Summer of the Midnight Sun (23 page)

“I thought perhaps I’d have to call you, but then I opened one of the kitchen windows and let the aroma of the bread do the job.”

“It did the job well,” Jayce admitted. “I must say this is a real treat.”

“Come sit here,” she said, pulling out a chair. “I have everything ready.”

Jayce did as he was instructed as Karen brought a bowl of chicken and dumplings to the table. “Adrik was able to get some chickens last week. We’ve been enjoying them ever since, although Christopher believes we should keep them as pets.”

“Sounds like a typical kid,” Jayce said.

Karen turned to retrieve a pot of coffee. “He’s not yet ten, but he thinks he’s twenty. He has picked up a hefty portion of adventurous nature from both Adrik and myself.” She poured Jayce a cup of the steaming liquid, then did likewise for herself.

“I remember being that age. I was just thinking about it, in fact. My father used to take me hunting. I think it taught me a passion for the wilderness. I’ll be sorry when we populate the world so much that there aren’t any more areas of wilderness.”

“That would be sad indeed,” Karen said, taking a seat across from Jayce. “Would you say grace?”

Jayce nodded and offered a simple prayer of thanks. “This smells heavenly. I haven’t had a meal like this in some time.”

Karen brought a plate of freshly sliced bread to the table.

“Here, it’s still warm.”

Jayce took a piece and popped a bite of it in his mouth. The taste was incredible. “Mmmm,” he said as he chewed.

“I seem to remember that your father and mother are both passed on. Is that right?”

Jayce nodded. “Yes. My mother had died right before I came north the first time. My father passed away several years before her. It was hard. My entire family seemed to disintegrate the day my father was buried.”

Karen’s expression was compassionate. “What happened?”

“My siblings were not wise with what my father left behind. They went through the money as if it were a never-ending supply. After they went through what he’d left them, they began to tap into what was endowed to my mother. Before I knew it—long before she’d confide in me as to what had happened—it was necessary to sell her house.”

“How sad.”

“It truly was. My mother and father had once been esteemed in the neighborhood. By the time my mother died, however, her society friends had long since fallen away.”

“Then they weren’t really friends at all,” Karen said quite matter-of-factly.

“True enough, but that only caused it to hurt all the more.”

“So, Jayce . . . will you be with us long?” Karen asked, the tone of her voice adding weight to the seemingly simple question.

Jayce could not help but think of Leah and of Adrik asking him what his plans were for her. Though he had sought her attention, so far Leah had gone out of her way to make sure they had no time alone. He wondered if she was afraid of him—afraid of what he might say. Just as he feared the words he felt compelled to share with Karen.

“I don’t know where to start,” he said softly. His heart was in great turmoil. “Adrik has asked me what my plans are—what my plans for Leah might be. I told him honestly that I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure how she felt anymore, and I wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings I had.”

“And what are those feelings, Jayce?”

He drew a deep breath. “I would . . . that is . . . I . . . well, I care deeply for her. I could now see taking her for a wife—even though I couldn’t see it back then.”

“Do you love her?”

“I think I do.” He shook his head. “No. I know I love her.”

Karen’s smile broadened. “And have you prayed for direction?”

“I have to admit, I pray and then I tend to find myself caught up in other thoughts. I hurt her so much; I know that well. I was shocked to find her still so bitter about the past. I figured she’d long forgotten me. I had seen her as a child and that her feelings were those of a child.”

Karen crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “But now you see it differently?”

“Yes. I realize she knew her heart and mind quite well, even then. I suppose because I knew myself to be so unsettled at that age, I couldn’t believe anyone else would have the necessary maturity in order to make important decisions.”

“This territory is unlike the settled cities of the United States,” Karen said thoughtfully. “There are few second chances here. People grow up fast under the midnight sun.”

“I know that to be true now. I just need to know if second chances ever happen.”

Karen drew a deep breath. “They are rare. But they do happen.”

“Mama!”

Karen’s attention was immediately drawn away. “That would be Christopher. He always outruns his father in getting home.” She got to her feet. “Pray about it, Jayce. Second chances are always possible when God is in the middle of the matter. He is a God of second chances.”

————

Jayce took Karen’s advice to heart. He began to pray fervently for direction where Leah was concerned. At the same time, he watched Leah interact with her family. She seemed so happy to be a part of something bigger than herself. For the first time, he knew without a doubt that he wanted a wife and children. He could only hope that it wasn’t too late to have such a future with Leah Barringer.

“Are you wanting to be alone?” he asked, coming upon Leah as she sat by the creek that ran behind the cabin.

“No. You’re welcome to join me.”

He took a seat on the ground beside her. “I remember how much I enjoyed this place. It holds a lot of pleasant memories.”

“Yes,” she barely breathed the word.

“Leah,” he said, pausing to think of how he wanted to word his next thought, “what do you want . . . what are your plans for the future?”

She looked at him oddly, then returned her gaze to the creek. “I don’t know. I’d like to have a husband and family, but apparently God hasn’t seen that in His plans for me.” She grew quiet, as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why? Can’t you be honest with me?”

“Given our past, Jayce, I don’t know that I can . . . well . . . it isn’t a matter of honesty, but I just don’t feel like discussing it with you.”

“I wish you would.”

A gentle breeze brought with it the scent of rain. Leah shifted to her knees, as if to get up. Instead, she remained for the moment. “I’ve talked to Karen about going to Seattle.”

“Seattle? But why?”

She sighed as though the thought was almost too much to bear. “She has family there. I might be able to stay with them.”

“For what purpose?” Jayce asked. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would want to do such a thing.

“Because I want a husband and children,” she said firmly and looked at him squarely for the first time. “There are more possibilities for me to find such things . . . in Seattle.”

She got to her feet then. “Like I said, I shouldn’t be talking to you about any of this.”

She walked away, heading past the cabin. Jayce thought about going after her, but it almost felt that an unseen hand held him in place.

Seattle? She’d really leave for Seattle?

His thoughts jumbled and twisted in his mind. He thought she loved Alaska. He needed for her to love Alaska, because if he were to marry her . . . The thought trailed off, and Jayce realized he was practically holding his breath.

He had to convince her to stay. He had to prove to her that the things she said to him ten years ago weren’t in vain. He loved her. He knew that now . . . now that he faced losing her again.

Chapter Nineteen

W
hat do you mean you opened my letter?” Jacob asked, looking at the torn envelope. “This wasn’t yours.”

“I know,” Helaina said, sounding somewhat put off. “I thought it was important.”

“Important to mettle in my affairs?” Jacob barely contained his anger. “You above all people should know better.”

“Why do you say that? I was just trying to help, and you make it sound like I’ve committed some sort of crime.”

“You have.” He looked at her hard. “You’re the one who’s such a stickler for the letter of the law. You broke the law. You took something that didn’t belong to you.”

“I didn’t take it,” she protested. “I only opened it. I didn’t try to keep it from you or use it to my own advantage.” She looked away at this point, and Jacob couldn’t help but wonder what she had thought to gain by reading his mail.

“You shouldn’t have done it.”

She turned quickly. Jacob was surprised to find that her face was quite flushed. She seemed genuinely embarrassed, but her actions gave him cause for consideration. He had long wondered how he might convince her that her hard attitude—her unyielding, unmerciful heart—was wrong.

“I suppose you want to hear that I’m sorry,” she finally said.

“It doesn’t matter if you are sorry. A thief is always sorry when he or she is caught.”

“I’m not a thief!” She began to pace, as was often her way when upset. “I saw that the letter was marked urgent and that it was from the captain of the
Homestead
. I thought perhaps in your absence, I could help.”

“It doesn’t matter. You broke the law. My mail was a private matter between me and the captain.”

She exhaled loudly, paused for a moment, then continued to pace. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. It’s not like I tried to hide the letter or keep it from you. You’ve read it for yourself. You have all the information you now need.”

“Yes. That much is true. But since you are a woman of the law, you should face some penalty for breaking the law.”

In exasperation she came at him. “This is complete nonsense.”

“No. No, it’s not. If we went to Nome and I presented my case to the authorities there, told them of how you tampered with my mail, there would be consequences.”

Helaina looked more upset than ever. He wondered for a moment if the authorities in Nome could somehow expose her real purpose for being in Alaska.

Helaina crossed her arms and lifted her jaw ever so slightly.

“Why are you being so hard about this?”

“Why are you hard about the law?”

Jacob could see her expression change. She seemed to finally understand where he was coming from. “This is such a small offense,” she argued. Her tone suggested a sense of defeat.

“So the penalty will probably be fairly small,” he countered. “Unless of course the judge wishes to make an example out of you. They do that, you know. I once saw a situation where a woman stole meat for her child. The boy was dying and without food would surely not last another day. The times were hard and she did wrong.”

“She should have gone to someone and begged if necessary,” Helaina said, seeming to gather her strength. “There is always another way to deal with a difficult situation.”

“The judge apparently thought so too. He sentenced her to three months of labor in the jail. She had no one to watch her son, so he took the boy from her and put him in the orphanage. The child died there a week later. He refused to eat because he wanted his mother.”

Helaina grimaced. “It wasn’t the judge’s fault. The mother did wrong.”

“And so have you,” Jacob said, trying to sound as stern as possible. “I want you to pack your things. I’m taking you to Nome—to the authorities there.”

“What? This is ridiculous!” She came to him and took hold of his arm. “I can’t believe you would do this.”

“But the law is the law, and I am entitled to justice.”

Helaina’s expression contorted. It was almost as if Jacob could see every confused emotion as it played itself in her mind. “Can’t we work this out?” she asked.

She dropped her hold, and Jacob crossed his arms and stared at her with what he hoped was a fierce scowl. “But you deserve to go before the law.”

“I do,” she said with a sigh. “I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have opened your letter, but it . . .” She fell silent and drew a deep breath. “I am without excuse. I did wrong.”

“And you deserve to face your consequences.”

She met Jacob’s gaze. Suddenly he thought she seemed much younger—so frightened and unsure of herself. “I know what I deserve.”

“Then there really isn’t a question of what should be done. Is there?” He didn’t wait for an answer but turned instead to take up his coat. “I can’t trust you.”

He pulled on his jacket and looked at her for a moment. She stood before him, speechless. He could see that she’d reached the end of her understanding for the situation. She didn’t understand the need to seek forgiveness, because in her mind she’d never done anything bad enough to need forgiving.

“Enough of this,” he said, feeling rather sad for her. “I won’t make you go to Nome. I forgive you. And though the law is the law, and I have every right to seek satisfaction against you—I waive that right. Let’s not speak of the letter again.”

He saw her shoulders slump forward in relief, yet still she had no words. “This, Helaina, this is mercy. Remember how it feels . . . because chances are better than not that someone, someday, will need mercy from you.”

————

Helaina stared at the ceiling long after she’d gone to bed. Her earlier encounter with Jacob had left her emotions raw and her heart uncertain. He had terrified her . . . made her realize that he held her life—her secret—in his hands. He could have forced her to Nome, where she would have had to take at least the judge into her confidence. Who knew if that would have allowed her to get off—to go unpunished for her actions.

She rolled over and pulled the pillow to her chest. Hugging it close, she realized that Jacob had helped her to see something startling about herself. It scared her—and made her more uneasy than she’d been in a long, long time.

Unable to sleep, she got to her feet and lit the lamp. “I can’t understand any of this. God demands justice himself. I’ve heard enough sermons to know that.”

She went to where Jacob had left his Bible and picked it up, contemplating the well-worn book for several minutes. With a deep breath, she took it to the table and sat down, then drew the lamp closer and opened it. The page read
Micah
at the top. She had never heard of this person, or perhaps it was a place. Scanning down, however, her gaze rested on the eighth verse of the sixth chapter.