Silent Stranger

by Darty, Peggy;

  “I’ll remove my boots and leave them here by the door,” he said, preparing to remove the heavy work boots.

  Upon removing his boots, she saw that he had also brought along an extra pair of clean leather boots, and he was putting those on now. What a kind, considerate man he is, she thought as her heart beat faster.

  Turning for the stairs, she lifted her skirts and walked ahead of him, holding his present as though it were a precious treasure, which it was. When they entered the living room, she saw that Dorie had emerged from the kitchen and stood eagerly waiting to meet Joe. As Joe and Dorie faced one another for the first time, Dorie’s eyes widened for a moment and she tilted her head thoughtfully.

  As Ruth made the introductions and both responded, Dorie retained that same thoughtful expression. “I have the feeling we’ve met before, Mr. Spencer,” she said, eyeing him up and down.

  He stroked his whiskered chin. “I’m sure I would have remembered, Miss Farmer,” he said in his smooth southern drawl.

  “Dorie is a correspondent for the San Francisco Examiner.”

  “I see,” he said, shifting his eyes back to Ruth. “Then it’s possible we may have passed one another on a street in San Francisco,” he said.

  Ruth thought he seemed to be explaining the fact more to Ruth than Dorie, so she turned back for Dorie’s reaction.

  “Yes, that’s possible,” Dorie nodded. “Anyway, being a journalist, I don’t usually forget a face. Particularly a handsome one,” she added boldly.

  Ruth laughed and Joe joined in rather self-consciously. “Thank you. Nor am I inclined to forget a pretty woman like yourself.”

  Dorie ducked her head and blushed, obviously unaccustomed to such a compliment. Ruth smiled at Joe, knowing he was being kind. Dorie was many wonderful things, but pretty was not an adjective she would use to describe her.

  “How can I help in the preparations?” he asked as Ruth went to put his package under the tree.

  “If you’d like to wash up in the kitchen, I’ll give you a job,” she said. She had decided to let him join in the preparations so that he would feel more like he had a part in their celebration. “I haven’t had time to sweep the hall steps or the hall. If you wouldn’t mind the task, I’ll give that to you while Dorie and I finish with the meal.”

  “I’ll be happy to do that,” he said, accepting the homemade broom Dorie handed him.

  When the two women were alone in the kitchen, Dorie rolled her eyes. “You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking or so charming.”

  “I’m keeping that secret to myself,” Ruth teased back.

  While their meal was scant if compared to the other Christmas dinners Ruth had enjoyed throughout her life, Dorie and Joe complimented her and she, too, enjoyed the food. Afterwards, they settled down around the tree to open presents.

  At Ruth’s suggestion, Dorie opened her present first. Ruth had made a cloth cover for the journal that Dorie carried everywhere. When Dorie opened it, she was ecstatic.

  “I’m so grateful that my journal will be protected from the elements,” she said, beaming proudly. “Thank you, Ruth. Now you open yours.”

  Dorie had given Ruth a collection of recipes that she had organized into a neat little book. Ruth was delighted.

  “The recipes came from the Tlingit woman who accompanied her husband, guiding us over the Chilkoot. She was our cook, and I found some of her native dishes quite wonderful. Also, she had a very ingenuous way of preparing things. I copied down her methods, but not being a cook, I doubt that I will ever have use for them.” She laughed self-consciously as she looked at Joe, who smiled back at her.

  “Thank you so much, Dorie,” Ruth replied. “How thoughtful of you.”

  The remaining gift to be opened was from Joe, and Ruth hesitated. She had thought it improper to buy a gift for Joe, and now she felt a bit awkward in accepting one from him.

  “The gift is merely an acknowledgment of your kindness and that of your father,” he added. “They treated me with a back injury,” he explained to Dorie, “and I felt Doc never charged enough for his services.”

  Ruth smiled, grateful that he could explain away any improprieties of the gift. When she opened the paper, she found, wrapped in delicate tissue, a small pin fashioned from a gold nugget.

  She gasped, holding the tiny gleaming gold in the palm of her hand. “This is gorgeous.”

  Joe smiled, looking pleased that she liked his gift. “We are doing fairly well with our claim. The last time I was in Dawson, I stopped in at Mr. Bromberg’s little house, having heard he had been a jeweler in New York. He agreed to design the pin for me, and he did it rather quickly.”

  “But. . . ,” Ruth looked from Dorie to Joe, “I can’t accept anything this expensive. What about. . .” She had been about to suggest he send it to his mother, but she was dead. “Do you have any sisters?”

  Joe shook his head. “No, I don’t. You really shouldn’t be self-conscious about it. I’ve explained my motives. This is just a meager show of appreciation for what you and your father did for me.”

  “He’s right,” Dorie jumped in, eager to encourage Ruth. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t keep such a thoughtful gift.” She looked at Joe. “You must be one of the few who is doing well with your claim.”

  “I suppose I am,” he answered. As he spoke, Ruth thought his words held just a hint of formality. “I have a partner, Ivan Bertoff, a Russian gentleman who originally filed the claim. I think I’ve been lucky to join up with him.”

  Ruth sighed deeply, then covered the sigh with a smile when both Dorie and Joe looked at her. After Mrs. Green-wood and Arthur’s badgering, it was wonderful to hear the truth about his claim spoken in the presence of Dorie, who was sure to back her up or even spread the word herself.

  “I’m happy for you.” She was staring at him again, and both Ruth and Joe noticed. “I still have the odd feeling we have met. When did you arrive in the territory?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation. “The boat pulled into Dawson the first of August. I’m originally from San Francisco, but we already agreed that we must have passed one another in a shop somewhere and not realized it until now.”

  Dorie nodded, apparently satisfied by the answer. “I’m rather nondescript, let’s face facts. So it’s quite possible you wouldn’t remember me. Well,” she said, looking from Joe to Ruth, “I did promise the Fairhopes that I would drop in on them this afternoon for tea and spice cake.”

  She came to her feet, clutching Ruth’s gift to her chest. “It has been a wonderful Christmas.”

  Joe stood, then Ruth did, as well. For a moment, she felt a bit awkward. She hoped Dorie wasn’t inventing an excuse for her to be alone with Joe. She opened her mouth to say something, but there seemed to be no adequate response. She had no doubt the Fairhopes had invited Dorie for tea. Since the Fairhopes owned the local newspaper, it was quite logical they would invite Dorie to drop by on Christmas Day.

  “I’ve enjoyed spending part of the day with you,” Joe said to her.

  “Thank you.” That self-conscious look that often slipped over Dorie’s face in Joe’s presence returned as she hurried into her bedroom and began to rummage around.

  “I believe I’ll go down and bring up some of that firewood,” he said, turning for the door.

  “I’ll help,” Ruth offered.

  “It isn’t necessary,” Dorie called back, already busy in the kitchen.

  For the brief time she was alone in the living room, she admired her pin again. Then, to show her appreciation, she decided to wear it. She fastened the delicate clasp at the neck of her dress, and the little pin gleamed brilliantly against her white collar. She was literally soaring with joy over the wonderful day they had spent together. Thinking back, it was one of the finest Christmas Days ever.

  Dorie entered the room again, a box in her hand. “I save all of my newspaper articles,” she said, indicating the box. “I hope that doesn’t seem too vain, but I thought I’d take
over some of the articles I wrote about Skagway. Mr. Fairhope thought we might be able to use something in the paper here, since everyone is hungry for news of other areas, how they’ve done with gold mining, that sort of thing. Skagway had a rough time surviving last year, so perhaps seeing how those courageous people made do just may help the people here.”

  Joe’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Dorie glanced toward the open door.

  “He brought firewood,” Ruth explained, smiling.

  “He’s a gift from above.” The words formed on Dorie’s lips, though she did not voice them for Joe was entering the living room. He glanced at Dorie, who stood with her cloak on, preparing to leave. “I’ll just stoke up your fire in the stove,” he said to Ruth.

  “Good day, Mr. Spencer. I’ll be out for a while. I trust you’ll be here when I return and join us at the Christmas service?”

  A look of regret crossed his face. “I have to leave to return to the mine today. It will be getting dark soon. Will you be all right alone?” he asked with concern, looking at Dorie.

  “The Fairhopes will see me home, thank you.”

  There was only four hours of daylight now, and Ruth had begun to dread the darkness that seemed so interminable. She knew it was a long journey for him, and yet she wished he could stay.

  “You aren’t staying at Miss Mattie’s this time?” she asked, trying to keep a cheerful note to her voice.

  “No. With the bad weather, we’re very limited on our working hours. We have to take advantage of the short daylight and the fact that there’s no more snow right now.”

  “But how do you work with so much snow?”

  “We just have to keep fires going, dig, and windlass, but we are very limited in that and can only do so during the middle of the day, when the temperature is not as brutal.”

  “But it’s still brutal, isn’t it?” she asked, following him to the kitchen and watching as he put more wood into the stove. “I walked to the mercantile a few days ago and it was agony. I really don’t see how you do it.”

  He finished with the fire, closed the stove door, and wiped his hands on the old towel she handed him. “Ambition, I guess. And truthfully, I enjoy mining.”

  “Do you?” she asked, surprised to hear that. “So many consider it a drudgery and are in it only with the hope of getting rich quick.”

  He grinned as they walked back to the living room. “Well, that’s part of the reason I enjoy it, I suppose.”

  As they took their seats, Ruth studied his face, noting he was the only man with a beard whom she regarded as handsome. It seemed despite good barbers and conveniences of the city, Joe always managed to look good. His shoulder-length hair and thick beard, though neatly trimmed, did not make him less appealing to her.

  “You’ve asked if I plan to stay on in Dawson. What are your plans?” She had been so curious about him, wanting to know everything, yet reluctant to ask.

  “I want to return to San Francisco,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You do?” She was surprised by the answer, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. He had lived in San Francisco before.

  He nodded, looking across at the little Christmas tree. “I enjoyed ranch life and have ridiculous aspirations of someday owning a ranch.” He turned back to her with a grin. “I suppose it’s the love of land in my blood from generations of plantation owners. When my ancestors lost their land after the Civil War, they were never quite the same, or so I’ve been told. Anyway, there must be that need to own my own spot of ground.” He paused, looking toward the window where darkness was already beginning to gather. “If I can’t buy a small ranch, I hope to at least homestead a few acres and build a cabin. I think Ivan and I will make enough money for that.”

  She nodded, thinking of what he was saying. “That’s a realistic dream.” And it was his dream that turned her thoughts back to her own future. She had been worried sick about what she was going to do. She could sell the house here and the funds would sustain her for a while back in Seattle, but then what? She still had the house there, but it would need repairs, and there were her future needs to consider. She was trained for nursing, but now that held no appeal, either. What she really wanted was a husband and a family. She hadn’t realized she was staring at Joe until he spoke.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked gently. “Food in my beard?” he teased.

  She flushed and laughed softly. “I’m sorry. I was miles away, thinking of my future.”

  “And what is your future, may I ask?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Since I can’t depend on a bonanza from mining—” She broke off, suddenly remembering the claim her father had taken from a patient. It was tucked away in a bureau drawer; in fact, she had almost forgotten about it. Automatically, her eyes drifted toward her bedroom as her mind seized upon a plan. If Joe knew mining, was willing to work so hard to succeed at it, perhaps he was the person to consult. Of course he was!

  “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, getting up and hurrying into the bedroom. Opening the middle drawer of her chest, she moved aside a layer of undergarments and retrieved the piece of paper that neither she nor even her father had taken very seriously.

  Gripping it in her hands, glancing over it, she walked back into the living room. “Would you please take a look at this?”

  His brows lifted as she handed the paper to him. He scanned it then looked at her in surprise. “It’s a claim that’s located not far from ours. I believe that should be a good area.”

  Ruth smiled, pleased with that news. “A miner with tuberculosis gave it to my father in payment for treating him for a week before he departed, saying he never wanted to see this area again. He was a very sick man, and my father gave him money for boat passage back to the States. That’s when he gave us the claim.”

  She went back to her seat. “I don’t think my father thought much of it. He had probably even forgotten about it when you asked if he had any aspirations to be a miner. He had heard so many stories of men about to strike it rich, only to watch them come back empty-handed and terribly ill.”

  She touched the gold nugget at her neck. “You obviously know what you’re doing. Would you be interested in taking me on as a partner?”

  He stared at her for a moment as though he couldn’t believe what she had asked. Then his eyes dropped to the claim, and he read it again. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally replied. “I would be honored to be your partner. And I will do my best with this.” He indicated the paper. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else you want to do business with?”

  She laughed. “Not unless Clarence Berry is interested, and I believe he is currently enjoying his wealth in another area.” Her laughter died away as she looked at him seriously. “No one else has brought me firewood, or a present on Christmas Day, or been the gentleman that you have been. I’m certain that you’re the one I want to entrust my claim to, although it may be worthless. I don’t want to waste your time.”

  Joe stared at the claim again. The location was prime, although these things were always a gamble. The emotion he had felt for Ruth was brimming up inside him now. If she were that honest with him, how could he be less with her? He had to tell her about the incident in Skagway.

  He drew a deep breath, wondering how to begin.

  “Why don’t I make us some coffee?” she suggested.

  He shook his head. “I’m learning to enjoy plain tea.”

  “Good. I have more tea than coffee. There’s very little coffee left, and Dorie and I limit ourselves to half a cup of very weak coffee each morning in order to wake up.”

  “And I’ll not deprive you of that,” he said, standing. “I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

  As he walked behind her, his eyes roamed over her shining auburn hair, the straight back and tiny waist, the slim hips in her flowing skirt. He had to tell her, he had to. But how? How could he make her understand? And if she knew, it would be her duty to contact the Mounties. Would
she do that? He suspected that she would not; on the other hand, she wouldn’t go through with their partnership on the mining claim.

  Looking down, his mind weighed the alternatives. If she were willing to trust him with the claim, he might be the only one who would deal honestly with her. And if the claim made them rich, he could go back to Skagway, hire a decent attorney, face the truth. Or he could get on the boat with her and return to the States. Given those choices, he could not bring himself to be honest enough, or reckless enough, to throw away a bright future.

  By the time they took their seats at the table and sipped tea, he had carefully folded the claim and put it in his breast pocket, buttoning down the flap.

  “I promise you I will work hard on this claim—”

  “It isn’t necessary to make any promises. You’ve proven you are a hard worker. Just don’t make yourself ill like the last man who owned it. And really, Joe, I have nothing to lose. That claim has just been occupying space in the drawer. When I leave next spring, I doubt that I would be able to get a fair price for it.” She sighed. “I’ve heard how people take advantage of widows with mining claims, and in some ways I’m very much like those widows.”

  He reached across, covering her soft hand with his. “But you are not a widow. And to my enormous good fortune, you are not betrothed.”

  He looked into her eyes and felt his love for her filling every corner of his heart. Maybe he couldn’t tell her about Skagway just yet, but he could share his feelings for her and he would be honest in what he said.

  “Ruth, this has been the most special Christmas of my life.”

  She gasped, and her eyes widened. “Surely as a boy with your family—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I was not with the woman I loved. And I do love you, Ruth.”

  As her cheeks colored at those words, he rushed on. “I want you to know I’m not speaking impulsively or dishonestly. I’ve had many long nights to think about this, to think of you and nothing else. Please forgive me if I’m being too forward. I don’t want to embarrass or offend you.”