8

Little Charlie Sirven shivered under the mound of blankets. Nasnana wiped his brow and prayed. Oh, Father, heal your precious child if it be your will.

Dr. Hillerman and Dr. Vaughan had worked long into the night trying to save the boy’s life. Then in the past three days, they’d performed three different surgeries to stop the bleeding. Charlie hadn’t awakened since the accident. They said the blow to the child’s head was the worst. Mama moose could be deadly when protecting their young. And this poor child had been trampled trying to pet the little baby. Charlie’s legs were in casts and his face was black and blue. He hadn’t been in Alaska long enough to learn about the native creatures. And what child could resist the gangly, awkward-looking young animals?

Charlie moaned in his sleep. More than anything, Nasnana hated to see children suffer. She always came to see him in the wee hours of the morning so as not to upset anyone. Gertrude Albany had done her best to instill fear in some of the newcomers about Indians. But many of the women reached out to Nasnana anyway. Several of them came looking for her daily—seeking guidance on berries, edible plants, productive gardening, and sourdough uses. It might be 1935—the twentieth century—but the women who understood they were living as pioneers would be the ones to survive, along with their families.

It did her heart good to be able to be a part of the lives of the new people here. The community atmosphere seemed healthy except for a few negative souls.

Charlie’s mother, Cora, slept on a cot in the corner. The poor woman tried her best to be there as often as possible. She told Nasnana she wanted to be there when he awoke, but with three other children who were younger than Charlie, the young mother was exhausted. The boy’s father had disappeared after the accident, no doubt hunting the “killer” moose. They all prayed for his safe return soon. The boy needed his father.

Sadzi appeared at Nasnana’s side, causing her to gasp. “Child, you’ve got to stop sneaking up on me.”

“Sorry, Grandmother. I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

“I know. It just never ceases to amaze me how you can step so lightly.” She rose to her feet, letting all her joints work the kinks out. Getting older had not been fun, but she thanked God each day for another day to live for Him.

“Gwyn brought us an early breakfast. She asked if the three of us could pray together before everyone else wakes.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She took Sadzi’s arm and walked with the precious child God had given her the privilege to raise. “I’m starved.”

“You should be. You fasted and prayed all day yesterday.” Sadzi kissed her cheek.

“That’s right. I’d forgotten. No wonder I’m so hungry.” She giggled with her granddaughter.

Gwyn laid out a small feast on the tiny table by Dr. Hillerman’s desk. “There’s not a lot of room, but at least here we’ll be able to hear any of the patients should they need us.”

After prayer, the girls chatted about the children who’d already stolen their hearts. There were so many families it was hard to keep them all straight, but Gwyn and Sadzi seemed to know everyone’s name already. How blessed Nasnana was to have these young women in her life.

“How are things at the experimental station?” Sadzi asked as she grabbed another piece of toast.

Gwyn’s gray eyes lit up. “I can’t believe how much we’ll be growing this year. Lilly is doing a great job, but she will be very busy. I just keep praying there will be enough food to sustain all the people.”

“The enrollees will be planting gardens as well, so I’m sure the Lord will provide.” Nasnana hated to think of anyone going hungry during a winter in Alaska. Supplies couldn’t always be guaranteed to arrive on time, if at all.

“Grandmother’s right, and there’s plenty of hunting in the winter and fishing in the summer.”

They all nodded together. Gwyn set her coffee cup down. “There is a little bit of dissent going on in the tent city, though—a lot of the men are concerned that the houses won’t be built fast enough. Two hundred homes is a lot to build in a short amount of time.”

“Especially when many of the men will need to clear a good portion of their land and try to plant crops as well.” Sadzi leaned forward. “They won’t be able to draw for the lots until the rest of the men arrive in a few days. June will be upon us before we know it. It’s understandable the colony men are worried. The women too.”

Nasnana reached into her pocket for a pencil. “Hand me a sheet of paper, Gwyn. Rather than gossiping and worrying, I think we need to start a prayer list of all these concerns. It might seem like an insurmountable mountain of tasks for us humans, but I know God can handle it.”

Gwyn blushed. “You’re right. As always. I continue to let worry take over my thoughts.”

“Me too.” Her granddaughter fidgeted with her napkin. “I’m sorry.”

“Everything is best left in God’s hands. Everything.” A shadowy figure passed by the window. The hairs on Nasnana’s neck prickled. “Girls, there’s something else I would like to mention.” The shadow moved on.

Gwyn’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“That new fellow—visiting his brother?”

Gwyn’s expression turned into a scowl. She crossed her arms across her chest. “Clarence Novak.”

“Yes, that’s the one. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. He’s too sneaky—like a snake slithering in and out of the rocks. Almost . . .”

“Slimy,” Sadzi threw in and giggled.

Gwyn laughed with Sadzi. “Eww. That’s a great word for him. He makes me feel like I’ve got bugs running up and down my skin every time he talks to me.”

“Well, I don’t think he can be trusted, and you know I do not say so without thought.” Nasnana quirked an eyebrow. “There is something . . . well . . . he seems . . .” She struggled to remember the English word. “Beghejashla qilan.”

Gwyn nodded. “He’s dangerous. I agree. There are in fact several other workers who seem the same. I think we need to be aware of the dangers.”

“Knowing them is only part of the problem. You must promise me you will stay far away from him.”

Gwyn quickly complied. “I promise.”

“I—” Footsteps sounded. Sadzi stood up, “Good morning, Dr. Vaughan. Do you need us to move?”

“Not at all, ladies. I just need to grab some medication, and I will be out of the way.” The young doctor’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Nasnana watched him take a brief second glance at Gwyn when she wasn’t looking.

After Jeremiah left, Sadzi elbowed Nasnana. “Grandmother, I think Dr. Vaughan would be a nice man for Gwyn. Don’t you agree?”

Red crept up Gwyn’s neck and ears. “I . . . I . . .”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but tease. Every once in a while, I catch him watching you. Has he shown any interest? Do you even like him?” Sadzi propped her chin on her hand.

Quiet Gwyn stood and wrung her hands. “I don’t know. He sure is handsome. And I find myself thinking about him a lot. But he’s often so quiet—so indifferent toward me. Father says he has a great deal on his mind, and I heard him pray for Jeremiah and ask God to help him with his burden, but I don’t know what that burden is. I’m not sure Father does either.”

Nasnana listened with interest. She’d have to keep a close eye on Jeremiah Vaughan if he were to be worthy of precious Gwyn’s heart. She had an inkling the young man was hiding something. Perhaps that was a part of the burden for which Dr. Hillerman had prayed. She would pray for him as well. He seemed to have a heart of gold and she liked him. He was hardworking and quick to lend a hand. But could he be trusted?

The shadow passed by the window once more.

A foreboding sensation replaced the prickling she’d felt earlier. She sensed an evil had entered their valley. She stood and walked to the window. The air felt heavy and weighed on her like a wet blanket.

“What is it, Grandmother?”

“I don’t know. But we need to pray.”

Mud oozed through the knees of her pants, but Gwyn didn’t care. The rain the past couple of days couldn’t quench her love for being outside after the winter snow. And the planting needed to get done, mud or not. If they waited for the soil to dry out, there wouldn’t be enough growing season left.

She’d been on her knees in the garden for hours, but this was one of her favorite things. The soil didn’t talk back. It just allowed her to work it while she worked through her thoughts.

Sitting back on her heels, she stretched. The mountains surrounding the valley were majestic and snowcapped. She never tired of looking at them. The brilliance of the blue sky peeking through the puffy gray clouds took her breath away. How amazing of God to allow her to live in such a place. She’d always been happy here.

As she stabbed her trowel back into the ground, her thoughts turned back to Jeremiah. No matter how hard she tried, the handsome young doctor inevitably came to mind. The other morning he’d arrived with his hair sticking out all over the place. Not that she minded. It was an adorable sight—and considering he’d maybe gotten about an hour of sleep after setting a broken arm, she didn’t think he cared about combing his hair. But she often wondered if these thoughts were healthy. She kept praying about it. Asked God to take away her feelings if they were inappropriate. Yet day after day, she’d see Jeremiah and her insides would melt into a puddle.

Once in a while, they’d have a chance to talk alone about a patient or a project she could help with, and she felt as if they were getting to know each other. Then other times, his treatment of her was cool—standoffish—as if knowing her as his nurse was the single purpose. Why would a sophisticated doctor from the city care about a simple girl from Alaska?

The conflict this created in her emotions made her want to cry. She threw a clump of mud across the garden and made a decision: no more second-guessing the doctor’s motives. Gwyn would be herself and continue on as normal. If Jeremiah Vaughan wanted to get to know her, he’d have to pursue her. All these frivolous daydreams weren’t going anywhere, and she certainly didn’t have time to waste. It’s not like they had time for anything extra right now anyway. The next few months would be a blur of activity and hard work.

She dug through the thick layer of mud again and reached into the luscious soil of the valley. She allowed seeds to fall from her other hand as she worked along the row, digging and planting.

Her nose itched. As she reached up to scratch it, she noticed a pair of boots in front of her and fell back on her rear.

“Hello, Gwyn.”

She put a hand to her heart. “Jeremiah, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.” His smile reached up and crinkled the corners of his eyes. Was this the first real smile she’d seen from him? It didn’t matter. It just made him more handsome.

“That’s all right.” Gwyn looked down. Good grief. Was it possible for her to be covered in more mud? “I probably scared you just as much with my muddy appearance.”

He laughed. A deep, warm laugh that she knew for certain she hadn’t heard before. She liked it. A lot.

“I admit I’ve never seen a woman work in a garden.” The smile lingered on his face.

Meaning he’d never seen a woman covered in mud. “Really?” She shoved her trowel back into the ground. She’d better avoid looking at him or the butterflies in her stomach would work themselves into a frenzy.

“Well, you know, growing up in the city. My parents hired help to do everything for them, or we just bought it.”

“Oh, I see.” Did she? Wasn’t that what her mother always complained about? Not having hired help in Alaska? Just another reminder that Jeremiah came from a different world than she did. Gwyn had a few memories of childhood in Chicago, but they all revolved around her father and their backyard. It had been her sanctuary, and Mother had sent her there often.

Jeremiah shoved his hands into his pockets and paced the outskirts of her garden plot. “I needed some air this morning. We’ve had so much work that I thought it was a good time to clear my head.”

She nodded. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“I forgot to tell you—Charlie said a couple of words today. Now that he’s fully awake, we’re confident he will continue his progress.”

“That’s wonderful news!” She’d been present when Charlie woke for the first time, but his eyes hadn’t been clear. He spent most of his days asleep, but yesterday, he’d woken three times during the day, and they’d all been hopeful.

“It is. I know you stayed by his side a lot. Thank you. You’re a great nurse, Gwyn.”

She felt her neck and cheeks heat up under his praise. “Thank you.”

Several moments passed. She continued to work and heard his steps squishing through the mud.

He stopped by the fence. “Why such a high fence around the garden?”

“The moose love to get into gardens. Just when you think everything is ripe and ready to harvest, the moose get in and eat up your winter’s food.” Gwyn looked up and removed her gloves to relieve an itch. “We lost our entire garden one year, and Father built the fence the next day.”

Jeremiah chuckled. “I can imagine.” He looked toward their cabin. “Your father built a beautiful home here. It’s so large.”

“Mother didn’t think so. She always called it a shack. He certainly tried to please her. I admit I love the house, but I love people and what’s outside of the house even more.” She replaced her soiled gloves and pointed her trowel at the panoramic view.

“Alaska is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I should’ve come here sooner.” His voice turned melancholy, serious. “We always see the past clearer looking back from the future, don’t we?”

Gwyn went back to her digging again. His eyes held depths of emotion she wasn’t ready to question. She pulled out a big rock she hit with her trowel. This was the first time they’d discussed anything outside of the clinic. And she hated to ruin it. “I guess that’s how we learn from our mistakes. If we always knew the correct path to take, we wouldn’t learn as much.” She threw the rock out of the garden. “But constantly looking back isn’t healthy, and dwelling on past mistakes only manages to keep our eyes off the finish line.” She dared a look up at him.

He looked off into the distance, his expression hard. “You make a good point, but what if what you thought was the finish line really wasn’t?”

She shrugged her shoulders and dug back into the dirt. Might as well be honest. He did ask. “Then you weren’t focused on the real finish line, and God is trying to get you back on track.”

“I’m not real happy with the way God handled things. He could’ve spared a lot of pain and heartache if . . .”

Gwyn leaned back and looked up at him again. “If?”

He clamped his lips shut. “It doesn’t matter.”

The train’s whistle sounded in the distance. That meant the rest of the colony men were arriving, and the ARRC could commence with the drawing of the tracts of land.

“Look—” she stood and shook some of the mud and dirt off her pants—“I’ve lived with and worried about the ‘what-ifs’ all my life—”

“Gwyn, it doesn’t matter.” He held a hand up in front of him, his smile not reaching his eyes again. Now that she’d seen the real thing, she knew this one was forced. “Thanks for trying, but I shouldn’t have bothered you.” He turned and walked away.

As Gwyn watched him, her heart ached. For a moment, she’d hoped the real Jeremiah would open up. But why would he do that? She didn’t fit into his world.

The whistle sounded again. She’d better get cleaned up.

The colonists had been waiting for this day—to know where they would be living for the next thirty or so years. Excitement had built in all the families already in the valley. It was happening—their new start.

Maybe she needed to pray for her own new start.

The street was muddy and rain drizzled down on the crowd huddled around the Federal Emergency Relief Administration’s Stewart Campbell, but it didn’t dampen anyone’s spirit. May 23 would be a day in the history books for the Matanuska valley. Gwyn watched in joyful anticipation. There wasn’t a need for a grand ceremony or parade. Just simple slips of paper and a man from each household.

Arthur Hack drew the first tract of land. Gwyn clapped with the others and smiled at the faces around her. The men who’d just disembarked the train were still a little green and weary from traveling, but the others who had been there almost two weeks were bouncing on their toes, looking eager to get started. It looked like half of these men had enough balled-up energy to go build their house that very day. Even in the rain.

She smiled at the thought. The excitement was catching.

Watching a few of the newcomers, Gwyn felt a little sorry for them. Their families weren’t with them yet and wouldn’t get to see the historic land drawing. But at least they’d all made it to Alaska. The train only had room for the men so that the draw for the land could move forward. Time was of the essence. Their families would follow on the next trains.

This latest bunch couldn’t take their eyes off the landscape around them. No one seemed to care about the rain or the mud. Or even the rows of white tents with children running in every direction. This was their new home. And what a beautiful home it was.

Gwyn had lived here most of her life, yet the scenery still took her breath away. Granted, the tent city and its chaos did mar the valley a bit—the land’s pristine and rugged features now cradling the hundreds of tents and its pioneer occupants—but all one had to do was look up. Above the noise. Above the white tents. And there . . . the grandeur of the snow-covered peaks in vast array, too numerous to count, towered in sentry over them. The lush green of the spruce and the crystal waters caused many to be speechless on first sight.

Gwyn walked through the crowd for a while, listening and watching as each man drew for his family. Several of the children standing on the outskirts waved at her, while others played in the mud. She had to admit the children livened up the settlement. She loved seeing Alaska through their eyes. There was always such wonder and delight when something new came to light.

Supplies and machinery arrived every day for the commissary. All the colonists were given three-thousand-dollar loans to help them get started. And even though they’d be toughing it out in tent homes for a while, most of the people didn’t mind. They had a roof over their heads. Food to eat. Promise and hope for the future.

Charlie’s mother walked up to her, a baby on her left hip. “Thank you, Miss Hillerman, for all your care for my boy.”

“You’re welcome, Cora.” Gwyn tweaked the baby’s nose. “And please, call me Gwyn. I hear Charlie’s talking now?”

“Yes, and he recognized us. We just came from visiting him. Doc says we can bring him home tomorrow, but we wanted to be out here for the draw.” She shifted the baby to the other hip.

“I’m so happy for you. You keep us informed as to how he’s doing, okay?”

The woman nodded and rushed into the crowd. She must be thankful her husband had returned before the land draw.

A man approached Gwyn and held out his hand. “Hello, Miss Hillerman. I’m Arville Schaleben from the Milwaukee Journal. I was wondering if I might ask you some questions.”

Ah. So this was the one reporter who would stay here and live in a tent side by side with the colonists. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Schaleben. But I don’t know if I have anything of import to say.” She began to walk again.

“Oh, but you do. I hear you have lived here for many years.”

“Yes, most of my life.” Gwyn glanced at the newspaperman. He seemed nice enough. And anyone willing to live in these conditions rather than travel back and forth to Anchorage like the other press must at least have a spirit of adventure.

“It’s a beautiful area.”

“Yes, it is. I love it.”

“How do you think the colonists will fare?” He poised his pencil over a small notepad.

Gwyn thought for a moment. “I think if they have positive attitudes and don’t mind working hard, they will do very well here.”

He nodded. “That’s a splendid answer, Miss Hillerman. Did you know that the Milwaukee Journal is the only paper that guaranteed exclusive day-by-day coverage?”

“I did not. But thank you for sharing.” Maybe the man was a little proud of his job. Gwyn wished Sadzi were there to hear the conversation.

“This is an exciting time for our country. I’m thrilled to be a part of it.”

“Oh, so will you stay long term, like the colonists?”

He laughed. “Well, I’m not sure about that, but I’d love the chance to speak with you again as everyone settles in.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “It’s very kind of you to ask my opinion, Mr. Schaleben, but I’m very busy with the clinic.” Hoping the conversation was done, she started walking again.

“Thank you.”

The cheers from families made Gwyn smile as she left Arville Schaleben behind. It would take some time to finish, so she might as well get some more work done in the clinic. Her long steady steps took her to the office her father had run for almost two decades. A good jaunt from the tent city and the train stop, they would need to move it closer to the colony soon, but oh, how she loved this place. Hopefully the people here would appreciate what he’d sacrificed to stay here. And maybe they would love this land too.

Little Charlie waved at her as she walked in the door. Removing her light jacket, she went straight to his side. “Hi, Charlie.”

“Hi.”

“I’m so glad to see those big blue eyes of yours.”

The little boy reached up and touched one of her curls. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you, kind sir. Would you like a drink of water?”

He nodded.

“And how about a story?”

“Yes, please.”

Gwyn went to a shelf in the back and grabbed a small children’s book. A soft snore caused her to jump. As she looked around the corner, she spied Jeremiah sitting in a chair, fast asleep.

Their earlier conversation came to mind. Should she try to talk to him again? In this day and age, she knew that women were bolder than they’d ever been, but she wasn’t one of those women.

A shock of brown hair covered one of his eyes. She fought the longing to reach over and brush it away from his face. Maybe these feelings were all wrong. It could just be that she’d never been attracted to a man before. Being isolated shaped her world in a different light. Besides, he wasn’t attracted to her.

Jeremiah was a doctor. From Chicago. He’d probably had the opportunity to have any beautiful girl on his arm that he wanted.

Gwyn needed to stop these foolish thoughts.

She turned and brought the book back to Charlie and read to him while he drifted back to sleep. Small snores joined Jeremiah’s in harmony.

The door banged behind her father. He flicked rainwater off his black coat. “Gwyn, have you got it all under control in here?” he asked quietly.

“Sure. And Jeremiah’s in the back if I need him. Why?”

“Well, it took three hours for them to finish the draw, and some of the tracts were so bad that they granted some men another draw. A few of them even demanded to trade. But it’s done. That Stewart Campbell got it done. He’s the FERA administrator. Everyone’s in a hurry to get closer to their land, so they’re moving the tents to separate camps, where they can be closer to their lots.”

“That makes sense.” She laid another blanket over Charlie.

“But I think I need to go along. Some of them are in a big hurry, and I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“All right.” She hugged him. “I’m sure that’s a wise plan. It will be a mess, that’s for sure. I’ll be here if you need me.”

He headed back out into the rain.

Gwyn longed to go back and look in on Jeremiah but made herself stop those thoughts. It wouldn’t do any good.

A young woman burst through the clinic’s door with her baby in her arms, thrusting her toward Gwyn. “Please help me. She’s burning up with fever.”

Any tidying up could wait. Another child needed her.