DAYS AFTER BILL BARRINGER LEFT, Jacob disappeared. Karen frantically searched for the boy, seeking out the various places she’d heard him mention and talking to those who knew him. With every denial of the boy’s whereabouts, Karen feared that he’d gone north to follow his father. It seemed to be the logical thing for the troubled youth to do.
Oh, God, she prayed as she made her way to the seedier part of town, protect and keep him. He’s just a child—a lost and lonely child. He’s suffered so much already, please keep him from harm. Help him to find his hope in you.
She continued praying, finding strength in the words she shared with her heavenly Father. There was comfort for her in the prayer as well. Karen had long realized the power of prayer and the way it allowed her to feel a connection to heaven and all that God offered. She thought of her father’s deep love of God, his desire to bring the lost souls to the same hope he’d found. Wilmont Pierce didn’t care where that desire took him. He didn’t mind the cost or the hardship. He simply loved God, and he loved the people God had created.
Karen wanted to love people in the same way, but where her father collectively embraced entire villages, Karen had always felt directed to focus on one or two people at a time. Perhaps it was just a different method of service, she thought, but perhaps it was a self-imposed limitation. She’d always felt divided and too far spread when she’d faced the situation of teaching to a group. Even when she’d worked with the children at church, Karen had found herself wondering if her time was well spent.
Maybe it’s an issue of pride, she reasoned. With one or two people I can easily see the results of my heartfelt work. With a crowd, I’m less certain. There are more possibilities for distraction. Yes, she decided, it was pride. Pride kept her closed off from the rest of the world and limited her ability to offer herself freely to God.
Karen peered inside one tent saloon after another as she continued her search but found nothing but darkness. The morning hours brought hangovers and misery from nights spent in revelry and drinking. It seemed a shame that such beauty as was found in Dyea could be so marred by such sinful natures. She could only pray that Jacob hadn’t fallen victim to such matters.
‘‘Where can he be, Lord?’’ she whispered softly. She strained her eyes in the direction of the harbor. ‘‘He’s just a boy.’’
Picking her way across the rutted frozen mud, Karen felt her efforts were rather futile. Perhaps Jacob would come back when he was good and ready. But then again, perhaps he would never come back. What was Karen to do or say if Jacob never returned? How could she explain it to his father?
Anger coursed throughout her body. Explain? To Bill Barringer? The man had deserted his children, left them to the care of a virtual stranger, and allowed gold fever to drive him away from his true responsibilities. Why, it would serve him right if she simply packed Jacob and Leah up and headed back to Seattle. Perhaps once she found her father she’d do exactly that.
But even as she considered the possibility, Karen knew she couldn’t act on her anger. God had a purpose and plan for her life, and even if she was uncertain of the direction at this point, she couldn’t make poor choices simply because others had taken that route.
Giving up for the time, Karen made her way back to the Colton Trading Post. She felt overcome with grief and sniffed back tears. What would become of the boy? If she couldn’t find him and talk sense into him, what harm might he make for himself?
In a spirit of defeat, Karen paused at the shop door. She peered up Main Street and then down as if perhaps she’d overlooked something. The town was surprisingly peaceful. Perhaps the bitter cold had caused folks to give up the struggle for gold. Or maybe the fact that Christmas was only a few days away had given the townspeople something else to focus on.
‘‘Kind of cold to be out here just gawking around, isn’t it?’’
Karen was startled by the appearance of Adrik Ivankov. She’d forgotten what a big man he was. Tall and broad at the shoulders, he looked even more massive in his heavy winter coat and fur cap.
‘‘I was looking for someone,’’ Karen replied, trying not to sound shaken. ‘‘Seems to be my lot in life.’’
‘‘Just so long as you aren’t planning on shooting anybody,’’ he said, the twinkle in his eye revealing that he knew about her previous exploits.
‘‘I didn’t have it planned today,’’ she replied with a smile. ‘‘Maybe I can work it in tomorrow.’’
He laughed with a deep, rich tone that actually seemed to give off warmth. ‘‘Given your nature, it wouldn’t surprise me.’’ He smiled and his long, ice-crusted mustache raised up at the corners.
His amusement unnerved her momentarily. ‘‘Have you had word from my father?’’ she questioned.
‘‘No, but I wouldn’t give it too much thought,’’ Adrik replied. ‘‘Your pa isn’t used to having to answer to anyone else. He’s probably lost all track of time in helping the sick. You can’t be takin’ offense that he puts the Lord’s work ahead of seeing you.’’
Karen stiffened. ‘‘I wouldn’t begin to take offense at my father’s work. He has a calling. He knows exactly what the Lord has asked of him—what He wants of my father’s life. How could I possibly take umbrage over that?’’
‘‘How can you worry and fret about it, either?’’ Adrik questioned. ‘‘After all, if the good Lord called him, won’t He see to him as well?’’
Karen relaxed and nodded. ‘‘Of course, you’re right. My nature has always taken a tendency of trying to orchestrate the details.’’ She motioned to the store. ‘‘Would you like to come in and warm up? I’m sure there’s coffee on the stove and you’re more than welcome to take breakfast with us.’’
‘‘Nah, I have to head up to Sheep Camp.’’
Karen felt a surge of hope. Perhaps Adrik could find Jacob. ‘‘Would you consider doing something for me—I mean while you are on your journey north?’’
Adrik grinned. ‘‘It’s hard to turn down a pretty lady. What’d you have in mind?’’
Karen felt her cheeks grow hot at the compliment. ‘‘Well. . . that is to say. . .’’ she stammered, trying to regain her composure. ‘‘Mr. Barringer has gone north. He’s heading to Dawson City, in fact. He’s left his children in my charge, but the oldest has disappeared. Jacob is almost fifteen, and he’s very angry that his father has left him behind. I fear he’s gone off to find him.’’
Adrik rubbed his chin. ‘‘I’ll keep my eyes open, but I only saw the boy once and that was from a distance. Bill pointed him out and that was kind of the long and the short of it.’’
‘‘He’s just a couple of inches shorter than me, and his hair is kind of a tawny color and straight. He has blue eyes and,’’ she looked upward as if to draw to mind a clearer picture, ‘‘and a sweet boyish face.’’ She gazed back to Adrik and shrugged. ‘‘I can’t really tell you much more.’’
‘‘You’ve just described half the boys on the trail and some of the men,’’ Adrik replied, laughing. ‘‘But don’t worry. If I see anyone slinking along on their own, I’ll check it out.’’
‘‘Thank you, Mr. Ivankov.’’
‘‘Call me Adrik.’’
She’d faced these informalities before, but somehow with Adrik, the notion made her feel uncomfortable. ‘‘That wouldn’t be very proper. We hardly know each other.’’
Adrik broke into a roguish grin. ‘‘I know plenty about you, Miss Pierce. Your pa has a propensity for talk when the fire is burning down and the stars are high.’’
Karen felt a trembling run through her body. She looked away quickly. ‘‘If you see my father, will you please tell him I’m thinking of him? That I love him,’’ she added, self-conscious of the words.
‘‘Only if you call me Adrik,’’ he replied.
She looked up to find him still grinning. As uncomfortable as he’d just made her, Karen couldn’t take offense. ‘‘Very well, Adrik.’’
He nodded approvingly. ‘‘I’ll do it, and if time permits, I’ll get word back to you or make sure that your father sends some word to you.’’
‘‘Thank you. I know I’ll rest better just knowing you’ve taken the matter in hand.’’
‘‘Always happy to help a lady,’’ he replied with a wink.
———
After an absence of three days, Jacob reappeared. It was Christmas Eve and the spirits of the residents of Dyea were running high. He couldn’t help but notice the various ways in which people had tried to liven up things for the holidays. Some had cut paper stars and hung them with ribbon from their windows. Some had decorated little trees with silly things like kitchen utensils and yarn. There might be a gold rush on, but the birth of Christ was still very much on the calendar.
Jacob only wished he had a heart for the celebration. After trying without luck to find his father, he’d found himself face-to-face with Adrik Ivankov. The big, burly man assured him that his father would not be easily found and that the trail was too harsh for one as unprepared as Jacob.
The comment had stung his pride, but Jacob’s freezing and starving body refused to allow his emotions any leeway. Agreeing to go back to Dyea, Jacob had happily taken a meal with Adrik. Warming up in a small tentside café, Jacob had lamented his ability to only reach Finigan’s Point—not but a few miles up the trail.
‘‘You ever consider that God might not have wanted you coming up this way?’’ Adrik had asked him. ‘‘Maybe there was a reason for you being in Dyea.’’
‘‘I thought I could find my pa and talk him into taking me with him,’’ Jacob had told the big man. He hadn’t added that the pain of being left behind was more than he could bear. That he wanted to confront his father—make him answer for his actions—even fight it out. It just hurt so bad.
Coming to the little store on Main and 6th Street, Jacob knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do. He didn’t like having to answer for his deeds, but he knew Karen Pierce well enough to know that she’d brook no nonsense regarding his disappearance. With a sigh, he pushed open the door, causing bells to rings from overhead. Someone had nailed sleighbells to the top of the frame and they cheerily announced his arrival.
‘‘Jacob!’’ Karen exclaimed. She rushed forward and embraced him as though he were her own. ‘‘I was so worried. Are you all right?’’ She held him at arm’s length and gave him a cursory examination.
‘‘Let’s get you warmed up,’’ she said, pulling him with her to the back of the store. ‘‘Are you hungry?’’
He nodded but said nothing. Karen guided him to a chair at the table and proceeded to bustle around the kitchen preparing him a meal. Jacob was surprised that she asked no questions about his whereabouts or reasons for leaving. She’d likely already figured them out. Or maybe she didn’t care where he’d gone or why. Jacob couldn’t help but remember his mother telling him a story about the Prodigal Son in the Bible. The boy came home to a celebration. His father didn’t care where he’d been or what he’d done, he only cared that the boy had come home. His mother said that God felt that way about His lost children.
‘‘Where is everybody?’’ Jacob finally asked.
Karen put a bowl of stew down in front of him. ‘‘They’ve gone to a party, believe it or not.’’ She smiled, but Jacob could see her concern for him in her eyes. ‘‘I’ll get you some bread and something to drink.’’
Jacob said a quick prayer, a matter of habit that his mother had instilled in him from his very first memories. He had already started to eat when Karen returned with a huge hunk of bread and a steaming mug of coffee. He eyed the coffee for a moment, then looked up at Karen.
‘‘You said coffee was for the grown-ups.’’
Karen took the chair opposite him and nodded. ‘‘I guess being almost fifteen and living through all that you’ve endured makes you as close to an adult as you need to be for coffee.’’ She smiled. ‘‘With everyone else gone, I was hoping you might talk to me.’’
Jacob looked at her quietly. She was a pretty woman. He’d noticed that right off. She had curly red hair that she liked to braid down her back. Jacob had watched her braid it once or twice and thought it looked like nothing he’d ever seen. She was a kind woman too. Stern and rather determined to have her own way, but for a grown-up lady, Jacob figured she was decent enough.
He focused on the food for a moment, wolfing down a good portion of the stew and bread, before taking time to comment on her suggestion.
‘‘I didn’t mean to worry anybody. I just wanted to find my pa.’’
‘‘I understand. I’d like to find my father as well.’’
He looked at her and saw a kind of sadness in her eyes. Yes, she knew what it was like. She’d come to Alaska not for gold, but to find her pa.
He tasted the coffee and frowned. It was bitter and hot and not at all pleasing. Karen laughed and pushed forward the sugar bowl.
‘‘You might want to sweeten it a bit. I don’t have any cream for it, but there’s sugar.’’
He nodded and added a liberal amount of the sweetener before tasting it again. Finding it more palatable, he looked up and nodded again. ‘‘It’s better now.’’
They sat in silence for several more minutes before Karen finally just opened up and put her thoughts out for him to consider.
‘‘Jacob, I know you feel miserable. What your father did was wrong. He should never have brought you and Leah north. He should have made a home for you where it was safe and predictable. But he’s a good man and he does love you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have cared what you might have had to face on the trail. I don’t want you to hate him for leaving. I’d much prefer, in fact, that you try to understand that he did what he thought was for your best.’’
‘‘He didn’t care what I wanted. What Leah wanted.’’ He kept his words flat and without feeling.
Karen seemed to consider the comment. ‘‘No, I suppose he didn’t. I’m sure if he’d thought overmuch on anything related to feelings, he’d never have been able to go on his way.’’
‘‘He ain’t been the same since Ma died,’’ Jacob said.
‘‘I don’t suppose any of you have been.’’
Jacob met Karen’s eyes and saw the deep sympathy she held for him. He warmed to her kindness and found his hard shell of indifference falling away in bits and pieces. It was just too hard to pretend that he didn’t feel anything, especially when it came to his mother.
‘‘I miss her.’’ The words were simple, yet heartfelt. Jacob felt his throat grow tight.
‘‘I miss my mother too,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘Having her die was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with.’’
Jacob nodded. She understands, he thought. She knows how much it hurts and how bad I feel.
‘‘I came north to find my father,’’ Karen continued, ‘‘but I also wanted to see my mother’s grave. Somehow, I figured seeing where she was buried would help me to better accept that she’s really and truly gone.’’
‘‘How can you accept something so awful?’’ The words were barely audible.
Karen leaned back rather casually and looked upward, as if the conversation were nothing of any big importance. ‘‘It’s always hard to accept bad news. I take comfort in the fact that my mother loved God. She had given her heart and life to God’s work, and I know I’ll see her again someday—in heaven.’’
‘‘My ma was a Christian too,’’ Jacob whispered. Tears formed in his eyes, and he got up from the table rather abruptly. Karen stood too, looking as though she might try to stop him if he chose to run. Jacob could no longer stand the guilt and pain of his burden. ‘‘She put great store in the Bible and getting saved. She wanted that for all of us, but I couldn’t give her the peace she wanted.’’
‘‘What peace, Jacob?’’ Karen’s voice was soft and soothing. She walked to where he stood and looked at him without any hint of condemnation.
‘‘The peace she would have had if I’d gotten saved before she died,’’ he said, his voice breaking.
Karen wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close. In a motherly fashion she stroked his head and let him cry. He felt miserable and stupid for breaking down. What kind of baby would she think him? He pulled away and struggled to regain control. Embarrassed, he turned away.
‘‘Jacob, you don’t have be ashamed. You can talk to me, even cry on my shoulder. We all have to shed a few tears now and then.’’
‘‘Men don’t cry,’’ Jacob said, forcing control over his voice.
‘‘Sure they do. I’ve seen my father weep buckets of tears over lost souls,’’ Karen replied. She went to Jacob and gently touched his arm. ‘‘You don’t have to be ashamed. I don’t think less of you for your tears. Fact is, I’d think less of you if you were without feeling for the things that matter.’’
‘‘I wanted to please her. I really did. But I just couldn’t make a promise to God.’’
‘‘Why not? Don’t you believe that salvation is necessary?
Don’t you think you sin just like everybody else?’’
‘‘Of course I do,’’ he replied rather indignantly. ‘‘I’m a terrible sinner.’’
‘‘Then why not come clean before God?’’ she asked.
Jacob tensed. ‘‘It’s not important.’’ He tried to walk away, but Karen held him fast.
‘‘It’s only life and death,’’ Karen said. ‘‘Why can’t you give your heart to Jesus, Jacob?’’
Her calm, loving way was his undoing. Jacob’s tears returned in a torrent of emotion. ‘‘I’d do it in a minute if it would bring her back. I can’t bear that I let her down.’’
‘‘It’s my guess that she was only concerned with seeing you again in heaven.’’
He nodded. ‘‘I know. She said that much. But I’m not a good person, Miss Pierce.’’
Karen smiled. ‘‘None of us are. And why don’t you call me Karen. It seems to be the way things are done up here, and I might as well give up the nonsense of formalities, especially when much more important things are at stake.’’ She paused and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘‘So why is it that you are so far beyond redeeming?’’
‘‘I’m just not good. I make a lot of mistakes.’’
‘‘So?’’
His voice rose in agitation. ‘‘I know I’ll keep making them.’’
‘‘So?’’
Jacob frowned. ‘‘Ma said you weren’t to make a pledge to God if you didn’t intend to keep it. She said it was foolishness, that the Bible said it was better not to make a promise at all than to make one and not see it through.’’
Karen smiled and nodded. ‘‘That’s true, but there’s also the matter of your heart, Jacob. Would you willingly go into sin? Would you seek it out—desire it for your life?’’
‘‘No,’’ he replied, shaking his head.
‘‘See, God knows we’re going to make a mess of things now and then,’’ she continued. ‘‘We have a sinful nature, and we need the Holy Spirit to help guide us as we go about our way. We need God to strengthen us because we can’t do anything on our own.’’
‘‘But if I give my heart to God and break my promise, won’t He hate me—condemn me?’’
‘‘God knows your weaknesses, Jacob. He knows exactly where you’ll be tempted and where you won’t. Besides, the promise is on God’s part—not yours. Your part of the promise is to accept His free gift of salvation with a repentant heart. His part of the promise is Jesus.’’
Jacob had never heard salvation explained in such a manner. He felt a surge of hope. ‘‘And even if I mess up, God will still know that I’m trying—that I want to be good and do right?’’
Karen smiled, and the look on her face reassured him more than her words. ‘‘He’s already seen the future. Remember, Jesus died for you every bit as much as He died for His disciples and friends. He knew you—Jacob Barringer—would need a Savior. He knew all your sins and the things you’d do wrong. He knew the things that would come out of your mouth and the things you’d harbor in your heart. And He still went to the cross because He didn’t want to lose you, Jacob. He’s just waiting for you to come home—to see how much He loves you.’’
Jacob’s eyes flooded with tears, and he couldn’t even see Karen for the blur they created. His heart felt lighter than it had since his mother had first talked to him about salvation.
‘‘Jesus loves you. He loves you and He already knows your heart,’’ Jacob’s mother had said not long before her death. ‘‘You can’t keep anything from Him.’’ Her words had been so tender—so gentle. They were given out of love and a desire to show her child the truth.
For some reason the memory eased the aching in Jacob’s heart. ‘‘I’m just afraid of letting Him down,’’ he finally whispered. ‘‘I’m not good at keeping promises.’’
Karen hugged Jacob tightly. ‘‘Maybe not, but He is.’’
Jacob allowed himself to rest in Karen’s arms. She reminded him so much of his mother. Even the way she held him was similar. How he wished he’d allowed his mother to hug him more often. He’d always worried about what his friends might think or say. He’d told his mother he was too big for such silliness.
I’m not too big, Ma, he thought, wishing with all his heart that she might hear and know his love for her. I’m not too big for you to love.
He pulled away and looked at Karen quite seriously. ‘‘Do you suppose if I take Jesus as my Lord, that my ma will see and know?’’
‘‘The Bible says that all of heaven rejoices when a lost sinner gets saved,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘I would imagine she’ll be sharing that happiness right along with the rest of heaven.’’
‘‘Will you tell me what to do—what to say?’’
Karen nodded, and holding on to his hand, she knelt on the floor. Looking up at him, she smiled. ‘‘I’ve found that it’s best to start from the bottom and work our way up.’’