[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North

by Tracie Peterson

  No, that wasn’t true. Bill would have thought of it. The moment word came about two tons of gold shipping into Seattle’s harbor, he would have been digging up maps and information to see what the easiest and quickest route north might be. He would have plotted and planned it out, and then he would have taken it to Patience, extolling for his wife all the virtues of such an adventure. Then after he had settled down, Patience would have explained the pitfalls. She would have no doubt talked to him about the children’s needs and how such a plan would require far more investment than they could ever manage. She would have explained how supplies for just one person would have cost at least five hundred dollars and that they were lucky to have five dollars to their name on payday.

  Bill smiled and he fixed her image in his mind. Soft, dark curls like Leah’s and a face that must have been lent her by an angel. He could almost smell her sweet lavender soap. Almost touch her and . . .

  ‘‘Pa? Are you all right?’’

  He hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down his cheeks until he heard the voice of his daughter. Looking up, Bill wiped his face with a dusty handkerchief. ‘‘I’m fine, princess. Just fine.’’ He looked at Leah and shook his head. She looked too old to be only twelve. What kind of trouble would that prove to be? Hadn’t he already seen men eyeing her in a way that suggested they were considering how she might figure into their lives?

  Studying her for a moment, Bill patted the crate beside him and motioned her to sit. She was the very image of her mother. How could he possibly leave her behind? How could he leave Jacob, whose spirit was still so wounded?

  ‘‘Are you all right, Pa?’’ Leah asked again. She reached out her hand to take hold of his.

  Bill closed his fingers over hers. ‘‘I’m fine. I was just thinkin’ about your ma. I think she would have liked it up here. Don’t you?’’

  Leah smiled. ‘‘I think she would have thought us plumb crazy.’’

  Bill smiled and nodded. ‘‘I believe you’re right.’’ He gave her hand a little squeeze. ‘‘Fact is, I was just thinkin’ that as well.’’

  Leah shifted her weight and leaned against Bill. Her presence comforted him. How could he dare to venture north without them?

  ‘‘Pa, are we always going to live in a tent?’’

  Bill put his arm around Leah’s shoulders. ‘‘Of course not. Someday we’re gonna have a fine house.’’

  ‘‘Like when we lived in Denver?’’

  ‘‘You can’t remember back that far,’’ he said, reaching up to tousle her curls.

  ‘‘I remember the way Mama talked about it, though,’’ Leah replied. ‘‘She said it was so pretty. She had dainty cups and saucers to serve the church ladies tea.’’

  Bill frowned. He was happy that Leah couldn’t see his reaction. He remembered Patience boxing her collection of fine china and selling it to the secondhand store. It brought them just enough money to pay off one of their more pressing debts. He’d hated himself for letting her sell the collection, but hate soon turned to pity and misery. He could hardly even bear to look Patience in the eyes for weeks. She had told him it was all right, that they were only dishes. But he knew otherwise. He knew how much she’d loved her china.

  ‘‘I promise you, Leah, one day you’ll have a set of china just as pretty as your ma’s,’’ Bill declared. ‘‘As soon as we strike it rich up north, that’ll be one of the first things we send off for.’’

  Leah snuggled against him contentedly. Bill felt sheer gratitude that she didn’t question him. She believed in him. Somehow that almost allowed him to believe in himself.

  ‘‘I’m sorry it took so long, Bill,’’ Karen said as she stepped around to the back of the tent. ‘‘Now, what can I do for you?’’

  Bill finished stacking some of the shipping crates and wiped the sweat from his neck and forehead. ‘‘I was just wondering if you’d had any word on your father.’’

  Karen shook her head. She’d talked to so many people in the last couple weeks, and while some knew her father, none knew where he could be found. ‘‘I still have no idea where he is, if that’s what you’re wondering.’’

  ‘‘I’m sorry. I was hoping maybe you’d found him and that I just hadn’t heard.’’

  ‘‘It’s very kind of you to care,’’ Karen replied, surprised by his concern.

  ‘‘I wonder if you would mind,’’ he began, ‘‘if I asked around and gave a bit of a look for him myself?’’

  Karen looked at the bearded man with surprise. ‘‘You? But why would you want to spend your time that way?’’

  ‘‘Because I know what it is to lose someone,’’ he replied softly. ‘‘I can’t go finding what I’ve lost, but you can.’’

  Karen felt an overwhelming sensation of emotion. That this near stranger should care so much for her happiness and father’s well-being was a pleasant surprise in this land of greed.

  ‘‘I’m very touched that you would give of yourself in that way. My father is very precious to me,’’ Karen said. She looked beyond Bill to the mountains. ‘‘I know he’s out there somewhere. I feel it—down deep.’’ She turned to Bill. ‘‘Do you know what I mean?’’

  He nodded and his expression suggested that he, too, had known what it was to be so closely bound to someone that he could tell whether they lived or died, even if they were far away.

  ‘‘I have a photograph,’’ she said. ‘‘I could give it to you and you could use it to ask questions. I’ve shown it around a few places, but of course there are places I cannot go—or maybe better said, I should not go.’’ She grinned. ‘‘But I would go into the pits of hell itself if it meant finding him.’’

  Bill nodded. ‘‘I understand.’’

  His soft-spoken nature put her at ease. Looking at the man, Karen firmly believed he knew and understood her grief. Then it dawned on her that with Jacob and Leah, Bill would be rather tied down.

  ‘‘Since you offer to do this for me, might I suggest something in return?’’

  ‘‘What?’’ Bill asked.

  ‘‘Leah is a great help in the store. We’ve already sold most of the supplies Captain Colton brought this morning. However, we still have a few things and she could continue to help and I would also be happy to school her. Jacob too.’’

  ‘‘Jacob has a full-time job. He just got it today. He’s going to be helping to put in some of the dock piers. I’m not sure when they’ll get started, but he shouldn’t need you to fuss over him. It would be good to know that Leah is taken care of, however. I wouldn’t want any of the menfolk getting the wrong idea about her.’’

  ‘‘Absolutely not,’’ Karen said, knowing full well the kind of ideas the gold-rushing fanatics might get. She’d already turned down eight proposals in fourteen days, most from men who were old enough to be her father, much less know him.

  ‘‘If you would be willing to keep her here with you,’’ Bill suggested, ‘‘I could put the tent up right here in back of the store. She and Jacob could sleep out here in case I was gone late into the night.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Bill, you mustn’t spend all your time searching for me,’’ Karen chided. ‘‘You have to earn a living and see to those children. I wouldn’t feel right if you sacrificed your own family for mine.’’

  ‘‘I wouldn’t be doin’ that,’’ he said. ‘‘I just figured your pa might well have taken himself up the trail a bit. It’s only twelve miles or so up to Sheep Camp. I hear tell from the Tlingits here in Dyea that there are a lot of the Indian folk living in and around there, what with that being a good place to hire packers.’’

  ‘‘Packers?’’

  ‘‘The Indians are packing goods over the Chilkoot Pass for the stampeders. Many of the Tlingits that were living down here have gone up the trail to earn money from the white stampeders. Since your pa is involved with teaching the Indians about God, I thought maybe he’d followed them to that place.’’

  Karen felt a twinge of excitement. ‘‘You’re sure it�
�s the Tlingits? I mean, my father might have involved himself with other tribes, but those were the main people he felt called to minister to.’’

  Bill nodded. ‘‘It’s the Tlingits, all right. They used to have all the rights to the pass. I heard one old sourdough tellin’ that they used to charge their own fees for crossing over the land. In fact, they wouldn’t even allow traders in or out. They would buy the goods themselves and go over the pass and north to trade with the Yukon First Nations people.’’

  ‘‘You’ve certainly learned quite a bit in your short time up here,’’ Karen said, greatly impressed.

  Bill nodded. ‘‘Pays to keep an open ear. Anyway, this fella told me that there were a great many Tlingits, men, women, and children, getting paid handsomely to pack the miners’ goods up to the Scale and then up and over the summit.’’

  ‘‘Is it a bad climb?’’ Karen questioned. ‘‘I’ve heard so many talking of the difficulties. I presume that this is the same pass.’’

  ‘‘It is. It’s the shortest route north and that’s why so many folks are using it.’’

  Karen realized that this might well be the answer to her long and arduous prayers. She would have a difficult time leaving Grace and Doris to go scouting about. Especially miles down unfamiliar trails, with little to protect herself and no one to help her.

  ‘‘Well, is it a deal, then?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’ll see to Leah and Jacob. You can bring the tent here around back, but the children are welcome to stay inside our tent on nights when it looks like you might not return until late. I couldn’t sleep knowing they were out there by themselves. I’ll give them chores and they can earn their keep.’’ She smiled and extended her hand. ‘‘Deal?’’

  Bill smiled and nodded. ‘‘Deal.’’

  17

  —[ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ]—

  KAREN STOOD OVER a pot of hot water playing referee to a washboard and her best Sunday blouse. It came as an amazing fact that she was so clumsy with such a simple task. She had once been responsible for washing all of her things, but after a time in the Hawkins household, she had been relieved of such duties. She had been happy when such menial tasks were passed to servants, but now she wished she were more competent with such handwork.

  The afternoon was quite lovely, however, and if a person had to be battling the laundry, Dyea was a very scenic place to do it. There weren’t very many businesses, and in spite of the multitudes of people passing through, the area wasn’t nearly as lawless as Skagway.

  People passing through seemed to be her biggest problem, however. No one stuck around long enough to suggest whether they’d met up with her father or not. They were hurriedly passing from Skagway to the Chilkoot Trail with Dyea as nothing more than a resting-place. Or they were returning dejected and broke from the trail, with no time for the nonsense of talking with Karen about her missing father. She found herself lost in thoughts of what they’d do if she couldn’t find him. She worried even more that he might not even be alive. If he was dead, what would she do? There certainly wasn’t enough money to return to Seattle. Besides, did she really want to return to Seattle? I don’t know how we’ll get through the winter, she thought. If we can’t live in a proper house, with the necessary articles to protect ourselves and keep warm, we might all die.

  Casting a glance toward the mountains, Karen couldn’t help but feel the hypnotic lure of their beauty. It was a kind of madness, someone had said. A kind of sickness that got into a man or woman’s blood and refused to be purged. It was as she stood pondering this very issue that Bill Barringer chose to again appear in her life.

  ‘‘Karen! Karen!’’ Bill called out as he trudged down the muddy alleyway with two other men.

  Karen felt an electrifying tingle go up her spine. Bill was back! That had to be good. He’d been gone for weeks, and the days were getting colder, the threat of snow gradually giving everyone concern for their future. He ambled down the road, however, as if the weather and timing were of no concern.

  Karen noted that none of the men seemed in too much of a hurry. The smaller of the two was clearly a native. His shoulder-length black hair stuck out from an exaggerated white felt bowler, while the rest of his costume was a mix of heavy canvas pants, woolen jacket, and handmade knee-high boots. Their companion, a big, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a thick mustache, appeared similarly dressed, with a rifle and pack slung over his back.

  ‘‘Bill, have you found my father?’’ Karen asked, unconcerned with awaiting introductions.

  ‘‘I haven’t found him,’’ Bill admitted, ‘‘but both of these men know him and said that up until three weeks ago when they saw him last, he was doing just fine.’’

  Karen drew a deep breath to steady herself. ‘‘You actually saw him?’’ she said, looking to the men collectively.

  ‘‘Sure did. Brother Pierce was headin’ inland last we saw him,’’ the bigger man announced. ‘‘Makin’ his rounds.’’

  ‘‘And he was healthy?’’ she asked the man.

  His dark eyes were fixed on her face as he smiled. ‘‘Fit as any man can ever be.’’

  She nodded and allowed herself to relax a bit. ‘‘Do you know how I can reach him?’’

  The smaller man joined in the conversation. ‘‘He be back before first snow. He stay here in winter.’’

  ‘‘When can we expect first snow?’’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘‘Signs don’t seem to show it coming for at least a week or two,’’ the big man replied. ‘‘Then again, with snow, you can never be sure. A snow could come up tomorrow and seal the pass for a time or just leave a dusting. You can bet he’ll pack his way back here unless a blizzard comes. He won’t stay in the interior all winter.’’

  ‘‘Why not?’’ Karen asked.

  ‘‘Brother Pierce has always done business this way,’’ the man replied. ‘‘Don’t see why he’d change now.’’

  ‘‘So you think it might be a week, maybe more, before he heads back here to Dyea?’’

  ‘‘Looks like it. I’d just hold tight.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, Mr. . . .’’

  ‘‘Ivankov,’’ he replied. ‘‘Adrik Ivankov.’’

  ‘‘Adrik is a guide in these parts,’’ Bill explained. ‘‘And this is Dyea Joe. I’m afraid we weren’t very proper with our introductions.’’

  ‘‘That’s all right,’’ Karen said, reaching once again for the laundry board. ‘‘I’m learning very quickly that time spent in formalities down in the continental states is much better spent elsewhere up here.’’

  Adrik grinned. ‘‘Yes, ma’am, now you’re learning the Alaskan way.’’

  Karen smiled. ‘‘Is that what you call it?’’ Her mind was still reeling from the news that her father was safe and would return to them in a few short weeks, maybe even days. This thought gave birth to another. ‘‘Oh, by the way, has my father a house here in Dyea? I’ve tried to ask around, but the place is in such a state of confusion. Those who know of my father weren’t well enough acquainted to give me much detail.’’

  ‘‘He stay with my people,’’ Joe announced. ‘‘He no build house.’’

  ‘‘Oh,’’ Karen answered, knowing the disappointment she felt was clear in her tone.

  ‘‘Tent life unbecoming to you?’’ Adrik asked. ‘‘

  I just can’t imagine living in a tent all winter,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘I was kind of hoping to have something more substantial come winter.’’

  ‘‘A tent will keep you fine, even at forty below, Miss Pierce. The secret is getting it set up properly. There are a great many ways of keepin’ warm up here.’’ He winked.

  Karen felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘‘I think I’d prefer a house, just the same.’’

  ‘‘Looks to me things are being slapped together every day. Why not build yourself a place?’’ Adrik suggested, as though she had somehow overlooked the possibility.

  ‘‘We have discussed it,’’ she admitted. Prior to Peter Colton’s ret
urn from Seattle, they’d been quite low on funds, but Peter had been most generous with his cut to them for their hard work and now they were actually flush again. ‘‘I’m afraid,’’ she continued, ‘‘I don’t know who could do the job. Most of the good contractors are tied up with Skagway and Dyea hotel plans. If not that, then they’re busy planning main street shops and such.’’

  ‘‘Wouldn’t take much to put a place together,’’ Adrik said. ‘‘The three of us could do it. And if you womenfolk joined in helping, we could probably have something put up in a day, maybe two.’’

  ‘‘You’re joking, right?’’ she said, looking deep into the man’s rugged face. She figured him to be somewhere near her own age or older, but the elements had taken their toll on his skin, as had some obvious encounters with danger. From the looks of several small scars on his face and neck, Adrik Ivankov had obviously had his share of run-ins with the wildlife.

  ‘‘I’m not joking at all,’’ he replied. ‘‘If we can lay our hands on the lumber, it won’t take any time at all. If we have to fell and prepare logs, then it will take the better part of a week.’’

  Karen’s mind began doing mental calculations of what they could accomplish prior to her father’s return. Perhaps if she had a house already established for him, he’d feel free to stay with her and the others. That way they could spend all winter discussing plans for spring. On the other hand, if she waited until her father came back, he might have suggestions of his own. She would hate to leave him out of the decision-making process.

  ‘‘Let me talk to the others,’’ she said, again abandoning the scrub board. ‘‘Why don’t you all stay for supper and we can discuss this some more?’’

  Bill looked to the men, then returned his gaze to Karen. ‘‘I’ll stay. That way you can fill me in on things that happened while I was gone.’’

  ‘‘And you can be with the children,’’ she reminded him.

  ‘‘I’m afraid Joe and I can’t stay. We have business elsewhere. We’ll stop by tomorrow morning and see what you’ve decided,’’ Adrik said.