The Alaska Brides Collection Part 24

In the full moonlight, Braden made out a cabin barely outlined against the trees.

"I'll see to the load. You get the little one out of the night air." Wily had smeared some flat, strong-smelling leaves on his skin and insisted Braden do the same and also use it to protect Amy. Though the swarm of bugs didn't bite, they buzzed around Braden until the air was thick with them.

Amy, her faint changing to a more natural slumber, had slept the afternoon and evening away in Braden's arms.

"Thanks. Come on up to the house for the night."

Wily shook his head. "Downstream's a sight faster'n up. I'll sleep at home tonight." Then the grizzled old man had given Amy a worried look. "Uh, mister, I'm right sorry I didn't warn Amaruq about her pa. I thought she knew. I'm never one to talk out of turn. But I'd a spared her that if 'n I'd a known she 'spected to find her father to home."

With a shake of his head, Wily turned and began unloading the umiak.

Amaruq? What did that mean? A native word of affection for Amy, most likely. Braden turned toward Ian's house. He followed a path that climbed and twisted into the forest. Hoping Amy's extended unconsciousness came from simple exhaustion and shock and not something more serious, he reached Ian's door. "Ian, open up!"

A shout of joy sounded from inside the cabin. "Merry! He's here!"

The door flew open. "Braden, it's great to-" Ian, standing there in red flannel long johns, quit yelling. His expression faded from pure happiness to worry as he looked at Amy. Then he slung his arms around Braden awkwardly, trying not to squish Amy, but as if he couldn't contain his need to make contact.

"It's so great to see you. What happened? Who is she?"

Before Braden could speak, a pretty brunette in a hastily donned blue gingham housedress came dashing up from behind Ian. Ian stepped back just inches from Braden as if he couldn't bear to be farther away. A furrow cut through Ian's brow.

"You look done in, Braden. Let me take her." Ian reached for Amy, but Braden shook his head and angled away from Ian.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. I'll take her the rest of the way." Empty arms seemed like an extension of an empty life, and Braden couldn't face letting go right now. Bleakness washed over him.

" 'Tis a long walk from Skaguay." Ian stepped back a bit and laid a hand on Braden's shoulder.

Braden nodded. "I've left some supplies on the sh.o.r.e."

"This is Meredith." Ian tipped his head at his pretty, brown-haired wife. Ian's smile glowed with affection. Jealous pain slashed through Braden's heart.

Meredith nodded with a welcoming smile. "You must be exhausted. Is the woman hurt? Does she need medical care?"

Braden shook his head. "This is Amy Simons. She planned to return to her father's home. Peter Simons owns a cabin a few miles down river."

Ian nodded. "Knew him. He was an old trapper who's been here longer'n most anyone except the Eskimos. Never heard tell he had a daughter, though. Of course, he didn't talk much. Rumor had it he died last winter."

"Amy just found out."

"Let's get her inside. We can talk." Ian stopped and turned toward the river. "Say, is there coffee in those supplies?"

"We got one letter from you this year. Ma got so excited she sent everything you asked for and more. Let me lay Amy down. Then I'll see to it."

"You've got to be hungry." Ian nodded toward the house. "Let's get Amy to bed. Then you can eat while I holler for Tucker to help haul in the goods."

Braden knew of Meredith's twin, who had staked a claim nearby. "I didn't come here to make more work for you, Ian."

"If there's coffee in that pack you brought, I'll carry you down to the riverside, dancing all the way."

Braden scoffed. "That I'd like to see, little brother."

Grinning, Ian said, "I hardly qualify as your little brother anymore."

Braden noticed how broad Ian stretched across the shoulders these days. That kind of muscle came from long days swinging a pick for gold and an ax for wood. Braden wanted that kind of work. He wanted exhaustion that made him forget the torment of his memories.

Braden followed his brother into a tiny bedroom and lay Amy on the rumpled sheets. Ian and Meredith had obviously been long asleep when he arrived. Meredith pushed past him as he let his burden go with surprising reluctance.

Meredith busied herself fretting over Amy. He saw strength in Meredith's slim shoul- ders. She'd make a fine partner.

He couldn't stop his mind from turning to Maggie and all her frailties and complaints about the rugged life. The guilt hit him with an edge as keen as an ax. Feeling as if he were betraying her memory, Braden decided that tomorrow he'd start earning his keep. He wouldn't be a burden to his brother. He wouldn't.

Chapter 6.

A my's eyes flickered open. She stared at the ceiling overhead and wondered where she was. A noise made her turn her head, and she saw woodlands through an open window. The cool, crisp air and the sharp, sweet smell of cedar cleared her head. Alaska. Home.

Papa.

The memory hit her hard. A cry of pain nearly erupted from her throat. She choked it back, and it felt as if she swallowed jagged stones.

She'd never see her father again.

Fighting tears, she pushed the thick bearskin cover aside. The room felt sharply cold in the spring morning, but she'd been comfortable beneath the heavy fur. As she moved, her muscles protested.

Before she could sit up, the door opened, and a young woman entered.

"I thought I heard you moving in here." The pretty, dark-haired lady carried a tray. Amy could see a plate piled high with eggs, most likely duck eggs this time of year. Someone who knew the woods could feast in the spring. The plate had a slab of meat on it, too. Amy smelled mutton. If she'd been home, her father would have gone fishing early and brought in fresh salmon for breakfast.

Her eyes spilled over.

The woman set the tray down on a short table and dropped onto the bed beside Amy. "I'm Meredith, Braden's sister-in-law. Braden told us you just found out your father died. I'm so sorry, Amy." The woman wrapped her arms around Amy's shoulders and pulled her close.

Braden had talked about his brother and his new wife. The future had been safe to discuss; it was the past he'd avoided. Amy couldn't resist the warm arms. She held on tight and cried her eyes out.

When the storm had spent itself, Meredith eased Amy away.

Amy saw tears on the kind woman's face.

"I'm so sorry about your father." Meredith drew a square of cloth from her ap.r.o.n pocket. She handed it to Amy, then dried her own eyes on her ap.r.o.n. "I know we can't begin to take the place of your father, but please stay with us. I was so thrilled to see Braden bring a woman yesterday, I nearly cried at the sight of you. I'm so lonely for a woman's company, I told Ian I was about to head out for Seattle to kidnap a woman off the street, bring her here, and force her to talk to me." Meredith smiled. "You've saved me a lot of trouble."

Amy burst out laughing. Somehow the laughter was almost as wrenching as the tears. "You mean I'm a prisoner?"

"Don't even think of trying to escape. I'm a desperate woman."

Amy smiled. "So, you just survived your first Alaskan winter, then?"

Meredith's eyes widened into perfect circles. "It's dark for six months!"

Amy felt the smile hold, which shocked her when her heart hurt so badly. She couldn't remember ever being this fond of someone on so short an acquaintance. "I lived in Alaska until the age of twelve when my mother died. I noticed the long winters."

"You'd better eat your breakfast. You're going to need plenty of strength to sit and listen to me talk for the next six weeks." Meredith reached for the tray and slid it in front of Amy. Arching her eyebrows, she said, "Make it six months."

"I don't need breakfast in bed. I'll come out to the kitchen." Amy tried to set the tray aside.

"No, that'll take too long. You just start eating. I'll tell you about my life. When you're done eating, it will be your turn. It all started when I came up here to live with my twin brother, Tucker."

Amy enjoyed every bite of the breakfast. She'd forgotten the special flavor of duck eggs. The bighorn sheep reminded her that her father had shot and smoked one every year, but the tough, stringy, savory meat was a treat, not something to be eaten every day. They mainly ate salmon, halibut, seal, and even an occasional bit of whale when Amy's Tlingit relatives came past on their way north after a successful sea hunt.

They'd eaten the meat of whatever he trapped for fur, if possible. Mother made muskrat into a tasty stew combined with the greens and roots she'd coax out of the cold Alaskan dirt.

Amy would have had lapses into grief if Meredith hadn't chattered on while Amy ate, talking about her family and pointing out the window she'd had Ian add to the room so that they could get better air movement. Amy knew from Meredith's kind expression that the lady was deliberately putting herself out to be comforting.

When Amy finished her meal, Meredith said, "I've been heating water so you can have a warm bath."

Amy sat forward so eagerly she nearly fell out of bed. "Warm water?"

"Yes, and plenty of it. There's wood to burn and water to heat if nothing else. Especially now that spring is here and we don't need to burn constantly just to keep the bitter cold at bay."

"Thank you. You shouldn't have. I could have bathed in the river." Amy'd done it many times and learned to think of the icy water as invigorating. Still, a warm bath was one of the things she'd liked best about Seattle.

Meredith shuddered. "Many's the time I've bathed in the river. You'll have to do it, too. But not this first time-not when you're so exhausted from the trip and drained from the awful news."

The mention of her father twisted Amy's wounded heart. "Is Braden here?" She saw the curious gleam in Meredith's eyes and wished she'd held her tongue.

"Yes, he's staying with us, of course. He slept nearly as long and hard as you did. But he's already up and going strong. He's like his brother and mine when it comes to work. Our lives will be much easier with three men to do the heavy ch.o.r.es. It kept Tucker and Ian hopping to heat both cabins."

"You'll meet Tucker at dinner." Another gleam came into Meredith's eyes.

Amy could imagine what Meredith was thinking this time. The teachers at the mission had tried to persuade Amy to court. But she'd always planned to return to Alaska. No sense attaching herself to some man who might not want to come.

"I know you'll like my brother. We..."

Settling back a bit until Meredith wound down again, Amy enjoyed the talk of Meredith's family. A movement drew her attention, and she saw Braden standing in the open door, holding a steaming bucket in one hand and a large wooden tub in the other.

Amy reached quickly to tug on Meredith's sleeve. Meredith looked at Amy then turned to the door.

Rising from the bed, she said, "Bring it in, Braden. Don't let it cool.

Amy waited until she stood alone in her room then quickly prepared for her bath. She longed to soak her aching muscles, but there was too much to do for her to linger. She'd already wasted a good part of the day in bed. She could see by thesunlight climbing the bedroom wall through the window that she'd slept half the morning away. She finished her tub bath in mere minutes even with taking the time to unbraid her hair and wash it with the bit of soap Meredith had left.

Amy combed and braided her hair while it was still wet. She pulled her other dress out of her satchel and slipped it on, then washed out her clothes and draped them on nails on the wall. Then she stepped out to the main room to see if she could be of use.

The first thing Amy noticed was a lovely window in the opposite wall. Someone had taken time and love to create it. A gla.s.s window was hard to come by in Alaska because gla.s.s was so fragile. But this window had been made with bottles of different colors. A cross had been fashioned from deep brown bottles in the center of it. Amy had already sensed Meredith had G.o.d in the center of her life, and this window just made it all the more certain from whom this family drew its strength.

The front door stood wide open, and Meredith worked outside, leaning over a table.

Amy wanted to go to Braden and thank him for getting her here yesterday. She couldn't remember anything after she left her father's house. Braden had stepped in, as he had the whole trip, and taken care of her. She felt shy to talk to him for some reason, so she took a step toward Meredith and froze.

For the first time, she noticed the crates Braden had brought up the river with him. They were piled high throughout the cabin. Amy's eyes widened at the things that draped out of the boxes and sat here and there on the floor.

Pure garbage.

A white and gold china figurine of a fine lady, her hair piled high on her head, holding out her long skirts as if to curtsy. Bolts of cloth-pretty but lightweight and impractical. A set of gla.s.s dishes. Only a few plates and cups survived intact.

A mantel clock, large and ornate. Amy shook her head. The clock ticked away on the roughly built kitchen table that took up half the room. But what did time matter in Alaska? Time was simple: dark and light, winter and not winter. Besides, the Raffertys didn't have a mantel. She remembered the Simonovich cabin did. The beautiful mantel in her father's cabin had been carved by her grandfather. The contents of its hidden drawer might prove that her father hadn't sold the cabin.

She had to go back. She had to open that secret drawer. If her father had sold the cabin, the deed would be signed over to the new owner. If the deed still lay hidden in that drawer, then the man had taken the cabin and perhaps even killed her father.

A wave of grief stopped her from charging outside and heading straight for her father's house. She wasn't even sure how much farther they'd come upstream, although she had no doubt she'd find her way home without trouble. She needed to wait until she'd regained her strength, and she needed to repay the Raffertys for their kindness.

Amy walked outside in the spring warmth and sunlight, savoring the feel of a cool breeze against her damp hair. She noticed Braden splitting logs and approached Meredith. "Why is Braden doing that, Meredith?"

Meredith, standing over a cobbled-together table and slicing sheep steaks, straightened. "Call me Merry, please. He's chopping wood." Meredith smiled. "Who knows why? Ian told him to pick it up off the ground, but Braden seems determined to do it the hard way."

Amy glanced at the tidy stone fireplace on the side of the cabin. "What he's splitting is too fresh. If he picks up windfall branches, they're already cured. The fresh wood smokes."

Meredith, her hands covered in blood from her carving, looked a little pale, but she smiled. "We told him all that. He just said he needed to work off some energy, and it'd be cured by winter. Which is true. Ian told me to leave him to it. I think it has something to do with Maggie. He must need to keep busy."

"Who is Maggie?"

Meredith's eyes widened. "I thought you'd traveled here together. He said he met you on the ship."

"We did."

"He never told you that his wife died three months ago, giving birth to their first child?"

Amy's grief, fresh and deep, swept over her. She remembered that moment when Braden had faced her at Papa's cabin. She'd known he mourned someone. Tears burned her eyes. "No, he never told me."

Meredith shook her head. "I'm sorry to have spoken of it. You're thinking of your father now; I can see."

There was no time to spare for tears. Amy dashed to wipe them away then straightened her spine and turned to the day's ch.o.r.es. "Why are you having sheep again? It's tough, and they're heavy to cart home. The skins are nice, but I prefer bearskin or sealskin." Amy clamped her mouth shut, realizing she sounded rude. She'd always had trouble not speaking her mind.

Meredith calmly turned to a pail of water and washed her hands; then she took off her b.l.o.o.d.y ap.r.o.n and tossed it over a tree stump that stood next to her makeshift table. Without warning, she whirled around, launched herself the few feet separating her from Amy, and hugged her.

Amy staggered back. Her healing ribs protested, but she caught Meredith and hugged her back. "What is it?"

Amy looked over Meredith's shoulder and saw Braden pause in his chopping to look at them and arch an eyebrow. Amy shrugged.

Whispering, Meredith said, "I'm so sick of mutton I could die!" Her voice broke. Amy felt Meredith's shoulders shudder, and tears dripped onto her neck. Amy controlled the urge to smile.

Braden shook his head and disappeared into the woods, no doubt walking past perfectly cured wood lying at his feet to do things the hard way.