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Claimed

Page 3

by Lindsay Buroker


  “Perhaps we should halt your bicycle, hide it in the trees, and approach people via less... sophisticated means,” Cedar said.

  The group of men working the first claim had already turned curious heads toward the chugs and clanks of the SAB.

  “Less sophisticated?” Kali asked over her shoulder. “Or were you going to say less odd?”

  “I’d never use a disparaging word for one of your creations. Especially since I’m still hoping you’ll let me drive it someday.”

  “You’re wise beyond your years.”

  Despite her smile and apparent agreement with him, Kali neither parked the contraption nor veered it toward the trees where it might be less noticeable. She bumped across the rocky terrain, straight toward the group of men. Cedar wore his Winchester and katana strapped to his rucksack, but he had made sure he could draw either weapon if he needed to, and he touched the stock of his rifle for reassurance. He had run into a lot of superstitious people in his travels, especially in remote, rural areas, and steam-powered vehicles weren’t a common sight even in the big cities.

  One of the men, an older fellow with a weathered face and a gray mustache threatening to devour his lips, stalked toward them, a Winchester of his own in hand. Perhaps seeing him as the more threatening figure, the man focused on Cedar. If he had seen the way Kali could drive this thing—and the way she had crashed not one but two airships in the last few months—he would have given most of his attention to her.

  “Hello!” Kali waved cheerfully.

  Cedar hadn’t known her to be the cheerful, outgoing type, so he could only assume she had some plan, one that involved more than not getting shot. Though that was an admirable goal as well.

  “I’m taking orders,” Kali went on when the man’s gaze shifted toward her. “Anyone here interested in coffee, bacon, sugar, or other goods to see you through the winter?”

  Cedar snorted, but the man lowered his rifle, and the rest of the fellows, who had been glowering suspiciously and doubtlessly taking these newcomers as potential claim jumpers, started jabbering atwixt each other and making enthusiastic gestures.

  “What do you mean?” the leader asked as the SAB drew closer.

  Kali held up a finger, halted the vehicle, and hopped off. A few wisps of smoke continued to drift from the stack, but the bicycle’s chug-clanks stopped, and the group’s attention came to rest solely on her. Cedar eased off behind her, keeping his weapon pointed toward the ground.

  “I’m Kali McAlister. You might have heard of me. No? There’ll be a piece out in the newspaper soon. I’ve been building an airship outside of town, and it’ll be ready to fly in less than a month. My first run will be south to Seattle to pick up supplies. I’m fixing to bring all manner of goods back to sell at a reasonable price, especially compared to what eggs and sugar are going for in town right now.”

  This drew a couple of nods and muttered comments.

  “Sinful what them bandits are charging in Dawson.”

  “Did she say coffee?”

  “And bacon. Been months since we had a side of pork belly.”

  The leader waved for his men to hush. “You looking for money up front?” He asked it casually, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. With con artists working every faro table in Dawson, a man had to be smarter than a whip not to get hornswoggled just walking through town to drop off his mail.

  “No,” Kali said, “just taking orders. You’ve got no reason to trust me not to fly off with your money and never return. But I figured I’d go around and get a good feel for what people want, especially if you want any specialty items, so I can make sure and sell everything I bring back.”

  The prospectors nodded. Sergeant Tremblay had done well in sending her along. Kali had the men going right along with her story. Maybe because it wasn’t that much of a story. Cedar still had to ask about her new plan to haul freight. He had been imagining something a touch more... stimulating when he had pictured them flying about the world in her airship.

  “Specialty items?” One fellow nudged a mate. “Maybe you can get your catalogue woman this year after all, Brandt.”

  “Aw, shush up about that.”

  “It’s your dream, ain’t it? You bring it up near every night...”

  Cedar watched Kali’s face, wondering if the notion would offend her. They were already on their way to establishing a rapport, as the sergeant had called it, with these fellows, but she could get frosty on a man right quick if he hit one of her sore spots.

  When Kali responded, her tone was dry, but she kept her words to, “I was thinking of tobacco and sewing kits. I don’t think women are that common in Seattle, anyway.”

  “Right,” one of the men said, “everyone knows catalogue women come from overseas.”

  “Like I’d bring poor women here to be pawed over by these clodhoppers,” Kali muttered.

  “Maybe we can do some importing from other cities once we’ve done our trial run,” Cedar said, because the leader looked like he was about to ask Kali to repeat herself. “Are you folks going to be here long? Through the winter?”

  The leader lifted his chin, his mustache shivering from his indignant snort. “We’ll be here until all the gold on this claim is in our pockets.”

  The others nodded, though a couple of those nods were less certain and accompanied by glances toward the tree line. Interesting. Cedar would love to take his rifle, trot up to those trees, and look around for prints. Men got a touch twitchy at strangers wandering about on their claims, though.

  “That’s good,” Kali said, putting aside her distaste for woman-shopping clodhoppers. “We’d heard some of the folks up here were afraid to stay the winter and were selling their claims. I wasn’t sure if this trip would be worthwhile.”

  “Nobody here is afraid,” the leader growled.

  Again his buddies nodded, but again a couple glanced toward the trees.

  “Glad to hear it,” Kali said. “Why don’t you tell me what supplies you might want to buy in a couple of months?”

  She pulled out a tiny journal and flipped past dozens of sketches, trying to find an empty page. She found a spot near the back with the bottom third blank. If the prospectors noticed her paper supply might be on the scant side for taking numerous orders, nobody mentioned it as they shuffled closer. They were probably too busy thinking of bacon. And catalogue women.

  Cedar leaned his rifle against the SAB, clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled a few paces. He pretended to observe the creek and the busy miners in the distance, but he sidled closer to one of the men who had sent those nervous glances toward the trees.

  “Something out there?” Cedar asked quietly, nodding in that direction.

  “No,” the man was quick to say. “Why do you ask?”

  “Thought there might be Indians or claim jumpers about. I’m the only security my partner has back there, so I like to know what’s what in an area before we stroll into it.” Cedar thought that sounded plausible. He would have preferred to lean on the man and simply ask for the information he wanted, but there were plenty of hours until sunset. They could try the crafty approach first.

  “Why?” the nervous man asked. “You two carrying a bunch of money or something?”

  Hm, that wasn’t the notion Cedar had meant to put into the man’s head. He wasn’t overly worried about this group’s ability to claim jump him, but he and Kali didn’t need rumors traveling upriver ahead of them. “Money? No. We wouldn’t aim to start an import business if we had a vein of our own to plunder. But some might find her craft valuable and decide they want it for themselves.”

  The dubious lip quirk the man sent toward the SAB insulted Cedar—on Kali’s behalf—but it was the reaction he had hoped for. Nothing here that sane men would value. No need to molest him and Kali.

  “There’s nothing out there to worry about if you don’t have a claim,” the man said.

  “Why would having a claim matter?” Cedar kept himself from leaning for
ward, though the information he wanted seemed on the tip of the man’s tongue.

  “It wouldn’t.”

  Cedar had kept his hands clasped behind his back, but they twitched apart, as if to leap out, independently of his mind’s thoughts, to throttle the man. “Then why did you mention claims?”

  “Didn’t mean to.” He stepped around Cedar. “I need to put in my order. I haven’t had a dram of tequila since I left California.”

  Cedar huffed his next exhalation. He thought of approaching someone else on the edge of the group, but the leader was stroking his mustache and watching him. Cedar walked over to wait by the SAB. Better to see if they had luck with the next group.

  “Thanks, I got it all.” Kali waved her notebook. “You’ll hear from me before the spit point.”

  “Before the what?” a young man asked, someone’s little brother probably. He didn’t look old enough to have put together the funds to travel up here on his own.

  “The point at which it’s cold enough to freeze your spit before it hits the ground,” Kali said. “Some people call it the piss point, but I don’t recommend taking your Saint Peter out of the tent to test that when it’s that cold.”

  A couple of the men’s eyes grew round, reminders that none of them had likely ever lived through a Yukon winter. Cedar had only seen the tail end of the last one himself and wouldn’t mind being on that airship in a warmer clime when those temperatures came. One could endure the cold, but not seeing the sun for weeks wore on a man after a time.

  “Saint Peter?” Cedar asked when he and Kali were back on the SAB, heading toward the next claim.

  “Is that not a common name?” she asked. “That’s what Sebastian called it.

  “A bit pretentious, don’t you think?”

  “What do you call yours?”

  Cedar had never felt compelled to name his prick, but responded with, “Someone called it the Lady Pleaser once.” He regretted the stupid comment immediately, though a part of him hoped Kali would be intrigued.

  Instead, she said, “And that’s not pretentious?”

  “Of course not. Nicknames are only pretentious when you choose them for yourself. Getting a lofty one from someone else is a badge of honor.”

  “Was that someone else a prostitute you were paying for her time?” Kali asked.

  “Uhm.”

  “I only ask because that badge might not be quite as shiny as one coming from a sergeant major of the Mounties or someone more distinguished.”

  “I’d be more concerned than honored if a sergeant major ever had occasion to name my piece.”

  “True point.” Kali pointed to the opposite side of the creek. “Want to talk to them?”

  The group was similar to the last, though they were merely digging and panning and hadn’t set up chutes yet.

  “Let’s see if we can find a family,” Cedar said. “Maybe a woman for you to chum up with.”

  Kali snorted. “I’ve always got on better with men, when I’ve got on with folks at all.”

  “Sergeant Tremblay seemed to think the women would take to one of their own kind.”

  “I’m suspicious of Sergeant Tremblay,” Kali said.

  Cedar shifted on his seat. “You are? Why?”

  “Because he was determined that I go with you. We’ve worked together a couple of times, sure, but you’ve always dealt with the Mounties. I doubt most of them know I exist.”

  “Oh, they know you exist.”

  “They do? Because of the gadgets I’ve made for you?” She sounded hopeful, and Cedar wanted to say yes, but he supposed the truth would be more useful.

  “Because you crashed the airship that nearly burned down the city. Nobody blames you for that, mind—it’s the pirates who the insurers curse—but your reputation is linked more with that than with your tinkering now.”

  Kali slumped. “Oh.”

  Maybe he should have lied.

  A couple of claims farther along, a man and woman were loading gear onto a pair of pack mules. Cedar sat taller on his seat, peering over Kali’s head. These two might be heading into town for rations, or... they might have sold their claim and were clearing out. He didn’t see a tent.

  “Stop there,” he said.

  Kali nodded. “I see them.”

  She surprised him by driving straight across the waterway. The Bonanza Creek wasn’t deep that time of year, but he did have to lift his legs to keep them from being drenched. If not for the smokestack behind him, he might have pitched backward off the vehicle. As it was, he gripped Kali’s waist a little more fiercely than he had up to this part of the journey.

  She looked back, eyebrows raised. “Lady Pleaser, huh? You’re giving me bruises.”

  “If I were driving,” Cedar said, recovering his equilibrium as the tires rolled out of the creek on the far side, “I assure you that your riding experience would be smooth and bruise free.”

  “Uh huh. We’ll see.”

  He kept himself from saying, I certainly hope so, aloud. They were approaching the couple, a grimy pair with sweat-stained clothing and hair that hadn’t been washed in some time. Despite their hard-bitten appearance, they stood close to each other, as if for mutual support, and exchanged the looks that said more than words to those who had known each other long enough to decipher them. Honest, hard-working folks who hadn’t found any luck up here yet, Cedar guessed.

  As the bicycle drew nearer, he noticed a smudge of something besides dirt beneath their nails and wondered if his assessment might be in error. Was that gold dust? A couple of bumps bulged in the man’s pockets too. Rocks? Or a couple of prize nuggets they had pulled from the mud?

  One of the mules started braying at the SAB, and Kali had the sense to stop it farther away this time. Once again, Cedar let her hop off first. This time, she already had her notebook in hand.

  “Afternoon, folks,” she said. “I’m going to be traveling by air to Seattle soon, and I’m taking orders, planning to bring back some supplies, and I was wondering if you wanted to...” She peered around the claim, as if noticing the packed-up gear for the first time. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “Mining’s not for us,” the man said.

  An odd statement if those were gold nuggets in his pockets...

  “That’s too bad,” Kali said. “Say, is your claim for sale then? My partner and I might be interested in scratching at the rocks a spell.”

  “It’s already been sold,” the man said, stiffer than a corpse left on the tundra in January.

  “Do you know of any other claims for sale out here?” Kali asked.

  “No,” the woman said, “and we would appreciate it if you’d move on. We’ve got a lot of work to do. We have to be off the land by sundown.”

  “New owners coming out tonight?” Cedar asked.

  But the couple had pointedly turned their backs and resumed packing the mules.

  Kali gave Cedar a shrug and pointed to the SAB. Movement in the trees drew his eye. It might have been an animal, but it was early in the day for them to be moseying down to drink from the creek.

  “Wait here,” he said and took off up the slope, pebbles shifting and flying free beneath his feet. Anyone up there would see him coming, so he didn’t worry about moving soundlessly this time. He crossed the distance as quickly as possible, lest someone find him an appealing target for rifle practice.

  He ducked into the evergreens and raced for the area where he had seen movement. Not surprisingly, nobody was there, but when he knelt to check for tracks, he spotted small prints in the mud. Human prints. From their size, they must belong to a woman or, more likely, a boy.

  Cedar jogged off in the direction they headed, parallel to the creek, and kept an eye on them and an eye on his surroundings. Less than a minute had passed since he had seen the movement and breached the tree line, so he might be close enough to—

  There.

  He hopped a stump and charged toward an elbow sticking out from behind a tree. A startled s
quawk came from his prey before the small figure sprinted away from his hiding spot. Less than five feet tall, the boy couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, but Cedar didn’t get a good look. The youth tore away with impressive speed, almost losing the cap on his head.

  With his long legs, it didn’t take Cedar more than a few steps to catch up. He grabbed the child by the collar and hoisted him from his feet with one hand. This drew more squawks and an impressive amount of kicking and flailing. One of the stray boots connected with Cedar’s knee with enough force to draw a wince. He resisted the urge to thump the kid against a tree a few times, as he usually reserved such tactics for murderers and rapists, or at least people old enough to shave.

  “I see you’ve caught a truly dangerous criminal this time,” came Kali’s voice from the edge of the trees.

  “You wouldn’t say dangerous so sarcastically if you’d received one of his kicks,” Cedar said.

  “His?” Kali pointed at the boy’s face, which Cedar, holding his prey from behind, hadn’t seen yet. “I don’t think so.”

  “Eh?”

  Cedar rotated his captured spy, taking care to evade the flailing arms and legs. In the process, the youth’s cap fell off, revealing curls that tumbled about a dirty, impish face. A girl, yes, though beneath all that grime, it was hard to tell.

  “Easy, girl,” Cedar said. “We just want to know why you were spying on us.”

  “She was probably just out here playing,” Kali said.

  “Playing at spying on us? Her tracks were paralleling the river, coming from the same direction we came from.”

  “I just wanted to see the... thing.” The girl pointed through the trees.

  The SAB wasn’t in sight, but Cedar couldn’t imagine she meant anything else. It had arrested the interest of another youth on their last trip out of town, Tadzi. He had turned out to be a useful guide.

  The girl’s feisty arm flails stilled, and she stared up at Cedar with wide, innocent brown eyes. “Can you put me down, mister? Please?”

  “Er.” Cedar had a feeling the girl had used that look to get out of trouble before, but he couldn’t justify dangling her above the ferns all day. Besides, Kali was giving him a shouldn’t-you-be-picking-on-someone-within-a-foot-of-your-own-size look.

 

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