At the Rainbow's End (17 page)

“Maybe.” She shook, her head to break the bewitchment of his words.

Stepping away from him, she answered the stern woman's questions about size and style. There was little choice. The smallest set proved too long when Joel held them up before her.

“Charming,” he teased.

“You don't need to be sarcastic.” She took them from him and rolled them over her hands to divert the eager eyes of the other prospectors from her and the hideous undergarment.

“I wasn't. And you'll be glad you have them.”

Coldly she stated, “I'm sure.”

He took the brown wrapped package containing the luxurious, dark red material and her crimson winter underwear. He took the tab offered by the storekeeper and started to sign it. Then, with a flourish, he held out the pen to Samantha. “You sign for it. After all, you're a full partner in Fifteen Above.”

Seeing the storekeeper's amazement, she said, “I don't know if I should. After all …”

“Your signature is as good as ours.” He grinned roguishly. “Or are you afraid to accept the risks as well as the rewards of our claim?”

Piqued by his challenge, she barely looked at the paper as she signed it. He continued to smile as he took the pen from her and added his signature beneath her name. As if he could hear her question before she spoke, he said, “You signed only for the Union suit. The fabric is a gift.” He handed the tab to the storekeeper and offered his arm to Samantha.

Placing her gloved hand on it, she said quietly, “Joel, I did not intend for you to pay for the fabric.”

“We haven't changed our bargain, have we? We promised we'd take care of you until you paid us back for your fare to Dawson.” He grinned, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “If you wish, I can just add this purchase to the thousand dollars for your ticket. It'll take you that much longer to even your debt to us.”

“You always have some scheme going, don't you?”

He laughed at her wry expression. “When it comes to keeping you at Fifteen Above, you're right.”

Samantha did not know how to answer. He was making it more and more obvious that he did not intend to let her leave without becoming his lover. She yearned to flee, yet she wanted nothing more than to return to his arms.

When he called to Kevin, she relaxed a bit. It
was
her decision. Although he made little attempt to hide the truth, he had not pressured her to be his lover since the first time he kissed her, on the riverbank. She tried to compose herself.

Soon, she was astonished to find that Joel was leaving, to do some errands of his own. Kevin smiled and nodded. They would meet Joel in an hour.

With a wave, Joel left. The crowd—a multi-faceted creature moving in every direction—swallowed him at once. She turned to their partner and smiled.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Kevin wrenched his eyes away from her enticing form. The sooner he finished his business, the more time he would have alone with her. “Look around,” he said, “I have to complete our order.”

“You are sure I can't help?”

“Unless you want to assist in loading the wagon with the fifty-pound bags of supplies, I think you would spend your time better enjoying yourself.”

She nodded, knowing she would only be in the way. With her eyes on the floor, she wandered away from the counter where he bargained with the dour man who owned the store. These storekeepers did not have to charm their customers. There was no other place to go but Dawson, many miles away. If the patrons here did not want to pay the highly inflated prices, they could do without.

The shelves around the store were filled with everything from thread to bottles of whiskey. She noted a variety of medicine in one shadowed corner. Catching the eye of the taciturn woman, she asked for several varieties to be added to their order. In the cabin on Fifteen Above, there was nothing to ease the discomfort of winter sicknesses which might strike.

Kevin picked up one of several bottles in front of him and scowled at the label. From across the room, Samantha did not have to hear his question. When the unsmiling woman pointed at her, he turned and smiled, raising the bottle in a jesting salute before finishing his business.

Discomforted by the press of seldom washed bodies, Samantha moved to the rear of the store, where she discovered some items she had not expected to see in this Yukon trading post. Squatting, she looked at fine china figurines. Then she noticed fringed shades for electric lamps, which seemed the height of ridiculousness. There was no electricity in Grand Forks.

“Find anything interesting?”

She glanced up and smiled, and Kevin took her hand and raised her to her feet. Pulling it away, she brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. Something about his touch made her uncomfortable. She suspected it was her own guilty conscience.

Covering her discomfort, she took a book from a lower shelf. “Look!” she said excitedly. “Have you read this?”

He squinted at the cover. With a shrug, he said, “I don't think so.”

“Do you like Charles Dickens?”

“Yes, I guess so,” he replied, without much enthusiasm. He brightened as he added, “Would you like it?”

Her fingers stroked the raised letters on the cover of the book.
Great Expectations
always had been one of her favorite Dickens novels. She had been forced to leave all her books behind, because of luggage restrictions on the trip west and the steamer north. To be able to read again seemed a luxury.

“Do we have the money?”

“Don't worry about that. If you want this, then I think you should have it. You've been working very hard with no pay. A small thing like this is less than you deserve.”

“I've been rewarded. Joel bought me some fabric for a new skirt.” She regretted the words as soon as she spoke. Kevin's mouth became a compressed line.

“Is that so?” he asked tightly. “A book seems a small gift compared to that.”

“No,” she said to soothe him. “A book is a wondrous gift.” She forced a smile to her lips to ease the darkness dimming his eyes. “It'll take many hours of labor to turn the material into a skirt. This book I can enjoy immediately.”

He lifted her hand and caressed her slender fingers. “That's true, isn't it? Samantha, I want you to realize how important it is to me, having you at Fifteen Above.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” He bent to place a surprising, swift kiss on her cheek. “I just don't want you to forget that I love you.”

Honestly, she could say, “I can never forget that, Kevin.”

“But you don't feel the same, yet.”

“No.” She did not dare add that she doubted if she would ever feel the way he wanted. If she could love Kevin, everything would be so perfectly simple. Joel would not contest her decision. It would be perfect. Her heart, though, never had listened to her head.

When she saw he was waiting for her to say something else, she let him lead her about the store. She asked questions, and his descriptions of tools used on bench claims helped her to understand how the men dug deep into the hillsides, hoping to find veins of gold. Kevin told her that prospectors started fires to defrost the layer of frozen earth below the top few inches of soil. Melting the permafrost, they could sink spades or explosives into the ground.

Slowly, Kevin's good humor returned. He entertained her with stories of many hapless attempts to shortcut the process and find gold with ease. Only after such foolishness did men and women learn the truth—gold could be found only with hard work.

She pointed to the fine Dickens book, laughing, as she paused near the door. “Look at what this says, Kevin.” She smiled as her fingers moved along the letters. When he did not chuckle, she looked at him strangely. She had thought the words on the page would appeal to his sense of humor. Feeling her eyes on him, he laughed, but she could tell it was forced. His mood had suddenly changed. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing!” he snapped. “Let me pay for your book. Then we can get out of here and see something else of Grand Forks before we meet up with Joel. I'll be right back.”

Baffled, she watched as he crossed to the counter, where the storekeeper had been waiting on another customer. Kevin pushed in front of the other miner and gestured toward her. Although he cursed, the prospector stepped aside.

Kevin leaned on the counter and spoke with the shop owner in low tones. As she moved toward them, the door opened to reveal a trio of mud-covered miners. Their glances in her direction were the most lascivious she had met today. She did not want to confront them alone.

“Just sign here, Houseman,” said the man behind the counter. “I must have a signature to put this on your bill.”

Kevin motioned again for Samantha to come nearer. “This is a new partner in the Fifteen Above, Samantha Perry.”

“Your mail order bride?” The man smiled as he folded his arms on the high counter and regarded her with increased interest. “You sure picked yourself a looker, Houseman. So who does she belong to?”

Kevin did not need to look at Samantha to know her face was bright with embarrassment. He wondered if she knew how much he longed to take her away from this rough world, to the better life she deserved. Those fantasies filled his dreams.

To emphasize his point and ease her discomfort, he said, “Never mind. C'mon, Samantha. Let's go.”

“But, Kevin, the book—I must pay for it.”

He hesitated, glancing from the bulky book to the storekeeper's face. His hands clenched at his sides, and she wondered why he was so distressed by a simple fact. “All right. I'll sign for it now.”

The storekeeper chuckled as he rocked the page in front of them. “Why not let her sign for it? That's what Gilchrist did. Or maybe you don't consider her a
full partner?
”

As furious as she was with the storekeeper's barely veiled insults, Samantha would not forgive Kevin quickly if he spoke the truth. He could not risk angering her and keeping her from his arms where she belonged. He grabbed the pen and shoved it into her hand. “Sign it, Samantha!”

No one else had been interested in the Dickens book during the three months it sat on the dusty shelf. Few men wanted to read of another's trials after a day of mucking in mud and gravel or digging through the permafrost.

“Where do you want me to sign?” asked Samantha.

“Here.” He pointed to the page, where Joel's name appeared several times. When she picked up the pen, she wondered why Kevin's name was not anywhere on the page.

She glanced at the blond man. He flushed and turned away, as if ashamed. Comprehension filled her with the brightness of the lights shining in the northern night skies. Kevin did not sign because he could not write his name!

Handing the pen to the storekeeper, she understood why “Joel Houseman's” letters did not reflect Kevin's personality. Joel had penned them alone.

Who
was
“Joel Houseman”? A composite of two men, or a single man, who teased her now to believe her heart?

She pushed the questions to the back of her mind. Taking Kevin's arm, she walked with him out of the store. He turned her down Percentage Avenue. A steady parade of wagons and miners passed them, but he said nothing to her of them or anything else.

When a duo of Mounties rode along the street, one of them tipped his hat politely in her direction. She wondered when she had last thought of Constable French. Her life before Fifteen Above seemed a distant
colláge
of memories. Even Dawson and the hours of laundry with Mrs. Kellogg were a dream of the past.

“Hello. Having fun?”

Shocked that an hour had passed already, she turned to answer Joel. Her words died as she stared at him. A well-defined line showed where his missing beard had kept his chin from tanning to the same shade as the rest of his face. His bushy mustache had been trimmed, although it remained in the thick style favored by the miners. Without the beard, his face seemed less forbidding. She never would have guessed a cleft softened his craggy chin. She fought the temptation to place her finger against it.

“Are you speechless because of the transformation?” Joel teased. “I don't know if that's complimentary.”

“It is!” she assured him quickly. “You simply look so different!”

He laughed. Closing the distance between them on the boardwalk, he took her hand and placed it on his arm. When he spoke, it was to his partner. “Is the wagon loaded?”

“Not quite. I have more to do.”

“Perhaps I'll show Samantha a bit more of Grand Forks, then. Shall we meet you here in an hour?”

Kevin nodded, unable to hide his reluctance. Mumbling a farewell, he strolled away from them. More than once, he glanced over his shoulder to see them standing motionless on the boardwalk. He wondered what his partner would do to top his gift book to Samantha.

“What's that?” asked Joel, breaking into her fascination with the change in him. In his frock coat and perfectly tied stock, with his freshly shaved face, he was far removed from the man who mucked through the Bonanza's icy waters in search of a dream.

When he pointed to the package in her hand she explained, “A book.
Great Expectations
.”

“My favorite Dickens,” he said while they wandered toward First Avenue.

“I think
A Tale of Two Cities
is mine.”

He put his hand over his heart and struck an irreverent pose. “Ah, to die for the one I love! To give my life so that the one I love can be eternally happy! Such a noble sacrifice!”

Samantha laughed at his antics, strolling along the footway. “Continue digging for gold, Joel. Such overacting would bring boos from any audience.”

“And I thought I was so stupendous, that I should play Caligula, or Oedipus Rex, or Romeo.” He stopped, turning her to face him. “What challenging roles. An emperor of Rome, a king of Greece, and a young boy. All needing to be loved.”