by Jamie Carie
She had the good sense not to gloat.
If Buck did come back, I could always explain. He would understand if it was for a good cause, wouldn’t he?
“You always get what you want, don’t you, Kate?” The resentment in my voice was as thick as molasses.
She shrugged, a look of determination filling her eyes. “I always want good things, Ellen. Everyone wins—the miners, you girls, me, and most of all, the hospital. What’s so wrong with that?”
I sighed. “All right, Kate. You win . . . again. When is the auction?”
“Christmas Eve, of course. Right here in the dance hall.” Her eyes fairly twinkled with excitement. “And tonight we will spread the word and hint, a planted rumor if you will, that Dawson’s own Jewel will be on the auction block.”
The nightmare washed back over me like cold fingers clawing at my back. I sat up, a sudden gasping of breath, and slowly blinked awake. It was an old dream, one I hadn’t had in years, but as chilling as the first time.
I swung my feet to the floor and stood up to pace. My breath made puffs of vapor in the freezing air, but my shivering was from more than the cold. I saw it again—my father with big chains in his hands, wrapping them around my mother’s throat. He tightened the chains, slowly cutting off her breath, until she sagged against the back of the chair.
It was just a dream. Just a dream.
I repeated the phrase until my heartbeat slowed, but I couldn’t shake off the crawling sensation on my back. Oh, Buck. I wish you were here. I wish I had someone to talk to. I wish I had someone to hold me. I’m so tired of being alone.
I sat back on the bed and pulled the blanket around me, trying to be quiet and not wake Stella. The early morning light filtered in through the cracks of the dark curtains as I laid my forehead against my upraised knees.
Dear Lord, why did my father have to leave? Why wasn’t he strong enough? I need someone to talk to. I’ve been praying for everyone else—the men, Kate, the girls here, Buck—but I am afraid to pray for myself. I’m afraid You won’t be there for me either, just like my father . . .
Tears trickled from beneath my tightly closed eyes as I said the truth in my heart. Why did I think God might answer my prayers for others but not for me?
The dream washed back over me, and I saw my father’s face. It turned from loving affection to snarling, lip-curling hatred directed at my mother. He had hated her. Hated what she put him through with her emotional and physical problems, and that’s why he left. It wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d picked up his place when he left and kept everything and everyone together the best I could. And Jonah? Jonah had demanded we come here. I had tried to take the very best care of him that I could. I took a long, shaky breath. It wasn’t my fault that he died.
Lord, show me what You think of me. Those Scriptures said You have thoughts toward me, outnumbering the sand. Tell me Your thoughts.
Nothing came for a long time, and then flashes of light flickered behind my closed eyes. I saw myself in a glowing white gown lying in a grassy meadow with wildflowers of every color swaying in a sweet-smelling breeze all around me. Upon my head was a crown of entwined wildflowers and bright green leaves. My feet were bare and my hands were outstretched. The breeze blew over me and somehow through me from my feet, up and up, to my head bringing with it a deep and profound sense of peace. A small smile played across my lips as I simply rested.
Gone was all the fear, all the anxiety about the future, all the struggles of wants and desires unfulfilled. The peace was so strong, so alive, there wasn’t room for anything else. Like a bright light, it conquered every inch of my darkness. I laughed.
It started as a small giggle and then built and built until I threw myself back on the bed in a fit of pure joy. I laughed until tears poured down my cheeks as the relief of knowing God’s peace and care for me spread through my core to touch and tingle every part of my body.
God hadn’t left me at all! I’d just forgotten He was there.
“Ellen! Whatever is the matter with you?”
I turned over to see Stella standing over me with wide, panicked eyes. Another giggle escaped that I tried to suppress. “God loves me,” I whispered and then giggled again.
Stella shook her head back and forth. “Of course He does. Nobody deserves it like you do.”
“No.” I sat up and grasped her forearms, my eyes wide with the truth. “He really loves me! And He loves you too. And everybody. It’s so big. Just ask Him to show you.”
“You’ve gone and lost your wits, Ellen. Of course God loves everybody.” Stella backed away and climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over her head. “Get some sleep. We’ve got the auction tonight.”
It struck me as I lay down, still smiling, still feeling overwhelmed with God’s love for me, that Stella wasn’t ready to see it yet. That I hadn’t been really ready until just this moment. That God was there all along, waiting for all of us to wake up.
Thank You for waking me up, Lord.
I drifted off with a smile on my face, resting in the cradle of His arms.
Buck stood across from Inspector Constantine in the Northwest Mounted Police headquarters in Forty Mile, trying to curb his impatience. “There has got to be something you can do.”
The inspector shook his head, a frown showing underneath a thick, brown beard. “Mr. Lewis, I’m sorry about your wife, but Skagway is US territory, and besides, it sounds like an accident by your account of the story. Unfortunately these things happen.”
Buck gritted his teeth and slapped his hat back on his head. “So, even if I find him and haul him back here, you won’t do a thing about it, is that right?”
“I can question him, possibly send him back to Alaska, but sir, what motive would the man have to kill your wife? Would you want someone punished for an accident? It could happen to anybody.”
“It didn’t happen to anybody. It happened to her!” Buck’s voice rose and then quieted. “It happened to me.”
The inspector sighed and nodded with a compassionate look in his brown eyes. “Tell you what. You bring him in, and we’ll get to the bottom of what happened. I will keep an eye out for him too. You say he is with one or two other fellows?”
Buck gave the descriptions of the two men he knew were traveling together again and then turned to leave. “Thank you, sir.” He pushed out the door into the bright sunshine that glittered off the snow and hurt his eyes. Tears trickled down the creases in his cheeks as he blinked rapidly. He felt like cursing but instead slapped his thigh and walked to the dogsled.
He’d been in Forty Mile for two weeks! Two weeks of almost catching up with them. But every time he got close, they moved on to another streambed or tributary of the Forty Mile River. It was as if they knew he was tracking them and were able to stay just one step ahead. But how could that be? He’d told no one his business in the little town, just presented himself as another gold seeker. It didn’t make sense.
Buck led the dogs to the barely discernible street, readying them for the long mush back toward Moosehide Creek. He’d heard last night at a saloon that two men, strangers to all, were camping in an old abandoned cabin there. It was the first good lead he’d had in days. And now with Inspector Constantine’s promise of support, albeit reluctant, Buck had more reason to bring them in than ever before.
Lord, I could sure use some help with this. I’m ready, Lord. Please.
The day was warmer, and Buck passed several townsfolk as he rode by on the dogsled toward the confluence in the road, one branch following the Forty Mile River west, and the other heading back toward Dawson City following the Yukon River.
Someone he recognized from the saloon last night waved as he went past and yelled, “If you’re back by tomorrow, stop in for some Christmas cheer. Big celebration at the Bald Eagle!”
Everything inside Buck stopped. Tomorrow was Christmas? How could he have forgotten? Ellen’s face flashed in front of him, and the letter she’d sent hi
m burned from his coat pocket against his chest. He gripped the reins with one hand and pulled it out with the other, opening it with his teeth. It was wrinkled and creased from reading it so many times.
God, why do I feel like I’ve left a part of me behind? It had been different with his wife—he’d been so much older than her, strong, confident. Ellen seemed more of an equal somehow.
Buck came to the Y in the road and hauled on the reins. “Whoa.” He looked west, toward the man who had killed his wife, and then east, toward Dawson City and Ellen. His mind made swift calculations of the time and distance. It was the middle of the day on Christmas Eve . . .
If he headed west, he would never make it back for Christmas. He’d promised Ellen. Her father had left her before Christmas. If Buck broke his promise, she would never trust him or believe him again.
But the man was so close. He could feel it. And wasn’t that the reason he’d risked his life to come to this forsaken place in the middle of frozen tundra?
“Ahhhh!” He yelled with a fist toward the sky. “I just can’t do it.”
Chapter Thirteen
We want Jewel! We want Jewel!”
The crowd chanted the phrase from the floor of the smoky dance hall. I stood on the stage, cowering behind the black curtain. Was I really going to do this? It wasn’t too late to back out, and the good Lord must know of other ways to help the hospital than my being a wife to a miner for a day. The fact that I’d dreamed of being a bride for so long and ended up with this caused sparks of anger to flare through me.
Lord, I want my own story. Is that so wrong?
I peeked out of the crack between the curtains and scanned the large room. Kate had done a good job advertising the event as the dance hall was packed with rows of bearded, whooping miners. Additional lanterns had been brought in, and spruce boughs tied with red ribbon decorated the walls adding to the Christmas feel. I bit down on my lower lip. All of the other girls had already gone; it was my turn, or my last chance to back out.
“We want Jewel! We want Jewel!” The cheering grew louder.
One thing was clear, I couldn’t stall any longer. Taking a deep breath, I parted the silky drape that served as a curtain and stepped into the bright lantern light.
The whooping miners greeted me with applause and foot stomping. There were even some Northwest Mounted Police in the back, standing out in their glossy red coats and wide, round hats that made them identifiable as the law in this place. My gaze darted from one end of the room to the other. How I wanted to turn around and run back behind that curtain! Or at least use it to cover the new green dress Kate had insisted upon, but I forced myself to stay rooted to the wooden planks of the stage.
Kate hitched up her sapphire gown and ascended the steps to stand next to me on the stage. She held up her hands and shouted above the roar. “Gentlemen, quiet, please, let us start the bidding.” She motioned for me to stroll around by circling her finger. I just stared back into her excited eyes, rooted to the floor by shaking knees and a quivering stomach.
“Gentlemen! I give you the Monte Carlo’s very own! The lovely Jewel of Dawson! Those of you who have danced with her know of her goodness. Gracious, half of you have proposed to her. So imagine getting your wish for a single day!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wink at the crowd.
“A wife for Christmas. Now who will start the bidding? Do I hear five hundred dollars?”
I wished for a hole to crawl in. The stomping and cheering made my heart thud too hard. I shuddered when a huge man in grimy clothes at the back of the room lifted an arm. “Five hundred,” he shouted and then spit a line of tobacco juice on the shoes of his neighbor. I could make out his leering grin underneath all the beard and the glitter of lust in his eyes.
This was a terrible mistake. I couldn’t go through with it. Lord, get me out of here!
The bidding and revelry continued to roar in my ears as the lights grew strangely dim. Oh no, don’t faint!
“Six hundred dollars!” A stocky man with hard eyes and a mean twist to his lips yelled out.
“A thousand dollars!” Countered a newly rich, white-haired sourdough. I imagined him trying to press a kiss on me, and the urge to retch rose to the back of my throat.
“One thousand dollars. Do I hear two thousand?” Kate’s eyes were truly fever pitched now.
“Five thousand.” A stocky man I’d never seen before countered. Oh no, please, God, not him.
“Five thousand dollars!” Kate said into the quieting crowd. The other girls had brought in five to eight hundred. Five thousand dollars for a dancing girl for one day was unheard of.
I cringed at the man with the leading bid. He stared back at me and licked his lips like a cat waiting for his daily bowl of cream.
I began to pant in fear and shook my head back and forth. I looked over at Kate, pleading in my eyes.
Kate nodded her agreement that he was unacceptable and faced the crowd. “Come on, gents! I know many of you have spent more than that on an evening’s worth of champagne. Jewel will make you a nice Christmas dinner and keep you company on the loneliest day of the year. Come on now. Do I hear ten thousand?”
“Twenty thousand dollars!” The man who had made the first bid raised his hand and flashed me a victorious smile. Everyone gasped at the sum, and darkness threatened the corners of my vision. Just as it was about to swallow me up, I heard a smooth male voice say into the shuffling and murmuring of the room.
“Her weight in gold.”
The clamor of the room died away into turned heads and slack jaws. Kate glanced at me with her hands clasped together under her chin. “Gentlemen, did you hear that? Her weight in gold!” Everyone’s attention riveted on the tall man in black at the back of the room who had said it.
I blinked, trying to see beyond the shadows, but he wasn’t even looking at me. He was busy scribbling something on a piece of paper. All I could see was the top of his smooth, black hat.
Kate cleared her throat, “Ah, sir? You do know that at sixteen dollars an ounce, your bid will come to over thirty thousand dollars?”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.” He paused and finally looked up. “Have you a better offer?”
“No, no.” Kate’s gaze swept over the silent crowd. “Gentlemen, does anyone have a better offer?” The crowd remained silent. It was as if all the air had been belly-punched right out of them.
I felt as frozen as the outdoors. Paying that kind of money, what would he expect from me? I knew I should put a stop to this, but I couldn’t seem to move. I watched, dazed, as he walked forward into the light and directed his gaze toward me for the first time.
His eyes were dark and held a glimmer of laughter in a face that was nothing short of pure masculine beauty. I’d never seen him before, but I heard Kate’s sharp inhale and jerked my attention to her. “Do you know him?”
I looked back at the man as she whispered in an angry hiss, “You! I can’t believe it.”
He took off his hat, revealing sleek black hair, and with suppressed mirth in his eyes tipped it toward Kate. He turned back to me, locked his gaze to mine, and asked the question everyone in the room wanted answered. “How much do you weigh?”
I opened my mouth, shut it, and then opened it again.
“Ma’am, how much do you weigh?”
“I—I’m not sure, 120, I believe.”
He looked me up and down, as if to judge the validity of my words. My face grew hot under his gaze, but he didn’t seem to notice. He turned his attention back to his paper and scribbled some more.
Raising his head, he said to Kate, “At 120 pounds and gold at sixteen dollars an ounce, her bride’s price is $30,920.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy bag of gold. He held it in his hand for a moment, looking at me. “There’s just one condition.”
My heart dropped, and the onlookers strained forward to hear this new development.
“She has to go with me now.”
“W
hy you no-good, black-hearted, dirty—”
“Now, Kate, you can call me names later.” His deep voice was rich with humor. “Let’s take care of business first, shall we? You know I won’t harm the girl.”
Eyes on fire, Kate motioned to the pianist to start up the clanking music and led the way to her table, pulling me along by a tight grip on my forearm.
It there ever was a time to pray, it was now.
Lord, help!
Chapter Fourteen
It was quiet and nearly empty as Kate dragged me over to her private table in the back of the barroom. She called for the scales to be brought over, her eyes slits of angry distrust toward the dark-haired man as he sat across from us.
I swallowed hard, watching them play out a scene I shouldn’t be witnessing much less participating in. I took a breath, then faced the man. “Who are you?”
He bowed his head toward me and reached for my hand. His voice was all husky charm as he leaned over my hand and planted a light kiss against the back of it. “Kate, would you like to do the introductions?”
Kate gave him the dagger eyes. “I’m sure you can manage on your own. You always could.”
“Very well.” He gave me a knowing, wicked smile that made my hand tremble in his. “The name is Lucky and you are Jewel, yes?”
I nodded, not knowing if he should know my real name or not but thinking that like many in the Paris of the North, as Dawson was called, Lucky was another nickname.
He flashed that devastating grin as I pulled my hand from his grasp.
“Charming as ever, I see.” Kate reached for the pouch of gold he’d laid on the table. “Looks like you’ve been lucky as usual too.” She weighed the heavy bag in her hand, lifting it up and down, and eyed him with glittering distrust, then began to pour the flakes and nuggets onto the scale. She repeated the process, scale after scale, until there were little but a few grains of sparkling dust left in the bag. She flung it across the table at him.
