At the Rainbow's End (12 page)

Although he wanted to continue simply admiring her and find a way to convince her to give into the urge to touch him that she could not hide, Joel smiled. After adjusting the knobs at the far end of the violin's neck, he tested the strings of the violin. When he began to play, the clarity of its notes floated like crystal raindrops in the rough little room. Samantha regarded him in openmouthed wonder. He smiled, knowing she had expected a rollicking “Turkey in the Straw” or a popular gold rush tune. Instead he played a Strauss waltz.

Fascinated, she watched his lean hands fly along the instrument with easy assurance.

Kevin came to stand in the lopsided arch they had cut into the wall when they built this room.

Closing her eyes, Samantha was transported far from the rough hills of the Yukon. She imagined a world she had never known—a world which existed in distant cities, where women in silk dresses swirled across the floors of mirrored and gilded ballrooms in the arms of men in perfectly tailored tuxedoes. While Joel played, she was in that world, savoring the soft colors and listening to the melodies which washed away the coarseness of her life here.

Regretfully she opened her eyes as the last note sighed into silence. “That is so beautiful,” she murmured.

“I remembered you wrote that you love music.” He held out the violin. “Do you play?”

With a laugh, she shook her head. “My musical talent is limited to singing, hopefully with others loud enough to drown out my mistakes.”

“Sing for us, Samantha,” came a soft request from the doorway.

“Kevin, I don't sing that well.”

Joel put the violin beneath his chin, asking, “Do you know this?” He began to play. Within a few notes she recognized the popular tune he was playing.

She began to sing, hands clasped around one knee, of love found and too quickly lost. When Joel sang harmony to complement her and the melody from the violin, she realized that she suddenly felt welcome in this place. Her eyes met his as they traveled the maze of verses.

Kevin applauded when the song came to an end, and she stepped down from the ladder and curtsied low in his direction. Then she did the same to Joel, who tipped an imaginary hat in her direction. Soon they all joined in rare, delightful laughter.

Urging Joel to play more, she went to the stove to make coffee. Humming to the next song, she cut three slices from a pie she had made of precious, dried apples and began to sway to the tempo of the waltz.

She did not realize what she was doing until Kevin stepped in front of her and held out his hands. Curtsying again, she placed hers on his palm and lifted her skirts. Hand on her waist, he drew her back into the addition and whirled her with easy grace through the waltz. They laughed when they bumped into the few pieces of furniture crowding the small room. Joel now sat on the bed, to free extra space, his long legs crossed beneath him.

She smiled at Kevin. Although she was growing accustomed to surprises from these men, she would not have expected him to dance this well. He did not have innate grace, like Joel.

Joel smiled as his eyes met hers, and Kevin swirled her with sudden vehemence. Gasping, she broke the sapphire gaze holding her eyes.

“You dance as lovely as you do everything else,” murmured the blond man, turning her to the tempo of the music. He pressed her closer to him.

“Kevin!” she whispered, uncomfortable. The flickering lamplight created strange shadows, making his smile alternate between friendly and diabolical. He stroked her back in a simple, circular motion, bringing her closer to him. Through the fabric of her workskirt, she could feel the hard muscles of his legs moving against her in tempo with the music. His chest caressed hers, making her aware of the fine layers of silk between her skin and the coarse cotton of his thin shirt.

“Relax,” he whispered. “It's simply a dance. Let me enjoy holding you.”

Samantha relented. If she persisted, it might cause a scene which would ruin the pleasant evening. She concentrated on the music. With her mind on the melody, she could put aside her distress with Kevin's sudden forwardness.

With a flourish, Joel finished the song and accepted their enthusiastic applause. When Samantha placed the pie and coffee on the table, he grabbed her hand and drew her down next to him. He smiled at her surprise. From her first night on the claim, she had shared Kevin's bench.

Her astonishment grew as his arm slid around her waist. Although she knew she should tell him to desist, she liked the sensation of his work-hardened arm against her. He did not pause in conversation while his fingers caressed her side slowly, sensually, urging her closer. She fought the desire to feel the length of his body against her.

Nervously listening to the men talk, sipping coffee, she wondered why she yearned for the caress of this man. When he drew his arm from her to use both hands to emphasize a point to Kevin, she suddenly felt bereft. His touch ignited a hunger which no food could satisfy.

When he put his hand over hers in her lap, she flinched. His fingers rested on her leg. Kevin noticed her reaction and asked, “What is wrong, Samantha?”

“Nothing,” she said with hasty guilt. Perhaps nothing was wrong. Or perhaps everything was. “I must ask you to excuse me. I have a busy day tomorrow. It's the day Liberty brings in the wash from Sixteen Above. I'll see you in the morning.”

She stood, wondering if Joel would release her hand. His face mirrored his disappointment, but he did not hold her captive.

“Good night,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”

“I will.” She included Kevin in her smile. “After this lovely evening of dancing and music, I certainly will.”

With hurried steps, she crossed the small room and scurried up her ladder. She breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the sanctuary of her room. Here she did not have to watch her every word and action. Yet even in this place which was hers alone, she could not escape the truth. Today she had become sure of two terrible facts.

She liked one of the partners of Fifteen Above. She desired the other.

More than ever, she was sure she must leave the Bonanza before she gave into temptation and chose one of the men, as they had planned. Sighing, she fell into a restless sleep, to haunted dreams.

No new solutions came to Samantha during the night. She must leave the claim. That thought taunted her while she dressed and brushed her hair into a bun at the back of her neck. It rang through her head as she prepared a hasty breakfast for the men. As usual, they had been at the sluice for several hours before she woke.

Liberty's arrival kept her from having to sit down to eat with Joel and Kevin. His light banter soothed her dark thoughts. She gave him the pile of cleaned clothes and accepted payment and his dirt-encrusted shirts. She dropped the sweat-hardened, filthy clothes on the floor, already sorry she had agreed to this. Although the money would help her do what she must, she was beginning to feel she had spent all her life cleaning shirts for prospectors.

She listened intently while Liberty shared news from beyond Bonanza Creek. In Grand Forks last week one of his partners had luxuriated in the chance to read a newspaper less than a month old. Another newspaper syndicate had sent a reporter north to cover the growing excitement of the gold rush. The man from the Chicago
Record
worked out of Dawson, but had come into Grand Forks to gather information for an article to titillate his readers. None of this interested her as much as what was happening outside the Yukon.

Sometimes she had a hard time remembering that there actually was a world beyond this one of freshly cut stumps and disgusting laundry. She wondered if her past was a dream, if her present was a nightmare. The two did not seem connected in any way.

When Joel emerged from the cabin, he greeted Liberty enthusiastically, inviting the huge man to visit the repaired sluice and see a new method he and Kevin had developed for searching for gold. Liberty agreed excitedly. Any help would be welcomed in the frustrating work they did each day.

Joel paused before they left to say, “That was a good breakfast.”

“It's the same I fix you every day,” she answered, surprise mixing with pleasure at his unexpected compliment.

“Then maybe I should have told you before how much I appreciate your cooking.” He smiled, his blue eyes rivaling the sun-washed sky.

He could not resist stroking her arm, and she could not step away to avoid it. Ignoring Liberty, who watched the exchange with candid amusement, Joel smiled as he felt her slim arm. It amazed him how she could appear so delicate, yet work so strenuously.

“I'm glad you like it.” She paid no attention to what she was saying aloud. A silent message passed between them, much stronger than words.

How tempted she was to cling to him and savor the touch of his body all along hers! Others who had tried to hold her had always brought stomach churning distaste. She did not think it would be the same with Joel, and longed to know.

Samantha watched as he walked away with Liberty. The change had come so suddenly between them that she was not sure how it had happened. Yesterday they were snapping at each other, today she wanted to be deep in his arms, listening to the power of his heartbeat.

With a sigh, she returned to work. The change in Joel might be fleeting as the notes flying from his violin. She could not waste her time dreaming. She had work to do.…

Picking up her bucket, Samantha grasped her skirt and headed up the steep hill toward the spring. Over and over, she had told herself how lucky she was that she did not have to carry filled pails up the slope. She could slide down with relative ease, worrying only about spilling the water.

The narrow trunks of pines and birches spread out across the hillside. She was always pleased to see trees unbroken by haphazard axes. This far from the river, few had been chopped down for constructing rustic cabins. All the boards for the sluices and furniture had come from the sawmill of Joe Ladue, the man who founded Dawson. He decided to provide services to prospectors instead of standing in cold water himself.

Dipping the pail into the icy puddle around the spring, Samantha noted how few birds sounded in the trees. She missed the homey sound of a robin's song and a jay's scold more than anything else she had left behind her. The most familiar noise here was the everpresent whine of insects.

Back at the clearing, she ducked beneath the ropes she had hung between the cabin and the horse barn. By the end of the morning, many shirts would be flapping in the breeze from those lines.

She placed the heavy bucket on the ground and silenced her moan of fatigue. In Dawson, everything had closed on the Sabbath, and Mrs. Kellogg's laundry followed the lead of the saloons and dance halls. Samantha did not have the same luxury here on Fifteen Above. The men worked every day, and expected the same from her.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she regarded the serpentine sojourn of the Bonanza from horizon to horizon. Even this far from the shore, she could hear the sounds of the men working in it. Curses and orders drifted in incomprehensible fragments to her. She smiled as she noted a cheerful whistle. The sound was angel song, relief from the discouraged, driven voices along this stretch of the river.

Realizing the music came from behind her, Samantha turned. Her eyes met Kevin's dark ones. Jaunty as the tune he created, he flung out his arms to embrace her.

“How're you this morning, pretty Samantha?”

She put up her hands to avoid him, but he simply laughed and took them between his large ones and pressed them to his lips. When he saw their angry red roughness, his smile faded.

“You're working too much.”

“I told the men I'd do their laundry. I can't tell them no, now.”

He scowled. “I can. We didn't invite you to come all the way up here so you could work for those others.”

“No, you invited me here so I could work for you and Joel.”

“Samantha,” he called as she turned away. When she did not answer, he spun her around to face him. His arm swept around her, as intimately as when they had danced. “Samantha, my dear Samantha, you know that isn't true.”

She could not halt him as he pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue teased her lips, urging them to open to admit him to the secret pleasures within. Pushing at him, Samantha tried to avoid his persistent lips. His hand captured her head, twisting the loosened hair between his fingers. When she attempted to move away, the strands pulled painfully, and she moaned.

Her moan became a gasp as he took advantage of the parting of her lips to invade her mouth. In shock, she felt his tongue stroking its silky inner recesses. No man had ever kissed her like this. Not sure if she liked it, she had no time to decide. He moved to explore the length of her neck. Her hands clenching on his shoulders, she realized she could not escape his force. A sliver of cold fear cut through her.

At the muted sound of two rocks scraping against each other she gazed over Kevin's shoulder. Joel stood watching them. She froze as Kevin continued to murmur endearments against her skin. Seeing Joel gave her the strength to do what she could not before, and she managed to break his hold on her. Trembling, she continued to stare past him.

Seeing her startled gaze and looking behind him, Kevin fought to keep a victorious smile from his lips. Now it would not be a secret that Samantha allowed him to kiss her. She had refused his partner almost every opportunity to be near her, he knew. He had kept close surveillance on this woman he intended to win.

“I need your help at the sluice,” said Joel without emotion.

“Of course.” Kevin caressed Samantha's shoulders once more before moving to lead the way down to the river.

When Joel turned to follow, she said desperately, “Joel, wait!”

“Yes?” His cold eyes showed that he believed she had been an eager participant in what he had seen.

Samantha hesitated. If she spoke the truth, he might laugh with cruel distrust. She could not bear that. The sobs close to her lips might rush out, betraying her. Even if he did not laugh, her words might create new trouble with Kevin.