The Alaska Brides Collection Part 14

Meredith poked her twin in the ribs. "Being five minutes older doesn't give you leave to be bossy."

"I'm not bossy." He eased past her and tacked on, "Just surly."

"You hardly even say a word to Ian except for wanting coffee."

The last thing Ian wanted was for her to be put in the center of a tug-of-war between him and her brother. He shook her cape and hung it on a peg by the door. "I understand. Tucker knows what he likes."

Tucker paused with the coffeepot in midair. "I know what I love."

"So go on and have a cup." Ian gently nudged Merry toward the table. "And have a seat. Breakfast is ready."

"You cooked breakfast?"

"Oh no." Tucker consoled himself with a swig of coffee.

"I'd be insulted if your reactions weren't warranted. In the past, some of the things I made were-"

"Burnt offerings." Tucker's voice rated as funereal.

"There are a few things that"-Ian grabbed a pair of pot holders-"I did learn to make. These are one of my favorites, so I hope you like them, too." He opened the oven and took out a heaping plate of buckwheat pancakes.

"Flapjacks!" Tucker scrambled to the table.

"How did you manage flapjacks?" Merry gave him a disbelieving look. "It takes eggs to make them."

"Yep. Two of 'em." Ian grinned. "I brought them back from Goose Chase packed in cornmeal. It's a trick my ma used while on the Oregon Trail. Once I got home, I oiled them."

"Enough talk." Tucker patted the table. "Let's eat."

Ian set down the platter and sat opposite Merry. He'd rather sit beside her, but her brother made a habit of doing so-a point Ian noted with a twinge of irritation. Lord, this is all in Your hands. Help me to have the right att.i.tude.

"Whose turn is it to pray?" Merry wondered aloud.

"Actually, it's your brother's, but I'd like to ask a special birthday blessing for the both of you." Ian bowed his head and folded his hands. "Our dear, praised heavenly Father, we come before You to start another day. 'Tis a special one-and I'd ask You to look down on Your daughter Merry and Your son Tucker. You've brought them through the past year, and I ask You to hold them in the hollow of Your hand this next year. Grant them health, happiness, and a closer walk with You. Thank You for the food before us, and know how glad we are to be Your children. In Jesus' name, amen."

"Thank you for that lovely prayer, Ian. Among the blessings G.o.d bestowed upon Tucker and me this year, you are at the top of the list."

"That's high praise, indeed. I'm honored." In years past, Ian gladly would have eaten every last buckwheat pancake himself. This morning he found contentment in eating only two and urging Meredith and Tucker to have more.

Once breakfast ended, he went to his bunk and moved the pillow. "I have a little gift for each of you. Tucker, here."

"No, have Sis go first."

Merry laughed as he swiped the last bite from her plate. "Tucker is older. He should go first."

"Ma taught me not to argue with ladies." Ian handed Tucker his gift.

"A cribbage board? I haven't played cribbage in years." Tucker's joy dimmed. "But we don't have cards."

"Ah, but we do!" Ian pulled a deck from his shirt pocket with a flourish.

Tucker concentrated on the wooden board and ran his thumbnail over the rows of tiny holes. "Thanks."

"What a wonderful gift!" Merry b.u.mped Tucker's shoulder playfully. "Now you won't have to try to learn to juggle. That"-her eyes twinkled with glee-"is actually Ian's gift to me: that I won't have to dodge the rocks you try to juggle."

"Nay, la.s.s. You've a gift, too." Ian could hardly wait to see her reaction. He scooted the pillow completely out of the way, picked up her present, and walked back to the table. "Here you are."

Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stared at his hand. From behind her fingers, her voice sounded breathless. "Hair ribbons."

"Your hair is your crowning glory, Merry." He set the gift on the table before her. As he did, the ribbons shifted, revealing a pair of hair combs and a card of hairpins beneath the lengths of pink, blue, and white.

"Hairpins! Socks doesn't sell ribbons or hairpins." Her warm hazel eyes sparkled with delight.

"Why would he?" Ian chuckled. "The man's bald as a shaved egg. I wrote home and told my family all about the two of you. I asked for the ribbons. My sister, Fiona, never can keep track of her hairpins. Half the time, she's searching for them at midday. I can't say for certain whether 'twas she or Ma who sent them along."

"Please give them my thanks." She turned to Tucker. "You knew about this, didn't you? That's why you arranged for me to wash my hair! The way you work together-it is such a joy to see what great partners and friends you've become."

"Tucker, we could spend the whole day jawing around in here, or we could actually go out to work and put some muscle behind that partnership."

"Go out to work? Why don't you work inside today?"

Tucker shook his head. "I can't stand being cooped up. There'll be plenty of days when we can't go out. I'm glad to have breathing room." He stood.

Once they'd left Merry and were out of earshot, Tucker stopped. "What you did-it was nice. But that doesn't change things. You can't buy Meredith's affections."

"I'd be a fool to believe otherwise."

"Why did you let her think I knew what you'd gotten her?"

"I neither agreed nor disagreed. We both want Merry to be happy. Aye, we do. On that we agree. And I credit you with loving her so much that you'd have decided to make our gifts complement one another for her benefit."

Tucker shook his head. "I don't know what it is up here that addles a man's mind. There's Abrams and Clemment, and now you. You're all crazy."

"Abrams is a rascal. Clemment-well, I thought perhaps we ought to discuss him. He's not right in his mind. I worry that he'll not take proper care of himself and be a winter casualty."

"Merry keeps track of things. You can write a note to his family. If she doesn't have an address, she can wheedle it out of him."

"I'll get word to his family. 'Tis the least we can do for a neighbor."

Tucker started rocking the wood-framed steel mesh rocker cradle as Ian dumped small chunks and gravel into it. He added water, and they winnowed through the stones that were worthless.

"Ian? Does Meredith have your family's address?"

Ian didn't pretend to misunderstand what Tucker meant. "Listen here, Smith. If you think I'll bolt off to my old hometown, you're the one who's showing a bent mind. Like this here, I've sifted through stones and pebbles and gravel. I finally struck gold in the form of the comely hazel eyes of your sister. Aye, and that's enough to make me feel as rich as Midas."

Ian dumped the top two levels of unremarkable chips of stone. He stuck his forefinger into the very bottom of the rocker box and brought it back up with a mere breath of gold dust on the tip. "A thimble full of this is an ounce. A refiner's fire burns off the dross and leaves it pure. You and I-we're standing in the furnace, but the Lord has different works to do within our hearts and souls. You can call me crazy, but 'tis commitment-commitment to His will and to the woman I love."

"A man who plays with fire gets burned."

"To me, Merry is worth whatever fire I must walk through."

Tucker stopped rocking the box. At the very bottom, only a few flakes glinted. "No matter how much you work at it, you don't always get enough of what you want in the end."

Somewhere, sometime ago, a woman hurt him. Compa.s.sion replaced Ian's frustration. "Tucker, whenever a man courts a woman, there's always a danger that things won't work out. I've not pursued anyone 'til now, but that's changed for me. To me, Merry is more than worth the risk."

Chapter 16.

Merry tilted her head and squinted. Ian's bottle window was beautiful to look at but difficult to see through. For the sake of warmth, he'd tacked a hide up over the window and shut the shutters, but for the scant three hours of daylight they had, he'd roll up the hide and open the shutters.

It's so much nicer than last winter. Even a little light is wonderful, and the colors are pretty. They'd gone through a five-day blizzard recently. Being in the small, dark cabin she and Tucker shared felt suffocating. He'd been restless. He'd also muttered about partnerships and not getting enough in the end.

Lord, You know how he worries about the money. If it's Your will to provide enough to cover the debts, we'll be grateful. If You don't want us to be free, then please grant us grace.

She opened her sewing box and pulled out her knitting needles and yarn. For a few hours, she could work on Christmas gifts. Her mind whirled as the yarn played between the needles. Tucker was upset when we were in our cabin and Ian was over here. He already feels beholden to Ian. Knowing Ian was working here with the rocker cradle while we weren't helping- that has to bother Tucker. I should have realized it before now.

After finishing several rows, Meredith put away her knitting. She went to the stove and stirred the stew. Mountain sheep, two sizable potatoes, some carrots, and a.s.sorted spices mingled to give off a mouth-watering aroma. After filling a jar, she covered the stew once again and put on her russet cloak. She barely touched the door, and the wind blew it wide open. Snow from the past two days spread before her. Using leather thongs, she strapped on the snowshoes Tucker had made for her. Even with them on, it took effort to walk to where the men were working.

"What are you-"

"Doing out here?" Tucker finished Ian's question. They both looked at her as if she'd taken leave of her senses.

"I'm worried about Mr. Clemment. I'm taking him some stew."

"I'll take it to him." Tucker came toward her with far more ease than Ian did. Merry didn't comment on that fact; Tucker was weaving a pair of snowshoes for Ian as their Christmas gift. They'd be done in time for the worst of the cold months.

"I want to go, too. You can't expect me to stay cooped up all the time."

"Go on ahead." Ian rubbed his gloved hands. "I'll check the snares."

Tucker and she were halfway to Mr. Clemment's claim when Meredith dared to voice what was on her mind. "Ian's cabin has a lot of room. When blizzards. .h.i.t, if we stayed there, you could work alongside him."

"What's wrong with our cabin?"

"Nothing at all. We made it through last winter just fine. I was thinking more of how he used the rocker cradle and coaxed gold from the silt while you and I did nothing during the last storm."

"I can take a bag of rocks back to our cabin and pan by the firelight."

"Yes, you could. I could, too."

"No, you can't. I'd have to do it over the dishpan so we don't end up with water and ice on the floor."

Meredith said nothing about how Ian had stretched the mountain goat's hide so that it now formed a big, warm rug in his main room. Instead, she said, "We can take turns."

"No," Tucker replied in a harsh tone. "You did all that gardening and earned what we needed for this winter's supplies. I'm doing the prospecting."

"I don't mind, Tucker."

"I do." His voice was colder than the arctic wind.

Mr. Clemment didn't answer their knock. Tucker kicked the door, and it swung inward. The biggest mess Meredith had ever seen stretched before her. Tucker stepped in first, pulled her in, then shut the door. In a low tone, he ordered, "Stay right here. I'll give him the food."

Meredith released the jar and watched her twin shuffle around the mess and toward the table. Mr. Clemment sat cross-legged in the center of the table. He gave Tucker a big smile and gestured grandly. "Home, sweet nest."

"We brought you some chow." Tucker set the jar on the table. When Meredith took a step forward, Tucker motioned her back.

"Food looks good. It'll warm me clean down to my gizzard."

"You enjoy it, old-timer." Tucker came back to her side. "There's not much sun. I need to get Sis back to a warm cabin."

"Off with you, then." Clemment made a shooing motion.

Once he shut the door, Tucker stared at Meredith. "He's not right in the head. Ian and I discussed writing to his family. Do you know if he has any?"

"A brother. I have the address."

"Good. You don't come here alone. Ever."

"You don't want me to get out at all." She sighed. "Honestly, Tucker, I-"

"You're going to listen to me. Clemment was as ordinary as anyone we knew when he first got here. Being here has made him go crazy. You can't trust him for one minute. And like it or not, we're not going to stay with Ian during blizzards. There's no telling if his mind will snap, too."

"A Christmas tree?"

Ian nodded. He could tell how important it was to Meredith. She'd popped out of his cabin, eyes wide with antic.i.p.ation. "Aye, la.s.s, if you're wanting one, we can do that."

Merry's face lit with glee. "Oh, I do want one!"

"Fine, then. Let me set these inside." He opened the door to his cabin and put down a brace of snow hare he'd snared. Leaving them outside would invite predators.

"Do you want pasties with those, or roast?"

Ian shrugged. "Whatever pleases you."

"I'll let you decide while we choose a tree. I've already crocheted little snowflakes, and we can string cranberries."

"I'm far more liable to eat those cranberries than to string them up."

"You may eat popping corn instead. I don't think we need a big tree. Something about... this high."

"Come walk with me. You can choose whichever one you fancy." He'd far rather walk with her alone, but Ian knew Tucker wasn't about to put up with that notion. Instead, he called over, "Tucker! Merry wants a Christmas tree. Why don't you come along and help us find one?"