Dreamkeepers (22 page)
A
LWAYS, IN THE
Alaskan country, there is the wildlife. Virtually no day passed without a succession of wild creatures coming within viewing distance of the house. They had been a constant source of delight to Molly; the deer, elk, moose, sly fox, porcupines, and the black and grizzly bears that lived in the valley.
Molly’s Siberian husky, fondly called Dog, never seemed to learn that he made the porcupines nervous and after more than one encounter came home bristling. Molly kept a pair of pliers handy for pulling out the quills. She liked to think Dog was smarter about frightening off the black or grizzly bears, a potential hazard in the summer. Usually, the bears were looking for food and probably wouldn’t bother you, but Charlie had warned her of the danger and she would scurry into the house or take refuge in the woodshed when one came near. Dog would dash back and forth, keeping his distance, barking ferociously until the bear, tired of the racket, went on its way.
Their land, bordering a twenty-acre lake, lay alongside the right-of-way of a highway that came south out of Fairbanks. The highway was a mile beyond that. In the summer supplies were brought in on the floatplane that landed on the lake eighty yards from the house. During the winter months they came by rail or ski plane. Orders were mailed or sent via the wireless radio to Fairbanks or to Anchorage and when the store had filled the order and was ready to send it, they would broadcast the news over a daily radio program of personal messages for people living in the outlying areas. Listening to this program was also a good way to keep up with the local happenings. When they heard, “freight for Develons leaving tomorrow,” Charlie, Tim-Two, and sometimes Molly would head for the rail line where the freight would be dropped. The trip was made by skis, snowshoes, dogsled, or snowmobile, whichever the load demanded. Charlie kept a four-wheel drive vehicle in a shed along the highway, but the uncertainty of getting the motor started and road conditions made that means of transportation unreliable.
Snow cover lasted from October until May or early June. Winter was a lonely time, especially during the coldest spells. The vast area around the cabin would seem lifeless except for the birds. The gray jays and the gay little chickadees would find their way to Molly’s feeder and would scold noisily when it was empty. The small, furry animals kept out of sight, burrowed deep in the snow, coming out only when their empty stomachs demanded food.
In the evenings, when it was cold and dark and the wind was howling, Molly or her father would stoke up the fire in the huge fireplace and put a record on the battery-powered stereo and listen to Beethoven, Bach, or, occasionally, to a Nelson Eddy ballad about the frozen North. With the records and plenty of fresh reading material Molly and Charlie had been content.
In the winter the moose would move out of the hills into the woods about the cabin. During the hunting season Tim-Two would shoot a good sized one to be butchered for the winter supply of meat. Hanging the carcass in the woodshed, the below zero temperature would keep the meat, and from it Molly would cook delicious steaks, roasts, and stews.
In summer, with the snow gone, the long daylight hours would bring a frenzy of activity. Tim-Two would replenish the wood supply, and you could hear the ringing of the ax and the buzz of the chain saw for days. Molly would get the “berry picking fever” and collect blueberries, raspberries, cranberries, and currants. She would make fresh pies and cobblers as well as can countless jars of jams and jellies.
Being out in the woods in Alaska in the summer meant having to contend with the pesky mosquito, but they soon got used to covering themselves with insect repellent before leaving the house.
It was a lovely way of life and Molly wanted no other. She wanted to live the rest of her life here in this house in this valley. Like all girls she had dreamed of falling in love, but in her dreams the husband and children lived with her here in this place.
Jim came for Molly and Evelyn the day of the memorial service for Charlie. Landing the floatplane on the lake they boarded from the small dock Tim-Two had put in for that purpose and for Molly to use for fishing. The trip and the service were an ordeal for Molly. Not being used to meeting people she found it difficult to greet and respond to her father’s many friends who came forward to speak to her. Knowing she was being observed, she kept her head down and her eyes dry, holding her grief until the time she would be alone.
Strangely Aunt Dora posed no problems, probably thinking Molly was of age and she would no longer need be concerned with her.
Jim suggested that Molly spend the night at their home in the city. Molly consented to this knowing how much Evelyn wanted to be with Jim and the boys. However, no amount of talking could persuade her from returning to the cabin in the bush.
For the next few days Molly tried to put Herb Belsile’s visit out of her mind. Although she kept the house spotless most of the time, she and Evelyn went over it together and the task kept Molly’s mind busy as well as her hands. They made repairs on Molly’s limited wardrobe and sewed several shirts for Evelyn’s boys.
When Molly thought about it, she chided herself for her lack of faith that her father would provide her with the means of staying in her home. Knowing how he loved her, she was sure he had made arrangements that would make it possible . . . and yet the anxiety struggled painfully in the back of her mind, and even that was partially blocked out by her overwhelming desire that, in spite of all the reasons Jim had given her for leaving, she would stay.
On the morning of the attorney’s visit the house was filled with the delicious aroma of fresh baked bread and apple pie.
Evelyn laughingly said, “Jim will follow his nose right to the house.”
With beef roast and potatoes in the oven, Molly took time to freshen up before their guest arrived. She bathed her face and slipped on a soft blue blouse and matching skirt. She wrapped her shining braids around her head and slipped her feet into slim heeled pumps. On an impulse she applied a touch of lipstick to her lips. “Dutch courage,” she told herself. With that thought, she turned back to dab a small amount of perfume to the base of her throat. She wanted this meeting to be over as she had never wanted anything else since the whimsical desires of her childhood. It was ridiculous, of course, because her father would have planned what he thought was best for her. She could almost hear his reassuring voice saying, “It will be all right.”
Jim’s voice was coming in on the citizen’s band radio. “KGF-1452 . . . calling KFK-1369 . . . come in, Evie baby. Your ever-lovin’s callin’ . . .”
Grinning, Evelyn picked up the microphone. “Jim, you idiot, everyone within fifty miles is listening!”
“Ten-four, Evie baby,” Jim’s voice came back. “What’s wrong with them all knowing I’m your ever-lovin’?”
“Nothing at all, but the radio is supposed to be used for business and not for . . . horsin’ around.”
“Yes, I know. You are my business, Evie baby. See you in a few . . . KGF-1452 mobile down and clear.”
Molly heard the plane go over the cabin and a few minutes later it landed on the lake. The girls threw light sweaters over their shoulders and went out onto the porch.
Jim was striding purposefully up the path. Molly was surprised to see two men following Jim. She knew the shorter, heavier man was Herb Belsile, her father’s attorney. The other man was some distance away, but Molly was sure she didn’t know him and guessed he was one of Herb’s assistants.
Herb approached Molly, holding out his hand. “Hello, Molly. I’m sorry we are meeting under these circumstances. Please accept my deepest sympathy. Charlie was one of my best friends.”
“Thank you, Herb.” Molly gave him her hand. “Do you know, Mrs. Robinson, Jim’s wife? She has been kind enough to spend a few days with me.”
Evelyn was standing in Jim’s embrace, but extended her hand to Herb.
“Nice meeting you, Mr. Belsile. Molly and I hope you men are hungry. We’ve been cooking up a storm.”
The third man had not come forward to be introduced. He was standing back, feet braced apart, staring at Molly. He was casually dressed in tan twill pants and a tan and green ski sweater. Molly looked at him and thought him handsome. He was looking directly at her and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were luminous black, and like his mouth were just there in his face, grave, quiet, and bitter. They remained on her and Molly found herself caught in a silent waiting game with him. Slowly those shining, bitter eyes looked over her from the crown of her head to the tips of her shoes, and back to her face. Her eyes flicked up warily and she looked straight in the dark fire of his eyes. His mouth went colder and he nodded his head in greeting, against his will, or so it seemed.
Molly held her breath until her chest hurt, then breathed deeply when his eyes left her. He had measured her with his eyes for some purpose known only to himself, had estimated her, and found her lacking. A tightness crept into her throat. She merely stood there, hands at her sides, endeavoring not to clench her fingers with nervousness. He was the type of man to judge one on first impressions, she decided, with a mental sigh. At least it seemed to her that was what he was doing, because his dark face was wearing a positively thundercloud look.
Herb was talking to Jim and Evelyn so Molly stole another look at the man. He was tall, very tall, with a broadness to go with it. He had dark hair that curled down on the collar of the turtleneck sweater he wore. He had a dark face, a tight jaw, and a bleak mouth.
He doesn’t like me,
she thought suddenly,
and how foolish of me to care.
With that she turned back to Herb.
“Oh, Molly,” he said, “this is Adam Reneau.”
Molly glanced at the man and nodded, but did not offer her hand. She turned from him and led her guests into the house.
Jim kept up a lively conversation with Evelyn while they set the meal on the table. Occasionally Molly glanced at the man. She had a feeling his eyes missed nothing as he looked around the room. An uneasy feeling came over her that this stranger was assessing her home. Something akin to panic made her heart pound and she felt a compelling urgency to get this day behind her.
During the meal Molly made little contribution to the general conversation. She was content to listen as voices echoed around and above her. She kept her eyes on her plate and tried not to look at Adam. The one time she let herself look at him she found the dark eyes watching her intently without much expression in them. Her chin tilted slightly and she said with a cool dignity that surprised her:
“Would you like some pie, Mr. Reneau?”
She served him silently, determined not to speak to him again unless it was absolutely necessary.
“Very good pie, ladies,” Herb said. “Very good. Don’t you think so, Adam?”
“It’s delicious, Mrs. Robinson.” His voice was deep and soft, not at all the tone he had used with Molly.
“Oh, I can’t take any of the credit.” Evelyn gestured with her fork. “Molly baked the pies.”
“Is that so,” he said dryly, making it a statement and not a question.
“Oh, my, yes!” Evelyn rambled on. “Molly can cook circles around me any day. Charlie was proud as punch at the way Molly could cook. Why—” Suddenly she was aware she was embarrassing Molly when the color came up to flood her face.
“Is that so?” Adam Reneau said again flatly.
“Well, now . . .” Herb started to stand up.
“Sit right here,” Evelyn insisted. “I’ll clear off these dishes. You’ll have plenty of room to spread out your papers and things. Jim and I have things to talk about. We’ll take Mr. Reneau out and show him around.”
“That’s kind of you, Mrs. Robinson, but Adam will have to stay. What I have to tell Molly also concerns him.”
Molly’s eyes flew to Herb’s face. Her future having something to do with this cold man?
Impossible! And if Herb thinks he’s going to turn my affairs over to this . . . man, I’ll soon straighten him out about that.
She blinked, opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it after one quick glance at that horrible man’s disgusted expression. She compressed her lips and cleared the dishes from the table and carried them to the sink. When she returned, she sat down at the table opposite Herb. Adam Reneau took the chair at the end of the table between the two of them.
Herb got out his briefcase and piled papers on the table. He shuffled them around several times. It seemed to Molly he was ill at ease. He cleared his throat while going through the papers and beads of perspiration popped out on his brow. He was definitely uncomfortable and Molly’s anxiety grew.
“Molly,” he said at last. “Adam already knows the contents of your father’s will and that is the reason he came here with me to explain it to you. But first, I want you to know, I did everything I could to talk Charlie out of this plan. When he first brought the idea to me six months ago, I told him then I thought it was an out and out harebrained scheme. Although, I can understand, to a certain extent, why he did it, even if you and Adam won’t.” His voice took on a pleading note. “He loved you more than anything else in the world, Molly. After you, he loved his work. I think he thought that by bringing you and Adam together he was doing his best for both you and his work.”
“What does he want me to do?” It was strange and frightening to ask the question.
Her face was so full of anguish Herb’s heart went out to her. He placed his hands over hers on the table and said as kindly as he could: “Your father wants you to marry Adam.”
The surprise of his statement took her so completely, she went white and stared at him in terrible silence. Her body went rigid, her face set. Her lips moved, shook, and fell apart.
“I don’t believe it . . . Dad wouldn’t!”
Her tortured eyes turned to Adam. Resentment. It was there in the grim line of his jaw and in the bitter unsmiling eyes. He leaned back in his chair, his grim face tight.
“It wasn’t my idea, Miss Develon.” The mockingly drawled words were like a slap in the face.
