The expression on Amelia’s face tore at Grace’s heart. Her regret was so evident. “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself, Mother Colton.”
“Oh, but I was wrong, Grace. Miranda, I wronged you and Peter. I should have showed you a better way—a more faithful way to honor God. I never saw that it might cause you to turn away or find worship unimportant. I only desired to help Ephraim.”
“I heard my name being bandied about,” Ephraim Colton said, coming from the adjoining cabin.
Amelia smiled. “I assure you it was all for good. I was actually apologizing to Grace and Miranda for not having been more faithful in raising my children to fear God first and attend to duty second.”
Ephraim nodded, and the same sadness that had tinged Amelia’s eyes now touched his. “We’ve no one but ourselves to blame for taking such a lazy view of our faith and commitment to God.”
“But you were and are good parents,” Miranda said, putting aside her knitting. She went to her father and hugged him close. “God can restore our family and the wasted years. He’s already doing quite a good job of it with us. Peter will come around.”
A knock on the cabin door caught their attention.
“Peter!” Grace gasped, her hand going to her throat. She could only pray he had returned.
Ephraim went to the door, but instead of finding his son, he found his first mate accompanied by the local law officials. “Welcome aboard, gentlemen. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Ain’t hardly pleasure,” the taller of the two replied. “I have papers here from a Martin Paxton. He says he owns this ship and can take possession of it at any time. He wants you and your folks off the ship immediately.”
Grace was on her feet. “Summer Song belongs to the Coltons. Martin Paxton has no say whatsoever.”
Ephraim took the papers but continued to stare in disbelief at the lawman. “That’s right. Summer Song is a part of Colton Shipping.”
“I can’t help that, mister. Read these papers, and you’ll see they’ve been executed all legal-like back in San Francisco. We’re here to uphold the law.”
Grace went to Ephraim’s side. “Father Colton, don’t worry about this. There must be some mistake. We must go see Mr. Paxton and set things right.”
It took further convincing on Grace’s part, but finally Ephraim agreed. The sheriff ’s deputy, however, was of no mind to leave Amelia and Miranda on board while Ephraim and Grace went off to settle the affair. The two deputies ordered the party to gather their things and deboard the ship immediately.
Grace could hardly believe the order. She threw her things haphazardly into her trunks and watched helplessly as Summer Song’s crew went to work loading them off onto the dock. He was doing this to hurt her. Martin Paxton was doing this to punish the Coltons for helping her defy his plans. Perhaps Peter was right—perhaps Martin Paxton did not deserve forgiveness.
Mindless of the beautiful skies overhead, Grace allowed herself to be helped from the ship. The rush of activities along the harbor walk did nothing to take her mind from the moment. Peter would be furious. No doubt if Paxton thought he had rights to Summer Song, he would also take Merry Maid. Dear Lord, she prayed, you must help us. Peter will kill Mr.Paxton if he hasn’t already done the deed.
They hurried along with the confusion and bustle of new arrivals and old-timers. Supplies were stacked everywhere, and the noise was enough that a deaf man might well seek solace elsewhere. Grace hardly noticed the new buildings and busy freighters. Skagway nearly doubled its size by the week, but it was so completely unimportant at this moment.
“Miranda and I will try to arrange rooms,” Amelia said, putting her hand on her husband’s coat sleeve. “I’m sure we’ll find something nearby.”
“But what if this is all a misunderstanding?” Miranda questioned. “Would we not be better waiting?”
“No, your mother is right. I can hardly have you standing here unprotected on the streets while I go find Mr. Paxton.”
The deputy who had accompanied them this far spoke up.
“Mr. Paxton is residing in the rooms above his store. I have to report to him, and you might as well come with me.”
“I’m coming, too,” Grace said firmly. “After all, he’s doing this because of me.”
Ephraim looked for a moment as if he might refuse her, then nodded slowly. “Get us rooms, Amelia. We can all meet for lunch at that little place on Third. Go there after you have secured us a place to stay, but be watchful and speak to no one. The town is full of ne’er-do-wells.”
Amelia nodded and clung to Miranda’s arm. “We’ll be just fine. I’ll keep two of the crew with me until you join us.”
Ephraim looked past his wife to the men who had accompanied them. Laden with bags and trunks, the men’s attention remained fully on their captain. “Watch over them.”
The two men closest to them gave Ephraim their pledge. Grace looked to her father-in-law and saw the sorrow in his expression. Was he seeing his lifelong dream pass before his eyes? Had he come to the harsh north only to lose his fortune like so many others? She’d not stand for it! She would fight Martin Paxton with every ounce of her strength. She had to make him see that this feud was an exercise in futility. She was a married woman, and whether her husband desired her company or not, their commitment was still binding.
The deputy led them past the Pillbox Drug Company, the Yukon Outfitters, and Burkhard House. She knew well the location of Paxton’s store, for it had been in place when she’d left the previous December.
Following the deputy into the store and past the curious stares of the onlookers, Grace tried to pray. She wanted to remain calm and rational. She wanted God to do her talking, rather than her own emotions. But it was hard. All she could think about was the harm Paxton had once again caused her. She thought of how Karen presumed that because Grace wanted to extend forgiveness to the man, she couldn’t possibly understand the extent of his cruelty.
But I understand it only too well, Grace thought. It seemed like only yesterday that he had slapped her at their engagement party. She could almost feel his breath upon her neck, his hands upon her body. The thought made her feel physically ill.
They passed from the main floor and climbed up a dark passage of stairs. The deputy knocked at the door, and Martin Paxton himself opened it. He stared down at the man, seeing beyond him to Ephraim and then Grace. He rested his gaze upon Grace, then smiled with an expression that suggested he’d known she would come.
“Thank you, Deputy,” he said and tossed the man a coin. “I can take care of the situation from here. Please make sure you have men standing guard at the dock. I don’t want anyone getting the idea they can sneak back on board.” The man nodded, then turned to push past Grace and Ephraim.
“Come in,” Paxton said, walking away from Ephraim and Grace. “I have been expecting you both.”
“Do you care to tell me what this is all about?” Ephraim questioned without waiting to so much as take a seat. “This man shows up on board my ship and demands we leave. He hands me these papers and tells me you have commanded my removal.”
Paxton poured himself a glass of brandy, then took a seat behind a massive desk. He pulled a gold watch chain from his red print silk vest and popped open the cover on the piece. “I have exactly fifteen minutes. No more. If you care to sit down, I will do my best to explain. However,” he paused and looked hard at Grace, “I am only doing this out of respect for my mother. I know she held you in highest regard, Ephraim. Oth- erwise, I’d have not let you cross the threshold.”
Ephraim guided Grace to the leather upholstered chair opposite Paxton and sat down on its matching twin only after she had taken a seat. She smoothed out the soft lavender wool of her skirt and unbuttoned her jacket. She tried hard not to look at Paxton, but he seemed to pull her attention against her will.
His eyes were dark with hatred, and his hair seemed to have grayed a bit around the temples. Grace knew his severe looks were consi
dered handsome by many women, but the coldness in his eyes only left her wanting to run from the room.
“To get right to business, you will find those papers are the ones you signed some time ago in San Francisco. Our agreement spoke of my investment and of the fact that should I feel that investment was threatened, I would have the right to withhold further support and stop any other action until I was confident that my investment was no longer threatened. It allowed me a great deal of interpretation when it came to defining ‘threat to my investment.’”
“I still don’t understand what that has to do with anything. We’ve been doing a tidy business. You’ve been paid back regularly,” Ephraim replied. “How could you possibly see your business investment as being threatened?”
“Because there is bad blood now running between your son and me. I could only conclude that you were supportive of his decisions when you arrived here in Skagway with Miss—excuse me—Mrs. Grace Colton in your company.” He scowled at Grace. “She was, in fact, to have married me. She broke her father’s written and verbal agreement and fled to Alaska from Chicago. I took this in stride as her youth no doubt gave her over to a bad case of wedding jitters, but I had no tolerance for her deception in arranging her marriage to your son. Furthermore, Peter knew of my arrangement with Grace and chose to ignore it. Thus, I suffered great financial setback.”
“I had no such arrangement with you,” Grace countered before Ephraim could speak. “You are doing this only to punish me for thwarting your plans. You are throwing away a lifetime of friendship with a man who was good to you when no one else was there, all because I refused to be your wife. That hardly seems a sensible choice, Mr. Paxton.”
“I’ve no doubt that to your simple mind, Mrs. Colton, the issues at hand seem to be less than sensible. But I assure you, they are. How much longer would it have been before your husband would have come blaming me for the destruction of his store in Dyea? Furthermore, how much longer would it have been before he and his father might have decided their arrangement with me was less than pleasant, and because many new businesses would happily purchase their goods, I might well find myself paying exorbitant prices for items of lesser quality? You do not truly believe that I would stand by and await those conclusions, do you?”
“You know very well that my father-in-law would never have done such a thing. I cannot believe you would perform such a childish deed, throwing the man and his family off his own ship, leaving us to seek refuge without warning.”
Paxton swirled his brandy for a moment, then downed it quickly. He slammed the snifter to the desk, breaking its delicate stem and leaving it jagged and useless atop the now scarred wood.
He got up just as quickly from his seat and pulled on his outer coat. “Your time is nearly up. I want to add that Merry Maid is even now docked near Dyea. I have arranged for her to be brought here and for your son to be escorted from her as you have been escorted from Summer Song. I will expect your cooperation, and I will accept no further trouble in this matter.”
“You . . . you . . . can’t be serious,” Ephraim gasped the words and clutched at his chest. “Colton Shipping is my life. It is my son’s inheritance. I would never have signed it away to you. You have duped me. The business belongs to Peter.”
“And Grace belonged to me,” Paxton said without concern for the man’s obvious distress.
Grace saw her father-in-law turn ashen. His eyes met hers, and she could see they were wild with pain. “He’s sick! Can’t you see that!” She reached out to touch the older man, desperate that she might keep him from further discomfort.
Paxton walked away from them and went to the door. He called out two names, and in a moment the same thugs who had tried to escort Grace to a wedding with Paxton appeared.
“Take Mr. Colton to the doctor two doors down. He appears to be suffering from some sort of heart attack.”
The men moved quickly and hoisted Ephraim from his seat. The thick, stocky, bulldog-faced man was none too careful as he lead the way out of the room, knocking Ephraim clumsily against the doorjamb before heading down the steps.
Grace hurried after them, but Paxton stopped her. He closed the door and shook his head. “Sit.”
“I thought you only had fifteen minutes to spare,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm.
“I had only fifteen minutes for explanations to stupid men. You, however, are another matter.”
“Indeed,” Grace said, her anger besting her. “I am a married woman.”
“I can easily remedy that. You have only to cooperate with me, Grace, and I’ll see that Colton’s mediocre shipping line is returned to him. Divorce Peter Colton and marry me. Do this and they will have not only their business restored, but the contract between us will be dissolved and the bill paid in full.”
Grace felt her mouth go dry. “I cannot divorce. It’s a sin.”
“Is it not also a sin to kill a man?” Paxton asked casually. He leaned against the door and looked at her in a way that suggested less than pure thoughts.
“I’ve killed no one,” she barely whispered.
“That man is sure to die unless he finds his company securely back in place. He’s heartbroken—literally,” Paxton said, laughing.
Grace hated his snide remarks at the expense of her father-in-law. She reached out to pound her fists against his chest, but he easily caught her arms and held her tight.
“You can’t fight me, Grace. I have more power than you could imagine.”
“God’s power is greater.”
Paxton laughed heartily. “Then let God get you out of this one.” He released her and walked back to his desk. “You know the price and the terms, so you’re free to leave. I will expect your answer before the week is out.”
“You may have my answer now. I will not divorce my husband. I made a covenant before God, and whether or not such things matter to you,” Grace said, her voice betraying her fear, “they matter to me.”
Paxton shrugged. “It’s just a matter of time, my dear. Do you really imagine that when faced with losing the family business and the livelihood he’s always known, your husband will desire to remain married? Especially when I explain to him how you could have saved his father all of this grief—how you could have kept his mother and sister off the streets.
No, I don’t think your husband will worry half so much about keeping this covenant as the one I hold against his father.”
“You’re evil,” Grace breathed, moving with shaky steps toward the door. “You’re as evil and wicked a man as I have ever known.”
Paxton leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms against his chest. His hard face tensed, and the thin scar that lined his right jaw seemed to become more prominent. His green eyes narrowed as he spoke. “Be that as it may, you have until the end of the week to reconsider this matter. Perhaps Ephraim will be dead by then—perhaps not. But no doubt your husband will be alive, and he’ll want answers and he’ll want his ships.”
“What makes you think even if I were forced to divorce Peter that I would marry you?” Grace couldn’t help but ask.
“That’s simple. The deal wouldn’t be concluded until my ring was upon your finger.”
A coldness crept over Grace, and she feared momentarily that she might very well pass out. “Why are you doing this? You’ve already robbed my family of their fortune. I have nothing you could possibly want.” She opened the door, feeling only slightly better for being able to see her way to freedom. She looked back to Paxton. “Why?”
“That’s completely unimportant,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You have no understanding of my business, and neither will I afford you one. I want you, and that is all you need to understand. I will expect to see you again by Friday.”
—[CHAPTER TWELVE]—
PETER COLTON STARED back from shore at the Merry Maid. Not but an hour ago he had labored over the log, tallying expenses to be offset by profits. In spite of the fire and the loss of his trading post, h
e was doing well enough. He had sold the extra supplies to half a dozen businesses and had made a considerable profit. But then his entire world had changed in a matter of minutes. Before he realized what had even happened, a group of men, armed with guns and badges, pressed into his cabin. Papers were served, and while Peter quietly considered their content, the men began ordering his men to ready Merry Maid for the trip into Skagway.
Now as he stood on the docks of Skagway, Summer Song resting easy in the waters not far from Merry Maid, he felt nothing but a numb sensation of disbelief. How could it be that his ship was gone—taken from him in a heartbeat? He hadn’t even known his father was in dock. He had to find him and try to figure out what had just happened.
A million thoughts rushed through Peter’s mind as he made his way along the wharf. Was his father angry with him for rejecting Grace? An anger strong enough that he signed Merry Maid over to Martin Paxton? Surely not. The thought was incomprehensible.
He spotted one of his father’s crew and motioned the man to his side. “Are you going aboard Summer Song? Is my father to be found there?”
The man shook his head. “Haven’t ya heard? Them lawmen came and took him and the missus and your missus and sister, as well, and sent them off the ship, they did.”
“What?” Now Peter was truly confused. “Grace is here—Miranda? What has happened?”
“Don’t know,” the man said with a shrug. “I heard the captain sold off everything to pay a debt.”
“That’s impossible. My father owed no man that kind of money. My papers said the Merry Maid had become the property of Martin Paxton. Do you know anything about that?”
“No, Captain. But I did hear that your father took an attack of the heart and is lying sick in town.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s been moved a couple of times. Last I knew he was at the Hotel Alaska.”
“Thank you,” Peter said, pushing back his billed cap. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t let the men lose hope. Tell them we’ll fight this.”
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