The Alaska Brides Collection Part 73

August shook his head. "I'd like to hear Gerald give grace, if you don't mind."

Beth nodded, thinking how smoothly August had avoided having to pray.

"Dear G.o.d," the boy began, "this is Gerald Hogan. You have my daddy in heaven with You, and I want You to tell him that August is going to be our pretend daddy. Tell him we still love him, but we need a daddy on earth."

Gerald's words cut deeply into Beth's heart. She'd tried so hard to be mother and father to her sons and never once thought of the void in their lives.

"And G.o.d," Gerald continued as an afterthought, "thanks for the food. Amen."

Beth opened her eyes to find August's gaze fixed upon her. She returned the stare while the boys, mindless of the exchange, helped themselves to bread and jelly.

Beth's expression was almost one of pleading, August decided, but for what? Was she fearful that he'd hurt her young boys, or was she more frightened of how his "pretend fatherhood" might affect her? She looked so young and scared. August wished he could ease her worries.

Without thought, he reached out and placed his hand over hers and gave a squeeze. Then just as quickly, August turned his attention to the food and found himself in an intense conversation with Gerald about the new highway.

A strange sensation crept over Beth. Her heart pounded at the thought of August touching her, yet her mind screamed betrayal. She mindlessly pushed her food around the plate, all the while considering the implication of August's role playing. It seemed such a reasonable arrangement, yet for all she was worth, Bethany couldn't comprehend why.

Chapter 5.

August's work with the Alaskan/Canadian Military Highway project took him away from Beth and the boys for long hours each day. Often when he arrived home it was all he could do to clean up before dropping into bed. Gerald and Phillip grew impatient for his company, but Beth faithfully explained why it was necessary for August to spend so much time away from them.

The combined efforts of the United States and Canada resulted in the scheduled creation of a highway that would cover more than 1,486 miles, from Dawson Creek, British Columbia, to Fairbanks, Alaska. Calling it a highway was an optimistic overstatement. The road was clearly nothing more than a bulldozed path through an unyielding wilderness.

Never intended to do more than provide emergency access to the north should the j.a.panese cut off the water and air routes, this road of mud and ice quickly became a problem of outrageous proportions.

Frozen subsoil, permafrost, muskeg, and long hours of sunlight created problems that made engineers throw up their hands in frustration. Coupled with the fact that there were inadequate supplies and living accommodations for the eleven thousand troops, most of whom were from the southern United States and completely unacquainted with the cold temperatures that seemed to come at will, the highway quickly became a matter of man against nature.

Canada provided access to the lands through British Columbia and the Yukon Territory, as well as much of the needed building materials. All of this was given in exchange for unlimited use of the road following the war.

As engineers and administrators brought their plans together and fine-tuned the design of the project, it was determined that over 130 log and pontoon bridges would be needed to accommodate the hundreds of rivers and lakes that the highway would have to cross.

Added to this were some eight thousand culverts to be dug and reinforced to combat the constant drainage problems created by the swampy soil.

Behind the frustrations of a seemingly endless number of new problems was the threat of j.a.panese invasion of Alaska. Though few knew of the plan, military experts had found a way to decode j.a.pan's messages in time to learn of Alaska's vulnerability to attack.

Even as far north as the rural villages of Alaska, and perhaps because such vulnerability seemed evident, the mood was one of hushed and guarded silence.

Beth's ten-room boardinghouse was rapidly becoming a common meeting place for the army leadership and the Public Roads Administration. If the weather was cooperative, the group usually a.s.sembled outside, where August had placed a number of crudely built tables and chairs. Other times, however, the weather was rainy or cold, and Beth allowed the men to take over her living room while she and the boys holed up in her bedroom.

Glancing outside, Beth could see that the day's weather would allow for an outdoor gathering, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The meetings always made her rather uncomfortable. She never could figure out what disturbed her most: the presence of uniformed men or the worry that military secrets might fall upon the ears of her children, only to be carelessly babbled later.

She finished pulling the last of five wild raspberry pies from the oven as August came striding into the room.

"Ummm, smells wonderful, Beth. Don't suppose you're going to let me buy them for our meeting?"

"What else would I do with five pies?" Beth asked, chuckling. "Are you certain the men will reimburse you? I can't charge you two dollars a pie in good faith if I have to worry that you'll be out the entire amount."

"They stand in line to pay me," August said with a grin and added, "and at thirty cents a slice, they're going out in good shape, and so am I. Helps me pay the rent," he teased.

"I keep meaning to talk to you about that," Beth said as she smoothed back her blond hair and reinserted one of the combs that held it back at the sides.

"Great," August said in a mocking tone of dissatisfaction, "I suppose my rent is about to go up."

"No, not at all," Beth said, mortified that August would tease about such a thing.

"Relax, it was a joke, Beth," August said as he eyed the young woman seriously. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I can't see you having to pay as much as everyone else when you help out so much around here. I mean, you cut most all my wood, you mended the fence and the roof, not to mention that you worked up the dirt for my garden. It's only fair that I offer you some type of compensation."

August smiled and wondered if Beth could begin to imagine the type of compensation he'd like to redeem from her. The fact was, he was growing more attracted to the young widow and her sons each day.

"I'm sure we can work something out," August finally said. "But if you're doing it for my sake, then stop worrying. I'm grateful for the time you allow us to meet and disrupt your home in order to coordinate plans for the road."

"I don't feel it's adequate compensation," Beth interjected. "I'd like to at least reduce your rent. If you have something else in mind, I'm open to suggestions."

August grinned and pushed back his black hair. "Well, an occasional hot meal might do the trick," he said, knowing that he couldn't very well come out and say that he'd like to spend more time getting to know her.

"That seems a simple request," Beth said, realizing how pleasant it would be to have August at her table. "But not an occasional meal. I think it's only right that you share all our meals, if you want to. I'll even pack you a lunch if you'd like."

"You'll spoil me," August said, laughing, "but I'll enjoy it while you do. I'd be quite happy to accept your offer, Bethany."

Beth smiled nervously and made a show of rechecking the oven as if a pie had been inadvertently overlooked. She knew that August was attracted to her, yet she hadn't decided if she liked the idea or not.

It had been over a year since JB had died and longer than that since she'd seen him, but the ghostly image of her husband was never so haunting as when Beth felt the cold, gold band that still adorned her finger. Perhaps when she was ready to put away that last reminder of her marriage, she would be able to deal with the interest of another man.

"Well, I'd best make sure everything is ready for our meeting. The army's bringing the coffee this time, so we shouldn't have any trouble staying awake long enough to resolve any new differences. I'll be back for those pies in about an hour, if that's all right with you."

"They should be cooled by then," Beth said and offered August a smile.

August nodded and left Beth to the task of cleaning up. Beth watched through the window as several army vehicles pulled into her yard, unleashing a throng of uniformed men and a large coffee pot.

A knock on her front door sent Beth to answer it. She opened the door to find two young soldiers looking rather sheepishly at her.

"May I help you?" she questioned softly.

"Ma'am, we're here helping with the road," one of the men began as if Beth wouldn't already be privy to the information.

Beth nodded and the man continued.

"Well, me and Ronnie here, we've been coming to these meetings, and well, ma'am," he stammered for just the right words.

"Go on," Beth encouraged sweetly.

"Well, it's like this. We've been eating your cakes and pies whenever Mr. Eriksson offers them for sale, and we surely do miss our mom's cooking. Army grub just ain't anywhere near as good."

"I'm sure that's true," Beth said, suppressing a laugh.

"We was wondering, hoping really, that we could pay you to make some of our favorite sweet potato pie. We've managed to get our hands on some canned sweet potatoes, and while they won't be near as good as fresh, we'd be mighty happy to pay you to bake us however much it would make. In the way of pies, that is."

Beth felt sorry for the boys. "I'm not sure I have a recipe for sweet potato pie," she said honestly.

"It's pert' near the same as pumpkin," the other boy offered. "But I reckon I can get you a copy of the recipe from somebody."

"Well then, you get me the recipe, and I'll be happy to make your pies. One thing, though, I use mostly honey, due to the shortage of sugar. If you don't think the results will be as good, we'd probably best call off the whole arrangement right now."

"No, ma'am," the first soldier offered. "Whatever way you make it will be just fine. We'll be back when we can bring you the recipe and the sweet potatoes. How much you gonna charge us for the pie?"

Beth thought for a moment. "I think a dollar would be a fair amount," she answered. While she charged August two dollars for most of her pies and cakes, she knew he easily made his money back. These boys, however, were not going to be making much profit because Beth was certain they'd be eating most of the pie themselves.

"Sounds just fine by us," the one called Ronnie said as he looked at his friend. "They charge us nearly that much for a single piece at the cafe in town, and the army could never make anything as good as what you serve, ma'am."

"Well, I appreciate your compliments, boys. Now you'd best get around back, because I've a feeling the meeting will be starting shortly, and tonight we're having raspberry pie."

"Yes, ma'am!" they answered in unison and hurried to the backyard.

"So our biggest problem at this point," Ralph Greening was explaining, "is the need for a much larger airfield in order to bring in the bigger planes and more supplies."

"It's not just a problem," an army colonel offered. "It's imperative that we have this runway."

"I understand the need, gentlemen. However, the land around us is most uncooperative. We have a tremendous problem with the permafrost. I've asked August Eriksson to address this problem and to let you know about the progress we've made. August, go ahead."

"As we've cleared land for the runway and grated the sphagnum moss from the topsoil, we've run into the constant problem of ground thaw. The moss has always acted as an insulator that keeps the subsoil frozen and firm. When the moss is removed, we get a swamp."

"But we have to have that runway," the colonel insisted.

"I realize that, Colonel, and if you'll hear me out, I'll explain how we're combatting this situation. By experimenting we've come up with a plan that seems to be working. First, we skim off the topsoil and moss, allowing the ground to thaw. When this next layer of ground has completely warmed up, we grate off another portion and allow this section to thaw as well. We do this over and over until what we have is an excavation several feet deep.

"Next, we fill this area with sand from the river bottom. This sand allows the subsoil waters to rise to the level of the surrounding ground's water table. Then, due to the freezing temperatures of the soil, this water freezes and becomes a rock solid surface, while the sand acts as an insulator. This should then allow us to put the regular asphalt ap.r.o.n on top and leave the surface fixed and st.u.r.dy year-round."

"Ingenious," the colonel said, offering his first positive word. "Has it been tested?"

"Yes," August replied, feeling rather proud of himself. "It has, and with the exact results we'd hoped for. Our only holdup is waiting for each process of ground thaw. Other than that, we would have the main runway completed in a very short time."

"Might the usage of steam from a portable boiler speed up this process?" the colonel questioned.

"That is a possibility," August said with a nod toward Ralph Greening. "I'm sure my supervisor would be happy to discuss the matter with you."

"Most a.s.suredly," Ralph answered.

"I believe," the colonel said with thoughtful consideration,"we could offer the use of such army equipment when it's not being used for other purposes. Will you have enough manpower for the job?"

"We've hired many of the locals for additional help," Ralph Greening replied. "We're paying a dollar an hour, so pa.s.s the word among the civilians as you're out among them. The more hands we have, the quicker the project will be completed, and we'll be able to get those big transport planes in here."

"The Northwest Transport Command will be grateful for that," the colonel said as he sat back in the chair for the first time.

"I'm sure many of the Tanana people will be happy to help," one of the local men who'd been working with August spoke up. "I know these Indians, and they are good people."

"We'll take them all," Ralph said. "Anybody and everybody. If we're to have this road in place by fall, we can't be picky about who works and who doesn't."

"Well, I'd say the situation is well under control," the colonel remarked. "Now, how about one of those delicious desserts that Mrs. Hogan makes for us?"

August smiled and got to his feet. "It's raspberry pie tonight, and you all know the price. Just take up the collection, and I'll borrow a couple of your men to help me bring out the goods."

Instantly the men began reaching into their pockets. As a hat was pa.s.sed, the money was eagerly handed over. August grabbed the nearest two men and quickly returned with the five pies. The hat was pa.s.sed to August, as the men gathered around waiting patiently for their pie. Shortly after the food was gone and the coffee drained, the meeting ended and the satisfied men returned to their tents for some much-needed sleep.

August counted out ten dollars for Beth and pocketed the other two. He was tired, but grateful that it was Sat.u.r.day. He'd managed to wrangle the following day off and hoped that somehow he'd talk Beth into a picnic with the boys. He was considering just how he might ask her, when Beth appeared to reclaim her pie tins.

"Looks like the meeting was successful," Beth said as she stacked the pans.

"Yes, very," August agreed and added, "Do you have to rush right back?"

The light was fading, and in the twilight that filtered through the tall birch and spruce trees, Beth's face seemed shrouded in the shadows. Still, August could see that she liked the idea of remaining.

"I can stay for a little while, although I hate to keep you up," Beth said, putting the pans down and taking the seat across from August.

"That's one of the reasons I asked you to stay," August replied. "I have tomorrow off and hoped that maybe you would agree to picnicking with the boys and me."

"That sounds like a lot of fun," Beth admitted. "Perhaps you would accompany us to church first." She knew August avoided any reference to such things, but she wanted to find out why he was hesitant when it came to G.o.d.

To August's own surprise, he agreed to go. "I suppose that would fall into line."

"Church is at eleven, so you should be able to sleep late. I'll try to keep the boys quiet."

"No, don't," August answered. "I want to get up early and play with them."

"I appreciate the way you look after them. I've never seen them so happy. They care quite deeply for you," Beth said softly. "I hope you realize how much they adore you."

"I do," August said and leaned forward. "Does that worry you?"

"I suppose it does," Beth replied. "They suffered the loss of their father, and then I uprooted them and moved them here. They need to feel secure about their home and the people they care about."

"Do you think I'm incapable of offering them stability in our friendship?" August questioned seriously.

"Not really," Beth said thoughtfully. "I suppose my real concern is that soon the road will be completed and you'll be on your way. I know that would be devastating to them."

"Who says I'll be on my way? If I have something to stick around for, I can't see giving that up," August whispered in a low, husky voice. He wondered if Beth would understand his meaning.

"I think as long as you want a reason to stay, you'll have one. The boys are devoted to you, and I want..." Beth grew uncomfortable and got to her feet. "I'd better clean up this mess."

August got up and moved behind Beth. "I'd rather hear you finish that thought."