Allan’s questions could be put to rest. His dreams come to fruition. Maybe they could even square away the disaster that happened with the company.
It was funny—although he didn’t trust Frank, Allan thought him far less imposing than he’d expected. The man was accommodating and even pleasant. When he made suggestions and John or Allan overruled them, he yielded. Often he was even self-abasing, admitting how little he knew and how grateful he was for their wisdom. Maybe he really had changed.
Allan wasn’t entirely sure they were being all that wise, given the way they were advancing their plans. John had always been a very cautious man who gave heavy regard to the details. This time . . . there wasn’t that luxury. Now they had to scramble for everything from gloves and mittens to thick woolen socks and backpacks.
It was a good thing John had gotten that info from Karstens regarding the food. Last week’s hunt had been prosperous, and they had enough homemade pemmican balls made to make it through the whole trip. Of course they still needed a variety of other stores, but Mr. Bradley had been generous after their promise to repay. They were blessed.
Now if he could just talk to Cassidy, all would be right with the world.
He glanced at his watch. It was well over an hour past the time they usually met. Something must have happened to keep her occupied. It wasn’t like they had any promises to meet there. But until now—she had come with regularity.
Allan couldn’t help feeling the loss of her company. Cassidy affected him in a way he’d never known. She’d encouraged his love of Alaska and of Denali. The mountain was no longer just the place where his father had died. It had become a steadfast companion, constant and in many ways comforting. Through Cassidy’s eyes, Allan had learned to look for the positive things in life—the good in people—joy in the moment. She had a passion and a love for life and Alaska that exceeded anything Allan had ever experienced. He wondered if there would ever be a chance . . . a time when she could love Allan with that same degree of passion.
He looked down at his watch and then once more in the direction Cassidy had always come in the past. Nothing. He put aside his disappointment and headed for the staff sleeping quarters. They had an early morning fishing trip planned with some guests, so he’d better head on to bed. He’d have to find Cassidy at luncheon tomorrow.
For two straight days, she’d managed to avoid him, but Allan couldn’t figure out why. Sure, their schedules were jam-packed, but that hadn’t stopped them from finding time to chat before. John said that he hadn’t spoken to Cassidy either, which was doubly strange. Maybe Mrs. Johnson had some major event coming that the men didn’t know about. That would explain it. But he decided to wait in the dining room anyway. Just in case.
Allan sat down with a paper from Seattle and decided to catch up on the news from last month. Between the President’s visit, then subsequent death, and everything else at the Curry, Allan had no idea what was going on in the rest of the world. Frank happened upon him shortly after Allen finished with the front page.
“We’ve had so little time to talk since my arrival,” Frank said, taking a chair opposite Allan. “I know there’s much to be said between us.”
Allan put the paper aside. “Yes, I suppose there is.”
“I’m sure you have questions about Louis.”
With a nod Allan fixed his gaze on Frank. “Yes. A great many.”
“Well, I suppose the temptations were just too great. I’ve been suspicious of the man for years. I tried to overlook the occasional discrepancy for the sake of the family, but the loss became far too regular.”
“And you questioned him about this?”
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” Frank countered. “He would never have admitted to it. I think the fact that you called for an audit of the books left him trembling in his boots. I was quite grateful that you made the decision for that. It took some of the pressure off of me.”
“I would still like to hear what Louis has to say.”
“Oh, I’m sure he would have some sort of excuse—if he admitted to any of it. I think for the sake of the family it’s probably best to just let bygones be bygones.”
Allan knew better than to believe Frank—at least the old Frank. But what about now? “So you don’t intend to press charges?”
“Well, I had considered it. I’m not one to treat thievery lightly. I always figure it just encourages others to take advantage. However, in this circumstance, there are only a handful of people who know the truth. To have him arrested would force your entire family into scandal. Your good name would be dragged through the courts and I fear it would spell disaster for the company.”
“I’m not afraid of that.” Allan could see his statement caused Frank to squirm. “In fact, I would welcome a trial. I want to get to the bottom of it. I want the truth to be told. If Louis has done what you say he did, he deserves to go to prison.”
Allan heard Cassidy’s distinctive laugh. He had to speak to her. He turned back to Frank. “If you don’t mind, I have some business to attend to.”
“As do I.” Frank jumped up, seeming only too happy to put an end to the conversation. “I hope you have a productive day, my boy. I find it most difficult to wait for our impending journey.” He gave Allan a nod and made his way from the dining room just as Cassidy entered. Allan watched as she stepped aside to let Frank pass. He gave her a nod and then disappeared.
Allan thought she looked relieved. At least until she turned back and saw him. Anxiety mixed with what appeared to be distaste filled her expression.
“What’s wrong?” He stood and crossed the room to be near her.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe that for one minute, Cassidy.” He stepped closer to her. “I thought we’d just been too busy to see each other, but now, by the look on your face, I’m thinking that I’ve done something to upset you.”
Her hands fidgeted in front of her. She looked down for a moment and then looked back into his eyes. “I . . . I . . .”
The hurt he saw there was almost his undoing. For the rest of his days, he never wanted to see her look like that again. He took her hands in his. “Go on. What is it?”
“I’m worried.”
Her words took him aback. “Worried about what?”
“You . . . my father . . . the expedition. All of it.”
Was that all? He smiled. “Oh, Cassidy, there’s nothing to worry about. That’s why I was waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you about all the exciting things—”
“That’s just it.” She pulled away. “It’s going to be mid-September when you leave. The temps will still be moderate most likely, but I’ve seen the snow fly here in early September. Snow down here means major snow up there. And you’re heading into the wilderness knowing this! My father used to always say that June, July, and August were the best times to do any climbing in Alaska. I just don’t understand. You were planning an expedition for next year. And then Frank comes along and says, ‘Hey, let’s do it now’ and you all just think it’s a grand plan? Why do you even trust the man?” She placed her hands on her hips.
Allan had never seen her feisty like this. She’d always been so positive and upbeat and now she seemed . . . well, to be honest, she seemed angry. He held up both his hands. “I came up here wanting to climb Mount McKinley eventually. You knew that. I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Happy? How could I be happy? The time of year is a disaster, the time crunch is a disaster, my dad is still healing from a disaster, and you stubborn men are dashing around to make all these plans, and you didn’t even think to ask how I felt about it when the two men I care most about in all the world—” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
The words were like a punch to the gut. But a good one—if there could be such a thing. She was worried about him and she cared for him. Sweeter words couldn’t have ever been said.
Allan took hold of her arms with a new confidence. “Cassidy .
. . I’m sorry. It was wrong for us to not include you.” He inched closer to her again, intent on doing what he’d wanted to do for a very long time—kiss her. “Forgive me?”
Tears spilled out of her eyes and without a word she pushed him away so hard that he nearly lost his balance. Allan steadied himself and started to call out to her, but she was already gone.
He thought about going after her, then decided against it. She obviously needed time, and he knew what that felt like. A slow smile formed and Allan couldn’t resist whirling on the heel of his boot. She cared about him. In that moment he felt like he could have run straight up the side of Denali.
Cassidy could hardly see for her tears by the time she crested Deadhorse Hill. She found her favorite rock and plopped down to have a good, long cry. Why did things have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t Allan and her father understand how hard this was for her?
She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She had a terrible feeling that something horrendous was going to happen to them on that mountain, but no one cared. No one would listen to anything she had to say about it.
Rustling sounded in the brush behind her. Cassidy stiffened. She’d been foolish to fly up here without her rifle. She drew in a deep breath to force her nerves to calm.
“Cassidy?”
Thomas peeked around the rock, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, but I saw you come up here and thought you looked upset.”
She let down her guard. “Oh, Thomas, you are probably the only one in the world who cares what I feel right now.”
He climbed up on the rock. “Why do you say that?”
Cassidy shook her head and straightened out the tangles of her skirt, then dried her eyes on the hem of her apron. “I don’t know. Besides, it’s not fair to burden you with my worries.”
Thomas shrugged. “You said we were friends—that we’d always be good friends. Don’t friends share their burdens?”
She was humbled by his gentle words. “Of course they do. I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard these last few days. I’m terribly worried about my father making this climb.”
“Don’t you think he knows what he’s doing?”
The question was asked innocently enough, but hit Cassidy like a slap to the face. Of course her father knew what he was doing. He’d never been one to take unreasonable chances. He was born and raised here, and he knew full well the dangers and how to avoid them.
“Thomas, you are quite amazing.” She forced a smile. “Of course my father knows what he’s doing. I suppose I’m being childish. He didn’t talk to me about it and I felt left out. Then when I tried to talk to Allan about it he . . . well . . . he didn’t help matters.”
“Your dad is the smartest man I know. He’s real careful too. I’ve learned a lot from him about how to do things so as not to get yourself or someone else hurt. You should trust him.”
She nodded. “I do. And I know I shouldn’t worry.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Thomas sounded quite the authority. “In my Bible study with your father he told me worry was a sin. It’s like saying that God doesn’t care enough to take care of the problem.”
Again she received his gentle chastisement with a smile. “And we both know there isn’t anything God doesn’t care about. I’ve been such a ninny, Thomas, and you were a good friend to deal with me honestly.”
He returned her smile. “I’ve never really had a friend until you, Miss Cassidy.”
“I’m certain you will make many friends as the years go by, Thomas. I’m sure my father already considers you one, and Allan too.”
“You like him a lot, don’t you? Mr. Brennan, that is.”
She was momentarily taken aback. Dare she be honest with him about her feelings for Allan, or would that only serve to reopen his wounded heart?
Thomas seemed to understand. “It’s all right, Miss Cassidy. I know you love him.”
“You do?” She shook her head. “How can you possibly know that?”
He shrugged. “Because I know what love looks like. You look like you feel things for him that I felt for you.”
“Oh, Thomas. . . .” She looked away, afraid she might start crying all over again.
Thomas touched her arm. Cassidy forced herself to look at him. He was such a sweet boy.
“Don’t be sad, Miss Cassidy. Love is a good thing to feel.”
23
The entire staff of the Curry and most if its guests were standing in the grass by the dock on the Susitna River.
The day had finally arrived. September the fourteenth, 1923.
Allan could hardly believe it. Today, they’d start their journey to Denali.
Frank came up beside him and patted his back. “This takes me back, son. I can’t tell you how privileged I am to have shared this with your father and now with you.”
“Thanks, Frank.” He had an instinct to want to cringe every time Frank called him “son,” but he held himself in check.
The past few weeks had been exhausting but worth it. Nothing could put a damper on the joy he felt to be on his way to a dream. Nothing except saying good-bye to Cassidy.
She’d apologized to him for her treatment of him that day in the dining room but hadn’t resumed their evening walks. Their conversations had been few and far between the past couple of weeks, but she appeared supportive, and he appreciated that effort. The time away would give them both a chance to really think about their future and what they wanted. Allan was confident that he already knew that he wanted Cassidy for his wife, but first he had to settle things with Frank and finally lay his father to rest.
The boat arrived that would take them downriver and south a bit to a better location to cross the ridge to the west. Frank headed toward the boat. “Guess we better get going.” He walked down the dock.
John said good-bye to Thomas and Mr. Bradley and thanked them for their help and support. Then he hugged his daughter good-bye.
Allan couldn’t hear their words to each other, but he noticed a long hug. John waved to the crowd and walked down the dock as well.
Then Cassidy came to Allan. He’d been hoping she would spare a moment for him.
“Hi.” He had nothing profound to say.
“Hi.” She smiled. “Well, this is it, isn’t it?” Reaching forward, she grabbed both his hands in hers. Allan forced himself not to show his surprise. “I’ll be praying for you every day.”
“Thank you. I’m sure we’ll need it.”
She nodded. “Dad gave me your basic itinerary, so we’ll know about where you’ll be. Just be safe and don’t ever risk the weather.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He winked at her.
Tears formed in her eyes. “I’ll be looking forward to when you get back.”
“Me too.” There weren’t words to describe how he felt, but hopefully she knew. And when he returned, he’d tell her.
“Please watch over Dad. He’s . . . well . . . you know.”
He smiled. “He’ll be just fine. I’ll see to it.”
She nodded and reached into her apron pocket for a hankie and an envelope fell to the ground. “Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry. I almost forgot. This came for you just before breakfast.” She wiped her nose and her eyes and handed over the envelope. “Please be careful.”
“I will.” He tucked the telegram into his jacket pocket, certain it was something that couldn’t wait, but he didn’t want Frank to see it. “You too.”
He tapped her nose with his finger and headed to the boat. Waving to the crowd, he wondered if Cassidy would think about him as much as he thought about her.
The first day passed without incident, although Allan was a bit saddlesore from the number of miles they’d covered. And they’d made it all the way across the Susitna by boat and then the Chulitna River and beyond by horse. Their first camp was made without mishap at the base of the Ruth Glacier.
John’s friends from the Ahtna tribe had a hot meal waiting for them and told them of the journey for the next few d
ays. They’d be snowshoeing once they made it to the top of the glacier, and the sled teams would carry their supplies.
The thrill that rippled through him now was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Here he was at the base of a glacier, with Denali in his majesty towering in the distance. Allan couldn’t take it all in.
Blue ice walls rose from the rock below him in great ripples. Their jagged edges looked sharp and uninviting. He couldn’t help wondering what his dad had thought when he’d first seen this sight.
Their team had left the trees much earlier in the day. John had explained that the tree line was at its height at one thousand feet because of the glaciated land around them.
It was all so beautiful and amazing.
Their camp was several hundred yards away from the actual glacier so that just in case the glacier walls calved in the night, they wouldn’t be buried in glacial ice.
Allan listened to the native Athabaskan tongue flow off the men. John joined in and laughed. What a beautiful language and what incredible people. These men were tough as nails and yet loved to teach Allan new things. The one Allan questioned the most never seemed to lose patience with him. No wonder John was the amazing man he was.
Frank stood up and stretched. He’d been quiet most of the day and went from friendly to wearing a scowl as soon as they’d met up with the Athabaskan party. “I’m tired. I think I’ll hit the hay for the night.”
Allan nodded. “All right.”
After Frank left, one of the Athabaskan men walked over and sat by Allan. “Your friend isn’t very friendly.”
“No, he doesn’t seem to be.”
“But he’s not looking forward to this adventure the way you are, is he?” The man’s eyes twinkled.
“No, he’s not. And you’re right, I’m excited about this adventure.”
“Anyone who respects the Great One like you do will be blessed.” He looked down at the pile at Allan’s feet. “Do you need help with those?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. These are different snowshoes than I’ve used before.”
In the Shadow of Denali Page 22