Free Mary Connealy by Golden Days Page B

day.”
    “You are working.” Amy talked to Meredith through the cabin window as she set the salmon steaks on to roast in the covered skillet. “You have almost finished that shirt for Braden.”
    The day before, Amy had hiked to the spawning beds and speared enough salmon to last a month. She’d cleaned them at the stream to keep from luring hungry grizzlies to the cabin, then dragged them home with a travois she rigged out of cedar branches. Hanging them high in a tree a good distance from the house so a bear wouldn’t get to them, she planned to spend the morning building a separate smokehouse for the salmon to separate the fishy smell from the bighorn sheep and other meat, then go fishing again in the afternoon. The salmon would run for two weeks. By the time they were done, she’d have enough to last the winter.
    She’d seen bear sign between the cabin and the stream and was tempted to go hunting. The fur and lard would come in handy, and she loved bear meat. But it would be wiser to wait until the end of summer for that, when the bear’s fur grew thick and its belly fat.
    “Ian loved his shirt, didn’t he?” Meredith got a faraway look in her eyes. Amy remembered Ian’s delighted thank-you to his wife when she showed him what she’d sewn. The affection between the two of them had awakened a longing in Amy, but for what she didn’t know.
    Ian had worn it for the very simple church service the Raffertys held each Sunday morning. Then, because the Raffertys kept the Sabbath and did no hunting or mining on Sunday, he’d worn it the rest of the day.
    Braden had attended the service, but he remained solemn and offered nothing when Ian read the Scripture. Amy was nearly brought to silence when Ian read the verse that she’d so studiously ignored when she’d headed north.
    Ian read from Isaiah the same verse Parson McGraw had read her when she lay mending in Seattle: “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
    Wait.
    How clearly she’d heard God’s urging. But what purpose did waiting serve? Her father was dead, and she needed to find out why and make sure justice was done. She turned her thoughts from that part of the morning’s message and joined in with the group’s discussion of God’s blessing. She heard an eagle cry overhead, and her heart pounded more quickly as the encouraging words from Isaiah settled in her soul. Yes, those words called her to wait. But they also promised strength to soar, to run, to walk and not faint. A request from God and a promise in return for obedience.
    Meredith needed strength. She needed to not be weary. With a sigh of relief, Amy claimed this verse for Meredith. It was good Amy had come to help out the family so Meredith could rest.
    After their day of rest, Meredith chose a length of fabric to make another shirt, this one for Tucker.
    Enjoying the feel of a piece of smooth, lightweight calico, Amy said, “I can’t believe Mrs. Rafferty sent all those bolts of cloth.” It served no purpose to make a dress of the calico. It wouldn’t protect against mosquitoes in the summer, and it was too thin to keep a body warm in the winter.
    “We could take it to Skaguay and sell it for a fortune.” Amy shook her head at the waste.
    “Well, we’re not. We’re keeping it all to ourselves. We’ll be the best-dressed people in Alaska. And what doesn’t work for clothing, we’ll use for curtains and tablecloths.” Meredith threaded a needle and knotted one end. She dug her needle into the soft flannel.
    Amy saw Meredith finger the red plaid and envied her working with the bright, smooth cloth. Then the smell of the salmon teased her nose—a delicious smell she’d missed—and she decided she had the better of the two jobs.
    Once the juniper berries were on to simmer, sprinkled with a bit of the precious sugar Mrs. Rafferty had sent, Amy