Rivers of Gold

by Tracie Peterson

  “I think you should eat a hearty meal and rest for the evening. Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin your search. If they’re here, they aren’t going anywhere tonight.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Miranda climbed the carpeted stairs, gently touching the polished wood banister. The hotel was more beautiful than she could have imagined. How in the world had such elegance come so far north? She marveled at the plush opulence. It was as if someone had taken the finest hotel in San Francisco and transplanted it to Dawson.

  Mr. Davenport and his men seemed to take it all in stride. Apparently they’d seen the hotel many times before and the effect had worn off. Of course, she reasoned, Mr. Davenport had come from a well-to-do English family. He’d told her briefly of stately gardens where he’d learned a love of vegetation. It was really all she knew of Teddy Davenport. Funny how a person could share such close quarters with someone for months and still not know anything about them.

  Reluctantly, Miranda pulled her skirt up a bit and continued her climb. Her legs felt leaden. She had lost so much of her strength by having nothing to do but sit around the cabin with Mr. Davenport. Teddy, on the other hand, hoisted the crate as though he worked days at the freight dock. His strength came as a surprise to Miranda, who had thought him a dandy at worst and a gentleman of leisure at best.

  Yawning, she kept a silent vigil behind the men. In the morning she would have to get a telegram off to her parents. She worried that they had been notified of the accident. She’d been practically frantic over the thought of their suffering such news. She’d labored with images of her mother for weeks. When she closed her eyes at night, she could almost see her mother wandering around the house, crying in her grief. Miranda had to let them know she was alive and well.

  “Well, here we are,” Teddy grunted under the weight of his crate. He gently lowered the box as if it contained his most valuable possession. And in truth, Miranda knew that, to Teddy, those bits of dried vegetation and notes were his most valued articles.

  Teddy procured a key from his coat pocket while Little Charley eyed Miranda. She felt her cheeks grow hot under his scrutiny and lowered her gaze to the floor.

  “Just put those inside,” Teddy instructed. He glanced to Miranda and reached out to offer her something. “This is the key to the room next door.” He motioned to the right and Miranda realized he intended her to admit herself.

  Without waiting for any other comment, Miranda took the key and opened the door. The room was grander than any she’d ever known. The brass bed had been done up in a heavy coverlet of brocaded burgundy and navy. Brass sconces on either side of the bed held thick white candles.

  Without warning the side door opened and Mr. Davenport popped into the room. “I say, looks just as I left it.”

  “It’s a lovely room. Much nicer than anything I expected to see in Dawson,” Miranda admitted.

  “Well, to be honest, it is one of the finer accommodations in the hotel. I stay here regularly, and these are my private rooms.”

  “I see. Are you sure you can spare the room?” she questioned. “I mean, I plan only to be here as long as it takes to find my friends or to make other arrangements.”

  “Nonsense,” Teddy assured. “The room is no problem. I’ve set my things up in the sitting room and Mr. Ambrose, the manager here, will have the staff put in another bed.”

  “I’ve taken your bed? That hardly seems right. Perhaps they could move me to another room.”

  Teddy shook his head. “There are no other rooms available at present. Please do not concern yourself. I wouldn’t have extended the offer if it were a bother. Now, do get your things settled and we’ll have supper.”

  “I’m afraid, I have very little to settle, as you probably remember.” Miranda dropped her own bundle of meager belongings on the bed.

  “I’d nearly forgotten,” Teddy said, frowning. “We should look into purchasing you a wardrobe.”

  “No!” Miranda exclaimed. “You’ve done enough. And don’t forget, I have plenty of things, clothing especially, with my friends.”

  “That hardly helps you in this setting. We’ll figure out what to do after supper.”

  “I would like to wash up,” Miranda said, looking around the room.

  “Of course. I’ll send someone with towels and hot water. There’s a bath down the hall, but in the winter it is sometimes less than congenial.”

  “Thank you. The water and towels will be more than enough.”

  “I suppose after tonight,” Miranda began, “we’ll see little of each other.”

  Teddy looked up rather surprised. He’d seemed distracted throughout the meal, but he now gave her his full attention.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I’ll be searching for my friends, and you have your work to see to.”

  “Yes, well, it may take some time for you to locate your friends. This area is more far-reaching than it seems. The claims of gold have been staked along nearly every river and creek in the area. There are hundreds of miles to cover in order to check each and every one. If your friends have failed to file a claim, or if perhaps they are working for someone else, there will be no record of them in the claims office. Short of finding someone who knows them or remembers them … well, it might be quite a task. I didn’t want to say anything for fear of discouraging you.”

  Miranda hadn’t considered that it would be that hard. She hadn’t figured the town to be much bigger than the other stops along the way, and she certainly hadn’t thought the claims to be so far-reaching.

  “I suppose I didn’t consider the situation in an accurate light. But then again, I had no idea I would encounter such a place.”

  “Of course, who’s to say that God hasn’t already straightened this crooked path out for you?”

  Miranda nodded. Her hope was fixed on God. For the past months she had prayed and prayed for His deliverance and guidance. “I’m counting on God for just that, Mr. Davenport.” And she knew in her heart it was true. For after all, what possible alternative did she have?

  “The town isn’t safe for you to journey too far alone,” he continued. “It might be wise to check in with the officials.”

  “I plan to.” Miranda toyed with her silverware for a moment, then cut into the thick steak on her plate. “This is quite delicious. I don’t remember the last time I had a steak.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I wasn’t sure you’d care for the flavor of moose.”

  “Moose?” She eyed her plate. “This is moose?”

  “Indeed. It’s rather an acquired taste unless it’s prepared exactly right. We have a marvelous chef here at the hotel, and when he is able to get the right ingredients, he does a wonderful job.”

  “The entire dinner has been perfect,” Miranda said, taking another bite of the meat. This time she focused on the flavor. She decided it was still quite delicious, in spite of knowing its origins.

  Later that night, as she slipped beneath the thick wool blankets and heavy brocade cover, Miranda realized she’d not given any further thought to Teddy’s sleeping arrangements. She thought to double check and make sure he had a bed in which to sleep, but even as she considered approaching their adjoining door, she held back.

  It was hardly appropriate for her to go to him. He was a grown man and fully capable of seeing to his own needs. She thought of him, determined and focused on his work. He was probably bent over some piece of dried greenery even now.

  Miranda smiled to herself and snuggled down deeper in the covers. A spirit of hope washed over her, energizing her and making sleep seem impossible. For all her exhaustion earlier, now she felt as if she could run a race.

  She longed to find Grace and Karen. She longed to let them know she was alive and well. But then the reoccurring horror of knowing that they might well have died in the storm crept into her conscious mind.

  What if they had all perished in the storm?

  She shuddered. “Oh, G
od, please let them all be well and safe. Let me find them and rejoin them. Let me return to my parents and ease their worry.”

  But even as the words were out of her mouth, Miranda felt a strange aching in her heart. To return to her friends and family meant she would have to part company with Mr. Davenport.

  “I’m being silly,” she quietly whispered into the darkness. “Of course we’ll part company. We are nothing to one another. We were thrown together for the sole purpose of… .” Her mind was incapable of completing the sentence. Why had they been thrown together? Was there some other plan for them?

  Miranda thought of Teddy as a brotherly sort. He wasn’t exactly like her own brother, Peter, but he was caring and kind. He didn’t look at her like Crispin Thibault had. Crispin’s lingering gazes had always warmed her and left her a little jittery inside. Teddy’s glances did nothing but …

  But what?

  Miranda hugged her pillow. This is so nonsensical, she thought. What’s wrong with me anyway? Mr. Davenport is nothing more than a kindly benefactor. As soon as I find Grace, I’ll be gone. I’ll probably never see him again.

  The thought made the dull ache more intense. Could it be she’d come to care for Mr. Davenport? Care for him in such a manner that leaving his company could actually cause her grief ?

  The winds picked up outside and made a mournful whine. Miranda had heard it said that the dark northern winters could cause a madness to settle upon a person. It caused all manner of trouble. Some people went screaming into the night and were never seen again. Some retreated to the silent darkness of their cabins and weren’t found again until spring.

  Maybe her strange feelings in regard to Mr. Davenport were nothing more than a part of this winter madness—a sort of northern plague that would pass with the coming of the summer light. Maybe.

  —[CHAPTER SEVEN]—

  LEAH AND CRISPIN looked down on the wrinkled baby boy with expressions of awe. Grace smiled at her two champions. Had it not been for their devotion and determination, she and the baby might well be dead.

  “He’s so tiny, Grace,” Leah said, shaking her head. “I didn’t know he’d be so little.”

  “He’s perfectly normal in size,” Crispin stated. The haggard look on his face and dark circles around his eyes caused Grace to worry over his health. She wondered if it was the first time he’d been sober in quite some time.

  “Mr. Thibault, we have quite despaired of ever knowing your fate. Have you come back to us now?”

  Crispin seemed to suddenly realize not only the hour and setting, but also his state of sobriety. He reached for his coat and pulled it on without ceremony. “I have not come back. I was merely taken in hand by this lovely lady.” He smiled sadly at Leah. “I’m glad I could be of help, but I must go. I have places to be and the hour is late.”

  “Crispin, don’t leave. Karen hasn’t come home, and what if I need someone?” Leah questioned.

  Grace heard the concern in the child’s voice, while noting at the same time the determination in Crispin’s expression. “Perhaps Mr. Thibault has other obligations,” Grace said softly. She pulled her son closer to keep him from chilling. The baby slept as though completely disinterested in his surroundings.

  “I do indeed,” Crispin said, giving the ladies a slight bow. “I bid you farewell for a time.”

  Leah walked to where Crispin’s fur hat had been carelessly left to dry. “Here. Don’t forget your hat. You might need it.”

  He smiled at her as he took the hat. Grace couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired between Leah and Crispin prior to their arrival at her bedside. Crispin reached out and took hold of Leah’s hand. Bending, he kissed her fingers.

  “Parting is indeed a bittersweet sorrow.”

  “You don’t have to go,” Leah said matter-of-factly.

  “Ah, but I do. You’ll understand better as time goes by. Now stay here and care for our little mother and her babe. I’m sure Karen will return after the storm abates.”

  “But you shouldn’t go out in it either,” Leah protested.

  “I’ll be perfectly fine,” he assured them and then, without further ado, was gone.

  Leah’s eyes filled with tears and Grace reached out her hand. “Come here,” she said softly. “Come sit with me and Andy.”

  Leah sniffled. “Andy? You’ve named him already?”

  “I’ve thought for a long time of what I would call him, if I had a son. I love the name Andrew, and if you remember your Bible stories, you’ll know that Peter and Andrew were brothers who were called by Christ to become disciples. I figured with his father’s name being Peter, Andrew was a most appropriate name. They just go together, don’t you think?”

  Leah wiped at her eyes and nodded. “He is a beautiful baby, Grace. I was so scared he wouldn’t be born.”

  Grace squeezed her hand. “I know your mother died in childbirth. I’m sorry you had to bear this.”

  “I just kept thinking about Mama.” The tears fell in earnest now. Suddenly it seemed that the intensity of the day had finally caught up with Leah. She sobbed into her hands and buried her face against the side of Grace’s cover.

  Stroking the child’s head, Grace tried to think of some words of comfort. It seemed only a short time ago that she herself had been young like this—young and innocent and so very carefree. Grace thought of her home in Chicago. Of the finery and blessings they’d enjoyed. She had never known what it was to really need or want something. How very different things were now.

  She let Leah cry, thinking it was probably a cleansing help to the girl. So often people buried their feelings inside and never allowed them to come out, never let their souls be cleaned and refreshed by the rain of their tears.

  How very often I’ve tried to refrain from tears, she thought. I’ve tried to feel nothing but the determined hope that God would somehow make everything right, when down deep inside I hurt so very bad. Grace thought of Peter and looked to the baby who now slept wrapped safely in her arms. Would Peter care that he had a son? Would he forgive her the anger of the past and come to realize the importance of putting his trust in God?

  Surely it was better that she remain here, separated from her husband, to raise her son in the presence of God-fearing people who cared about them both, rather than return to a loveless marriage—a union that promised all parties nothing but pain and sorrow.

  Grace continued to stroke Leah’s hair, even as her own tears fell. Father, I know you have a plan in all of this. I know your love is there for me—for Andrew. But, God, it hurts so much to know that Peter is far away from us, to know that he doesn’t care for your Word, or for you. Grace cried softly while Leah’s sobs still filled the room.

  Andrew stirred and began to fuss. As he cried louder, Grace and Leah both looked at each other and then to the baby. Grace began to smile. A fine trio they were with their tears.

  “He’s probably hungry,” Grace surmised. “The midwife told me he would probably want to nurse first thing.”

  “Is there anything I can do? Is there anything you need?” Leah asked, drying her eyes.

  Grace untied the neck of her nightgown with her free hand. “No, nothing. God has seen to making this quite a selfsufficient matter.” She positioned the crying baby to her breast and watched as he began rooting. She startled when he latched on and began to suck.

  Leah laughed. “He must be pretty hungry. You must be hungry too. I’ll fix you some food.”

  Grace nodded. She was feeling both hungry and weary. When Leah had gone to the stove, Grace returned her gaze to the dark-haired baby. How wondrous and awesome to hold something so tiny, so alive, and know that it came about because of the love she shared with her husband. God had given her a son—a son who would no doubt be very much like his father.

  As if to concur, Andy opened his eyes and looked up at her. Grace couldn’t help smiling. She saw the future in her son’s eyes. She saw the hope that she and Peter could one day be united again in love.

/>   “Oh, let it be, dear Father,” she whispered.

  To their surprise, not more than an hour after his departure, Crispin Thibault returned to their tent. He brought with him a none-to-pleased local doctor. The man grunted a greeting to Grace and Leah, then immediately took the baby in hand to examine him.

  “I thought you might both rest better if a doctor were to declare everything well done,” Crispin announced.

  Leah pulled the blanket across the roping to afford Grace and the doctor some privacy. She turned to Crispin and smiled. “Will you stay?” she asked hopefully.

  “No.” His voice was flat and void of emotion. “I can’t.”

  “Because of Miranda?”

  Crispin looked blankly at Leah for a moment. “Yes.”

  “It hurts a lot to lose someone you love. I know because I’ve lost both my ma and pa. I was really scared to be here with Grace, and I know I couldn’t have done it without you. See, my mama died trying to have a baby. I was scared Grace would die, too.”

  “Yes, well,” Crispin stammered in obvious discomfort, “it’s all behind us now.”

  “But it’s not,” Leah said, putting her hand on his arm. “You won’t stay with us because of Miranda’s death. You blame yourself, but it isn’t your fault.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice took on a gruff edge. “I need to go. The snow has abated, and no doubt Karen will return.”

  “Please, Crispin, don’t go. I know how you feel inside, but the whiskey won’t help.”

  “You talk as one who knows, and yet you’re a child.”

  “My mama said whiskey was nothing more than a crutch some folks used to help them hobble down the road to hell.”

  Crispin actually smiled at this. “I suppose her to be correct in that statement.”

  “She said God was the only one who could ease our sufferings.”

  He frowned again. “I see God as a crutch used by mere mortals to raise them higher to some supposed glory.”

  “I don’t mind leaning on God as a crutch,” Leah declared boldly. “I’d sure enough rather lean on God than a bottle.”