by Connie Mason
Ice & Rapture
Connie Mason
* * *
Prologue
July 16, 1897, from Seattle Post-Intelligencer:
Goldl Goldl Goldl Goldl Atthiee o'clock this morning the steamer, Portland, fromSt Michael, Alaska, passed up the sound with more than a ton of solid gold aboard A tug hired by reporters from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer steamed out to meet the Portland
Later, when the ship docked and was greeted by hails of "show us the gold," more than one passenger held up a sack More than a ton of gold amved on the ship (actually it was more than two ton) Interviews with the prospectors aboard reflected prospenty, optimism and a determination to rejoin as quickly as possible a partner who was left behind working their claim
News spread around the world by the next morning when the Portland approached the dock in Seattle, producing a stampede to the Yukon by Americans and Canadians alike
Chapter One
Seattle—July 17, 1897
"Please, Mr Grant, can't you forget I'm a woman this one time and treat me like one of the other reporters'?" Maggie asked, swiping ineffectually at a stray lock of honey-blond hair dangling on her furrowed brow
Maggie was angry, damn angry Everyone knew she was the best reporter and photographer on the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, but being a woman prevented her from being assigned to the Yukon to report on the Klondike gold rush It was nearly 1900, for heaven's sake, and Maggie Afton was a young woman poised on the threshhold of a bold new century where countless opportunities awaited her If going to the Klondike would help other women break out of the mold in which men cast them, then go she would, with or without Mr Grant's blessing
"For the last time, Maggie, you don't belong in that frozen wasteland," Fred Grant, managing editor of the highly respected newspaper pronounced with firm conviction "You're a damn good reporter, but there's a limit to what you can do There are plenty of men here at the newspaper eager and willing to go For God's sake, Maggie, you've seen some of the wretched souls corning down from the Klondike—hollow-eyed emaciated creatures dressed in rags with frozen hands and feet You've interviewed them, heard the harrowing tales they told of hardship and deprivation Not everyone comes back rich I'm much too fond of you to allow something like that happen "
"Surely those were extreme cases, Mr Grant," Maggie argued, growing desperate She wanted to go to the Klondike—needed to go to prove to the world that she was as good as any man at her profession "When the Portland steamed into Puget Sound yesterday, I fought to be one of the first reporters aboard I saw the gold—tons of it—took pictures, listened to their stones Of course it was difficult, but they survived and came home wealthy If they did it, so can I Only I won't be going to stake a claim on the Bonanza or Eldorado, but to send back stones and pictures for postenty "
Peering over the lenses of his thick glasses, Fred Grant glared at Maggie Afton Tunneling stubby fingers though his sparse gray hair, he recalled vividly the day headstrong Maggie Afton had walked into his office seeking a job Cool, tough, yet lovelier than a woman had aright to be, she had more expenence than most men he hired He soon learned that she was possessed of guts and determination to match Furthermore, he could depend on Maggie Afton when all others failed him
Fred Grant had offered Maggie a position on the paper, at first wasting her talents on society and
women's affairs, until the day she scooped all her male counterparts with an exciting interview and pictures of a condemned murderer Since that day Maggie had been given more responsible assignments that made use of her journalistic talents But send her to the Klondike1? Preposterous!
"It's out of the question, Maggie, I won't even consider it," Grant blustered
"Then I'll go on my own," Maggie defied him stubbornly "I'm not without resources I've saved every cent of the money I got from the sale of Father's newspaper in California "
Her eyes, a warm amber gold, darkened with determination, a sign that Fred Grant grew to recognize as the beginning of a confrontation—which the lovely young woman usually won through sheer bullheadedness
Maggie Afton was argumentative, tough, stubborn, she knew what she wanted and went after it with a single-mindedness unusual in the women Fred Grant knew Wide amber eyes, a beguiling smile, honey-colored hair shimmering with golden highlights, and a slim but nicely curved body gave one the distinct impression of softness, but her looks were deceiving Hidden beneath that lovely exterior lay a steely resolve and firmness of purpose seldom seen even in men It was rumored that Maggie was engaged once, but what happened to her intended remained locked within Maggie's heart
Literally raised in a newspaper office, Maggie was at home with the smell of printer's ink and the clatter of presses Maggie's father had been a much respected owner of a small newspaper in Eureka, California, when he died suddenly of a heart attack Maggie continued to operate the paper alone for a time, but later sold out and moved to Sacramento before finally settling in Seattle when opportunity beckoned her northward She was lucky in finding
Grant, who immediately recognized her potential and hired her At the advanced age of twenty-five, Maggie was considered a spinster by many, but she appeared more amused than disturbed by the title
"I'm a damn good reporter and you know it, Mr Grantl"
Grant rolled his eyes heavenward, calling on all the patience God gave him "No one is belittling your work, Maggie, but I've grown too fond of you to see harm come to you Leave the Klondike with its harsh climate and hardships to men equipped to handle it I'd be better served if you remained in Seattle to cover the news while all those damn fool men rush north in search of quick wealth "
"Don't patronize me, Mr Grant," Maggie returned testily "You know I'll do a good job for you I'd prefer to travel as an employee of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer but if not I'll do it as a free agent and sell my articles and pictures to the highest bidder "
Fred Grant wagged his sparsely thatched head slowly from side to side, recognizing defeat in Maggie's defiant glare Obviously this determined young woman couldn't be talked out of this crazy venture And if she was set ongoing to the Klondike then the Post-Intelligencer might as well benefit
"You realize, of course, that passage will be hard to come by now that word is out of the gold strike You may have to accept passage on a garbage scow "
"I'll risk it," Maggie grinned, aware that she'd surmounted the first hurdle of her great adventure Her impish grin lent her the appearance of an adorable pixie, belying her tough resolve and the impossible goals she set for herself
"I know I'll live to regret it," Fred Grant sighed wearily, "but if you insist on going to the Klondike you'll go as an employee of the Post-Intelligencer I'll arrange passage "
"I knew I could count on you, Mr Grant," Maggie
said eagerly "You won't regret it, either I'll send you the best damn stones ever to corne out of the Yukon "
August 10, 1897
"Take care of yourself, Maggie, and for God's sake don't let anything happen to you "
"Thanks, Mr Grant, I'll start sending articles back as soon as I arrive in Skagway There's probably lots of stones available right here aboard the North Star "
"I've done all I can to pave your way I'm sorry accommodations are so lousy The North Star is a mail packet, little better than a scow, but at least I've secured a cabin for you Once you get to Skagway, you'll be on your own to find transportation over White Pass to the Klondike It's not too late," he added hopefully, "to back out"
"I'm not a quitter," Maggie returned, her chin jutting out at a stubborn angle "My father once told me that being a woman had nothing to do with the goals I set for myself He taught me to be tough and self-reliant so I could get along in a man's world Besides, this is something I n
eed to prove to myself I appreciate your concern, but my mind is made up "
Nodding grimly, Fred Grant watched Maggie's trim figure as she picked her way up the gangplank of the insignificant little barge and slowly wound her way through the throngs of men milling about on deck waiting for the last passengers to board There hadn't been time to purchase the entire eleven hundred and fifty pounds of food the Canadian government insisted upon before allowing starnpeders to cross into the Yukon, but Grant assumed the rest could be purchased in Skagway, Alaska It womed him that Maggie would be on her own in Skagway If reports could be believed, Skagway was a lawless
town teeming with swindlers and criminals of every nature
Actually, Fred Grant hoped Maggie failed to find someone willing to take her over White Pass to Bennet Lake and downriver to Dawson City in the Klondike He knew of few women willing or able to endure the hardships, harsh elements, and deplorable conditions at the gold fields But then, Maggie Afton was like no other woman he'd ever known
Pausing at the door to her cabin, Maggie swung around to catch a last glimpse of Fred Grant's departing back Her warm golden eyes darkened with satisfaction over how easily she had gotten her way Of course she wasn't^ the Klondike yet, but she was confident of her ability to find suitable escort across that desolate wasteland
Bom twenty-five years ago on Christmas day, she was named Margaret Ann after her grandmother, and promptly called Maggie Maggie's parents had moved to California from Illinois, where her father had owned and operated a newspaper in Springfield Lured by adventure, Walt Afton pulled up stakes and took his small family west He settled in Eureka, where he promptly began publishing a weekly newspaper Pleased with the town and their reception, the family had remained
Walt had been the driving force in his daughter's life, raising his only child to be independent, self-reliant, and as tough as her feminine nature would allow Maggie's mother, Sarah, died in childbirth when Maggie was ten, and Walt chose not to remarry Instead he devoted his life to reporting the truth and teaching his daughter everything he knew about publishing a newspaper, which was considerable After Walt's death three years ago, Maggie had floundered for a few months, trying to decide what to do with her life
Enter Matt Creed, a handsome rogue who nearly succeeded in talking Maggie out of her inheritance as well as her virginity Vulnerable and at loose ends, Maggie nearly forgot all her father's teachings, allowing the soft, feminine side of her to obscure all but the way Matt's kisses made her feel and the need to be loved and protected
Maggie rudely came to her senses when she found Matt Creed with another woman and overheard him telling her he'd soon have enough money to set her up in a place of her own It was the last time Maggie ever let a man's smooth words and false promises lead her astray
She promptly sold her father's business and moved to Sacramento, where she found a place with a local newspaper Two years later she felt herself stifling with the assignments allowed her and moved to Seattle, hoping for that one big break to make a name for herself Through fortitude and perseverance, that day was now at hand Soon, she vowed, her name would be recognized the world over for her work in the Yukon But the biggest thrill of all would come with being the first woman to brave adversity and the elements to send back reports of life in the Klondike
Suddenly a commotion along the dock diverted Maggie's attention, and she turned to watch a herd of noisy, complaining cattle being driven down the pier and into the belly of the barge It wasn't a large herd, but a strange sight indeed when most ships of every description were used to cany hordes of men to Alaska
Fascinated, Maggie saw the captain leave the bridge and call down to the dock to the tall cowboy who appeared to be in charge "Get a move on. Chase, we're behind schedule Almost left without you "
"Had a mite of trouble on the trail, Cap'n Bates," the man hollered back He lifted his face, pushing
the wide-brimmed hat to the back of his head, and Maggie was treated to the electrifying sight of startling blue eyes in an interesting face bronzed by exposure to the sun She couldn't help but admire the way his six foot plus frame sat in the saddle with an air or undisputed authority and the wiry strength of his magnificently honed body
A thin cotton shirt hugged his lean torso and was tucked into the waist of tan cord pants that fit much more snugly than Maggie thought decent A leather holster hung from his slim hips, cradling a lethal-looking pistol that he wore with such an air of casual menace it was frightening His body was as hard as steel, and the elements had tanned his skin to a deep bronze, with tiny white lines radiating from the comers of those fascinating blue eyes His lips were full and sensuous, his hair a burnished copper The hard planes of his face indicated he was a man who showed scant mercy to his enemies—and asked for none A tiny shudder traveled the length of Maggie's slender body as their eyes met across the expanse of deck and water
Abruptly he smiled, a crooked grin displaying a wide expanse of strong white teeth The effect was devastating, to say the least When he tipped his hat and winked, Maggie flushed, embarrassed that the bold cowboy had caught her staring at him She whirled, fully intending to enter the cabin assigned her, when suddenly a harsh cry froze her to the spot Her reporter instincts and natural curiosity would not allow her to ignore the strong possibility of a story
"That's him, Shenffi Arrest the killer He murdered my buddy in cold blood "
The man pointed a grubby finger directly at the blue-eyed cowboy, who was now trudging up the gangplank with his saddlebag slung over one shoulder Hearing the cry, the cowboy turned, surprise and
disgust wrinkling his wide brow At least half a dozen men wearing badges sprinted from the crowded dock to give chase Still hanging over the rail, the captain shouted, "Chase, hop aboard, quickl"
Leaping the last few feet. Chase landed on deck with a thud, aware that the law was hard on his heels "Damnl" he cursed beneath his breath It wasn't in his best interests to be detained now, not when he'd fought weeks of choking trail dust to bring his herd this far Not when everything he owned was tied up in those one hundred and twenty head of cattle Not when Rusty was waiting for him in Skagway He'd worked too dadbumed hard to endup in jail for killing a skunk who tried to steal his grubstake to the gold fields The thieving bastard got no more than he deserved
But what could he do with the sheriff and his deputies hot on his tail1? Chase wondered frantically Careening around trunks and supplies stacked on the deck. Chase paid little heed to the sheriffs warning to stop, scaling the ladder to the deck above, where the few passenger cabins were located Skidding to an abrupt halt, he came face to face with Maggie, who had ducked into the doorway of her cabin when she saw the wild-eyed cowboy leaping up the ladder in her direction
Glancing behind him. Chase saw that his pursuers had yet to reach the top deck, and his natural instinct for survival brought him to a hasty decision Grasping Maggie around the waist with one hand and the doorknob with the other. Chase opened the door and thrust her inside, following close behind
"Why—why—what is the meaning of this, you—you big lummox?" Maggie sputtered angrily
"Sony, lady," Chase mumbled, slinging his saddlebag beneath the bunk out of sight, "I need your help Take off your blouse "
"Whatl Are you some kind of pervert1?"
"Listen, lady, I don't aim, to hurt you, not if you cooperate "
The sound of raised voices and racing steps brought a tenseness to Chase's large frame and an icy hardness to his blue eyes "Hurry, lady, I don't cotton to being hauled off to jail Move your tail, take off your blouse and hop in the bunk before they start searchin' the rooms "
"I'll do no such thingl" Maggie returned huffily
With grim determination. Chase drew his pistol "Look, lady, you heard them call me a killer You gonna make me prove it1?"
Maggie eyed Chase's tail, imposing form narrowly He was everything a well-bred gentleman was not—a barbarian, totally uncivilized, offensive and rude His language was crude an
d unfit for a lady's ears, his manners despicable He wasn't worth a second glance She looked at him again This time through the eyes of an inquisitive reporter with the makings of a hot story within her grasp Besides, he didn't look like a killer to her, and she'd seen enough of them to know
"Allright, Mr—Mr—" "Chase Chase McGarrett"
"I'll help you, Mr McGarrett, on one condition," Maggie said brusquely She was all business now, and Chase decided the lady was one cold fish despite her soft beauty
"Tears to me you got no choice, lady " His bluff didn't fool Maggie
"I doubt you'll kill me, Mr McGarrett," she said with more conviction than she felt
"Name your condition," Chase growled God preserve him from bossy women
"Once the sheriff and his men leave, I want your story "
"Story1? What in hell are you talkin' about1?"
"I'm a reporter with the Seattle Post-Intelligencer I'm on my way to the Klondike to report on the Bonanza gold strike " She eyed him speculatively "There's bound to be a story somewhere in this "
"You're a womanl" Chase exploded, astounded by the notion that a female would attempt such a daring feat "Obviously you're not blind," Maggie replied coolly She found little humor in his disparaging tone of voice "What I mean, lady," Chase explained with exaggerated patience, "is that the Klondike is no place for a woman " "We'll argue that point later What's your answer1? The sheriff will be here any second " "Hell's bells, lady, if you can find a story in my life, you're welcome to it Turn around " "Whatl"
"I'll unbutton your blouse As soon as you get it off hop in the bunk " Flipping her around, he had the buttons undone before Maggie could voice a protest "By the way, what's your name1?"
