PROLOGUE
Valdez, Alaska
March 27, 1964
Twenty-three minutes before the earthquake struck, Valerie McCarthy was on her way to deliver a letter. She had poured all her heart and soul into it, aired all her youthful, pent-up passions and dreams. Her pen had flown across the page impetuously, expressing her deepest, most ardent desires. She was determined to try, one last time, to reach for the life she truly wanted.
The weather was crisp and cold that Good Friday evening, and the world felt strangely new to her. Gloomy gray clouds veiled the sky, yet the snowcapped mountains in the distance were cast in a heavenly light. An odd stillness hung in the air. Valerie’s breath floated lightly in visible puffs as she pushed her baby carriage south along McKinley Street toward the city dock where the SSChenawas unloading supplies. Valerie would meet the ship and place her letter into the proper hands—the hands of someone she could trust.
Quickening her pace, she pushed Cameron over bumpy patches of ice that caused the carriage wheels to rattle in the hush of the evening, but her sweet angel slept soundly and didn’t fuss.
Finally, she arrived at the corner of Alaska Avenue in the center of town and turned toward the waterfront. She made her way onto the earthen causeway that led to the dock, toward the noisy roar of delivery trucks coming and going, horns honking, and men shouting in the distance. A group of young boys ran past her in a race to watch the unloading of supplies—a thrilling spectacle in a town with few televisions.
Valerie walked briskly. Her nose was running, but she had no tissues, so she sniffed and wiped the back of her wrist across her upper lip. She pushed Cameron past the Village Morgue Bar. A few men stood in the doorway, arguing good-naturedly about something. Valerie kept moving, then glanced toward the small-boat harbor, where her friend Jeremy sat casually on the shiny front bumper of a parked car—talking to Angie.
Valerie slowed. For a few tense seconds, she watched and wondered, with more than a little concern, what they were discussing. Then Jeremy stood and pulled Angie into his arms. Valerie sucked in a breath at the sight of their embrace because Angie was a married woman and this was not a good situation. They both knew it.
But Valerie didn’t have time for this. Not today. Not when she was on a mission of her own. Forcing herself to look away, she pushed her carriage and started off again. She would see Angie the next day and speak to her then.
At last, Valerie arrived at the end of the dock, where longshoremen were unloading cargo from the ten-thousand-ton supply ship. Wooden pallets were lifted out of the hold on ropes and pulleys. A steady stream of workers carried smaller crates down the sloping gangplank.
TheChena’s cook stood at the rail, tossing oranges to local boys with their hands in the air. Valerie removed her woolen hat and waved at him.
“Hello! Excuse me! Are you Marcus?”
“I am!” he replied.
“I’m Valerie, a friend of Jeremy’s. I have a favor to ask.”
He pointed at the gangplank and walked the length of the deck to meet her. She waited for him to disembark.
“It’s nice to meet you, Valerie,” he said amiably as he stepped onto the dock and bent over the baby carriage. “And who is this little person?”
Valerie peeled back the blanket. “This is Cameron. He’s three days old today. Sleeping soundly, as you can see.”
“My word. That’s a good-lookin’ boy if I ever saw one. Congratulations.”
Valerie tucked the blanket back around Cameron’s ears.
“What can I do for you?” Marcus asked, straightening.
She removed her mittens, reached into her pocket for the letter, and held it out. “Could you post this for me, wherever you end up next? There should be enough stamps on the envelope to cover it.”
Marcus stared at the letter for a few seconds. “Is there something wrong with the post office in Valdez?”
Valerie continued to hold the letter out. “In a way, yes, but it’s a long story, and if you want to hear it, we’ll be here all day.”
He narrowed his eyes a little as he studied her, then accepted the letter and read the address on the envelope. “Wolfville, Nova Scotia.”
Valerie gestured toward Cameron. “I have news to share with a friend back home.”
Marcus nodded knowingly, slid the letter into his breast pocket, and patted it three times. “Have no fear. I will ensure its safe delivery.”
She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you. Jeremy said you’d be helpful. I appreciate it very much.” She pulled her mittens back on and moved to turn the baby carriage around. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. It’s quite busy here.” A noisy forklift drove past.
“Have a good weekend,” Marcus said as he turned and strode back up the gangplank.
With a heart full of hope, Valerie pushed Cameron away from theChena. She smiled up at a young father who carried his daughter on his shoulders and wondered what her own future might look like, nowthat her letter was on its way home. Her life, and Cameron’s, might be quite different in a month or two.
