Just After Midnight: Historical Romance

by Lori Handeland

  What the hell? he thought, and lowered his head.

  Boom. The volume of the sound shook the building, and they jumped away from each other. The wolf barked, then began to howl as the thunderous vibrations continued. Alex grabbed Megan’s hand, and together they ran toward the front door of the dance hall in the wake of the crowd.

  People filled the streets, cheering, dancing, and waving American flags. The Fourth of July had arrived. Every few minutes another cannon blast rent the air, and the noise of the crowd increased as their excitement mounted.

  “What on earth is that horrible sound?” Megan put her hands to her ears.

  “Blasting powder most likely. If you put the powder between two anvils and then run a red-hot iron between them—” He paused as another boom resounded from the end of the street. “That’s the sound you get.”

  A long, mournful howl ruptured the momentary stillness, and Alex looked toward The Celebration. Damon sat in the doorway, his nose turned up to the sky.

  “Damon, go upstairs and be quiet.” Megan waved her hand at the animal. “Go on, now.”

  The black beast cocked its head at Alex, then narrowed its eyes as though wondering if the human were trustworthy. When another blast resounded, he pulled back his lips in a snarl of warning before trotting back into the building.

  Megan sighed. “Will this go on all night?”

  “Probably. Then tomorrow there’ll be a picnic with footraces and other track events. Should be quite a day.”

  “Races? Well, that should make people thirsty, especially if this heat keeps up.”

  “Do you ever think about anything but money?”

  “What else is there?” Megan’s glare dared him to contradict her.

  “There’s dogs swimming the river!” someone shouted as the crowd streamed toward the water.

  “Damn,” Alex swore. “I’d best get down there and find out what the trouble is.”

  “I’m going with you,” Megan shouted above the crowd’s roar and the blasting powder’s thunder.

  Alex paused to argue, then shrugged and set off toward the docks. He didn’t have time to debate the issue with her. If she wanted to slog through the mud in her white satin, that was her choice.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Stay near me. Since you sent your wolf home, these men might decide to do some touching while the touching’s good.”

  She hesitated at his words, but a cheer from the crowd ahead had him hurrying away and Megan had no choice but to follow as he dragged her along.

  He pushed his way to the front of the mass of people at the river’s edge and was shocked at the sight that met his eyes. Hundreds of dogs swam frantically for the opposite bank.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Megan asked.

  “The noise frightened ‘em and they took off for the water,” one of the miners answered. When the man turned to see who had asked the question, his eyes nearly popped from his head. “Meggie O’Day! Praise be, girl, ain’t you a picture!”

  Alex grimaced but said nothing. Since attention was what Megan wanted in that costume, she could deal with any results on her own, as long as the men didn’t get too forward. He watched as she smiled and spoke with the man softly. She laughed and the sound sent shivers down Alex’s spine. Resolutely, he turned back to the river, then attempted to disperse the crowd.

  When he looked for Megan a few moments later, she was nowhere to be seen. A shard of panic shot through his chest when he thought of her in the hands of the rough miners. He should have tied her to him.

  A young shopkeeper noticed Alex’s searching gaze. “If you’re looking for Meggie, Lieutenant, she’s down there.” He pointed to the waterfront.

  Alex spun around and saw her, up to her knees in the river, the white satin dress floating about. White gloves black with mud, she reached for a small, yellow puppy unable to keep its head above water for more than a few seconds at a time. The current kept pulling him under just as Megan’s fingers brushed his head. Then the pup would bob to the surface a few feet away. Megan moved deeper and deeper into the river after the floundering dog. As Alex watched, she stretched out her hand, inching closer to the animal. The pup turned, paddling frantically toward her. Just as Megan bent to scoop the sopping dog into her arms, she lurched and fell beneath the water.

  Alex sprang into the churning river, staring at the empty space where Megan had been seconds before. His heart beat faster as the time dragged on and there was no sign of her. Just when he was about to dive under the water, her head broke the surface and she floundered, obviously hampered by her skirts. As she went under again, he dove forward and his hand latched onto her arm. He pulled her upright and dragged her toward safety.

  “No,” she cried, coughing and sputtering on the muddy water she had swallowed. “I’ve got to get the puppy.” She fought against him, her loose, wet hair whipping him in the face with the force of her struggles.

  “Are you crazy? You nearly drowned.” Alex wrapped his arms around her struggling form and continued toward solid ground. As soon as his feet touched bottom he stood and released her. Immediately Megan’s gaze scanned the river.

  “There.” She pointed. “He’s still alive.”

  She started into the water again, but Alex dragged her back. Her eyes clashed with his and he sighed. “Just stay here. I’ll get the mutt.”

  He strode back into the river before she could argue. Within seconds he plucked the water-logged pup from the fray by the scruff of his neck. As he waded back toward Megan, the animal fell asleep against his chest, for all the world like a tired baby in its father’s arms.

  “Here.” He thrust the animal into Megan’s waiting hands.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her face alight with gratitude. Suddenly her eyes focused on something past his shoulder and she frowned. “Look.”

  Alex followed her gaze, his eyes widening in amazement as he peered across the water.

  The dogs had reached the far side and ran up and down the riverbank, yelping and howling at the crowd. Dogs tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get away from the continued thunder of the blasting powder. He had never seen so many animals in one place at the same time. Megan’s wolf was probably the only canine left in the whole of Dawson City.

  After a few more moments of laughing revelry, the crowd’s interest waned and Alex was able to direct them back to town. There were still several hours left to drink, gamble, and dance before the fun began in earnest.

  When Alex returned to where he’d left Megan, he let out a hiss of anger. At least a dozen miners, young and old, clustered around, talking to her and petting the sleeping pup. No one seemed to notice that Meggie O’Day’s elaborate hairstyle now lay in wet snarls against her neck or that her stunning white dress was sodden with river water and streaked with mud. As for Megan, instead of being frightened by the men’s rough attention, as any young lady should be, she seemed to glow and sparkle with vivacity. For some reason Alex found himself immensely annoyed with her happiness.

  Pushing through the group of men, Alex took the dog from her and put the animal under his arm. Ignoring the pup’s yelp of protest, he grabbed Megan by her soggy, satin-covered arm. “Let’s go,” he said and yanked her unceremoniously away from the others.

  “Hold on,” Megan shouted, pulling herself from his grasp. “These men were making me a business proposition.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows at her words. “Oh, really?”

  “Not that kind of proposition.” Megan gave him a look of pure exasperation. “Honestly. Would you watch how you’re handling that poor dog?” She scowled at him before continuing. “They want me to have dinner and spend the day with the winner of the footrace at tomorrow’s festivities. I think the public attention would be good for The Celebration.” She turned back to the crowd of men. “Gentlemen, I accept your offer. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

  “Wear somethin’ flashy, Meggie. Give the winner a real treat,” one of the older miners said as he l
eered toothlessly.

  Megan looked uncomfortable for a moment, then she smiled and waved at the ancient lech before retreating quickly toward Alex. She attempted to retrieve the pup, but Alex shook his head and held on to the animal.

  He took her arm again and strode toward The Celebration, his long gait causing Megan to hurry to keep up with him. He realized he was nearly dragging her through the mud, but he didn’t care. When they reached the front of the dance hall, Alex released her. Her dress had fared well despite immersion in the river, though the satin slippers and gloves were surely ruined. Her hair hung in tangles around her face. Somehow, he liked it better that way. Alex glanced into the building and saw the crowd had increased with the news of her transformation.

  “Your appearance seems to have brought in the business you were looking for, as well as other offers. Congratulations.”

  Megan didn’t look inside, keeping her gaze on his face. “I do what I have to do. I thought you were beginning to understand that.”

  “I didn’t think managing a dance hall would involve putting yourself up as a prize for the entire town to covet.”

  “Meggie O’Day represents The Celebration. The more interest there is in me, the more business for my dance hall. Can’t you see this is all just good commerce?”

  “I sure can, Meggie. You’re every customer’s dream.” With his free hand, Alex tipped his hat with a flourish. “But I’m not buying.”

  Turning on his heel, he left Meggie O’Day standing in the muddy bog of Front Street without a backward glance. It wasn’t until he reached his barracks that he realized he still held the sopping pup. A few moments later he knocked on the door of a friend’s house to make a gift of the sleeping dog.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Music. Voices. Laughter. The sounds increased in volume until Alex pulled a pillow over his head in an attempt to continue his disrupted slumber. It wasn’t long before he realized the futility in his actions and threw the pillow against the wall with a frustrated growl. The Americans had been nothing but a nuisance to his English ancestors in 1776, why should they be anything different for him in 1898?

  Alex’s father was the youngest son of a titled English family. He had come to Canada looking for advancement in the service of his country. In the wild, untamed land he found his home as well as a French wife. Several years later, after the birth of four sons and one daughter, he received a letter from his family asking him to return to England. He declined, remaining to become a ranking officer in the Northwest Mounted Police. From the day of his birth, Alex, the eldest, was expected to follow in his father’s wake. So far, he was well on his way to success.

  The force in the Yukon was a team handpicked from the best of the Northwest Mounted Police, itself an exclusive unit. When gold had been discovered on what was then Rabbit Creek, the Canadian government had sent the mounted police to Dawson City to keep order. They did not plan to let one of their properties succumb to the fate of American-held Scagway, Alaska, which had deteriorated into lawlessness with the advent of gold fever. Alex had been first in line to join the officers journeying to the Yukon, the opportunity for career advancement miraculously linked with his desires for truth and vengeance.

  Alex was glad he had been assigned to patrol the festivities. If there was one thing the people in Dawson City knew how to do, it was celebrate, and he didn’t want to waste a moment of the rare chance he had to mix work with pleasure. In a country where darkness reigned for most of the year, the opportunity to make merry in the sunshine would be used to utmost advantage. The scalding air tingled with anticipation, and Alex’s own spirits rose higher than they had been since he arrived in the Yukon. He resolved to put memories of his sister and his thirst for revenge aside for the day and savor the Americans’ frivolity.

  A crowd had gathered in front of The Celebration and Alex frowned, memories of the previous night assaulting his peaceful frame of mind. Glancing over the heads of the men in front of him, Alex saw Megan displayed in the center of the porch. She was lovely, fresh, and bright in a dress the color of springtime leaves. The neckline scooped low, but at least her breasts were covered more adequately than they had been the last time he had seen her. She had pinned her hair into a loose roll at the back of her head with soft tendrils framing her face. A yellow straw hat, complete with white lace and roses, perched upon her head. Cheeks flushed to a pale peach from the heat and green eyes sparkling with excitement made an exquisite picture complete.

  “Gentlemen!” A voice broke into Alex’s reverie. “Line up and pay your entry fee. The winner of this race wins a picnic dinner and the right to spend Independence Day with the beautiful Meggie O’Day, owner of The Celebration.”

  The crowd of miners, shopkeepers, and gamblers murmured, then shifted as several men rushed forward to enter the race. Megan looked out over the crowd, her face reflecting some concern at the motley assortment of entrants, many of whom considered a dunk in the muddy Yukon after a winter of abstinence a sufficient bath. With an effort, she forced her “customer” smile back onto her face and waved to the assembled throng.

  Alex’s lips tightened. She really was playing the game for all it was worth.

  The footrace was about to be run, and Alex recognized two fellow officers among the contestants. They had removed their scarlet coats and wide-brimmed hats in preparation for the competition. When they saw Alex approach, they shouted his name and motioned for him to join them. Knowing he had no choice now that he’d been seen, Alex reluctantly walked toward his comrades.

  “Carson, take off your coat and get ready to run.”

  “I’m on duty.”

  “No reason we can’t enjoy ourselves awhile. Come on, man, you’ve the fleetest feet in the force. We can’t let these Yanks best us.”

  Alex hesitated, looking again at Megan. She had removed her hat and the sunlight reflected off her hair, causing a halo of reddish gold to hover above her head. The innocence of her expression as she smiled at the milling men below her twisted something inside his chest. She glanced over the crowd, and he saw the uncertainty of her fate in her eyes. Without pausing to question his reasons, Alex stepped forward and paid his entry fee.

  His two companions laughed, pounding him on the back. Alex glanced at Megan and saw the commotion had caught her attention. She raised an eyebrow, her face reflecting amusement at his actions.

  Alex turned, pulling off his jacket and hat with angry, jerking movements before taking his place at the starting line. Why he’d entered the race was a mystery to him. But since he had entered, he had every intention of winning. Then he’d tell Miss Megan-Meggie Daily-O’Day a thing or two.

  The runners leapt from their waiting positions at the clang of a cow bell. Megan moved forward to lean her hands on the railing of the porch, seeking a better view of the race. The course ran from The Celebration, down Front Street, then returned up a side street. The starting line would become the finish line in front of the dance hall.

  A thin, gangly miner who looked to be no older than seventeen took the immediate lead. Behind him ran a stocky-but-muscular gambler whom Megan had seen in The Celebration on several occasions. The man was obnoxious in manner and odious in smell, and the thought of a day in his company made her shiver. In third place she recognized Alex Carson.

  Megan was impressed with the expanse of muscled chest and arms revealed through the lightweight white shirt the lieutenant wore. Most of the men Megan had been acquainted with were soft and running to fat from sedentary living in saloons and gambling halls. The obvious care Alex took with his body created an unfamiliar stir in the pit of her stomach.

  A cheer from the crowd drew Megan’s concentration back to the race. Alex moved up until he matched step for step with the gambler. The youthful miner had increased his lead to several lengths, while the rest of the runners fell far behind. Some of the men dropped off to the side, walking away from the race in favor of the cold drinks being served from street-side vendors.

  M
egan craned her neck to see down the street, and at that moment the three leaders turned the corner and disappeared from view. She settled back with the rest of the crowd to wait until they reappeared at the opposite end of Front Street. Cheers from people on the next street told of the progress of the race.

  Lord, I hope that horrid gambler doesn’t win, she thought.

  All she needed was to spend a day in the heat next to that smell. She could do without the young miner, too, for that matter. She had no desire to fend off his youthful exuberance and groping fingers. Megan looked up the street for the runners, surprised to realize she wanted to see Alex in the lead. Only as the lesser of three evils, she told herself firmly.

  Three runners rounded the corner and the crowd roared. The sun shone into Megan’s eyes too brightly to identify which man led the pack. The excitement of the moment caught Megan. Heat hovered and shimmered above the damp earth as the hoots, stamps, and whistles of the crowd echoed through the open air. She could smell the tension in the sweat and excitement of the multitude of observers. Everyone tilted forward, all eyes focused on the three runners pounding toward the finish line.

  Megan leaned over the railing, hands gripping the wood, eyes straining to see Alex. The three men burst into the shadow of The Celebration and her heart lurched.

  Alex was in second, the gambler in the lead. The miner ran fast on the heels of the Mountie. Alex’s arms pumped as his powerful legs strove toward the finish line. His face was set in concentration toward the single goal of overtaking the man in the lead. Megan’s hands clenched as she chanted under her breath, “Faster, faster, faster.”