Rivers of Gold (33 page)

“No,” Karen said shaking her head. “I’m sure it wasn’t. Jacob was there that night. He would have recognized Cec Blackabee if he’d been the man. I’m suggesting that Mr. Blackabee may have a partner.”

“This is all very interesting, but it doesn’t prove Mr. Barringer’s innocence. I have eye witnesses—”

“Who saw the boy holding the rifle,” Adrik interjected. “But no one saw him commit the murder.”

“I wish I could help you. I will be happy to check into this matter more thoroughly, but the truth is, you’re going to have to have evidence to confirm the story—evidence that will stand up in a court of law. Otherwise, I’m afraid the judge will deal most harshly with this young man.”

“Meaning exactly what?” Karen asked.

“Meaning if he’s found guilty, he’ll most likely be hanged.”

—[CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT]—

“ARE THEY GOING TO kill my brother?” Leah asked, her voice quavering.

Karen looked up from the dining table. “We can’t even think that way,” she said. “Surely, God won’t let him be punished for something he didn’t do.”

“Innocent people get blamed for things all the time. You said so yourself,” Leah replied.

Adrik turned to her. “You can’t let this kind of thinking rule your heart. It isn’t fair that Jacob is having to endure this. Nor is it fair that you have to endure this heartache.”

“It also wasn’t fair that Mr. Gump had to die,” Leah interrupted. “Nothing about this place seems fair. People hurt each other and cheat each other—and all because of the gold.”

“No,” Adrik said. “It isn’t the gold, it’s the sin of greed. The gold is just a metallic rock that lays there and does nothing. It has no thoughts or feelings, it simply exists.”

“The wealth assigned it comes from human decisions,” Karen added.

“Well, it’s still not fair.”

Adrik nodded. “You’re sure right on that point. It’s not fair.”

“But then we should be able to do something about it!” Leah declared, pushing away her bread pudding.

“Sweetheart,” Adrik began, “there is much in life that isn’t fair—never has been, never will be. Innocence is lost, trust is betrayed, and love is misused. It’s been happening that way since the beginning of time.”

“It’s sure been happening since the beginning of my time,” Leah muttered.

“Leah, do you believe God is singling you out for trials? Look at Karen,” Adrik replied. “She lost her mother and father. She left a good life in Chicago where she had plenty of everything she needed. She lost her aunt in a fire. And she got saddled with me.” He grinned as he added the latter statement.

Leah couldn’t help but smile as Karen interjected, “Yes, and he’s been a troublesome burden ever since.” She playfully nudged Adrik. “He’s not at all easy to live with.”

Leah enjoyed their playful spirit. It reminded her of her mother and father. Still, she also remembered times when her mother’s heartbroken cries nearly broke her heart. “It’s just so hard,” Leah finally replied, sobering again.

Adrik gently touched her cheek. “I know it is. Jesus never said it wouldn’t be. In fact, He told us life would be difficult. He told us we would have troubles, but that we could be of good cheer because He has already overcome the world and all the problems it could ever bring. That’s in the gospel of John, sixteenth chapter. So you see, it isn’t fair. And life is hard. But it’s nothing new. Every person in the world has to deal with the same sort of thing at one time or another.”

“They don’t all end up in jail fearing for their lives,” Leah protested.

“Maybe not the kind of jail your brother is in, but there are all kinds of ways to be imprisoned and all manner of dealings that threaten our very lives.” Adrik squeezed her hand and smiled. “But Jesus is bigger than all of this. He’s already seen it. Already dealt with it. It’s as though when we have to go through it, we can rest in Him ’cause He already knows the direction to take to get us through in one piece.”

“But Jesus could have kept the bad from happening,” Leah said and tears came to her eyes. “He could have kept Jacob from being blamed for killing Mr. Gump. He could have kept Mr. Gump alive.”

“Without a doubt,” Adrik said, nodding. “And that really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Leah swallowed hard. “Yes. It hurts me to think of God just standing there letting Jacob get hauled away for something he didn’t do. It makes me want to die inside when I think that things might keep going wrong—that God might keep standing back, doing nothing, while they decide to hang my brother.”

It was Karen’s turn to talk. “Do you trust God, Leah?”

The girl shrugged. “I thought I did. I sure want to trust Him.”

“Sometimes the only thing we can do is accept that He knows best—that He has a plan and is just and loving.”

“And sovereign,” Adrik added.

“What does that mean?”

“Sovereign means that God is the absolute, highest authority. He’s the final word on everything. He’s the one in charge of how things will be. No matter what—no matter how it looks or feels. It means trusting that He’s in control even when things seem very much out of control.”

“That’s really hard,” Leah said. She lowered her head and wiped her tears. “My mama used to say that same thing. She told me when she was dying that God’s ways were sometimes hard for us to understand, but that we have to keep on believing in Him—we have to have faith that He will take care of us.”

She looked up to Karen and Adrik. “She said that was what being a Christian was all about.”

“It sounds like your mother was a very wise woman,” Adrik said softly, then added, “I’m figuring you’re a lot like her. Maybe even more than you know.”

Jacob sat at the same wooden table where he’d visited with Adrik and Karen only two days before. Now, however, instead of his friends, an American lawyer sat opposite him.

“Your friends have put me on retainer to see to your needs,” the man said, adjusting his eyeglasses. “My name is Calvin Kinkade. I’m originally from Oregon, but I found it lucrative to journey north.” He paused and, after fussing a bit more with his glasses, looked at the paper he’d brought with him.

“I’m afraid that there isn’t much here to help me.” He looked directly at Jacob, his eyes peering over the top rims of the silver-framed spectacles. “Unless we can produce a witness or this Mr. Blackabee, I’m not sure we’ll be able to convince anyone of your innocence.”

“I thought they were supposed to prove my guilt,” Jacob said rather snidely. He wasn’t feeling at all good about the fact that Adrik had brought a lawyer in on the situation. That had to mean that things didn’t look good—that they were in desperate need of legal help.

“Yes, well, given the fact that so many people saw you standing over the dead man, gun in hand, I believe they feel they have sufficient proof of your guilt.”

“That’s what I figured. So why is Adrik wasting his hardearned money by hiring you?”

The man was nonplussed. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Do you not see the need for legal representation?”

Jacob knew his anger would soon speak for him, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. “I didn’t kill Gump. He was a good friend, and the last thing I wanted to see was his death. I don’t much care anymore what anyone believes. You aren’t going to solve this case by sitting here picking at my brain. You need to be out there,” Jacob pointed to the window. “Cec Blackabee is out there, and it doesn’t much matter to him who ends up dead if it means that he gets what he wants.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I can speak to your guardian on the details of this and see what is to be done.”

When Jacob said nothing more, the man got to his feet. “I have arranged for you to have a visitor. Mr. Ivankov felt it was most important.” The lawyer nodded to the guard, who in turn opened the door.

Leah Barringer ran across the room and threw herself into Jacob’s arms. “Oh, I thought they’d never let me in here,” she cried.

“I can’t believe they did,” Jacob replied, holding her away from him enough to get a good look. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, but you look terrible.”

He laughed. It felt good to laugh. “I’m fine. I’m working hard, but it’s not too bad.”

“Working? What are you doing?”

“I’m cutting wood for the city. That’s how they keep the prisoners busy around here, and sometimes it’s how they sentence guilty folks. They end up cutting wood for so many weeks or months.”

“How awful,” Leah said, glancing down to see the irons on Jacob’s ankles. “Are they afraid you’ll run away?”

Jacob shrugged, trying to keep things light. He could see the fear in Leah’s expression and wanted to put her mind at ease. “They do this to everyone when they bring them out of their cell.”

“Oh,” Leah said, seeming to calm with his response.

“I’ll give you two a moment alone,” Mr. Kinkade said, then went to speak with the guard.

“Leah, I want you to promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll stay with Karen and Adrik and grow up sensible.”

“I promise. But what about you?”

“It doesn’t much matter at this point. I can’t free myself. I can’t leave the jail and go find Cec. If I could, I would.”

“Adrik’s looking for him,” Leah replied. “He’ll find him.” Jacob reached out and pushed one of his sister’s braids back over her shoulder. She was growing up so fast, she hardly resembled the youngster she once had been. Soon she’d have beaus and then a husband and children. He wanted a better life for her. Better than their mother had known. Better than they had known.

“I’m sure if anyone can find Cec, Adrik’s the man. Just don’t go getting your hopes up. Cec may be far from here by now.”

“You have to have faith, Jacob.” Leah’s expression grew quite serious. “We have to trust God, even though it seems like He doesn’t care. He’s always out there—watching us and dealing with us. He hasn’t left us, even if we don’t understand why these things are going on.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought this through,” Jacob said.

“I have. I wasn’t very happy when this all started, but while I’m still not happy with the way things are, I know God is in control of everything.”

Leah’s words were exactly what Jacob needed. He needed to know she believed in him—trusted him and loved him. But he also needed to hear her declare her faith. Somehow, for whatever reason, he felt as if he were sustained because of her faith.

“Karen and I have been praying. We know God has everything in His hand. He sees us and loves us, and He’s not going to let you be falsely charged.”

It warmed Jacob’s heart to know that without even having to ask, Leah knew he wasn’t capable of murdering Gump. He hugged her close. “Thank you. Thank you for coming here and thank you for believing in me.”

Leah stepped back. “How could I not?” She smiled. “I have to go now, but just you wait. You’ll see. We’ll find that horrible Mr. Blackabee, and you’ll be set free.” She hugged him tight. “I love you, Jacob.”

Her words broke through the wall Jacob had put around his heart. Holding her close, he countered her words with his own declaration. “I love you, too.”

Long after she’d gone and Jacob was back to work on the woodpile, her words stayed with him. They gave him a rhythm to work with. “You’ll be—set free. You’ll be—set free.” He lifted the axe and brought it down in an imagined beat. Then a verse from the Bible came to him.
Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free
.

“They’ll know the truth,” Jacob said bringing the ax down hard. “and I will be set free.”

“I think trying to find Cec Blackabee will be rather like hunting for the proverbial needle in a haystack,” Karen declared as she, Leah, and Adrik sat keeping company with Miranda and Teddy.

The night had grown late, but while Teddy would have just as soon gone to bed, he knew his new friends needed to discuss their strategies. He wanted to help as best he could, but nothing seemed reasonable.

“The man could well be back down toward Whitehorse by now,” Teddy reasoned.

“I thought of that already,” Adrik declared. “I gave his description to the Mounties and told them all about Cec’s saloon in Whitehorse. Someone there is bound to know him and should be able to keep an eye open for him. But I really don’t think he would have left this area. He desperately wants those missing papers. They mean a lot of money to him—at least that’s how I figure it.”