The Fur Trader's Daughter: Rendezvous (Destiny's Daughters Book 3)

by Colleen French

  Gabrielle's tongue met with his in a sweet dance of love as she molded her body to his, threading her fingers through his thick hair. She wouldn't let herself think about the future, about him leaving her; all she would think about was now, here. It was all that mattered. Just a few brief months of bliss, she had decided, and then she could live out the rest of her life on memories. "Tell me you love me, Alex," she whispered in his ear.

  "I love you, Gabrielle." He ran his fingers through her chestnut curls, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now tell me honestly," he said, his blue eyes somber. "I've not heard the same words from you. It doesn't matter if you don't; it couldn't stop my feeling for you if you didn't, but . . ." His voice was soft and lilting, with an edge of trepidation.

  Gabrielle smiled, brushing her fingers over his full lips. "I've not said it because I was afraid . . . because I don't want to. But yes, Jefferson Alexander the fourth, I love you, like I never thought I'd love anyone." She brushed her palm against his cheek, embedding the image of his handsome face in her mind forever. "Little good it will do me . . ."

  Alex studied her dark eyes, his hands resting comfortably on her waist. "Don't be so pessimistic. Life's full of surprises."

  "Don't try to fool yourself," she told him in a hushed voice. "In the spring you have to leave. There's all that gold just waiting upriver for you." She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  "I've got my daughter, my family, and you've got your dogs and that silly road to build through this wilderness," he countered. Sometime in the past two days when they had laid in each other's arms, she had told him about the road she would someday build with her profits from the trading post. It would be a road that would join her and her friends and make passage possible even in mid-winter.

  "We could never stay together," she forced. There was a tightness in her throat. Her head knew the words rang true, but her heart cried out with pain.

  His voice was equally careworn. "It was never meant to be." As he spoke he tried to convince himself of the truth of what he said, but deep inside he ached for what would never be.

  A tense silence strung between them, and then Gabrielle lowered her head to his shoulder, tightening her arms around his neck. "But let's not think about it now, Alex. Let's just be happy with what we have, all right?"

  He stroked her back through the soft lamb's wool, enjoying the feel of her fingers at the nape of his neck. "All right, Gabrielle, it's a deal. We live for today, for the winter, and then like you said, I'll go."

  She blinked back the moisture behind her eyelids, releasing him. "It's a deal." She kissed him lightly to seal the pact and walked away, afraid he would see the tears in her eyes. She didn't want him to think she expected him to stay. Of course she didn't, but deep within herself, she wished just for a moment that it was possible.

  "Now let's get these dogs out of here and have some breakfast." He changed the subject with ease, refusing to let her know how difficult it had been for him to agree there could be nothing between them. There's no possible way it could ever work, he told himself as he swung open the cabin door and began to usher out the dogs one at a time. "Come on, here dogs . . . come on, out."

  "Get Tristan out and the rest will follow," Gabrielle offered, putting water on for coffee.

  "Tristan, come on boy, out." Alex clapped his hands, and the lead dog came bounding across the room and ducked out the door. Just as Gabrielle had said, the others followed one by one.

  "You feed them, Alex, and I'll make breakfast."

  "I don't know if I can stand your flapjacks again." He reached for his parka. "What do I feed them?"

  "Take that tin of dried fish; each dog gets a scoop. Then use another scoop of frozen moose bits from the large can outside. There'll be no time for a hot meal for them today if we're going to get that moose home before nightfall."

  Alex buttoned up his parka and went out the door with a wave, Leopold following behind him.

  "Looks like you made a friend," she called after him.

  "Looks like I have!" He gave the spotted husky a pat on the head, closing the door behind him.

  Gabrielle sighed, watching the door swing shut. If only I could freeze time until it stood as still as the river, she thought . . . let the winter never end. She reached for her skillet and slid it onto the stove. I'd be happy to live right here with him forever, no gold, no Richmond or family back home, no Lucas Taylor and no stinking map. But such thoughts were only childishness. She couldn't freeze time, and the sooner she realized that, the better. Alex was leaving in the spring; she was staying, and that was the way things were. It was just like Rouge had always said: "Life's not supposed to be fair."

  After breakfast Gabrielle and Alex hitched the dogs to two sleds and mushed up river to where they had camped a few nights before. They cut down the moose from the tree and dressed it as best they could in its frozen state and hauled it home.

  Once Alex received instruction from Gabrielle on dogsledding, he caught on easily, taking pride in what she taught him. He found he liked the sound of the dogs barking and the whoosh of the snow beneath the steel runners. He liked the feel of the biting wind in his face and the sled handles in his hands. A born musher, Gabrielle called him. He had laughed at the time but couldn't help wondering if this was where he belonged.

  The two arrived home before dark and had the dogs cared for and meat put away by night fall. "Let's make an early night of it, shall we?" Alex asked. "We haven't tried out that bed yet."

  Gabrielle laughed, helping him pull his parka over his splinted arm. She was pleased to see that the bone was healing nicely and that there'd be no permanent disability. "A little early to go to sleep isn't it?"

  "Who said anything about sleep?" He lifted a dark eyebrow suggestively.

  Gabrielle swung his parka at him, hitting him across the middle with it. "Don't you think of anything else?" She sat down on the chair to pull off her boots.

  "Do you?" He dropped both of their parkas on pegs on the wall and picked up the half-thawed moose steak he'd brought in with him.

  "Just make the supper, mister, and keep your comments to yourself."

  Alex crossed the room to the stove and threw on another log. "How about a bath while we wait?" he suggested.

  "We?" Her dark brows crinkled in confusion.

  "Sure, why not? You know . . . you scrub my back and I'll scrub yours. . . ."

  "Do people do that?"

  "You're such an innocent, Gabrielle. Of course people do. Want to try it?" He dropped the meat on the frying pan to thaw on the stove. "I could pull the tub over in front of the fireplace."

  Gabrielle wrapped her arms around her waist. "I don't know . . ."

  "Oh, come on! Where's you sense of adventure? If you can wander all over this territory with those dogs and that Colt strapped to your thigh like some gunslinger, you can certainly take a bath with your lover."

  "My lover?" She smiled. "Is that what you are? I like the sound of that word on my tongue."

  Alex took her in his arms. "And I like the taste of you on my tongue." He brushed his lips against hers, his tongue darting out to tease her lower lip. "Now start bringing in the snow. I'll get the water boiling on the stove. We're going to have a bath."

  In half an hour's time, Alex had the fire in the fireplace blazing and the tub filled with steaming water. He shucked off his clothes and got in first, allowing the relaxing water to seep over him. "Come on, Gabrielle." He put out his arms for her. "Come sit here in my lap."

  Her cheeks blushed rosy as she clutched a couple of cotton towels. "It seems so personal, bathing with someone, Alex." She watched him drip water from a sponge over his well-rounded shoulders.

  "And you think what we do on that bearskin isn't personal?" His laughter echoed in the shadowy cabin. "Oh, come on, sweet!"

  Hesitantly, Gabrielle stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a pile beside Alex's. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the tub, sinking in between his legs.

&nb
sp; "Mmmmm, now doesn't that feel nice?" Water overflowed from the tub as he wrapped his arms around her bare breasts, holding her against him.

  Gabrielle's eyes drifted shut as she relaxed against him in the hot bath. The heat of the water seeped into her bones until she felt like she was drifting in some tropical ocean. "You're right, it's wonderful."

  Alex nibbled at her neck, sending tremors of delicious sensation through her body, and she dropped her hand to his outer thighs, massaging the taut muscles. His thumb brushed against one pink nipple, teasing it to a ripe peak, and Gabrielle moaned softly, guiding his hand with her own to the other breast.

  The two were so caught up with each other that they didn't hear the click of the latch. As the door swung open, they both turned to see Jack coming in the door.

  "Oh my God," Gabrielle moaned. Mortified, she slipped beneath the surface of the water, hoping she'd have the nerve to drown herself.

  Alex burst into laughter, looking from Jack to the bubbles surfacing in the tub. "Looks like you've caught us in an awkward moment," he managed, pulling Gabrielle up by the shoulders.

  Gabrielle sputtered and coughed, covering her bare breast with her crossed arms. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

  "Come to visit you folks." The dark-skinned native bit back a grin, but his amusement was plain in his voice.

  Alex came out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his middle and then held out one for Gabrielle. He was still laughing as he covered her dripping form with the towel and lifted her out of the tub. "Have a seat, Jack. We'll be with you in a moment."

  Jack sat down at the table and extracted a half-smoked cigar from his pocket. "That moose I smell cooking?"

  Gabrielle let out an exasperated sigh. "For God sakes, Jack. The least you could do was look away!"

  Her old friend lifted a sooty eyebrow. "Does this mean I'm going to have to take to knocking before I come in?"

  Alex tugged his tweed pants over his wet skin. "It means we're going to start sliding that bolt. I never even heard the dogs bark."

  Jack shook his head. "They don't bark, know me too well. They lift an ear, hear it's my footsteps and burrow deeper in their snowbank."

  Gabrielle stood listening to the men's relaxed conversation, her anger at both of them rising with each moment. There wasn't even a place she could dress in privacy in the cabin, and she certainly couldn't step outside!

  Sensing her dilemma, Alex handed her her clothes and held up the towel to shield her. "Get dressed, and then we'll have something to eat."

  Gabrielle forced her damp limbs into the clothes, still too embarrassed to speak. Finally dressed, she yanked the towel from Alex's hand. "You needn't look so smug!" she snapped. Strutting across the room, she tossed the towel on a chair and got down on her hands and knees. Climbing halfway under the bed, she came out with a full quart of good Irish whiskey. "I don't know about you two, but I need a drink!"

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex threw back his head in laughter, his deep tenor voice echoing his masculinity in the small, cramped cabin.

  Gabrielle looked up at him sharply. "I guess that means you'll not be having any." She got up off the floor, brandishing the sealed bottle of whiskey.

  Alex stuffed his fists in the sleeves of a dark, grey corduroy shirt, covering his bare torso. He tried to wipe the grin from his face as Gabrielle glared at him, unamused. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle. But you have to admit, all of it is rather funny."

  "I'm not laughing," she told him dryly, rummaging through a wooden crate she kept her dishes in. Extracting three dusty glasses wrapped in faded newspaper, she looked over at Jack. "You staying for supper?"

  A smile twitched on Jack's face. "Guess I am, Gabe."

  She unwrapped the glasses one at a time and dropped them carefully into a dishpan of water that sat on the sideboard near the stove. "I suppose you'll be wanting some of Papa's whiskey, too."

  "Suppose I will."

  Alex chuckled, his back to Gabrielle as he stabbed at the piece of moose meat frying in the pan with a long fork. "Didn't I see some potatoes in one of those boxes over there?" He motioned in the direction of the supply crates piled ceiling-high on the far side of the room.

  "You did," Gabrielle answered.

  Alex spun around, resting his hands on her hips. She tried to push him away, but he was insistent. "Then why not dig a few out, sweet, and I'll fry them up, too?" His blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

  "Alex," she whispered between clenched teeth. "Let go of me."

  "Why?" he asked. "Jack's already seen the worst of us . . . or maybe it was the best of us." He broke into a wide grin.

  Gabrielle groaned, trying to pull away. "Can't you see he's watching? I could just kill you!"

  "What do you care if he's watching? I'm the one who's in trouble. I'm the one he threatened." He gently brushed a lock of curly hair off her forehead. Her hair had grown since he first saw her in Seattle; it nearly brushed her shoulders now.

  "Did he?" She couldn't resist a smile. "I didn't know Jack had a violent bone in his body."

  "Well, when it comes to you, he does." Alex kept his voice down, his words meant only for Gabrielle. "Look, I'm sorry he walked in, and I know you're embarrassed; but there's nothing to be done about it now but laugh." He lifted her chin to kiss her tightly compressed lips. "But next time, the door will be bolted."

  "There won't be a next time."

  "Oh, yes, there will," he breathed in her ear.

  An hour later, Gabrielle, Alex and Jack sat around the table, devouring the fried moose steak and potatoes and sampling the fine whiskey. Once Gabrielle's ruffled feathers had been smoothed, the meal had been an enjoyable one. The three got along well, laughing and telling stories, each revealing small glimpses of himself.

  "Who taught you how to cook moose?" Jack asked Alex as he pushed his cleaned plate back.

  "Never cooked it before, but as far as I could see, it wasn't much different than beef." Alex grabbed his own dirty plate and slid his hand across the table to take Jack's.

  Gabrielle handed Alex her plate, allowing her hand to brush against his. The whiskey had lulled her into a pleasant mood, making her feel warm and safe here in her cabin with her two best friends in the world. Best friend and her lover, she silently corrected herself. She couldn't help smiling as she watched Alex move across the room to clear the table. He barely limped now, his stride long and masculine. She watched as the firelight played off his well-sculpted face, emphasizing his high cheek bones and well-shaped chin. His dark auburn hair was tousled giving him the appearance of being far younger than his thirty-five years.

  Alex returned to the table, dragging his chair around to sit beside Gabrielle. He patted her leg, reaching for his glass. "How about another round?"

  Jack pushed his glass forward. "Another." He pulled a cigar from his leather jerkin and went to light it from the coals in the blazing fire.

  "You, Gabrielle?" Alex's voice was soft and teasing.

  She dropped her hand to his thigh. "I shouldn't." His gaze held hers, making her feel hot and tingly.

  "But you will . . ."

  She nodded her head, her eyes fastened intently on his. "But I will . . ."

  Alex poured a generous portion of the amber liquid into her glass and then leaned to refill Jack's. Putting down the bottle, he laid his hand gently over hers, giving her a wink out of the corner of his eye.

  Jack dropped back into his chair and pushed it back, resting one foot on the table. Smoke from his cigar circled his head, rising to form a cloud in the ceiling's rafters. "Gabe here tells me you're a gold seeker." His eyes narrowed. "Don't look much like one."

  Alex laughed, squeezing Gabrielle's hand when he felt it tense beneath his own. "What does a gold miner look like?"

  "Not a gentleman." Jack studied his leather boot propped on the edge of the table, flexing his foot. "Gabe's father was a miner." He glanced over at Gabrielle as if for approval to go on.

  Alex saw the slightest nod of he
r chin and spoke cautiously. "Was he? She never told me that."

  "Probably hasn't told you a lot of stuff. . . ."

  Alex sighed, seeing it was obvious it was going to be as difficult to get any information out of Jack as it was Gabrielle. "Where did he mine?"

  Jack removed his cigar, waggling it at Alex. "Ah hah! More than one man has asked that same question."

  "You never really believed those stories of Papa's, did you, Jack? You know as well as I do that he was the best liar on this side of the Tanana." Gabrielle took a sip of the whiskey from her glass, savoring its taste as it slid down her throat, burning a path to her stomach.

  "I'll tell you, Gabe, they were no stories. I saw the money he played faro with. Even saw a chunk or two of gold."

  "God sakes, Jack! The money you saw was what he'd won from someone else, or cheated them out of!" Gabrielle knew the liquor was loosening her tongue, but she didn't care. Maybe this was the best way to tell Alex. The whiskey would serve as a buffer against the pain of the loss of her father over that damnable map.

  "I don't understand; Rouge said he struck gold?" Alex held Gabrielle's hand tight in his. He wasn't going to let her slip away from him this time. No, tonight he'd hear the story of Rouge LeBeau and the murderer, Lucas Taylor.

  "Lied and said he struck gold." Gabrielle took a deep breath as Jack settled back in chair, letting her go on with the story on her own. "It was while I was in Seattle at that boarding school. My father said he won a map in a poker game, a map that led to gold somewhere north of here. He told me he went there, mined and struck gold."

  Alex studied her dark eyes, lifting his glass to his lips. "So why didn't you ever see any gold, or money at least?"

  "Because there never was any gold." She got up from the chair and went to stare at the fire blazing in the fireplace. In one hand she cradled her nearly empty glass. "His story was that he lost all of the gold gambling. 'Course Papa told me a lot of things, and most of them were lies."

  Alex watched her intently. "You said there was a map. Where is it now?"

  "He said there was a map." She laughed bitterly. "I never saw it, never believed it for a minute. But he always promised me that one day we were going to go back and mine the gold, and then we were going to build that road we always talked about."