Page 16 of Thunder Pass

“Giving away Chilkoot secrets, are you?”

“I’m a Chilkoot, so it’s my secret, too.”

Martha gave her a shrewd look. Even though her face was weathered from sun exposure, all the lines on her face were from smiling or laughing. Martha was the kind of person who was exactly where she wanted to be, doing exactly what she wanted to be doing. Ruth envied her from the bottom of her heart.

“Chilkoots don’t usually leave the fold. Elias is the only one I can think of. Have you thought about going to him?”

“Yes. But I’m pretty sure that’s the first place they’d check. I don’t want to put Elias in that position.”

“But you want to put me in that position?”

Ruth’s stomach twisted and she felt suddenly sick. She was asking Martha for a lot here, and they didn’t even know each other very well. Over the years, she’d traded with Martha—wool in exchange for fabric—and always found her to be down-to-earth and direct. But as for a friendship, that would go against the Chilkoot way. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m…”

“You’re desperate,” Martha said flatly.

Ruth nodded miserably, but then some hidden part of her that she hadn’t even known existed rose up. She straightened her spine. “But not too desperate to figure something else out. I have a lot to offer for any farmer or rancher. So does Sarah. If any trouble comes your way, we’ll leave immediately. We won’t expect anything from you.”

Martha swatted away an early morning mosquito. “I usually keep my distance from the Chilkoots. I don’t trust them, especially after what happened last year.”

“I understand. But I knew nothing about any of that. Luke didn’t trust me, even before Daniel and I…” She shifted gears, because thinking about Daniel right now might make her cry. He’d begged her to run away with him, but the thought had seemed unfathomable. “You don’t have any workers right now, do you? I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Not yet, but I have a couple of woofers starting soon.”

“Woofers?”

“Willing workers on organic farms. They work a certain number of hours a week in exchange for room and board.”

“We could be woofers!” Ruth said eagerly. “How many hours are required?” She gave a quick calculation of the time she’d spent working at the Chilkoots compound. “Eighty hours a week?”

Martha burst out laughing. “Try twenty.”

“Twenty. Twenty?” Ruth stared at her blankly. “How do you get anything done?”

“They’re not here to work full-time. They’re here to see Alaska and maybe learn a few things.” Martha folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Ruth. “But we’re not talking about them. We’re talking about you. Why’d you leave?”

“Sarah,” Ruth said immediately. “The way Luke was talking, we were afraid he might want to marry her off.”

Martha’s face tightened. “A little young, isn’t she?”

“Sixteen.”

“Hm.” Another long stare from those wise eyes of hers. “That’s not the whole reason, though, is it? What else?”

A breath of wind whispered through the grass tussocks outside the fence line. One of Martha’s sheepdogs came loping across the field, like a large animated mop with its long ropes of shaggy white hair. Ruth struggled for the right answer. Was there a right answer? Would Martha’s decision hinge on what she said next?

No, only the truth would do here. But Ruth wasn’t accustomed to telling other people about how she felt. It felt strange and terrifying, as if a lightning bolt would strike her down the second the words left her mouth.

Do it anyway.

“When Luke got arrested, it was scary at first, having to be the one making decisions and taking responsibility. But I guess I got used to it. Now that he’s back, he wants everything to be how it was. I just…I don’t think I can do that. I tried,” she said anxiously, bracing for Martha’s judgment. “I went back to homeschooling the younger kids and I did whatever Luke asked, even if in my heart of hearts I disagreed with it. But…” She trailed off, feeling like a traitor for voicing these thoughts. “I didn’t like it. I told myself I’d get used to it, and that the kids needed me right where I was, and that was more important than anything else. But then, with Sarah…”

“You wanted to protect her,” Martha finished for her. “So that was the last straw. You wouldn’t have left if it was just for you.”

“Probably not.” Utterly miserable now, Ruth stared at the ground between her feet. “I must sound like a coward to you.”

“No.” Martha gave her a friendly little punch on the arm. “You sound like a caring person who’s trying to figure out the right thing to do for all the people around her. Let me ask you something. What makes you happy?”

“What?” Ruth looked at her blankly. “What do you mean?”

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