by Lois Richer
Maybe she wanted to be free of him and Giselle and their problems.
“I’ve been meeting with Rick a lot lately,” he admitted.
Alicia gave him a quick sideways glance, but her gaze didn’t meet his.
Her eyes flared but Jack didn’t want to get into it. It was still too personal, so he said, “Shall we check out our creation?”
“We should do a last inspection to make sure it’s all good. And then we should have a pizza party for them.” She nodded toward the boys, who were all busy with the final touches on the house.
“Good idea.” Jack walked around the structure with Alicia at his side.
Pride swelled at what they’d created together. He suppressed a laugh when she mentioned a new project she was considering. Alicia never stopped. Suddenly he wondered why he hadn’t heard her speak lately about opening a second store. She’d seemed very gung ho about it when he’d first arrived.
“Are you okay?” he asked when she checked over one shoulder, scanning the town as if she was looking for something.
“Of course.” She flashed her lovely smile, although it didn’t seem genuine to Jack.
That same uneasy feeling pricked his senses, but after a moment’s consideration Jack brushed it away. This was Churchill. No criminals lurked around the corner here.
Their walk surveying the sod house proved one thing. It was ready for the celebration day tomorrow. Alicia called the group together.
“Everything looks great.” Excitement threaded her words. This time she looked directly at him, her dark eyes sparkling. “I want to thank Jack for helping us with this project.”
Jack waited for the applause to end.
“This was totally my pleasure.” He gazed into Alicia’s eyes, meaning every word. “I didn’t think I wanted to do this at first. But look what we’ve built. It’s amazing. Thank you, Alicia, for leading us.”
Once again the boys whopped and hollered with their applause.
“The most important part of this sod house was you.” Alicia exchanged a look with each boy. “Look what you did. You pushed through the rain and wind and ignored people who said it couldn’t be done. You proved you could do it. You have helped make understanding Churchill’s history easier. Was it worth it?”
Every single boy answered in a roar. “Yes!”
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. Put forward your best effort. Be proud of your work,” she said. “I am.”
Jack’s chest swelled with pride for Alicia. She had a smear of mud on one cheek. Her hair had pulled free of its clasp and blew in the breeze. Her nails were smudged, her clothes filthy, and yet she glowed with a beauty that had nothing to do with her appearance.
Everything about Alicia Featherstone was lovely.
“I’m ready for pizza. Where’s Giselle?” Alicia asked him.
“She’ll be along. Let’s go.” Seeing Alicia’s worry made Jack wish he hadn’t promised to remain silent until Giselle unveiled her surprise.
Jack loved the lighthearted way Alicia bumped his shoulder as they walked toward the café. She teased the boys mercilessly so that everyone was laughing when they squeezed into the booths inside Polar Bear Pizzas. Obviously clued in ahead of time, owner Mindy Smart set pitchers of soda on each table. Alicia took note of each boy’s favorite kind of pizza.
“What about Giselle? What kind does she like?” Because Alicia was squeezed beside him in the booth with the boys, her breath brushed his cheek as she shifted to get more comfortable.
“Giselle eats whatever kind of pizza there is. She’s not picky.” Jack didn’t budge. Instead he swung his arm over the back of the seat so Alicia could slide nearer. He grinned when his daughter rushed through the door.
He wasn’t as pleased when she scooted in beside Eli, but Alicia’s talk with Adam had convicted Jack. He’d struggled to accept the boy’s friendship with Giselle without knowing anything about him. A lot of people had done the same thing, prejudged Alicia. Seeing how deeply it had wounded her made Jack determined not to prejudge a kid.
He leaned back, content to let Alicia carry the conversation. She answered a thousand questions, announced the town crews would erect a sign at the sod house before the train arrived tomorrow morning and generally eased fears about whether their work was good enough.
“Come winter, we’ll add a snow tunnel at the entrance,” she promised. “That will keep the snow out of the house and cut down on the wind erosion.”
There was a moment of silence as the boys realized that by winter they might have completed the sentence they’d been ordered to serve at Lives Under Construction, but Alicia quickly cheered them. When conversation left her free, Jack leaned closer.
“You have a knack with kids, Alicia. You should have a bunch of your own.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.
Her face paled. He thought she’d faint. Her hand shook as she reached out to take a drink. She avoided his gaze.
Jack didn’t have a clue how to mend his mistake.
The pizza came and was devoured. Giselle made her announcement and showed off her handiwork. She held out a pair of leather slippers.
“Beading on moccasins like these was done during long cold winter nights and it was done by candlelight.” She beamed with pride as Alicia admired her work. Then she continued with her next item. “Finger weaving was a fun way to create games and also decorate small bits of clothing. I’ll show everyone how to do it tomorrow. This is a sash. Cree people made these to remember their ancestors just like we do with family trees.”
“Amazing job, Giselle. These will all go in our house with Garret’s photo book.” She looked around at the faces at the table. “What a wonderful group to work with. As my thank-you, the cake’s on me.” Alicia’s voice sounded normal, but Jack had a hunch she was hiding her emotions.
Alicia smiled as Mindy carried out a decorated cake with a little house outlined on it. After dessert, when Laurel arrived to take the boys home, Alicia hugged each one, murmuring encouragement in every ear. She did the same to Giselle.
But when she turned to Jack he knew something was wrong. Her smile was too forced, her body too stiff.
“Thanks so much for all your help, too, Jack,” she said, but she didn’t look directly at him. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. I suggest we relax tonight. Good night.”
Jack watched her go, aching because something he’d said had obviously hurt her. He yearned to gather her in his arms and chase away whatever had her worried. But Alicia was an independent woman. She wouldn’t cry on his shoulder. She was all about being strong and self-sufficient. She certainly wouldn’t admit her problem to him.
“Is something bothering Alicia?” Giselle frowned as she watched her heroine walk away. “She seems sort of down.”
“She’s probably tired. So am I. Let’s go home.” He slung an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “About those questions you’ve been asking… I think we should see Pastor Rick together.”
“Really, Dad?”
“Maybe he can help both of us.” Jack noticed Giselle’s focus was on Alicia, who stepped into her store.
“I wish we could do something for her,” Giselle murmured, finally turning away to walk to the hotel with him. “I love Alicia. I want her to be happy.” His daughter gazed up like a child who expected her parent to make everything okay. “Can’t you do something, Daddy?”
“I wish I could, sweetheart.” He brushed the bangs off her forehead and planted a kiss there. “But I don’t know how to help Alicia.” All he knew was that something about his comment that she should have kids had made her extremely sad.
In that moment Jack decided that if it took all night, he was going to figure out a way to make sure Alicia had a happy day tomorrow.
Six hours later, seated on his deck with his favorite latte in hand, Jack finally asked himself why Alicia’s happiness mattered so much.
The answer scared the d
aylights out of him.
Because he wanted her in his life.
With all the risks that entailed.
*
“We haven’t had so many summer tourists in town at one time for years,” Lucy enthused. “I’ve already sold all of our hand-knit sweaters and socks and it’s hot outside.” Her gleeful tone died suddenly. She tipped her head to one side. “Are you coming down with something?”
“No. Just tired.” Alicia knew Lucy had seen her staring out the window at Jack as he hurried past. “I’ve really appreciated you looking after the store for me while we worked on the sod house. I couldn’t have done it otherwise.”
“Sweetie, I’m delighted to have contributed. Hector will tell you that I’m useless when it comes to building things. Or climbing around on the rocks for that matter.” She brushed the loose strands of hair off Alicia’s face. “You did a wonderful thing. Now let me handle Tansi and you go enjoy that Inuit demonstration you nagged council to bring here.”
“Thanks. I’ll bring you some lunch,” Alicia promised after pressing a kiss against Lucy’s downy white curls.
“Oh, no thanks, dear. Hector’s taken care of all that.” She beamed as if a lunch with her husband of fifty-seven years was still a big deal.
“That’s what I want,” Alicia muttered as she strode toward the sod house. “An enduring love that doesn’t diminish with age and time. Can You help me with that, Lord?”
The only response was the slap of her feet against the sidewalk. But the sight of the boys and Giselle gathered around the sod house and the new sign cheered her.
“Our house is open from one to five, so let’s go enjoy the demonstration and then come back.”
As they were leaving Jack, hurried over from the lodge to join them.
“I’m guessing you have a full house,” Alicia said.
He grinned and Alicia caught her breath at his handsome face. When she dared to dream of being married, it was Jack she saw in her future, laughing with her, enjoying the smallest events of life together: a picnic on the beach, a snowball fight, a Christmas Eve in front of the fire.
He’d tease, laugh at her in that cute way he had when the lines around his eyes fanned out and worry left his blue eyes. They’d have fun together. She’d show him the remote village where she’d lived with her parents, share how they’d influenced her life and talk about them as she’d seldom done. He’d show her his favorite haunts in Vancouver.
Maybe Jack would invite his friends here, introduce her to them. They would do all the silly things couples in love did: steal a kiss when no one was looking, hold hands under the table, write little love notes… Her heart stopped.
Even if these daydreams came true, even if he did write love notes, she couldn’t read them. Lucy had tried to teach her but with little success. After some research she’d suggested that Alicia might have something called dyslexia. Alicia remembered that label from the Vancouver school where she’d been taking that special class with Mr. Parcet. She had made progress there, just not fast enough to keep up with the others in her class.
“Alicia?” Jack laid a hand on her arm. “We’re here,” he said, pointing to the tent perched on the bluff above the bay. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”
“Sorry,” she apologized, and ducked her head to hide her burning cheeks. “I was thinking.”
“You were worrying,” he corrected. “About the house?” He shook his head in reproof. “Everything is perfect. Now relax and enjoy.”
She drew a deep cleansing breath and nodded. “I’ll try.”
And in fact she did enjoy every moment. After an interesting presentation, extraordinary artifacts were unveiled and the history behind them explained. The caribou tent they’d erected was standing room only, so Alicia stood at the back beside Jack, enjoying the expression on his face as he heard of Native leaders’ past customs.
When the presentation ended, the boys moved through the crowd, handing out pamphlets about the sod house which Jack, Garret and Giselle had photocopied. Then the mayor drew everyone’s attention to the food booth set up in a central area where the Lives’ boys would sell sandwiches and cold drinks to raise funds for a future project.
“That’s our cue. Come on,” Jack grabbed her hand and together they raced to the booth one of the service clubs had lent them. “Thank heaven for Hector,” he said, watching as the older man hefted trays of sandwiches he’d brought from Lives.
“And Laurel. Without her, Lives Under Construction wouldn’t exist and the boys wouldn’t be here.” Alicia shared a smile with him and felt her heartbeat speed up. Jack grinned as he began to sell to the assembling crowd. He was a perfect helpmate.
They worked side by side nonstop.
“I think we’ve finally fed almost everyone,” she said to Laurel more than an hour later. “Make sure you tell Sara her brownies were the hottest seller.”
“We all did well.” Laurel shook her head as she looked at Alicia. “You look like you could use a break. Jack left to make sure all’s well at the sod house, but I saved a sandwich for you. Better take off that apron. You have soda all over it.”
“One of the Brown kids shook their root beer. I’m wearing most of it.” Alicia undid the sticky apron.
Just before she tucked it away, she remembered the note Giselle had given her from Jack. She reached into the apron pocket, but the napkin was soaked with soda and the ink had run so that even if she could read, the words were impossible to decipher.
She tucked it into her jeans pocket anyway. A note from Jack was to be treasured no matter what it said. The idea of soda did not appeal, so Alicia walked over to Common Grounds and ordered a cup of coffee to go.
“The presentation was a big success,” Mindy said as she handed over the cup. “Good for you for thinking of it. Someday, when you have time, I’d love you to bring something over for our display cases.” She tilted her head. “I think telling our history to tourists is a great idea.”
“I’ll think of something,” Alicia promised with a smile. She left the café deep in thought about Mindy’s offer and dearly wishing Jack was there so she could tell him about it. Sharing with Jack had become her priority and now everything she did was couched in, What would Jack think?
She was beginning to want his opinion on everything!
“Come with me. Make a sound and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” Strong fingers closed around her arm, almost dragging her toward the church.
Her head jerked toward the voice. No!
“Wh-what are you doing here, Mr. Parcet?” Alicia rasped, every nerve in her body seething with loathing. “What do you want?”
“As if you didn’t know.” He dragged her behind the church.
People were looking at her oddly, so Alicia went along, knowing that if she yelled or asked for help there would be too many questions. And she did not want to explain.
“Where’s your kid?” Jeremy Parcet shoved her against the stone side of the church and put his hands on either side of her head so that she had to look at him. “Tell me where he is or I’ll tell these new friends of yours all about your past, how you gave yourself to any man with money when you walked the streets in Vancouver.”
“That isn’t true!”
“Think anyone will believe that?” he sneered.
“I’ll tell them what you did,” she said in an almost-whisper because her shame was so great.
“Like I said before, who will believe you? You’d have to produce the kid.” He stood back, his face dark with foreboding. “I don’t want him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not a half-breed.”
The ugly word sickened her. But Mr. Parcet was not finished. He leaned in close, his face so near she could feel his breath on her face. Her stomach threatened to turn.
“I just want a blood test so I can collect my inheritance. Then your brat can go back to whatever slum he’s living in.” His fingers were now like handcuffs on her wrist. “I’ll give you two weeks. If you don
’t tell me where he is, everyone in this sad little town is going to hear all about the secret life of Alicia Featherstone. Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Feeling physically ill, Alicia pressed against the wall as hard as she could and prayed for help. Suddenly Rick’s voice resounded from the window above their heads, the open window of his office. Clearly startled, Mr. Parcet loosened his grip. Alicia seized her opportunity and broke free. She raced around the side of the church and hurried inside the cool, dim sanctuary.
There she huddled, heart hammering, until she heard the train whistle. Mr. Parcet would be on it when it left in a few hours, she knew that. No way would he stay in Churchill, the sad little town. Only it wasn’t. Churchill was Alicia’s home and she loved it.
How could God have let Mr. Parcet come here? How could He have let this man hurt her again?
And all she could think was, if Jack knew, if he heard Mr. Parcet’s story, he would despise her. Alicia didn’t think she could stand to see that in his eyes.
After all her preaching about faith, God had let her down.
Now there was nowhere to turn.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack paced across the beach, ignoring the jagged-edged stones that hurt his feet. He could hardly wait for Alicia to meet him here for lunch. He’d been reasonably confident it was the right thing to do. After all, he’d spent a lot of time praying about it last night as Rick had suggested. When dawn arrived, it seemed to Jack that God was leading him to Alicia.
The idea of letting someone get close again scared him to death. But Rick had urged him to stop living in fear and explore his growing feelings for Alicia, and Jack had decided last night that Alicia was worth the risk. That’s why he’d put together this picnic and lugged the basket down here.
He’d sent the note with Giselle to be certain Alicia wouldn’t miss or misplace it again. But she still wasn’t here. Maybe someone had stopped her at the sod house. Jack climbed back up the beach and surveyed the town site. But Alicia wasn’t at the sod house.
Then he saw someone in a red shirt emerge from Common Grounds. Certain it was Alicia, he started walking toward her, intending to call out. Suddenly a man grabbed her arm, said something to her, and Alicia walked with him toward the church.