Brides of Alaska (11 page)

“Well, I have a gift for my daughter,” Vern said. He pulled several packages from beneath the tree and brought them to Julie.

“I feel like a little girl again,” Julie said as she hurried to open each one. She immediately recognized the gifts as pieces of her mother's prized jewelry collection.

“Jewels for my jewel,” Vern said and planted a kiss on Julie's forehead. “These were your mother's favorites.”

“Yes, I know,” Julie said with tears in her eyes. She held up a necklace against her white blouse. The gold of the chain and brilliance of the ruby settings looked good against Julie's dark hair.

“This was always my favorite one,” Julie added as she replaced the ruby necklace, “because you gave it to her for Christmas not long after I turned sixteen. I thought it was the most romantic gift in all the world.” She wiped at her eyes before looking into the other packages.

“Those pieces were some I thought you would enjoy. I thought I'd save the rest until you marry,” Vern stated, wiping tears from his own eyes as well.

“Thank you, Papa,” Julie said as she got up to retrieve her father's gift. “I'm afraid my present pales in comparison.” She handed her father the package.

“I've already got the best gift in all the world. You've come home to Alaska, and that's enough for me.”

As Julie watched her father unwrap the tools, she wondered if she should give Sam his gift. If she did and he hadn't gotten her anything for Christmas, he might feel bad. He might also take her gift the wrong way and think it was a promise of something more than friendship.

“Well, would you look at this,” Vern said as he held up a new hammer. “I can't believe it, but they're exactly what I need. I was planning on buying all of these.” Julie watched as he tested the blade of the saw and examined the chisel set. “Perfect!” Vern declared, and Julie leaned back, feeling quite satisfied.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Julie said as she got up and rushed to her room. She came back with the bundle that Tanana had given her. “These are from George's wife, Tanana. She thought I might not get a chance to do any Christmas shopping, and so she made these mukluks for me in pay for sewing up George.”

“Anything that woman makes is a prize to be sure,” Vern said as he undid the rawhide strip that tied the package shut. He examined the mukluks before passing one pair to August. “It also helps that she knows our sizes.”

“Well, this has been a fine Christmas,” Vern said as he stretched out his feet.

“Wait,” August said as he went to the tree. “There's another gift here. Who's this one for?”

Julie swallowed hard. It was now or never, she decided, and quickly answered. “That one is for Sam.”

Three pairs of eyes turned in surprise at her, and Julie wished she could crawl beneath the chair. “I never had a chance to properly thank him for all he did for me. Merry Christmas, Sam,” she said quickly to break the tension.

“Well, I must say this is a surprise,” Sam said as he accepted the package from August. He unwrapped the brown paper to reveal the knife and sheath. “It's exquisite,” he murmured as he examined the craftsmanship. “I've never had one as fine. Thank you, Julie.”

She blushed under the intensity of Sam's eyes. The silence was unbearable, and Julie searched her mind for something to say. “How about those songs, now?” she finally questioned.

“Yes,” Vern agreed, “now would be the perfect time.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“I'll get your guitar, Sam,” August offered and went to his room.

Sam studied the knife before sheathing it and looping it onto his belt. He was more than touched at Julie's extravagant gift. It signaled a change in their relationship. Had Julie come to approve of the idea of marriage? He couldn't wait until a time revealed itself when he could be alone and offer his own Christmas gift.

After several hours of listening to Sam and August, as well as joining in on all the songs they could think to sing, Vern suggested they read the nativity story. Everyone readily agreed, and while Sam continued to strum the haunting melody of “Silent Night,” Vern, August, and Julie took turns reading the second chapter of Luke.

When they'd finished, Vern offered a prayer and got up to stretch. “I think I'm going to retire, but before I do, I'd like to say something. I wasn't looking forward to this holiday. It was always Agneta's favorite, and I knew that it wouldn't be the same without her. But I was wrong. The celebration of Christ's birth isn't a matter of the house you live in or the people who share your table. It's a matter of the heart. If the Lord lives here,” Vern said as he patted his chest with his hand, “then Christmas is a matter of everyday life. Agneta would want it that way, too. Good night.”

Julie watched her father walk from the room. She admired his strength and, in it, found more courage for herself.

“Unless you need help cleaning up, I'm going to bed, too,” August said as he ran a gentle hand over the guitar. “This is a swell gift, Jewels. I'm going to enjoy it for a long, long time.”

“I'm glad you like it,” Julie said, getting up to embrace her brother. “You go ahead to bed. I can manage all of this just fine. Besides, I want to see if the aurora makes an appearance tonight.” August nodded, gave Sam a single-fingered salute, and took his leave.

Julie knew that Sam's eyes were on her even before she turned around. What would she say to him? How could she deal with the feelings her heart would no longer let her deny? She cared for Sam, that much was true. But how would it fit in with her nursing? Was it really love she felt or merely infatuation? Taking a deep breath, she turned to meet his eyes.

“Do you have to clear these things away just yet?” Sam asked as he came across the room.

“No,” Julie whispered. “I suppose they can wait.”

“Good, because I can't,” Sam said and took Julie in his arms. His kiss was as gentle as the first he'd ever given her, but the feelings he evoked in Julie's heart were so much greater.

After what seemed an eternity, Julie pushed away. “I can't breathe,” she laughed, trying hard to push aside the passion she was feeling.

Sam allowed her the space and led her to the couch. “I want to talk to you,” he said as he sat down beside her. “I have a Christmas gift for you.”

“You shouldn't have,” Julie said in a barely audible voice. Having Sam so close completely muddled her thoughts.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it for Julie and revealed a ring of gold, with a small diamond. “Julie,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”

Julie stared dumbfoundedly at the box. He'd actually proposed. None of his presumptuous attitudes or the self-assured cockiness that he'd delivered before, just the plain and simple heart of the matter. A marriage proposal!

“I don't know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Sam said as he took the ring from the box and slipped it on Julie's finger.

Julie stared at the ring for several minutes. It was a bit big, but it was exactly what Julie would have hoped for in a wedding ring.

“We've only known each other a couple of months,” Julie said, searching for a way she could avoid dealing with the issue.

“We both know it's right,” Sam said as he pulled Julie against him. “I love you, Julie, and whether or not you'll admit it, I know you love me.”

Julie trembled in Sam's arms. Her breath caught in her throat and made it impossible to deny his statement. Did she love him?

“I don't know what I'm feeling,” Julie finally answered honestly. “I won't deny the chemistry between us, but Sam, you weren't in my plans.”

“What about God's plans?”

“But I thought I knew what God's plans for me were,” Julie said, daring to look into Sam's piercing brown eyes. “I thought I knew exactly what I was supposed to do.”

“And now?” Sam questioned.

“Now,” Julie said as she took off the ring. “I feel confused. I can't marry you, Sam, unless I know for sure it's what I'm supposed to do.” She handed him the ring, expecting an angry retort. Instead, Sam surprised her.

Closing his hand around Julie's fingers and the ring, he spoke. “Keep the ring. I feel confident that God has sent you to be my wife. One day, you'll know it, too, and you'll come to me wearing it, and I'll know your answer.” With that, Sam placed a light kiss on Julie's forehead and got up. “Good night, love,” he said and left Julie to contemplate her feelings.

Julie held the ring tightly and prayed. “Oh God, what am I to do? I thought the way was so clear. You had shone a light of understanding on the path that I was to take, and I felt confident that I was making the right choice. Now,” she paused and looked at the ring. “Now, I just don't know. I'm so afraid, and I need to understand what I'm to do. I want to serve You, Father. I want to bring glory to You. Can I do this as Sam's wife?”

Several minutes passed. With the ring still in her hand, Julie retrieved her father's Bible and opened it to Joshua 1:9: “‘Have I not commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.'”

“I won't be afraid,” Julie said as she reread the verse. “You have commanded me to be strong and with Your help, Father, I will be.” Peace filled Julie's heart. “I don't know what the answer is regarding Sam, Lord. But You do, and I am Your servant, seeking to know Your will. Open my heart to Your direction, so that my own plans won't thwart the divine ones You have ordained for me. Amen.”

J
anuary 1925 started out cold, with the mercury dipping to thirty below zero. Julie took extra precautions to maintain warmth and safety on the trail by carrying more blankets, additional food, and dry fuel for fires.

She had read several articles in the
Nome Nugget
of the army's findings while experimenting with temperature in the far North. Apparently, it wasn't enough to calculate the outside temperature when determining how dangerous conditions were. The speed of the wind had to be considered as well. The army had concluded that, while a fifteen-degree temperature seemed warm to the natives of Nome, if the wind were blowing at ten to twelve miles an hour, it would feel more like forty below zero. Something called windchill, Julie remembered, and it could create problems for a person on the trail.

The snow had been sporadic that winter, and Nome's streets weren't buried as deeply as they usually were at the first of the year. Julie knew that however good conditions were in Nome, she had no way to tell what would greet her as she moved out across the less-traveled trails.

“We haven't had any traffic from the west or north,” she said as she finished her coffee one morning with Dr. Welch and his wife. “So I have no way of knowing what the trails are like.”

“I wish I could go with you,” Dr. Welch replied honestly. He loved to drive his dogs and found city life a bit stifling at times.

“Actually, I wish you could, too,” Julie said with a smile for Dr. Welch's wife. “I love to watch your husband at work, Mrs. Welch.”

“Now, Julie, I think we've been friends far too long to continue with the Mrs. Welch title. Just call me Lula; all my friends do.”

“I like to call her Lu,” Dr. Welch said with a fond smile for his wife, “among other things.”

“You're being quite impossible today, Dr. Welch,” Lula said with a teasing note to her voice. “You're probably better off with him staying in Nome, Julie. I have a feeling he'd want to wander off and do some ice fishing or visit, if he went on the trail.”

Julie laughed and glanced at her watch. It wouldn't be light for another three hours, but the trail beckoned. “I'm going to have to be on my way. Thanks again for the coffee, Lula,” she said, trying the name for the first time. “I should be back in a few weeks.”

Just then a loud knock at the door caught their attention. “A doctor's house is an open arena,” Lula said with a smile. “I'll just see who that might be.”

Lula Welch opened the door to reveal an Eskimo man. “I have sick children,” he said in a worried way that caused Dr. Welch to jump to his feet.

“What seems to be wrong?” he questioned the man, as Lula brought his fur parka.

“They're burning with fever, and their throats are sore,” the man answered.

“How old are they?” Dr. Welch questioned. Lula brought his medical bag and set it on the table.

“One's three, and my baby is only one year old. Can you help them, Doctor? I don't have much money, but I can work hard for you.”

Dr. Welch waved the man's concerns away. “Nonsense. We'll discuss such matters later. First, let's see if we can figure out how to help the little ones.” He planted a kiss on Lula's temple and turned to Julie. “You can always send me a radio message through the army signal corps, should you need anything or have a problem.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Julie said. She pulled on her parka and secured the hood. “Would you like me to drive you to the settlement?”

“No,” Dr. Welch said, shaking his head. “There's not so much snow as to impede a good walk, and I need the exercise. Thanks anyway.” With that, Dr. Welch hastened into the darkness with the fearful father.

“I guess I'd better be on my way as well,” Julie remarked. “I'll be in touch. Thanks again for the coffee.”

“We'll look forward to seeing you when you get back,” Lula said as she followed Julie to the door. “Be careful.”

“I will be,” Julie promised and took herself out into the darkness.

The town was quiet, even though there was plenty of activity. Julie felt an emptiness as she watched couples making their way into nearby shops. Maybe she wasn't cut out for public health nursing after all. While she loved nursing and working with the Eskimos, the long, lonely hours on the trail were difficult.