Too shocked to speak, Ariel stared at her aunt. What is she up to?
Rebekah turned the note over, wrote, stopped to chuckle, and wrote some more. A few moments later, Ariel saw a gleam of triumph in her face. “As folks here say, this will settle Mr. High-and-Mighty’s hash.”
“What did you write?” Ariel’s father demanded.
“Why, Tom, do you think a lady like me would be anything but polite?” She ignored his sputter and began to read:
“My dear Mr. Carey,
“You are evidently under the mistaken impression that Miss Ariel Dixon will renew her engagement. She will not. This will be the second time she returns your ring. Should you be foolhardy enough to send it again, we shall immediately arrange to have it sold. The local Pioneers of Alaska, which provides funds to help the widows and orphans of fishermen who lose their lives at sea, will certainly be overwhelmed by your generous contribution.
“Signed, Thomas Dixon and Rebekah Patten.”
In the stunned silence that followed, Rebekah stuffed the note back in its envelope and buried the ring box in its original wrappings. Her eyes twinkled when she handed it to the gaping pilot. “I trust this is safe with you. Emmet Carey and his mother would never permit the ring out of their sight unless they knew whoever handled it would guard it with his life.”
A grin lightened Wayne Hunter’s craggy face. “You’re right about that, ma’am,” he drawled. “I’ve flown for them before, so they know I’m trustworthy. I also happen to know the ring is insured for enough to buy a good share of most of the salmon canneries in Alaska.” He stuffed the package inside his worn leather jacket.
Thunderstruck, Ariel couldn’t move. Not so her father. He let out a whoop that rang from the rafters. It brought Molly running from the kitchen when the others joined in, including the pilot. “It’s all right, Molly. A little squall, but it’s over now.”
The cook planted her hands on her hips and challenged, “Come eat your new breakfast. I threw the cold food out.”
Tom patted her shoulder. “Thank you, Molly. Wayne, will you join us?”
“Sorry. If someone will call a taxi, I’ll be on my way. The one that brought me here wouldn’t wait.”
Before long the chug-chug of a taxi laboring up the hill gave way to the grinding screech of brakes. When the pilot glanced out the window, Ariel said, “I’ll show you to the door.” They walked down the hall and stepped onto the porch. Ariel frowned. “I don’t envy you when Emmet finds out you failed to carry out your mission.”
“Failed?” His keen gaze bored into her. “I delivered the ring. I’m sure kidnapping is outlawed in Ketchikan as well as elsewhere.” The laugh wrinkles around Wayne’s eyes and mouth deepened.
“Congratulations, miss, on escaping marriage with a stuffed shirt. By the way, the dark-haired young man inside appears more than willing to replace your California fiancé. He looks at you the way I look at my Marie.”
“Yes.” She shook the pilot’s hand. “Safe journey.”
“And good fortune to you, miss.” He saluted her with two fingers to the brim of his hat and marched down the steps to the huffing taxi.
Ariel watched him go. The multitude of emotions she had experienced in the past hour threatened to overwhelm her. Heedless of the chilly air, she huddled in a chair and allowed the peace of her home to gradually do its healing work. A warm blanket fell over her. “It really is all right,” a mellow voice assured from behind her. “Even when we can’t understand, we have the promise that all things work together for good to those who love God.”
Tears threatened. Ariel reached for Jean’s strong hand. His fingers clasped hers. “I know, but Emmet must have spent a fortune to get that ring here and me back there—all because he and his mother are running out of excuses for my absence!”
Jean’s smile went a long way toward settling her down. But when he said, “Hmmm. Seems like I told you he wasn’t one to give up a possession,” she pulled her hand free.
“If you ever call me that again, I’ll scream.”
“Come here, Ariel.” Jean raised her from the chair and held her close. “You will never be a possession to me. You will be my companion, my beloved wife.”
She nestled in his arms. Jean speaks wisely, she thought. God’s in His heaven and Emmet is far away. Everything really is all right.
Chapter 7
A few mornings later, Ariel awoke to lazy white flakes drifting from a leaden sky. She donned her parka just after dawn and ran outside to catch snowflakes on her tongue, the way she had done as a child. She waved to Rebekah, who stood just inside the shining window, smiling and shaking her head. Supreme happiness filled Ariel. Thank You, God. You are so good.
To her chagrin, the snow continued just long enough to winter-coat trees and shrubs, gateposts and streets, but soon melted. “Too bad,” Rebekah mourned at breakfast. Ariel noticed how sunlight glinted on the nicely laid table and danced in her aunt’s silver-shot hair. “I wish it had snowed a lot more.”
“We will probably need to take you to Juneau for that,” Jean teased. “Ketchikan normally gets less than three feet of snow per winter.”
“Maybe this time it will be different,” Rebekah replied. “As long as I’m in Alaska playing Ketchikanite, I’d like to get snowed in at least once.” She cocked her head toward Jean. “Well, if we can’t have a blizzard, how about a wedding? You are going to marry this girl of yours while I’m still here, aren’t you?”
Ariel felt herself redden but felt Jean’s strong fingers lace with hers under cover of the starched tablecloth still warm from Molly’s iron. “Christmas Eve, if it’s all right with my girl.” He smiled at Ariel, and her heart gave a happy little bounce.
“No better time,” Tom approved. He placed both wool plaid–covered wrists on the table and leaned forward. “Have you two decided about a honeymoon?”
Ariel hesitated. “Not really.”
“You could always go to California,” Rebekah wickedly suggested. “I could stay here and you could camp out at my place. Of course, there’s always the neighbor factor to take into account.” Muffled laughter came from behind the napkin she quickly placed over her mouth when Ariel glared at her.
Tom’s haw haw almost drowned out Jean and Ariel’s emphatic, unanimous, “No thanks!” He laughed until tears came. “So where do you want to go?”
Ariel took a deep breath and slowly expelled it. Did she dare speak out, say what lay deep in her heart? “The cannery at Dixon Cove.”
Tom stroked his chin. “Not a bad idea. No one’s there this time of year. You’d have peace and privacy. The shack’s weatherproof.” Little motes in the eyes so like his daughter’s sparkled.
Rebekah gasped. “They’re spending their honeymoon in a shack?”
“Don’t let him plague you, Auntie.” Ariel patted Rebekah’s arm with her free hand. “We have a smaller version of this place for use during the canning season. Two bedrooms. Fully equipped and some distance from the cannery. A huge fireplace and a magnificent view.” Her heart thumped at the thought. How many happy hours she and Jean had spent at Dixon Cove! Spending her honeymoon there would be perfect.
Her aunt snorted. “How do you know it’s fit for human occupation?”
“We check periodically,” Tom assured her. “It’s a good idea, though, to take a run down and make sure everything’s in order. It’s only fifty miles. Jean, I can spare you tomorrow. Better go while the weather permits.” He chuckled. “Should Rebekah’s longed-for blizzard come, you’ll have to change your plans, but it doesn’t look like she’ll get her wish soon.” He took a final sip of steaming coffee and stood.
“Thanks, Tom. Great idea. Aunt Rebekah, you can go with us,” Jean promised. “You’ll love Dixon Cove, cannery and all.” His eyes gleamed. “We’ll make a Ketchikanite, as you call us, out of you yet.”
Rebekah beamed at him. “I can hardly wait!”
Ariel awakened the next morning and bounded out of bed. Sun sparkled on
the smooth water far below. The perfect day for Jean and her to show the aunt she loved Dixon Cove. “Thank You, Lord.” Heart filled to overflowing, she made ready for the day and ran downstairs caroling,
“This is my Father’s world,
And to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings
The music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world,
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas,
His hand the wonders wrought.”
Ariel began the second verse and stepped into the kitchen. Her father and aunt sat at the table, and Molly hovered nearby. The expression on their faces cut short Ariel’s song of praise. “What’s the matter?” One hand flew to her throat. “Where’s Jean? Nothing’s wrong with him, is there?”
Tom shook his head. “No, but I’m sorry to say your aunt’s a bit under the weather.”
“I woke up with a stupid sore throat,” Rebekah croaked. “Fine thing. I don’t have time to get sick.”
“I fix.” Molly poured steaming water into a large cup and added honey and lemon juice. “You drink.”
“Thank you, Molly.” Rebekah sipped the brew then said, “Dixon Cove doesn’t appeal to me right now as much as a day curled up on the couch with Molly looking after me. Ariel, you and Jean don’t need to wait. Go while the weather is nice. You can take me another time. If not now, when I come back next summer. Staying here means I may stop this cold before it develops into something more serious.”
“That’s right,” Tom approved.
Ariel tried to hide her disappointment. “Are you sure?”
Jean stepped into the kitchen, eyes sparkling. “Sure of what?”
“Aunt Rebekah’s not feeling well, but she wants us to go ahead with the trip to Dixon Cove,” Ariel explained. “Dad agrees with her.”
Regret filled Jean’s expressive eyes. “I’m sorry, Rebekah, but thanks for understanding. We need to make the most of a good day.”
“So, go along with you and do whatever you have to do to get ready,” she ordered.
“Yes,” Ariel said. “We’ve had precaution drilled into us since we were toddlers.”
“I’ve already checked the cabin cruiser to see what’s on board,” her father said. “All you need to add is more food, fresh water, extra blankets, and medical supplies. You’ll be all set.”
“My goodness! Are they heading for Seattle?” Rebekah exclaimed while Jean and Ariel piled the provisions by the front door.
“No, but this country demands that we be ready for the unexpected,” Ariel said.
“You wouldn’t go if you thought there was danger, would you?” Rebekah peered out the window. “There’s no chance of a storm with that kind of sky, is there?”
Jean shook his head. “You wouldn’t think so, but we don’t take chances.” He smiled at her with a sweetness that showed Ariel he had come to love her aunt.
A kaleidoscope of emotions swept over Rebekah’s face. “What if you get caught out overnight?” Her face flamed. “Won’t there be gossip?”
Tom gave Rebekah a reassuring look. “Not at all. Folks up here know how sudden a squall can appear or fog roll in so thick that a boat’s running lights aren’t much help. Besides, Ariel’s reputation is such that anyone who casts a slur on her has a lot more folks to deal with than Jean and me.” He grinned. “Especially Carl and Swen.”
An hour later Ariel boarded the Sea Sprite. She thrilled to the simple joy of being alive and with Jean. From the shelter of his strong arm, she waved a bright scarf in farewell to her father, who stood on the dock. Arms crossed, he waved back. A mist came to Ariel’s eyes and a lump to her throat. What memories did seeing her with Jean steering with one hand and holding her in the crook of his other arm bring back? So had Dad sailed with her mother during the too-short years they’d had together.
Ariel and Jean made the run south from Ketchikan to Dixon Cove in record time. “You’ll want to stay in Ketchikan for Christmas, won’t you?” Jean asked. He sounded hesitant. “I know what it means for you to be with Tom.”
Ariel blinked at his thoughtfulness. “It would be wonderful.” A new thought struck her. “My goodness, aren’t we a couple of silly snow geese! We haven’t talked about where we’re going to live. Will it be with Dad and Molly?”
Jean shook his dark head. A melodious laugh rang over the water. “My dear girl, the fine young man you plan to marry is the proud owner of a mansion. Well, not a mansion, but a comfortable home not far from your father’s.”
“Really? Where? When did you get it? Why didn’t you tell me?”
His face blazed with joy. “When I came back, I learned your father had purchased my family’s home shortly after we moved. I bought it from him.”
Ariel caught her breath. “I never knew that.” She wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember. “For a long time I wouldn’t go near the place. I knew I’d cry. When I finally went, the emptiness hurt me.” She laid a hand over her heart. “It was even worse when a new family moved in. If I thought about it at all, I suppose I accepted they owned it. Instead, they must have rented it from Dad.” She rested her chin on her hand. “I wonder why he bought it. Or why he didn’t sell it during all these long years?”
Jean’s awe-filled voice sounded choked. “Your dad told me that deep in his heart he always felt I’d come back.” He swung the cabin cruiser toward the dock at Dixon Cove. “Tom added he hoped I would be single…and come before you had chosen your life companion.”
Chapter 8
Ariel felt tears crowd behind her eyelids. “Dad said that? He never told me.”
A brooding look crept into Jean’s face. “He wouldn’t trespass behind the wall you set up, even when he saw you look east a hundred times. If only my parents had told me sooner why they took me away!”
Ariel’s heart echoed the wish, but she patted his hand and said, “I wish they had. Yet perhaps we wouldn’t appreciate our love as much if we hadn’t come so close to losing it.” She leaned against his shoulder and laughed shakily. “Now, Mr. Jean Thoreau, you are stuck with me for the rest of our lives. That is, if you’ll unwrap Molly’s sandwiches before I starve to death!” She felt regret float away on a cloud of healing laughter.
Fed and happy, Ariel inspected the “honeymoon house,” as Jean called it, with him at her heels. After he started a blaze in the big fireplace that soon chased away the winter chill, he took her in his arms.
“I love you, Ariel. Lioness of God. Will you defend me like the mighty beast from which your name is taken defends its young?”
“After all these years you remembered!” Ariel felt a wellspring of happiness rise within her and she looked straight into his smiling face. “I will defend you to the death, my Jean. A beautiful name that reminds us God is gracious. He truly is.”
“He will always be Head of our household,” Jean vowed in a low voice. “We will teach our sons and daughters about Him from the time they lie in the cradle my father carved for me, his firstborn.”
Ariel clutched his arm. “Jean, should God choose not to bless us with children, will you still love me?”
“How can you ask?” His dark eyes flashed fire, the way she remembered from years before when she questioned him on a sensitive point. “Have I not been faithful for twelve long, lonely years?”
“More so than I.” Tears clogged her throat.
“Forgive me, chérie.” He caught her close. “If you had not believed yourself forgotten by the boy who left you, neither Emmet Carey nor any other man would have caught your fancy. I believe your heart has always been mine.”
“It has, even when I didn’t know it,” she whispered. Doubts fled, and his tender kiss forever sealed the question of whether Jean had forgiven her temporary defection.
Snuggled in the crook of his arm and the familiar cushions of the comfortable sofa before the fire, Ariel fell to dreaming. She didn’t rouse until a burned-through log snapped a
nd sent a shower of red-gold sparks up the chimney. Then she glanced out the window, freed herself from Jean’s protective embrace, and leaped to her feet.
“What’s the matter, chérie?”
Unable to speak, Ariel raced to the window and pointed through the clear glass. Long experience had taught her only too well how northern skies jealously demand complete and undivided attention, especially in winter. And that storms delight in swooping down on the unwary. How could she and Jean have been so caught up in making plans for the future that they hadn’t noticed the tendrils of gray-velvet fog creeping from the horizon toward the “honeymoon house”?
Jean sprang from the couch, sprinted to the window, and echoed Ariel’s thoughts. “How could I have been so careless? Come. Perhaps we can beat the storm.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Ariel told him, ignoring the uneasy feeling that crept over her. “Just because I’ve been in California doesn’t excuse me for not watching. Besides, it isn’t that bad.” Yet even as she spoke the tendrils thickened.
A shadow darkened Jean’s face. “Ariel, I have a bad feeling about this. No one can predict how fast the fog’s moving or how quick it will reach us. We’re better off here than halfway back to Ketchikan. We can’t depend on finding shelter the way we once could. A new element has surfaced, one that laughs at the Law of the North. Carl and Swen told me last winter they got caught in a sudden squall. They fought their way to shore on a small island that had a shack always stocked for emergencies. It wasn’t.” The succinct words fell like stones into Ariel’s heart. “Someone had robbed the cache. Fish pirates, or maybe a fugitive. Carl and Swen had enough food aboard ship to see them through, but they would have been in bad trouble if they’d lost their boat or the storm had gone on for several days.”
Ariel felt hot Alaskan blood rise to her face. “A thief up here is as bad as a murderer,” she exploded. “Anyone who steals a cache will have to answer to both the law and God.” She stared over the waves that reflected the gunmetal skies. “You’re right. It would be foolish to attempt a run toward home. Let’s pack in what we need from the Sea Sprite while we can still see her. As Dad said, these things happen.”
Treasured Christmas Brides Page 22