At the Rainbow's End

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  “If he rides Skookum, here, he will be able to conserve his energy. He knows enough folks along the river, so he can find a friend to stay overnight with on the way.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Then why did we sleep in the woods on our way here from Dawson?”

  Joel motioned her aside and dug the pitchfork deep into the haystack. “To keep you to himself, honey.”

  “But he was a gentleman.”

  “Kevin would be. It’s a good thing he won the flip of the coin and came into Dawson to meet you. I might have let you believe the lies, and married you as Joel Houseman.”

  Laughing again, she watched the ease of his body as he flung hay into the stall. Everything he did seemed beautifully choreographed, like a ballet. Even when he sharpened his razor in the morning to shave, she enjoyed watching the innately graceful movements of his muscles beneath his skin. He brought the lightness of his fingers flitting across the neck of his violin to many of his motions.

  Although she had savored these moments of privacy with him, she was glad when he said it was time to return to the cabin. They seldom left it now, except for necessary tasks. With the river becoming frozen solid, no work could be done there. That pleased Samantha. She was not eager to repeat the back-bending labor in the icy water.

  Kevin looked up from his seat by the fire. Smiling, he lifted the blanket from his shoulders and motioned for Samantha to take his place on a bench at the table. “Where did you go to?”

  “Joel was showing me your unique way of telling the temperature.”

  “Unique is correct,” he said, responding to her smile with his own. “It matches the weather. I was hoping we had spent our last winter in the Klondike.” His face saddened before a spasm of coughs dropped him to the bench again.

  She used the metal ladle to break the ice on the top of the water bucket and offered him a serving of the cold water. He drank gratefully, as soon as his ravaged throat allowed. Then, she said softly, “We think you should see a doctor, Kevin.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Why not?” Joel demanded.

  His partner pointed to a wooden box on a small shelf next to the door. “You know how much gold dust there is in there. Nothing. Doctors like to be paid, you know.”

  Samantha went to the small box, not much larger than one containing matches, and carried it back to the table. “Open it.”

  “I—” His words disappeared into a coughing fit again. Then he lifted trembling fingers to the top. Holding his hand over his mouth, so no violent volley of coughs would blow away the precious dust, he stared at the now half-filled box. “Where did this come from?”

  “First payment I owe you two. I figure it’s about half of what it cost for my trip north.” She did not reveal that the equal amount remained hidden under her bed upstairs. A cautious part of her wanted to hide the total amount she had made by cleaning the prospector’s filthy clothes. “Take what you need for the doctor and go to the hospital in Dawson.”

  Kevin looked from her pleading face to his equally serious partner. Although he did not want to admit it, he knew they were correct. He needed to see a doctor to regain his health. After all the work he had given to this claim, he did not want to give up because he could not survive a Klondike winter.

  “All right,” he said simply. “I’ll go. I can stay with Byrd on Thirty Below. That’s close in. Then I’ll be able to make it home after seeing the doctor.”

  “I’m glad!” Samantha hugged him quickly. “I don’t want to think of either of my partners suffering all winter. Let me start a warm meal for us. I want you to be plenty strong when you leave in the morning.”

  He moved away slowly. He tried to catch her eye, but she was busy chattering about what she would pack for him. If he could hold Samantha and show her his love, perhaps he would not feel the cold all the way to Dawson. As it was …

  Leslie would be in Dawson. Since he first saw Samantha, he had not thought about the woman who had jilted him. Once his mind had been busy with ways to make Leslie change her mind, but even that vanished when Samantha arrived. Now he thought about the lush pressure of Leslie’s full breasts against him when he paid her a dollar for a dance—or more, for other entertainment …

  As Samantha laughed with his partner, Kevin’s hand closed over the small box. The dust would allow him to enjoy earthy Leslie for more than one night. He would bring Samantha a present home from the city, too, to show her that he had missed her. Truthfully, she would be in his thoughts. Even when he satisfied his needs with Leslie, he would be loving this dark-haired beauty in his mind.

  He had one consolation for failing to woo Samantha into his arms. He was sure Joel had been as unsuccessful at having pretty Samantha to himself.

  To himself … that thought lingered. Joel was taking out his violin, Samantha kneaded the bread she would cook tonight for their breakfast. If he went into Dawson, Samantha and his partner would have the privacy he craved. Kevin smiled as he pocketed the box of gold. She had made it very clear she did not intend to become involved with either of them. Imagining his homecoming from Dawson, sated with Leslie’s skillful lovemaking, he smiled with pity for Joel, who panted futilely after a woman who refused to surrender.

  He laughed and went to throw a few other things in his knapsack. It should be a good trip.

  Samantha tried to sleep, but the cold ate into her bones, crunching, keeping her awake. She hoped Kevin had reached his friends, and was warm. When Joel came in for supper tonight, he told her the mercury and the whiskey were both frozen.

  In her attic, far from the stovepipe peeking through the first floor roof in the original cabin, she shivered. If they had finished the fireplace chimney in the addition, she could be cozy, from the heat stored in the stones. Each time she forced her eyes to close they popped open, and she imagined freezing to death in this isolated cabin. She was conscious of every inch of her trembling skin.

  She could not spend the night up here. Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders, Samantha ran quickly across the freezing floor. Her toes in their heavy, wool socks gripped the rungs of the ladder. Through the darkness, she moved with ease, from memory.

  The stove glowed feebly in the cold. She held out her hands to its warmth, which barely challenged the chill. Closing her eyes, she savored the faint hint of heat. During the horrid summer weather, she thought she never wanted to be drenched with perspiration again. The first bite of winter had taught her differently.

  “Oh, Joel, did I wake you?” she asked, hearing movement just behind her.

  His mumbled answer was distorted by a yawn. She laughed lightly and drew the pot from its shelf on the top of the stove. With one hand clutching the covers around her, she reached for two cups and the tin of tea. She put them on the table, but he picked them up and shook his head.

  His voice thick with sleep, he murmured, “Too cold over there. We should sit here on the floor by the stove. I think it’s the only warm place in this blasted cabin. I was hoping last winter was a fluke. I guess this is what we must expect every year.”

  “I hope Kevin is somewhere secure.”

  The days when his partner’s name had created rage were past. He nodded and held up the cups. She poured the water in them. “He’s probably holed up with friends, dreaming about being in some saloon in Dawson with his arms around his dollar a dance girl.”

  “Leslie?”

  “Probably, if he can convince her to take him back. I hope he’s enjoying himself.” He took a sip of the tea. “He does so seldom. I have never met a man more determined to look on the sour side of life.”

  “Joel!”

  Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he urged her to sit on the floor next to him. She leaned her head on him. Curling her toes helped her to pretend she felt warm. She did, where his finger stroked her arm.

  “How did you and Kevin come to be partners? You are as opposite as two men can be. I don’t know how you convinced me you were one person.”

  “Th
at’s easily explained. When I wrote to you—”

  “No,” she interrupted, “You wrote to me in the winter. I don’t want to talk about those months. Tell me about something that happened when it was summer, about how you became partners.”

  He laughed and squeezed her. “Winter has not yet started, sweetheart. But all right, you want to know how Kevin and I joined forces. It was simple. He arrived at Skagway the same day I did. We started north at the same time. It quickly became obvious to us that we couldn’t walk treacherous, sloping Dead Horse Trail with all the supplies each of us carried. Others were partnering, so we did the same. It was fortunate, for his horse dropped dead on the trail. Once we reached Dawson, footsore and nearly broken in spirit, it seemed obvious that two men could find gold twice as fast as one. Then we were lucky enough to get Fifteen Above.” He snorted. “Lucky. Maybe not.”

  When his voice lost its lightness on the last words, she turned to face him. “You’ll find the big strike, Joel. I know you will.”

  “I wish I had your faith.” He sighed, grateful for the sympathy in her sad smile. “Sometimes it seems I’ve been working all my life in that damn creek. I see others come in and walk away wealthy men. Some seem to just sink their shovels into the earth and come up with glitter.”

  “You know it isn’t that easy!”

  “You truly believe we’ll hit pay dirt, don’t you?”

  Her forehead creased with surprise, and she encouraged him with, “Of course! You don’t think I’d team up with a pair of losers, do you? I’ve been working hard, and I’m anxious to see my third of the profits.”

  “You talk as if you had a choice. You were forced to stay here. You had no place else to go.”

  “No, Joel, that’s not true,” she said slowly. Now that she had told him how she loved him, she wanted to be equally honest about other things. “I had somewhere else to go.”

  It was his turn to be confused. “Somewhere else? What are you talking about?”

  Quickly she explained the offer she had before she left the steamship Merwyn. It did not take her long to add that Mrs. Kellogg had made her another one. “You see, I didn’t have to stay here. I wanted to.”

  “From the beginning?”

  “From the beginning!” She dimpled as she reached up to stroke the sharp angles of his face. “Of course, at first I wanted simply to make your life miserable.”

  He laughed as he put his fingers over hers. “You did. But you stayed longer than that. Because you decided to fall in love with me?”

  Samantha looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. Life had been so sweet all day. She did not want to change it with the desire which had kept her awake even more than the cold. She wanted Joel to take her in his arms, and to his bed. Although she had wondered how she would keep him away once Kevin left, she need not have worried. All day, he had been the epitome of a gentleman, laughing with her, talking, playing music after supper.

  Joel asked her what was wrong, and she said nothing. Nothing should be wrong, when he had done exactly as she had wanted.

  With regret, she rose to place her cup on the table. She would wash the dishes tomorrow, when the temperature in the cabin reached above freezing. Standing by the bench, she tried to force her feet to move away from the precious warmth of the fire, to her frigid bed.

  Hearing a strange, scraping sound, she turned. Astonished, she saw Joel pushing the heavy bedframe, maneuvering it to within a foot of the stove. Standing, he wiped his brow.

  With a sigh, she turned toward the ladder. She envied him his warm bed, and she said, “Good night,” while stepping past him.

  He grabbed one of her hands from the front of her blanket, and she hastily clenched the drooping cover. Although her thick, flannel nightgown offered some modesty, she flushed at the thought of him seeing her so underdressed.

  “Get in,” he urged, pointing to the bed.

  “Joel, I don’t think—”

  His laughter drowned out the rest of her words. “It’s your choice. You can go back to the loft, where you may freeze before morning. Or you can sleep here.”

  “With you?” Her eyes widened.

  “With me. I don’t have any great desire to freeze to death, either.” He sat on the bed and drew the stiff covers over him. When he saw how disturbed she was, he stopped teasing her. Taking her fingers between his, he rubbed the cold from them. “Sam, don’t be foolish. If I’d wanted to rape you, don’t you think I could have done it before now? If you love me, you have to trust me, too.”

  She tightened her grip on her blanket. If she laid down beside him, she doubted if they could curb the desires which raced through them each time their eyes touched. Her tongue moistened the suddenly arid surface of her lips. This might be the end of yet another dream. So often she had imagined how heavenly it would be for him to hold her when she wore the chiffon peignoir still packed in the case beneath her bed. Her fingers could feel the heavy flannel of her ugly nightgown.

  “Well?” he demanded with a smile. Holding out his hand for hers, he added, “If you want to stay there all night, you will have to excuse me. I have a full day of digging pay dirt tomorrow. I need to get some sleep tonight.”

  Walking to the far side of the bed, she leaned on the headboard. His shockingly blue eyes met her gaze evenly. They dropped to follow the blanket as she let it slide from her shoulders. When they rose to hers again, she could see amusement in them. She knew how hideous her high-necked gown was, but it had the distinction of being warm.

  “Push over,” she ordered quietly.

  “Over? Why?”

  “Oh, Joel, be a gentleman just once,” she admonished as she loosened her hair. She wanted its thickness around her to shut out the cold. “Let me have the side closer to the stove tonight.”

  He took her hand and lifted the covers to welcome her into his arms, adding her blanket over them. As she felt the warmth where his body had been resting, she sighed with soft delight. He settled her into the pillows and rested on one elbow to look down into her face. His fingers itched to touch the dark velvet of her hair cascading along the muslin pillowcase, but he did not put out his hand to stroke it.

  Samantha tried to think of something to say, but all coherent thought had vanished. The open neckline of his long underwear revealed the dark matting across his chest. She wondered if it felt as silken as the strands on his head, or as spiky as his mustache.

  “Good night,” she whispered. “And thank you, Joel.” She turned away from him. Placing her hand under her cheek, she closed her eyes and willed herself to forget he was so close to her. That was impossible.

  She felt the bed shift slightly. “A kiss good night?” came a soft question against her ear.

  Silent, taut with desire and excitement, she dared not move. His lips burning into hers snatched her breath away, sweeping aside everything else. As her arms rose to encircle his shoulders beneath the covers, she knew she had been waiting all day, all her life, for this moment.

  He lifted his mouth from hers to whisper, “Sam?”

  “Love me, Joel.”

  “I do.” Placing his lips against her ear, he smiled as she reacted with a quiver all along her body. “And I will.”

  She closed her eyes as his tongue teased the lobe of her ear before tracing its uneven ridges. All hesitation disappeared as he brushed her hair aside so he could place a fiery line of kisses along her neck. Her hand moved up to feel the warmth of his back.

  When his mouth found hers, he delved deep for hidden pleasures, luxuriating in the slippery texture he found within. More eager for treasure now than when he searched for gold flakes in the river, he undid the buttons on the front of her nightgown. He was astonished to touch silken skin beneath it.

  “Where is your long underwear?” he asked, watching her eyes open with dazed pleasure.

  A throaty chuckle drifted from her lips. “I couldn’t put it back on after I washed the clothes.”

  “It didn’t dry?”

  S
he smiled shyly as she began to unbutton the front of his shirt in the dim light. He hungrily pressed his lips to the skin revealed by her loosened clothes. “No,” she said, “and I’m glad.”

  Her eyes revealed how much she wanted him to be her lover. All his yearning for her love dissolved into the single, mind-sapping need to feel her without the thickness of their clothes between them.

  When his mouth moved to the gentle slope of her breast, she moaned in rapture. She had never imagined anything could feel as luscious as the warm wetness of his tongue creating spirals across her skin. Her own lips, at the perfect angle to taste the rough unevenness of his ear, formed a smile when she heard his half-drawn breath of delight.

  She chuckled softly when he realized her nightgown would not slide down her shoulders. Rising to her knees, she pulled it up.

  She leaned over him, teasing, “If I take this off, I will be chilly. Will you keep me warm?”

  His whisper seared her soul. “Always, Sam.” He stared, entranced, as she lifted the nightgown over her head. Even in the sparse glow of the stove, he could see the outline of her body through the thin material of her chemise.

  Sitting, he put his hands on the narrow straps at her shoulders and lowered them along her arms, following the drooping neckline with his lips. He gently licked the downy valley between her breasts, before moving down to the flat plane of her abdomen. Swaying against him, she gasped as he returned to fascinate her lips with his own.

  Against her bare skin, the roughness of his winter wear accented her awareness of every inch of him. She did not need his urging to continue opening the front of his shirt.

  A single sigh escaped her lips when she felt the furred breadth of his chest over her. She pulled him to her, wanting to be so close she could feel the beat of his heart with her own.

  “Just a moment,” he whispered.

  Enthralled, she watched as he rose, and pushed his one piece Union suit downward, along the lean line of his hips and legs. Her eyes widened as she dared to explore him eagerly. His naked form deepened her yearning to find a way to fill the demanding void within her. She traced the darkness warm against his chest to where it narrowed near his hips.