Gwyn reread the return address. Eagerness and dread waged a war in her stomach.
A letter.
From her mother.
The postmark read February 1. And here it was the middle of April!
It often took weeks for them to receive mail, but this letter must have traveled by way of China.
Gwyn removed her gloves and sat at the kitchen table. Did she want to read it now? To risk her feelings? As much as she longed for words of love or even the slightest affirmation, Gwyn knew there wouldn’t be any in the missive. But there was always hope. Hope that her mother truly did care. Hope that circumstances would change and her mother would return to her family in Alaska.
Six years she’d been gone. Six. Years. And in that time, Gwyn had received five letters from her mother. Only five. None ever arrived for her father. Her heart broke a little more for him each time his eyes filled with expectation when a letter from Chicago arrived.
Gwyn would read the letter aloud, sharing all of Edith’s pieces of gossip and details of every event they’d attended. There would always be a sentence or two about Grandfather Titus and how weary Mother had become from all the toil she put forth in caring for him. But never a mention of missing Gwyn and her father. Never a personal note to the man she’d been married to for over twenty-five years.
Would this letter be any different?
No matter how hard she tried, Gwyn couldn’t deny she longed for her mother’s acceptance and love.
Hope always won out. Maybe this time would be different. Gwyn ripped the envelope open.
Dear Gwyneth,
I pray you are doing well in that ghastly little shack your father built in the middle of nowhere.
We are all doing incredibly well here. Although your grandfather Titus has weakened yet again. His illness has taken a toll on everyone, but in the midst of it all, we’ve found happiness. The lavish surroundings and kind servants soothe our minds and souls.
Your last letter asked if we would be returning soon. Gwyneth, you should know by now that I’m needed too much here to leave. You have your father to look after, so I’m sure you understand, even though his needs are nothing compared to Grandfather Titus’s. There are many nights I’ve had to read to him for over an hour before he could rest comfortably—you must acknowledge how taxing that has been on me! Oh, and precious Sophia has a fiancé now. I couldn’t possibly take her away from her intended. Our lives are here.
Why don’t you come here for a visit? Your father has kept you hidden from society long enough. There are parties and dances, shows and dinners—well, at least for the wealthy. And we are wealthy, Gwyneth, dear. It’s time you made your grandparents proud and came back to the family home.
I must end. I’m already late for my hair appointment. There are such cute new styles now. I’m sure the butler will post this sometime soon. I’ll let you know when the wedding is going to be so you can make arrangements to come.
Mother
That was it? She turned it over. Nothing more. Gwyn took the letter to her room and flopped herself onto her bed. The ceiling seemed to stare back. Why didn’t she measure up to her mother? Did her mother even care? Her father was the most amazing man, and her mother just up and left him. For what? Grandfather Titus had a heart attack six years ago. He was still alive. And according to Mother there were plenty of servants to see to his needs. So why didn’t she return home? Didn’t her husband and daughter matter?
Nasnana’s words from the other day came back. Gwyn was God’s child. That’s what mattered. Not the fact that Edith Hillerman had abandoned her husband and firstborn.
Gwyn rolled over and sobbed into her pillow. Was it Sophia’s beauty that gained their mother’s favor? Or her love of frivolous things? And now she was getting married. Her baby sister would marry before Gwyn did.
The letter lay crumpled next to her hand. Sitting up, she grabbed it and read it again.
It was just as bad the second time as the first.
Why did she torture herself? Gwyn wadded up the letter and determined not to write back this time. It was useless. Her mother didn’t care.
Besides, Gwyn would have her hands full with all the preparations for the colony. Fear or not, she would move forward.
The world still turned, even if she wasn’t in Edith Hillerman’s good graces.
“Gwyn? Are you here?” Her father’s voice jolted her into action.
“Coming!” Gwyn swiped at her cheeks and ran down the stairs.
“I’ve got to head down to the train station. Dr. Vaughan is supposed to arrive today, and I just heard the whistle.”
She rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Who?”
Her father smacked his forehead, “I’m sorry. I completely forgot to tell you. I invited Jeremiah Vaughan to come—”
Another whistle from the train interrupted her father.
“I’ll tell you all about it in a little bit.”
As her father raced out the door, Gwyn gripped the balled-up letter in her hand.
Without another thought, she threw it into the fireplace. The paper blackened, shriveled, and then turned to ash.
No longer would she think of herself as Edith Hillerman’s daughter. She didn’t even want to acknowledge she had a mother.
Her identity was found in the Lord and no one else.
5
Never in his most vivid dreams could Jeremiah have imagined a more beautiful place. Compared to the dingy gray streets of Chicago, the massive mountains and pure white snow set against the backdrop of crystal-clear blue sky were almost unbelievable. And yet, here he stood.
In Alaska.
The train slowed to a stop at his new home. The Matanuska valley.
The long train ride across the country to the West Coast had put plenty of miles between Jeremiah and Chicago. Then boarding the boat in Seattle ensured that number would multiply. But after a rough voyage, he’d been ready to settle into any small hut he could find—as long as it was secured on dry land.
Now the final leg of his journey brought him to mountains surrounding a picturesque valley. A small flicker of hope awakened his dreams again.
A new life.
A fresh start.
And the chance to practice medicine for the rest of his days. He would earn the people’s trust with his skills and care. License or no license, he was called to heal.
Jeremiah grabbed his satchel and exited the train. Cold air greeted him. Not the windy, gritty cold of Chicago. This was a crisp, clean cold.
“Jeremiah!”
He knew that voice. As he turned, Jeremiah spotted the man he’d idolized as a young boy. “Dr. H.!” He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. “Thank you for inviting me.”
The older man gripped his shoulder. “I can’t believe a promising young doctor like yourself would agree to come, but I’m so glad you did.”
“It sounded like an adventure.”
Dr. H. chuckled. “I can guarantee it will be that.” He led Jeremiah to the small station. “Let’s get your baggage and we’ll head to the house for some dinner. It’s a little bit of a jaunt from here, but I’m sure you’re up to it.” The older man winked at him. “After we get you fed, I’ll show you the small office I have set up.”
“Sounds good. I’m famished.”
“I’ve got your sleeping quarters set up in the office for right now until your cabin is constructed. Everyone is so focused on the colony that there aren’t any extra hands, but I hired some good men from a village well north of here to help. It should be done within the week.”
Jeremiah hadn’t expected that. “That’s very generous, but I don’t need you to go to all that trouble. I—”
“Already done.” He patted Jeremiah on the shoulder. “And it’s not any trouble. We’ve got bigger hurdles coming up, so I wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible before the chaos truly begins. Your cabin is between our home and the train lines here, so it will be closer to where I hope we’ll eve
ntually build a hospital. There are already plans for a town here. They’ve named it Palmer.
“I apologize. I’m overwhelming you with information. It’s been so busy already that I hardly remember what day of the week it is.” The older man laughed. “I even forgot to tell Gwyn that I’d invited you. I’ve spent so much time with the ARRC and all the plans for the colony, that I haven’t filled her in on everything.”
That was fine with Jeremiah. He wanted to avoid women as much as possible, and any sibling of Sophia was bound to be a high-hat Jane anyway. But it’d be best not to say anything to Dr. H. As far as Jeremiah knew, his mentor had no idea he’d ever been engaged to Sophia, much less had any interaction with his family.
They walked for about a quarter of an hour and arrived at Dr. H’s home. The wonderful scent of fresh-baked bread floated out the door and caused Jeremiah’s stomach to growl. How long had it been since he’d eaten?
“Come on in, Jeremiah. I’m sure Gwyn’s got something that will cure what ails you.”
“I doubt it,” Jeremiah said under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. I didn’t realize how hungry I’d become. They offered us food in Anchorage when we switched trains, but I was too excited to get here to think about food.”
The doctor took his coat, hat, and gloves. “Well, you can think about it now. Let’s eat and we can discuss any questions you might have over dinner.” He turned toward the kitchen. “Gwyn, is that stew about ready?”
A slim blonde with long curly hair stood with her back to them. Not at all the curvaceous Sophia. She held a spoon up to her mouth as if she’d just tasted from the pot.
A quick turn and she placed her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh, excuse me. I was just sampling to see if it was done.” Her cheeks tinged pink as her eyes darted around, never meeting his.
Not a flirtatious glance or anything.
“No need to stand on ceremony, Gwyn. We’ll all be working together around the clock and in close conditions, so let me reintroduce you to Dr. Jeremiah Vaughan.” Dr. H. looked at him with pride in his eyes. “May I present my eldest, Gwyn.” The smile between father and daughter almost did Jeremiah in. “She is the finest nurse I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t say that just because she’s my daughter. It might take her a little while, but I’m sure she will learn your preferences as we go along and become your extra set of hands like she has been mine all these years. I realize she wasn’t even in school yet when you last saw her, but perhaps you remember.”
Jeremiah stuck out his hand. Not wanting to be rude to his benefactor, he attempted a smile. “Vaguely. Nice to meet you, Gwyn.” No need to let them know that he remembered the little pigtailed waif who had followed him around. That flash of memory overtook him for a moment. Let’s see, he was thirty-four, so that would make Gwyn around twenty-two or twenty-three.
The woman in front of him brought him back to the present. She lowered her brows a bit and seemed to study him as she shook his hand. “Welcome to Alaska.” She made her way back to the stove and threw over her shoulder, “Go ahead and get cleaned up. Dinner’s ready.”
Jeremiah had a chance to study Gwyn as her father kissed her cheek. She wore no cosmetics, and her dress reminded him of something from decades past. Not that it was old or frayed, but it was nothing like the provocative styles women were wearing in the city. The single word that came to mind to describe her was simple. He followed Dr. H. to the sink and washed his hands.
For some odd reason his heart jumped a little. He frowned. He couldn’t allow himself to be attracted to any woman. Not to mention one he’d see every day who just happened to be Sophia’s sister.
As they sat around the table, Dr. H. blessed the meal and peaceful silence surrounded Jeremiah. The enticing aroma pushed his rumbling stomach into overtime. He took two pieces of bread, buttered them, and downed the first one in three bites. The stew was delicious as well, but just about anything would taste good when he was this hungry.
Dr. H. filled his daughter in on the plans for the clinic and where Jeremiah would be staying. His hope was that, between the three of them, they’d be able to put forth a valiant effort in taking care of the two hundred families about to descend on the valley.
“It won’t be easy. Although the government officials promised that the families chosen will know how to endure the cold winters and isolation, they really have no idea of what they’re talking about.”
“Why do you say that?” Jeremiah asked.
“Having lived both in the States and here, I can honestly say there is nothing to compare,” Dr. H. replied. “People often think that because they have lived in a small town or in a place miles from a city, they will understand how it is to live in Alaska. But it’s not the same. Here you have no big city close by. Anchorage is just a baby herself. There’s no constant flow of supplies. Even transportation is limited. And when the weather turns bitter cold, there can be days, even weeks, when getting around is difficult to impossible.”
“Those people coming here will surely realize their limitations. I imagine the government would have advised them,” Jeremiah suggested.
“But that would require knowledge on the part of those government officials, most—if not all—of whom have never been to Alaska. You’re old enough to remember that ten years ago we had a terrible diphtheria epidemic in Nome. Getting serum there to save lives was very nearly impossible, and only through the ingenuity of dog-sledding teams were we able to connect to those poor folks. Imagine other epidemics breaking out. Those newcomers will be used to picking up the phone and ordering what they need.”
“True.” Jeremiah considered the situation for a moment. “Perhaps that should be something that is addressed first thing. Perhaps we could hold some sort of forum to advise the colonists.”
“They’ll need to know about so much,” Gwyn murmured. “The wildlife, the planting season, the weather signs, and many other things.” She shook her head, as if disapproving of the entire undertaking, and Jeremiah couldn’t help but wonder about her opinion. Perhaps she resented the idea of newcomers. Perhaps she even resented the idea of his being there.
Dr. H. continued speaking about the area and future plans for the colony. Gwyn nodded, seeming to listen to every word her father spoke. She had brief answers to each of his questions, and asked intelligent questions. Sophia certainly would never have had such sharp thoughts on the matters at hand. Perhaps Gwyn was nothing like her sister. Jeremiah shook his head and refocused on his food. All women were alike.
He laid his spoon down, realizing he’d eaten two bowls of stew and five pieces of bread in a matter of minutes. The doctor and his daughter both still had dishes full in front of them.
Gwyn passed Jeremiah the bread basket again without even looking at him, and he took another slice. This piece, he took his time enjoying rather than inhaling. The tanginess of the bread mixed with the saltiness of the butter had to be one of the greatest things his taste buds had ever known. He could live off of it.
Dr. H. looked toward him. “I’d like to help you unpack your supplies after dinner.” He took a bite of the stew. “Then I can show you everything in the office. Eventually, my dream is to see a hospital built here, but that will be sometime down the road.”
Jeremiah took a sip of his coffee. “That sounds great.” He realized his manners were lacking. In all his effort to avoid Gwyn, he’d been rude. “Compliments on the meal, Miss Hillerman. That was excellent. Was that beef?”
“Moose.” A small smile lit her face. “And please, just call me Gwyn.”
“Moose? I don’t think I’ve ever had moose. Do you eat a lot of it up here?”
Gwyn stood and gathered plates.
Dr. H. answered his question. “We do. One moose will feed us all winter and then some.”
A brief pounding at the door preceded the stomping of feet. A tiny girl with jet-black hair and dark eyes burst into the dining room. “Dr. Hillerman, they need y
ou. Baby coming.”
Jeremiah watched the scene unfold. Gwyn and Dr. H. moved into immediate action, working together without a word. In half a minute, they had supplies and were grabbing coats and boots.
“You can come along if you want, Jeremiah, but you have to come now.”
The doctor’s words spurred him out of his chair and into action as he trailed the trio out into the snow.
Jeremiah rolled over in bed. Exhausted, his body screamed for sleep, but his mind wasn’t cooperating. All the events of the night kept replaying in his head.
His first glimpse of Gwyn. In those first few moments, he’d convinced himself she seemed plain and ordinary. But as the night wore on, he found himself drawn to her. What was it that fascinated him? He didn’t even know her. But as she’d helped deliver that baby—her calm, quiet nature, her soothing spirit—he’d realized he’d never met anyone like her.
His thoughts drifted back to home. Chicago. And everything he’d ever known. All the women in his life had been concerned with finery, money, catching a man, and social status. Now that he thought about it, every woman he knew had manipulated him. Had manipulated the people around them.
He realized he’d been manipulated—used and managed—by everyone in his life. Randolph Brewster, Edith Hillerman, Sophia Hillerman, even his own mother and father.
Had his busy life been full of fake people? Had he been so focused on money and securing his future that he fell for it?
A picture of Gwyn darted through his mind again. Her simple appeal was powerful.
But maybe that was her way. Maybe she wasn’t real either. He didn’t want to be caught in another trap.
No. Gwyn’s gentle spirit didn’t seem false. But he couldn’t allow himself to get close to her. The Alaska Hillermans didn’t know the truth. Gwyn would despise him if she knew.
Then she would have something in common with her sister.
Jeremiah beat his fist against the pillow. How was it that a grown man could be so mistaken about life and the people in it? How was it that he could have gone through all his schooling and training to be a physician and not understand that most everyone lived behind a façade—a pretense of images and possessions?
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