[Alaskan Quest 03] - Whispers of Winter (5 page)

Helaina frowned. The man’s story was quite compelling. “I suppose I might buy a few pieces,” she found herself saying.

Babinovich nearly forgot himself as he reached out for her. He stopped before actually taking hold of her. “Oh, Mrs. Beecham, you have made me most happy. I am sure we can save them now.”

Helaina arranged for the man to meet her in the lobby of the hotel later that day, then turned her attention back to her destination. She needed to know what had been done for the
Regina
and her men.

————

Latimore rallied as Jacob spooned hot coffee, heavily laden with sweetened condensed milk, into his mouth. His eyes were less swollen, and it seemed to Jacob that perhaps he was regaining his vision.

“Captain, can you see me?”

Latimore squinted. “Just a bit.” His voice was hoarse and his breathing labored.

“Good.” Jacob set the cup aside. “You’ve been quite ill. It’s been nearly a week.”

“You should have let me die,” the man said matter-offactly. “And what good would that have done your son?”

Latimore frowned and looked away. “I have no son.”

“Saying it doesn’t make it true. I could tell you that we were not lost in the Arctic, but rather had been found and were even now enjoying the luxuries of a Seattle hotel, but it wouldn’t be our situation.”

“I am of no use to the boy.”

“Not like this. But there was a time when the Captain Latimore I knew would have been quite valuable to any child.”

“That man is long gone.”

“I don’t believe that. I think you’ve merely buried him alive.”

Latimore looked back at Jacob. He narrowed his eyes, then started to rub them. Jacob prevented the action. “That won’t help, and in fact it could do more harm. Do you feel like eating some duck? We’ve cooked one and have a nice broth that might suit your stomach.”

Latimore shook his head. “Why are you doing this? You would get along just as well—if not better—should you let me die.”

Jacob leaned back and folded his arms against his chest. “I’m not in the habit of giving up on people. You have a great deal to live for, despite your loss. You must stop deceiving yourself and see this. God hasn’t allowed you to live without reason. You have a job to do, but you are avoiding it. Running away from your son is not going to give you the peace you crave.”

The last remnants of Latimore’s strong walls began to crumble. “But when I look into his face … I see Regina.”

Jacob nodded. “I’m sure you do. But perhaps that will eventually prove to be a blessing instead of a curse. You mustn’t forsake your son, Latimore. He needs you. Regina is gone and she has no earthly need, except that you care for the child she gave you. You must draw on your strength and return to him. You must.”

Latimore shook his head. “I don’t think I can. I’m too far spent—too sick.”

Jacob grinned. “I’m not giving up on you, Latimore, and I refuse to allow you to give up on yourself.”

Chapter Four

L
eah watched her twins with a proud heart as they toddled around, exploring the new growth of wild flowers just beginning to bloom. Most of the snow was gone, but that didn’t mean the storms were behind them. She knew that snows could come suddenly and without warning. They were always on their guard for such surprises.

“Come along, Wills—Merry,” she called and clapped her hands together. The twins immediately took note and waddled toward her in their awkward baby way. “We’re going to see Sigrid,” she said, lifting both children at once.

Wills kicked his legs immediately, wanting to get down, while Meredith snuggled her head against Leah’s shoulder momentarily. Today the women were working on the sealskins for the umiak. Ayoona was to have led the group, but now they would work without her. Oopick promised, however, they would tell stories about the old woman and sew to her memory. The idea of such a gathering encouraged Leah’s rather raw heart. She longed for the comfort of her loved ones—of Jayce and Jacob. She missed Ayoona’s mothering and wisdom.

Sigrid had offered to watch the very small children so the mothers could work unhindered. Several of the Inupiat girls would help her as well. It would keep the mothers from constantly having to run after their little ones, and it would keep the children away from the oily skins.

“Good morning,” Leah called as she entered the school. Sigrid was already busy playing with some of the children.

“Oh, hello, Leah. I see you’ve brought me two more friends.” Sigrid got to her feet and came over to take Wills. He immediately grunted and pushed against her to be put down. “This one’s ready to play.”

“He’s always ready to play,” Leah said, laughing. She put Merry on the floor, but the baby didn’t seem inclined to explore further. She clung to Leah’s leg and hid her head. “Merry, on the other hand, is probably ready to be rocked to sleep.”

Sigrid put Wills down and reached for Merry. The child went hesitantly but didn’t cry as Wills darted off across the floor to play with the toys and other children. Sigrid cuddled Merry and cooed to her softly.

“Will you have enough help?” Leah asked. She saw that two of the older girls were here to assist but wondered if that would be enough.

“I have another couple of girls coming. They’re quite excited to help. Emma has promised them each a special gift. I’m not even sure what it is, but the girls were quite excited.”

Leah nodded. “I’m sure Emma will make it special. She has a way of doing that.”

Sigrid grew sober. “Has there been any word from Helaina or John?”

“Not yet.” Leah tried not to let her disappointment show. “It’s only been a short time, however. I’m sure they’ll be back as soon as they have news.”

“I know they will. They won’t have you wait too long if they have word.”

Leah drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Waiting has never been something I have borne well.” She frowned. “I suppose it’s a lesson I’m still learning.”

“Well, hopefully the wait won’t last much longer.”

Leah could see the sincere concern in Sigrid’s eyes. “I pray you’re right.”

Leah left the children and walked slowly to the community building. Glancing beyond the building, her attention was drawn to the sea. Glints from the water sparkled hypnotically, beckoning her.

Forgetting the women for the moment, Leah walked to the edge of the water. She gazed longingly across the surface to where the sky met the sea.

“You’re out there somewhere,” she murmured. The aching loneliness nearly sent her to her knees. How could Jayce be so far away and yet so close—connected by the very water that touched her shores?

Leah knelt and touched the Bering Sea. Maybe somewhere her husband was doing the same. Sometimes the days went by so incredibly slowly that Leah thought she might lose her sanity. Other days she was so consumed with the children or other people she had little time to mull over her situation. But in truth, her heart was in a continual state of breaking. Every night she went to bed lonelier than the night before. And each day Leah awoke to the harsh reality of her situation all over again, and every day it hurt just as much as it had when she’d first realized Jayce and Jacob weren’t coming home for a long, long time.

She hadn’t yet allowed herself to believe they wouldn’t come home at all, however. She couldn’t. The pain of that thought could not even be comprehended. Leah feared the truth—feared that they might never know the truth, feared that the truth might not be what she wanted to hear. It was a terrible dichotomy. Pushing an errant strand of brown hair away from her face, Leah straightened.

“Father, please bring them home. I cannot bear this burden much longer. My children need their father and uncle. I need Jayce to return. I need Jacob.” She wiped at the tears that came. “I trust you in all of this, but, God, I don’t understand why this had to happen. Things had finally worked out. I was still troubled by what had happened with Chase, but now … now I just want Jayce back. Those old wounds have healed, but these new wounds never will unless they come home. Please, God—I can’t make it through unless you help me.”

————

The women were seated on the ground already wearing waterproof gear when Leah arrived. She pulled on her own protective garments and took a place between Oopick and her daughter-in-law Qavlunaq. Emma Kjellmann sat across from them, laughing at something one of the other women had said. She looked up and smiled at Leah. “I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure if the twins would be well enough. I heard they were teething.”

“They are, but today they seemed quite fit. In fact, so fit that they were running circles around me.” Leah picked up a needle and pulled the oily skin closer. They were sewing several large sealskins together to make the exterior wrapping for the umiak. Skin boats were the life of the village; they would use this large open boat for whaling.

Leah used her needle with confidence. They would have to be very careful with their stitches in order to make the boat watertight. Leah had participated so many times in this ritual that she was actually more skilled than some of the native women.

“We were just discussing village news,” Emma continued.

Leah nodded knowingly. These gatherings were always a place where the women shared news of their families and friends.

“Mary was just telling us about her family in Teller. They have had several deaths among the children. It sounds like it might be diphtheria.”

Leah couldn’t suppress a shudder. “I pray it isn’t.” She caught Mary’s worried expression. “We will pray for your loved ones.”

Epidemics were feared everywhere, but perhaps more so in remote areas. It seemed the villages were always dealing with one health issue or another. Sickness swept through uninvited, stealing away whole families. Last Chance Creek hadn’t seen the likes of such for a while, but everyone knew it was just a matter of time.

Emma changed the subject. “It looks to me that there will be a large amount of wild berries to pick this summer. The bushes and ground berries are blooming in abundance. I think we would all do well to make special plans for canning and drying.”

The women nodded, and so the conversation continued. Leah found herself only halfway listening to the comments. She thought of the short summer and how few months there would be before the ice once again made northern travel difficult, if not impossible. Would there be enough time for a rescue of her men? Would the government even approach the matter with any degree of seriousness?

Pressing her leather thimble against the needle, Leah caught Emma’s announcement that she was expecting. “The baby is due in November, as best I can tell.” She smiled proudly. “We’re praying God will see fit to let this one come to us.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Leah said. She knew how hard it had been on Emma to miscarry during her previous pregnancy. “I have lots of little clothes to share with you. Some of them are yours from before.”

Qavlunaq smiled shyly. “I’m having another baby too. We will have them together.”

“Congratulations,” Emma said. “The baby is due in November?”

“Yes, the same time as you.”

Leah tried not to seem upset or unhappy as the revelry of the other women resounded in the large open room. She was quite happy for her friends to expand their families, but at the same time it only served to remind her of her own circumstances.

“I promised Leah we would speak of Ayoona and her days here in the village,” Oopick declared. She looked to Leah and nodded.

“Ayoona was a good woman.” The other women nodded, including Lopa, Ayoona’s other daughter-in-law. Lopa was the second wife of Seal-eyed Sam, Ayoona’s elder son. She was not nearly as sociable as Ooopick, but she’d come here today with her seventeen-year-old daughter, Mary, as Mary and her betrothed were the ones who would receive the boat as a wedding gift.

“Ayoona taught me to do many things better than my own mother taught me. She taught me to make better stitches for sewing the skins. She taught me about forgiving others their wrongs,” Lopa shared.

Leah knew the truth of that. Ayoona had been a woman of faith, and she had given Leah much encouragement during lonely and difficult times. Just weeks earlier Ayoona had told Leah that she shouldn’t worry and cry over her man.

“God will bring him home when the time is right, Lay-ya. You cannot be tellin’ God what to do.”

The memory made Leah smile.
No, I can’t be tellin’ God what to do, but I can certainly try to persuade Him
.

“When Ayoona was a girl, she ran faster than anyone in the village. Her mother always told her not to run so much. She was afraid it would make the spirits angry. Ayoona told her mother that the spirits could not catch her, even if they were angry.” Oopick smiled and added, “Her running was a blessing later, when she surprised a bear. Ayoona told me she was just seventeen and she was picking berries for her mother. A bear was there picking berries too. She said they were both so surprised they started to run. But they ran the same way. The bear wasn’t really chasing her—he just happened to go the same way.”

Everyone laughed at the thought of the bear and Ayoona. Leah pictured the old woman running side by side with the animal. Leah had no doubts as to who would win, although bears could outrun most people—at least in short distances.

Another woman shared a story about Ayoona dancing some of the village story dances. Leah listened as one after another told their stories and shared their love for the old woman. Ayoona would be sorely missed in the village—of this there was no doubt. But maybe more important, Ayoona had left a legacy of love and knowledge. She had taught every woman present something about survival in the village. She had helped deliver most of the babies these women had birthed. Ayoona was more than just a part of the village—she was the village. In many ways she had sculpted and molded the village to reflect her loving heart.

Later that afternoon Leah worked quietly in her house while the twins were sleeping. The last thing she expected was to hear a ruckus in the yard. The dogs were barking madly, as if something or someone had come into their territory. Leah took up a rifle and slipped out the front door and around the side of the house. Jacob’s dogs were yipping and whining as if their master were home. Leah felt her heart skip a beat as she picked up her pace.