At the Mountain's Edge

by Genevieve Graham

“Yep. Still standing, beautiful as ever,” Steele said. “For that we must be grateful.”

  “Miss Peterson’s shop is gone,” Thompson said.

  But Liza was all right. That’s all Ben could think about.

  “Speak of the devil.” Thompson shielded his one eye from the sun. “Is that who I think it is?”

  A woman was walking towards Fort Herchmer, and though she moved slowly, Ben recognized Liza’s stride. Evidently Keitl did, too, because she galloped towards her, yowling with joy. Liza leaned down, rubbed the dog’s head, and Keitl started running circles around her, not quite underfoot. Ben felt a ridiculous urge to toss aside his cane and run to her, too.

  “What is she up to now?” Ben asked.

  Thompson chuckled. “As if you don’t know. She’s as stubborn as you.”

  “One of us should behave like a gentleman,” Steele muttered. He sauntered towards Liza and offered her his arm. “Dawson City’s newest hero,” he called her. “I’m pleased to see you up and about, Miss Peterson.”

  “As am I,” Ben said when she and Steele had reached them. “Hero indeed.”

  They could all see that Liza only had eyes for Ben. He couldn’t stop staring at her, either. This woman had saved his life. How could he ever show her his gratitude?

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes. Thanks to you.”

  Satisfied, she faced the rest of them. “Sergeant Thompson? Is that you?”

  He gave a little bow. “At your service.”

  “You shaved!”

  “Not by choice. Doctor did it during surgery.”

  She tilted her head. “I’m very sorry to hear what happened to you. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

  “Don’t hurt at all. I get dizzy, but I guess that’ll get better.”

  Steele took a step back. “Sergeant Thompson, let’s you and I go inside, talk over some things.”

  It was an obvious excuse to leave them alone, and Ben appreciated it. There was so much he wanted to say to Liza.

  As they were leaving, Thompson turned back to Liza. “Bravest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “I don’t know that any woman has ever done anything like that before.”

  She blushed under his attention, then her gaze returned to Ben. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

  “Thompson?” Steele called.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied. “Here, Keitl. Come with me.”

  Then it was just the two of them, and Ben felt the strangest urge to weep. He took a breath, steadying himself before he spoke. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see someone as I am right now,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m getting there,” she said. “At least I don’t have to go back to the hospital. How’s your head?”

  He touched the bandage. “It’ll be a few days before my hat fits right again. They say part of the roof fell on me. I never saw it coming.”

  “You should be in bed.”

  “I wanted to see.”

  She sighed. “Oh, the town’s a terrible thing to look at.”

  “Not that,” he replied softly. “I wanted to see you.”

  She drew her arms around herself. “I’m not much to look at.”

  “That’s not true.” He took a step towards her. “Liza, whenever I was awake I thought of you. I’m still in shock, thinking of what you did for me. No one else was going to charge into a burning building, but you—”

  “You could have died,” she said, her voice breaking. “I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t—”

  He dropped his cane, pulled her into his arms, and held her as she sobbed into his chest.

  “Liza.” He loosened his grip so he could look at her, brushed a tear off her cheek with his bandaged thumb. “You could have been killed.”

  Her chin quivered. “That didn’t matter, Ben. I couldn’t imagine living without you.”

  His hands cradled her face, and he marvelled at the smoothness of her skin, at the way her eyes drifted closed when he leaned towards her. Their lips touched, and it was like nothing he could have imagined, like a hundred candles had lit in his veins, like he was sliding down the icy Chilkoot Trail with nothing to stop him. As if he’d lost control.

  It was this last thought that made him stop.

  “What is it?” she asked, not moving. “What’s wrong, Ben?”

  “I’m sorry, Liza.” He dropped his arms and stepped back, afraid to even touch her. The longing was an unexpected physical ache. “You deserve better. You don’t even know me.”

  “But I do.”

  “I’m no good for you.”

  “You’re a good man, Ben. Everything you do—”

  “There’s a reason I don’t talk about my family, Liza.” The words poured out of his mouth as if they’d been waiting for a chance to escape. “My father killed my mother.”

  He saw the emotion swimming in her eyes: the shock, the fear, the disbelief.

  “When?” she asked, her voice hollow. “When did this happen?”

  “About eight years back.”

  Her features softened. “But you were just a child.”

  She was watching him, waiting for more. He knew she wouldn’t leave without an explanation.

  “You sure you want to hear this?”

  “I am.”

  He picked up the cane he’d dropped and she followed him as he hobbled towards a bench nearby. Slowly, his eyes on the flattened town of Dawson City, he told her everything. How his father was a drunk, how he beat Ben and his mother, how Ben had tried and failed to protect his mother all those years. Then, finally, he told her about that last day. About the screaming he’d heard from across the field, about his mother’s lifeless body, about the hot, hard truth of his father’s gun pressed against his head, about the Mountie who had saved him.

  “All my life I was determined not to be like my father. Everything I did I asked myself if it was something he’d do. Because if it was, I’d go the other way.” He hesitated. “But I’m his son, and I always will be. Ain’t nothing I can do to change that. I have a short fuse and it catches fire at the littlest things.” His fists tightened. “Every day, I fight to keep it under control, but violence is in my blood, and I can’t risk you getting hurt.”

  For the first time in a long while he let his fingers skim over the jagged scar on his face.

  “Did your father do that?” Her voice carried no blame, no judgment, and all he could do was nod once. “Ben, listen to me. You were a little boy, raised by a terrible man. No one should have to grow up that way. But everything’s different now. You have become a man who saves lives, who keeps people safe.” She touched his cheek. “That scared little boy has become a hero. And I love you.”

  He’d never wanted to hurt her, but he’d never meant to fall in love with her, either. With one had come the other.

  He pushed her hands away and the smile on her lips faltered. “You shouldn’t have saved me, Liza.”

  Liza

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Belinda tucked her arm through Liza’s and led her through the crowd. “Weren’t they marvellous, Liza? There is nothing quite so splendid as watching men in uniform marching in formation!” She glanced sideways. “I don’t suppose you noticed how terribly handsome Ben was looking.”

  Liza kept her tone even. “They all looked very nice.”

  It was Queen Victoria’s birthday and the whole town was celebrating. Playing a bittersweet tune on his bagpipes, one of the local saloonkeepers had led a parade down Front Street. Behind him, the North-West Mounted Police, their red serge spotless, their black boots and brass buttons shining in the sunlight, marched in perfect unison with Steele at their helm. When they reached the centre of town, Steele called the company to a halt and Ben joined two other men to fire a .303-calibre Maxim gun over the Yukon River.

  Liza had stood back, wanting to see but not be seen, as the red coats marched past. These days she and Ben were civil towards each other when they crossed paths, but
she couldn’t manage much more than that. In fact, Ben acted like nothing had happened, which Liza couldn’t understand, but from the way he’d kept his secrets from her so well, she figured he was used to bottling up his feelings. Still, things could never be the same between them. Not because of what he’d told her, but because Ben couldn’t forgive himself for what he’d had to say—and that didn’t lessen the heartache Liza felt.

  She’d wanted to stay at home today, but Belinda had insisted they go out, promising that they’d have a wonderful time, sipping champagne, eating ice cream, and gawking at poor fashion choices.

  Belinda was pointing out one such instance now. “Look at that lady’s elaborate gown. Hardly practical at an outdoor event during the day! I swear, Dawson City really is taking on airs these days. It’s just not like it used to be, is it?”

  “No,” Liza agreed. “Everything’s different.”

  Belinda made a good show of not letting Liza’s mood affect her. “I suppose everything must change over time, and our town’s no exception. It will be interesting to see who stays and who goes now that Nome is in full swing.”

  Despite herself, Liza could feel a sense of optimism in the air, and it wasn’t just the games and music filling the streets for the holiday. After the fire, Dawson City had been quickly rebuilt, and the downtown district’s pale new timber walls, combined with the clean new paint on the shops’ false fronts, gave the town a friendly feel. Even the prostitutes had been cleaned up—or rather relocated. After the fire and because of a particularly nasty outbreak of syphilis, Steele had demanded the town set up a new location for them, across the Yukon River. It was called Louse Town, but the girls preferred to call it Klondike City, claiming that sounded better.

  A loud thwack rang out nearby, followed by more. “What’s that sound?” Liza asked.

  Belinda grabbed a young man as he walked the other way. “What’s going on over there?”

  The young man glanced back. “Firewood-chopping contest.”

  “Oh! Let’s go watch,” Belinda said.

  Liza held on tight as Belinda led, but she stopped moving when they got close. Some of the younger men had stepped up with their axes, challenging each other to the contest, and Ben was one of four Mounties who’d peeled off their coats and joined in. He’d rolled up his sleeves and was laughing at something one of the others was saying, loose black curls tumbling over his brow. His smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. As if he’d heard her thoughts, Ben looked over and gave her a friendly wave.

  “Smile, Liza,” Belinda quietly urged. “Laugh a little. Let him see what he’s missing.”

  But she couldn’t summon much.

  The starter pistol fired, axes swung, and sweat flew among the wood chips. Men grunted with effort and some paused to catch their breath, but Ben kept going despite the sweat rolling down his brow and dripping into his eyes. Since he couldn’t look her way, Liza felt safe enough to watch him, to appreciate the man she could never have, to accept the ache that came with that understanding. In the end he tied for the win, and the other man seemed quite pleased to be sharing the prize with a Mountie.

  When Ben ambled over after the contest, Keitl by his side, Belinda congratulated him, then hopped onto her toes and waved at someone, casting apologies over her shoulder as she left Liza and Ben behind. Liza doubted she’d actually spotted anyone in particular. It was more likely that she was leaving the “cheering up” duties to Ben, poor man.

  Liza rubbed Keitl’s neck. “Hello, you beautiful girl. I miss seeing you.”

  Keitl gave her a lick.

  “How are you?” Ben asked.

  “I’m well.” She answered as if she were speaking to anyone at all, not a man to whom she had offered her heart, then been rejected. How confusing, having to remain calm despite her mind still being furious. Was this how it felt for him, trying to hold in all his anger while protecting everyone around him? “Lovely day, isn’t it? Superintendent Steele looked pleased.”

  “I think he was.”

  “Are you on duty?”

  “Not officially.” He shrugged. “But you know. Always watching.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Liza—”

  “How is Sergeant Thompson?”

  “He’s all right. I think he’s getting used to doing less, but I don’t know how long he’ll be able to put up with it. I don’t think he’s been inactive even one day in ten years before now.”

  “I’m so sorry for him. Please tell him hello for me.”

  “Why don’t you tell him yourself? You can come to the outpost. They’d be glad to see you.”

  He was right, of course, but she couldn’t visit. And it annoyed her that he thought she could, that he didn’t realize the very act of being close to him ripped her heart to shreds.

  “You can go see them tomorrow, if you want. I’m going to Tagish for a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh?”

  “Superintendent needs me to pick up some things for him.”

  So strange, how even now she felt a pang, imagining him gone for two weeks. “By yourself?”

  “Well, me and Keitl.”

  “Excuse me, Constable, Miss Peterson!” They both looked over as a young man strode towards them in a light blue coat, a camera bouncing around his neck. “Riley Cook from the Dawson Daily News. Can I get your photograph for the paper? We’re taking a whole bunch of photos so everyone can see them next issue.”

  Ben held out a hand. “Come on, Miss Peterson. Let’s give them a smile.”

  She wanted to say no, but she was flattered someone even wanted to take her photo.

  “All right. Just one.” Was it wrong that she stood closer to Ben than she needed to?

  “You’re looking lovely, by the way,” Ben said softly as they waited for Riley to get organized.

  “Don’t say that, Ben.”

  “I can’t compliment you?”

  “Ben, it’s cruel. You know how I feel about you, and you made it quite clear that you do not feel the same way.” She called out to Riley, “Are we done yet?”

  He gave them a thumbs-up, and she turned away, blinking hard. Ben followed her. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?

  “Miller’s done,” he said. “Did you know that? He’s a civilian now.”

  That was interesting. Ben had never had a complimentary thing to say about Bob Miller, so she was certain this was a good thing.

  “He and I had a fight,” he explained.

  “What?” She whirled to face him, almost forgetting that she was mad at him. “You’re not supposed to be fighting!”

  “Don’t I know it. But he was in the wrong, and the Superintendent knew it.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” she said, letting the now-easy flow of conversation soothe her. She had to admit it was nice, talking like this. She missed these moments with him.

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding unsure. “It’s just, Steele didn’t give him a Blue Ticket. He let Miller stay in Dawson City, and having him here gets on my nerves. It’s like a shadow hanging over me. He’s in the stockade for now, but he’ll be out in the next week or so.”

  “Then what will you do? When he gets out, I mean.”

  “Well, I’ll still be in Tagish. When I’m back I’m going to do my best to ignore him.” His jaw flexed. “But if he causes trouble again, I’ll be ready with cuffs.”

  “Constable Turner.” Steele’s voice came out of nowhere, startling Liza.

  “Hello, Superintendent.”

  “Nice to see you, Miss Peterson,” Steele said. “Turner, I know you’re not on duty, but might I borrow you for a while? It’s about Tagish.”

  “Of course, sir.” Ben turned to Liza apologetically. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and talk with you.”

  If she was being honest, she was glad for the interruption. She couldn’t trust herself around Ben. Even now, as he held her gaze, she thought she felt that magnetic draw between them. That gave her hope that maybe someday he’
d trust her enough to believe what she’d said. And if he learned to believe in himself, he might just come back to her.

  Ben

  THIRTY-SIX

  The Tagish outpost was empty other than Ben and Keitl, and Ben was glad of it. Once he’d made sure he had everything Steele needed, he settled in as comfortably as he could. It was nice to get away from Dawson and the crowds, the constant vigilance and responsibilities that came with being a Mountie. Except for the noise he and Keitl made splashing in the lake or shooting partridge, the only sounds around Tagish Lake were birds—and the ravenous awakening of mosquitoes for the season. Ben covered up as best he could, even draping mosquito netting between his hat and his head to cover his face, but at night it took a while to get past the itchiness and fall asleep.

  If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just the bugs that kept him awake. Liza was never far from his mind. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her at the Victoria Day celebrations, but he could tell she wanted to be rid of him. And he couldn’t blame her.

  “I’m an idiot,” he said out loud, and he heard Keitl groan.

  He closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and imagined himself melting into the land as he’d done when he was a boy. A breeze shushed through the trees, and he breathed it in. This was all the serenity a man could ever need, he thought. Was this what he wanted? Could he live like this? Just him and the dog?

  Liza’s face returned to him, almost talking him out of it, but he banished the vision of her. If he went back to her, what could he do? What could he even offer her? He’d been a fool to have ever entertained any idea of anything in the first place. Mounties could only marry under very specific circumstances, and though he knew a few men who had done it, he couldn’t let himself think about that. In his heart, he was certain he would somehow end up hurting them both.

  Maybe he should put in for a transfer, leave the Yukon. Ben felt a brief pang of guilt at the thought of taking Keitl away from Liza yet again, but hadn’t she said that Keitl was his now? She belonged with Ben. They both had agreed.

  He’d talk to Steele when he got back, he decided. It was the right thing to do. It would be easier on both of them.