[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North

by Tracie Peterson

  ‘‘I was capable of running a ship at his age,’’ Peter retorted, having no patience for weak men. ‘‘Barringer should never have left you unprotected.’’

  ‘‘We weren’t unprotected,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘The Winchester and I had the matter under control.’’

  ‘‘But what might have happened if you’d been asleep?’’

  ‘‘I had tried to go to sleep, but I couldn’t,’’ Karen replied.

  ‘‘Now I believe God was keeping me awake to ensure our safety.’’

  ‘‘I don’t see God providing a building for you,’’ Peter retorted.

  ‘‘Well, He did send you,’’ Grace replied, offering him a smile.

  Peter couldn’t accept that answer as valid. ‘‘Think what you will.’’ He looked around the room and shook his head. ‘‘I’ll send some of my men over to help you box this stuff up. One way or another, we’ll move you out. Until then, I’ll post guards if need be.’’

  Bill reached up to rub his tired shoulders. Stiff and sore, they served to remind him of the journey ahead, as well as the ones he’d already completed. Packing supplies up the long, difficult Dyea trail was no simple task. Day after day he’d found himself pressed to endure impossible terrain and surly-tempered clients. He’d taken to loading his packs heavier each day and now could handle one hundred pounds, same as most of the Tlingit packers on the route up the Chilkoot Pass. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, he was worn out and ready for nothing more than a hot meal and bed.

  Winter had set in, and in some ways this made matters much easier to deal with. Now, instead of struggling to muck through oozing mud paths and climb over boulders and fallen trees, the ground had frozen solid and a coating of packed snow allowed for a more productive means of transporting the goods. Even better, the area between the Scales and the summit had been modified and a stairway of ice had been carved out of the mountainside. The hike was still long and arduous but much easier to master. The packers stood in line for what seemed like miles, rope guide in one hand, walking stick in the other, hunched over under the weight of their belongings.

  Coming down was much simpler. Most of the packers took to the side of the carved pathway and slid down the mountain on their backsides. Sometimes they were even lucky enough to sit atop a piece of wood or a shingle for the wild ride down. It sure beat hiking down as they had before the snows were plentiful.

  The cold weather actually did more to encourage the stampeders and their packers. A person needed to keep moving in the bitter winds, otherwise they could find themselves quickly freezing to death. Bill and two other men had come across a woman and child only a day earlier, half frozen and starving in a snowbank. Neither were dressed for the climate nor the ordeal of mastering the summit. After seeing them to safety, Bill couldn’t help but think of his daughter. He shuddered to think of Leah lying frozen at the side of the road.

  The image only increased his resolve to go north on his own. He was ready now. He’d been earning almost forty cents per pound to pack goods and had spent very little until today.

  Smiling at the stack of goods he could now call his own, Bill couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. Several men had become discouraged with their dreams of gold and had sold out to Bill. As required by the government of Canada, Bill had enough supplies to see him through a year in the wilderness. There was some fifteen hundred pounds of assorted goods, part of which he’d already packed to the summit on behalf of his client. Now the materials awaiting him atop the pass belonged to him. He had the bill of sale and could prove his ownership.

  The idea sent a surge of anticipation and excitement coursing through his body. There would still be more than a dozen trips to make up and down the ice stairway, but that was of no real concern. He could do it. He had already come this far and nothing would stop him. Everything was planned. Everything seemed in order.

  Bill tried not to think about his intentions to give sole responsibility of his children’s well-being to Karen Pierce. With Jacob working and Leah helping at the store, they were no doubt earning their own keep. They couldn’t possibly be costing Miss Pierce that much to feed and house. He comforted himself with the reasoning that they were much better off warm and safe in Dyea, no matter who might be helping to care for them.

  When I strike it rich, he thought, then I’ll send for them and we’ll be a family again. They’ll understand that I’ve done what is right and best. At least he hoped they would.

  He covered the supplies with a tarp and staked it down. His last order of business was to make one final trip down to Dyea. He had to tell Leah and Jacob good-bye, and he had to explain to Karen Pierce what he was doing and why he needed her help. It never really entered his mind until that moment that they might all protest his action and refuse to cooperate. He frowned, trying to imagine what he would do or say should they cause a fuss. Jacob would insist on going north with him, yet there were no supplies for his son. As it was, Bill had teamed up with another group of men and this was allowing for a much easier time. One man had a stove and another the tools. A third man was a walking arsenal, refusing to go north without his beloved ivory-handled pistols, two rifles, and a shotgun. Bill had an entire set of pots, pans, and camp dishes, along with some tools and something more valuable than the others combined—a working knowledge of mining.

  No, he’d simply have to explain the situation to Jacob and insist he remain behind to care for Leah and await the time when Bill could send for them.

  ‘‘Bill, you heading down to Dyea?’’ one of the trio he’d partnered with asked.

  ‘‘Yeah, heading there now.’’

  The man produced a list and a wad of bills. ‘‘See what you can get. I’ve already searched through Sheep Camp and wasn’t able to get much of anything.’’

  Bill nodded and pocketed the list with the bills. ‘‘My friends run a store in Dyea. I might have better luck. Keep an eye out for my goods, will you?’’

  The man nodded. ‘‘We’ll be packing the whole time you’re gone, may even get a chance to move some of your stuff up as well.’’

  Bill hadn’t considered that his team might be delayed by his brief journey to Dyea. ‘‘I could hire a couple of Tlingits to help,’’ he offered.

  The man considered the idea for a moment. ‘‘I could see to it. You can pack my goods up from Dyea, and I’ll see to keeping you caught up with the rest of us.’’

  ‘‘Deal,’’ Bill replied, then without wasting any more time on conversation, he picked up the small sack he’d put together for his hike to Dyea. ‘‘I’d best get a move on.’’

  The hours of daylight were lessening considerably as the sun altered its course in winter. Bill found the lack of light a minor inconvenience. Having spent most of his adult life in mines of one sort or another, the darkness had never been an impediment to him. Still, the trails were more dangerous at night and he had little desire to be lost to an encounter with wildlife, or worse yet, underhanded humans.

  The road back to Dyea was easier in the snow. Hard-crusted paths had been tramped down by hundreds of feet before his, and Bill found it far less complicated than maneuvering through the knee-high mud of late summer and fall. The frozen Taiya River would also afford him an easy path. With exception to those places where fallen trees and logs made artistic combinations with the now frozen water, the river would make a straight run into Dyea and shorten the time Bill would be on the trail. If I had ice skates, I could make the trip in half the time, he thought, smiling.

  It was nearly dark by the time Bill reached Dyea. He’d already decided he would talk to Karen first. He would just explain the situation as it was and not give her a chance to refuse him. It had to be this way, and the sooner she realized it the better. If he had to, he’d tell her some of the horrors he’d seen along the way. He’d talk about the nearly frozen woman and her child. He’d even talk about the dead—those who had succumbed to the elements or their own weak bodies.

  As if by preorde
r, Bill arrived at the tent store just as Doris and Grace were heading out with Leah.

  ‘‘Papa!’’ Leah exclaimed. She hugged him tight and kissed his frozen cheek. ‘‘We’re just off to do some shopping at Healy and Wilson’s store. Do you want to come?’’

  ‘‘You have a store right here,’’ he teased. ‘‘Are you deserting the Colton Trading Post?’’

  Leah laughed. ‘‘No. The other store has a new load of goods. They just came in last week. They have bolts of corduroy, and Grace and I are going to make me a new skirt.’’

  Grace smiled up at Bill. She was hardly any taller than his daughter and very nearly the same build. ‘‘It’s true, Mr. Barringer. Corduroy will make for a very warm skirt, and we must hurry or it will be taken up by the other women. Besides, we want to get back before it’s completely dark.’’

  ‘‘Then, by all means, don’t let me be the reason for the delay. I’ll be here when you get back, princess,’’ he said, patting his daughter’s shoulder.

  ‘‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’’ Leah questioned. ‘‘You could hear all the news. There’s been talk that gold has been found on the river here in Dyea. You could find out all about it and maybe we’d not have to go so far north to look for gold.’’

  ‘‘Gold, here?’’

  Grace nodded. ‘‘That’s what’s been rumored. There are probably a dozen or more claims already staked. I haven’t heard much in the way of success stories and certainly no call of a bonanza strike like they have up in the Yukon. Might just be cheechakos. You know how they can be.’’

  ‘‘You’ve picked up the language pretty well for bein’ a cheechako yourself,’’ Bill teased. He liked Grace very much and found her charm and sweetness reminded him of Patience when she had been the same age. The idea of gold in the area intrigued him, and for a moment he thought to abandon his plans. ‘‘So who might know more about the Dyea strike?’’

  Grace grew thoughtful. ‘‘I suppose you should talk to the recording office or the assayer. They’d be able to tell you what kind of color they’re seeing.’’

  Bill nodded. ‘‘I’ll do that. You ladies go ahead to your shopping. I need to see Miss Pierce for a moment, and then I’ll take you up on your advice and head over to the recording office.’’

  ‘‘You won’t leave before we get back, will you?’’ Leah asked hopefully.

  ‘‘Of course not. I’ll stay the night.’’ He said the words as her expression tore at his heart. She trusted him—believed in him. How could he betray her? He watched the trio walk away. They were happy and Leah was healthy and well cared for. That was far better than anything Bill could give her on the Chilkoot Pass.

  ‘‘Mr. Barringer, whatever are you doing standing out here in the cold?’’ Karen Pierce questioned as she stepped outside to throw out a pan of dirty water. ‘‘If you’re hungry we have a pot of beans on the stove. Leah has just gone off with my aunt and Grace.’’

  ‘‘Yes, I saw them,’’ Bill replied. ‘‘And I’d be happy to warm up by the stove and eat. Maybe you could share a bit of conversation with me. We should probably discuss the children.’’

  ‘‘You’re right on that matter. I’ve had some concerns,’’ Karen admitted. She ushered Bill into the tent and followed him back into their private living quarters. ‘‘I’ve been worried about Jacob.’’

  ‘‘Jacob? Why?’’ Bill questioned. He looked around the room as if the boy might suddenly appear.

  ‘‘He’s gone off to help Captain Colton. We’re to move the store into a new building tomorrow.’’

  ‘‘A building will be a wonderful change. Where will it be located?’’

  ‘‘Several blocks north on Main Street. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding us. The captain has arranged a decent-sized building with several big rooms on the back. We’ll be living there and you are welcome to come and stay there as you come back and forth.’’

  ‘‘Well, that’s part of what we need to discuss,’’ Bill began, but Karen quickly continued, giving him little chance to speak.

  ‘‘Jacob has been very troubled over these passing weeks. He has few friends in this town and his heart seems quite burdened by something. He won’t talk on the matter. I’ve tried working with him on studies, but he holds little interest and while he’s good to contribute to our needs by bringing food and sometimes other necessities, he distances himself from all of us, Leah included.’’

  ‘‘He’s a young man in a house full of women,’’ Bill replied. ‘‘I’m sure he’s feeling a bit out of sorts.’’

  ‘‘It’s more than that,’’ Karen admonished. ‘‘He’s often been in fights.’’

  ‘‘It’ll do him good to fight for what he believes. That’s how it is with men.’’

  Karen shook her head. ‘‘He needs a father. As you said, he’s surrounded by women. Perhaps he should join you on the trail.’’

  Bill tensed. ‘‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. The elements are killing people every day. Sometimes from workin’ too hard, sometimes the weather. You know there’ve been floods and mud slides, snow and ice storms. It’s a hard life, and I’d rather not see him exposed to it just yet. I’m sure he’ll adjust to working here with you in time.’’

  ‘‘I disagree. He needs you.’’

  ‘‘I think, Miss Pierce, I’m better able to know what my kids need than you are.’’

  Karen lifted her chin, striking a rather defiant pose. ‘‘I may not have children of my own, but I know children. I nannied Grace for over ten years. I know when something isn’t right and your son is clearly troubled.’’

  Bill knew he would have to explain the situation. ‘‘You have to understand that some things have changed. I’ve been working hard to put together supplies for the journey north, but one man working alone is hardly able to manage very well for himself. The men I’m working with would have little patience for children—that’s why I’ve chosen to keep them here in your care.’’

  ‘‘Your son needs you,’’ Karen reiterated. ‘‘Who else will show him how to be a man?’’

  ‘‘He already knows how to be a man, Miss Pierce. He’s fourteen. He’ll be fifteen next month. My father was already dead by the time I’d reached that age and I grew up just fine.’’

  ‘‘Fine enough that you give little consideration for the needs of your children. You might as well not even come back for all the good you’re doing.’’

  Bill bristled at this. ‘‘I’m not going to stand here and argue,’’ he said, forcing his tone to remain calm. He suddenly felt almost panicked by her reaction. He couldn’t very well tell her of his plans now. Not when she was being so harsh with him in regard to Jacob and Leah. Turning to leave, he stopped and added, ‘‘Jacob will be just fine. He’s going to have times when he fights. It’s the only way he’ll learn.’’

  ‘‘Learn what, Mr. Barringer? How to be as coldhearted and unfeeling as you?’’

  Bill stormed out of the tent, not willing to even answer. He wasn’t coldhearted and unfeeling. If anything, his feelings were eating him alive. Karen Pierce didn’t know what she was talking about.

  Jacob had heard every word spoken between his father and Karen Pierce. He felt horribly guilty for what had transpired between them. After all, they were talking about him. Karen was worried about the fights he’d had—at least the ones she knew about. Trouble was, Jacob found himself so often out of sorts with folks that he was quickly gaining a reputation as being a hoodlum. He felt bad that Karen worried, but he felt worse that his father didn’t. How could he just walk away and not care what those fights were about?

  Jacob felt tears come to his eyes and angrily wiped them away. He wasn’t a baby and he wasn’t going to cry. If his own father didn’t have time or concern for him, then that was just the way it would be. He wasn’t going to shed tears over it, and he sure wasn’t going to let anyone know how much it hurt inside.

  23

  —[ CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ]—


  A SENSATION OF ANXIETY and anticipation washed over Peter as he made his way up from the Skagway docks. Word had come that Summer Song had arrived some hours earlier, as well as news that Martin Paxton had traveled north with the Colton family.

  His family was to have rooms in the upstairs quarters of Martin Paxton’s mercantile. Being one of the few completed wood-framed buildings, Paxton’s store would afford them the best protection from the elements, as well as allow them time to visit with Paxton and make plans for the future.

  To say that news of his father’s friend coming north was disturbing was an understatement Peter didn’t care to explore. He should have been grateful and glad for Paxton’s interest in his family, yet he felt like a jealous sibling. For reasons that were beyond his understanding, Martin Paxton’s arrival was rapidly diminishing the pride Peter felt in having purchased a building for the Colton Trading Post. He had planned to sit down with his father and explain the situation and the expenditures necessary to secure the store in Dyea. He had hoped to receive his father’s blessing and approval for the choices he’d made, and somehow Martin Paxton’s presence robbed Peter of the limelight. Peter knew his father would be focused on the old family friend rather than Peter’s accomplishments, and it made him feel most uncomfortable.

  I have to stop undermining my victories and accomplishments, Peter told himself. I’ve worked hard for this, and the likes of Paxton shouldn’t be the cause of my defeat.

  Acquiring the building had come at no small sacrifice. He’d had to pay a great deal to purchase the building, and along with this, Peter had to pledge shipments of building supplies that he would turn over at cost to the contractor. With the purchase finalized, Peter had sent half a dozen of his best men to help with the move of the store’s goods and had even hired a sign painter to mark the new business properly. He felt good about what he’d accomplished. It had cost him a pretty penny, to be sure, but Grace and her friends, along with the trade goods, would be safe. The expense was worth it. Still, the idea of having to share his news in the presence of a man he had come to feel rather negatively toward left Peter feeling foolish.