In the Land of Gold

by Angela Christina Archer

  Glancing around, I nodded, and pressed my wadded up handkerchief against my nose. “You know, no matter how one believes they are prepared for death, the sight of a lifeless body leaves a hole in your spirit that sneaks up and catches you off guard.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”

  “I’ve seen enough dead bodies in my life. The sight doesn’t really affect me, not anymore.”

  “But the horses had lived, once. They breathed air, moved across the land, and each of their hearts beat deep within their chests just like my pack horses, and just like my own heart.”

  “I doubt their life was the greatest. They worked until their demise and were discarded after they died.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “Miss Colton, death comes to us all, and it’s inevitable.”

  I tried to think of an argument, but I couldn’t. He had a point.

  Flynn’s ever-faithful she-wolf, Snow, trotted across each of the bodies, indifferent to the choking stench. Her breathless movements glided across the earth in a flawless, steady sequence. To have such a gift would be the dream, to have any gift at this point, would be, though, in this desolate land.

  “She isn’t affected by the hardships of life, is she?”

  “Not in the slightest,” he laughed.

  “We should all be that fortunate.”

  “I believe we are, we only need to realize it.” His lips half grimaced and half smiled. “Have yeh not yet found any peace out here?”

  “My solace should be the frontier. The wild splendor of freedom at my fingertips, but it isn’t.”

  “But, here, you’re boundless.”

  “With this land comes freedom, but it is freedom for the strong hunters, not the weak prey.”

  He gave me a slight nod in agreement, but shrugged his shoulders. “The weak can always grow stronger. If they only believe in themselves and put forth the effort.”

  As he strolled away from me, I inhaled a deep breath. Disbelief in his words stung, and it annoyed me. Each mile brought doubt, mocking me with the feeling that all my choices in traveling here proved more of a mistake than not.

  But, they shouldn’t.

  I stopped in my tracks. Flynn continued on, unaware I wasn’t following. Perhaps, he was right. The weak can always grow stronger.

  And, I can grow stronger.

  The days passed slowly and instantly at the same time—if I could even explain that foolish notion. Days were lengthy and arduous, and yet fleeting, considering what little distance we traveled. The nights grew colder, requiring an extra blanket in order to sleep and get a good night’s rest.

  Although, climbing in between the blankets each night was never overly difficult, I suppose, no matter the temperature. Trekking through the frontier made sleep easy, and a few nights, I’d nearly fallen asleep with my dinner plate clenched in my hands.

  Flynn was gracious, and kind. He didn’t argue, didn’t use a combative tone, or mock me at my expense. Nothing but encouraging smiles and help whether I asked for it, wanted it, or not. He offered his knowledge without hesitation and waved off my repeated apologies.

  The kindness was more annoying than the lack of it. Not that I didn’t appreciate the effort, but to me, his good will out of pity was the worst type of kindness—insincere, even though someone probably would argue with me about that.

  I cringed with the thought that he bestowed his benevolence, not because he desired to, but because I lost my mind in a moment of weakness.

  I had turned into a blithering little girl crying about lost years with my daddy and my lying mommy who never allowed me my wishes. My tantrum had continued as I turned into some helpless, teenager crying that her boyfriend, the one and only man in this world she was stupid enough to believe loved her, didn’t.

  Each word from my outburst repeated like a nightmare from which I couldn’t wake—twisting in my stomach, stealing my hunger and sometimes my breath, and robbing me of the ability to look Flynn in the eye without crippling embarrassment.

  The thought of anyone witnessing me at my ultimate worst was horrible. If I could seize the moment back, I would. If I could turn back time and travel to the second the levy broke and the stress crashed down, snapping my emotional wall, I would.

  To add salt to my emotional wounds, helping me meant he was near me, and more often than not, his arms wrapped around me as he gave his instructions. Each time our hands touched, electricity jolted through me no matter how hard I tried to prepare myself.

  Surrounded by nature, the alluring scent of his skin made my heart race. With my mind fuzzed by the heat of his body, holding my breath proved a hopeless option and simply caused more dizziness.

  I never knew what was worse, my embarrassment or my attraction.

  “Sheep Camp is just over the hill,” Flynn said over his shoulder.

  At last, finally I’ll have a distraction from humiliation.

  Arriving at Sheep Camp, we weaved through the dozens of tents already pitched in every direction. Men, women, even children, came out of their tents to see us. Some nodded in greeting, while others simply ignored us and continued about their business.

  A few cast aside their own chores to help us. Shaking Flynn’s hand, they offered us canteens of water or bottles of whiskey, which I adamantly refused.

  Out of the sea of unknown faces peered a familiar one from behind the back of a small horse. Rhett’s smile beamed at me in the distance just as crooked as I remembered. His strawberry blond hair was still a curly mess, but his beard had grown since I’d left him on the beach the day we arrived in Skagway.

  “Ya made it to Sheep Camp,” Rhett teased as he approached us. His cheeky grin faded as he looked from me to Flynn.

  “Did you doubt my ability?” I asked.

  “Honestly?” His eyebrows rose with his amused pause. “Yes.”

  “That is a completely rude thing to say.” I laughed, hoping to hide my agreement with his assumption.

  I doubted myself every second of every day, but I would rather skin myself alive than admit it.

  Rhett glanced at Flynn and nodded a rather unwelcoming hello. His ridged stance softened, though, as Snow trotted to Flynn’s side and sat down. A low rumble emanated from deep within her chest, and Rhett took a step back.

  “We’d best be one our way, Miss Colton.” Flynn spun on his heeled boot and strode away.

  “Where are we going?” I hurried to follow him, and tugged his sleeve.

  “To set up camp on the ridge above the ravine.”

  “Why are we not setting camp with the rest?”

  “Because I don’t want to be among the rest.”

  “But, there’s safety in numbers, Mister,” Rhett’s brows furrowed. “I’d sure think ya’d want Miss Colton to be safe and all.”

  “And, who are yeh, again?” Flynn cocked his head to one side and glared at Rhett.

  “Name’s Rhett Garrison. Just moved up here to help my brother with his horse pack business.”

  “The young lad working for John Feero?”

  “Yep, that’s my brother, Oddie.”

  “Well, Rhett, I’m quite aware of the safety precautions needed on the trail, hence we’re not setting up camp with the rest. Besides, how I guide my client isn’t any of your concern.”

  Rhett’s smirk vanished, and the two men faced one another, their arms crossed, staring with fierce determination—neither of them willing to concede to the other.

  Jealousy was never an attractive feature, and it certainly did neither man justice.

  I cleared my throat. “Why . . . uh, why don’t you think we should set camp with the group, Mr. O’Neill?”

  “Being in a ravine is dangerous,” he growled thr
ough gritted teeth, pointing to the tents lined along the riverbank.

  “That’s absurd,” Rhett disagreed. “My brother staked camp jus’ right over there. He’s been on this trail nearly six months. If he thought it was dangerous, he wouldn’t have set camp where he did.”

  “And, how many times have you been up the trail?” Flynn all but snorted his question. Skinny boy had plenty to learn, and so did his brother.

  Rhett grit his teeth, looked away, and then scuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt. He was as much of a beginner as I was, and even if his brother had experience, he had no business questioning another man.

  Tension thickened, and Flynn picked some dirt from under his fingernails as he chuckled and waited for Rhett’s answer.

  Perhaps, in another time, Flynn’s look of disinterest would be amusing. Tonight, though, it was downright disrespectful. I suppose Rhett hadn’t yet earned any respect, or the right to it from Flynn, but still he was an acquaintance of mine.

  “Mr. O’Neill,” I said, stepping between the two men. “It might be nice to camp with a few other people, have some dinner, perhaps some conversation, and socialize for an evening.”

  “We can pitch ya tent right next to ours. My bother has already started dinner, and I can see to ya horses.” Rhett stretched his hand out toward Flynn to take the lead lines—a move I knew wouldn’t bode well with Flynn.

  I blocked Rhett’s hand, catching his attention for a second, and shook my head. The less he said or did right now the better, and now was not the time to grab for Flynn’s horses.

  I glanced at Flynn, biting my lower lip. “Mr. O’Neill—”

  Flynn laughed and raised his hand to silence me. I caught my breath. His laugh wasn’t out of amusement, but out of annoyance and anger.

  “Do as yeh wish, Miss Colton,” he said, seizing the line to one of my horses. “That horse has what you’ll need, I’m keeping the other.”

  “Mr. O’Neill—”

  “Go ahead, trust the word of a man who’s never even traveled the trail.” He strode off with Snow following him with her smooth gate.

  My eyes followed Flynn, but my conscience held me to the common graces. “Excuse me, Rhett, I’ll be back shortly,”

  I then called out as I followed Flynn. “Mr. O’Neill, wait!” He kept marching through the clearing, ignoring me for several yards.

  As we reached the protection of the trees, he finally turned around to face me. I waited for him to speak, but he just stood there, shaking his head and staring at me.

  “Why are you so against setting up camp with other people?” I finally asked.

  “I told yeh why,” he snapped. “I won’t repeat myself, Miss Colton.”

  “But—”

  “Nor will I stand here and argue with yeh about it.”

  For a second, the world around us disappeared. The forest, the horses, all replaced with the image of Mother’s parlor with its expensive furniture, and always in the room in which I’d receive her most stern lectures.

  Just as with Mother, and just as with Christopher, yet again, I stood in front of someone who was determined to have me see events their way and only their way.

  “Well, I want to set up camp with the others.” I refused to yield to the yoke of anyone’s control.

  “So, go ahead.”

  “But, aren’t you supposed to . . . I don’t know . . . set up camp with me?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed and regretted them.

  “Huh?” Flynn asked.

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “We aren’t chained to one another, Miss Colton. You’re free to do whatever yeh chose.” He grunted, then cleared his throat. “It’s not like I care.”

  “Why did you agree to be my guide, then?”

  “Had nothing better to do,” Flynn shrugged.

  Flynn’s answer was simple, and it stung—a brazenly harsh sting that bothered me more than I wanted to admit. His words nicked my heart as surely as if a blade had punctured my flesh. I should’ve welcomed the fact that he didn’t care for me, because I shouldn’t care for him.

  And, you don’t Cora, you don’t care for him.

  He gave me a look of indifference before turning away. Fighting back tears and the urge to follow him, I forced myself to return to the campsite. Rhett met me with an annoying smile of victory. I wanted to slap him.

  “Why’d ya pick him for your guide?” Rhett inquired as I stomped toward him.

  “I didn’t have any other options at the time.”

  “He hasn’t been . . . I mean, he’s treated ya like a lady, right?”

  “He has.” I shrugged my shoulders. “He can be just a little rough around the edges.”

  “That didn’t sound very convincing. Cora, if he—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Mr. O’Neill, Rhett. I’m tired and hungry. What can I do to help?”

  An hour later, I rested my rump on a log in front of my pitched tent as I warmed my frozen toes next to a fire. My dinner plate was full of biscuits and bacon, both seasoned better than anything Flynn had ever cooked.

  I glanced toward the trees where he had disappeared, and my leg twitched with a nervous energy. I adjusted my seat several times—unable to sit still for more than a few seconds.

  Was he angry with me? Would he continue guiding me, or leave me to the mercy of Rhett and his brother? I cleared my throat, set my plate down, stood, paced for a second, and then sat back down.

  Why did I care what he thought? His opinion should mean nothing to me.

  Rhett sat next to me with his own plate laden with food, and without hesitation, he began scooping bites of biscuits into his mouth and chewed with his mouth slightly open.

  “How long ya reckon ya’ll stay in Sheep Camp?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. After dinner, I’ll find Mr. O’Neill and discuss when we’ll be leaving.”

  “I asked my brother if he knew Mr. O’Neill. I guess he’s an all right guide. Doesn’t care much for followin’ others,” Rhett laughed at his own joke for a second and then his smile faded. “Just don’t let him talk ya into goin’ alone off the trail, I mean. The trail ain’t no place for a woman who don’t know what she’s doin’.”

  “I’m fully capable of taking care of myself,” I snapped.

  Rhett laughed, piquing my annoyance.

  “Why is everyone so determined to tell me what I can’t do?” I didn’t mean for my voice to rise to a shout, but it did, and I stood just to further drive my point.

  “Well now just wait a minute, I—”

  “Good night, Rhett.” I raised the flat of my hand, cutting him off, then marched toward my tent.

  “Wait, Cora, don’t leave. Cora!”

  “I said, good night.”

  As I reached for the open flap of canvas, Rhett called out. “Actually, it’s good bye.”

  I turned to face him. “Good bye?”

  “My brother and I are headin’ back to Skagway in the mornin’.”

  “Why?”

  “Business. Seems we’ll make more money sellin’ horses as we travel back and forth from Skagway to Sheep Camp, than up in Dawson City. Maybe one day we’ll have enough for a claim, but for now, we don’t, so there’s no sense in goin’ up there.”

  He shoved his hands in both of his pockets and kicked a rock with his foot. “So, I guess . . . this is good bye. Good luck up there . . . in Dawson, I mean.”

  “Um, thank you. And good luck to you, too.”

  “Cora, I never meant . . . you’re goin’ to do jus’ fine on your own. I never should’ve said otherwise.”

  “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have been so quick with my temper. My serious lack of ability has been a rather touchy subject lately, but that’s not your fault
. I’m just . . . tired.”

  I stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t. He simply smiled, fetched his plate off the log, and sauntered off into the darkness.

  A confusing lump formed in my throat as I entered my tent. I never saw Rhett as a suitor or a man to spend my life with.

  I hadn’t really thought about him since I left him lying on the beach, but I’d assumed he would be the friend and familiar face in Dawson I might eventually need. Such a sinfully selfish thought, but one I thought nonetheless.

  But now, the reality was pure and simple, whether wanted or not, I was alone.

  Given my intentions the last few weeks, this particular notion should be a comforting gift. Why leave Tacoma if it wasn’t to strike out on my own and to make my own life? Isn’t that what I always wanted? To be alone?

  Good-bye Mother, good-bye Christopher, good-bye Anne, and good-bye to all love and companionship, both known and unknown.

  Yes, it was what I desired and still did, though I suppose friendships would make life a little easier, like tonight for instance. I was still alone, and yet, able to have a conversation with a friend.

  I pulled my boots off, laid down on the wooden box Rhett gave me to sleep on so I wouldn’t be on the ground, and tugged the blankets up to my chest.

  “Certainly, I will make other friends,” I mumbled to myself. “Certainly, I can allow myself that much.”

  Chapter 13

  Why do I hear water?