[Alaskan Quest 03] - Whispers of Winter (9 page)

“What would you want from me in the matter?”

Jacob thought for a moment. “I suppose I would like for you to override the decision regarding the compromise. You weren’t there to put in your vote and you are the captain of this expedition. Now that you are recovering, the men will again look to you for decisions. You could explain that you’ve been apprised of the matter, but believe it lacks … well … sound reasoning, I suppose.”

Latimore nodded and rubbed his bearded chin. The white, which had once dotted his hair and beard, now appeared quite prominent. “Let me think on the matter. It could be that it will resolve itself. If the time grows near and there is no sign of rescue, I will speak to the men.”

“I hope so.” Jacob knew he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Latimore looked at him for a moment, then cleared his throat. “About the rescue, Jacob.”

“What of it?”

“Do you believe it will come?”

Jacob thought back to the time years earlier when the
Karluk
had disappeared. Everyone presumed they were lost forever. No one expected the men to actually make land and survive the winter. There were other ships that had gone missing as well. Ships that had never turned up. But then he thought of Leah. Leah would never let them go without a fight. She would believe the very best until proof told her otherwise.

“I believe there are people looking for us even now,” Jacob admitted, wanting to be optimistic. “My sister is a determined woman. She will use whatever means available to seek our rescue. She won’t give up—no matter how bleak it might seem.”

“But you are concerned. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your speech.”

“We don’t know where we are. The searchers don’t know either. They will have to cover a large territory in a short amount of time. The ice will freeze this area over in a matter of months—it might be even better gauged in weeks. Arctic summer forever holds a whisper of winter.”

“I can imagine that to be true. Still, you speak greatly of the powerful effects of prayer. I presume you have been praying about our rescue as fervently as you prayed for my recovery.” He smiled at Jacob’s raised brow. “I heard you pray over me when I was in a barely conscious state. God has surely heard those prayers—why not the prayers for rescue?”

Jacob felt rightfully taken to task. “You are right. I have been rather faithless. It just seems the closer the time comes to what might be our salvation, the more despair I feel.”

Latimore nodded knowingly. “It’s rather like when I take to sea. If we pass far from land and spend many weeks isolated from our loved ones, I sometimes feel a sense of anticipation— even despair. There is always the lingering question of whether or not we’ll make it back again. I suppose my despair has been greater on this trip than any other.”

“But you had other circumstances to consider as well. Losing your wife, leaving your home and child—those are strong influences for any man.”

Latimore shifted and crossed his arms against his chest. “I still find it difficult to imagine my life without Regina.”

There was such a sorrow in his voice that Jacob thought he ought to change their focus of conversation. He’d opened his mouth to speak when Latimore interrupted. “Have you ever been in love?”

Jacob felt a dagger of pain pierce his heart. “Yes. I am in love.”

Latimore smiled. “But you haven’t yet wed?”

“No, the timing wasn’t right.” Jacob shook his head. “No, it was more that the place wasn’t right. She hated Alaska.”

“Hate is a powerful thing, but so too is love.” The captain sighed. “Regina hated my being a sea captain. She said it took me away from her too often. That’s why she sometimes traveled with me. She was miserable on my ship but happy to be in my company.”

Jacob realized they shared more in common than either had suspected. He dared to ask, “Do you regret not having given up the sea for her?”

Latimore’s eyes narrowed. “I regret that she died. I regret that she could not safely give birth to the baby she so loved. I regret that we didn’t have more time. So I suppose in many ways, I regret not having given up the sea.”

“Could you have been a good husband—a happy man—if you’d given up the life you loved for her?”

Latimore chuckled. “So long as she was in my life, I would have found a way to be happy. Sometimes love requires sacrifice. Often we’re too blind to see that we can lose something seemingly important in order to gain something infinitely more valuable.”

“‘He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it,”’ Jacob quoted.

“What’s that?” Latimore leaned up as if the conversation had suddenly become quite important.

“It’s a verse from the book of Matthew. The whole Chapter is full of so many good things. Jesus is sending out His disciples and He tells them what to do and not do. He instructs them to be on their guard. He warns them of persecution when people hear the Gospel preached. He tells them not to be afraid of those who can only kill the body, but rather to fear God, who can destroy both body and soul. It also shows that Jesus knew His ministry would divide people.”

“How so?”

“In the passage I was quoting, Jesus also says that if you love your father or mother, son or daughter more than Him, you aren’t worthy of Him. He wants us first and foremost. It isn’t that we can’t have the other people in our lives, but we cannot put them first.”

“As I did with Regina,” Latimore said regretfully. “Perhaps that is why He took her. He is a jealous God, is He not?”

Jacob reached out and put his hand atop Latimore’s. “I do not believe God is as cruel as that. He is a just and loving God also. People die, Captain. They are born and they die, and that is how it is in this fallen world of ours. I do not believe God would sneak in and steal your Regina away because of your love for her. But I do know that God wants our loyalty, our faithfulness. He wants us to seek Him above all others—first … always.” The words comforted Jacob even though he had hoped to comfort Latimore.

He continued. “Sometimes we are called to lose the things we hold most dear. Obedience is sometimes painful.”

Latimore nodded. “Indeed. It is no different than the child who must choose between following his own path or that of his father’s instruction. One path may seem easier, quicker—but experience might tell him that the more difficult path will be better, safer, more fulfilling.”

Jacob took the words deep into his heart. What path was God sending him on where Helaina was concerned?

“It seems you are contemplating weighty matters,” Latimore said before falling back against the cushion of furs.

“Perhaps too weighty for me to impart any wisdom that would be of use.”

“You’ve already helped me more than you realize,” Jacob replied. “I’m glad to have you back. I’ll pray for your continued recovery. The world needs more men like you.”

“Perhaps not so much the world,” Latimore replied, closing his eyes, “as one little boy.”

Chapter Eight

J
ohn hovered near death for days. Leah and Oopick worked together to help his body mend, but he’d lost a lot of blood. Fever and infection had been their biggest concern, and both had come with a vengeance. Leah knew their herbal remedies were good ones and that her own training was useful, but still she wished they had a doctor and a hospital.

“If John were stronger, I’d suggest having Kimik take him to Nome,” Leah said, looking up to meet Oopick’s and Kimik’s fretful gaze. “But the trip would kill him. I feel certain of it.”

“I think we should get the shaman,” Kimik declared. His defiance toward God had been building since the shooting. “My father deserves to have the care he’s always known.”

“Kimik,” his mother began, “you know your father no longer believes the old ways. I cannot go against his wishes, even if he cannot speak them now.”

“Your father believes in God’s ability to help him,” Leah offered. “God would not want you to yield to superstition.

Put your faith in God, Kimik.”

“God didn’t keep my father from getting shot.”

“Neither did God shoot your father,” Leah countered. “Whiskey caused another man to do that. If you want to do something positive for your father and this village, then convince the men to keep whiskey out. It’s not supposed to be here—so why not make a stand to enforce the law?”

“She’s right, my son.” Oopick put her hand on Kimik’s shoulder. “Your father would not want you to lose faith in God. He believes that God is powerful. He believes God loves us all.”

“Letting him get shot isn’t very loving. Why would God let this happen? Why would He not protect someone who loves Him?” Kimik sounded like a frightened boy instead of a grown man.

Leah felt sorry for her friend, knowing how hard it was to keep faith in the face of adversity. Hadn’t she asked these same questions regarding Jacob and Jayce’s disappearance?

“Kimik, who are we to question God? He does not think like we think. Your grandmother would tell you to clear the mud out of your ears and listen to what God tells you. He will not forget you. He has not forgotten your father.”

Leah saw tears come to Kimik’s eyes, and she longed to comfort him.

“I hate this,” Kimik finally said. Anguish was replaced with anger. “God is not fair. He is not merciful. If He were, my father would not be dying.” He stormed from Leah’s house.

“I am sorry for Kimik’s words,” Oopick said. She reached for a rag and began to wipe her husband’s brow. “He felt such sorrow over Ayoona’s passing. I think he’s afraid that same sorrow will come if his father passes.”

Leah mixed a bowl of herbs that she would use as a cleanser for the wound. “I think it’s fear that overwhelms him right now. Fear often makes me angry.” She pulled back the poultice they’d put on a few hours earlier and surveyed the wound. “It looks better.” And it did. Much of the inflammation was gone, and the swelling had lessened. “Let’s clean and dress this side, then see how it looks on the back side.”

The bullet had gone completely through John’s abdomen. Leah could only pray that it hadn’t caused problems with his internal organs, for there was no possible way she could perform the surgery necessary to heal that kind of injury.

Once the wound was redressed, Leah looked at the clock. “I’m going to get some rest. You should too.” Earlier she’d set up a small bed for Oopick right alongside John. “I also want to see the children.”

Oopick nodded. “I will rest. I will call for you if something happens. You have been a good friend to John—to me.”

Leah smiled and went to embrace the older woman. “I love you both so much. You are like family to me. I couldn’t bear to lose either one of you.”

Oopick’s brown-black eyes swelled with tears. “You are my family too.”

Leah wiped her eyes and stretched as she left the dark quiet of the room she’d given to Oopick and John. Helaina was there to greet her, as were the twins.

“Ah, there’s Mama,” Helaina said, pointing Wills in the right direction.

Merry had already spotted her mother and came running.

Wills joined her just in case there was something of interest.

Leah dropped to her knees and embraced them both.

“How is he? I saw Kimik storm out and feared the worst.”

Leah met Helaina’s concerned gaze. “John’s actually doing better—at least in my estimation. The wound seems less infected. The fever is nearly gone. I see those things as positive signs of healing.”

“Has he regained consciousness?”

“Only for very brief moments. Oopick wanted to keep him sedated as much as possible so that the wound would heal. We’re worried about how much damage that bullet did internally. There’s a possibility it managed to miss the most vital spots, but on the other hand, it could have injured a great deal and we’ll never know it until it is too late.”

“I’m sorry. I know this must be very frustrating to you.” Helaina began to pick up around the room.

“You have been a great help to me,” Leah said. Merry toddled off to play with her doll, and Wills seemed oblivious to everything but the new puppy Leah had allowed them to have. She thought it would be wise for the twins to have a guardian— especially for those times she couldn’t be everywhere at once. Champion—so named because she hoped he would take that role on behalf of the twins—was nearly the same size as Wills. Champ seemed delighted to be the boy’s playmate; the two were already inseparable. Merry was afraid of the dog at first, but even she was warming to their new companion.

“As I bathed them last night, I thought about how it would be to have my own children. I imagined a home of my own and …” Helaina fell silent and turned away to pick up a towel that had somehow fallen to the ground.

“That day will come, Helaina. I’m sure of it. You’ll have a family all your own.”

“If that’s what God has for me.” Helaina turned and shook her head. “But what if it’s not? What if Jacob—” “

Don’t say it,” Leah said, holding up her hand. “I couldn’t bear to hear it right now.”

Helaina gave her an odd look. “I wasn’t going to say what you think. I was merely suggesting that it’s possible Jacob will return and have no feelings for me.”

Leah let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired of the unknown. So many people asked me over the winter and now into the summer, ‘What will you do if they don’t come back? What will you do if they’re found dead?’ I just couldn’t stand the thought of hearing it again.”

Helaina came and put her arm around Leah. “I know, but that’s one question I will not ask. They are coming home. I know they will.”

“I just can’t stand the waiting. And now the only person who might have taken me to them is lying wounded in my spare room. It’s just more than I can bear.” Leah felt tears slide down her cheeks. “I feel as bad as Kimik. He was questioning why God would let this happen to his father, and I feel no different. I know God must be so disappointed in me. Where’s my faith? Where’s the peace that passeth understanding?” “

Leah, we all have our times of doubting and discouragement.”

Leah pulled away. “But I know better. God has proven himself to me over and over. It seems I never learn. Why can’t