In the Land of Gold

by Angela Christina Archer

  Like needles stabbing repeatedly, all my exposed skin stung and sweat froze under my clothes, chilling me from the inside. Step after step the cold numbed more of me, inch by inch until finally the mountain’s brutality overwhelmed me.

  “I can’t climb anymore.” I hollered over the howling wind and shook my head. Flynn turned me into his body, wrapping his arms around me and held me tight.

  “It’s not so much farther. I swear to yeh.” His hot breath brushed my cheek as I buried my face into his neck. “We’ve got to keep going, Cora. Yeh got to keep going.”

  Methodically, he edged me away, turning me, but kept my back tight against his chest, pressing me to keep moving up.

  The further up we traveled the steeper the path became, so steep that instead of walking, we clawed our way on our hands and knees. Exhausted and in severe pain, tears streamed down my cheeks, freezing into ice on my face.

  My hands dug into the snow, reaching for the next step, when someone’s hand wrapped around my wrist. They pulled hard, knocking me off my knees, and dragged my body over the crest of the mountain. I lay in the snow, exhausted, and through painful gasps, struggled to breathe.

  Flynn climbed up behind me, knelt and scooped me into his arms, wrapping them tight as I melted into his chest.

  “Yeh made it to the top,” he whispered.

  Devoid of thought and speech, my body shivered uncontrollably.

  “She needs to get warm before getting in the sled. Can yeh get a fire started?”

  Payuk nodded. “Aye!” and trotted off.

  “Snow!” he called out. “Where is that bloody dog? Snow!” he shouted, repeating her name a few times. My teeth chattered together, drowning out all other sound. Flynn stood, picking me up with him, and followed Payuk’s footprints in the light layer of snow that had dusted the mountain peak.

  Firelight flickered in the distance. The howls and barks of several dogs rose above the wind, then got louder and louder until Payuk shouted at them to quite down.

  Flynn set me down on the hard wooden slab of the sled next to the fire. He pulled out all the blankets from the packs and wrapped each one around me.

  Heat radiated from the crackling fire, built so close to the sled for protection from the wind, and at times the wind teased of catching the sled on fire.

  Payuk began leading the dogs over one by one, strapping them together on long leather lines as Flynn loaded the packs onto the sled, then knelt beside me.

  “Payuk is going to take yeh to his wife, Dika. He’ll take good care of yeh, and she’ll be able to treat the scurvy.”

  “You aren’t coming with me?”

  “No. I’ve got to get all our supplies up here and onto my sled.” He pointed to a pack of dogs.

  They stood at attention, waging their tails as if to ask if they were leaving, too. Their whines and barks combined with the others so well, I hadn’t taken notice of them, until now.

  “I won’t be more than a couple days behind yeh, then we can leave the village and continue to Dawson. All right?”

  “All right.” My eyes locked onto his. Still perfect, they drew me in, even more than they’d ever done before.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking away.

  “Sorry for what?” Flynn asked.

  “That I’m nothing but trouble for you.”

  He smiled a rather annoyingly amazing smile. “Well fortunately for yeh, I kind of like trouble. It keeps life interesting.”

  “We’re all set.” Payuk threw the leather lead over my head, then stepped onto the back of the sled. The dogs began barking and jumping wildly, anxious for the command setting them free to run.

  “Dleit káa kusaxán shaawát,” Flynn said to Payuk.

  “I’ll take good care of her.” Payuk smiled and nodded. “Lki yee daadéi kusaxán guganaa Woosh géidei kusaxan ku.aa wés Yei kukgwastée.”

  “What did he say?” My teeth chattered.

  Flynn adjusted my hat, and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear.

  “One way love will die, but love for each other, for long living, for a long time.”

  As the team jerked the sled into motion, I glanced back to wave goodbye to Flynn. For the first time, my heart ached.

  Chapter 18

  “Cora,” Dika called out. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  Lying under a pile of blankets on the makeshift bed, I sat up as the flap of the teepee opened and Dika slipped in. Short and petite, the older woman’s many layers of winter clothing seemed to get in the way of her everyday chores.

  Snow, who had been lying beside me, jumped to her feet and trotted out of the opening before it closed. I didn’t blame her. If truth be told, envy proved the only thought in my head as I watched her disappear. Freedom from the confines of animal skin and wood stakes would be a blessing.

  With the canteens of juice and hearty meals that kept my stomach full all hours of the day, the consuming sickness had faded away.

  Days and nights blurred together between my moments of consciousness and sleep. By the fourth day, the inside of my teepee was beginning to devour me, closing in and causing an anxious need for the sun and fresh air.

  In another time not too long ago, the thought of lying around all day played like a blissful fairy tale over the back breaking work of trudging up a mountain. Not anymore, though. Work, hard work, had stirred my blood, leaving me restless.

  “You feel better?” Dika asked.

  “Yes. I feel good, really good. I was thinking of taking a walk around the village today.”

  My heart fluttered at her hesitation. Would she say no again? Would she keep me locked up, yet another day, or allow me the liberation I so desperately longed for?

  Without uttering a single word, Dika bent over, fetched my boots, and handed them to me with a smile.

  “Don’t forget coat.” The ever-present twinkle in her eye sparkled a little bit brighter as I stuffed my feet into the supple leather soles and began threading the laces.

  “You hungry, Cora?”

  “No,” I laughed, clutching my stomach. “I’m still quite full from breakfast. Thank you, though.”

  She nodded, grabbing a few of the blankets off the bed, and turned to leave. “I’ll have these back shortly.”

  “Dika?” I called after her. “You haven’t . . . I mean, have you heard . . . is he—”

  “I haven’t.” She cocked her head to the side and slightly shook her head.

  Saddened by her answer, I nodded and bit my lip.

  “Flynn will get here, Cora. He’s traveled the trail alone for many years. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “I know.” Without a doubt, Flynn was, well, Flynn. If anyone was capable of trekking the trail, it was him. However, he was only supposed to be a couple of days behind me. Already feeling the pressure of my confinement, not knowing where he was made every second worse.

  “You miss him.” The smile on her face embarrassed me more than the question I’d been so hesitant to ask.

  “No, no. He’s . . . he’s my guide, Dika.”

  She sighed and nodded, knowingly. “I denied Payuk in the beginning, too—didn’t know if my head felt the same as my heart. A foolish thought, in the end.”

  “I’m not . . . that’s not what—” I bit my tongue. I could have argued with her a few months ago, but not now.

  “When the day come you don’t wish to lie to yourself, then you’ll allow the truth.”

  “I don’t think I’m lying to myself.”

  She snickered and shook her head, her long black braids flapped against her shoulders.

  “Dika, I’m going for my walk now.”

  “Ah!” She wagged her finger at me. “Dress warm. The sun is nice, but the day is cold.�
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  I slipped the fur skin over my shoulders that had been given to me when I first arrived. Pushing all thought from my head, I flipped my long curls out from underneath, and inhaled deeply as I finally stepped into the sunlight.

  Located along the river, most of the teepees in the village lined the sandy bank. The pointed, crisscross poles at the top towered over my head by several feet. The cream colored rawhide stood out against the green tree line and leaden-blue sky.

  As I continued through the village, more and more people nodded their greeting. They smiled, but kept their distance from the young stranger rumored to have traveled on the arm of their treasured friend, Flynn O’Neill.

  Each tribe member I passed was busy doing something, cooking, cleaning fish and other food, making tools, or washing clothes.

  The only people free of any chores were the children, or at least the young children, who ran around the village with barking dogs nipping at their heels.

  Their amusement buzzed through a smoky haze lingering all around the village as they darted and weaved through racks of stretching animal skins and drying fish. The older children, however, worked alongside their parents.

  I returned their welcoming nods and escaped to the sandy shore of the river. Flowing calmly over the rocks, the water was crystal-clear and ice cold, a peaceful, yet, harsh splendor.

  Calm tranquil water that could freeze you to death in minutes. Kind of like a wolf that could keep you warm or kill you in seconds, or a knife that could protect you or slice your throat. The river offered the beauty of life or the pain of death, both on the same flip of a coin.

  A few women downstream filled several buckets along the shallow edge of the water. They quickly picked out the rocks they’d scooped up by mistake and tossed them back into the depths. Laughing with one another, they ignored my watchful presence and continued their chores.

  Snow trotted to my side and sat at my feet, looking out at the vast wilderness—a breathtaking, uncharted splendor.

  “Do you know where he is?” I asked her.

  She glanced up at me and grunted a low howl-like bark. I sat in the sand next to her, not caring that it wasn’t exactly dry, and ran my fingers through her long fur. How she read his mind, I would never know. I suppose that was the reason for the mystery. Secrets can’t be secrets if everyone knows them.

  Upstream, a man in a canoe floated toward the shoreline. He jumped out a few feet before reaching the sand and waded through the water. One arm tugged on the bow of the tiny vessel and the other held up a bunch of hooked fish dangling from fishing lines.

  A woman greeted him with an embrace so powerful it knocked them both to the ground. They lay in each other’s arms, laughing, kissing, and embracing their reunion in pure joy.

  Their passion fluttered in my own heart, slapping me in the face with an honesty I had yet to accept.

  Deep down, I missed love.

  I missed all the comfort and happiness it brought to a life, giving one a reason to look forward to waking up every morning for the rest of her days. Love is a precious gift held dear to the fortunate ones who are lucky enough to find it.

  The couple’s laughter cut like a sharp blade, further reminding me of what I’d chosen to cast aside. Of course, it was easy to cast it aside when I wasn’t surrounded by it, but these last few days in a village of husbands and wives had only ignited a deep sense of loss in my chest.

  Yes, I missed love. And, honestly, even more than I missed love, I missed Flynn.

  Surely, I missed the security and safety of being in his company, but my longing was more than that. I missed him, missed his smile, and his humor, however annoying it was. More importantly, I missed his utter belief and confidence that I was capable of more than I ever thought.

  My desire for Flynn grew every day. Dika was right all along. I had lied to myself, and while I once believed I didn’t want to allow the truth, I actually did very much.

  I loved Flynn, and had for a long time. I only needed to admit it to myself.

  Snow trotted off toward the couple, now walking toward me with their arms wrapped around one another. Her giant paws made impressions in the sand, impressions that were the size of my hand.

  The man smiled at the she-wolf, unhooked a fish, and threw it on the ground for her. He spoke a few words to her and chuckled as she scooped up the fish and trotted toward the line of trees. The couple watched her trot off, as I did, and then they vanished inside a teepee on the edge of the village.

  I continued to sit in the sand until the sun rode low on the horizon. My mind drew heavy with thoughts of Flynn, his whereabouts, and of Mother, Father, Anne, and even Christopher.

  Had Christopher forgotten about me? Surely, he had. He probably had another woman on his arm by now. Yes, surely, he had forgotten about me.

  Mother, however, was more of an unknown. After slamming the door in her face, she stomped away from Anne’s house and climbed into the carriage with Christopher. A small part of me expected another visit from her, or at least a letter, but neither event ever happened.

  I dug my fingers into the sand and slid them around a few rocks, tracing patterns with my nails. For all I knew, I was nothing more than a distant memory to both of them.

  Good-bye, past. Good-bye, forever.

  Twilight faded into darkness and the night came alive with life in the camp. A bonfire, burning so bright it lit up the night sky, replaced the candle and lantern lights and filled the cold air with smoke.

  Orange and yellow reflected on the water and danced upon the ripples while everyone gathered around the fire, celebrating with food, whiskey, songs, and mirth.

  I followed the sound, weaving through the teepees toward the party. Children ran around laughing and yelling in excitement, waving sticks with glowing embers on the tips.

  An older woman approached. She spoke words I didn’t understand, and smiled as she handed me a long, square shaped animal bone with cooked meat on one end.

  I took the bone and graciously returned her smile. The meat mixed with scents of fresh herbs smelled divine, and I ripped a few chunks off with my teeth as I continued to walk around.

  A couple of little girls giggled as they passed me, amused over the mess on my face. Their long black braids flapped from side to side, as they looked from each other to me and then back to each other, whispering.

  I thought of my old self, the shy weak girl that taunted my insecurities not too long ago. With her evil smile that played on my embarrassment, she would have loved to revel in this moment, mocking me with her heckling.

  Yes, she would have loved this.

  And yet, she remained silent. Forced into her hushed new life she had vanished, never to return.

  As I watched the girls with a smile on my face, the tone and actions in the village changed. Loud greetings, spoken in a familiar Irish accent, warmed my heart.

  Flynn.

  I offered the nearly meatless bone to a dog before striding toward the shouts of joy. My heart fluttered. After days of not knowing where he was, he had finally arrived. While a part of me wanted to run to him, my feet wouldn’t move and my head told them not to.

  I knew my feelings, but I didn’t know his.

  Just before reaching the bonfire, I peeked around a teepee to keep out of sight. Several tribe members smiled and waved at him as he walked around returning their excitement and show of pleasure in his arrival.

  At the end of the greeting line, Dika’s arms stretched wide to embrace him with love and kindness. They chatted and laughed, sharing an exchange I couldn’t hear. He seemed at home here—a vastly different man than I’d seen before.

  Dika’s enthusiasm grew more animated as they continued their conversation. She turned and pointed toward my teepee, obviously answering the question of my whereabouts. He hugged her ti
ghtly and kissed her cheek before setting off in the direction she’d pointed.

  Panic stole my breath. I couldn’t possibly get to my teepee before him. Not without being seen and how pathetic would it be to get caught sneaking around.

  Should I run away? Should I go to him?

  Before my thoughts could wrap around a single choice, a young woman appeared at Flynn’s side, wrapping one arm around his waist before rising to her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

  Her other hand seductively wandered his arm, gliding down the sleeve with a soft caress that stopped my heart. With every touch of her fingertips and by the sway in her hips, her intentions were clear. She was out for a night of enjoyment with him, enticing him with every ounce of her body.

  Unable to breathe, unable to move, my hand trembled as it gripped the pole of the teepee I hid behind.

  She touched his face, grazing his neck, and letting her fingertips play with a lock of his hair. With her other hand still clutching his arm, she cocked her head to the side in a ‘Come-on’ motion.

  He smiled at her, but didn’t move an inch—his feet firmly rooted where he stood.

  Would he walk away with her? The terrifying notion churned in my stomach.

  As she spoke to him, he glanced in a few directions and pointed around the crowed. Her smile faded with his hesitation, and she released his arm.

  My eyes locked with his and I lost my breath. I scrambled back behind the teepee and turned to run. Footsteps followed me, but I ignored them as I returned to my borrowed bedroom.