Brides of Alaska (5 page)

She grimaced. “I don't know how you can ask that. I'm totally ashamed of the way I acted last night.”

“You mean when August beat you at chess?” Sam teased. Julie couldn't hold back her smile. “That's better,” Sam added.

“What is?” Julie asked innocently.

“The smile. I love it when you smile,” Sam said softly.

Julie shook her head. “I don't understand you, and I don't know how to deal with you,” she said honestly.

“Go on,” Sam urged.

“Go on?” Julie questioned as she finally looked Sam in the eye. “What do you expect me to say?”

“I expect you to face up to your feelings. You don't have any reason to feel embarrassment. Especially not on account of our kiss.”

Julie put her face in her hands and moaned. “I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to you about it. I get kissed for the first time …”

“The first time, eh?” Sam questioned with a teasing grin. “So I was the first man to kiss you. I think I like that.”

Julie groaned. “Let's just forget it. Please!”

“I don't intend to forget it,” Sam said firmly.

“Don't intend to forget what?” August asked as he bounded into the room.

Julie fell back against the couch and rolled her eyes. Sam only laughed. “I don't intend to forget that your sister saved my life. I'd like to do something nice for her. Something special.”

“You've already done plenty,” Julie said as she got to her feet.

Knowing that August couldn't see him, Sam made a face, nearly causing Julie to laugh. “I think I'll see if Pa needs any help,” she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Breakfast passed quickly with the men sharing all the news they could think of. Julie remained silent until the subject of the dogs came up.

“I'll need all the help I can get with the dogs this morning,” Vern said as he finished a huge bowl of oatmeal. “That storm's wreaking havoc with everything, and I've got to get treatment to the sick dogs and food to all of them.”

“I'll be happy to help,” Sam said, pushing his chair back from the table.

“Me, too,” Julie agreed. “In fact, why don't I take care of the sick ones. That's my field of interest.”

“That sounds great,” Vern said and smacked his hands down on the table. He'd made that gesture often throughout Julie's childhood, and it always signaled that he was ready for action.

Julie hastily finished her oatmeal and got to her feet. “I'll be ready as soon as I get my coat and mukluks.”

“Then the rest of us better get with it, or Julie will have everything done before we get out there,” August added.

“Sounds good,” Sam said and reached over for his own mukluks.

By the time Julie came back into the kitchen, the men were ready to go. Securing her parka, Julie followed her father and brother, with Sam bringing up the rear. When Vern opened the back door, a gusty wind sent them all back a step, putting Julie squarely into Sam's arms. Despite Julie's push to break away, Sam's grip remained firm. Deciding not to take the action personally, Julie continued to follow her brother into the snow.

“You come with me, Julie. I'll show you what I need done,” Vern yelled above the wind. Julie nodded and felt Sam release her as she moved away to go with her father. She watched as Sam went with August to where the dogs were kept behind the house.

Vern ushered Julie into the outbuilding. While it wasn't warm, the building provided welcome relief from the blowing snow.

“Here,” Vern said as he pulled Julie to the medicine cabinet. “I still keep all my concoctions and tonics in here. We're blessed to have only five dogs with any health problems. One is Sam's lead dog, Kodiak. He's getting a little extra care after the soaking he got in the Nome River. Other than that, he'll be fine and doesn't really need anything.”

“Do you want me to feed him?” Julie asked.

“Yes,” her father replied. “I've got a drum of dried fish over in the corner and a barrel of my own special blend for the sick dogs.”

“What's wrong with the others?” Julie questioned as she pushed back her parka hood.

“Buster tangled with a trap. He's in the pen along the south wall. I had to put twenty-two stitches in his hind leg. That ought to be easy for you to take care of. The rest have a bowel infection. I have a list on the table of what I've been giving them and how much food they're getting.”

“Sounds simple enough. I'll start with Buster.”

“If you're all right with all of this, I'll go help the guys with the regular feeding and watering,” Vern replied and opened the door. “It's mighty bad out there. If you come looking for us or want to help, be sure to tie a rope to the post outside and then to yourself.”

“I will,” Julie promised and turned to examine Buster as her father closed the door behind him.

Julie worked for nearly an hour with the sick dogs. She offered each one a tender hand and a soft, soothing voice. The dogs whined and licked at Julie's hands as she stroked their fur.

“You're a good bunch of dogs,” Julie said as she dished out their food into individual tins. The dogs cocked their heads first to one side and then the other, as if trying to understand what she was saying.

After giving each dog his ration of food and water, Julie pulled her hood up and dug her mittens out of her pocket. Kodiak yipped and whined for extra attention, and Julie couldn't resist the look on his black-and-white face.

Putting her mittens on the hard dirt floor, she knelt beside the happy dog. “You're just like your master,” she said as she rubbed the dog rigorously. “What is it with you two?” Kodiak licked her hand and then, without warning, gave Julie a hearty lick across the lips.

“You
are
just like him!” Julie exclaimed and got to her feet. She wiped her face with the back of her parka sleeve, picked up her mittens, and went in search of her father.

The wind refused to subside. Standing beside the sick dog building, Julie couldn't see the house, which stood less than twenty feet away. The snow mixed with pelting ice, and Julie winced as it stung her unprotected face.

Forgetting her father's warning about tying herself down, Julie felt her way along the building, knowing that the dogs were just to the north. She strained to listen for any sound of conversation or noise as the men worked with the dogs, but the howling wind blended every sound into one massive roar.

Julie felt her eyelids grow heavy with ice as she moved past the edge of the building and, with outstretched hands, walked in the direction of the dogs.

Taking ten gingerly placed steps, Julie again squinted her eyes against the ice and snow in order to get her bearings. She couldn't see anything but snow. She called out to her father and brother, but the wind drowned out her voice. Fear gripped her heart, and Julie scolded herself for being so helpless. Bolstering her courage, Julie pressed forward. The dogs had to be just within reach.

After struggling against the storm's pressing power for more than twenty minutes, Julie admitted to herself that she was lost. Angry with herself for not heeding her father's instructions, Julie began to pray.

“Lord, I know I've done the wrong thing in not listening to my father. Please forgive me and help me find my way out of this storm.” Just then Julie thought she heard the yip of a dog and moved rapidly in the direction of the sound.

She pushed back her parka in order to better hear and instantly regretted the action. Pulling the hood back into place, Julie wandered aimlessly, searching for any kind of landmark that would distinguish her whereabouts.

Cold seeped into her bones, bringing excruciating pain to her legs. Julie regretted having not dressed more appropriately for the outdoors. She'd remembered her mukluks and parka, of course, but she hadn't thought to bring along her scarves or to wear sealskin pants. Now she was paying the price.

Desperation caused an aching lump to form in her throat, but Julie knew crying would only ensure worse problems. A heavy gust of wind took her by surprise, knocking her into a snowbank. Sitting in the snow, Julie suddenly realized how tired she was. Her mind felt muddled from the strain.

“If I rest for a minute,” Julie said, rubbing her mittens against her frozen face, “then I'll feel clearer-headed and be able to go on.” Something inside her warned Julie that this wasn't wise, but she couldn't fight the need to rest.

Looking up, Julie realized she was snow-blind. There was nothing to indicate that civilization was anywhere nearby. When she moved to shift her weight, Julie heard a crunching sound come from within her parka. Ice had formed on her back and chest from the sweat of her search.

An alarm went off in her mind. That crunching sound meant that she was freezing to death. “Yes,” she thought aloud as she got to her feet. “This is the way you freeze. You have to keep moving, Julie. You can't rest, or you won't wake up! Oh God, send someone to find me. Please, God, rescue me before I die.”

Stumbling in her blindness and pain, Julie fell against the trunk of a tree. She leaned against it for a moment, licked her lips, and forced her mind to focus on moving. “I don't want to die,” she whispered over and over. “I want to live.”

Julie wrapped her arms around the trunk and sank into the wet snow.
It isn't at all unpleasant
, she thought.
If a body has to die, freezing to death is at least a simple way to go
. She felt sleep come upon her; they called it “the white death.”
Funny
, she thought,
they also call tuberculosis white death because of the thick, white substance that patients cough up from their lungs
. Why had she thought of that? It was strange that something so insignificant to her life as TB should come to her mind now. She'd never need to worry about such diseases again. Not now that she was nearly dead.

“Good boy, Kodiak. You found her. Julie! Julie, wake up.” Sam's face floated only inches above hers. “Julie, stand up. Walk with me.” Sam was pulling her to her feet.

Julie tried to concentrate on his words as Kodiak whined at her knee. She even attempted to give him a smile. “I'm glad you found me,” Julie whispered. She tried to walk, but stumbled and fell against Sam.

Sam easily lifted Julie into his arms and pulled his way back to safety on the rope he'd secured around his waist. Was he too late? There was no way to tell how long she'd been sitting in the snow. Sam gritted his teeth and prayed that she would live.
She has to live
, Sam thought as he moved quickly to the house.

J
ulie heard the men rushing around her. She felt her father pulling off her parka, while Sam and August worked to unlace her mukluks. She was dazed and groggy from the cold, and only the pain in her feet reminded her that she'd come terribly close to freezing.

“We've got to get her warmed up,” Sam said as he rubbed Julie's feet.