All Things Hidden

by Tracie Peterson

  “Gwyn, what do you think of this?” Julia Lewis, one of the younger moms in the colony, approached her in the garden with a couple of signs. Alaska Grown and Handmade in Alaska. “Those wealthy tourists keep coming through to get a glimpse of ‘the pioneers,’ so we thought we’d come up with a little stand where we could sell things to them when they come through.”

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea, and I love the signs. They look great.” Rarely had any tourists come to the valley in the past, but now the colony had become a curiosity for the wealthy who could afford to cruise to Alaska. “How many of you are involved in it?”

  Two more ladies entered the conversation. Arm in arm they were carrying some of the things they’d made. The taller one smiled at Gwyn. “Oh, a bunch of us at each camp. On the boat on the way up here, we actually talked about ideas for the valley and how we could make extra money, but we didn’t realize we’d get tourists this soon.”

  A little twinge of jealousy hit Gwyn as she watched the ladies laugh and brainstorm together. The bonds of friendship that had been created on the voyage here had turned into long-term relationships. A couple of the ladies she’d met were sisters-in-law. Both newlyweds, they’d come here to start fresh.

  The crowd of smiling faces made Gwyn smile too. This was how it was supposed to be. A community. A family.

  One of the younger girls thrust a bunch of fireweed at her. “Pretty.”

  Gwyn patted the little girl’s head. “Yes, very pretty.” The smell of the fireweed was one of her favorites. She couldn’t wait until it was time to make fireweed jelly and fireweed honey. She’d promised several of the women she would teach them. They’d all fallen in love with the sourdough pancakes and bread.

  For the women who still looked at the colony as an adventure, life was joyous and fun. But for the few who didn’t seem happy—no matter what—it was the worst location on the planet. Gwyn and Sadzi and Nasnana had done their best to encourage and cheer everyone on, but there would always be a negative few in the bunch.

  Laughter and voices drifted off as the group of ladies walked away. Gwyn surveyed her work and leaned the hoe back against the fence post. A walk sounded nice. A few moments to stretch and think.

  Gwyn kicked a rock down the path as she hummed “Amazing Grace.” God had been so good to her. She had no right to complain. But her heart yearned for a husband. Watching all the young couples in the colony had given her a glimpse of what she’d been missing. And the busyness of the summer increased her longings.

  She hadn’t seen Jeremiah in days. What she wouldn’t give to run into him again. She’d never forget the comfort of his arms.

  What was wrong with her? Goodness, she needed Nasnana and her good sense.

  But the path from Nasnana’s was quiet. There’d been no answer at the door. No sign of her outside in the garden. The wild flowers in full bloom and a strong breeze carrying the birds from tree to tree made Gwyn breathe deeply. Not finding Nasnana home made Gwyn’s mind even more unsettled. Should she tell her what she really thought about Jeremiah? Reveal her deepest longings and desires? The older woman cared for her more than any other woman in her life. Maybe she’d have some guidance or wise words to help Gwyn. But maybe since she wasn’t home, God was telling her to keep it to herself. Maybe her feelings were in vain.

  The crack of a stick behind her made her jump.

  “Not to worry, Gwyn. It’s just me.” Clarence ambled toward her.

  Ugh. There was plenty to worry about when that man was about. He was so annoying. God surely didn’t want her to hate anyone. They were commanded in the Bible to love one another, but Gwyn had to admit that she couldn’t stand the man now in front of her. “You startled me.”

  “I do apologize. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. What are you doing out here?” Her question came out harsher than she’d intended.

  He tilted his head. “Why, coming to check on you. That’s all.”

  “Why would you come all the way out here?”

  “I know how close you are to the old woman and her beautiful granddaughter . . . uh . . . Sadzi? So when I couldn’t find you anywhere else, I headed this way.”

  Just hearing him speak her friend’s name made her cringe. What was it about him that irritated her so? And why did he keep seeking her out?

  “They are kind people. I’ve enjoyed getting to know everyone here.” He locked his hands behind him and walked beside her.

  “That’s nice. We have wonderful friends in this valley.” Small talk wasn’t her favorite, but this man seemed determined to stick to her side. Lord, please help me be nice.

  “It’s a lovely place, Gwyn. But I do look forward to the time when we can get away from here. I’d love to show you Paris and Rome and New York City.”

  “We?” She stopped, unable to take another step. Her boots seemed stuck to the ground. What on earth was he implying?

  “I’m sorry. Maybe that was a bit presumptuous of me. I haven’t even had the chance to escort you to dinner yet.” He reached out and touched her elbow. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to Anchorage sometime soon?”

  Her abhorrence for the man propelled her forward. Eyes down, she prayed for the right words. It struck her that they were alone in the woods, and her heartbeat quickened. “I appreciate your kindness to me, Clarence, but no thank you. There’s far too much to be done around here.”

  “Don’t you long for a life away from all the hard work? I’m offering you a night of luxury and my undivided attention.”

  She stopped again. “Clarence, you obviously don’t know me. I don’t like attention. I don’t long for luxury. I enjoy hard work.”

  “Oh, my dear, but that’s only because you haven’t yet tasted the wondrous things the world has to offer.” He tried to grab her hands, but she stepped back.

  Maybe she just needed to be bold, no matter how hard that was—it wasn’t her forte. “Clarence, how can you afford such luxuries anyhow? You are living with your brother and his family in a tent.”

  “But, Gwyn—”

  “Miss Hillerman.”

  “Miss Hillerman, I am a wealthy man. I came here simply to spend some time with my family and see them off to a good start. I’d like to financially make it possible for them to succeed.”

  Succeed, in a pig’s eye. She didn’t believe that for a minute.

  Sure, the man was always clean, dressed nice. She didn’t care for the way he slicked back his hair, but at least he was groomed. In fact, he was always a bit too polished. That bothered her. That, and the fact that he always seemed to know where to find her, he never seemed to lift a finger to help anyone else, and his words dripped of condescension.

  “You seem lost in thought.”

  “I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Can I help you in any way?”

  She wanted to tell him that he could leave her alone, but thought it might be too rude. “I’m off to see the Bouwens family.”

  “That’s wonderful. Which camp are they at?”

  “Camp two.”

  “That’s quite a trek from here. Would you mind if I accompanied you?”

  Every time he caught her, he asked the same question. And no matter how she responded, he walked with her anyway. Maybe if she ignored him, he would get the hint. But how could she accomplish that when it was just the two of them?

  “Remind me about the Bouwens family.”

  “Oh, they’re amazing. Mrs. Bouwens is teaching me how to tat. Mr. Bouwens was a butcher and a deputy sheriff before they came here.”

  He faltered for a minute. “I’m sorry. I must have tripped.”

  “They also are the largest family sent up to the colony.”

  “Is that so?” He looked off into the distance. “How many children do they have?”

  “Eleven.” Gwyn couldn’t help but smile. “I just love those kids. Mrs. Bouwens is incredible. Every one of them is hardworking and well mannered.”

 
; “Eleven children?”

  “Yes.”

  “Eleven.” Clarence’s lips disappeared into a thin line as his eyebrows rose in obvious objection.

  So this was her way out. Gwyn wanted to giggle at the thought. “I just love children, don’t you? And big families. Big families are the best. One day when I do marry and settle down, I want to do it right here with a dozen or more children.” Ducking her head, she hid a smile at the sound of his groan. “Is something wrong?” she asked in an innocent manner.

  Clarence said nothing for a moment and then his words came in rapid fire. “I am so sorry. I totally forgot that I’m expected elsewhere. I apologize, Gwyn. I was actually on my way to find William when I thought of you. You see, William needs me back at the house site. I’m sorry to cut our conversation short.” He turned on his heel and left. In the opposite direction of William Novak’s house.

  Gwyn shook her head and watched as Clarence disappeared. It was the fastest she’d ever seen him move. She laughed out loud and continued on her way. So Clarence didn’t like children. That much was apparent. If she could just surround herself with a crowd of children everywhere she went, maybe he’d leave her alone.

  But in less than thirty seconds, he was at her side again.

  “Did you forget something?” She tried not to smile.

  “Actually, I did.” He cleared his throat. “And I also headed the wrong way. But before I go help William, I believe there is something of an urgent matter that you need to know.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m only telling you this out of the deepest concern I have for you in my heart . . . for your safety.” He looked very serious. “I would never want to speak ill of anyone.”

  “Of course.” If he would just get on with it.

  “It’s about Dr. Vaughan.”

  Now he had her attention. “What about Dr. Vaughan?”

  “You need to be wary of the man, Gwyn. I know you have worked with him for quite some time, and your father is very close to him as well, but . . .” He grimaced and shook his head.

  “But what?”

  “He’s hiding something horrendous that he doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

  What? If anyone was hiding something, she’d think it was Clarence, not Jeremiah. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken, Mr. Novak. Dr. Vaughan is of the highest integrity. He’s dedicated to healing people.”

  Clarence grabbed her arm.

  She tried to pull it free, but his grip was firm. “Please, let go.”

  “Gwyn, I’m saying this because I want to protect you.”

  “Let go, Clarence.” She yanked again.

  He released her but stepped closer. “You wouldn’t be too happy if you knew the truth about Doctor Jeremiah Vaughan’s past.”

  Gwyn moved away. “This is really uncalled for, Mr. Novak. I won’t allow you to slander a friend.”

  “Well, once you learn the truth, you won’t call him a friend. Just remember when that happens, I was the one who warned you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll remember exactly what you’ve said . . . and done.”

  The hard bench beneath Jeremiah was a welcome relief. With the addition of Dr. Albrecht and the new nurses, sicknesses were under control. Jeremiah had even had time yesterday to work at one of the sawmills cutting lumber for the homes. As much as his feet usually ached from standing up all day, today his shoulders and arms felt ten times worse. The doctors and nurses had all agreed to a strict rotational schedule to enable them to get away from the clinic for several hours each week. But time on his hands wasn’t what he wanted.

  The church service began and Jeremiah straightened on the bench in this church without walls. During the prayer, he glanced around at the mountains, jutting thousands of feet above the beautiful valley they now occupied. While their beauty was magnificent, the rocky and rugged peaks evoked awe, reverence, and a heavy dose of fear. This was no land to be tamed or trifled with.

  Even on the muddiest of days when souls were weary from work and the camps were a mess, all one had to do was look up and see the fingerprints of the Creator. Jeremiah shook his head. He might not be on good terms with Him right now, but there was no mistaking His handiwork when you gazed around this wondrous land.

  No doubt about it, he loved Alaska. And he longed to stay. But that would mean he’d have to tell the truth. His secret couldn’t stay hidden forever.

  Especially with Eugene Carr knowing Mr. Brewster, the man whose wife had died after Jeremiah’s use of intravenous anesthesia.

  When the people all stood to sing a hymn, Jeremiah jolted off his seat. He’d chosen the Presbyterian service because that was what he’d attended at home. But the colony was well stocked with clergymen. In fact, three had been chosen to be among the original colonists. Father Merrill Soltzman was a Catholic priest. He played the saxophone every Saturday night for the dance at camp one in the community hall, and was also chief of the volunteer fire department. Reverend Walter Georg was the Lutheran minister. He, along with Bert Bingle, the Presbyterian minister, tried to keep morale high and offered a lot of support and comfort to the people.

  Voices rose in song around him, as beautiful and strong as if they were in one of the world’s greatest cathedrals. Jeremiah longed for that same vibrant spirit. If only he had the same hope for the future that these people had. Here, on hard benches, their sanctuary the outdoors, they still sang and praised God, simply happy to be able to worship together.

  Reverend Bingle read from his Bible, but Jeremiah allowed the words to float over him. The single reason he attended was to keep any rumors at bay. Just because he and God weren’t on speaking terms right now didn’t mean the whole community needed to think he was a heathen. Doctors needed respect.

  He looked across the small gathering and spotted Gwyn. He hadn’t seen her much over the past few days. But Dr. H. had kept him up-to-date on how she was doing. Since the Red Cross nurses arrived, she’d had the freedom to help the ladies in the colony and work at the huge co-op garden run by the university. He missed her presence.

  As if sensing his gaze, Gwyn looked up. Their eyes met. A small smile lifted her lips, and she gave him a tiny wave. The gesture made his heart leap. But what right did he have to look for Gwyn’s affections? She was pure and sweet. Simple and strong.

  And he . . . was nothing but a mess. The façade might still be intact, but his insides were crumbling under the weight of his lies. Even if he did come clean about the medical board taking his license, there was still the matter of his having been engaged to Gwyn’s sister. That would probably cause her even more discomfort than his revoked license. After all, Gwyn knew that doctors were human and sometimes patients were lost even when the best medical skills were available. No, Gwyn would have a problem learning that he’d been engaged to Sophia and hadn’t bothered to tell her or her father. But even with guilt eating up his gut, he couldn’t resist looking at her. Staring. Longing.

  Over the past few months, she’d taught him so much about Alaska. And even though she didn’t know it, she’d taught him about people as well. That there were people in the world who actually cared for others rather than focusing on their social standing or their bank account.

  For years, he’d spent every spare second he could with Randolph Brewster. The wealthy politician had it all. A beautiful wife, handsome sons, money, and position. He’d convinced Jeremiah that they could change the world with a new hospital and new medical technology.

  Brewster had even convinced Jeremiah that a successful career in medicine was just the first step. Jeremiah could one day run for political office himself and could leave his mark for all mankind. Change the way hospitals were designed and perhaps even develop new medicines and life-saving techniques. Brewster had encouraged—no, he had demanded—that Jeremiah reach for the stars. And if reaching those stars meant walking over a few people along the way, well, so be it. That was just the way it went.

  Jeremiah hung his head. What ha
d ever made him think that reaching for the highest achievements—climbing that ladder of prestige—would be beneficial for him? It would require that he go completely against his nature. All he’d ever really wanted to do was benefit his fellowman. Heal the sick. Find new ways to ease suffering. Walking on people, using them for whatever he could get out of them, was not his style. Even so, he’d given in to Brewster’s pressure. Jeremiah had convinced himself that the means were justified by the end results.

  The good reverend’s voice rose and fell as his sermon continued. “Hypocrite!”

  The one word—the only word he’d heard—struck Jeremiah to the core. Hypocrite. That summed up Randolph Brewster. The man was a liar. But it also summed up his own choices.

  What would Gwyn think of him when she found out the truth? She’d call him a hypocrite too. And in all likelihood worse, much worse. Just as Sophia had.

  Jeremiah shook his head. He had to stop comparing Gwyn to her sister.

  Gwyn wasn’t anything like Sophia.

  Just one more reason why he could never have her. A woman of integrity deserved a man of integrity.

  Jeremiah wasn’t that man.

  15

  The colonists began singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” while a young mother accompanied on a small pump organ. The joy and happiness that floated through the crowd was unmistakable. If only he could grab on to it.

  As everyone gathered their things, Jeremiah couldn’t resist looking over to Gwyn. He watched her talking to her father. She became so animated sometimes—her hands helping to express her thoughts. He loved to watch her face. Even though she was quiet and reserved with most people, her openness with her father touched Jeremiah’s soul. What an interesting lady—one he’d love to take a lifetime getting to know.