The earth did not loom up and swallow her whole for railing against God’s unfairness to her. As a matter of fact, Lana felt like she’d let loose a stopped-up bottle inside. Uncorked a simmering anger, yet lived to tell the tale. Was yelling at God the same thing as praying?
Lana sank into Mack’s chair by the hearth, her hand laying on the black leather Bible he always kept beside it. I can’t see what He sees! Her spirit seemed to moan the words up out of her chest into the sky. All I see is loss and pain. Trickery, lies and now…theft. They can’t have stolen from me, Lord, and not that. Hasn’t life hurt me enough?
Lana didn’t expect some deep voice to declare His intentions from out of the heavens. She didn’t expect God to show His face in high drama right there in front of her. But she did expect something other than the yawning emptiness, the silence of the house that surrounded her so thickly, it pressed against her lungs—as if the anger had evaporated—for now—and left a great sharp-edged void in its place. She could have been standing at the summit of the Chilkoot Pass and not have felt as cold as she did at that moment.
Lana couldn’t have said how much time passed until Mack pushed through the cabin door. He had Leo Johnson by one arm, while Leo’s father Caleb had a grip on the boy’s other elbow. It wasn’t really fair to call Leo a boy—he stood head-to-head with Mack, and had a few inches on his own father, he was so large. He was a boy captured in a man’s body. A child, really, but with all the strength of a full-grown man. She’d refused to give credence to the tiny voice inside her that suspected Leo was to blame. His hunger to learn despite so many incapacities had tugged such affection out of her. Some part of her wanted success for him even more than he wanted it for himself. She wanted to be the one to unlock words for him. It stabbed at her to see him clenched in Mack and Caleb’s grip, a man’s anger and a boy’s guilt warring on his face.
“Leo has something to say to you, Mrs. Tanner,” Caleb said, his own face reflecting the heavy disappointment Lana felt in her heart.
Leo stood in defiant silence for a moment, then with a prod in the ribs from his father, muttered out, “I took your gold.”
Mack produced Jed’s brooch from his coat pocket and laid it on the table.
Lana tried to catch his eyes, but he refused to look up.
“Leo, why?”
Mack’s expression told her he found that a useless question. She didn’t really want to know why he’d stolen, Lana wanted to know why he’d stolen from her. It was clear Mack didn’t make that distinction.
“It’s pretty and I wanted it. Gold’s worth lots, even if it is soft and im…impractical.”
It stung that he’d so absorbed her lesson but stole from her anyway. “You stole from me, Leo. Something very important to me.”
“And he’ll pay for his crime,” Mack said darkly. “No more school, and four days in jail in Skaguay.”
“Away?” Leo asked, looking at his father.
Lana raised an eyebrow to Mack at the severity of the punishment. Did Leo really understand what he’d done? Did Mack understand what a band of Skaguay inmates could do to the likes of someone like Leo? Caleb kept his eyes on the ground, but Lana saw a slight tremble in his shoulders.
“Theft of any kind cannot be tolerated.” Mack’s voice was ice and steel. “Not under any circumstances. Not by anyone.”
“Must you be so harsh?” Lana said to Mack, after Leo and Caleb had left with instructions to have Leo on the docks to meet the first ferry tomorrow morning.
Mack turned and looked at her. “As a matter of fact, yes. Theft must be severely punished, Lana. Especially up here. Maybe especially in Leo’s case.”
“Would you have sent young Matty Harris to jail if it were him?”
“I don’t know.”
She was pleased to see he was at least somewhat bothered by what had just transpired. She found the whole episode heartbreaking and disappointing to say the least. As if a lifetime of damage were unfolding before her and she could do nothing to prevent it. “Leo’s mind isn’t much different. You know what could happen to him in Skaguay.”
Mack broadened his stance. “I know what will happen to him if he steals from someone else. I’ve watched Leo on the docks. He wants things he can’t have. He has a boy’s greed but not a man’s common sense. He’ll never have much money. He has to learn that stealing is dead wrong and has big con sequences. There are men up on that trail who would shoot him for what he’s done. On the spot, without hesitation. Leo’s a man, Lana, no matter how slow.” He turned from her, slamming his hat down on the peg by the door. “I’m doing him a favor, coming down so hard on him the first time he breaks the law. I’m hoping it means there won’t be a next time.”
Lana bit back her tongue, but managed a grunt of disagreement despite her reserve.
“Caleb’s a friend. Do you think I like doing this? People look to me to set standards in Treasure Creek. I’ve looked the other way too often where Leo is concerned. No more. I’ve no choice here.”
Lana walked to the table and picked up the brooch. Despite Leo’s size and strength, it hadn’t been further bent at all. He’d been careful with it. He hadn’t meant any harm. “He stole from me. Don’t I have a choice?”
“Not in this case.” Mack’s cold tone left nothing open for discussion. It was like he was another man. Judgmental and almost merciless.
“Jail is bad enough, but to bar him from school? Why don’t you just condemn him to never learning at all?” She picked up one of the readers she had stacked on the table. “Leo has a mind, Mack. You should see him with numbers. He’s capable of so much more.”
“Exactly.” Mack pointed at her, his eyes sharp and hard. “It’s what he’s capable of that’s the problem here. Lana, I can’t trust him in the same room with you. With Georgie. With the other children. I should never have agreed to it in the first place. It’s a bad idea. For everyone.”
“He made a mistake.”
“Which he’ll pay for. And hopefully not make another.”
Some fearful vulnerability seized Lana’s throat, churning up anger and fear. “How many mistakes did Jed make? You managed to forgive him over and—”
“And look what happened!” Mack bellowed, hands flung in the air. “Dead! Lying and stealing just lead to death up here, Lana. There’s no room for mercy here. Not for anyone. Not if we want to survive.” He gathered his lost temper for a minute, hearing Georgie’s wail as the raised voices had awakened him. “Leo stole from you. You only have the brooch back because I went after him. Why on earth are you defending him?”
“Because it’s too harsh,” Lana hissed in reply as she went toward the bedroom door. “You’re a ruthless man, Mack Turner. Will you be a ruthless father to Georgie, too?”
She barely contained herself from slamming the door shut behind her as she went to calm her son. What kind of man had she married?
Every face in the church pews seemed to press Mack down with their expectations as he gave the Sunday lesson. Yesterday had been draining. He’d barely slept after the near-silent dinner spent with Lana. He was protecting her; he’d gone to great lengths to get her brooch back, and she seemed to take offense at his efforts.
Which bothered him. Immensely. He’d told himself that the brooch must be returned because it was Lana’s key to the treasure map, and that was true. But it also burrowed under his skin that Leo had stolen from Lana. She’d poured her heart into teaching him—into teaching all of them—and he repaid her by stealing. He needed to be the law here. And law had to be firm here if Treasure Creek was going to be an upright, respectable community. He’d shut himself off from the fearful look in Leo’s eyes as he and Caleb placed him in the custody of the ferry captain for delivery to the sheriff in Skaguay. Lucy Tucker, who seemed to get along especially with Leo, and was friendly with Caleb, stared at him with sharp eyes as she stood with Caleb during the whole painful exchange. The look Caleb gave him as Lucy pulled him away from the dock wrapped a cloak of ice ar
ound Mack’s heart that had yet to thaw. Had he done the right thing by coming down so hard on Leo? Was there room for mercy in a place like Treasure Creek, surrounded as it was by violence, corruption and deception? Not usually a man to second-guess his decisions, Mack found himself mired in a murky doubt that soured his mood.
Not that there wasn’t enough bad news to fuel a bad mood for a week of Saturdays. Ship-docking days were always chaos for his business, but with the old Outfitting Post running half-dismantled and the new General Store not yet open, yesterday had been pandemonium. This new batch of stampeders seemed less prepared than the last. He had fifteen customers for boots and only eight pairs. Trail rations that should have come in on the same boat which carried Leo away failed to arrive, leaving him understocked. And that was just at the Outfitting Post; the list of construction woes at the new General Store was twice as long.
“‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house,’” Mack quoted from the Bible open to Exodus on the pulpit before him. “‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor any thing that is thy neighbor’s.’ None of us in Treasure Creek has all he needs. Scarcity will be in our community, and more so when winter comes. But if we can learn to trust God’s provision, to be the community He has in mind, I believe we will survive. I believe we will prosper. We must, however, hold close the values we know to be true.” He ventured a glance at Lana. “Even when it is hard.”
It wasn’t as if Lana had never looked at him with a sharp glance before; he’d been on the receiving end of any number of Lana’s tirades. It was just that it mattered now. Far more than he liked.
Chapter Thirteen
Church felt odd and out of sorts. Folks came up and congratulated him on his new position as mayor. Lana stood smiling beside him as people filed out of the sanctuary, but where he used to treasure this greeting time, this morning it felt forced and false. I cannot preach with tension between us. The verse about making peace with your brother—in this case making peace with his wife—rumbled around in the back of his head as he made small talk with this family and that miner. Caleb, he noted gravely, slipped out without a greeting. “Authority can weigh far more than a man likes,” his preacher father had said to him once, when the church had come down hard on one of Mack’s childhood buddies. “I must place God’s law above the affection of men, even if it costs me that affection.” I don’t want to lose Caleb as a friend, Mack prayed as he shook yet another congratulatory hand. I’ve lost enough already.
The last hand shook, Mack turned to start stacking up the hymnals and such, only to find Viola Goddard standing in the back of the church. She’d been at Sunday services since her arrival only a few weeks ago, and he’d not realized until just this moment that she hadn’t been in attendance this morning.
The more surprising thing was that Viola Goddard was holding a baby.
The woman had no child as far as he knew—he’d certainly never seen her with one. Even though the seamstress liked her privacy, Mack was pretty sure he would have seen the child before now. What was going on?
“Mr. Tanner,” she said, looking twice over her shoulder. Her voice was tight with worry. “I must speak with you. Right now.” Inside a thick blanket, the baby gave out a whimper.
“And who is this?” Lana asked, peering into the folds of cloth.
The new seamstress had not talked of a family, nor was she wearing a wedding ring. As a matter of fact, Viola Goddard had been decidedly stingy with any details of her past. Not that an unspoken desire for “a fresh start” was uncommon up here. Mack had learned to only pry when he deemed it necessary.
The woman offered an unsteady smile. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
She met Mack’s eyes. “I mean I truly don’t know. I found her outside my door in a cradle.”
“Abandoned?” Lana’s hand went to her chest.
“Yes and no.” Viola reached into one corner of the blanket and produced a small sheet of paper. “There was a note.”
Mack scanned the neat script.
My brother sent me this gold as proof there’s gold up in Dawson’s City. It’s my only chance to provide for my motherless baby girl. Please take care of her until I can—if I can—make it back home. Use this gold to care for her. I know I can trust you.
There was no signature, nothing to indicate the identity of the child or her parents. Of all the ills and vices he expected to battle in Treasure Creek, he’d never have counted abandoned babies among them. “You don’t know who did this?”
“I haven’t a clue, Mr. Tanner. But this little girl has been entrusted to me. I’m willing to care for her.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I don’t want the gold they left with her. I just want the chance to keep her safe and healthy.”
“Gold?” Lana stopped staring at the tot’s tiny Indian-style moccasins, to look up at the seamstress.
“They left two nuggets of gold to pay for her care. And a feeding bottle and such. Mr. Tanner, I don’t want that gold. I want you to keep it for now. You’re in charge here, I felt you ought to know.”
He was glad she’d come to him, but stumped as to what to do about the matter. The parents—if that’s who truly left the child—had obviously singled Viola Goddard out. He wasn’t really in any position to disagree.
“And you truly have no idea who’s left this little native girl with you?” Lana voiced his own thoughts. “Or why they’d do such a thing?”
“No, but I’m ready and willing to make sure she’s safe and sound.”
Lana put her hand on Viola’s arm. “Of course you are, Viola. And little…”
“Goldie,” she replied, “I just call her Goldie, on account of the nuggets. And on account of these initials on her blanket.” Surely enough, the letters “GC” were embroidered on the baby’s blanket edging. “There’s a ‘C’ carved on the bottom of the cradle she was left in, too, but I don’t know any more than that. The moccasins do make me wonder if she’s Tlingit. Her hair is dark enough, but her skin is fair.” She rocked the child, holding her close. “But I know she’ll be safe with me.” She turned to Mack. “I thought you should know, Mr. Tanner. I thought it best to come to you right away.”
Mack took the small sack of gold nuggets and the folded sheet of paper. “You were right to, Miss Goddard.” He drew his hand across his chin, trying to assess the situation. “I don’t rightly know all that’s going on with this, but I suspect whoever left little Goldie here with you had good reasons for doing it. So it’s best she stays with you until we can figure things out.” The seamstress relaxed visibly at this. Did she really expect Mack to yank the child out of her arms? Did people regard him as that harsh? “I expect her father or mother will be back soon, and then we can get to the bottom of this.”
“Goodness. However will you feed her? She looks about—oh, I’d say six months or so, wouldn’t you?” Lana frowned at the moccasins, with their bold design that clearly marked her as native. “We ought to find you some other baby things.”
Viola shifted the baby and rocked slowly from side to side, soothing the child. “Like I said, they left a feeding bottle and some clothing. I can make up anything else she might need in the meantime. I’ve more than enough fabric, even for diapers. She’s a sweet child—no trouble at all, poor thing.”
Mack put a hand on the seamstress’s shoulder in calm affirmation, but she shrunk back from his touch. People really did fear him in Treasure Creek. The realization sunk a black hole into the bottom of his stomach. He yearned to be respected, but he had no desire to be feared. Not by good people. “We’ll do everything we can to take care of you, Miss Goddard. You have my word, you and Goldie will be safe until we can sort this out.”
“Yes,” Lana added, “of course. And if you need anything, anything at all, you know we’ll help.”
“Thank you.” Viola smiled as she gave the baby another hug. “Thank you so much.” The baby gave out
a little coo, reaching up her hand toward the seamstress’s beaming face. Viola gazed down at the child. “Everything’s going to be just fine now, Goldie, you’ll see. I’ll take the best care of you.” She looked back up at Mack. “And I will. I promise you that.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mack replied, taking care to make his voice as reassuring as possible. “You get that little one on home and take care. I’ll stop by later, once I’ve had a chance to work out what ought to happen next.”
Lana watched the young woman step out into the cool sunshine, tucking the blanket close around the child as she walked. Mack shook his head, shifting his weight back on one hip as, together, they stared after Viola Goddard. “Never saw that coming,” he muttered, and she heard genuine surprise in his voice.
“Imagine!” Lana reached for Georgie’s hand and hoisted the precious boy up on one hip. “Leaving a child on a doorstep in a place like this. What kind of parent would do such a thing?” Possibly an Indian parent, she thought. It was clear this was a native child, despite Viola’s doubts. The Indians up here seemed so different—as mysterious and frightening as those she had encountered back in Seattle. Strange dress and language, odd practices no one understood. She always found their music and legends rather dark and disturbing. And to abandon a baby? Lana couldn’t think of anything more unsettling. She tried not to be judgmental, but there were those who believed that the Tlingit guides intentionally let Jed and those other miners go up the trail on that dangerous day. “What kind of parent would do such a thing?”
“I suppose we’ll find out. We can just pray whoever wrote that note turns up soon.” Mack patted the pocket that held the note and gold. “Until then, we’d best keep this quiet.”
ALASKAN BRIDES 01: Yukon Wedding Page 10