Love Finds You in Glacier Bay, Alaska

by Tricia Goyer

  “I’m going to learn to shoot, Clay. I promise.” My heart struck against my chest just saying it, but I knew it wasn’t an option anymore. Janey could’ve been hurt or killed.

  “That may be wise.” Clay interlaced his fingers with mine. “I’ll help you.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Ginny dear, do you know if you’re eating at home tonight?”

  Grandma Ethel peeked out onto the porch. Ginny gently rocked on the swing. She paused, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

  “You all right, dear?” Grandma Ethel drew near. “Are you upset that Brett had to run and help Lee? It was a horrible thing that he lost his glasses in that hangar. I hope they can find them.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Ginny placed the letter on the table, her eyes wide. Did the bear come back? “And I’m not sure about dinner. Maybe I’ll cook. Would you like that?” She forced herself to look at Grandma Ethel. Forced herself to look away from the letter.

  Grandma Ethel’s eyes twinkled. “Little Janey doesn’t get eaten by a bear.”

  “What?” Ginny jerked her head back. “I hope not.” She placed a hand over her heart. “Well, I worried, but I was certain…almost certain…that wasn’t the case.”

  “You sure about that?” Grandma Ethel winked. “You looked very concerned, dear. That ol’ bear did scare me something fierce, though. The roar just outside the outhouse. On stormy days I’m reminded of it. And the feel of that fur through the cracks—”

  “Wait.” Ginny sat up straighter. She furrowed her brow. Had Brett’s grandma read these letters so often that she thought she lived them? Or… “Grandma Ethel. You’re not Janey, are you?”

  Grandma Ethel grinned. “I was wondering if you were going to figure it out, but seeing you read…I couldn’t keep it in any longer. My full name is Ethel Jane. My grandmother was Ethel, so they called me Janey. But after I married, Janey didn’t seem like a grown woman’s name, so I took on Ethel.”

  “So…you were there! Oh, I want to hear more about…everything! Could you tell they really loved each other, Ellie and Clay?”

  Grandma Ethel didn’t answer, but Ginny could see the answer in her eyes, in her smile. “I won’t give you even a clue now, otherwise it’ll ruin the rest of the letters, but I hope after reading them you’ll understand even more what I was telling you this morning.” She placed an open hand on Ginny’s cheek, pressing it softly. “Dear child, don’t try to figure out love, just embrace it…embrace it while you still have the chance.”

  Ginny nodded. What did that mean? She knew better than to press. Grandma Ethel—Janey—wouldn’t give her any more answers.

  With a smile, Grandma Ethel rose. “And don’t worry about dinner, dear. There’s some leftover meat loaf that Dove made. Just enjoy your time with Brett. Enjoy it while you have it. And until he comes, you better finish that letter. Otherwise you’ll be just too distracted if you don’t.”

  Clay stayed a bit. We sat out on the porch, playing guitar together. I like it now, even though my fingers were raw at first. It’s comforting and a joy to share with him.

  After Clay said good night, I settled the little ones back into bed, then wrote you that note. I have my own room, but with all of us—especially Janey—still distressed by our near escape, I slept on the rug in the living room with them. It had to be past midnight, the sun finally down. By the time I closed my eyes, it was dark.

  Sleep didn’t come, though, and about an hour later, I heard a woman’s cries coming from the yard. Within moments, the door banged open, and Joseph ran inside the house, carrying Tinle. Her face contorted in pain, her body shivered, and she was bent double. Her long hair hung in soggy strands beneath Joseph’s fingers.

  I jumped to my feet and raced to them. “What happened, Joseph? What happened?”

  “She’s hurt. Help her.” Joseph’s gaze stayed trained on Tinle.

  “Into my room.” Somehow the children remained asleep as I quickly guided him. He laid her on the bed, and I covered her with blankets. “She’s freezing. Go get some more blankets. Throw more wood in the stove. I’ll tend to Tinle.”

  Those childish eyes of his, so full of rage of late, brimmed with a whirlpool of emotions I couldn’t fathom. He gripped my hand. “Please help her.”

  “Get some blankets.”

  He raced out of the room, and I focused on Tinle, in so much pain. I didn’t know what had happened, but she was obviously suffering from hypothermia. I’ve heard it feels like hands suffocating the air out of you. We had to get her warm. I smoothed her hair, trying to calm her. After I removed the blankets, I changed her out of her wet clothes.

  And saw bloodstains. Growing larger.

  She saw that I saw. Her eyebrows gathered in the middle, her eyes tilted upward. Then she gripped my arm and cried out in Tlingit. I understood a little now. The word she said meant “baby.”

  How I prayed in that moment!

  “Please, help!” Her hot tears lined her frigid cheeks, dripped down her neck. So young, she had to be no older than seventeen. She couldn’t look at me, just grabbed her stomach and moaned. I got her out of her wet, bloodstained clothes and into a warm nightshirt, then covered her head with my wool hat.

  Her moaning slowed down. Her breathing too.

  “What happened, Tinle?”

  Joseph came in, loaded with blankets. Tinle’s eyes pierced mine. She shook her head sharply. “He go out!”

  I grasped her icy cold hand. “I need to know what happened. Then I’ll send him out.”

  He carefully layered each blanket over her.

  “It’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine. I love you.”

  “Go out!” Tinle faced the wall, didn’t look at him.

  His eyes betrayed his hurt, but with trembling hands, Joseph rubbed her arm. “We were down by the brook, filling water buckets, when that bear… He charged down the stream like he was after something. The sound was so loud it startled both of us, but Tinle slipped on a log and fell in.”

  “The bear?” I asked, a dread building in my chest. “The big black one?” The one I should’ve killed only a couple hours earlier?

  “It had to be the same one.” He covered his mouth. “It splashed away from us after whatever it was chasing. Then I spotted Tinle holding on to a downed log in the river. Somehow I was able to get her out.” He gazed into Tinle’s eyes. “It’s a miracle I was able to keep hold of her. Everything was a miracle.”

  I grabbed Joseph in a tight, quick hug. “You did so good, Joseph. I am so proud of you for saving her life.” I felt his sob.

  Jerking into a tight ball over her stomach, Tinle let out another gasp. “He go out!”

  Ignoring Joseph’s terrified look, I asked, “How long was she in the water?”

  “Just a few moments. Everything happened really fast.”

  “Thank the Lord.”

  Joseph reached for her hand, but she ripped it away. “Go! Joseph!”

  He shifted to me, searching my face for a clue. I wanted to tell him the truth, that she was pregnant, about to give birth, and the baby probably wouldn’t live, but she obviously didn’t want me to. I didn’t know what to do, Grandfather.

  “Go, Joseph,” I said with as much compassion as I could. “Get changed. I’ll let you know how she’s doing in a little bit.”

  Clay, who’d come in as Joseph left, knelt next to me. “What can I do?”

  Before I could answer, he noticed her holding her belly, the blood on the blankets. A breath escaped his lips. “She’s not—?”

  I touched Clay’s hand. “Yes, she’s with child, but it’s early. I don’t think—”

  I’ll never forget the pain in Clay’s face.

  More later.

  Ellie Bell

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  .......................

  Brett couldn’t wipe the silly grin off his face, and Ginny had a hard time focusing on the meal. The meat loaf was good, but
it tasted different from what Ginny was used to. She didn’t ask what kind of meat was in it. Didn’t want to know.

  She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Grandma Ethel was Janey. What had Ethel thought when Ellie had shown up? A stranger! How had she handled losing her mother? Did she remember her mother—Adelaide? Had she ever wished to live anywhere other than Glacier Bay?

  The phone rang, and Grandma Ethel ignored it. She turned to Brett. “It’s your mother, I’m certain. She’s calling me back. We’re planning a family reunion for next summer. Your great-uncle Elias and great-aunt Rose are coming all the way from San Francisco.”

  “Wait.” Ginny ran down the names of Ethel’s siblings. “Are those on your side?”

  “They’re my….” Grandma Ethel started, and then pinched her lips together and shook her head. She shook her finger Ginny’s direction. “Silly girl, you’re trying to get me to spill the beans, aren’t you?”

  Ginny was about to protest when the phone rang again. Grandma Ethel rose and wobbled toward it. “If your mother is anything, Brett, she’s persistent.” Grandma Ethel clicked her tongue.

  “Now Judy, we’re still—” Grandma Ethel answered. Then she paused, and her eyes widened. “Oh, excuse me.” Grandma Ethel nodded. Then she turned and held out the phone to Ginny. “It’s for you.”

  Ginny’s fork slipped from her fingers, clattering onto her plate. The meat loaf she’d just eaten turned to cement in her stomach. She hurried to the phone, knowing who it was, knowing the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Danny in front of Brett.

  “Hello?”

  “Ginny, thank God you’re alive.” Danny’s voice was so clear, goose bumps rose on her arms.

  “Yeah, of course I am. I’m so sorry I didn’t call—”

  “Was that the old woman?” Danny interrupted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The old woman you were helping to care for. It sounds like she’s doing better.”

  “Um, yeah, she—”

  “Then you can come home now, right? I can call the airline, set something up for you. I’m so sorry about this, babe, getting stuck up there like that, and all those old-people smells. I’d be sick, just sick to have to do it.”

  Ginny pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Listen, can I call you later?” She walked toward the living room, pulling the cord taut.

  “It’s about your mother, isn’t it? The reason you ran off to Alaska? Ginny, sweetheart, I paid off the photographer who had those photos.”

  “What photos…you mean the one at the lodge?” She thought about the photo she’d taken with those two women. She probably had looked a mess. Had he mistaken one of them for her mother? He didn’t know much about her, did he?

  “Lodge? No, when we were out.” His usually loud tone softened. “Your back…when I put the necklace on you. Seriously, I had no idea about the scars. Thankfully the photographer came to me. He erased them right there in front of me—swore he didn’t back them up.”

  Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. Her stomach lurched. “What do you know about my mother?” The words escaped through her fingers.

  “Enough to hurt for you, babe. How someone could do that to another human being is beyond me. Your own mother. I’ll look into it, see what I can find out—”

  “No!” The word shot from her lips. “Don’t look for her. I don’t want to find her. Not now. Not ever.”

  How someone could do that… The words echoed through her mind. Your own mother.

  “Are you sure? I thought it might help.” Danny’s voice softened. It seemed almost tender, and she felt bad for getting him in the middle of all of this.

  “Listen, I really need to call you back later. But don’t worry. I plan on coming home soon.” That would get him off the phone.

  “Good news, finally. I was about to come up and bring you home myself.”

  “No need.” Ginny shook her head. She thought of Brett leaving—in a little over two weeks now. “I’ll be back. And we can figure out what next steps I need to take then.”

  * * * * *

  Brett was quiet for the rest of dinner. After dinner Grandma Ethel went straight to bed, even though it was only seven o’clock.

  They sat on the couch, facing each other. Ginny knew what was coming.

  “Ginny, we need to talk.”

  “About what?” she had to ask, even though she knew the answer.

  “A few things, actually. They are things we should have talked about before I asked you to marry me all those years ago.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her brow furrowed. She thought for sure he’d want to talk about Danny.

  “I want you to take my words and really pay attention to them, even if they make you mad.”

  She pulled up her bare feet and tucked them underneath her. “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “Ginny, you’re an amazing person. You’re tender, gentle. Your eyes are open to those in need. I think that’s what drew you to Africa in the first place.”

  Her heart dropped at the mention of Africa.

  “I mean, you didn’t need to stay around and care for my grandma as you did. I’m thankful you were there. And even Ellie’s letters. I can see concern in your gaze as you read them.”

  Ginny forced a chuckle, trying to ignore the needle that pierced her heart again and again. “Yeah, I suppose I forget that she wrote those letters long ago. In a way it just seems like she’s a dear friend I haven’t heard from in a while…”

  “But I also know that it’s easier for you to turn your attention to others than to allow yourself to mourn what you’ve lost.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your mother. A happy childhood.”

  “I’m not concerned about her.” Anger tinged her voice. “My biggest loss was the Piersons. They knew me. They loved me, unlike that woman who gave me life.” She spit out the last words like nails.

  Brett didn’t say anything. He just scooted closer and waited.

  The silence was heavy. She took his hand and patted it as if urging him to go on. He didn’t.

  She looked away, to the sky over the bay that glowed pink from the sunset. “Beautiful…” She was going to talk about the sunset, but doing so would prove his point.

  He continued to look at her, studying her face as if he were an art critic and she was a canvas.

  When she couldn’t handle the silence any longer, she opened her mouth and the pent-up words exploded from her like a seething soda bottle.

  “I don’t understand it. Aren’t mothers suppose to love their children? Protect their children? I’m not sure why she hated me so. I was just a baby. For her to do what she did.” Ginny held her face in her hands. “Mothers are supposed to read stories to their kids, snuggle with them, tickle…” Her throat felt hot and thick, but no tears came. She’d cried about it for as long as she could remember. She’d longed for a mother’s gentle touch—her mother’s touch. She tossed her head from side to side, her long curls brushing her lap as she did. “You have no idea how she hurt me.”

  “You can tell me. I can share your pain.” Brett cleared his throat, and when she looked over at him, tears rimmed his eyes. It was then that her vision blurred. A tear threatened to break through. She quickly wiped it away.

  “I don’t know how to put it into words. It’s too hard.”

  He nodded. “Gentle whispers turn to rage. My heart cracks, spills on the stage.”

  Ginny’s eyes widened. Her lips opened.

  “Sad eyes, sad smile, lifted up to see. Why can’t I see?”

  She nodded. They were words to another one of her songs. “So you’ve been keeping track of me? Figuring out all the meanings behind the messages? Is that what you’re trying to say, Brett?”

  “No, what I’m trying to say is, you have been saying it all along, just in a different way. Most people might think it’s just a song, but Ginny, I know it’s more. It’s what’s on your heart.”

  “Do you r
eally want to know everything?”

  Brett nodded and squeezed her hand tighter.

  Fine. I’ll show him. Let him really know what he’s getting himself into.

  Ginny looked down at her light sweatshirt and slowly unzipped it, revealing the tank top underneath. Taking a deep breath, she placed the sweatshirt on the couch next to her and then turned her back to Brett. With trembling fingers she lifted up her hair.

  A gasp escaped his lips. Then she felt his fingertips gently touching the spots. “Are those…”

  “Cigarette burns. Or at least that’s what the doctor told me.” The trembling moved from her fingertips up her arms. Soon her shoulders trembled too.

  His fingers touched each one. Fourteen spots. She’d counted them in her reflection more times than she knew, holding up a small hand mirror, pushing back her hair.

  He scooted closer and leaned forward. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.” His breath was warm on the back of her ear. “I mean, I guessed things had to be bad for you to be in foster care, but I never guessed this.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and neck, pulling her closer.

  “You’re beautiful, you know.”

  She nodded, knowing he meant it. Brett didn’t lie. A sad smile emerged through the tears. Then Brett rose. He stood behind her.

  Brett tapped her shoulder. He wanted her to rise, to turn. She slid her sweatshirt back on, stood, and turned to him, yet she couldn’t look into his face. She couldn’t let him see her tears. Not yet.

  Instead, she stepped forward until their toes were only inches apart. He lifted his hand and wrapped it around the back of her head. She leaned forward until her forehead touched his chest.

  “Oh, Ginny.” Brett kissed the top of her head again and again and again. “I’m so sorry, Ginny. I want to have all the answers, but there is so much I don’t understand. I want to make things easy, when they are anything but.”

  “I want to forgive my mother, but I don’t know how.”

  “I agree, sweetheart. We need to forgive others as we’ve been forgiven. I think God will show you how to do that in His own way.”

  They stood there awhile longer. Ginny pressed her eyes tight. Lord, help me. Show me how to let go so I can step forward to what You have for me. Was it a future with Brett? Maybe.