hers with an intensity she couldn’t stand.
Alicia rushed to remove the other boxes from the mesh bag. Then she walked toward him, holding it out. “Thanks for lending me this.”
“You’re welcome.” He took the bag from her. “I know it’s none of my business and this probably isn’t the time, but I’ve been wondering how you first came to Churchill.”
“I came here looking for someone,” she said after a moment of quick thought. She could hardly tell him she’d been following a lead Nancy’s private investigator had found regarding her child. It didn’t matter anyway. “I didn’t find them.”
“But you stayed anyway?” he said, one eyebrow raised.
“After some persuasion.” She needed to frame her words carefully so she didn’t give too much away. “Do you know Lucy Clow?”
“Small woman, white-haired? She and her husband were missionaries to the Inuit?” he muttered, his forehead pleated. “I think she helps Laurel’s cook at Lives sometimes.”
“Lucy helps everyone, whether they want it or not,” Alicia said with a grin. “Anyway, an older couple owned this store, but they wanted to take a trip to see their son in Australia. Lucy was their bookkeeper. She suggested I help here until they returned. She showed me how things worked and got them to fix up the rooms above for me to live in.”
Her home. Alicia still savored the small sanctuary she’d found. But she could hardly tell him that.
“So they didn’t come back?” Jack drawled.
“Oh, yes. But just long enough to pack. They moved to be near their son. The community didn’t want the store to close because it was such a good tourist stop. Since the owners wanted to leave, they and the community worked out a no-interest loan for me to buy the store.” She fiddled with an arrangement on a side table. “A couple of friends staked me and Lucy helped me fill out government grant forms. And here I am.” She held out her arms. “This is my third year running Tansi.”
“Good for you.” Jack kept staring at her for a long time. Alicia shifted under that intense stare, relieved when he checked his watch. “Giselle will kill me. I told her I’d be back with the truck to pick up our stuff. That was ages ago. See you.”
Alicia nodded and held a smile in place until the door closed behind him. Then she let out a sigh and pushed away all tantalizing thoughts of the handsome policeman as she continued unpacking her treasures in between clients.
When her last customer had left, she went into the back room and started the coffeemaker. She glanced at the wall clock and sent a quiet prayer heavenward for Nancy and Harold Runningbear. They’d taught her to tell time and do basic addition and subtraction. Without them...she wouldn’t think about that. But even Nancy hadn’t been able to teach her to read or write beyond the most basic level. Alicia was sure it was because there was something wrong with her.
If only...
Alicia shook off the nagging thoughts. More than anyone, she knew how pointless it was to wish the past had never happened.
Focusing her mind on her work, she noticed it was almost three o’clock. Eli, a boy from Lives Under Construction who helped out at Tansi after school, would arrive in about twenty minutes. Alicia needed to decide what she wanted on the tags for her new items so he could write them up, which meant she’d have to think of another excuse for not doing it herself. Being illiterate was bad enough, but keeping it a secret was even harder. And she had to keep it under wraps, or else she’d risk becoming the town’s laughingstock or activate worry that she might not be able to repay the community loan.
She regretted now that she’d let someone else do her homework in school, that she’d allowed herself to believe that quitting school to live on the streets was an option. When Nancy and Harold had taken her in, they’d helped her see she could start over, make something of her life. But Mr. Parcet’s attack had made returning to the special literacy classes impossible. She hadn’t been able to go back there, couldn’t be anywhere near him or any other man without panicking. Then she’d learned she was pregnant.
How ironic that she still thought of him as Mr., a respect unworthy of him. But to think of him otherwise was to admit he had a personal part in her life. Alicia couldn’t allow that. Nor could she again relive those terror-filled moments.
She wasn’t that dumb fifteen-year-old girl anymore. Look how far she’d come in ten years. She had her own business to run. She had a life. She was stronger and more determined than ever. She could figure out a way to protect her child, too. Somehow.
Alicia picked up the picture Lucy Clow had left on her desk. Sweet Lucy did the books for Alicia’s business but she also ran the store whenever Alicia was away. Though Lucy and her husband, Hector, were retired missionaries to the Inuit, they were by no means retired. Lucy acted as part-time church secretary, frequently helped out at Lives Under Construction and stepped in anywhere else in Churchill where she saw a need.
In Alicia, Lucy obviously saw a need. Though Alicia had never confessed, Lucy seemed to know that Alicia couldn’t read much and she made allowances. One of those allowances was the pictures she left for Alicia, to apprise her of something. This one seemed to be saying that Jim Deerfoot had more antler carvings to sell. That was good because Alicia’s stock was low.
Lucy’s presence at Tansi yesterday meant that everything in the store had been thoroughly dusted, the sales records updated and the storeroom organized in extreme detail. Tomorrow Lucy would stop by and explain the accounts, what had sold, what was in the bank. It was her assistance that kept Tansi in the black. Lucy was like a revered grandmother in Alicia’s heart. Alicia adored the sprightly woman whose faith in God held strong and firm in the face of hardship.
Lucy had even made the upstairs apartment glow. The woman loved to clean and organize. She’d done such a good job while Alicia was away that all she needed was a few groceries. She’d just finished making a mental list when Eli sauntered in.
“Hey,” she greeted. “How are you?”
“Awesome.” Eli’s attention immediately honed in on the items she’d brought with her. “These rock,” he said, bending to inspect each one. “Like totally sick.”
“Sick?” Alarmed, Alicia stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“Sick, as in great, Alicia,” he said in a droll tone.
“Oh. Well, I’m glad you like them.” Once he’d stored his backpack, she explained what she wanted him to create for the tags on each item. “Make them special, okay? You’re a genius when it comes to writing these tags,” she praised, “so I know you’ll do a totally sick job.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. “I have to get groceries. My fridge is empty.”
“Go ahead. Let this genius get to work.” Eli flexed his fingers, pulled out his label supplies, then stopped. “Did you know there’s a new girl staying at the hotel? She looks like a cover model.”
“I met her on the train. Her name is Giselle Campbell. She moved here with her father, Jack, who bought the Northern Lights Lodge,” Alicia explained. “Laurel is her aunt.”
“Think she’ll join our youth choir?” Eli asked in an awestruck voice. “We could use some more girls, especially ones who look like her.”
“You
