Jim looked down at his wife and saw that although she had leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes, big tears were creeping down under her lashes and trickling unheeded down her cheeks.
“Evelyn!”
She opened her eyes and he saw mirrored there all the sorrow and compassion her generous heart felt for her friend. With an exclamation he leaned forward and gathered her up in his arms. They sat quietly together for a long while before Evelyn broke the silence.
“Do you think she’ll go to Anchorage, Jim? She has never talked much about the time she spent with Charlie’s sister, but I got the impression she wasn’t happy there.”
“I don’t know if she will go to Anchorage or not. I do know she can’t stay here alone. Good Lord! It’s ten miles to the nearest neighbor. She may be twenty-five years old, but she’s as innocent as a babe. Every single man within a hundred miles will be finding an excuse to come by here.”
“And a few that are not single,” Evelyn asserted dryly. “She’s been here with Charlie for about six years, hasn’t she?”
“Ever since she left the convent school, except for the few months she spent in the city with Charlie’s sister. Charlie taught her a lot about how to take care of herself, or he wouldn’t have left her here alone for a week or two at a time. Of course Tim-Two was here to look out for her while he was away.”
“I forgot all about the Indian. You’ll have to tell him.”
“Yes, I know. He’s been with Charlie for a long time. He came here one winter about half starved to death. Charlie took him in, and he’s been here ever since. I haven’t any idea how old he is, but I imagine he would be a pretty wicked enemy.”
Evelyn laughed softly. “Just to look at him scares me. That one eye of his that goes off in the other direction gives me the willies!”
Jim stood up. “I’ll go talk to him. Make some coffee, will you, honey? I think we should leave Molly alone for a while. She’ll come out and talk when she’s ready.”
He went through the kitchen and out the back door toward a cabin that was set about a hundred feet behind the house. Tim-Two had built the cabin himself. It was small, tight, and really quite ugly, like the man himself.
Evelyn busied herself about the kitchen. She stoked up the big wood range and set the granite coffeepot on to perk. She looked around the neat room. Nicely built cabinets lined one wall, with a stainless steel sink set into the middle of the counter top. A hand water pump was perched on one end of the sink. The big cooking range dominated the opposite wall; shiny black, with touches of blue on the big oven door at the bottom and on the doors of the two warming ovens at the top. The hot water reservoir was on one side of the range and the woodbox on the other.
She sat down at the trestle table that divided the kitchen from the living room, and let her gaze wander over the cozily furnished room. A stone fireplace, big enough to accommodate a six-foot-long log, took up the entire end of the room. In this cold country heating was a main concern, and heat from the fireplace and the cooking range in the kitchen kept the rooms comfortably warm. Evelyn knew, too, about the potbellied stoves in each of the two bedrooms. There was a rocking chair on one side of the fireplace and a comfortable pillow-lined couch on the other side. In between the two was a bright braided rug. The pillows, curtains, Charlie’s pipe on the table, all caught Evelyn’s eye as she looked about the room. Molly had done a good job turning this old barn of a cabin into a home; not fancy by city standards, but very comfortable. The girl was a natural homemaker, no doubt about that. It was unfair that she would have to leave it all.
Molly lay on the bed in her room, arms under her head, dazed eyes focused on the ceiling. Dry eyed, now, thinking about the big, burly dark-haired man that was her father. When her mother died, the nature of her father’s work had forced him to make arrangements for her to be cared for in a convent school. From the age of six her life had been regulated by the strict nuns. When she reached the age of eighteen, she had about decided to enter the cloister because she knew of no other kind of life. Disturbed about the step she was considering, Charlie took her out of the convent and brought her to Anchorage to live with his sister. He wanted her to have a taste of living in the outside world before she turned her back on it forever.
Molly endured the time she spent with Aunt Dora and her cousins like a prison sentence. Fashion and the social life of Anchorage was their life and from the beginning she had felt oddly out of place in their home. After two months she longed for the quiet of the convent and begged Charlie to let her go back there if he didn’t want her to share his home in the bush. The happiest day of her life was when she packed her things and Charlie loaded them in his old pickup truck and headed north. That was almost six years ago and Molly could count on one hand the times she had been to the city since then.
Charlie had been afraid that the wild north country would be lonely for his only child, but she took to the life like a duck to water. Her natural instinct for making a home exerted itself and she plunged into the work with vigor. The first few months she scrubbed, cleaned, painted, and hung pictures. She made curtains and slipcovers for the couch and chairs. The delighted Charlie let her have full reign of the house and was constantly amazed at all she could do. The sisters at the school had trained her well in the art of cooking, as Charlie discovered to his pleasure, and he wondered how he had ever gotten along without her.
Lying there on the bed, Molly thought about the love her father had for his work and that now he would never finish the job he had started. He loved Alaska and spent many evenings discussing with her the potential of the country. He was the country’s foremost authority on ice age mammals, and his research had taken him to every part of the great Alaskan tundra. What would happen to his work now that he was gone? He had colleagues, but Molly had met few of them. He mentioned their names from time to time, but she didn’t think he worked closely with them because he preferred to work, for the most part, alone. She wondered if she should contact one of them and offer her father’s files. Well—she would have to think about that for a while.
She gave a deep, dejected sigh and slipped off the bed. Many things would have to be decided, but not now. There would not be a funeral service for her father, but a memorial service would be held later on and she supposed she would have Aunt Dora to contend with and she wasn’t looking forward to that.
Glancing about the room, Molly caught her reflection in the mirror and was surprised she looked no different than she had yesterday after all that had happened. The outside of her was still the same, but the inside was totally different. She wondered if anyone else in the world felt as empty as she did.
Having no exalted opinion of herself, Molly was completely unaware of her beauty, although she realized she was prettier than some girls. A few of the men that had come to call on her cousins had looked at her in a friendly way, but her shyness had prevented her from making friends with any of them. Her cousins hadn’t seemed anxious for her to mix socially with the crowd they ran with. This hadn’t bothered her for they all seemed to be quite frivolous.
Jim and Evelyn were sitting at the trestle table when Molly came out of the bedroom.
What a totally feminine girl she is,
thought Evelyn. Her small five-foot three-inch body was slim but softly rounded. She was an elfin-type girl who moved lightly on the ground as if her feet were skimming the surface. The honey-colored hair hung almost to her waist and she wore it now in one long, loose braid hanging down her back. Occasionally she wore it in a neat braid on top of her head and it made her look like a small girl playing dress-up. Violet eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, were set into a face that had known very little makeup. Her good health gave her the soft, clear skin and the slight rosiness to her cheeks. She had no vanity about her eyes or the soft mouth that was quick to tilt into a smile. Molly Develon was a very pretty girl; not only pretty on the outside but on the inside, as well. Being shy and sweet-natured, she would never knowingly offend anyone.
Evelyn jumped up and went to the range. “Sit down, Molly, I’ll get you some coffee. Jim will be leaving in a few minutes.”
She set the coffee cup in front of Molly and went around the table to sit on the long bench beside her husband. He put his arm around her and she snuggled close.
“Don’t think you need to stay with me, Evelyn. I’ve been here alone many times.” Molly’s voice was soft but controlled.
“I’m staying and that’s the end of it,” Evelyn said firmly.
“Of course she’s staying. I’ll get all the more lovin’ when she comes back to me.” Jim’s attempt at light banter brought a smile to his wife’s face.
“Don’t let him fool you, Molly. He gets his share of lovin’.”
“Yes, I know, and I do appreciate you doing this for me.”
Jim reached across and took Molly’s hand. “Molly, there isn’t a person south of Fairbanks who wouldn’t have broken their necks to do something for you. You’ve endeared yourself to all of us. We all want to help, you have only to ask.” Tears came to her eyes, she swallowed the lump in her throat, but said nothing. “If you agree,” Jim continued, “I’ll arrange a memorial service for Charlie day after tomorrow. Herb Belsile, Charlie’s attorney, and I will take care of everything.”
“That’s kind of you,” Molly murmured. “Perhaps you will notify Aunt Dora in Anchorage?”
“Sure. Now . . . there are a few things I would like to say before I go,” Jim said kindly. “Herb will be out in about a week to see you. He knows Evelyn will be staying here with you and he seems to think he should come out here rather than you going into the city to see him. I don’t have any idea what provisions Charlie made for you. Herb will have to tell you that. But Molly, honey, you can’t stay out here alone this winter.” He paused and Molly’s heart gave a queer little jerk. “What I’m trying to say is this. In the next few days try and get yourself in the frame of mind to accept whatever Herb has to tell you. Charlie will have left you financially secure, but he wouldn’t have wanted you to stay here alone.”
Molly’s breath caught and she stared at him. It hadn’t occurred to her that she wouldn’t stay here; this was her home.
She said, with a catch in her voice, “I love this place. I don’t want to leave it. The happiest years of my life were spent here.”
“You’ll have to be practical, honey. It would be dangerous for you to spend the winter here alone.”
“I’ll have Tim-Two and if Dad left me money, I’ll hire someone to come and stay with me. I have the citizen’s band radio and the snowmobile.”
“You’re very capable, Molly, but think of this. A lovely young girl here alone, miles from anyone except an Indian of undetermined age. While Tim-Two is devoted to you, and would defend you with his life, it’s still too great a risk for you to take. The ratio of men to girls in this area is about ten to one, and the ratio of pretty young girls to men is greater than that. Men from miles around will be dropping by when they learn you are here alone, and some of them could be pretty obnoxious. Think about it, Molly.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hands. “Let’s don’t worry about it now. You know Evelyn and I would be happy to have you with us, that is, if you could stand two wild Indians ages four and six.”
“Thank you, Jim. I know you’re thinking of what is best for me, but try to understand. This is the only home I’ve ever known and if I must leave it, it won’t make the slightest difference where I go . . . Anchorage, Fairbanks, or New York City. My heart is here.” Molly looked up, her violet eyes bright with unshed tears. “Until I came here, I had spent my life in a convent school except for the two months with Aunt Dora. I don’t think I could bear to leave this place. I love the tall pines, the spring flowers, the snow, the wildlife, and my dog. I could never take Dog to the city, Jim. I’ll do anything to stay here!”
Jim sighed and told her he understood how she felt. He didn’t realize it at the time, but in the next few weeks he would remember those words: “I’ll do anything to stay here.”
After Jim took his leave, the women sat quietly, listening to the sound of the motor as the plane circled the house and headed back to Fairbanks.
Molly sat in the rocking chair by the fireplace, the chair she occupied most evenings. Evelyn found herself busy answering calls on the battery-powered radio. The news about Charlie was out and it seemed everyone within radio range wanted to offer their condolences. Molly heard Evelyn say over and over again, “Thank you so much, but . . . no, I don’t think she needs anything. Yes, I will tell her. I’ll be staying with her for a while. Jim will be getting in touch with you regarding the service. Thank you, I’ll give her the message. No she hasn’t made any plans.”
How thankful she was for Evelyn. Molly sat and rocked. Her thoughts raced.
Dad . . . how I’ll miss you. We had such a short time together. What will I ever do without you? I must not feel sorry for myself; I must think clearly and figure out a way to stay here in my home. If only I could find someone to stay with me, but not many people want to spend a winter in an isolated place such as this. It will be lonesome here without you, Dad, but not as lonesome as it would be if I were in the city . . .
Hearing a faint scratching sound, Evelyn opened the kitchen door to admit a large shaggy dog. He walked across the room to where Molly sat in the rocking chair and laid his head in her lap. He looked up into her face with large adoring eyes. She reached out her hand and stroked his head.
“Hello, Dog,” she said softly. “You’ll miss him too, won’t you, fellow?”
The back door opened once again and the Indian, Tim-Two, came noiselessly into the kitchen. He checked the water reservoir on the cooking range, then the big woodbox beside the stove. He placed several armloads of neatly cut logs by the fireplace, then knelt and built up the fire. The evenings in the north woods were cool. The Indian didn’t look at Molly; he seldom did. As he passed her chair he placed a hand lightly on top of her head and she knew he had been told about her father. He had never touched her before. Tears came again to her eyes and at that moment she felt closer to that old Indian man than to anyone else in the world.