They set the tent and Jack loaded his stove with wood to keep them warm at night. The next day they began the descent to Crater Lake. The trail was difficult but at least downhill. It was unfathomable that the distance between the Scales, below the Chilkoot Pass, and Crater Lake was less than five miles. They were well and truly into the mountains now. The wind bit deeper and the snow fell faster. They used Lily’s sled for all the gear, making short trips and shuttling forward, bit by bit. Jack worried every step that they would not reach Lake Bennett in time to make a proper shelter before the real cold hit. It was November already and still they had not reached that last great lake. The nights were twenty hours long now, so they traveled by moonlight and by the shimmering Northern Lights. When they stopped they huddled together, the three of them, dog, man and woman, in their blankets by the fire, and still he never felt warm.
When the cold grew so deep that the coffee froze in his cup before he could drink it, Lily finally convinced him to cache some of his gear so they could move forward. And still it was January before they reached Bennett. This would be the launching point for the boats, because it was the first of the connected lakes that became the Yukon River.
As they descended the final incline, the narrow lake seemed only a bare expanse among the trees, surrounded by an odd assortment of structures, hastily erected and shoddily made. Lily signed on to help a woman run her kitchen, which did a better business feeding men than any other in the vicinity. Instead of pay, she received food and shelter for them both. That freed Jack from having to build a cabin, so he had time to retrieve the remainder of his gear, using Nala and Lily’s sled. On each return trip he found more and more men building their boats on the shore so as to be ready for the break-up when they would sail to Dawson. When, at last he had all his belongings, he turned his attention to constructing their boat.
Jack planned their conveyance carefully, since it had to carry more weight than most. It needed a reinforced hull, which would make it heavy and unwieldy. He took the problem to Lily. She did not understand construction but he trusted her opinion.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to see past the gear piled in the middle.”
“Make it longer, then the gear won’t go as high.”
“I’ve made it the length of the pines here. It will be sturdier that way.”
She nodded at the logic of that and then considered his drawing, pointing to a spot in the bow. “If I stood here, I could see for you.”
“You’d spot for snags and rocks.” He nodded, liking the idea, for it kept him from having to construct a raised steering deck and extending and weakening the rudder. “Yes. That might work.”
They shared a smile, which Lily ended when Jack tried to stroke her cheek.
“Off to work with you. You can’t build a boat while standing in my kitchen.”
He spent the next hour looking through his gear for his whipsaw and tools, finally returning to Lily.
“I think they’ve been stolen.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m a better watchdog than all that.” She paused, coffeepot in hand on her way past a long table of seated men. “I rented the saw to George Murphy and his brother, Tim. Larry Kristen has your hammer, but no nails. Those he has to buy elsewhere. Martin—”
“You rented my tools?”
“Well, you didn’t need them to haul freight. Now that you’re back, I’ll only rent them at night, or would you prefer to work nights? I can get more for them in the day.” Lily must have read the answer in his darkening expression for she lifted a hand. “Days then. The sun is only up for two hours a day.” Jack grumbled. “I’ll see you have them all tomorrow, first thing.”
She headed toward the kitchen and he stormed behind her, frustration boiling over. Why must he stand in line to use his own tools?
“You had no right to rent what is mine.”
That stopped her in her tracks. She thumped down the heavy pot on the sideboard and pressed her fists deep into the folds of her skirt.
“And whose dog and sled are you using?”
Jack ground his teeth together at her point. The fact that her point made perfect sense only annoyed him further.
“Lily, you said we’re partners and we share what’s ours.”
She nodded, but her expression remained uncertain. “That’s so. You shared my sled. I shared your tools.”
Jack scowled, finding no ready answer to this and wondering why her logic made him even madder than before.
“We’ve a need for money to buy the fittings and hardware for the boat,” she said.
That was also true, and he should have accepted her reasoning, but he found it did nothing to assuage his annoyance. It seemed he couldn’t be near her at all lately without picking a fight and most of those fights made no earthly sense afterward.
And then it struck him. He wasn’t here about the tools or hardware. His heart was not pumping and his skin was not flushed out of ire. He came back again and again to fight, because this was as close as he could come to satisfying the emotions she stirred in him. He was here looking for a fight when what he really wanted, what he really needed was—Lily.
He took her by the shoulders. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she recognized what he was about to do an instant too late. This time he wouldn’t let her slip away. This time he’d have what he came for.
Jack drew her in, slanting his mouth across hers, taking possession of her. She stiffened at the contact and then threw her arms about his neck, pressing her body tight to his.
Finally, Lily was in his arms.
Chapter Seven
Her fingers tugged in Jack’s hair, demanding more as he met her soft lips. The desire he had smothered each day and every night now roared within him. He pressed down hard, feeling the heavenly softness of her lips crushed against his. He opened his mouth, silently demanding she do the same. Her lips parted and he thrust inside, savoring her wanton little moan and the slick, silken texture of her mouth. Her tongue danced with his as he cradled her against his body, pressing her back. At last, he supported her weight and still she clung to him with all the fierceness of a tigress. He’d known she would be just this way and the proof fired his blood and aroused his fantasies. Lily’s surrender held the sweetness of honey and the heat of a branding iron. No matter how closely he held her it was not enough.
Somehow, he had surmounted her barricades and he basked in the delight of her soft body, full breasts and thrilling little cries of excitement. He laid her across his arm, wishing he were alone so he could take off her top and cup her lovely full breasts in his hands. How many times had he imagined holding her like this— And here was a battle he could win, a battle that made sense, perfect sense.
She’d let him. Her kiss left no doubt. He could do all the things he’d imagined as he lay beside her night after night on the frozen ground. He’d never wanted anything so much as he wanted Lily. Why hadn’t he done this weeks ago instead of bickering about this or that?
Lily’s hands were tugging at his shirttails. A moment later she had them up and out of his trousers, her fingernails raking over his skin, arousing him to madness. He eyed the table behind them and draped her half across it.
A pot clattered to the floor and Lily startled, then stiffened in his arms. An instant later she turned her head away, depriving him of her full mouth as she pushed against his shoulders.
“Let me up, Jack.”
Somehow he’d taken her to the table beside the kitchen stove, where her employer, Sasha Cowdan, now stood staring at the two of them tangled together like newlyweds.
Lily slipped from his arms and tugged at her blouse, her face flaming with embarrassment. Jack tucked in his shirt.
What the devil had gotten into him? He’d just wanted to speak to her about his tools. No. If he were honest, he’d admit he’d come for this, had wanted it since that day in her tent when she’d stroked his bare chest. And he would keep coming back for this as long as she’d let him. Lily was like
a hunger now, something he could not control with his mind. He needed her body, her mouth, her throat.
And she needed him, too. Her kiss told him that. No wonder she’d held him off all these days and weeks. It wasn’t to protect herself from his unwelcome advances. It was to keep him from learning they were wanted.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Sasha.
He wasn’t. He’d never be sorry for something that perfect. Why hadn’t Nancy ever kissed him like that? Why hadn’t she held him as if she were drowning and only he could save her?
Lily elbowed him and then cast her gaze from him to Sasha. Jack had forgotten the woman was there again. He couldn’t seem to see anyone or anything but Lily.
She glanced at Sasha. “He’s sorry, too.”
But he wasn’t. He’d do it again when he had the chance, was already planning their next encounter. Somewhere private—their boat! Yes, he’d have her alone then under the stars with the northern skies glowing with their shimmering light.
“Jack. I don’t know what got into you,” said Lily, trying and failing in pulling off the rebuke.
Into us, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t seem to speak as he stared into her blue eyes. Her lips were swollen. His mouth twitched in a satisfied smile. He’d done that to her. His kisses made her cheeks and neck flush a tempting pink and her lips full with wanting.
She placed a hand on her bodice, which was rising and falling in a manner that made him take another step toward her.
But she turned away, helping Sasha mop up the hot water which now steamed from the floorboards.
“Out of my kitchen, Jack Snow,” said Sasha.
“Tools,” he said to Lily.
“Tomorrow,” she said without looking up.
“You’ll bring them?” he asked.
She hesitated, biting her lower lip between sharp white teeth. How he wanted those strong teeth to score his skin as she raked her nails over his back again.
He waited, taking in the worry in her eyes. She should be worried, very worried. She had been wise to hold him off, had somehow succeeded. But now he knew her secret.
She wanted him, too.
“Well?” he asked.
“Yes, yes. Now go.”
His smile held the sweetness of victory. She could come to him and he’d be waiting for Lily to forget her resistance and again give him the sweetness of her kiss.
He left them, wondering why he had ever thought he wanted a sweet, compliant woman when he could have wildfire. As he walked out into the night to cool his skin, he compared her to every woman he’d ever met and found each one lacking. Lily, despite her best efforts, had roused him to near madness with just a kiss. Why were all the women back there as pale and meaningless as their poorly painted watercolors and self-indulgent poetry? Not one could do a blessed thing except order servants about and primp. None of them could have walked all the way from Dyea.
He scowled up at the sky, wondering what it would feel like, for once in his life, to take what he wanted instead of doing what was expected of him?
Lily rose even earlier than was her custom to track down Jack’s tools. She hoped to have them gathered and returned to his boat before he even rose from his bed on the opposite side of the large dining room.
Nala stood when Lily left her bedding and stretched, nose down, back arched and then shook as her mistress rolled her thin pallet and blankets. Her hound walked silently behind her as she slipped out into the dark predawn. The sun had begun to rise again, peeking up above the mountains with a dim, joyless light that never seemed to penetrate the clouds before falling back below the horizon for eighteen hours at a stretch. Lily covered her face against the cold and slid her hands out of her gloves so she could maneuver her sled behind the dog. She hung the lantern first and then gathered the leather straps.
Her dog stood still as Lily strapped her into her harness and then mounted the sled. Nala began to yip and bark in excitement as she bounced straight up and down in her harness traces waiting for Lily to draw on her gloves. The instant she had her feet secure upon the boards and gripped the drive bow, Nala was off, bounding on the fresh snow and breaking a trail with her massive chest. Lily laughed in delight as the wind burned her cheeks. The cold made her eyeballs ache, but she didn’t care. She loved the thrill of dog-sledding. It seemed the perfect mix of exhilaration and beauty. In a few minutes they were away from the half-buried buildings and flying over the frozen lake. Here the wind had scoured much of the snow away, making it ideal for Nala to run with all she had. They traveled in a magic golden circle of light, provided by the lantern. The only sound was the slide of the runners as they scraped over the granular snow. Lily made a circuitous route to the camps of the men who used Jack’s tools, stopping to gather them like fallen apples from the half-finished boats that lined the shore. The whipsaw was last and with that aboard she turned toward home. Nala now settled into a tireless trot that Lily knew she could maintain for hours.
As she left the lake, and slipped between the tall silent sentinels of trees, Lily marveled at how the snow crystals shimmered on the dark trunks of the evergreens and how the snow-laden branches dipped to brush the ground. She spied Jack’s building site and smiled. When he rose the tools would be here waiting and best of all, she would not have to face him. For the only thing more exhilarating than riding her empty sled was kissing Jack Snow.
Something moved beside the boat. Lily pulled on the brake and called for Nala to halt. A man stepped into the circle of light. Jack, she realized.
Her heartbeat tripled as she stared at him, tall and handsome. He placed a gloved hand on the upturned boat and brushed off the snow.
Lily lowered her muffler and tried to speak, but her voice was breathless, as if she had been pulling the sled.
“You’re up early.”
His grin was charming, but the twinkle in his eye spoke of mischief.
“Following you.”
“I have your tools.”
Jack unloaded them. “Ride me back for breakfast?”
She hesitated. To say no would be rude, for he’d have to wade through the snow to return to the hotel. But to say yes was to allow him to stand behind her on the foot boards, his big body pressed close behind hers.
She didn’t remember nodding yes, but a moment later he was there, encircling her, his arms reaching around her to grip the drive bow. She lifted the reins and Nala glanced back.
“Ya!” said Lily and they were off.
Jack laughed, echoing her excitement in the joyful sound. After a moment she steered them away from the hotel and out onto the lake, wanting Jack to feel the thrill of riding with Nala running full-tilt.
Her dog hit the lake at a run and they whizzed along, Jack gripping the bow as she leaned back against him.
He called her name and she turned her head, tilting it back to look at him as they raced over the frozen lake. But he didn’t speak again, only moved forward to kiss her.
His mouth was hot and cold all at once and his tongue slipped along her mouth. She felt a moment’s resistance, but she could not hold on. The world was flying by too fast and Jack was holding on too tight. Lily surrendered to the thrill of the ride and the kiss and the man who had found her weakness in him.
In a moment he broke free and howled like a wolf to the dark sky. Lily laughed and turned them back for home. Nala slowed to a trot as they hit the deeper snow and brought them safely to the hotel.
“I’ll never forget that ride if I live to be a hundred,” said Jack.
Lily smiled, wondering if her mother would be proud of her. Was this the adventure her mother had intended? Had she known what would happen by releasing Lily into the world? It was such a marvel, this territory, and she now felt it flowing in her blood, becoming a part of her.
Jack stepped down and then turned to kiss her again. But Lily was ready this time.
“Ya!” she said, sliding away from him as Nala trotted toward the kitchen, where Lily stored her sled.
&n
bsp; “You can’t run forever,” he called.
Perhaps not, she thought. But she sure could try.
Over the next several weeks Lily avoided him when possible as he worked tirelessly on their flat-bottomed boat. She had a knack for visiting only when the lakeshore was filled with other builders and by being on the far side of the room when they lay down to sleep.
He cautioned himself to patience. The break-up was coming—not just for the lakes, but for them, and with it, his opportunity to have Lily alone.
He built his craft on the shore, electing not to set it up on the ice as many others did for he feared the break-up’s power and unpredictability. No one could say exactly when the ice in Lake Bennett would fail, but Jack expected it would be awe-inspiring. When he could not work for exhaustion, he gathered with other men to share what they knew of the river. He borrowed a tattered copy of the December fifteenth edition of the Dawson City News, now four months old. Jack had read the passage concerning White Horse Rapids often and knew it by heart.
The rapids are a half mile long and dangerous. A reef of rock juts from the left shore as the river narrows and the water boils with waves running five feet in height. Here a long boat comes in handy as a short one falls mercy to the waves. The landing is to the left beyond the reef and to the right lie the graves of those who drowned in their attempt.
He had not shown Lily the article, for he saw no need to have a hysterical woman on his hands, but he did bring her to see his completed boat. She surveyed his work with a critical eye.
“You’ve doubled the planking on the bottom,” she noted.
“To strengthen the hull,” he said, noticing how her dark hair shone in the light.
“Then why not the front?”
“It’s called the bow.”
He tried for her hand and she stepped around the boat on the pretence of inspecting his handiwork, but actually putting the hull between them. He smiled. Run, but you can’t hide.
Jenna Kernan Page 7
