May 1917, Goose Chase, Alaska
It’s only six months. After all, the Israelites wandered around on a detour that lasted forty years before the Lord let them settle down. With all the trouble I’ve been to Him, I should be glad He didn’t decide to give me twice the sentence He gave His chosen people.”
Dr. Fiona Rafferty continued to mutter under her breath as she guided her motorcar off the boat’s wooden ramp and gently around the confusion of stevedores, passengers, and crates, then stopped to consult her notes. Her last glimpse of Goose Chase had been from the deck of a southbound trawler some eighteen years ago, so she’d been careful to include Ian’s last letter among her important papers.
The home that she had leased for six months on Ian’s recommendation—the one shown on a detailed map she’d tucked into her notebook—was indeed on Third Street, three blocks from the office where she was to report one week from today.
Despite her many misgivings, how wonderful it would be to live near family once again. Some years back, Ian and Meredith had inexplicably moved their growing family to Goose Chase, where Ian went to work for the White Pass and Yukon Railroad. Meredith wrote a long letter attributing their move to better schools and the benefits of being a part of a church community for the first time since she left Texas. Fiona was left to guess whether or not Tucker made the move along with his twin.
“No matter,” she whispered. “I’m a grown woman. If I see him—or his wife—it will be fine. We will probably smile, give one another a how-do-you-do, and go our separate ways.”
But her words failed to ring true. Knowledge of what she would do would have to wait until the actual moment. In the meantime, she had far too much to consider.
A chill wind ruffled her newly shortened hair and slid inside her collar, making her shiver. While Da had eventually adjusted to his only daughter’s decision to become a doctor, her late father probably would have been appalled that she’d lopped off two-thirds of the length of her unruly locks the day after Easter.
Funny how the things she saw as foolish had been so important to Da. Still, the dear man had loved her and the Lord to the very end, only registering the mildest of complaints when she pressed the point of her independence too close to home.
Fiona ran her hand through the abbreviated curls, then set her driving hat atop her head. No matter what Da might have thought, a hairstyle that neither impeded her work nor called undue attention to her womanhood held great merit. At the advanced age of thirty-seven, she’d long since given up the foolishness and frippery of girlhood for a more conservative mode of dress and deportment.
To that end, she would soon have to adjust her wardrobe to Alaska’s climate, and fortunately, according to Meredith, a ladies’ dress shop stood just around the corner from the office. While Fiona’s blue, lightweight wool ensemble was the height of fashion in Seattle, it would soon prove to be the height of foolishness in Goose Chase.
That much about Alaska she did remember—not from experience but from Ian and Braden’s tales and from Meredith’s letters. When the winter winds blew across the icy terrain, she would be wishing for warmer days—and warmer clothes.
Of all the places she thought God would send her to practice medicine, Alaska was not among them. It was the last place she had expected. Yet God clearly had sent her here, what with the way all the minute details of her move seemed to be orchestrated by what could only be termed a divine hand.
“It’s only six months,” she reminded herself.
Even with the long-ago promise made to Doc Killbone, she fully believed another doctor would join the old man’s practice well before he needed her to move in. Ian’s theory was that Doc felt personally responsible for bringing Fiona back to Alaska. Braden, on the other hand, joked that the old man was biding his time until Fiona honed her skills on the unfortunate folks of Seattle.
She smiled at the Lord’s unique way of nudging her back to the one place she hadn’t quite made her peace with leaving. Fiona shrugged off the thought. “Let it go, old girl.”
It was hard to think of either her brothers or Tucker without remembering the idyllic spot where he and the Rafferty men had mined the earth for gold and grown produce twice the size of Oregon’s best. But then, it was also hard to think of the man she’d almost given up her dreams for married to another.
Many years had passed, and no doubt Tucker Smith was a happily married fellow who gave no thought to the foolish girl whose heart he’d broken so many years ago. She’d had plenty of opportunities to ask of his welfare or to hear details of his life, but thankfully Meredith had respected her request not to speak of Tucker except in generalities.
Then there were the letters, each destroyed unopened. She hadn’t needed to read his apology or suffer his pity. More important, she certainly did not need to be told that their separation was for the best or that his new life was ever so wonderful.
No, best to just let it go. Or rather, to let Tucker Smith go.
And to think she’d actually thought of ignoring her calling and instead live in the tiny wilderness cabin where Tucker probably still resided. What a fool she’d been. She shook her head as if to dislodge the memory.
Fiona stuffed her notepad back into her bag and squared her shoulders. “It’s all for the best, isn’t it, Lord? If I’d been fool enough to marry the man, I’d never have gone to medical school.”
That settled, Fiona adjusted her hat and placed her gloved fingers on the steering wheel. Despite all her confusion and misgivings over her hasty exit from Alaska some eighteen years ago, she was back, and she’d come to stay—at least for six months.
To celebrate her newfound resolve, Fiona picked up her speed. The sooner she found her home on Third Street, the sooner her new life, albeit a temporary one, would begin.
In keeping with safe driving procedures, Fiona drove right down the center of Broadway, veering only slightly to the right or left to dodge the plentiful and disgusting road apples that were a natural hazard of last century’s horse-drawn carriages.
Although she avoided those hazards as she motored along, she couldn’t miss their scent. “All the more reason to replace such an outdated conveyance with an automobile,” she said as she wrinkled her nose. “For transportation there is no finer—”
An impediment of the human variety came charging into her path, and she turned hard to the right just in time to nearly graze him. She might have stopped and given the oaf a lecture in proper pedestrian deportment had the fellow not raised his fist and, in a loud voice, called into question her driving skills.
Rather than waste words on the ruffian, she pushed the Ford to its limit and left him standing in her wake. Like as not, this would be the last she’d see of him anyway. Men of that ilk generally did not frequent places where decent folk were seen.
Tucker chewed on the dust in his mouth and pondered his near miss with eternity. While he loved Jesus with everything in him, he’d never thought when he sipped his first cup of coffee this morning that he might be headed for heaven this afternoon. Besides, he’d always expected the Lord would call him home during one of his fits of apoplexy over Lizzie Grace’s latest stunt.
Or as she preferred to be called: Grace.
He set his hands on his hips and stared down the back end of the offending automobile. Of all the nerve.
The woman at the wheel hadn’t even stopped. And why in the world was she driving down the middle of the road? Even a tried-and-true horseman like himself knew to veer to the right or the left depending on which direction he traveled.
He gave the contraption one last look, then swiped at the road dust with his hat and set it back atop his head. In all his born days, he’d never seen a horseless carriage with a driver that dangerous. Back in Texas, he’d ridden bulls that followed a straighter path.
“Goes to show you the horse can never be replaced, especially not by one of those death traps.” Tucker watched the motorcar head left onto Third Street then disappear. “Her husband ought to be shot for allowing such a menace out of the house.”
“Well now, that’s a fine way for a man to talk.”
Tucker turned at the sound of Meredith’s voice. “Did you see what she did? Why, the woman practically aimed at me.”
“Aimed at you?” Meredith affected that I-don’t-believe-you look he knew so well. “From what I saw, you were standing in the middle of the street.”
“I wasn’t standing; I was walking. And for your information, that contraption was driving in the middle of the street. What person in his—or should I say her—right mind would drive down the middle of the road?”
Meredith turned up her pretty nose and shook her head. “The sort of person,” she said in a voice that held far too much amusement to be taken seriously, “who is looking to avoid a collision with animals or persons who might be too near the edge of the sidewalk.”
“That’s exactly the type of answer I would expect from someone with no driving skills.” Tucker stepped aside to let a horse and buggy pass and then regarded his sister through narrowed eyes. “I can see now why Ian refuses to allow you to learn.”
To Tucker’s horror, his twin’s eyes welled with quick tears, and she hurried away. He stood transfixed. “I’ve done it well and good this time.”
Mrs. Simpson, wife of the mayor, gave him a look that confirmed his statement as she swept past. “Seems to me a man ought to stay to the sidewalk and hold his tongue unless he’s got something nice to say.”
“What? Well, for the love of—” Tucker opened his mouth but couldn’t get it to cooperate. Finally, he shrugged and ducked his head.
He caught up with his sister on the sidewalk outside Doc Killbone’s office. “Come on, Merry. You know I didn’t mean it.”
“I know a man often says things he means only to discover he shouldn’t have.”
She shrugged, and Tucker’s heart sank. The only thing worse than arguing with Meredith was to watch her give in so easily.
“No, here’s the truth. I’m a first-class fool.” Tucker gathered his sister into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Forgive me, please.”
Meredith stepped out of his embrace, her eyes glistening. “No, you’re right. I’m not fit to drive an automobile.”
Tucker crossed his arms over his chest. “Who in the world would want to? One of these days, somebody’s going to pass a law against them. I just know it.” He caught the beginnings of a smile on his sister’s face. “Now that’s better. So, tell me. What brings you to town today?”
A strange look came over her, quickly followed by a shrug. “I’m meeting an old friend,” she said.
For the first time, Tucker noticed the basket she carried. “What’s this?” he asked as he lifted the cloth to spy its contents. “Preserves and fresh-baked bread? And is that a pie? Maybe I’ll come along with you to meet that old friend.” He took a step back. “Say, what old friend are you talking about? Surely not someone from Texas.”
She shook her head. The slightest smile touched her lips then quickly disappeared.
“Merry, you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
His twin gave Tucker a direct look then giggled. “If you want to know, you’ll just have to follow me.”
“Maybe I will,” he said as he fell into step beside her. “Say, what’s this friend’s name?” When Meredith ignored the question, Tucker tried again. “At least tell me whether this is a he or a she.”
Meredith stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and set the basket beside her. Hands on her hips, she stood up on tiptoe to come slightly closer to looking him in the eye.
“Tucker Smith, do you honestly think I would be taking a welcome basket to a he? What kind of woman do you think I am? Why, I’ve never even looked at another man since Ian Rafferty came along.”
Tucker hung his head. This was not a discussion he would ever win. Time for him to make a good retreat.
As she watched her brother head back up the street, Meredith knew her irritation at him was due more to her conversation with her husband that morning than with anything Tucker might have said. Still, she couldn’t tell him that, nor could she tell him of Fiona’s return to Goose Chase.
She’d tried many times over the past month, to no avail. The promise Fiona held her to way back in 1899 still tied Meredith to a time that she hated to be a part of. In her haste to see her brother happy, she’d done the one thing that assured he never would find what he sought.
Now, with her prayers answered and Fiona back in Goose Chase, she had no idea how to tell the two of them they were meant to be together. It was silly, this need to make up for the horrible wrong she’d done to them by her letter to Elizabeth all those years ago.
Some days she thought she’d been used of the devil by sending that letter. Then she watched Tucker’s daughter, Lizzie Grace, and knew the girl was meant to be in Tucker’s world.
Of course, the why and how of that was also a discussion she and Tucker had never had. There was no need. Elizabeth Grace Meredith Smith was as much a part of Meredith’s family as were her own children.
The thought of her children brought Meredith to her eldest, Douglas, and the tiff his newest cause had brought on between her and Ian. In nearly twenty years of marriage, she’d only fought with her husband on a handful of occasions, none of which held enough significance for her to be able to remember the details the next day.
This time, however, was different. The son she loved wanted to go to war to make the world safe. What parent would not be proud of a young man willing to give up his life for a cause greater than his own?
Meredith dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and hurried up the block to where the motorcar sat. What parent would willingly give up a son? As soon as the thought occurred, she sighed. If her heavenly Father could willingly send His Son, she had no excuse.
Still, did Douglas have to leave Alaska to serve his country? The registration for the draft next month only involved men twenty-one years old and older. Douglas was just eighteen. Why couldn’t he wait until he was older? Perhaps there was another way.
Without Ian to support her, she had considered going to Tucker for help—until he proved just how exasperating he could be on occasion. Then there was the situation with Fiona’s return.
“Is this person a man or a woman, indeed?”
Then, right there on the sidewalk in front of 233 Third Street, the Lord delivered the most brilliant plan to her. At least she hoped it was the Lord, because she would definitely need His help to pull it off.
Meredith smiled. She’d also need Lizzie Grace, but the dear girl would never have to know.