The Alaska Brides Collection Part 71

August looked up from the paper with a grin. "I was just thinking that myself. This road will change Alaska's destiny forever. They're bound to make us a state after this."

"It's an awful long ways off," Sam said, wondering if August was seriously considering the job.

"Maybe it's just the right distance to start a new life," August said as he refolded the paper. "I'm going to do it, Sam. I'm going to go build me a road and change my own destiny."

Chapter 3.

Beth Hogan worked the dough that would soon be delicious loaves of wheat bread. The kitchen already boasted the aroma of wild berry jelly cooking down, and Beth was grateful for the extra warmth of the stove. The day had turned chilly as a mountain thunderstorm hovered in the distance.

Taking a moment from her task, Beth looked out the window to check on her sons. They were playing happily in the backyard, mindless of the threatening storm. At three and five, the boys were growing up almost faster than Beth liked to see.

Glancing past the boys to the mountains that lined the southern horizon, Beth smiled. There had been so much uncertainty when she'd left Canada the previous year, but when she'd stepped from the plane and viewed the panoramic glory, she had declared this piece of Alaska heaven on earth and arranged for a home for herself and her children.

The land hadn't disappointed her, nor had the people. She had been eagerly welcomed into the caring arms of neighbors and new friends, including an elderly woman who most called Granny Gantry.

Granny had a run-down roadhouse, catering mostly to those who traveled the worn path that residents called a road. While spending the winter of 1941 under Granny's protective wing, Beth had learned a great deal.

Day after day, Beth helped to transform the roadhouse into a prosperous business by adding homey touches. She made rag rugs for the floor and sewed new curtains for the windows. It wasn't long before Beth was even a fair hand at chopping wood and patching walls.

Granny had been pleased with the additional help and company. She seemed to thrive on spoiling the boys by making them special treats. Granny was also a source of Christian fellowship, and Beth relished their times of devotions when the older woman would share her views and knowledge of G.o.d.

When Granny pa.s.sed away suddenly in the spring of '42, Beth again felt the pain of separation. She quickly purchased the property and continued to run the roadhouse, but it wasn't the same without Granny's smiling face.

Shaking off the past, Beth took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the children. They were so little and innocent, but she knew it would only be a heartbeat and they'd be grown. She wondered if they'd be called to war as had so many other mothers' sons. She'd already lost a husband to war; would she lose her children, too?

A cold, ominous cloud had settled over the country since the attack on Pearl Harbor, and there wasn't a citizen from Nome to Tok who hadn't felt fear. The entire world was at war, but Alaskans felt the distance between their homeland and the j.a.panese empire narrow considerably as rumors of impending attacks ran rampant.

Deaths mounted on both sides, each fighting for what they believed to be right. How long would they battle? How many would have to die? No doubt many more would give their lives before the evil that surged throughout Europe and Asia was taken captive and defeated.

Wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n and seeking to put thoughts of death and war from her, Beth returned to kitchen ch.o.r.es. Business was booming with the arrival of the U.S. Army. They'd come to build a road, a road that everyone said would protect Alaska from the j.a.panese and one day link the territory to the rest of the world.

Newspapers throughout the nation boasted stories of the undertaking. They likened it to pioneer trailblazing and merited the army with the civilizing of the Alaskan territory. Surveyors were already placing their marks upon the land at Beth's front door.

Now that the national eye was turned upon the rugged wilderness of Alaska, Beth Hogan had little trouble keeping her children fed and clothed. Instead of a roadhouse where people stopped only on their way to somewhere else, Beth found her home becoming a boardinghouse where customers stayed on a more permanent basis.

The onslaught of new business also helped Beth keep her mind occupied. She still thought of JB and the empty place that his absence had created in her life, but the memories didn't cause her as much pain as they had at first. Sometimes she could laugh or smile at a pleasant memory of her husband.

She kept the picture of JB in a prominent place in the living room, and whenever the boys asked her questions about their father, Beth would try to share bits and pieces of his life.

Just then, Gerald came bursting through the door. "Momma! Momma! Guess what!"

"Calm down, Gerald, and lower your voice," Beth said sternly. She kneaded the bread dough into loaves and placed them in greased pans. "Now, take a deep breath and tell me what you're so excited about."

"I saw boats way down the river. Can Phillip and I go to town and see them up close?" Gerald was still panting from the excitement and his run up to the house.

"Absolutely not," Bethany answered. She turned and put the bread in the oven, unaware of the look of disappointment that crossed Gerald's face. "Haven't I told you boys how dangerous the river is? You mustn't go there alone."

"But it looks like fun, Momma. Please let us go see the boats," Gerald begged.

"No, Son. You have to obey me on this because it's very important," Beth said as she knelt beside her five-year-old. "Do you understand?"

"Uh-huh," Gerald replied as he nodded his head. "It's important."

"Yes," Beth said as she tousled the child's brown hair. "It's very important. I know you're a big boy and you by yourself might do all right down by the water, but Phillip is too little and he might fall in. As his big brother, it's your job to see to it that he's safe-especially since your father isn't here to watch over him."

"Will Daddy see me watching my brother?"

"I imagine so," Beth said as she straightened up and lifted Gerald into her arms. "I love you both very much. Now, why don't you go outside and keep an eye on Phillip for me?"

"Okay," Gerald said and placed a big kiss on his mother's cheek. "I'll be a big help."

"I'm sure you will be." Beth kissed her son and put him down. As he bounded out the door, her mind filled with worry. Had she said enough to prevent Gerald and Phillip's wanderings? She loved them so much, but then she'd loved JB even more and it hadn't kept him from adversity.

She went back to work with her mind only half on her tasks. She nearly burned the bread and scorched the jam, all the while thinking of how vulnerable her children were. Finally, Beth took herself to her writing desk and pulled out a Bible.

"Lord," she prayed, "I know that worry won't save them, but You can. Father, I can't imagine how You ever sent Your Son, Jesus, to a world You knew would hurt Him. I fear letting my sons from my sight for even a minute. I can't bear the thought that they might get hurt or killed. Please watch over them and care for them. I know JB is in heaven, Lord, and that gives me comfort, but please let me keep my children here with me and let them be safe in my care. Let me be a wise mother, G.o.d."

She opened the Bible and scanned Psalm 127:3-5: "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them...."

Beth smiled, remembering that these verses had been some of JB's favorites. He'd always planned to have a big family, or a "full quiver," as he'd often teased.

"These children are gifts from You, Lord," Beth said with confidence. "I place them in Your hands, Father, and I ask for Your protection of them. Amen."

Glancing at her watch, Beth realized that she was falling behind schedule. Leaving her worries at the feet of her Lord, she returned to her list of duties.

Late that May, August arrived in eastern Alaska. He was more than a little anxious about applying for work on the highway. Even though he'd heard they'd take anyone who could work, August still felt the sting of the army's earlier rejection and wondered if the rumors were true.

August gazed across the valley where rows of tents had been erected to house the army. Beyond these were olive-drab vehicles and heavy construction equipment. The entire landing buzzed with activity while soldiers and civilians rushed to accomplish the business of the day.

After questioning one of the pa.s.sing soldiers, August made his way to the tent of the commanding officer.

"You need to speak with the area supervisor of the U.S. Public Roads Administration," the officer told August. "I'm certain, however, that you won't be idle for long. We can use every man we can get."

"Glad to hear it," August said and got up to leave. "I'm anxious to get to work."

"Then you're in the right place," the man said from behind his makeshift desk. "You can find the supervisor at the airfield. While we're clearing this path, we're also laying out new landing strips. Just follow the river to the crossroads and turn right. It's just a half mile or so from there. Like I said, you shouldn't have any trouble getting a job."

"Thanks again for your help," August said and left in search of the airfield.

As August walked the short distance down the river to the crossroads, he noticed how different the land was from his native Nome. The fertile valley made Nome seem barren. Tall spruce, fir, and pine weaved a rich green pattern across the land. Wildflowers and carefully tended gardens were visible reminders of the sun's power in a land that enjoyed over eighteen hours of light each day.

August had already been told of cabbages weighing nearly forty pounds and of cuc.u.mbers that were longer than a man's arm and nearly as wide around. It was a land of many wonders, and August was only beginning to learn of its richness.

The hike to the airfield did him good, and August breathed deeply of the storm-chilled air. All morning, thunder had rumbled in the distance, but the storm seemed to hang in suspended indifference over the snowcapped mountains.

As August approached the airfield, he discovered that it was hardly more than a cleared path. At one end a windsock had been erected on a pole, and at the other end several tents and wooden buildings stood in sorry contrast to the grandeur of the landscape.

"Excuse me," August said as he approached a mechanic. The man was working on a large tractor, cursing and throwing tools as he did so.

"Whadyawant?" the man asked, garbling the words together.

"I wondered where I might find the supervisor for the Public Roads Administration," August replied.

"Over there," the man said, motioning to the nearest tent.

August thanked the man and walked toward the tent. Suddenly, an older man charged out, nearly colliding with August.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for work on the road," August explained.

"We can use you," the man said enthusiastically. "Come on inside and we'll talk. Have you any particular job experience that might help us decide where to place you?"

"I can operate most of the machinery," August admitted. "I helped to build roads in Nome."

"So you know the problems we're facing with the permafrost." The man continued without waiting for August to reply. "We have approximately eighty days between frosts and little more. Even at that, a foot beneath the surface the ground is always frozen solid."

"I know the dilemma well," August said.

"The army is in charge of the road, although the Roads Administration has some control because we work in cooperation with one another. Right now, a big part of our civilian effort is aimed at meeting the need for a bigger airfield.

"Our problem is the complications with ground thaw and boggy surface water. Do you think you can render any new thoughts on the matter? With you being an experienced road builder in these conditions, I think you might have a suggestion or two that we haven't considered."

"I'd be happy to offer whatever knowledge and experience I have. I'm too old for the army, or I'd be off defending our country in the war, so I'm open to whatever you have for me," August answered.

"Great. You can start tomorrow. Be here at six and I'll show you around."

"I'll be here," August said as he followed the man outside. "Where can I find sleeping accommodations?"

"That's a good question," the man said as he thoughtfully considered the matter. "I take it you didn't bring a tent with you."

"Nope," August said with a sheepish grin. "I figured you folks were more civilized over here."

"Don't include me in the folks from these parts. I'm from Oklahoma, and this country's a whole sight different from what I'm comfortable with. Your best bet is to ask around town. Some of the folks are bound to have an idea."

"I guess that'll have to do," August said with a nod.

"Wish I could offer you more help, but I've only been here a week, myself."

"No problem. By the way, I'm August. August Eriksson."

"Good to meet you," the man said and extended his hand. "I guess we're a little lax on formalities around here. I'm Ralph Greening, the area supervisor for the U.S. Public Roads Administration."

August shook the man's hand, and after renewing his promise to return at six the next morning, he made his way back to town.

At the crossroads, August noticed that the storm had dissipated and moved to the east. The clouds cleared out to make the vibrant colors of the landscape come alive.

August enjoyed the breeze through his dark hair and the scent of pine as it penetrated his senses. He marveled at the blackness of the glacier silt dirt and wondered at the stories he'd heard of a glacier's ability to physically move its location as much as ten feet a day.

Before he turned to head back to town, August paused long enough to glance down the picturesque winding road. It might be a good place to call home, he thought.

A child's shrill scream filled the air and caught August's attention. He listened again, thinking it came from the direction of town, but soon realized it came from down the road in the opposite direction. The intensity of the child's cry for help sent August in a full run down the riverbank.

Gerald Hogan stood on the small wooden bridge that crossed the river nearly a quarter of a mile from his home. "Help! Help!" he screamed. "My brother can't swim."

August arrived in time to see a small, brown-haired child slip beneath the churning water. Without thought for his own safety, August rushed into the river and swam with the current to catch up to the flailing form.

The icy water bit into August's skin as he maneuvered himself better to take hold of the little boy. He stretched out his hand as the child came within reach, only to hit a boulder. The impact sent him careening away.

August knew he'd have to fight with all his strength to once again reach the drowning boy. He lunged forward in the water and grabbed hold of the boy's collar, pulling the child back against his chest.

Fighting the current, August moved toward sh.o.r.e, where the water was more shallow. He pulled the sputtering, crying child with him. Once he reached the riverbank, August fell back against it, breathing hard. Every muscle in his body ached from the stress and cold, but the child was crying and that meant he was alive.

"Are you my daddy?" Gerald asked from overhead.

"What?" August asked in surprise. Drenched and freezing, he was certain he'd misunderstood the boy's question.

"You are my daddy!" Gerald yelled with exuberance. "Mommy! Mommy!" He ran off in the direction of home before August could stop him and set him straight.

Getting to his feet and cradling the cold, crying boy to his chest, August followed in the direction Gerald had disappeared.

"Mommy, come quick. It's Daddy!" Gerald yelled as he ran through the roadhouse's front door.

Beth came rushing from the back room. "What are you saying, Gerald?"

"Phillip fell in the river, and Daddy jumped in after him." The excitement in Gerald's voice left Beth little doubt about the truth of his statement.

"Take me to where Phillip is," Beth said without thought of reprimanding the disobedience of her sons. "Hurry, Gerry. Take me to your brother."

"He's all right, Momma," Gerald said as he led the way. "Daddy came back. Daddy saved Phillip!"

Beth shook her head, unable to understand. "Daddy is in heaven," she said as she took hold of Gerald's eager hand.

"I know, but you said this was heaven," Gerald stated. "Remember? You said this was heaven when we moved here. I knew my daddy would come home."

Beth's heart ached. How could she explain the misunderstanding to her excited fiveyear-old? She was torn. She had to a.s.sure herself that Phillip was safe and alive, but she was also concerned that Gerald accept the truth of his father's death.

Taking her eyes from her son, Beth lifted her gaze to see a dark-haired man approaching down the road. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat faster. From a distance, she could almost believe that JB was walking toward her.

Beth stopped in her tracks, while Gerald pulled at her arm. "Come on, Mommy. It's Daddy and Phillip," he insisted.