The Snowflake (14 page)

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Authors: Jamie Carie

BOOK: The Snowflake
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I sipped the hot coffee and let my face go blank and serious. “The top of his head came to my nose, and he had two missing teeth among the rotten ones. I’m holding out for a little better.”

Kate threw back her head and laughed. I smiled at her.

Kate had held up her end of the bargain. She stopped by every couple of days to check on the business, and she always made time to sit and chat with me and listened while I read the Bible. Her observations and comments about what we read revealed her wit and intelligence and often shocked me or made me laugh. There was nothing she was afraid to say, and I found myself thinking about the people in the Bible in a new way. Aside from Father Judge, Kate was the most honest person I’d ever known.

One of her elegant eyebrows arched, and I knew she was about to be very honest.

“I don’t suppose any man around here could catch your heart. It’s already taken, isn’t it?” A look of compassionate knowing emanated from her eyes.

“I suppose it is.” My voice was soft in agreement as I took another sip and hid part of my face with the cup.

Kate sat up, her face alight with mischief. “I have an idea that will take your mind off him.”

I rolled my eyes and set down the cup. This was not going to be good.

“Christmas is just four days away, right?”

I nodded, my stomach clenching at the reminder. Would Buck really come?

“I’m thinking of having an auction.”

I blinked once. “What kind of auction?”

She tilted her head sideways and flashed white teeth at me. “Why a ‘Bride for Christmas’ auction, of course.”

I groaned. It was worse than I thought. “That’s a terrible idea.”

Her lips pursed in a pretend pout. “It’s a wonderful idea and you know it. The men are never lonelier than on Christmas day. You girls will fetch a small fortune, and I will split it with you fifty/fifty.”

“Kate . . . if you use the word
wife
, you know they will want a wife, with all the wifely duties included. You need to take this idea to Paradise Alley.”

“Those men can have the fallen birds on that street any time they want. Now listen. I will make it clear on the advertisements that it is not a real marriage with bedroom expectations. Just spend the day with a lonely man, cook him a nice Christmas dinner, listen to his stories, and pretend to care about him for twenty-four hours. It’s brilliant!”

If the men abided by such rules, and after getting to know many of them I thought they would, I had to admit she would make a small fortune in one evening. But it was still risky. The girls would have to go home with the miner and no longer be under the protection of the Monte Carlo.

“It might be brilliant, but I’m not interested.” I couldn’t tell her that Buck might, just might, come back for Christmas, and I couldn’t be pretending to be somebody’s wife if he walked through the door. I couldn’t tell her that, but the light in her eyes told me I didn’t have to.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting.

“If you participate, I will personally pay off the remaining debt for Saint Mary’s Hospital.” Her lips curved up as her eyes slanted. “I know how much you love that place.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle her. The hospital had substantial debt, and the possibility of clearing it . . . the look on Father Judge’s face when he was told? I pressed my lips together in a tight line and glared at Kate.

She had the good sense not to gloat.

If Buck did come back, I could always explain. He would understand if it was for a good cause, wouldn’t he?

“You always get what you want, don’t you, Kate?” The resentment in my voice was as thick as molasses.

She shrugged, a look of determination filling her eyes. “I always want good things, Ellen. Everyone wins—the miners, you girls, me, and most of all, the hospital. What’s so wrong with that?”

I sighed. “All right, Kate. You win . . . again. When is the auction?”

“Christmas Eve, of course. Right here in the dance hall.” Her eyes fairly twinkled with excitement. “And tonight we will spread the word and hint, a planted rumor if you will, that Dawson’s own Jewel will be on the auction block.”

The nightmare washed back over me like cold fingers clawing at my back. I sat up, a sudden gasping of breath, and slowly blinked awake. It was an old dream, one I hadn’t had in years, but as chilling as the first time.

I swung my feet to the floor and stood up to pace. My breath made puffs of vapor in the freezing air, but my shivering was from more than the cold. I saw it again—my father with big chains in his hands, wrapping them around my mother’s throat. He tightened the chains, slowly cutting off her breath, until she sagged against the back of the chair.

It was just a dream. Just a dream.

I repeated the phrase until my heartbeat slowed, but I couldn’t shake off the crawling sensation on my back.
Oh, Buck. I wish you were here. I wish I had someone to talk to. I wish I had someone to hold me. I’m so tired of being alone.

I sat back on the bed and pulled the blanket around me, trying to be quiet and not wake Stella. The early morning light filtered in through the cracks of the dark curtains as I laid my forehead against my upraised knees.

Dear Lord, why did my father have to leave? Why wasn’t he strong enough? I need someone to talk to. I’ve been praying for everyone else—the men, Kate, the girls here, Buck—but I am afraid to pray for myself. I’m afraid You won’t be there for me either, just like my father . . .

Tears trickled from beneath my tightly closed eyes as I said the truth in my heart. Why did I think God might answer my prayers for others but not for me?

The dream washed back over me, and I saw my father’s face. It turned from loving affection to snarling, lip-curling hatred directed at my mother. He had hated her. Hated what she put him through with her emotional and physical problems, and that’s why he left. It wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d picked up his place when he left and kept everything and everyone together the best I could. And Jonah? Jonah had demanded we come here. I had tried to take the very best care of him that I could. I took a long, shaky breath. It wasn’t my fault that he died.

Lord, show me what You think of me. Those Scriptures said You have thoughts toward me, outnumbering the sand. Tell me Your thoughts.

Nothing came for a long time, and then flashes of light flickered behind my closed eyes. I saw myself in a glowing white gown lying in a grassy meadow with wildflowers of every color swaying in a sweet-smelling breeze all around me. Upon my head was a crown of entwined wildflowers and bright green leaves. My feet were bare and my hands were outstretched. The breeze blew over me and somehow through me from my feet, up and up, to my head bringing with it a deep and profound sense of peace. A small smile played across my lips as I simply rested.

Gone was all the fear, all the anxiety about the future, all the struggles of wants and desires unfulfilled. The peace was so strong, so alive, there wasn’t room for anything else. Like a bright light, it conquered every inch of my darkness. I laughed.

It started as a small giggle and then built and built until I threw myself back on the bed in a fit of pure joy. I laughed until tears poured down my cheeks as the relief of knowing God’s peace and care for me spread through my core to touch and tingle every part of my body.

God hadn’t left me at all! I’d just forgotten He was there.

“Ellen! Whatever is the matter with you?”

I turned over to see Stella standing over me with wide, panicked eyes. Another giggle escaped that I tried to suppress. “God loves me,” I whispered and then giggled again.

Stella shook her head back and forth. “Of course He does. Nobody deserves it like you do.”

“No.” I sat up and grasped her forearms, my eyes wide with the truth. “He really loves me! And He loves you too. And everybody. It’s so big. Just ask Him to show you.”

“You’ve gone and lost your wits, Ellen. Of course God loves everybody.” Stella backed away and climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over her head. “Get some sleep. We’ve got the auction tonight.”

It struck me as I lay down, still smiling, still feeling overwhelmed with God’s love for me, that Stella wasn’t ready to see it yet. That I hadn’t been really ready until just this moment. That God was there all along, waiting for all of us to wake up.

Thank You for waking me up, Lord.

I drifted off with a smile on my face, resting in the cradle of His arms.

Buck stood across from Inspector Constantine in the Northwest Mounted Police headquarters in Forty Mile, trying to curb his impatience. “There has got to be something you can do.”

The inspector shook his head, a frown showing underneath a thick, brown beard. “Mr. Lewis, I’m sorry about your wife, but Skagway is US territory, and besides, it sounds like an accident by your account of the story. Unfortunately these things happen.”

Buck gritted his teeth and slapped his hat back on his head. “So, even if I find him and haul him back here, you won’t do a thing about it, is that right?”

“I can question him, possibly send him back to Alaska, but sir, what motive would the man have to kill your wife? Would you want someone punished for an accident? It could happen to anybody.”

“It didn’t happen to anybody. It happened to her!” Buck’s voice rose and then quieted. “It happened to me.”

The inspector sighed and nodded with a compassionate look in his brown eyes. “Tell you what. You bring him in, and we’ll get to the bottom of what happened. I will keep an eye out for him too. You say he is with one or two other fellows?”

Buck gave the descriptions of the two men he knew were traveling together again and then turned to leave. “Thank you, sir.” He pushed out the door into the bright sunshine that glittered off the snow and hurt his eyes. Tears trickled down the creases in his cheeks as he blinked rapidly. He felt like cursing but instead slapped his thigh and walked to the dogsled.

He’d been in Forty Mile for two weeks! Two weeks of almost catching up with them. But every time he got close, they moved on to another streambed or tributary of the Forty Mile River. It was as if they knew he was tracking them and were able to stay just one step ahead. But how could that be? He’d told no one his business in the little town, just presented himself as another gold seeker. It didn’t make sense.

Buck led the dogs to the barely discernible street, readying them for the long mush back toward Moosehide Creek. He’d heard last night at a saloon that two men, strangers to all, were camping in an old abandoned cabin there. It was the first good lead he’d had in days. And now with Inspector Constantine’s promise of support, albeit reluctant, Buck had more reason to bring them in than ever before.

Lord, I could sure use some help with this. I’m ready, Lord. Please.

The day was warmer, and Buck passed several townsfolk as he rode by on the dogsled toward the confluence in the road, one branch following the Forty Mile River west, and the other heading back toward Dawson City following the Yukon River.

Someone he recognized from the saloon last night waved as he went past and yelled, “If you’re back by tomorrow, stop in for some Christmas cheer. Big celebration at the Bald Eagle!”

Everything inside Buck stopped. Tomorrow was Christmas? How could he have forgotten? Ellen’s face flashed in front of him, and the letter she’d sent him burned from his coat pocket against his chest. He gripped the reins with one hand and pulled it out with the other, opening it with his teeth. It was wrinkled and creased from reading it so many times.

God, why do I feel like I’ve left a part of me behind?
It had been different with his wife—he’d been so much older than her, strong, confident. Ellen seemed more of an equal somehow.

Buck came to the
Y
in the road and hauled on the reins. “Whoa.” He looked west, toward the man who had killed his wife, and then east, toward Dawson City and Ellen. His mind made swift calculations of the time and distance. It was the middle of the day on Christmas Eve . . .

If he headed west, he would never make it back for Christmas. He’d promised Ellen. Her father had left her before Christmas. If Buck broke his promise, she would never trust him or believe him again.

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