10

Cassidy breathed in the crisp morning air. The Curry Hotel sat in the valley created by the Susitna River between two small ridge lines outside of the Alaska Range. The ridge across the river and to the west was about twenty-five hundred feet, and the ridge behind the hotel was somewhere around three thousand feet. She loved the safe and sheltered way it made her feel, encircled by these crests and hills. As if surrounded by family. It was . . . cozy.

But the thing she didn’t like was the obstruction of the view of the full Alaska Range. If she wanted to see it, she had to climb. Most mornings she had neither the time nor the energy. But today had been different. She’d been wide awake at 4:00 a.m. and couldn’t do a thing about it.

So she donned long pants and boots and headed up the steepest trail on Deadhorse Hill with her satchel and rifle slung over her back. It was the harder way to go, but it was a good deal shorter. And today, she wanted to get there as soon as possible. The summer daylight was nice this early in the morning, but she knew it would end up being a scorcher later, when she’d be working in the kitchen.

The events of the past couple weeks flew through her mind. It wasn’t every day they dedicated a national park and posed for pictures in the paper, or had a visit from the President. On the fifteenth of July, after the President and all his people left, life went on at the Curry. Even though they were all completely worn out, they still had plenty of guests to take care of—the train didn’t stop running just because the President came to Alaska. But oh, what fun they’d had listening to Mr. Bradley read the telegrams from his friends in Nenana.

Apparently, the President had missed the golden spike the first time he swung, and then he decided to just tap it in, since he had to hammer in the iron one that would stay in its place. But even this close to the actual location, the stories had already been changed and rearranged to fit the storyteller. And the heat had been so bad that day that several people passed out. Of course, the people of Nenana heard through the grapevine that many of the visitors had worn extra layers of undergarments since an “Alaska expert” had told them how cold it would be.

Cassidy shook her head. People’s fascination with the Alaska Territory was growing, and so, she assumed, would the stories. She was thankful for the press and the advertising—she really was. Alaska would develop and be known. But she already missed the quietness and solitude of the way it had been.

Before so many new people came to work at the Curry, there’d been much more solitude. Yet she’d never felt lonely. The difference now was . . . what? She’d tried to make friends among the staff, and although everyone treated her well and seemed to like and respect her, there weren’t real friends to be had. Not friends she could discuss anything of depth with. They were all caught up in the shallow frivolities of the day.

Except maybe . . . Allan. They were friends now. She’d noticed that he took time to find her and speak with her at least a few minutes each day. He was very nice . . . but . . .

She shook her head. She liked Allan a bit too much, perhaps. Still found herself looking for him and thinking about him. Was that normal?

Best to get her thoughts off the intriguing Mr. Allan Brennan.

But she did long for a true friend. Someone to share her thoughts and dreams with. Someone to discuss faith and questions she had in her study of God’s Word.

What an odd feeling to be constantly surrounded by people in the hustle and bustle of life and yet feel so very alone.

As she reached the top of the ridge, she made her way to her favorite rock. She plopped down and put the rifle beside her. She hugged the satchel close, not bothering to take it from her shoulder, and looked out at the mountains she knew so well. What would the future hold for her? Now that the railroad was done, the national park was in place, and people were coming. Even though the Curry was lavish and beautiful with amazing amenities, the rest of Alaska was still harsh and wild. It’s not like she’d have the chance to meet a lot of men her age. At least not men who would meet her criteria. She wanted a good man like her father. A God-fearing man who paid more than lip service to his faith. Sometimes it seemed like those men didn’t exist—that her father was the last of them. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wondered about the plans God had for her. Was it just to be a cook at the Curry Hotel?

Or would she get to have a family of her own one day?

Cassidy laughed out loud. That wasn’t exactly modern-girl thinking. Most women her age were caught up in rights for women, since they could now vote, keeping up with the men, changing their hairstyles and their clothes to rebel against the labels of the fragile female. And heavens, the new young maids were always talking about liquor, cigarettes, and things between men and women they shouldn’t know about.

Getting a job at the Curry had been educational to say the least. Her sheltered little world quickly changed as everyone sought to educate her in the times. But after the shock wore off, she realized these things had been happening since the beginning of time. She was perfectly fine with keeping her dress hems at a modest length and didn’t need to learn all the new lingo of the day. Nor did she care to try liquor or cigarettes, much less even speak of girls who wanted to be known as flappers.

So where did she fit? There weren’t any cities around. And she certainly couldn’t leave Alaska or her father to travel to the overcrowded and modern cities of the States—this was her home.

Pulling her Bible out of the satchel, Cassidy opened it to the book of Daniel. She’d been studying it with her dad for many months now—trying to decipher all the difficult passages in the later chapters. But her favorites were still the stories in the first six chapters.

Starting at the beginning, she read through chapter three without pause. As she looked up to the sky, she wondered if she’d be strong enough to make the same choices as Daniel and his friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Would she stand firm should the test arise?

A rustling sound from somewhere behind her made Cassidy reach for her rifle.

“Cassidy? Hello?”

The male voice jolted her from her spot. No one had ever disturbed her up here.

Thomas’s head came over the ridge and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thomas, I’m so glad it’s you.” She set the rifle back at her side.

He smiled at her and leaned over to catch his breath. “That’s a hike up here. How often do you do it?”

“Now, you’re not going to give my secret away, are you?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Nah, I just saw you climbing up here when I was down at the creek, so I thought I’d follow you.” He stood up straight. “Make sure you’re all right and all.”

She worked to keep the smile to herself. “I’m perfectly fine. Thank you.”

“Oh, good.” He sat on the grass. “Whatcha reading?”

“The Bible.”

“Oh.”

“Have you read the Bible?”

“Sure, Miss Cassidy. The orphanage was run by missionaries and we had to read the Bible. If you didn’t read it, the preacher would smack you over the head with it. He swore he’d get God’s Word into us one way or the other.” He smiled at his joke.

She couldn’t help it. The picture his words conjured up in her mind made her laugh. She struggled to gain her composure. “That’s not very nice. I’m so sorry that man hit you with the Good Book.”

“Well, it packed a wallop to be sure, and I guess it motivated us to read our assigned verses.” Thomas smiled. “Hey, at least I got you to laugh.”

“That you did, Thomas.” She shook her head and opened her Bible back up to Daniel. “Did you have a favorite book in the Bible?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I guess I liked the New Testament better than the Old. The Old Testament made God sound mean and overbearing. Like the preacher.”

“Not all of the Old Testament is that way.” Cassidy scooted over a bit and patted the rock. “Why don’t you join me and I’ll tell you what I’ve been reading. It’s in the Old Testament and it’s really quite amazing.”

“Sure, why not?” He jumped up and made a beeline for the place beside her.

“I’ve been reading in the book of Daniel. Do you remember any of the stories about him?”

“He was the one in the lion’s den, right?” When Cassidy nodded, Thomas took on a look of pride. “I guess that’s all I know about him.”

“Well, there’s so much more. And by the time we get to the story of the lions’ den, Daniel was an old man. But he was a very young man when the book begins. A little younger than you, in fact.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And he was very handsome and smart. It even says, ‘well favoured, and skillful in all wisdom,’ but the problem was he was taken from his family—kidnapped—to a foreign land in order to serve a pagan king who didn’t believe in the God of all creation.” Cassidy realized maybe she needed to ask a really important question. “Do you believe in God, Thomas?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you believe in Jesus?”

“Why, sure, He’s God’s son. He died on the cross for us. And that’s why we have Easter.”

“That’s right.” At least he had some basics. “Well, here he is—Daniel with three of his friends—all taken from their homes and forced to live in this foreign land. You see, they were taken because they were ‘the best,’ and the king wanted to collect them, kind of like trophies. Good-looking, wise young men. Anyway, in this land, they were to be trained for three years and would eat and drink the king’s meat and wine. This wasn’t slave food—this was the good stuff. But guess what Daniel did?”

“What?”

“It says that he chose not to ‘defile himself’ with the king’s food—he wouldn’t take it! This made the man in charge of them upset because it was his job to make these good-looking young men look even better and get even smarter. So Daniel asked the man—his name was Melzar—to allow them only to eat pulse and water for ten days and then to compare them to the rest so that he could prove to him they weren’t going to starve or look worse. But they didn’t want to disobey God.”

“What is pulse?”

“Seeds and vegetables.”

“That’s not much to keep them going, is it?”

Cassidy thought about that for a moment. “I guess I never really thought about it that way, but you’re right. Melzar agreed to do as Daniel asked and when the ten days were up, guess what happened?”

Thomas was intently focused on the story. “What?”

“Verse fifteen says, ‘And at the end of ten days their countenances appeared fairer and fatter in flesh than all the children which did eat the portion of the king’s meat.’ So Daniel and his three friends looked better than all the others, and then verse twenty tells us that at the end of the three years of their training and supposed great fattening up from the king’s good food, ‘the king found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers that were in all his realm.’ So they were smarter and wiser too, and they were only probably around eighteen or nineteen years old at this point.”

“Huh.” Thomas frowned. “How’d they do it?”

“They didn’t do it. God did. And they simply obeyed.”

“You like that story?” His brow crinkled even more.

“I do.”

“Why?”

That was a question she’d never been asked. “Well, I guess because it makes me want to be like Daniel.”

“You want to be kidnapped and taken away?”

“No, but it makes me wonder how I would fare if something like that happened to me. My life has been easy, full of love and fun. I’ve never had any hard challenges come my way, and I want to be willing to stand firm when they do.” Saying it out loud made her thoughts more real. Her life had been just about perfect. And definitely easy. Here, she’d been wallowing in thoughts of loneliness and longing for things the Good Lord hadn’t blessed her with yet. It was shameful how selfish she’d been.

“Is that why you’re so positive all the time?”

Another question that nudged her to think. Was it? Was it easy to be positive and encouraging and happy when things were good because that’s pretty much all she’d known? “I don’t really know, Thomas. I like to be an encourager, yes, but I want to be more than that.”

“I think you’re pretty perfect just the way you are, Cassidy.”

“Oh, but I’m not.” The more she examined her heart, the more she wanted to learn. A sudden and new craving for the Word overwhelmed her. “Thank you, Thomas. For helping me to see so clearly today.”

“I didn’t do nothing.” A blush crept up his cheeks.

“Yes, you did.” Cassidy stood up and straightened her shoulders. “No matter what, I want to dare to be a Daniel. And I don’t think I’ve been doing a very good job. But that’s going to change.”

The two days since Thomas had talked to Cassidy passed way too fast. And there hadn’t been much chance to speak with her since. But he’d thought about her. A lot.

And what she’d said. About Daniel. Thomas couldn’t get those thoughts out of his mind. He had a lot of questions. More than anything, he longed to make something of himself. Not always be labeled as an orphan. But how?

Could Cassidy’s Bible have more answers in it? He never knew there was a story of a boy his age doing anything significant. Now he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to be a man. And an honorable one. One people respected. And one who didn’t drop things or stumble over things. Daniel had been well respected by the king himself when he was only eighteen. Could Thomas learn that much in a year?

As he carried another tub of scraps out to the feed shed, Thomas spotted Mr. Ivanoff. He wanted to be like Cassidy’s father. The older man knew so much about everything and loved to teach other people.

And boy was he patient. Every day Thomas had worked for him, Mr. Ivanoff never lost his patience—even when Thomas messed up. Unlike Mrs. Johnson, who made him feel like he was in the army every time she barked her commands or scolded him for another mistake.

He watched Mr. Ivanoff walk down to the roundhouse where they did maintenance on the railroad engines. Maybe he could catch him later today and ask him for help.

If anyone could teach him about how to be a man, it’d be John Ivanoff. And maybe he could teach him more about the Bible too.

Allan stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Sleep was slow in coming and unfortunately that gave him more than enough time to think. He thought about his trip to Alaska and all that he’d hoped to accomplish and realized that very little of it had been done.

He’d found John and had been able to ask about his father’s death, but the answers had been less than helpful. He’d found his own love of Alaska and undeniable feelings for one of her daughters. Cassidy Ivanoff was unlike the women he’d known in Seattle. Even his sisters were far more concerned about their appearance or the quality of their furnishings. Many of the women who moved in his family’s social circles didn’t even know how to cook, much less enjoy it as much as he’d heard Cassidy did.

But always there was a barrier between them.

“I can’t very well pursue her unless I resolve my anger with her father and Dad’s death,” he whispered to himself.

But Allan wasn’t even sure that anger still existed. For so long he’d been mad at John and what had happened. Even worse, Allan had been mad at God. He still was. God had given him the very best of fathers and then, like a greedy child—had taken him back. No warning. No concern for the people who were left with the loss. God had even chosen the very poorest of timing. Allan hadn’t been able to be there to comfort his mother when she learned of her husband’s death.

“It wasn’t fair.” He shook his head. “You aren’t fair. You demand too much.”

It was the first time he’d talked to God in a very long time, and for a moment, despite his mix of emotions, Allan felt a connection that had long been absent. It was as he’d felt when he and his father had prayed together. The feeling passed much too quickly, however, and the anger and disappointment returned. Would he ever be able to put this behind him? Would he never find peace again?