Love Finds You in Glacier Bay, Alaska

by Tricia Goyer

  I thought if I could just love him enough, he’d get better. I know that doesn’t give me call to give up, but I confess I’m tired, discouraged, especially now Ellie’s gone.

  I covet your continued prayers.

  One more thing before I close. I got a letter from Ellie. I told you in my last note how she left quickly and we didn’t know why. Well, her grandfather, Brother Peter, he’s real sick. I know he’s a friend of yours too. Pray for him. And Ellie. I’m sure she’s heartsick over it.

  Anyway, I thought you’d want to know about Brother Peter and Joseph. Thank you again for your kind offer.

  Clay

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  .......................

  Brett ran into the dark woods, brushing aside the tree limbs as he went. He moved in the direction of the aircraft, not caring about the rain that splashed against his face or that his jacket was already soaked and clung to him. The rain had been just a fine mist when he’d climbed from his truck, but by the time he was one hundred yards into the forest, it was already falling in big drops.

  “Ginny!” He called her name to let her know he was coming. He hoped she made it to the broken-off shell before the rain came hard. Hoped she hadn’t lost the trail in the darkening night. Hoped…

  He didn’t want to think about bears. They were thick this time of year, foraging to fill their stomachs before winter.

  He’d walked this trail a hundred times. It seemed longer with her lost at the end of it.

  Barely noticing the broken pieces of wreckage, he focused on the path ahead. He had to get to her. He couldn’t lose her again without confessing his love. Tell her he’d never stopped loving.

  As he neared the wreckage he saw her tennis-shoed footprints, and those of a big dog, but when he looked into the wreckage, she wasn’t inside.

  “Ginny!” he called.

  “In here.”

  He heard the small squeak of her voice, and as Brett looked in, he saw a faint flashlight glow. Ginny sat—tucked way in the back—wet and shivering, with a dimming flashlight and one of Ellie’s letters in her hand.

  He blew out a breath of relief.

  “Did he go after her?” Her voice quivered as she spoke.

  “What?” Brett climbed in.

  “Did Clay go to California for Ellie?” Her voice spoke with urgency as if it was the most important thing.

  Ginny’s hair was limp and hanging around her face. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. She was wet and muddy, and his heart doubled in his chest with care for her.

  “I—I, uh, honestly can’t remember, Ginny. I can tell you that—”

  “No.” Ginny held up a hand. “Don’t tell me anything. I want to find out for myself. I’ll read the rest of the letters later.”

  Brett climbed into the wreckage and scooted closer to her, placing a hand on her leg. “Are you okay? I was worried when I heard you left. Kelly saw you go. She came and alerted me. I drove around till I saw the van. I have never been so happy to see Bud’s van.” He smiled.

  “I—I didn’t want to ruin your night. If you found out I was leaving…”

  She lowered her head, and her hair hung limp around her face. He reached up his hand, brushing it over her shoulder. He wished he could kiss her scars away. Wished he knew the right thing to say to keep her from running. Will she ever stop running?

  “You’re leaving?” He tried to keep his voice tender. Tried not to scare this timid fawn before him. “Why? We’ve come so far, Ginny. I thought we were just getting over those things that plagued our past.”

  “It’s not the past I was thinking about, Brett. It’s the future. I don’t want to stop you from going to Africa. It’s what you’ve always wanted. And as much as I love it here, I couldn’t imagine staying in Glacier Bay without you.”

  Ginny’s flashlight flickered and then went out.

  “Dumb batteries,” she whispered in the near darkness.

  He pulled his own flashlight from his damp jacket pocket and turned it on. Light flooded the inside of the shell. He scooted closer so their knees touched and lifted her chin. Look in my eyes, Ginny. See my love.

  “I’m flattered you don’t want to be here without me,” he finally said. “But it’s only two weeks. Surely Grandma Ethel, Kelly, Linda, Dove, and everyone else could keep you occupied during that time.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes flashed with joy. Maybe the first glimmer of true joy he’d ever seen there.

  “Two weeks.” He took the dead flashlight from her hand and placed it on the cold metal. Then he took both of her hands, pressing them in between his, trying to warm them. “The mission trip. I’m not going to be gone that long, and while it’s not the best timing, those kids need me. I’ll be taking over supplies and roofing an orphanage.”

  “You’re not moving there for good?” Ginny scooted closer to him. “And then what?” Alongside the joy, hope appeared in her eyes too.

  Brett smiled and kissed her cold fingertips. “Ginny, I’m not going to assume anything. The first time we were together, I assumed that the best thing I could—we could—do with our lives was to serve as missionaries in Africa. After all, the need is so great. But now I know that although it could be that, it could be a million other things too. The best thing we can do for God is to grow closer to Jesus and follow Him day-by-day. All I know is I want that to be a ‘we’—to experience life with you.” He swallowed hard. Then he reached out and stroked her shoulder.

  “I love you, Ginny. And I’m willing to support your dreams, even if that means living in LA.” The words rushed out, full of emotion. “Even if it means coming to Glacier Bay only to visit. Last time I didn’t follow you, but this time…I will. If it means we’ll be together, I will.”

  There, I said it. A burden lifted from his shoulders as he spoke the words.

  “Really?” She tilted her head. “You mean it?”

  Brett nodded.

  “I’m glad, really I am. But I want you to know that I have no plans to go back to LA. Long-term.”

  He opened his mouth to ask why, and she shushed him with one finger.

  “Brett, I’m not sure what my future holds. I do know a few things. I know God will use my voice—my songs—for His glory. I know I need to open my heart to the family God gave me, and to these people here in Glacier Bay. God brought me here for a reason. I have something to learn from them, just like Ellie had something to learn. We’re not made to live alone, or even live for ourselves. My heart is learning that.”

  “And?” Brett leaned closer.

  “And to you, Brett,” she said just above a whisper. “I’m supposed to open my heart to you. And I’m perfectly fine with that. I love you.”

  “Can you say that again?”

  Ginny tilted her head. “I love you, Brett.” Her lips curled up in a smile. “And after being here, I respect you more than ever before. A good man isn’t good because he says so, but because the people around him say so. I don’t know what I did to deserve—”

  “Shh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “My love, my commitment, is a gift. I know it won’t be easy, but know I want to be by your side wherever your music takes us. I’ll support your future, Ginny. And I’ll hold you close and be with you until every past hurt is healed.”

  A single tear broke free and journeyed down her cheek. “You mean that?”

  Brett wiped it away with his thumb. Outside, the rain picked up again, plunking on the metal like gravel dropped from the sky, but at this moment there was no place he’d rather be.

  He leaned down and kissed her once, unhurried. Her lips were warm and tasted of salt from the inlet winds. He pulled back slightly only to have her reach her hand to the back of his neck and pull his lips closer.

  He kissed her a second time. The kiss was long and sweet, and when she pulled away, her breath was so close it brushed his cheek.

  “I suppose sometimes it takes getting lost to enjoy the joy of being found,” she whispered. “I’m
happier at this moment than I’ve ever been.” She glanced around and then placed her hand on the cold metal wall of the wreckage. “New hope in shattered dreams.”

  “Sounds like a song,” he said, bending down and kissing her forehead.

  She scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight.

  “It just might be, Brett. It just might be.” She snuggled against him—her cheek against his chest—and he wondered if she could hear the beating of his heart. Wondered if she knew it was beating for her.

  “A wonderful love song,” she whispered again, louder over the sound of the rain. “To be sung to an audience of glaciers and puffins and sunsets over northern waters. A song first hummed by the One who created our hearts.”

  * * * * *

  They made their way to the van in the rain, and Ginny was thankful for Brett’s jacket and flashlight. She blew out a breath as she climbed into the passenger’s seat, sure the trail had to be more than a quarter of a mile long. She was spent physically and emotionally—but in a good way. Her heart warmed her even though a chill moved up her arms.

  Brett climbed in Bud’s van and started the engine, turning the heater on.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to heat up.”

  Ginny nodded, her teeth chattering. “What about your truck?”

  “I’ll get a ride back to get it. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Ginny couldn’t help but notice the smile on Brett’s face. And liked the idea of seeing that smile every day of the rest of her life.

  Brett put the van in gear and was preparing to pull out when she noticed his forehead furrow. He put the gearshift back into Park and then jumped out of the car.

  A Jeep with its hazard lights on pulled up behind them. She watched as Brett talked to the driver. A minute later, he jogged back to Bud’s van.

  “What’s wrong?” Ginny whispered as he climbed back into the car.

  “We need to get back.”

  She placed her hand on her chest. Was it Grandma? Was it her heart? She leaned closer as Brett continued.

  “We need to get back.” He pulled onto the road and turned back the way they had come. “It seems someone with a video camera showed up at the school, and Dove Fowler gave them directions to Grandma Ethel’s house.”

  “A video camera? I don’t understand.”

  “They said it was some entertainment show.” Brett glanced over for the briefest moment. “Danny Kingston was with them. They’re looking for you.”

  In just a few minutes, they were parking at Grandma Ethel’s house. Ginny touched her wet hair, looked down at her filthy clothes. What would Danny think of this? She didn’t understand why he’d be here. She thought of Ellie’s letters. Like James, had Danny come to take her back? Perhaps. But why would he bring someone with a camera?

  She waited until Brett walked around the side of the truck and put her hand in his. Together they walked to the front door. Through the window she saw Danny seated on the sofa talking to Grandma Ethel. Her stomach knotted up, and she felt violated. How dare he follow her here? This was her place and hers alone. He wouldn’t appreciate it—would have no understanding of this community.

  Ginny stepped in front of Brett and opened the door, striding in. She no longer cared that she was a sloppy mess. She paid no mind to the video camera that rolled, taping her every move. She placed her purse on the kitchen counter and then strode up to Danny.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Ginny, darling, did you get caught in the rain? You had these poor folks worried.”

  She jutted out her chin. “I went for a walk. I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “It looks like your knight in shining armor rescued you,” Danny commented, eyeing Brett.

  Ginny nodded, refusing to start this conversation. Danny wouldn’t understand that what she and Brett had was different, more special, than anything in Hollywood.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked again, ignoring Danny’s slight smile and his expensive pants and sweater. Ignoring how a part of her was still drawn to that.

  Danny stood and took her hand. “I came because one of my producer friends heard your story—the abuse, the abandonment, and your life in foster care. It’s something that needs to be talked about. Child abuse is happening every day, and most of us are unaware.” He spoke as if he was reading a script.

  Ginny squared her shoulders. “Yes, well, this is something we can talk about another time.”

  “I thought that too, Ginny, but then I found information. I know you. I didn’t think you’d want to wait to hear about…your mother.”

  “My mother?”

  The wind was knocked out of her. She sank onto the couch, and a thousand prayers replayed in her mind—prayers of a child who wanted to know who and why. Why had her mother done what she’d done?

  Danny sat next to Ginny. “I know this isn’t the best timing, but would you like to know?”

  Ginny pushed her damp hair back from her face. The room faded. Grandma Ethel’s and Brett’s faces faded. She nodded. “Yes.”

  Danny picked up a manila envelope from the coffee table. “I have answers in here, but first, since you have the chance…do you have anything to say to her? I mean, after what happened?”

  Ginny blew out a breath and put a hand over her stomach, willing its quivering to cease. “Yes.” She turned and looked into the camera. “I don’t understand all that happened. I don’t understand why, but sometimes we find ourselves in dark, dark places. Sometimes we make mistakes, and I want you to know”—she looked at Brett and then back to the camera—“I want you to know I forgive you.”

  As she released the words, the trembling in her stomach turned to butterflies that rose and danced, carrying lightness to her chest.

  She looked at Danny. He leaned back against the couch, then his eyes softened into a look she’d never seen from him before, one of respect.

  “Yes, well,” he fumbled for words. “If you were angry, then no one would have blamed you.” He pulled a slip of paper out of the envelope. “The report from the social worker assigned to your case said you were thin, frail for a three-year-old. There were numerous bruises on your legs and cigarette burns on your back.”

  Ginny nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that before.”

  Then he slipped out a photo of a young, pretty woman. She was standing on a stage singing. At first Ginny thought it was a photo of herself, but when she looked closer, she saw that the clothes were unfamiliar and the woman’s hair was darker, though worn in the same way. Mother.

  For some reason she was prettier than Ginny imagined. She looked more innocent too. The woman Ginny had carried around in her mind all these years was more like the wicked stepmother than this Cinderella.

  “Do you want to know what happened to her?”

  “What do you mean, what happened?”

  “She’s gone, Ginny.” Danny’s voice was tender. “She’s been gone for a long time.”

  Ginny struggled for breath. In all the scenarios that had played in her mind, she’d never imagined this. Ginny’d always assumed that if she made something of herself—became someone important—then her mother would come to her. Was it true she was gone? If so… her plan wasn’t possible.

  Ginny looked to Danny, and her eyes widened as she waited for answers.

  “She died over twenty years ago,” he said simply. “She was in a car accident, and both she and her boyfriend—who was driving drunk—were killed. It was less than two weeks after she left you.”

  Ginny covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

  “Your mother wasn’t the one who abused you, Ginny. Her boyfriend was. He was a felon who’d been charged with child abuse before.” Danny sighed. “How she got wrapped up with the likes of him, we’ll never know.” He patted the manila envelope. “It’s all in here—your Child Protective Services records, his old police reports.”

  Ginny’s breath escaped. She tried to comprehe
nd what Danny was saying. She’d built walls around her heart on the assumption that her mother had been her abuser. She felt the walls sinking. She felt her heart softening.

  “There’s also information about the church where she left you.”

  “Church?” Ginny leaned forward. “Did I hear you right?”

  “We found this information in their old archives.” Danny pulled out another sheet of paper and cleared his throat. “A toddler was left inside a church. The pastor found her sitting on the front pew with a small suitcase, neatly packed. Her—your—wounds were fresh, and they’d been carefully bandaged. There was a note…”

  He reached in and pulled out a slip of paper. Words were scribbled on the back of a Safeway receipt.

  This is Virginia Rose, my song. My songbird. Keep her safe. Please do whatever you can. And when I find my own safety I will come. I

  The words ended there. Ginny read the note again and again. It was a love song, written out of fear.

  What was the last line supposed to say?

  I love her.

  I want to protect her.

  I will miss her.

  Ginny’s shoulders shook. The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. Sadness flooded over her. No longer for herself. No longer for the fact that she was abandoned. But because a mother had to do such a difficult thing to protect her child.

  Tears filled Ginny’s eyes, and gratitude warmed her chest. Her mother hadn’t hated her. Instead, her love had hoped for a better way. She had planned to come back for me.

  Ginny looked to Brett. He approached and knelt on the floor on one knee, taking her hands in his.

  “She wanted God—His people—to watch over you, Ginny,” Brett said.

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting her forehead fall into the curve of his neck. “I know. And knowing this changes everything. She loved me, Brett. She loved me. And I think she’d want nothing more than for me to stay here, with the people of Glacier Bay. With you.”