“You look like there’s a storm brewing in that pretty head of yours.”
She nodded, but words wouldn’t come out. In fact, all she wanted to do was cry. She battled to keep the tears from pouring down her face.
A battle she lost.
“Oh, Havyn. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you.” He took her elbow and led her over to a bench the men often sat on when working on the milking equipment.
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I appreciate you. More than you know.”
“What’s wrong, then?”
“Everything.”
Taking a deep breath, she stared into his dark eyes and wished she could get lost in them . . . just forget all the worries of the world. But she couldn’t. “The doctor confirmed on his last visit that Mama has whooping cough, and he told us that she’s been suffering from severe asthma for a while. She never even told us. Why didn’t we know? We could have helped her.” She choked on a sob. “And then there’s Granddad. He’s struggling to get well, but he told me a while before it all happened that he was worried about apoplexy. At least, Dr. Gordon had been. I found Granddad one time in the barn, collapsed, and he confided in me, then told me not to tell anyone else. I kept his secret, but Dr. Kingston told me that if they had known earlier, they could have prevented the attacks from happening.” Staring down at her lap, she watched the tears drip. “It’s all my fault.”
John lifted her chin with his finger and made her look at him. “This is not your fault. None of it. So get that out of your head right now. Just because you kept your grandfather’s secret doesn’t mean that you are responsible for his illness.”
“Don’t you understand? All these years, I’ve been the family’s secret keeper. Because I’m trustworthy. But what if my keeping all these secrets is wrong? What if it ends up amounting to lying?” She looked back down at her hands. Her father’s secret came back to mind. Was she wrong not to tell Mama or Granddad?
“You can’t beat yourself up over this, Havyn. It won’t do any good, because you can’t change the past.”
She nodded but couldn’t get the picture of her dad out of her mind.
“Havyn. Look at me. Please.” His voice had gotten soft and pleading.
She did as he asked. There was such compassion in his gaze. And something more . . . something deeper that she didn’t understand.
“I know this isn’t easy for you and I’m so sorry you’ve carried so many burdens all your life. Burdens that probably weren’t yours to carry. But you’ve got to forgive yourself. If you’ve held something back that you shouldn’t have, then make it right.” He paused and stared at her, his gaze intense. “I think it’s admirable that you’re the secret keeper.”
It made her laugh. “You do?”
“Yep. Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course. I’ll keep it along with the rest.”
“It just makes me adore you even more.” He slid a finger down her cheek.
For a moment, everything vanished. It was just her and John.
And it was beautiful.
“You adore me? But . . . I thought you didn’t feel comfortable with Granddad’s contract?”
He leaned back and his eyes widened. “Ah, so that’s why you stopped talking to me for a while. You thought I meant . . .” He shook his head and looked away for a moment. She waited until he turned back to her. He cleared his throat. “Let me clear this up right now. I was uncomfortable with the contract not because I didn’t care for you, but because I wanted to fall in love naturally. And when I did, I wanted the one I chose to know that I loved her. Not what her grandfather had to offer.”
As his words sank in, she sucked in a breath. “So . . .” She bit her lip. Was he saying what she thought he was? “You adore me?”
The tenderness in his smile warmed her from head to toe. “I do. I adore your spirit and your love of family and, of course . . . your love of your chickens.” He scooted closer to her and took her hand in his. “You have a spirit that invigorates me and makes me look for the beautiful things of life. After speaking with you, I feel refreshed, and when I hear you sing or play—I’m transported to a place where problems cannot reach me. You are one of a kind, Havyn. A special and beautiful lady and I’m a better man for knowing you.”
Her spirit soared. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear you say that, John. You’ve become special to me as well.”
“I’m glad to hear it. That’s a good start.”
“A good start for what?” She shook her head and continued before he could reply. “Wait. No. I can’t be selfish right now. I’m worried about my family. How are we going to manage keeping up our performances at the Roadhouse, taking care of the farm, taking care of Mama and Granddad, plus trying to make cheese now? We owe the workers, we owe Mr. Reynolds. We owe the doctor.” Her breaths came faster and faster.
John grabbed both of her hands and held them. “Slow down. I’m here, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that everything gets done. Don’t you worry about the finances. I’ll take care of it. Okay?”
“But we owe you too, and it won’t be that long before we head back into winter. We need to order straw and lots of hay and grain. We need to build new pens and sheds for the sheep. There’s so much to do to prepare for winter. It’s never easy up here. Without Granddad and Mama, the workloads will be impossible.”
“Stop worrying about it, Havyn. I won’t leave you to face it alone, nor will God. You know that. God has provided for you over and over. I’ve heard you say as much.”
“I do believe that, but . . .”
“But what?”
“What if He stops? What if Granddad dies? What if we lose Mama? What if . . . ?” She couldn’t continue, because John put his finger against her lips.
“Life is full of what-ifs, and I’ve yet to see even one of them resolve anything or make a bad situation better. I care about you, Havyn . . . and I care about the others. I’m going to do whatever I can to help get you all through this. If there is loss—we’ll bear it together. If there is gain—we’ll rejoice. Together. The Bible says two are better than one. You’re one and I’m one and together we make two. We’ll be there for each other and that will strengthen us both. Agreed?” He slipped his arm around her shoulder.
She leaned into him. “Agreed.” With a nod, she put her head on his shoulder.
He tightened his hold on her. “There. Isn’t this better?”
“Yes,” Havyn whispered. “Much better.”
After he finished cleaning the milk barn, John readied the wagon to take supplies to the Roadhouse. Mr. Norris oversaw the delivery and paid John per the regular agreement.
“I could definitely use more of everything.” Norris nodded. “With the girls singing every night, my business has tripled. Can’t keep enough food in stock. I guess there are a lot of men out there who are just looking for a good hot meal and some pleasant entertainment.”
Climbing back up to the wagon seat, John agreed. “It beats getting robbed at the gambling tables or being given watered-down whiskey and beer. I’ll see what we can do about increasing your supplies.” He wasn’t sure how, but God would provide. John just had to have faith.
He slapped the lines and headed to Reynolds’s Shipping and Freight. He didn’t want to leave the girls alone too long. Whitney was caring for their mother but had plans to go with some of the native people to fish. The amount of food she needed for her dogs was outrageous, especially during winter. So they had to dry it and smoke it so it would store for the winter months.
Madysen did what she could for their grandfather while Havyn was caring for her chickens.
And that was what brought him to the freight yard today. Judas sent him a message that the chickens had arrived. It was exciting to think that he would surprise Havyn. She needed something good right now. They all did. And John would do just about anything to make her smile. What’s more, he didn’t want to leav
e Havyn.
Ever.
What did that really mean? While the thought of marriage had crossed his mind, this was the first time he believed it could happen. Sure, they worked together and saw each other every day, but he didn’t want to rush anything. Especially after the fiasco of Whitney finding the contract. Which he wasn’t sure the eldest Powell daughter had gotten over.
It was times like this that John wished his mother were still alive. If she were, he could talk to her about his feelings for Havyn and ask about the proprieties of courtship and engagement. But she wasn’t, and Mrs. Powell was far too sick to bother.
At least right now he could focus on the farm. Keep things running. Keep the workers paid and income coming in. And try to keep the Powell women from overdoing it and getting sick themselves. These were his priorities for the time being. The best thing he could do for Havyn was provide. Show that he loved her by his actions.
He pulled up to the shipping company. Would the chickens he’d ordered make Havyn happy? They were already laying eggs, so they would be a perfect addition to their flock.
He set the brake and jumped down.
Judas Reynolds came out the main door and greeted him. “Glad you made it, John.”
“I’ll have to get them loaded up quick, sir. Still have a lot of work back at the farm.”
“And how are our sick folk?” Reynolds joined John at the back of the wagon.
“Hard to say. Mrs. Powell doesn’t seem any better. Dr. Kingston says whooping cough has been going around.”
“Yes. I think we’ve managed to ward off a full-blown epidemic, but it’s taken several lives.”
“I worry that it will do the same with Mrs. Powell. She’s not very strong. Not like her girls.”
The shipping owner smiled. “Yes, those Powell girls are something else. The very picture of health and vitality. Quite the beauties too. I can’t imagine why they aren’t married.”
Well . . . this was an awkward turn of conversation. Definitely not one he cared to have with Mr. Reynolds. “I need to hurry.”
“Well then, let me help you get loaded.” Reynolds gave him another broad grin. “Just bring your wagon to the back. I’ve left the chickens in the crates since they just arrived today.”
“Thank you.” John jumped back up in the wagon and followed Judas behind the huge warehouse. When he rounded the corner, his eyes went wide. “That’s a lot of crates.”
“I admit, I might have ordered more than you asked for.” He held up his hands before John could protest. “I wanted to make sure you had enough. And to account for transit deaths. We lost five on the way up, but that will be my loss.” He motioned to one of his men, then looked back to John. “I know how high the demand is in town for eggs, so we need your supply to match it.”
“But I can’t possibly pay you for the extras right now. What I gave you was all I had. It’s impossible for me to come up with double the money.”
Reynolds looked to his man. “Load these in Mr. Roselli’s wagon.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The large, well-muscled man stacked several crates on top of each other and headed for the wagon.
“Look, John, the money isn’t a problem. I trust you. I know you’ll be able to pay for them eventually. Let me do this for you now to help you all get back on your feet. Whitney even told me that you are starting to make cheese. I’ll help get the word out. That will boost your sales.”
The man really was generous to a fault. “Sir, I don’t even know what to say. But thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. You just keep the dairy and poultry yard running for Chuck. He’s a good friend. And we’re all praying for his speedy recovery—Mrs. Powell’s too.”
“Thanks again. I will pass that along as well.”
As he drove the wagon back toward the farm, John thought about Judas Reynolds. It was a wonderful thing to have a man like him in their community. Since coming north, John had often heard it said that the only way to survive in Alaska was for every man to be selfless and be there for one another. It was clear Mr. Reynolds took this to heart. No wonder his freighting company was so successful.
Twenty-Three
Fifty?” Havyn stared at the crates. “Fifty new layers? Oh, John, that’s wonderful! How did you ever manage it?” She threw her arms around him.
“I should have gotten twice as many if this is the reward.” John held her close.
His words made her heart pound. She pulled away. “Sorry. It’s just everything has been so bad and this is wonderful. I can hardly believe you did this. How could you afford it?”
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let me worry about that. It’s just great to see you smile like that.”
She went to the back of the wagon. “It looks like some of these crates have five hens and others four . . . some even six. I would imagine they’re desperate to be out. Would you help me with them?”
“Just tell me what you want me to do.” He shot her a grin.
Her stomach did a little flip.
“Havyn?”
She blinked. “Hmm?” The chickens. “Oh, right. Let’s put them in the short run, where we put the baby chicks. With it running alongside the main yard, the other hens can get used to the new arrivals and vice versa. And I’ll have an easier time naming them.”
“You’re going to name fifty new hens?” John scratched his head.
She laughed at the look on his face. “Well, we can’t have them nameless. I mean, what would I call them when we converse?”
He chuckled. “How thoughtless of me.”
The sparkle in his eyes did that thing to her stomach again. Oh, she was hopeless. “You’re excused this time since you aren’t a full-time chicken man, but next time I’ll expect you to remember the importance.”
“I will, I promise. Now let me go get a crowbar and we can get down to business. I wouldn’t want to keep Henrietta waiting.” He pointed to a chicken in one of the top crates.
She couldn’t have covered up her surprise if she wanted to. Havyn put her hands on her hips. “How do you know her name is Henrietta?”
“That’s simple.” John shrugged. “She told me.” He turned to the crate. “Didn’t you, girl?”
The chicken squawked.
“That’s right. You tell her . . . apparently, she doesn’t believe me.”
The whole crate erupted in chatter.
John held up his hands. “I hear ya, but if you all talk at once, I can’t understand.”
Laughter spilled out of Havyn. At that moment, she knew.
God had answered her prayer.
Though tired beyond belief, Whitney couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Their financial situation was just so . . . unsettled. It was all fine and dandy that John had paid everyone so far, but she couldn’t allow him to give up his salary much longer. That was like he was a member of the family . . . and she wasn’t ready for that yet.
The longer she thought about it, the more the contract made sense from Granddad’s point of view. And John had been honest, hardworking . . . loyal. But something made her hesitant about him.
Granted, it was nice to have a foreman. And she had to admit that he wasn’t as bad as she first suspected. But that didn’t change things. It was her duty. Her responsibility.
Mama moved in her bed.
Whitney sat up and checked on her. Please . . . not another coughing fit. When they hit, it sometimes took hours for Mama to be able to breathe regularly again.
Her mother’s eyes opened. “Whitney . . .” Her voice was raspy and breathy.
She moved to her mother’s bedside. “I’m here.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Mama.” No matter how strong she tried to be, hearing her mother’s weak voice made tears spring to her eyes.
“Christopher needs to see you.”
Everything spiraled downward. “Mama, he’s gone.”
“But he needs to see you. How well you’ve turned out.
No need for another family. Three beautiful girls . . .” Her eyes shifted to the ceiling. “Oh, Chris . . .”
Was she seeing their dad? No. No. She couldn’t be—she couldn’t be that sick. “No, Mama, stay here. Please.”
“Did Papa lie? Or did you fool us all?” Her eyes remained glued to the ceiling.
Whitney looked up to check if anything was above their mother’s head, but she didn’t find anything but the painted plaster. “Mama, I don’t understand.”
Her mother’s eyes turned toward her again. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all be okay.”
With a nod, Whitney gave her mother a smile. “I know. You’re going to be all right. You just need to rest. I love you.”
“Love you too.” She closed her eyes. And then another coughing spasm hit.
Whitney lifted her mother to a sitting position and held her while the cough wracked her frame. The spasms shook her body, taking every last bit of Mama’s energy and breath. Then the coughing stopped and Mama tried to breathe. She sucked in, but her throat made an agonizing croaking noise. She went limp in Whitney’s arms.
The suffering her mother was going through made Whitney want to scream. But instead, tears sprang to her eyes.
Mama took a breath.
Thank goodness the spasms had stopped. She watched her mother take another deep breath. Mama’s brow was covered in sweat. Lord, I don’t know how much longer she can go through this. It’s so hard to watch. Please help her. And please heal Granddad too.
Exhausted after the episode and her own lack of sleep, she checked on her mother’s breathing and then went back to the pallet she’d made on the floor. Sliding her feet under the covers, she lay on her back. What had Mama been saying about Dad? It didn’t make sense. She must have been dreaming. Or had the sickness warped her mind?
If something happened to Mama, she wasn’t sure what that would do to all of them. Oh, she and Havyn were strong and would grieve, but they would keep moving forward. But Madysen? Such a loss could break her spirit. She relied on their mother the most. Who could ever fill those shoes?
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