[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North

by Tracie Peterson

  Paxton’s patience had reached an end. ‘‘I am the girl’s guardian. She is not yet twenty-one and therefore under my authority.’’

  ‘‘You are correct in saying she’s not yet twenty-one,’’ Karen answered. ‘‘She’s only twelve. What preacher in his right mind would marry a twelve-year-old to any man? Besides, you aren’t her guardian. I am.’’

  She’s gone mad, Paxton thought. The matter has rendered her absolutely daft. Stepping away from Grace momentarily, Paxton went to Karen.

  ‘‘You would do well to stop this nonsense. This wedding will take place with or without you. I’ll have my men remove you, if necessary.’’

  Karen stood her ground. ‘‘I’m quite serious,’’ she told the pastor. ‘‘This girl is only twelve and Mr. Paxton doesn’t even know her.’’

  At this, paxton had had enough. he yanked off the heavy veil and tossed it to the ground. ‘‘i know this woman very well,’’ he declared. he looked to grace, but instead of seeing his terrified fiance e, he found instead a child.

  ‘‘Who are you?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I thought you knew her very well,’’ Karen said smugly. The look on her face was one of pure satisfaction.

  ‘‘Where is Miss Hawkins?’’

  ‘‘Miss Hawkins is now Mrs. Colton.’’ Karen drew Leah close before pushing the child in the direction of Doris. With no one between them, she raised her chin defiantly. ‘‘Grace married Peter Colton a few hours ago. She is safely in his care at this time.’’

  Paxton felt his satisfaction fade. He looked to his men. ‘‘Where is Colton?’’

  ‘‘He headed off for his ship,’’ the bulldog man replied. ‘‘But he weren’t in the company of no woman. He just had a young boy with him.’’

  ‘‘Fools!’’ Paxton declared. ‘‘That was her!’’

  Karen laughed. ‘‘My, my, but you are a smart man. But not smart enough.’’ She turned to leave. ‘‘Sorry, preacher, but there won’t be a wedding today.’’

  ‘‘You’ll pay for this, Miss Pierce. I swear, you’ll all pay. Colton included!’’

  ‘‘You don’t worry me, Mr. Paxton,’’ Karen said, putting her arm around her aunt. ‘‘With God on my side, there is nothing you can do to harm me.’’

  ‘‘You’ve already seen what I’m capable of accomplishing,’’ Paxton replied dryly. ‘‘If I were you, I’d question the loyalty of your God.’’

  ‘‘No need,’’ Karen said, smiling with joy. ‘‘I just witnessed it this day.’’

  It felt good to leave Paxton in stunned anger. Karen nearly jumped down the steps two at a time. She supposed it wasn’t a very positive Christian attitude to display, but in light of the events, she felt it a definite win of good over evil.

  ‘‘Let’s hurry and get back to the store and to Jacob,’’ she said, encouraging her aunt and Leah. ‘‘Let’s hire a wagon to drive us. It’s too cold to walk.’’ She shivered and pulled her scarf around her face. The wind was no doubt responsible for her trembling. Surely it wasn’t her fear that Paxton might actually cause them harm.

  I won’t give in to such thoughts, she reasoned. God is more than able to deliver us from the hands of someone like Martin Paxton. Of course, Frederick Hawkins had lost everything in the battle—even his life. Poor Grace. How hard to learn of her father’s death in such a brutal manner.

  This gave Karen thoughts of her own father. Had he already died? Did he lay delirious in some makeshift bed? Was there a doctor nearby to help ease his suffering? Tears came to her eyes and quickly froze against her lashes. I can’t think such despairing things. I must have hope.

  They arranged passage with a man who managed to squeeze them in between crates of dried foods and canned milk. He had a commission to haul goods up to Sheep Camp, and Dyea was one of his stops along the way.

  Karen offered the man money, but he waved her off. ‘‘It’s too cold to be out here walkin’, ma’am,’’ he said, barely taking time to raise his head to speak. He quickly tucked his face back into the folds of his coat.

  ‘‘Perhaps you would care to come inside our store to warm up once we reach Dyea,’’ Karen suggested.

  The man nodded and gave a muffled reply. ‘‘That’d be good, ma’am.’’

  Karen felt the barter was satisfactory and settled back against one of the crates. She tried not to think of what the hours to come might mean for either her or Grace. She wanted only to focus on the direction in which she should go. She thought of Adrik Ivankov. If he wouldn’t help her, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  After seeing that the driver had warmed up with nearly half a pot of coffee and several sandwiches, Karen bid the man farewell and checked the clock. It was nearly time for Adrik to come. She quickly made another pot of coffee and then decided to tell Doris the truth.

  ‘‘Mr. Ivankov caught up with me just before we left the store earlier today,’’ she began. ‘‘He had bad news, I’m afraid.’’

  ‘‘Wilmont?’’ Doris asked. Her stern expression softened. ‘‘Is it Wilmont?’’

  ‘‘I’m afraid so,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘He’s not at all well. In fact, he may have already succumbed to an outbreak of measles and dysentery that has devastated the village.’’

  ‘‘Oh dear. Oh my.’’ She sat down hard on the nearest chair, and Karen began to fear for Doris’s health as she clutched her hand to her heart. ‘‘I was afraid this might be the case. I’ve felt nothing but uneasiness for days.’’

  ‘‘Perhaps God was helping you to prepare for the worst,’’ Karen said, taking a chair opposite her aunt. She was grateful that Jacob and Leah were out collecting wood for the fire. ‘‘I suppose we have to face the fact that he might not make it. Mr. Ivankov said it was very bad.’’

  Doris nodded and twisted her hands together. ‘‘This country has killed them both. I suppose it will kill me as well.’’

  ‘‘No!’’ Karen exclaimed, reaching out to still her aunt’s hands. ‘‘Don’t even say such a thing. We must trust that God has a plan in all of this. No matter what, we mustn’t lose hope.’’

  ‘‘I know you’re right, but my heart is heavy,’’ Doris replied. ‘‘I think I’ll take to my bed early. You don’t mind, do you?’’

  Karen shook her head and thought how pale her aunt suddenly looked. She wasn’t aging well in this harsh environment. Perhaps it was time to consider sending her back to Seattle.

  ‘‘You have a rest. Mr. Ivankov should be here any minute and we shall decide what’s to be done.’’

  Doris got up from the table slowly. Squaring her shoulders, she drew a deep, ragged breath. ‘‘We can at least comfort ourselves in our deeds today. We saved Grace from a horrible fate.’’

  Karen considered the reality of the situation for the first time. They’d married Grace off to Peter Colton without even allowing her much say in the matter. Karen began to feel hesitant, knowing that Peter didn’t know God in a personal way. All the time Grace had spent under her care, Karen had tried to stress that an unequally yoked marriage could only spell heartache.

  ‘‘I hope we did a good thing,’’ she finally replied. ‘‘It seemed like the only option at the time.’’

  Doris nodded. ‘‘I’m certain it was.’’

  Karen then heard the deep baritone voice of Adrik Ivankov as well as Leah’s laughter. Adrik must have spotted the children as they worked over the woodpile.

  ‘‘You rest now, Aunt Doris. I must see to Mr. Ivankov.’’ She turned to head over to the door, just as an empty-armed Leah waltzed through.

  ‘‘Mr. Ivankov is carrying my wood,’’ she volunteered as Karen looked to the motley crew.

  Adrik smiled and nodded down at the wood. ‘‘Where do you want it?’’

  ‘‘We have a woodbox beside the stove. That would work just fine,’’ Karen answered. ‘‘Would you like some coffee? I just put a fresh pot on to boil.’’

  ‘‘Sounds good,’’ Adrik said, hardly seeming inhibited by the mass of logs in h
is arms.

  He deposited the wood, and Jacob, who’d just entered the room with an abbreviated version of Adrik’s pile, grunted a greeting. ‘‘It’s cold out there. I figured we’d better have extra.’’

  Karen smiled at the boy. He was becoming more and more likeable. He still had his moments of rebellion, but now he seemed far freer to communicate when things were going wrong. She prayed that in time his heart would heal and the pain over his mother’s death and father’s desertion would subside.

  ‘‘I need to speak with Mr. Ivankov in private,’’ Karen told Jacob and Leah. ‘‘Would you mind going to your room for a time?’’

  Both kids grew wide-eyed. ‘‘You aren’t leaving us, are you?’’ Leah questioned.

  Karen heard the fear in the girl’s voice. ‘‘Oh, Leah, I don’t plan to. Something has happened, however. My father is very sick. Mr. Ivankov was given word of this by one of the Tlin-git.’’

  ‘‘I’m sorry, Karen,’’ Leah said somberly. She came to stand by Karen and squeezed her hand.

  ‘‘Come on, Leah,’’ Jacob motioned. His eyes met Karen’s for a brief moment, and in his expression Karen found a world of compassion. He understands, she thought. He knows exactly how it feels to be separated from those you love.

  She waited until the children had closed the bedroom door before turning back to Adrik. Smiling rather timidly, Karen looked to the floor. ‘‘So now what do we do?’’

  31

  —[ CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ]—

  ‘‘HOW WE DECIDE to help your father depends mainly on what you want to do,’’ Adrik stated.

  ‘‘Well, take off your coat and hat, have some coffee, and we’ll go from there,’’ Karen replied, picking up a heavy white mug. ‘‘I find that I can think best when all the other amenities are taken care of.’’

  Adrik took off his heavy coat to reveal a well-worn flannel shirt. Red flannel underwear peeked out from the top of the outer shirt, which Adrik had carelessly left unbuttoned. He seemed to realize this, along with the haphazard way his shirt had come untucked in the front, and casually put himself in order before sitting down to the table.

  Karen smiled as she poured the coffee. She liked this big man. Maybe because he was a good friend of her father’s. Maybe it was just because of his open personality. He made no pretenses, yet didn’t mind seeing to proprieties.

  ‘‘I would very much like to see my father,’’ Karen said, handing Adrik the coffee. ‘‘I don’t know if that’s possible, but I would like it nevertheless.’’ She took the seat opposite him and folded her hands. Looking into his dark brown eyes, she questioned, ‘‘Is it possible?’’

  Adrik tasted the coffee, then nodded. ‘‘Anything is possible. With God, all things are possible. The question here should be, is it more beneficial than harmful. The answer to that is no.’’

  ‘‘Why do you say that?’’

  Adrik scratched his dark beard and shrugged. ‘‘Because it’s dangerous, even deadly. The passes are snowpacked, the storms descend on the interior without warning, and the temperature is steadily dropping well below zero. You aren’t accustomed to such things—not that you couldn’t get accustomed,’’ he added quickly. ‘‘It’s just not the wise thing to go trudging off just now.’’

  ‘‘The miners are doing it. Folks are still heading north over the pass,’’ Karen protested.

  ‘‘Yes, but they’re holding up when they reach the lakes. Oh, some are still working to get north. Some are trying to pack out across the frozen lakes, but many of those folks are going to die. This gold has done nothing but corrupt men’s thinking. Women’s too. And in the process of turning their own lives upside down, they’re workin’ pretty steadily to destroy everybody else’s.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure it’s hard on the tribes in the area.’’

  ‘‘You don’t know the half of it. The Tlingit owned the trails up north until the white man came along. For a while they even charged those passin’ over their trails. They’d charge for the trail, charge to guide them, charge to sell them goods. They made a steady income from the whites. Better still, they made a steady income from the Sticks—the Yukon First Nations people who live in the interior. The Tlingits kept the First Nations people from coming down to the coast to trade. They insisted on being their sole source of goods. Even earlier in this century, when the Russians came with all kinds of goods to trade for furs, the Tlingits ran the show.’’

  ‘‘But not now?’’

  Adrik shook his head. ‘‘They’re inundated with gold rush maniacs. They’re sufferin’, that’s to be sure.’’

  Karen felt almost intrusive for having come to Dyea. She wanted to understand the people her father so loved, but even more, she longed to know whether God would have her stay in this land and help her father with his ministry. She had never considered that he might die before God gave her a clear sign. A horrible thought crept in. What if her father’s death was her sign?

  Adrik seemed to understand her mood. ‘‘Look, I didn’t mean to get you sidetracked. The truth is, I couldn’t look your pa in the eye if I was the one who ended up riskin’ your life. But I can make you a deal.’’

  Karen couldn’t imagine what he might have to suggest. ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘I’ll go myself. If he’s dead, I’ll see to it that he’s properly tended to and I’ll bring his things back to you.’’

  Karen sat quietly for a moment, then realized it was probably all she could ask for. She wanted to offer Adrik some kind of compensation for his suggestion, but she didn’t want to insult the man. Honesty seemed the best choice she could make. ‘‘Mr. . . . Adrik, I don’t want to insult you by making the wrong suggestion, but I would like to see you properly compensated for such a thing.’’

  He grinned. ‘‘Well, truth be told, I would be making the trip anyway. At least I was planning on heading up near to where your pa was last situated. I don’t mind making the extra leg of the journey.’’ He sobered. ‘‘Your pa was good to me when he came up here. Good to my folks and people.’’

  ‘‘You were already living here?’’

  ‘‘To be sure. Well, actually we were up and down the coast. My grandfather was Russian. He married a Tlingit woman. They met in the years after the wars between the Tlingits and Russians. They lived in Sitka and that was where my father, and later I, was born.’’

  The man’s dark hair and tanned skin revealed his heritage. Karen wondered why she hadn’t thought of this possibility before now. ‘‘So you’re part Tlingit,’’ Karen said, nodding. ‘‘No wonder you care so much about their plight.’’

  ‘‘I’m not the only one. Your father felt a calling to save their souls, but he was far less intruding than other missionaries in the area. Some came in whoopin’ and hollerin’, using the Bible like the natives should already know what it was all about. Others came in more conservatively but still sought to change the people. They were excited to show the Indian a new way of doin’ things. Excited to show them modern conveniences, new foods, new ways of carin’ for themselves. They put the Tlingit children in schools and forced them to give up their native tongue, made them dress like Americans, and cut their hair. This was just as bad. The Tlingit are very proud people.’’

  Karen nodded, for she had dealt with some of the women from the Dyea village. She knew them to be proud, almost arrogant in their trading. Yet they were also very efficient and trustworthy.

  ‘‘It must be hard on them, having the land so overrun with outsiders.’’

  ‘‘Indeed it is,’’ Adrik replied. ‘‘But we can’t very well stop the flow. We can’t even slow it down until the gold itself plays out.’’

  Karen sighed. ‘‘Sometimes I wish that I’d never come.’’ Her voice sounded distant—almost distracted. She felt her guard slipping away. She trembled at the thought of revealing her heart to this big bear of a man. Catching him watching her with great interest, Karen smiled. ‘‘Well, wishing it doesn’t make it so, as my mother used to say.�
�’

  Adrik laughed. ‘‘I can remember her saying those very words.’’

  ‘‘You knew her?’’

  ‘‘Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve known your folks since they came up this way.’’

  Karen shook her head. ‘‘I had no idea. How wonderful! Maybe you could tell me where she’s buried. I had wanted to see her grave but didn’t know if anyone would know its whereabouts.’’

  ‘‘It’s right here in Dyea,’’ Adrik said. He drank down the coffee and got to his feet. ‘‘Put on your warm things. Bundle up good. I’ll take you to her grave.’’

  Karen didn’t say another word. She hurried to take up her coat and hat, then quickly checked in on the children.

  ‘‘Mr. Ivankov is going to show me where my mother is buried,’’ she told Jacob and Leah. ‘‘I’ll be back soon.’’ The kids gave her somber nods.

  Adrik took up a lighted lantern and motioned toward the door. Karen drew a deep breath and followed. She tied her bonnet snugly, then fished her heavy wool mittens from the pocket of her coat. She felt silly, almost childish, at the feeling of hesitation that crept over her. Seeing the grave would make her mother’s death a very visual reality. Could she handle the pain? What if she broke down and cried? Would she offend Adrik?

  They didn’t have far to walk. The cemetery was positioned on the northwest edge of town. Karen had known of its whereabouts, but she’d never thought to check it out. Funny, she thought. It was right here all along.

  The sounds of the waterfront and gambling houses faded as they hurried in the crisp winter air. The town had probably tripled in size just since Karen’s arrival, but the bitterness of the cold made everyone take to indoor activities. She suddenly felt very swallowed up by the looming mountain ranges and the passing shadows. Shivering, she tried to keep her mind on the big man at her side. He would never allow for anything bad to happen to her. She felt safe in his presence.

  That’s the way I’m to feel at all times with God, she thought. How silly I am to doubt God’s company and care, when this man whom I hardly know has my utmost faith simply for being a friend to my father.