Brides of Alaska (12 page)

Images of Sam filled Julie's mind. She thought of the ring that lay securely at the bottom of her knapsack. It was a symbol of Sam's devotion. Would she ever be able to put the ring on and give Sam the answer he longed to hear?

In the back of her mind, Julie remembered the verses from Ecclesiastes that her father had read.
“Two are better than one…. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.”
Loneliness penetrated her heart.

Julie consoled herself with the idea of stopping at home before pushing west. Maybe she could talk to her father about Sam's proposal and her loneliness. He could offer her some idea of what she should do.

Julie checked the tarp covering her supplies and, when she was certain that everything was secure, she took to the back of her sled.

“Were you planning on leaving without saying good-bye?” Sam questioned as he placed his hands on Julie's shoulders.

Julie turned. Dim light illuminated Sam's bearded face. His hair had been neatly cut and his beard trimmed. He was quite handsome, Julie decided. She could do much worse.

“I can't always be looking over my shoulder for you, every time I'm about to go on my route,” Julie said, trying to distance herself from the emotions Sam stirred within her.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” Sam countered. “I don't suppose you've given much thought to my proposal.”

“I've, uh, well,” Julie stammered, “I've been busy with my nursing. Since the first part of the month, I've been working with Dr. Welch and haven't even managed to get home. I also have several villages to the northwest to attend to, so you can see I've been very busy.”

“That doesn't answer my question,” Sam remarked.

“I think it should,” Julie said nervously. “I've been too busy to see my family. Doesn't it seem reasonable that I've been too busy to consider your marriage proposal?”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “It doesn't.”

Julie's mouth opened in surprise. She had banked on Sam's good nature making him drop the issue. Instead he remained a determined force to be reckoned with.

“Do you have any idea what my nursing means to me?” Julie asked seriously.
Perhaps
, she thought,
if Sam knew what my responsibilities mean to me, he'd understand my hesitation
.

“Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” Sam said as he moved closer. His warm breath formed frosty white steam in the morning cold.

“That's not fair, Sam. I asked you first.”

“If I answer you, will you give me an answer?” Sam questioned. “I think it's only fair.”

“I imagine I mean something quite special to you. After all, you did ask me to marry you,” Julie stated evenly. “Now, I've answered your question. Will you answer mine?”

Sam chuckled. “Your father was right. You are something else when you have a full head of steam. Sometime, you'll have to tell me what happened when your father wanted to shoot that pup. No doubt you didn't cut him any more maneuvering room than you are me.”

Julie smiled ruefully. “My father told me that pup was good for nothing but taking up space and eating. He said he couldn't be expected to pull his own weight, much less that of a sled. I told him I wasn't all that different. I was too young to bring in any wealth to the family, and certainly I wasn't capable of pulling my own weight. I put myself between the pup and my father's leveled gun and told him he might as well do away with both of us, because the weak were worthless when it came to surviving in the North.”

Sam smiled at her determination. “I guess I don't have to ask what happened.”

“My father relented. Told me I was spoiled and,” Julie added with amusement, “he made me take care of the pup.”

“How'd it work out?”

“My father knew best,” Julie said sadly. “The pup got in a fight with some of the other dogs. They killed him.”

“I'm sorry,” Sam replied honestly.

“I learned a good lesson,” Julie said as she shook the image from her mind. “Never once did my father tell me, ‘I told you so.' He put his arms around me and let me cry. Then he shared the words of Proverbs 1:8: ‘My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother.' He told me it counted for daughters as well.”

“Your father is a wise man,” Sam said softly.

“Yes, he is,” Julie agreed, “and that's exactly why I need to talk to him before I can give you any kind of an answer.”

“I see,” Sam answered thoughtfully. “I suppose it wouldn't help if I told you that I've already talked to him about it.”

“What?” Julie's head snapped up.

“I talked to your father before I ever asked you to marry me,” Sam replied. “I wouldn't have dreamed of approaching you with a proposal unless I was certain your father approved.”

“And did he?”

Sam smiled and reached out a hand to push back Julie's hood. “He told me it was up to you.”

“That's it?” Julie questioned as she took a step back to avoid Sam's touch. “He didn't say anything else?”

“Should he have?”

“I don't know. I guess I just wondered if he—”

“If he had an answer for you?” Sam interrupted. “I didn't ask your father to marry me. I only sought his blessing. It's you I want an answer from.”

Julie turned away from Sam and rechecked her sled harness. Part of her wanted to tell Sam no, but no matter how she tried, Julie couldn't form the word. Why couldn't she simply refuse to marry him and let him slip from her life? “I don't have an answer for you, Sam,” she finally said.

“Do you know when you might?”

Julie straightened up slowly, avoiding his eyes.

“Look at me, Julie,” Sam said as he reached out and turned her to face him. “This should be a happy experience for both of us. It should be a wonderful and joyful event for two people who love each other. You do love me, don't you?” It was more a statement than a question.

Julie took a deep breath to steady herself. That was the important question. Did she love Sam?

“I—”

“Say, aren't you Julie Eriksson?” a voice called out from behind Sam. Julie recognized the bulky form of her father's longtime friend, Jonah Emery.

“Hello, Jonah,” Julie said sweetly, grateful for the reprieve.

“I heard you were back in these parts as a nurse. Say, I'll bet your papa is mighty proud.”

“I'll say he is,” Sam joined in.

“Why, Sam Curtiss, I should have known that towering frame belonged to you. Well, I'll let you two get back to your discussion,” Jonah said with a wave. “You be sure and tell your pa hello from me.”

“I will,” Julie promised and watched as Jonah moved down the street to one of the small cafés.

“I'm still waiting for my answer,” Sam said as Julie turned back to face him.

“I can't give you an answer.”

“Then when, Julie?”

She thought for a moment. “I'm going to be gone for a month, maybe more. I'll have an answer for you when I return.”

Sam grinned and pulled Julie into his arms. “Then let me give you a reminder to take on the trail,” he whispered and lowered his lips to kiss her.

Julie stepped back breathlessly, even though the kiss was brief. She looked apprehensively up and down the street to see if anyone had seen Sam kiss her. When she turned back to reprimand Sam for his behavior, he was gone.

Balancing between relief and disappointment, Julie quickly wrapped several scarves around her face and secured her hood. She could only pray that God would provide her an answer to Sam's question.

“Let's go, boys!” she called out and held on tightly as the dogs fairly burst from the start.

From the dark haven of the entryway to a store, Sam watched Julie move down the street and out of sight. It was hard to let her go without demanding that she accept his love and affection, but Sam had made God a promise. “Thy will be done,” Sam whispered in the darkness. “Thy will be done.”

T
roubled by her promise to Sam, Julie forgot about going home. She mushed out of Nome on trails that took her west along the ice-packed Bering Sea. The coastline trails were easy to follow, and they often moved off the banks onto the frozen sea itself. This helped drivers avoid heavily drifted snow and hidden obstacles.

Out on the ice, Julie had new concerns to keep her mind on. The wind and pressure often caused the ice to form what the natives called “spears.” These ice needles jutted upward from the frozen trail and could pierce the padding of a dog's feet. Whenever spears were evident, Julie took time out to put coverings on the paws of each of her dogs. So far, they'd avoided injury.

As the dimly lit skies gave way to sunlight, Julie pushed back her parka hood. She could tell by the dogs' breath that the temperature had risen. A good driver always paid attention to the degree of whiteness that showed in a team's exhaled breath. Little things like that often saved a driver's life, and Julie, ever mindful of her near-death from the blizzard, paid special attention to such details.

The ice and snow stretched for miles, and the glare of reflecting sunlight caused Julie to shelter her eyes by replacing her hood.

The team moved at a nice trot, and Julie felt exhilarated as she made her way down the coastline. The hills and mountains in the distance, however, reminded her of the dangers that came with isolation. One mistake could be her last.

Thinking about mistakes, Julie considered Sam's marriage proposal. “Lord,” she prayed, “I don't know what to do about Sam. He says he loves me, but I don't know if I love him. I suppose I shouldn't be so worried about it—after all, Sam is a Christian.”

The miles passed in a blur as Julie continued, “I don't know what to do! My job as a public health nurse takes me out on the trail for weeks, even months at a time. How can I be a good wife to a man while I'm hundreds of miles away inoculating children and teaching mothers about hygiene? Sam deserves more than a pittance of attention every few weeks. I'm sure a man with his zest for living would expect a great deal more, Father. I know he would, and I'd feel obligated to give it to him and leave my job. Since I can't do that, it must be wrong for me to accept his proposal.”

That conclusion didn't last long. Unsettled feelings in Julie's mind told her that the issue was far from being resolved.

Sam's never suggested I leave my work as a nurse
, she reasoned.
Even when he bids me good-bye, he never causes a scene about my work or says that I ought to be safe at home. Maybe Sam is more sympathetic to the needs of the people up here. Maybe Sam would want me to continue working as a public health nurse, even after we were married
.

“So the answer must be yes,” Julie said aloud, but again the feeling that the issue wasn't settled came to haunt her.

“Do I love him?” she asked.

She thought of the way he smiled and the laughter in his brown eyes. The vision of Sam's muscular shoulders and towering frame came to mind. Julie admitted to herself that she was attracted to Sam as she'd never been to another man.
Attraction isn't love
, she reminded herself.
But is it part of love?

Julie's mittened hands twisted at the sled bar. She couldn't settle on any answers to her many questions.

Please, Lord, I promised him an answer. Please show me whether or not I love him. I must know that before I can answer his proposal because I simply cannot marry a man I do not love
.

The daylight hours passed much too quickly. In the distance, Julie saw the flickering light of a lantern hanging on a pole outside a sod igloo. She sighed in relief, eager to rest after only two short stops on the trail.

The village wouldn't recognize their new public health nurse, but Julie knew she'd be warmly welcomed. She halted the dogs as several Eskimos appeared.

“I'm Nurse Eriksson from Nome,” Julie offered by way of introduction.

“We're glad to have you,” an older man said as he extended his hand. “We have sickness in our village. It is good you have come.”

“If you will lend me a warm place to work,” Julie said as she reached for her gear, “I'll be glad to examine your sick.”

The man nodded and pointed to the sod igloo. “You use my house. I have no wife. I will stay with my brother and his family while you work. Come.”

“Thank you,” Julie said as she followed the man. “What should I call you?”

The man turned and smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “Call me Charlie,” he said and showed Julie inside the shack.

Julie was appalled by what greeted her. The igloo was filthy and very small, leaving her to wonder if these conditions were common in the rest of the village. She noticed the small oilcan stove and turned to Charlie.

“Is there fuel for the stove?”

“Sure,” Charlie replied. “I get you nice fire. Plenty warm in here with big fire.”

“I'll need water, too,” Julie said as she pulled her parka off. It was chilly, but not unbearable, and once she began to clean the room, her body would warm considerably.

“I get you plenty snow, and we melt on big fire. You can have much hot water.”

Charlie seemed so pleased to offer Julie his home that she didn't want to hurt his feelings by rearranging everything. “Would it be all right,” she began, “if I clean this table so that I can examine the patients?”

“Sure, sure,” Charlie said with his broad toothless smile. “You have plenty fire, plenty water, and plenty clean. Sure.”

Charlie disappeared out the door, and Julie could hear him talking excitedly to the villagers. He reappeared and within minutes had a nice fire going in the stove as well as several pans of snow melting on top of it.