TRAVERSING LAKE LINDEMAN proved to be an easy, almost carefree trip. The biggest problem was avoiding the other twenty or more boats that were attempting to launch at the same time. There was nearly a carnival-type atmosphere as the various pilots steered in one direction and then another. It soon became quite clear who had prior experience in boating. Adrik, steeped in years of childhood sailing and fishing, took to the water with great ease. Even Crispin, for all his upper-society manners, was quite adept on the boat. The boat itself proved to be a seaworthy vessel. The shrinkage of the raw lumber remained minimal, and the rocky passageways caused little damage.
Karen thought Adrik’s worry was all for naught as the One Mile Rapids and Lake Bennett soon became nothing more than exciting memories. After registering their boat in Bennett, along with scores of other desperate souls, the party pushed on and made exceptional time. Even Adrik had to admit that God was smiling on them. They’d managed to keep the boat clear of most obstacles, and even when the waters had grown rough, it was almost as if an unseen hand had maneuvered them through the dangers.
The little scow proved to be much bigger than Karen had originally believed. Once they’d positioned the smaller of their two tents in the middle of the boat and set up their provisions around those canvas walls, Karen felt they were living rather well. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t anything luxurious, but it was better than most.
But perhaps most surprising of all, Karen enjoyed life upon the water. She enjoyed the passing scenery and the glorious colors of the changing seasons. There was something simply marvelous about moving to a new place every day. After living a life of rigid convention in Chicago for the ten years prior to coming north, the Yukon offered a sort of liberty that appealed to Karen. She didn’t even mind the frost that touched most everything that morning.
Winter’s clutches were approaching, yet Karen refused to let her spirits be defeated. She thought of her mother’s letters describing Alaskan winters—bitterly cold and deep snows. Yukon winters were surely the same, and having survived the long dark season in Dyea only the year before, Karen was convinced she could manage the days to come.
That night Karen slipped away from her tent and found Adrik sitting near the small campfire they’d enjoyed earlier in the evening. She smiled at him and pulled her coat together to ward off the chill.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “I’m much too excited.”
“We’re doing well,” he admitted. “I had my concerns, but I have to say things are going along better than I could have planned.”
“Hand of God,” she whispered.
He glanced up. “Is that a question?”
Karen folded her arms and looked to the skies. “You needn’t worry about me. I’m all right.” She stated the words, knowing he would understand, but was surprised when he questioned her further.
“What do you mean, you’re all right?”
Karen wondered if he needed to hear her confess she had yielded her will. Why was it that God and Adrik Ivankov always demanded she completely surrender her innermost secrets?
“Why don’t you sit down here beside me,” Adrik suggested, “and tell me exactly what’s on your mind?”
Karen hesitated for a moment. Could she trust herself with Adrik? She knew her heart in the matter. She wanted very much to declare her love for him, but she was so uncertain of how he might respond. He obviously found her desirable, but love—now, that was a different story. Could he really love her? And if he did, what would that love require of her?
She inched closer and knelt down beside the fire. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve yielded my anger to God.” She stared into the fire rather than risk Adrik’s eyes. “You’ve so often borne the brunt of that anger and had to keep me from making a fool of myself—
” “On more than one occasion,” Adrik interjected with a laugh.
She turned to him and saw that he intended only to lighten her mood. “Yes, well, I thank you for that. I know I can be difficult at times.”
Adrik nodded. “That’s what your pa always said.”
“He said that?” Her tone betrayed her surprise.
“He said that you were the one pea in the pod that just refused to be alike. Your sisters were calm, quiet children who settled down to marriage and family, but not you. You thirsted for knowledge and adventure and went after both with great enthusiasm.”
Karen laughed softly. “Yes, I can imagine him saying just that.”
“He loved you, you know.”
Karen felt tears come to her eyes. “I loved him, too. I still can’t believe he’s gone. I was certain he was the treasure I was coming north to find. I was certain he would give me answers and purpose for my life.”
“Only God can do that, Karen.”
“I know that—at least now I do. I’d always espoused that belief in words, but I guess God had to bring me through fire to help me make it something more than words.”
“He’s making you grow. Making your faith grow. Your pa used to say that a man’s faith was like building a house. You give it a good foundation, and then you have something to build on. Even then, you have to add to that basic structure. A house has to have walls and a roof.”
“A floor’s nice, too,” Karen said with a smile. After living with the ground beneath for her tent floor, she was ready for real wood under her feet.
Adrik chuckled, “Floors are good, too.” He reached out and touched her hand. “Faith has to be added in order to make it strong. It doesn’t happen overnight.”
“My mother used to say that God’s love for us was instantaneous, but that human beings needed time to learn to love.” Karen had spoken without thinking, and now the memory burned in her heart as she looked deep into Adrik’s eyes.
She knew he cared—of that she was certain. But did he love her? Did he love her enough to want the rest of his life altered by a wife—children? He’d teased her in Dyea about getting married in order to share a tent. He’d kissed her until Karen had lost all reasonable thought. But did this constitute that kind of love that meant “forever”?
Adrik was a free spirit. She’d known that from the moment she’d first met him. He’d told her tales of wandering the land, of living among his grandmother’s people, of learning what the land had to offer him. He’d shared sad tales of the battles fought over the land, of whites who destroyed the Tlingit commerce and livelihood, of sickness that had destroyed entire villages. He knew this land and people and loved them both. Karen knew that in order to have Adrik Ivankov, she’d have to accept his land and people as her own. Could she do that? Could she give herself over to this frozen north—this deadly but beautiful land?
She felt his fingers stroking her hand. The sensation caused her to tremble. He was the only man in the world who could make her feel all weak in the knees.
“You’d better get to bed,” Adrik said abruptly. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us tomorrow.” He fairly jumped up from his seat on the ground.
He helped Karen to her feet but didn’t wait for her response. Confused by his actions, Karen shook her head. Who was this man, and what did he want from her?
————
“What do you mean we have to walk around the rapids?” Karen declared.
Adrik stood his ground. He’d known Karen was going to be a problem. “The Northwest Mounted Police have set the regulation for Miles Canyon. The rapids are too rough there, and people have drowned while trying to make it through.”
“But we made it through other rapids just fine,” Karen protested.
“Maybe there’s something different about this particular area,” Grace suggested.
Karen shook her head. “Even if that were true, why not merely tell us of the dangers and leave the decision up to us?”
“Karen,” Adrik began in a firmer tone, “I have no say over what the officials of this country dictate. They have decided the rapids are too difficult for women.”
“Just women? What about men? Why don’t the men have to walk?”
Adrik clamped his mouth shut and looked heavenward. The woman could be so argumentative when she decided to be. Why couldn’t she just accept the ruling and deal with it in the same calm manner as her traveling companions?
“I happen to enjoy the exhilaration of the rapids,” Karen continued. “I want to ride them out with you and Crispin. If Grace and Miranda and Leah wish to walk, I have no objection.”
“You aren’t going, and that’s final!” Adrik declared louder than he’d intended.
“You’re just trying to control me!”
“Well, somebody has to.”
Karen gave him a look that would have frozen a weaker man in his steps, but not Adrik. He knew only too well that this was for her own good, and he wasn’t about to let her run roughshod over him. “You’ll walk and that’s final. If I die taking the scow to Whitehorse, then I die. I built the boat and I’ll stand by it. But I won’t risk the rest of you, and that’s my final word.” He turned to Crispin and added, “They have men to help pilot the boats through the rapids, so you don’t have to come with me.”
“Nonsense,” Crispin said with a gleam in his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Karen looked at Adrik as if waiting for him to change his mind. When he didn’t, she stormed off to the women’s tent. When suppertime came, she was still there, and Adrik knew she’d be difficult to contend with. Why couldn’t she see that he was only trying to keep her safe? Personally, he was glad for the rule. He’d heard many accounts of the dangers from passing travelers. In fact, that day in the small community that had formed at the head of Miles Canyon, he’d nearly called the trip off after hearing about all the problems with broken ships and lost souls.
“It’s the reason we must insist that you portage your goods and passengers,” one of the officials told him firmly. “There’s a tramway, and your supplies may be loaded onto flat cars. The walk is a decent one except for the mosquitos. Your women will much prefer it to the ride down the canyon.”
Adrik would have laughed had the situation not seemed so grim. Most women might have preferred it, but not his women. At least not one woman in particular.
By morning Karen was still not
speaking to him, and Adrik had decided enough was enough. He wasn’t
going to sit around and wait for her to come to her senses. He
marveled that she could be so level-headed one moment and so
completely obstinate the next. Resolving to concentrate on the task
at hand, however, Adrik put in his request for help with the rapids
and waited his turn to battle Miles Canyon.
“You’re being awfully hard on him, aren’t you?” Grace questioned as they washed up the breakfast dishes.
Karen shrugged. “He’s just doing this to control the situation.” She scrubbed hard at a pie pan, almost imagining she was scrubbing out Adrik’s image. Why did the man have to so completely infuriate her one moment and leave her breathless and trembling the next? What kind of madness had overtaken her?
“The authorities have set this rule, not Mr. Ivankov. He only means to see us safe, Karen. I think you’re judging him too harshly.”
Karen paused and eyed her friend. Grace’s color was rather pale, and Karen had worried about her ever since leaving Lindeman. Perhaps Karen’s anger was only adding to Grace’s exhaustion. With a sigh she set the pan aside. “Grace, I don’t know what to do with my feelings. One minute I think I’m in love with him, and the next minute I’d just as soon push him into the river.”
Grace offered a bittersweet smile. “I’d like to tell you it gets easier, but I can’t. I’m a poor example to follow. I have no idea where my husband has gone. He could very well be dead for all I know, and it breaks my heart to think that the last words we shared were such harsh ones.”
Karen nodded. “I know and I’m sorry, Grace. I shouldn’t be telling my woes to you. My problems pale compared to your heartbreak.”
Miranda bounded into the tent announcing, “Crispin says we’re to pack up and head out within the hour. They’ve made the final arrangements, and we’re to meet them on the other side of the rapids. We’ll actually be in Whitehorse tonight!”
“I’ve heard it’s grown into quite a city,” Grace said. Then she clutched at the edge of the tent, appearing as if she might collapse.
“What is it?” Karen exclaimed, going to her friend’s side. “Are you all right?”
Grace nodded and steadied herself against Karen’s arm. “I just got a little dizzy for a moment. I’m sure it’s just the lack of sleep and decent meals. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a large bowl of fruit.” She smiled reassuringly. “How about you?”
Karen wasn’t at all convinced of her friend’s health. “I think you’d better see a doctor once we get to Whitehorse. You haven’t been well the entire trip, and frankly, I’m worried. It isn’t like you to be so pale and weak.”
“I’ll be fine,” Grace said, walking to where she’d left bread dough to rise. “I guess we’ll have to figure a way to carry this with us or throw it out. I can’t see wasting it.”
“Let’s put it in the big kettle,” Miranda suggested. “We’ll cover it and pack it with the other things and let them portage it for us. Maybe it will be ready to bake by the time we get to the other side.”
The two women went to work on the bread dough while Karen considered the situation. Guilt set in, making her miserable. She couldn’t let things go on between her and Adrik as they were. What if something happened to him on the trip through the rapids? Other people had died. Other boats had broken apart on the rocks. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She would rather die with Adrik than live without him. For the first time in her life, Karen was certain of what it meant to be in love with a man. She couldn’t let him leave without her. She just couldn’t stay behind.
————
“It’s like nothin’ ya’ve ever known,” the boat pilot told Adrik as he moved them out into the water. “It’s the most untamed stretch of water in the continent. We’ll be through it right quick, but ya’ll be wonderin’ what happened to ya for weeks to come.”
Adrik wanted to ask the man about his experience—his abilities—but instead he said nothing as they maneuvered away from shore. He had no idea whether the man knew what he was talking about or not, but he’d paid the exorbitant sum of twenty-five dollars to have the boat taken down the water, and Adrik would have to trust that the man knew his job. After all, his life was as much on the line as Adrik’s or Crispin’s. Still, he looked awfully young, and he was even shorter than Karen. He was just a kid, as far as Adrik was concerned—a kid who held their lives in his hands as he controlled the scow.
The man seemed unconcerned with what they were about to experience. He chattered incessantly as he worked the boat to the middle of the river. “Ya have to ride the midriver crest in order to survive the white water. Running the white ain’t for the faint of heart. I’m glad they’ve taken to puttin’ the ladies off the boats. Just ain’t safe.”
Adrik could agree with the man there, especially after conversing with one of the officials. The man seemed to positively delight in giving him the details of crafts that had crashed and broken apart on the rocks. It was as if the story were the man’s own personal melodrama and Adrik was his only audience.
There was little time to worry any more about it, however. Adrik could feel their speed pick up as the current caught them and pulled them down into the canyon. The water was swift, but not unduly rough. At least not yet. Thick stretches of pines and spruce topped walls some one hundred feet high on either side. The walls seemed to narrow as the water picked up speed and roughness. As the scow lifted up and slammed down against the churning water, Adrik was glad the women had left by foot hours earlier. They’d be safe and sound once Adrik and the men got the scow safely through the canyon. If they got the scow through. Adrik had the distinct sensation they were being taken to their graves. Within a few minutes he knew he had good reason to feel that way.
“Hold on to yar hats,” the pilot called, “there’s rocks ahead. Ya’ll want to keep yar poles ready.”
The scow dipped and pitched, and Adrik steadied himself as best he could. He could have anticipated the rocks that sent the little boat into a bit of a spin. What he could not have anticipated was the crash of a human body landing at his feet.
Karen looked up from the deck with a lopsided smile. “Surprise,” she said meekly as the boat pitched once again and water sprayed up around them.
————
“The man actually expects me to take this lying down,” Peter told his friend. Jonas simply nodded and looked to Peter for further explanation. In the weeks since Paxton had first suggested Peter put a legal end to his marriage, Peter had received two letters from the man further outlining the procedure. “I won’t divorce her. I won’t give either one of them that kind of satisfaction.”
“You’re mighty quick to judge that she’s agreeing to this matter,” Jonas replied. “I would have thought if she were in such an all-fire hurry to get rid of you, she would have allowed that Paxton fellow to help her get the divorce rather than waitin’ for you to see to it.”
“Perhaps Paxton believes I would have an easier time of it,” Peter said, pushing back his hair in exasperation. “But I won’t do it!”
“Then don’t,” Jonas said, reaching across the table to help himself to his pipe and tobacco.
“I wanted to kill him,” Peter said, looking to his friend for some kind of comment. “I honestly wanted to see him die on the spot.”
“Can’t say as I blame you. If a man were keepin’ my wife from me, I’d probably feel the same way. Especially if he’d caused as much trouble as this Paxton fellow has for you.”
Peter finally stopped his pacing and sat down at the table. “What am I supposed to do? Grace is gone. I’ve no doubt lost her forever. My anger and stupidity have put up a permanent wall between us.” He buried his face in his hands. “I miss her so much. I need her.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Jonas asked.
Peter raised his gaze and saw that the man was staring at him as if awaiting an answer. What could he say? Why had he left Skagway and Paxton to return to the railway camp? Why had he gone without beating the truth out of Paxton and insisting on Grace’s return?
Shrugging, Peter suddenly knew the answer. “Because I’m not man enough to do anything else. I’m less than a whole man without her.”
Jonas smiled. “I can well understand how ya feel. A good woman completes a man—makes him see what’s been missin’ in his life. God said it wasn’t good for man to be alone, and it sure as well ain’t.”
Peter looked at Jonas, and an aching filled his heart. “Jonas, tell me about your God. Tell me why He should care about someone like me—why He should forgive me or need my adoration. Religion makes no sense to me.”
“Me neither,” Jonas said with a laugh. “All that mumbo jumbo and risin’ up and sittin’ down. I could never carry a tune, so I didn’t figure it made much sense to put myself in a place that made a point of havin’ singin’.” He put the pipe aside and shook his head. “Knowin’ God has nothin’ to do with religion.”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t understand. Grace went to church every Sunday and read her Bible all the time. She wanted the same for me, and I couldn’t give it to her. She wanted me to forgive Martin Paxton. I couldn’t see the sense in that, either.”
“Your little wife went to church because it pleased her to do so. She no doubt had friends there and folks who were of a like mind. That’s fellowshipin’, and I don’t mind that one bit. But you can’t box God into a buildin’. He’s everywhere, Peter. He most prefers to be here.” He pounded his chest for a moment. “Right here, in your heart.”
“I just don’t know,” Peter said, getting to his feet once again. “It doesn’t make sense to me. All I can think about is my family. I need to know if my father is well, if my mother is safe. I need to know where my sister is and what she’s doing. And I need Grace.”
“In more ways than you realize,” Jonas said with a grin. “My advice to you is to skedaddle out of this place and go home. Start with your folks. And maybe on the ship ride home, you could have a word or two with the Almighty. I’m thinkin’ He’d be pleased to listen to the matter if you were of a mind to tell Him about it.”