“Let me go!” she cried. Realizing how terrified she sounded, she added in a calmer voice, “I need to get the bread started for breakfast tomorrow.”
He pulled her tighter to him. “Samantha, I don’t give a damn about bread. I want you.”
“Kevin, I can’t.”
Sensing the sympathy in her words, translating it into pity, he snarled, “You won’t ever love me, will you?” His mouth twisted with rage.
“I can’t force something I don’t feel.” She placed her hands on his arms “Kevin, you don’t want me to lie to you, do you?”
“No, I want you to lie with me, Samantha!” he snapped. When she colored, he laughed grimly. “You’re still the sweet, little girl you were when you arrived in Dawson. Well, honey, I’ve waited just about as long as I can. I struggled to learn to read and write, to please you. I’ve tried to woo you with pretty words, and vowed to give you marriage, if that is what you want, but, Samantha,” he said through clenched teeth, shaking her to emphasize every word, “I won’t wait much longer.”
Her face became ashen as he released her and stamped across the room, slamming the door. She could not move.
When the first wave of horror passed, she knew she must speak to Joel, the only one who understood her dilemma. She found him trying to repair a loosened board on the sluice.
“How can I tell him the truth?” she asked softly as he put his hammer in a pocket and stood. “Would you want me to tell you, if the situation were reversed?”
“Sam, I should have told him long ago. I’ll talk to him tomorrow while we’re working. I’ll make him listen this time.”
Turning away, she shivered as she gazed at the sky ablaze with the northern lights. She wrapped her arms around herself, hands buried in the thick fur of her sleeves. It did not help. As cold as the spring night was, she felt even more icy inside.
She no longer wanted Joel to tell Kevin the truth. Poor Kevin. None of his dreams had come true in the Klondike. The wealth of gold discovered by some along the Bonanza was not here for him, although he and Joel would not admit the claim was a blank. Now he would lose his dream of love, too.
“No,” she whispered.
Strong arms encircled her, and she leaned against the body she longed to feel bare against her. “Will delaying help, sweetheart?”
“I just don’t want him hurt more.”
He pressed his lips to her icy cheek “And us? Sam, do you realize how long it has been since you slept in my arms?”
“Nearly a month,” she said with a sigh.
His arms tightened around her. “My love, you have warmed the winter for me. But to see you, to brush against you in the cabin, to smell your hair and not be able to love you … you know it’s driving me to madness.”
“Me, too.”
With a hungry moan of unsated desire, he whirled her into his arms. His mouth found hers as their silhouettes blurred into one. Their hurried loving in the snow shelter had whetted their appetites for more. She wanted to touch his skin taut with muscles, feel his fingers sending her into a spiral of ecstasy.
Reluctantly releasing her, he sighed, knowing it might be months before he could love her again. He vowed he would end this horrible situation. Kevin had not suffered another relapse since long before the dog sled race. Spring would be here soon. If Kevin could not accept the truth and wanted to dissolve their partnership, they could find other partners.
“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he whispered against her hood. “The ice was soft today. I’m hoping we can break through it in the morning and release the water under it. If we can, I’ll talk to him. It’ll be easier if things are looking up.”
“Do you want me to help?” She knew how difficult this would be for him. Joel’s hard exterior could not hide his tender heart. She knew he did not want Kevin to feel the anguish he had known when his fiancée jilted him.
He nodded. Her presence might defuse the situation. “Come down at mid-morning with the coffee, like you do every day. We’ll tell him then.”
Although she agreed, she dreaded the confrontation. Kevin would be deeply wounded. She wished there was another way. Her heart had decided, she could not change it. All she could do was soften the pain to come.
Wild shouts from the riverbank made Samantha look up in amazement as she poured out cups of coffee. Puzzled, she waited to hear more, dreading the confrontation to come.
The river ran beneath a thin sheet of ice. Joel had broken through it at dawn, to begin again the quest for gold. If they did not find some sparkles soon among the gravel, they would be forced to admit defeat and return to the States. Many others had, during the past summer. She wondered if this might not be better, under the circumstances. Rehearsing again how she would tell Kevin that she loved Joel, she filled the other mugs with the steaming liquid.
The shouts came again, louder and more excited, and she slid from the chilly tree stump seat, where she had placed the three cups.
Kevin came careening up the riverbank toward her. With a fervor he had never shown, he grabbed her and twirled her in his arms. Her questions were ignored as he kissed her soundly. Holding her hand, he dragged her pell-mell toward the sluice.
When she met Joel’s triumphant smile, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Happiness coursed through her with the power of the spring run. He held out his pan, and she put one finger in to touch the sparkles winking at her in the sunlight.
“Gold!” she whispered. She looked up at Joel, her gold tinted finger settling on his arm. The dream had come true for them. Her smile broadening, she tightened her grip on Kevin’s hand, too.
“You haven’t asked how much,” Joel teased.
“How much, then?”
“Enough to buy you a new hat.” Then his arms spread out to include the whole bank on the opposite side of the creek. “It appears we may be as lucky as those on Eldorado. Hundreds!”
“Thousands!” added Kevin.
“Millions!” Joel pulled off his hat and slapped it against his side. “Can you believe it? We wasted a whole year digging on this side, and a fortune waited for us on the other.” He grinned broadly. “Dammit, Kevin! It’s a good thing we didn’t give up, eh?”
The blond waded into the water, breaking a path through the thin sheet of ice. “Shut up, will you? Let’s get back to work and make the three of us very, very wealthy!”
Laughing with giddy abandon, clapping her hands, Samantha watched them return to work. She thought briefly of what they were to discuss with Kevin this morning, then pushed the worry out of her mind. She wanted to be happy and celebrate this streak of good luck.
Rushing back to the cabin, she opened several tin cans without bothering to read what was in them and spooned their contents into the stewpot on the stove. Careful not to cut her hands, she washed out the cans and dried them carefully.
There was a skip in her step as she returned to the water. “Here!” she cried. “Something to hold your findings.”
Kevin sloshed from the far side of the sluice to take the tins. “You’d better open a few more, Samantha.”
“You can’t be serious!”
He laughed. “Serious? Hardly. I feel like kicking up my heels and dancing a jig. It’s the truth. Start figuring how you intend to spend your third of a share of all the gold at the rainbow’s end.”
Samantha did not believe this until the early darkness of spring sent them home early, jesting about the good fortune settling on Fifteen Above. It was true.
Soon dinner plates were pushed aside. Kevin uncovered the very special bottle of whiskey they had been saving for this moment. Three generous glasses were poured. Drinking toasts to everyone and everything they could think of, they celebrated their luck. Samantha took one sip of the liquor, poured hers in Joel’s mug and filled hers with wine. Laughter flowed more and more freely, until Joel was convinced to take out his violin.
Kevin whirled her around the room until she was dizzy from dancing and drink. He did not pause until she
teased him, saying her toes could take no more of his abuse. That set him laughing. He tried to follow her back to the table, but dropped into a heap on the floor. His antics brought only more amusement.
As she walked by the bench, Joel corralled her and pulled her into his lap, splashing wine onto her skirt. “To hell with it!” he crowed. “Soon you will have a dozen dresses to wear each day. Don’t worry about those old things.”
“Old things? Me?” she demanded in mock outrage. “Look at you! All mud and filth.”
Lifting her from his lap, he stood and bowed awkwardly. “Excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t realize this was a formal party.”
“Formal?” A mischievous grin crossed her lips. “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?” he called after her, wondering what had sent her scurrying up the ladder.
“You’ll see.” She gave him the kind of broad wink he had used to disconcert her on many occasions when she was newly arrived at Fifteen Above. “Have another drink. I’ll be right back.”
Smiling indulgently, Samantha heard Joel launch into a new, cruder version of a song he had been humming all day. His lusty mellow baritone made her want to fling her arms around him and feel his lips caressing her.
Reaching beneath the bed, she pulled out the carpetbag she had never unpacked. The latches flipped aside easily as she opened the top. She held her breath and reverently lifted a crinkled, paper wrapped bundle. She placed it on the bed and pushed the tissue aside to reveal her pink silk wedding dress—a frock for a wondrous celebration. She would wear it tonight.
Hastily unbuttoning her clothes stained with riverbank mud, she washed in the ice-coated water from the pail by the bed. The temperature had continued to drop, with the deepening night. Shivering, she hoped the Bonanza would not freeze solid again and halt their sluicing and panning. Their dreams were within their grasp. It would be doubly hard to relinquish them now.
Arms raised, she let the silk cloud billow over her. Straightening the squared neckline, she smiled at the glitter of sequins amid the Hamburg lace. The skirt fell fully to the floor. Its pink point d’espri netting shadowed the stiffened silk beneath it and hid wrinkles. When she moved to stand before the small mirror, she could feel the flow of the tiers at the back of the skirt. She puffed out the wide sleeves dropping to her elbow and a fall of lace. Molding her hair into a more formal style, she smiled.
This is how she had wanted to look the day she married the man who possessed her heart. Instead she wore the luxurious gown to commemorate the discovery of gold. She smiled, realizing that did not bother her. Unbeknownst to her, sometime during her months at Fifteen Above, she had become as bemused as the men with the idea of making the big strike. She wanted Joel’s dreams to come true.
Hearing Samantha’s footsteps overhead moving toward the ladder, Joel called, “Hurry! We’re waiting to make a toast to our—”
As his partner’s voice faded, Kevin followed Joel’s gaze. His eyes widened bleary from whiskey. A vision straight from his dreams smiled, through a pale blur of pink. He started to rise from the floor, but the liquor had slowed him too much. Joel hurried past him to greet Samantha.
Kevin smiled, reaching for the whiskey bottle. Soon she would be dressed like this all the time. They would have plenty of gold to waste, on all kinds of baubles. He would decorate Samantha with everything her heart desired. She would make his fantasies come true, with gleaming gold surrounding them.
Gold! He raised his cup in a silent toast to the yellow prize and what it would buy for him. Draining his whiskey, he sloshed another serving into his mug.
Across the room, the other two did not notice his actions. In a gentle voice, thick with the emotions he could not keep from his eyes, Joel murmured, “Sam, you look so beautiful tonight. Why haven’t you worn this gown before? It’s perfect for you.”
“I had saved it for a special occasion—” she said as she ran her fingers along his arm, “and tonight is a very special one.”
“Your wedding gown?” When she nodded reluctantly, he lost his buoyant good humor. It took little effort for him to imagine pretty Sam in this puff of pink standing by his side in front of a preacher. It took even less to fantasize the night to follow, when he would rediscover the sweet softness which waited beneath the dress.
“Don’t look so glum,” she teased. “It’s a little late for regret now.”
He put his hand against her cheek and tilted her face up to his, emotion thickened in his voice. “Sam, how could I be sorry for anything which brought you into my life?”
A crash interrupted her answer. Kevin had struggled to his feet, noisy and wobbly. Now he was sprawled across the side of the bed. Smiling indulgently, Samantha said, “Shall we?”
“I do think he needs some help.” Joel moved to one side of Kevin while Samantha took his other arm. “C’mon, Kev. How about an early night for you? We have a busy day tomorrow, stealing more of that gold from the pay dirt.”
The blond grinned idiotically at Samantha as she removed his glasses and put them on the table. “Thanks, honey. You want to—”
“Not tonight, Kevin,” she said softly before he could betray his thoughts. “You sleep. Tomorrow you can find more gold.”
“Gold,” he breathed as he closed his eyes. They left him to his dreams.
Joel was unstable, too, as he groped for the bench. He sat and turned to look at Kevin, who now snored inelegantly, one leg dangling, a hole in one stocking revealing his big toe. He mumbled something, then rolled onto his side.
Samantha joined Joel on the bench. “I have never seen Kevin drink so much,” he said, “not even when we went into Grand Forks.” His own voice was blurred from whiskey.
“Don’t deny him his happiness.”
“Or us, ours.” He turned her to face him. Candid desire softened his features. “Tonight, Sam. It’s been an eternity since the last time you slept in my arms.”
She shook her head slowly. “No. We must tell Kevin the truth, first. Now that we’ve found the riches you both dreamed of, it might make the whole situation easier. He can choose any woman he wants—maybe even his Leslie Morgain, if he still loves her. Few would refuse to marry a man as wealthy as he’ll be.”
His finger caressed the line of her cheek. “You’ll be rich, too, sweetheart, in your own right. Remember, you get a third of all coming from the river. You won’t need to marry a wealthy man.”
“No,” she answered slowly as his face lowered toward hers. “I told you that didn’t matter to me. I never planned to.”
“Then would you reconsider?” His warm breath washed over her, thick with the aroma of whiskey. “Would you marry me, Sam?”
“I wrote once, ages ago, that I would marry you,” she said. Her laugh disappeared into the moist caverns of his mouth as he drew her lips beneath his.
When he released her and slid off the bench to kneel on one knee, she giggled. Wine had loosened her inhibitions and made everything more merry. She stroked his cheek.
Smiling, his eyes serious, he said, “Miss Samantha Perry, I would deem it the greatest honor if you would consent to being my beloved wife. I vow I’ll cherish you more with each passing day, and try to make your life as happy as you already have made mine. Just say ‘yes.’ Tell me you’ll be mine.”
Fighting not to chuckle, she responded in the same officious tone, “Mr. Joel Gilchrist, you lied to me and made me insane with fury, so I vowed to make you sorry for what you did to me.”
“You did that!”
She smiled at his sharp answer, then said, “Now, I find I want to make you happy. If my marrying you will do that, then I say yes.” Eyes twinkling, she added, “I love you, Joel. I love you more than anyone or anything in my life.”
“And I you.”
Grinning wickedly, he stood suddenly and lifted her into his arms. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he carried her past his sleeping partner and walked to the ladder and placed her on the first rung. “Up, wench! Delay, and you’ll find
yourself walking the plank and pleasuring the fish.”
Climbing, she said, “You are drunk.”
When he stood next to her on the upper floor he whispered, “Drunk, yes. With desire, my love.”
Gazing up into his face, she noticed how close his head was to the rafters. She stroked the length of his strong arms. Watching his eyes rove along her in eager yearning, she teased, “Should I believe a declaration of love and an offer of marriage from a drunkard?”
“Silence, wench,” he ordered with a lusty laugh. She laughed, enjoying his pirate snarl and arrogant stance. He bent, putting his arms around her waist, and easily hoisted her up over his shoulder.
Ordering her again to be silent before she woke Kevin, he dropped her onto the bed, flashing an imaginary broadsword. “By the orders of your master, wench, prepare yourself for the night of your life!”
Laughing in the spirit of the game, she crossed her arms over her chest in a protective pose. “Never, Captain! You have sunk my ship and killed my crew. Before I allow you to touch me, I will fling myself over the side.”
“You’ve read too many novels,” he said as he sat beside her.
“Aye, Captain,” she answered saucily. “Enough to know what happens to captive wenches on pirate ships.”
“And?”
Her hands rose to the front of his shirt. Slowly, she undid each button. Her eyes unabashedly speaking of her love for him, she spread her palms across his bared chest. When she heard his gasp of pleasure, she slipped her arms beneath the loosened shirt to stroke his back. Her face pressed to the warmth of his hard body, she kissed the curling hair across his chest.
Gently he lifted her chin so he could see her loving face in the dim light. “Tonight, Sam, I’ll love you as I have wanted to for so long. No hurried coupling in the snow. Tonight we’ll share love.”
He placed his lips against her left cheek, then her right. She closed her eyes in eager anticipation as he kissed her forehead and her chin, which she had raised so often in defiance. Her gasp of delight billowed into his mouth when he tasted the pleasure waiting for him on her lips.
At the Rainbow's End Page 25
