
“Sounds a little like those weird health food bars my wife used to eat.” For a moment pain fluttered across his face, but then he grinned. “Except Simone wouldn’t have been caught dead eating fat.”
“Granola bars are a good comparison,” Alicia said. “Europeans who came to Canada for the fur trade and many Arctic explorers adopted pemmican because it was a high-energy food they could easily carry.”
“You see, Dad,” Giselle said as she looked up from the display. “Alicia knows everything about this stuff.”
“I didn’t realize you were listening in.” Alicia smiled at her. “You seem pretty keen on learning about my ancestors.”
“Of course.” Giselle shrugged. “I am Canadian. It’s my history, too.”
“Smart girl. I like your attitude.” In truth, Alicia encountered very few people who learned about the original settlers in the land and then not only embraced that knowledge, but sought to learn more. Giselle was an eager pupil. “I don’t know what your duties are at the hotel, but if you’re interested, you’re welcome to help us with some weekend events we hold throughout the summer.”
“I’d love it!” Giselle twirled around, her face glowing with excitement. “But I hardly know anything. There’s so much I need to learn.”
“You could always visit the museum. It has lots of information and many examples of Native culture.” Alicia chanced to glance Jack’s way and noted the frown marring his good looks. “As long as it’s okay with your father,” she added.
“Daddy doesn’t mind. He likes me to keep busy,” Giselle assured her as she hugged Jack. “I can easily fit working here around my chores at the hotel. Right, Dad?”
“If you want,” Jack said. It seemed to Alicia that he swallowed the rest of his coffee a little too quickly. Then he rose. “I’d better go. Teddy Stonechild is going to stop by tonight and show me how to update our reservation system to better use an online booking company. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Thanks for your help with the kites.” She smiled, half relieved that he was finally leaving. Maybe once those blue eyes were off her, her breathing would even out.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Jack drew a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and held it out. “This is a list of resources the library is able to order in for the sod house. Why don’t you take a look and check off the ones you think would be most helpful?”
“Uh, sure.” Alicia couldn’t do anything but take the paper from him. As usual when she was flustered, even the words she knew would turn to gibberish. Her stomach sank like a rock in the harbor.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to order them right away,” he continued, his eyes narrowed as he watched her. “That way we’d have lots of time to research so we know what we’re doing.”
“Good idea.” She forced a smile then glanced sideways at Giselle. “Maybe you’d like to be part of this, too,” she invited. As Alicia explained about the sod house, Giselle’s brown eyes glowed with anticipation.
“I want to help, Daddy,” she begged.
“Honey, it will be hard work. We have to dig in permafrost to get a foundation down. Manual labor,” he said, only half teasing.
“I’m not useless. I can dig as well as Alicia or anyone else.” A quiet dignity threaded through Giselle’s voice. “I’m not a baby, Dad.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.” His gaze met Alicia’s.
She had to look away as the connection between them seemed to vibrate. Her reactions to Jack were strong but very different from those she experienced around other men. She didn’t understand why just seeing him caused this odd nervousness.
“Technically, Tansi is closed so we’d better leave.” He ruffled Giselle’s hair. “You promised me you’d help with those housekeeping lists.”
“Housekeeping.” Giselle made a face. “How boring that will be after all these interesting things.” She glanced over her shoulder then sighed. “Okay. I made a promise. I’ll keep it. See you at church tomorrow, Alicia.”
“Bye.” Alicia waggled her fingers and watched father and daughter leave. With Jack gone the tenseness in her shoulders eased. But that lasted only a moment, until she looked down at the paper he’d given her. She turned the sheet right side up. Now what? She could hardly tell Jack she couldn’t even read the titles let alone the books.
She was proud of her accomplishments. She’d made a life for herself, set up a business and ran it successfully, gradually paying off her loans. But in spite of all of that, she felt stupid. She was twenty-five and she couldn’t even read a book.
Let alone figure out how to find her son.
I don’t think I can do this on my own, God. I’ll need help to find him. Please let Laurel find my former social worker.
Alicia had a lot of plans for her store, but now they were all on hold. First she had to make sure her son was safe.
That was another thing she had to keep from Jack. So many secrets… But keeping them was worth it when there was so much was at stake. She’d given up her child to insure he had a future. Even though ten years had passed, his happiness was still her primary goal. Now she just had to find him without drawing anyone’s suspicions.
Including the handsome former cop’s.
*
“Alicia’s really nice, isn’t she, Dad?” Giselle draped herself on the floor in front of the fireplace in their private living room. “I really like her.” She paused, then murmured, “But I feel like there’s something wrong.”
“Wrong?” Jack frowned. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with the lovely woman. She had accused Giselle of stealing but she also kept coming to their rescue, most recently by offering his slightly bored daughter a job on the sod house. “With her business, you mean? Or because she accused you of stealing?”
“Technically, I guess I did steal,” Giselle said thoughtfully. “I mean I did take something out of her store without paying for it.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I think that scared her. I don’t think Alicia has a lot of money, Daddy.”
“Being self-employed is never easy,” Jack agreed, surprised by his child’s mature consideration. “So is that what you meant about something being wrong?”
“No. Didn’t you notice when you handed her that paper about the resource books?” Giselle prodded. “It was upside down and she didn’t turn it right when she glanced at it, either. She just set it down.”
“Maybe she was thinking about something else,” he offered.
“Okay. But—” Giselle stared into the fire. “Then there are her glasses.”
“Her glasses? Yeah, I noticed that, too.” He frowned, puzzling over those missing glasses.
“She never seems to have them handy. If you needed glasses to see well, wouldn’t you keep them nearby?” Her intent brown gaze rested on him, waiting.
She had a point. Jack waited for her to continue.
“I like Alicia so much. But sometimes I feel like she’s hiding something.” She let the words die away. “It’s probably me. I’ll figure it out and try to help if I can.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Alicia, but it’s very kind of you to try to help her, honey.” A spurt of pride bubbled up inside him.
“It’s what the Bible says we’re supposed to do. ‘Bear one another’s burdens.’” Giselle grinned at him. “I’m sure Alicia could help you bear your burden—me.”
The quotation made Jack shift uncomfortably. Was Giselle reminding him he hadn’
t been to church in a very long time? Or did his daughter, spurred by her aunt, think he needed companionship? Whatever, it was time to make his position clear.
“Listen, I know you probably think things were better when your mom was alive, but we’re still a family. I’m not looking to replace your mom, not that I could.”
For the first time Jack couldn’t immediately summon up Simone’s face. He glanced at the photograph sitting on the fireplace mantel and felt like a traitor for needing that prod to recall the straight sculpted lines of her face, her glittering green eyes and the way her blond hair sprang back from her face.
“She was a very special woman.”
“You always say that, but special can mean anything. What do you mean when you say it about Mom?” Giselle asked, her face resting in her palms, elbows on the area rug.
Jack groped for a way to explain. “Whenever she came in the room she was like sunshine that lights up all the dark corners. She was always smiling and happy. You must remember her laugh.”
Giselle shook her head slowly, as if reluctant to admit it. “Sometimes I can hardly remember her at all,” she said very softly. “Is that wrong?”
“No, not wrong.” Jack felt ill equipped to have this conversation, but he had to reassure his child. “People we love are always in our hearts. The good times, the fun we had together, the love we shared, that’s all tucked inside you. You won’t forget your mom, Giselle. Not ever.”
“I hope not,” she agreed quietly. After a pause she asked, “I’m not really like her, am I?”
“Physically, you mean?” Jack asked.
“There’s that—she was beautiful and glamorous, and I’m not. But in other ways, too. She liked quiet and peace. I like lots of people around.” Giselle grimaced. “And I’m messy. Mom never had a hair out of place.”
“Your mother was lovely. But you’re pretty, too, honey,” he assured her.
“She used to tell me about when she was growing up. She had so many friends.” Giselle frowned. “I’ve never had more than one really close friend.”
“Giselle, honey, just because you’re different doesn’t mean you aren’t loved,” he insisted. “Anyway, you’re like her in your heart. Both of you are generous and kind.”
“I’m not. I was mean to Alicia that first day on the train,” Giselle admitted. “Mom liked to keep it secret when she did stuff. I remember her shushing me when I wanted to talk about the Christmas dinner she organized for the homeless shelter. Alicia’s like that, I think.”
Her reference to Alicia irritated him though he didn’t know why.
“I would have bragged about what I did.” Giselle went silent, staring into the fire, lost in thought. Finally she asked, “Do you think Alicia has memories of happy family times like we do?”
“Probably. Why do you ask?” A twinge of frustration grew inside him. She constantly brought up Alicia’s name, yet, from that first day they’d arrived Alicia had been there for her, helped fix her room, as a mother would. It was only natural Giselle thought about her.
But Jack now wondered if he’d been wrong to ask for Alicia’s help. He’d been totally confounded by his daughter’s reaction to his pink creation, but maybe he shouldn’t have gone to Alicia. Maybe he’d encouraged Giselle to start thinking of Alicia as a maternal figure.
The maelstrom of questions roiling inside his head was disrupted by his daughter’s thoughtful voice.
“Alicia always seems sad to me,” Giselle mused aloud.
“She was smiling and laughing when we left her store.”
“Yes, but I think that was for our benefit.” Giselle nodded, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think she was smiling inside. She kept giving you these weird looks. Not puppy love stuff, Dad, so don’t get all twisted. More like suspicious. Or worried. Kind of like she doesn’t quite trust you.”
“Really?” Jack raised one eyebrow, surprised only because Giselle was confirming what he’d felt.
“Maybe something else is bothering her, something she doesn’t want to talk about.” Giselle rose in one fluid motion.
“That’s probably it,” he agreed. He hadn’t known Alicia long. It would be better to keep his distance until he did. “Are you sure you want to get so involved in the sod house?”
“I want to help. It’s not organizing a Christmas dinner like Mom did, but it could be my contribution.” She kissed his cheek, hugged him then hurried away, fingers flying over her phone. “Wait till Marni finds out,” she called over one shoulder.
Marni had been Giselle’s best friend since kindergarten, but Jack hoped his daughter would soon find a close friend here in Churchill. Maybe then she wouldn’t want to spend so much time around Alicia Featherstone.
Like he did?
Jack struggled the rest of the evening, but failed to suppress thoughts of the lovely Native woman. He was already thinking about Alicia way too much. Would working together on the sod house intensify those thoughts? And if it did?
The thought tantalized him. To get closer to Alicia, to figure out why she was so reserved, so secretive—something inside him craved answers to his questions about her.
But as twilight lingered, he realized he couldn’t give in to that need to know. He couldn’t let himself care about her, though that would be easy. But going through the terrible loss as he had with Simone—no. Never again.
Friends, that’s all he and Alicia could be.
Chapter Six
Jack perused the book’s cover then added it to his growing “borrow” pile on the library table. One benefit to owning a hotel with only a train and air transport to bring guests was that on slack days he could grab a few moments on his deck with a book and a coffee or sit on the stony beach with the waves as background music for his reading. Escapism without leaving home when June nights stayed light well into the morning hours.
“Jack Campbell said you could order these for our sod house project, Barb.”
Hearing his name, Jack peeked through the stacks. Alicia stood at the main desk, holding out a sheet of paper. She looked very businesslike in a royal-blue jacket over a white sweater and dark jeans. Her hair splayed over her shoulders in a straight fall of midnight-black. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled with good health. Jack could hardly tear his eyes away.
“You’re sure you want so many?” Barb, the librarian, asked in a surprised tone.
“Yes, please.” Alicia smiled at her wide-eyed look. “We’re not exactly sure which we’ll need, so it’s better to be prepared.”
The librarian took the list and set it near her keyboard.
“Thanks very much. Give me a call when they come in, okay? Oh, by the way…” Alicia opened her bag and pulled out a foil-wrapped package. “Here’s a loaf of that banana bread you said you liked. I made a fresh batch this morning.”
“Before or after your run?” Barb grinned as she took the loaf, held it to her nose and inhaled with deep satisfaction.
“Before.” Alicia winked. “I can’t sleep when the sun’s up.”
“You never do. I’m glad you stopped by, and not only because of this lovely treat,” Barb said. She reached under her desk and pulled out a small box. “The rest of your tapes came. They’re on extended loan so you can keep them for three months.”
“Excellent.” Alicia tucked the package into her bag. “I don’t know if that’s long enough with summer coming and everything so busy, but I’m eager to get started.”
“I can always ask for another extension.” Barb signed them out. “You’re doing very well. I never made it through even the first level of French.”
“I think the tapes make it easier,” Alicia murmured.
Alicia was learning French? Again her multifaceted personality surprised Jack. His elbow hit the stack of books and sent one crashing to the floor. He quickly replaced it, knowing he’d been skulking behind the stacks long enough. Barb would think he was spying. He gathered up his novels and walked toward the counter.
“Hi Alic
ia,” he said, surprised by the rush of excitement that hit him.
“Hi. That’s a lot of books.” She blinked when he set them all on the countertop. “Are you planning a reading holiday?”
“I wish.” He chuckled, trying but utterly incapable of stemming his admiration for the way her glorious hair fell over her shoulders like a dark shawl. “I’m preparing for when I get a spare minute. I like to read.”
“You must if you’re checking out that many books.” Alicia wore a funny look Jack couldn’t quite interpret.
“I blew the budget on my e-reader during our seventeen-hour train ride from Thompson so I’m back to borrowing books,” he explained.
“Oh,” she said, her face blank for an instant before she glanced at Barb. “Well, I’d better go if I’m to have a coffee break before Eli takes off. Bye.” She fluttered her fingers in a wave and walked out, her long, lean legs eating up the distance toward the beach.
“She really moves, doesn’t she?” Barb stood staring after her. “I wish I could walk that fast.”
“My sister told me you had a hip replacement not long ago. I don’t think you’re supposed to move quite that fast after major surgery.” He watched Barb stamp each of his books. “Can I see the list of books Alicia gave you to order for the sod house project? I’m curious which she chose.”
“She didn’t choose any. She wants them all.” Barb frowned. “Alicia’s never ordered books from me before, only tapes.” She shrugged. “In order to build the sod house, I guess she needs reference material.”
So Alicia wasn’t a reader. Jack mulled on that as he left the library. He dumped his books in the cab of the ratty old truck that had come with the hotel. As he turned, he noticed Alicia sitting on a bench on the beach, sipping from a thermal cup as she stared over the bay.
“Don’t do it,” he told himself, but that didn’t stop his feet from crunching over the stones to where she sat. “Mind if I join you?” He couldn’t quite hide his wince as the sharp pebbles pressed into his soles.
“I think you’d better sit before you fall down.” Her gaze slid to his feet then back to his face. Her brown eyes glinted. “I warned you those boots wouldn’t work here.”