“Well, yeah, but…”
“But what?” she asked, daring him to say another word.
He rubbed the toe of his boot in the mud. “It’s different.”
She laughed. “Get your mind out of the gutter, boys.” She aimed her finger at them. “All of you. The only female Jack will be sleeping with tonight is Nala.”
Jack pressed his lips together as the others laughed. With that she sniffed and disappeared into the tent after her hound. Jack suddenly worried over his bedding and the muddy dog that preceded him into the tent. He hurried to follow.
Just as he feared, Nala had dragged his bedroll into a nice muddy mess on which she was now curled. Lily ordered her dog up and handed Jack his bedding, now streaked with dirt.
“Don’t worry. If you plan on being a miner, everything you own will soon look like this.”
Jack accepted the grimy blankets with dismay that lasted only until Lily’s next words.
“Let’s get some sleep.”
Jack stood as if petrified as she sat on her cot and removed her boots with a button hook, carefully placing the worn leather beneath her bed. Then she peeled out of her coat, revealing a neat blue woolen bodice and matching skirt.
She began to brush the mud off her coat.
“Do you have a sweetheart, Mr. Snow?”
He thought he’d prefer jumping back in the icy inlet waters than tell her about his former fiancée, Nancy Tinsen.
“Never stayed with one long enough to call her that.”
Lily pulled a face, and then unbuttoned her bodice. She stopped when the garment gapped, revealing the fine, soft swell of her breasts above the corset that cinched her in the middle.
“Here is what will happen. You’ll excuse yourself and go for a walk. When you come back the lamp will be out and I’ll be in bed. If you try to crawl under my blankets, I’ll use my pistol.”
“What if you try to crawl under mine?”
That stopped her. She gaped a moment and then laughed. “Well now, then I suppose you have your choice to throw me out or keep me.”
“I’d keep you.” He held her long stare. She looked away first.
Her voice seemed breathless when she next spoke. “I can’t see that happening.”
Now it was his turn to smile. “Can’t you?”
He was gratified to see her flush. So he hadn’t imagined the pull between them. He didn’t want a full-time woman, not when he was still bruised and battered from his failed engagement. But he wasn’t beyond taking what a woman offered.
“You can take that walk now.”
Jack lifted the flap but she called him back.
“And Jack?”
He turned, thinking her beautiful in the lamplight.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for tonight.”
He pinned her with a steady stare. “What are partners for.”
Then he left her, before the temptation to stay caused him to do something he’d regret. He paused beyond the tent, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He could scarcely make out the dark silhouette of the figure across the road.
“Toss you out already?” he asked.
Jack could see little beyond the glowing tip of a cigarette, but he made his way over.
“So it seems.” He walked to the man who offered his tobacco pouch. “No, thanks.”
The man took another puff. “Thing about canvas is that voices carry. I guess folks know just about everything about their neighbors here, ’cept they aren’t neighbors, since folks come and go by the minute. Nobody really cares for anyone but themselves—and their partners, of course. The rest is all entertainment.”
“Why you telling me this?”
“Just to thank you for livening up this little corner of the swamp. I’m George Suffern.”
Jack shook his hand.
“When you two pushing up the Chilkoot?”
“Sooner is better,” said Jack.
“I suppose. The steamers will keep coming until the passages freeze. Father Winter hits early in the mountains. Maybe best to stay down here, then head up come spring.”
Jack sat on the crate beside him. “No, you’re wrong. Best to get up to Lake Bennett and spend the winter building your boat. Then you’ll be in position when the ice break-up comes. From there it’s all downhill to Dawson.”
“Through rapids and lakes filled with more mosquito larva than fish.”
Jack laughed. “That’s why it’s an adventure. A test of a man’s metal.”
“And what about Lily? She’s your partner now, so it’s your lookout to see she gets to Dawson. Big responsibility. I reckon that’ll test your metal more than the Golden Stairs or the White Horse Rapids.”
Jack winced as he chafed against their bargain. If he were a different kind of man he’d leave her behind and never look back. But, unlike his father, Jack valued his word and kept his promises. So he would attend to his responsibilities, but it annoyed him that he’d somehow fallen into the worst of all situations, giving him all of the responsibilities of keeping a woman with none of the benefits.
He glanced at the tent in time to see the light extinguish. Lily was now climbing into her narrow bed alone—such a shame. Jack stood, drawn by the perfect image of Lily’s fine luminous skin glowing in the moonlight. His throat went dry as he took a step.
George cleared his throat, making Jack recall his presence.
He stopped and gave the man his attention. He didn’t like the man’s mocking smile.
“My daddy used to say that you should never tie an eagle to a plow horse, because the arrangement won’t be good for either of them. I’m afraid, son, you’ve got yourself in just such a situation.”
Jack wondered if he were the eagle or the horse. But he’d heard enough lectures about the folly of this venture from his mother who had advised he stay put, lower his expectations in the marriage market and seek a bride outside their former circles. It might still come to that, but first he would try and be his own man. Jack thought his mother might even admire his wish to restore them to their rightful place, if she could only see past her fears of losing him forever. He knew the risks here. The dangers were real, but they were real back there. What hope did he have, cloaked in scandal, flat broke, with no degree and no prospects? Save the one his mother had found him. He cringed. Here, at least, he stood a chance to be his own man instead of having to marry a woman he did not even know. But if he failed he might be forced to that to provide for his mother and sister. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
I’m sorry, Mother, I’ve got to try, he thought, placing a hand over his heart and her telegram that had found him in Seattle.
His greatest fear was dying up here and leaving his mother and younger sister dependent on the charity of his aunt and uncle.
“You two sure are a mismatched team.” George blew a smoke ring. “Maybe you should…she told me that before this she’d never been more than five blocks in any direction. Don’t think she’s prepared for this, though she knows her own mind, I suppose.”
Jack felt a chill run down his back at the realization that Lily knew nothing of the dangers of this wild place. She’d shown tonight how ill-equipped she was, nearly losing her dog to ruffians. Somehow he’d been taken in by her bravado, but now it suddenly became clear that his job would involve more than carrying her to Dawson. He’d have to defend her from other men as well. Could he do it? He had to.
Jack lifted his collar but felt no warmer as he realized he was not the eagle, but the workhorse.
“’Night,” he said to George.
“See you in the morning.”
Jack returned to the tent, but Lily said nothing as he slipped inside. He found Nala on his bed again and began a wrestling match that ended in a draw, with him under his blankets and the big dog stretched out beside him, half under Lily’s cot. The rest of the night involved Nala’s steady encroachment onto his territory with the relentlessness of any claim jumper. Even sleeping on the deck of
the steamer had been more restful than this.
Small wonder he did not hear Lily rise, but came awake to the sound of many male voices and Lily’s clear soprano piping above the rest.
“Seconds are a nickel more.”
Jack opened his eyes and glanced about the empty tent. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee brought him to a sitting position and the mouthwatering fragrance of biscuits had him into his boots and out the tent flap.
There stood Lily behind a plank table which held a giant cast-iron griddle filled with fluffy brown biscuits. Beside that sat the coffeepot that looked as if it had been kicked down a long and rocky slope.
“Oh, there you are at last. Mind the table while I check the next batch. It’s fifteen cents for black coffee and one biscuit. No seconds on the coffee.”
With that she left him to the line of men holding empty cups and bandannas. Jack burned his fingers trying to lift out one of the golden cakes and thereafter used the spatula. He’d only two left when she reappeared with a square bake tin filled with a new supply.
“I’ve never seen a more industrious individual in my life,” he said.
She smiled at him and then went back to pouring coffee while he stayed staring after her. He’d never met a woman like her. She was a dynamo of activity. Had it been only yesterday he had judged her worthless as a partner? It was obvious now that Lily was more than she appeared.
Chapter Five
Jack noticed that some of the men brought her a half cup of coffee beans instead of cash, which she collected in a bag on the table. The coins went into a small can. Nala spent her time scouring the ground for any crumbs left by the hungry stampeders. When the second pan was empty she called to the men still waiting in line.
“That’s the lot, gents.”
A groan rose from the line, but they shuffled off.
Lily collected her pot, can and tins. “The board and crates go just there.”
Jack disassembled the makeshift table and followed her inside where Lily divided the remaining dough and greased the pan. She cooked two lovely fat biscuits, offering Jack one. They drank the remains of the coffee black and strong.
Nala sat without begging, which surprised Jack.
“Doesn’t she like biscuits?” he asked.
“I give her all she can eat, once a day.”
“What about table scraps?”
She leveled him with a cool eye that made him pause to wonder what he had said to earn such a look.
“There aren’t any.” As if to prove her point, Lily used her index finger to retrieve all the crumbs from her plate. “I’ve got to go down to collect fares from the arriving ships and you can help me today. Tonight we’ll buy whatever we don’t have and set off tomorrow.”
“What about my gear?”
“Did you meet George?”
Jack nodded.
“I’ll pay him to watch the place. He’ll be happy to have a job that requires only sitting and smoking.”
They were down at the beach a few minutes later. It was a long day, helping men collect their goods and carrying them to the hotel. Lily used Jack like a second pack animal, but he didn’t mind, because the labor kept him from dwelling on the past.
As they took the last man up the hill, Jack caught Lily staring speculatively at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Never expected you to last ’til noon.”
It amused him that as he was judging her, she had been judging him and finding him lacking. Had he improved her opinion of dandies?
“Were you? It’s hard not to judge on what you see,” he said, thinking of himself more than her.
She nodded her agreement at that. “It’s a rare man willing to do a full day’s work. That’s why most of them will fail. They’re better at spending money than making it.”
“Perhaps I’m the exception.”
She grinned and nodded. “I hope so.”
That evening they purchased the foodstuffs they needed and Lily collected her sled. The tent, clothing, snowshoes and food all fitted nicely. His tools and equipment did not. That left over seven hundred pounds. Lily tried several times to get him to leave the “uselessness” behind, but failing that, she rented a pushcart that he could use to the base of the Chilkoot. From there he would have to tote his belongings. Lily sold her tent and contents to George Suffern who had sold his lot to a new arrival, and all was ready for their departure.
Jack slept better the second night, his day’s labors gracing him with a weariness that kept him from both restlessness and dreaming.
Nala woke Jack by stepping on his face and he sat up in time to see Lily’s lovely pale shoulders disappear beneath her shirt. It was a sight he wouldn’t mind seeing each morning. He whistled a tune and rolled his bedding.
“You’re in a fine mood today,” she said, turning toward him as she fastened the last button and drew on her coat.
“Departure day,” he said. “Just happy to be on our way.”
She lifted her eyebrows as if she were not entirely convinced that this accounted for his gaiety. “They say a light heart makes for an easy journey.”
The smile faded from his face. A light heart? His was still heavy with guilt and anger and confusion. Why had his father done it?
“What is it, Jack?”
He shook his head and gave her his back, packing up the last of his gear.
They ate cold biscuits and headed out before dawn, joining the others who set their feet upon the same trail.
Lily seemed in high spirits as she steered Nala through the mud, anxious to get out of town and onto the properly snow-covered ground so the sled would glide. But, though the ground was frozen, the march of many feet kept the ice from the trail. Lily worried aloud about the runners scraping over the rock, but there was nothing to be done about it. Five miles up they reached the first ford on the swift, shallow Dyea River. Lily refused to use the precarious jumble of driftwood and logs, not so much for the shoddy construction, but because the builder, named Finnegan, demanded a toll.
“We’ve been together three days and I’ve yet to see you spend a dime,” said Jack.
“Nor will you until we reach the pass. We’ll need all I’ve made when we get there and at the lakes for boat-building.”
“That’s true.” Jack had exhausted most of his money on the journey and on his gear.
“I’ve been collecting coffee beans for months so I could sell coffee on the way. I figure the snow and the timber for fires if free.” Lily looked uncertain now, hesitant. “Would you like me to help haul our gear across, or will I set a fire and sell coffee to passersby?”
He doubted she could sell much. Men were anxious to be on their way and still fresh from town, but he didn’t say anything that might hurt her feelings. Plus, he thought she’d be more hindrance than help, so he set her off to the opposite side to set up her stand, leaving himself to the important work. He spent the next three hours towing their gear over, one load at a time.
Lily built a little fire and brewed coffee and cooked beans, which she sold for two bits a plate to the passing greenhorns, doing a brisk business. She brought him a portion and he ate it so fast he nearly choked.
“I didn’t think I was hungry.”
She retrieved her plate and patted his cheek before turning back to her fire. When he finished the last load, she scattered the burning logs and they ate what was left of the beans.
The trail up the opposite side of the creek was easy, with only a gentle slope. It did, however, reveal glimpses of the looming range they must breach to attain the interior.
Nala pulled the sled effortlessly, while Jack struggled with the cart as the wheels continually bogged in the soft spots on the trail.
“Someone should throw some gravel in this patch,” he grumbled.
Lily laughed. “Are you going to stay behind and fix the road?”
He shook his head.
“Nor is any man, for it would only make it easier for the next. It’s a r
ace, don’t you know?”
Jack realized she was correct. He was no longer in the theoretical world of textbooks and hypotheses. He was not about to build a model; everything hung on his ability to bring his materials to the gold and put his invention to use. Lily was right. The swiftest would have the best claims. There would be no prize for those who came too late. He knew his history and bore no illusions. The best ground would have been taken before news reached the outside, just like in California. Thank goodness his machine did not depend on his securing a virgin claim, for he did not plan to surface-mine, but instead to tunnel into the frozen earth. If it worked as he intended.
For a time he walked silently, carrying his hopes and doubts. The trail grew far worse, cutting through spruce, hemlock and cottonwood. The narrow path became a tangle of roots, laid bare as skeletal arms by the army of marching feet.
They reached a stretch where Nala could not pull the sled and Jack’s cart became more a hindrance than a help.
So he called a halt. “This is the easy part of the trail?”
Lily said nothing to this, her breath coming in streams of condensation in the cold air.
“We have to portage this part,” he reasoned.
She nodded.
He made the first trip carrying what he estimated to be over a hundred pounds. Nala carried loads of thirty. They inched along, cutting back, retrieving goods, carrying them only as far as they could see the trail. And all the while men streamed past them, making a similar relay. Lily was happy to reach the river once more, where the cart again rolled on the coarse gravel that wound around the enormous boulders.
Glaciers, he realized. Only a massive moving mountain of ice could have set such huge rocks here.
They crossed the river twice more before reaching Pleasant Camp at sunset. Jack’s shirt was soaked with sweat and both he and Lily had wet feet. Even Nala groaned as she settled at her mistress’s side.
The camp was only a grove of a few trees and moss perched on the rocky ground, giving them a place to throw a rope between two spruce trees and hang a bit of canvas. Lily gathered wood and began a fire as Jack reordered their gear.
Jenna Kernan Page 5
