4
Ginny and Jack talked in the garden until late afternoon.
“I am Tlingit. My ancestors’ bones were buried in this ground long before the white men came. I went to missionary school when I was ten. I missed my family, but my mother was glad for me. She said it would help me understand how to live alongside the white men. At first, I didn’t want to go, but soon, I liked it. The new language and customs interested me. Most of all, I liked learning about Jesus and what He did for me.”
“I can’t imagine leaving my family to live in a strange place at ten years old.” Ginny chose to ignore his reference to Jesus. Religion had never been a part of her life, she’d had to work hard just to take care of her father and herself. Church on Sundays was for people who had money and didn’t have to work for every scrap of food, and more for shelter.
“I see them now. My parents and cousins live in Eagle. I build boats with my uncle when I visit.”
“My mother died when I was a child. I still miss her. She used to sing softly as she ran her finger along my cheek.” Remembering these things made tears start. On top of this nostalgia, the loss of her father was still an open wound.
“What was she like?”
“Quiet and serene. Not much like Papa. However, he loved her very much. She was so kind and gentle. But she wasn’t very sturdy and life was hard. She worked her fingers to the bone to care for her family, though her resources were not large. And while she worked, she hummed to me. I can still hear her songs in my mind. “
“Are you like her? Serene?” Jack asked.
“No. I’m too adventuresome to resemble my mother. She wouldn’t have taken a risk like this, coming to a wild land.”
“Adventuresome can be good, depending on the preparation of the adventurer.”
Ginny pondered his observation. “I’m prepared for hard work. I supported myself and my dad since I was fourteen. He hurt his back and drank to help the pain.“
“You were a good daughter.”
Though they’d only recently met, it mattered what he thought.
When Jack left, it seemed he took the warmth of the day with him. In a short-sleeve dress, she shivered from the porch as she watched him walk away, straight and proud. He was a proud native, a man of the land.
****
The next morning, Jack arrived with pelts, cured and ready to be sewn into a coat. Ginny ran her hand along the soft fur. He was thoughtful to be so worried about her comfort. She wondered if he was this way with everyone or if he cared particularly about her. She had been independent and cared for herself since her mother had died. It felt nice to be fussed over.
She had heard, with traditional natives, giving furs to a woman was considered a proposal of marriage. Was this what he was doing?
“What is this?”
“Ermine.”
“It’s beautiful. It reminds me of rabbit skin I once touched at a shop in San Francisco, only it’s finer and softer. “
“It’s warm, much warmer than your coat.”
She trembled from the feel of the fur on her fingers. Though she sewed well, she hardly trusted herself with these beautiful pelts. She couldn’t imagine how much they must be worth.
“Is it all right if I carry these upstairs for you? Together they are heavy.”
“Yes, thank you. Do you make sure your parties are so well supplied?”
“I would not be a good guide if I let anyone freeze. I advise them about what to pack.”
She followed him up the stairs.
He glanced at the flowers in her vase. “They are beginning to wilt. I will bring fresh ones.”
“Thank you. I love wildflowers.”
She had never been brought flowers before and was overwhelmed by the attention Jack paid to her. She hoped the furs were a proposal, for she could not deny her attraction to this native man.
His gentle smile told her he was pleased to have guessed correctly about her tastes. “I thought so.You must get flowers from many men.”
“No. I’ve never had much time for romance.”
He grew quiet, seeming to think it over.
Ginny hoped he wouldn’t think she was too busy for him.
He laid the pelts across her bed.
Downstairs, she made coffee and they chatted about his experiences in the wild.
She liked listening to him. His slight native accent charmed her as did the bright expression in his coal black eyes. She was sorry when they had to part company. She had a good time with Jack. He was warm and real. She never had to guess what he was thinking. Perhaps she’d be able to satisfy more of her curiosity about the man. More importantly, she would see him again.