Page 44 of Ice Falls

“It wasn’t about the mine and how the Ahtna never got a dime from it? That’s what I thought. He was really into indigenous rights.”

Apparently there was such a wealth of interesting stories in this area that no one was exactly sure which one Daniel had chosen.

Did Ruth know? If only she could figure out a way to talk to Ruth. Should she order a quilt? She could call up Naomi and say she was interested in a redhead-themed quilt. A whole quilt with nothing but redheads. Ginger Rogers, Lucille Ball, CarrotTop, Haley Williams from Paramore, maybe a male cardinal and an orange tabby cat for some animal kingdom representation.

No phone at the Chilkoots, she remembered. It was too far for her to run, especially through bear territory. She’d have to either borrow a truck or see if Sam wanted to make another trip out there.

Sam, who was ignoring her for some reason.

The trees thinned out as she ran the last few hundred yards into a small clearing with a log cabin that must be Daniel’s. She slowed her pace, then came to a stop, panting heavily, as she surveyed his domain. A stillness hung over the clearing, as if everything had simply been frozen in place when Daniel had left.

To one side, she noticed a woodshed, nearly depleted, and a stump surrounded by wood chips. A maul was embedded in the block, its handle nearly upright.

A well-worn path led to an outhouse with a crescent moon cut into the door, either for decoration or venting or both. Another path wandered into the woods, where she could hear the trickling sound of a creek. Water source?

Daniel had worked hard here, she could see. He’d created a fenced-in garden plot that he hadn’t had a chance to plant yet. There was a swing, nothing more than a wooden plank and a length of rope, hanging from the sturdy branch of a birch tree. Had he pushed Ruth in that swing? Had he dreamed about children, about raising a family here in this tranquil spot in the wilderness?

Sadness overcame her as she stepped toward the front door of the cabin. Daniel had traveled all the way to Alaska to start a new life, to give himself a fresh start. And he was making it work. He should be here right now, opening the door with that big happy grin and ushering her in for some of his homemade kombucha or whatever.

No lock, just like the trapper had said. She pushed open the door and blinked in the dimness, giving her eyes a chance to adjust. When they did, she froze. There was a person lying on the couch, covered in a blanket. She couldn’t make out any details, gender, age, dead or alive, anything like that. Maybe it was just an illusion, a pile of blankets Daniel had left behind.

Of course, that must be it. She shook herself back to sanity and strode toward the couch, which looked like it had lost all its springs and sagged in the middle. She grabbed the blankets and yanked them away from…

A kid. A teenage boy, who jerked in panic and rolled off the couch, landing sprawled at her feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t tell anyone. Daniel said I could sleep here if I ever needed to. It’s not trespassing if he told me I could, is it?”

“Well, I’m not familiar with Alaska state law, but…”

“Law? You’re going to tell the law?”

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay. You’re not in trouble, at least not with me.” She was worried more for him than about him. He looked absolutely terrified. Was he a runaway? Why would he need to sleep at Daniel’s…

She could think of a number of reasons, none of them good. Hell, she’d lived some of them. She smiled at the boy, who’d managed to corral his long legs under him and was attempting to get to his feet. She offered her hand, which he took, then dropped as soon as he reached the couch.

“Let’s start at the beginning. I’m Molly.”

He focused his gaze on her for the first time, and she got the sense that he recognized her.

The boy didn’t give his name in return. She didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have either in his situation.

“I can’t say that I’m a friend of Daniel’s, since I only met him once. But it seems that you are. I’m very sorry about what happened.”

His mouth twitched as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. At least he wasn’t running away. If he did, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“I’m trying to help Daniel with something.”

“Help him? But he’s?—”

“I know. But he had a dream that I can maybe help come true anyway.”

“You can’t.” He looked down at his lap, giving her a chance to really look at him for the first time. He was maybe fifteen, she guessed. Gangly, as if he’d recently shot up in height. He was rubbing his thighs, almost compulsively. His hands were strong and callused. He probably chopped wood and ran snow machines like everyone else around here. And his hair…

Her observations stopped there. His hair, which she’d first read as brown, was actually a dark, deep coppery red.

This kid was a Chilkoot.

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