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Authors: Rosanne Bittner

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Chapter Six

Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.

—1 John 4:7

Seattle, August 11, 1898

E
lizabeth stood beside the railing of the
Damsel’
s main deck watching supplies being unloaded and a very few passengers disembark at Seattle. Even more men and supplies waited at the dock to board. Among those leaving the steamer were Tricia, Francine and Collette, who stopped at Elizabeth’s side for a moment before leaving the ship.

Collette wore a rather plain dress, but it was cut low enough to show sinful cleavage. “We’re going to find a doctor for Francine,” she told Elizabeth.

Elizabeth glanced at Francine, astonished at how young she, too, looked—as well as how pale, with dark circles under her eyes. “I hope you feel better soon,” she told the girl.

Francine nodded a thank-you and looked away, covering her head with a shawl. She left with Tricia, the only one of the three who appeared to be perhaps as old as thirty.

Collette patted Elizabeth’s arm. “Francine truly appreciates you praying over that poor little piece of life, and praying for her, too. I hope you don’t think too dreadfully of her. She’s had a hard life—never knew her father, and her alcoholic mother abandoned her when she was only ten. Her stepfather treated her…well…not like a daughter, that’s for sure, if you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth thought a moment, feeling ill when she deduced what the woman was trying to tell her. “Oh, how awful!”

“Well, honey, I don’t mean to upset you. I just thought maybe it would help for you to understand how some people end up the way they do. Say, how far into Alaska are you headed, anyway?”

Elizabeth’s emotions reeled with pity and shock, and she swallowed before replying. “Uh…Dawson—really it’s not Alaska at all—it’s up in the Yukon.”

“Oh, we know where it is. That’s where we were headed. Hey, maybe we’ll see you up there!”

Elizabeth wasn’t so sure she should be glad about that. “Yes, maybe you will. My brother is building a church there, and I’m going to Dawson to join Peter and help him with his ministry.”

“Really?” Collette looked her over. “Well, why am I not surprised? You’re such a nice, gracious young woman. By gosh, maybe we’ll find that church and go there—that is, if your brother would allow it.”

Elizabeth smiled, unable not to like the woman in spite
of her occupation. “He would never turn anyone away for any reason. He’s a lot like our father, who accepted all people. He was…killed while ministering along the Barbary Coast. His name was William Breckenridge. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Collette frowned. “Could have. I mean, I remember hearing about some preacher being killed.” She shook her head. “I’m real sorry to hear that, Miss Breckenridge. And I hope you have a safe trip to Dawson, but you should know how dangerous it is for you to be doing this alone. The girls and I would have gladly watched out for you, but we’ll be taking a different steamer the rest of the way now.” She glanced toward the upper deck. “Then again, I have a feeling somebody is already watching out for you.”

Elizabeth glanced in the direction where Collette looked, and there stood Clint Brady. She reddened and looked back at Collette. “I don’t even know that man. I mean…he helped chase down a man who’d stolen my handbag, but that’s the extent of it.”

“Well, the girls and I saw the whole thing. We talked to him briefly the day we all boarded the
Damsel
, and he told us about how you were traveling alone and that it worried him.”

“Why? He doesn’t even know me.”

Collette shrugged. “I expect he’s just the kind of man who hates thieves and the like—kind of a lawman at heart. He’s a bounty hunter, you know.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What?”

“That’s right. He showed us a drawing of the man he’s after, wanted to know if we’d seen him around San Fran
cisco before we left. He’s pretty darn sure the man is headed for Dawson, since that’s where he’s from. So, your Mr. Brady is going there to find him. There’s five thousand dollars on his head. Heck, it’s probably a quicker way of making five thousand bucks than panning for gold in that miserable back country.” She chuckled. “Anyway, he’s obviously a man who knows how to handle himself, so if he’s got an eye on you, that’s good.” Collette leaned closer. “And your Mr. Clint Brady is just about the most handsome specimen of man I’ve ever set eyes on.” She winked. “And I’ve set eyes on plenty!” She laughed then. “I wouldn’t be too quick to turn down his attention, sweetie!” She gave Elizabeth a quick hug. “You have a safe trip now.”

The woman turned and walked away, and a rather stunned Elizabeth watched after her. Again her thoughts whirled with indecision about people and God’s love and what the Lord expected of her. Was he throwing these people at her to teach her something? Thieves. Prostitutes. A bounty hunter! Didn’t bounty hunters search out men and kill them for money? What if the men they looked for were innocent? And even if they were guilty of whatever crimes they were accused of, what gave another man the right to pass judgment to the extent of shooting them down without a trial? How could one man treat another man no better than an animal, killing them as they would kill a beaver for its pelt?

No wonder Clint Brady had been unconcerned about whether the man who’d attacked her got out of the water! What would compel a man to have such little concern for human life? She watched the swarm of people on the
docks. From what she could tell, she just might be the only woman on the
Damsel
for the rest of the journey.

She drew a deep breath for courage. So be it. In spite of what she now knew about Clint Brady, she couldn’t help hoping, deep inside, that he really would look out for her.

Lord, what would compel such a nice-looking man who apparently cares about other people to be able to kill another human being for money? Have You brought Clint Brady into my life for a reason? How on earth can I be of any help to such a man?

She watched Tricia, Francine and Collette hail a horse-drawn cab and climb inside. Had she been of any help to them? Any influence? “God be with them,” she muttered. She looked around, catching a glimpse of Clint Brady talking to some other men. He was showing them something, most likely the drawing of the man he was hunting. “And be with Mr. Brady,” she added.

Chapter Seven

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

—St. John 14:6

W
here heaven begins.
That was how Peter had described this land, and Elizabeth was beginning to see what he meant as the
Damsel
chugged past some of the most magnificent scenery Elizabeth had ever seen. Because of the stale stench below deck, she’d spent most of the past three days above watching the landscape, often pulling her cape close around her against the cool, misty air. The weather had become totally unpredictable as the steamer moved through fjords bordered by mountainous islands that appeared to have no beaches. It looked as though the deeply forested slopes simply rose from the sea straight upward.

The mornings were chilly, often followed by a very warm midday as the sun appeared through the mist, and yet it could rain within minutes of sunshine, followed by
bright sun again. Every day it rained in spurts, and she had to keep an umbrella with her at all times.

Most of the almost crushing crowd of men on board seemed to have no interest in the gorgeous landscape beyond talk of how much gold lay beneath the distant mountains. She saw a different kind of treasure there, visions of God’s beautiful heaven. She realized how right Peter had been in saying that he would be needed at the gold seekers’ final destination, for surely there would be hordes of people there who might be hungry for God’s Word: people like Collette, who needed to hear about God’s forgiveness, men who needed to know that gold was not their God, and men like Clint Brady, who needed their hearts healed by God’s love.

Why couldn’t she get him off her mind? Why couldn’t—

“Miss Breckenridge?”

Elizabeth turned at the words, spoken in a deep voice, Clint Brady’s voice. A quick rush of cool air sent a shiver through her, and she drew her cape closer again as she looked up into steel-blue eyes. “Yes?”

He stepped up beside her and leaned on the deck rail. “I have to tell you that I was hoping you’d change your mind and get off at Portland.”

Elizabeth frowned in surprise. “Why? You don’t even know me. Besides, it’s really none of your business where I’m going.” She stood next to him, leaning against the railing. Both watched the deep-green mountains as the
Damsel
made its way through currently calm waters.

Clint paused long enough to fiddle with something. Elizabeth waited, not even looking at him, but soon she
smelled smoke as he let out a long, deep breath. She glanced at his hands hanging out over the railing, and noticed a cigarette between his fingers.

“Ma’am,” he finally spoke up, “I don’t think you have an inkling of what you’re in for. Even
I
can only guess, from what the rumors are. Either way, it’s not an experience for a proper young lady like yourself. A good deal of
men
who make this trip won’t manage to even get over the first pass to Dawson. The Canadian North-West Mounted Police are demanding that men tote a good thousand pounds of supplies, because last winter hundreds of men died either trying to get over the passes or from starvation on the way or once they reached Dawson. It’s a trip a lot of men can’t withstand, let alone a woman alone who doesn’t have near the necessary strength to tote a backload of supplies for hundreds of miles. And if that alone isn’t enough to make you turn back, you’re headed into country where you’ll often be caught alone with a pack of men who haven’t seen a woman for months. Even the most proper among them would be tempted to forget gentlemanly behavior.”

Elizabeth felt a warmth coming into her cheeks at what he was suggesting. “I told you before that God will provide. I trust Him completely, Mr. Brady. Somehow He will help me reach my destination safely.”

She heard him give an almost moaning gasp signaling his disbelief. He clearly felt that she was probably stupid and naive to believe what she was saying. He took another long drag on his cigarette.

“Perhaps you don’t know much about God and putting your trust in Him, Mr. Brady, but I—”

“Oh, I know all about those things,” he interrupted. “I know all too well about trusting God, and how He can completely fail you. Don’t preach to me, ma’am. I’m just trying to prevent you from suffering or maybe even losing your life, that’s all.”

Oh, the bitterness in his comment about God! What was the story behind this man? She remained confused about why he would care about her, and she again asked him that very question.

Clint shifted as though uncomfortable with the entire conversation. “Ma’am, I don’t even know why myself. I guess it’s because I had a wife once, about your age, and she met with a terrible misfortune. I saw you standing all alone on the dock back in San Francisco and have watched you ever since. I’m worried your simple trust in God is going to make you do something very foolish. It’s obvious you aren’t very well schooled in life in the real world, and since I don’t have much of anything else to do on this journey till I reach Dawson, I figured I’d occupy my time with looking out for you…kind of a leftover from not being there for my wife when she needed me.”

So, this had something to do with his wife. Was the life he led also related to what happened to her? She swallowed, not sure just what to say. “Well, Mr. Brady, if you want to go out of your way for me, I suppose I should tell you I appreciate it, but I certainly don’t expect it of you or anyone else. It’s very kind of you to think of me that way, and I’m deeply sorry for whatever misfortune hurt your wife. Is she well now?”

Another pause, another long drag on the cigarette. “She’s dead.” The words came flatly, angrily.

“Oh, I’m so very sorry. Truly I am.” It was all beginning to make more sense now. Was his wife murdered? Was he searching for her killer?

“I should have made that point in the first place.” He sighed and cleared his throat. “I, uh, just want you to know that if you need anything, you can ask. And if I were you, I’d pack some kind of handgun.”

Elizabeth had to smile at the very thought of it. “Mr. Brady, that would do me no good. For one thing, I can’t afford one, and for another, I wouldn’t use it anyway. I could never in my life shoot at someone.”

“Not even if they threatened to steal everything you own, or steal what’s most precious to you?”

“Most precious?”

She looked up at him curiously. He faced her and rolled his eyes, now appearing rather better-humored. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Elizabeth thought a moment, then turned away. “Oh!” She felt ridiculous, embarrassed, angry with him for mentioning such a thing. “God would never allow such a misfortune. Thank you again for your offer, Mr. Brady, but I’ll be fine.”

He leaned closer. “I meant what I said. Other men might offer the same thing, but I wouldn’t trust any of them, understand?”

She drew in her breath, drinking in a bit of courage along with it, and faced him again, hoping her cheeks weren’t too flushed. “And why should I trust you and not all the others?”

He looked her over in a way that made her feel safe and warm. It disturbed her to be unable to ignore the fact that
he was incredibly handsome. Wasn’t it sinful to notice such things about a man?

“Maybe because I’m the one who risked his life to help you out at the docks,” he told her. “I didn’t see anyone else doing that. Maybe because I’ve handled some pretty bad characters and know more about that than most of the men on this ship. Maybe because I know how to handle my fists and a gun, which I guarantee you are going to need before this journey ends. And maybe because your God intended for me to notice you. You said yourself that He would be sure you get to Dawson safely. Maybe I’m the reason.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and grinned. So, he
did
still believe, at least a little. “Are you saying
God
brought us together?”

He gave her a rather sneering smile. “If He did, it was because of you, certainly not because He cares anything about me.”

The door was open! “Oh, but He
does
, Mr. Brady. He most certainly does.”

Clint took one last drag from his cigarette and tossed the butt into the water. “No, ma’am, I don’t think so.” He looked around. “Look, there are only three more days left until we reach Skagway. Believe me, when we get there, you’ll be thrown into a wide-open, lawless, crowded, wild town where there won’t be one man you can trust, and the only women there will be like Collette and those other two who got off at Portland. And, by the way, you need to be careful who you’re seen with.”

“God loves everyone, Mr. Brady. I can do no less as
His servant. One of them needed my help. I could not turn her away.”

He folded his arms, giving her a stern look. “Do you really think that I or the other men on this ship didn’t know what was going on?”

Elizabeth’s patience was rankled. “It’s none of their business, nor yours! They asked me to pray for them, and so I did. I am
not
as naive as you think! My own father was murdered on the Barbary Coast, ministering to harlots and thieves and murderers! I know a little bit about the real world, sir, and I know that
you
are a bounty hunter! You hunt men down for money, so as I said, why should I trust you?”

Why had she said that? She hadn’t meant to. She wasn’t even going to bring up the subject, which she now knew surely had something to do with his wife! She saw hurt and anger in his eyes. She looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“No matter,” he said coldly. “I didn’t say I was any better than the harlots and murderers you just mentioned. I’m only telling you that I do care what happens to a young woman alone against the odds you’ll be facing. In fact, what I was going to say was that for what’s left of this journey, you’re welcome to use my cabin if you want. I hate to think of you down there with a bunch of men who haven’t bathed since God knows when and who I don’t doubt are using language you’d rather not listen to. But then since you’re more worldly than I thought, I guess it’s not so bad for you. And you wouldn’t want to stay in a cabin that’s been inhabited by a bounty hunter, now, would you? Enjoy the rest of your trip, Miss Breckenridge.”

He left her then, and Elizabeth wanted to kick herself.
He’d given her an opening to help him learn about God’s love, and she’d missed it! She’d let her own pride and orneriness get in the way. She leaned over the railing again, putting her head in her hands.

Oh, Lord, forgive me! I failed You miserably!
Clint Brady had offered to help her, protect her, give up expensive quarters for her, and she’d behaved abominably. What a fool she was! And what a poor servant of the Lord!

BOOK: Where Heaven Begins
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