Jacob, his blue eyes now damp with tears, licked his lips and pulled on his fur hat. Taking up his coat, he headed for the door.
“It won’t be light for long,” Karen called after him. “Don’t be gone after dark. Things are getting more and more rowdy around here, and with the new load of stampeders, I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”
“I’m not going to get into trouble,” Jacob replied in a clipped tone.
He stalked from the room and slammed the door behind him. Karen felt as if her nerves had snapped with the crashing of the door. Tears came to her own eyes and without understanding why, she began to cry. It was as if all the pressures of the day began to overwhelm her all over again. Funny, she had never been given to tears prior to coming north. The long dark months of winter, the cold, the lawless greed, and the bad news that just seemed to keep coming ate away her final reserves of strength.
“Oh, Leah. I’m so sorry.” Karen held the girl tight, needing comfort as much as the child did.
They cried for a time, then they just held each other as if the world had ended and they were the last ones to survive. Finally Karen spoke.
“I won’t leave you,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be afraid of being alone. I won’t let anything happen to you as long as I have breath in my body.”
“But you might die, too,” Leah said, straightening up to look Karen in the eye. “Everybody dies.”
Karen couldn’t argue that. “But while I’m here, I’ll do what I can to ensure you’re fed and clothed and cared for. I just want you to know that.”
Leah nodded. “Will you read the letter?”
Karen edged off the bed and picked the piece of paper up from the floor. The letter looked like it had been carried around for months, even though it was dated just yesterday. Why he had felt it necessary, Karen couldn’t say. Perhaps he’d seen too much death along the trail. Hadn’t Adrik told her of folks freezing to death within inches of the main path? Maybe Bill had seen this, as well.
Karen cleared her throat and took a seat on the corner of the bed. Leah wiped her eyes and moved close as Karen began to read.
“1898, 2nd of April.
Jacob and Leah Barringer, in care of Miss Karen Pierce, lately of Dyea.
Jacob and Leah,
I miss you more than I have words to say. You know I’ve never been a man for writing letters and such, but as time weighs heavy on my heart, I felt it necessary to send a post to you. The trail is hard and cold—there’s never any real warmth. I’m glad you’re safe back in Dyea. I seen a woman and child die yesterday from the cold. The woman’s feet had froze ’cause she had no boots. Her man must have left her behind or got separated from her, but I kept thinking of you two and how even though I missed you, I’d done the right thing in leaving you behind. You might both hate me by now. I hope not. You might not understand, even with me telling you about the bad times on the trail, but I love you more than life. I’ll come back for you, I promise.
Your father,
William Barringer”
Karen folded the letter and handed it to Leah. She waited for the girl to say something, anything. Leah took the letter and reread it to herself, then tucked it inside her blouse. She looked at Karen, her broken heart so clearly reflected in her eyes.
“If Pa is dead, they won’t just leave him up there, will they, Karen?”
“No, honey, Adrik said they took the body to the morgue.”
“Can we take some of the money and bury him all proper like? Can we order a stone with his name so folks won’t forget who he was?”
Karen thought of her own father buried somewhere out in the middle of the wilderness. How comforting it might be to have him close by, to know she could go visit the grave as she did her mother’s.
“Of course. We’ll use all the money, if need be.”
Leah nodded and lay back on the pillows. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”
————
Jacob had no words for the way he was feeling. Responsibilities had come to him at a young age, and if his father were truly dead, the burden would be even greater.
“Mr. Ivankov!” Jacob called out as he climbed the church steps two at a time. “Are you in here?”
There was no answer. Jacob looked down the aisle to the podium where he’d heard the pastor preach on many a Sunday. He looked beyond the pulpit to where a cross had been nailed to the otherwise unadorned wall.
“I don’t understand this at all,” he said, knowing that somehow God would understand he was speaking to Him. “I don’t see the sense in it. I don’t know how this can be fixed.”
“Some things can’t be fixed,” Adrik said as he came up from behind Jacob.
The boy turned to rest his eyes on the big man’s sympathetic expression. He didn’t feel like being strong and brave. He didn’t feel like fighting or arguing. He simply wanted to be comforted. Falling to his knees, Jacob cried bitter tears.
“He shouldn’t have gone. We needed him here. He shouldn’t have gone.”
Adrik knelt beside him. “I know, son. I know.”
“I don’t know why God is doing this to us.”
“Why do you suppose it to be the way God wanted it?”
Jacob shook his head and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “God is in charge of everything.”
“Well, I do believe God is in charge. I believe He has power and authority over the universe,” Adrik said. “But I also know God has given us free will to make choices and decisions for ourselves. He gave it to Adam and Eve in the Garden. Told them what they could do and what they shouldn’t. Then He let them decide for themselves whether or not they’d obey. They chose to listen to other voices. Your pa did the same.”
“My pa was a good man!” Jacob declared, glaring in anger at Adrik. “If you say he wasn’t, I’ll—”
“Whoa now, son, don’t go getting riled. Everybody makes poor choices from time to time, and whether you like it or not, everybody sins against God. You know that as well as anybody.”
Jacob continued to glare for a moment, then looked away and nodded. “But my pa was a good man. He was a Christian man, too.”
“I’m glad he was. But Jacob, being a Christian doesn’t mean you aren’t going to make mistakes. It doesn’t mean that bad things will never happen to you, even when you’re doing the right and good thing. Why, I once saw a man go after another man who’d fallen off a ship. He knew the other man couldn’t swim, so he went to help him. The other man was scared and desperate, and when his would-be rescuer came, he latched on to him and drowned them both. It wasn’t fair or right—after all, the first man hadn’t fallen in on purpose and the second man was going to help—putting his own life in danger to help his friend.”
“So what’s that got to do with my pa?”
Adrik leaned back and pushed his fur hat up away from his face. “Neither man would have died if they’d done what they were told to. They didn’t listen to the advice of others. The first man wasn’t supposed to be playing around at the rail. He was supposed to be loading salmon into the hold of the ship. They knew he couldn’t swim and had given him a job in a place where he would have been safe. The second man knew better than to jump in after his friend, but his emotions got the better of him, and reasoning and logic went out the door. He should have thrown his friend a line or a life ring. If either man would have done what he was supposed to do instead of doing what he thought best, then both would be alive today.”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “My pa was doing what he thought was right. I’m going to do what I think is right. I have to find out if that man was my pa.”
“You’d be hard pressed to learn that for sure, unless you found your pa face-to-face.”
“Why do you say that?”
Adrik frowned. “Most of the dead will be buried together. You’re not going to find him, and even if you do, well, you can’t be sure of recognizing him.”
“I’d know my own pa,” J
acob declared. “I have to try, Mr. Ivankov. I have to go and at least try to find him. If he’s dead, then I’ll take up where he left off. He had a dream of finding gold and making a better life for us. I won’t let that dream die.”
“It was a mighty selfish dream, if you ask me. He was a grown man with two children, and he knew you needed him here. He probably should have loaded you both up and headed back to the States, where you’d all be safe. Instead, he let himself buy into the stories of gold and put himself in danger and left you and Leah behind.”
“Don’t say that.” Jacob’s temper flared. He wasn’t about to sit and listen to this man mean-mouth his father. How dare he say that his father had done the wrong thing. He got to his feet and stared down at the larger man. “I’ll fight you for saying that.” He balled his fists and held them up as if to prove his point.
Adrik pulled off his gloves and slapped them against his thigh as he got to his feet. “Jacob, I’m telling you this because I don’t want to see you make a mistake. I know you’re hurting and I know you’re angry, but going north is foolish. Plain and simple. Greed is what’s driving men north. Greed and wild stories about things that don’t even exist.”
“The gold is real,” Jacob said. “My pa said it was real.
Other people are coming back rich. You know it’s real!” His voice was steadily rising.
“The gold might well be real, but so’s the cost. Are you ready to pay that price? Folks on the trail were warned about the dangers. Avalanches were predicted for several hours ahead of when they actually started happening. The Tlingits stopped packing and went down the mountain. They told people why, but no one wanted to listen. They had to get just one more pack over the mountain. They had to press just that much closer to the goal of finding gold. Had they listened, they wouldn’t be dead now. Your pa might very well be among those gone—if so, then he didn’t listen, either.”
Jacob felt a strange aching in his throat. He wanted to speak, but words wouldn’t come. He wanted to hit Adrik Ivankov, but he knew nothing would come of it, either.
“I’m going. I have to find my pa. I was always going to leave, I was just waiting for warmer weather. But now I’m going on my own. Pa has a cache and money. If he is dead, then I’m going to see to it that his dream comes true.”
“What about Leah?”
Jacob hadn’t really thought of his sister. He had forced her from his thoughts because he knew he couldn’t take her along. She’d be heartbroken at his departure. It would make her misery complete. After he left, she would truly have no one but Karen.
“I’ll send for her. When I have enough money, I’ll send some so that she can come by boat. Or if the railroad is built through by then, I’ll have her come by train. Pa said the trail is too hard for someone like her. I won’t have her freezing to death like that woman in his letter.”
“Jacob, I wish you’d reconsider. You’re going to tear that little girl completely apart if you leave her now—what with not knowing about your father.”
“She’ll understand,” Jacob said, not at all convinced of his words. “She’ll need to know the truth, same as me.”
“And how do you think you’re going to discover the truth? They were already lighting fires to thaw the ground for digging when I left. They aren’t going to leave folks unburied so that you can get up there and figure out who’s who. That man was tagged as Bill Barringer, and they won’t wait on his kin to show up. Most of those fellows didn’t have kin anywhere nearby. They’ll bury them all quickly and probably en masse. You can’t very well dig them all up to see if one of them is your father. If they can bring him back to bury in Dyea, they will. After all, I told them you and Leah were here. But chances are they’ll bury him with the others. Even then we can’t be sure it was really your pa.”
Jacob held his ground. “I’ll head north, then. I’ll go to Dawson and check with the claims office and see if he has files. If he’s alive, that’s exactly what he’d do. If he’s not alive, then there are supplies and money somewhere that belong to Leah and me.”
“You don’t know that, Jacob. If your father is dead, no one’s going to worry about getting that stuff back to you and your sister.”
“I don’t care. I’m going. You’ll let Leah and Karen know, won’t you?” Jacob asked.
“You don’t plan to go back and get your things?”
“I have some things hidden in the woodshed. Like I said, I’ve been planning to go all along.”
Adrik nodded. “I suppose you have to do what you think is right, but just remember one thing. When you take off from here without the permission or advice of your authority figures, you are setting yourself up for trouble. When we walk away from God’s authority, we are also walking away from His perfect protection. Do you really want that?”
“I’m not leaving God. I know He’s got a reason for everything, and while I don’t understand it, I’m not going to curse Him and die like Job’s friends suggested.” Jacob remembered the sermon preached on the Sunday before the avalanche. The words had impacted him. Job had lost everything and all that was left to him was to curse God and die. But still he hung on, and Jacob would, too.
“Jacob, why don’t you just think about this overnight? Pray on it first and then make your decision. You don’t know what awaits you out there. One trip up the summit and you’ll see for yourself what a mistake this is.”
“I don’t care what you say,” Jacob said, pushing his way past the big man. “I’m going and don’t you try to stop me.”
————
Leah had known about Jacob’s dream to join their father from nearly the moment he’d planned it. That’s why she waited for him in the darkness of the woodshed. She knew he was going to leave her, and she knew he wouldn’t come to say good-bye. Clutching the satchel he’d left there in hiding, she tried to think of what she’d say to him.
When the shed door opened and Jacob entered carrying a small lantern, Leah waited until he tried to retrieve his things from their hiding place before speaking.
“You’re going away without saying good-bye. Just like Pa,” she murmured, stepping out of the shadows.
“Leah!” He said the word almost accusingly.
“Why are you leaving like this? How could you do this to me?” She fought back tears and shivered in the cold. She threw the satchel at him. “There. Is that what you came for?”
She heard her brother’s sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to go. We have to know if that man was Pa. Mr. Ivankov can’t tell me for sure that Pa was the man he saw. We have to know.”
“When will you come back?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably have to go all the way to Dawson before I know for sure whether the man carrying Pa’s letter was him or not. You’ll be safe with Karen.”
“But you’re all the family I have left.” Leah couldn’t believe he was just going off like this. She’d known of his plans but had always figured on changing his mind. After all, they were close. They’d been each other’s confidants for years.
Jacob moved to close the distance and put his hands on her shoulders. “Look, I’m going to send for you. I promise. I’ll get enough money so you won’t have to go up the Chilkoot Trail. I’ll send you enough money so you can take a steamer all the way to St. Michael and then down the river to Dawson City. You’ll ride like a queen!” He tried to make it sound wonderful, but Leah wasn’t convinced.
“Take me now. Take me with you.”
He shook his head. “You know I can’t. The way is too rough. You read Pa’s letter, didn’t you? The way is just too dangerous for someone like you.”
“It’s dangerous for you, too. Grown men died in that avalanche—one of them might have been Pa. What makes you think it’ll be any better for you?”
Jacob’s jaw fixed in that determined way she’d come to recognize. It was a characteristic he’d inherited from their father. “All I know is that I have to try.”
Wrapping her
arms around him, Leah hugged him tight. “Please don’t go, Jacob. I’m scared for you. I don’t want you to die.”
Jacob held her for several minutes, then gently pushed her away. “I’m not going to die. You just wait and see. I’ll send for you before you know it, and who knows, maybe I’ll find Pa and everything will be all right again.” He turned from her but not before Leah saw the tears on his cheeks. Seeing him in such pain, she decided to say nothing more.
He pulled on his pack and reached into his pocket to hand her something. “I bought this and planned to give it to you for your birthday next month.”
Leah opened her hand to find a delicate gold chain. At the end of the necklace was an equally delicate gold cross. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never had anything like it.”
“I know,” Jacob replied. “I wanted you to have some gold from the north. I wanted you to believe in the dream.”
She looked up and saw the hope he held for his future. “I believe in you, Jacob—but not gold or land or anything else but God.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, Leah. Stay with Karen and I’ll find you again.”
Then he was gone. Leah stared after him, watching the amber glow of the lantern bob and swing as he walked away. “I love you, too,” she whispered. Numb from the truth of the moment, Leah made her way inside and up to the room that she now shared with Karen alone.
She opened the door cautiously. The night was still young enough that Karen might well be reading or writing letters, and Leah didn’t want to make too much noise. But the room was empty.
Sitting down on the bed, Leah unfastened the clasp on the necklace. Putting the necklace on, Leah felt the cold metal against her skin. It did little to reassure her.
“Nothing has gone right today,” Karen declared as she came into the room and slammed the door. Seeing Leah, she halted a moment, then went on raving. “I’m so tired of bad news. Everybody is talking about one horrible thing after another downstairs. I came up here because I just can’t stand to hear another word! I’m going to go wash up for bed.”
Ashes and Ice Page 9