At the Rainbow's End (24 page)

She laughed, her exhaustion lowering the last of her barriers. “That sounds lovely except for a few small details.”

“Such as?” he asked in the same, light tone.

“One, I doubt if something as civilized as a greenwood bower exists in the Yukon. Two, if we stayed out all night long, we'd probably freeze to death. Lastly, I doubt if I can stay awake through supper.”

His husky tones caressed her ear. “I could try to keep you awake, Sam.”

“I'm sure.” She yawned broadly and laughed. “But I think even you'd lose tonight, Joel.”

“Another night?”

She caught her breath at his intense tone. The simple question forced her to face what she had been trying to avoid. She wanted Joel to hold her and teach her, while they shared their love. That was why she thought of such a lovely moment so often. Unsure of anything but the truth of her answer, she whispered, “Yes.”

“Soon?”

“Yes.”

When he placed her on her feet and held out his hand, she wondered when that bewitching moment would come. She walked with him to the cabin. The flickering light of candles did not extend very far into the darkness beyond their rustic cabin, built on a mound above the fierce force of the river.

“Here we are, Sam,” he murmured. “Let me tend to the horse. Then I will help you cook us supper.”

“Supper? You don't need to help.”

“But I want to.” Smiling into her tired eyes, he was pleased to see the longing that no toil could vanquish. “Everything I do with you is fun, honey. Besides, I want you to stay healthy. Just in case.” With an irreverent wink, he left her alone with her dreams.

She reached for the door latch and wondered if those dreams would ever become reality. Even as she greeted Kevin and asked how he felt, she tried to think of a way she and Joel could have some time alone without revealing the truth.

Pushing the thought from her mind, she sat on a bench and pulled off her wet boots and regaled Kevin with tales of her misadventures in the creek. Despite the cold and cramp of her body, she did not think she had ever been so happy. She hoped this joy would last forever.

Chapter Thirteen

When Samantha came out of the cabin, Joel was setting a board on top of two carefully balanced logs and placing four dishes of liquid on it.

He glanced up and smiled when he saw her shivering in the doorway. “Put on something warm, and I'll show you something.”

Grabbing her thickest cloak from the hook, she wrapped it around her shoulders and hurried out. The wind flipped the cape and her skirt ahead of it, revealing the red flannel encasing her legs. The temperature had turned sharply colder, and she delighted in the warmth of her unsightly flannel underwear.

Joel's eyes twinkled as he looked at her pretty, chafed face. He said nothing about her undergarments, not wanting to enrage her by stating that he had been correct.

“I'm making a Klondike thermometer,” he explained.

“We have a thermometer in the cabin. Why don't you simply hang it out here? Then we won't run the risk of spilling these each time we go in and out of the house.”

He toyed with her hair until she grimaced and pulled up her hood. “You sweet innocent, the liquid in that first bowl is mercury, same as in the thermometer by the stove. We bought two, and then broke one to get this. When the real cold arrives in a week or two, this will freeze solid.”

“Mercury will freeze?” she gasped.

“Anything can up here, honey. Just remember that, if you get the urge to go for a walk in the snow. When the temperature reaches minus 38, the mercury will become solid. The next dish is whiskey from Dewey's in Grand Forks. If that freezes, it shows the air is at minus 55.” He lifted the third dish. “Smell this.”

Turning her face away, she choked on the strong fumes, gasping, “You could have warned me. That's kerosene.”

“Valuable liquid, too. Forty dollars a gallon.” He placed it back on the impromptu board and log table. “Pray that doesn't solidify. If it does, it is getting damn cold, at around 65 degrees below zero.”

“65 degrees below zero? Surely you're joking!”

Joel smiled at her disbelief. “I wish I was. We had a week last year when the kerosene never thawed. This last is some of the Perry Davis' Pain-Killer you bought at the store. We had none last year, so I don't know if it even got to the minus 75 degrees needed to freeze it.” He chuckled. “Cheer up, Sam. Everything is fluid now.”

“In your letters you told me it was cold, but I had no idea it would be like this.” Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at him suspiciously. She had learned not to trust that too charming grin. “You wouldn't tease me, would you?”

“I would. Unfortunately, though, this is the truth.” Taking her hand, he drew her toward the stable. “Come with me. I have to feed the horse. I'll be glad when Kevin is feeling better and can help again.”

His words reminded her of why she had been looking for him. “Joel, I think he should see a doctor. He doesn't seem to be bouncing back from whatever this was. That cough is too deep in his chest. It should have disappeared by now.”

He opened the door of the small building and ushered her inside. It was warm with the smell of hay and animal waste. The horse neighed a greeting at them as Joel slapped its rump. He opened a bag of valuable grain and poured a ladleful into a trough before the animal.

“Have you spoken to Kevin about this?” he asked. “I suggested it once, and he cut me off before I could finish my subtle hint.”

Samantha laughed. The idea of Joel being subtle about anything amused her. His forthrightness attracted her, and enraged her, too. She leaned against the prickly pile of hay and crossed her arms over her chest, to hold in any bit of body heat.

“I think we should confront him together,” she said, suddenly serious. When she met his gaze, she knew he agreed. She was discovering more and more that they did not need to talk to share what was in their minds. It seemed as if their love melded their hearts together, and intertwined their souls.

“Now?”

She nodded. “The weather is clear.” Smiling grimly, she added, “And everything's still liquid.”

“If he rides Skookum, here, he will be able to conserve his energy. He knows enough folks along the river, so he can find a friend to stay overnight with on the way.”

“What?” she gasped. “Then why did we sleep in the woods on our way here from Dawson?”

Joel motioned her aside and dug the pitchfork deep into the haystack. “To keep you to himself, honey.”

“But he was a gentleman.”

“Kevin would be. It's a good thing he won the flip of the coin and came into Dawson to meet you. I might have let you believe the lies, and married you as Joel Houseman.”

Laughing again, she watched the ease of his body as he flung hay into the stall. Everything he did seemed beautifully choreographed, like a ballet. Even when he sharpened his razor in the morning to shave, she enjoyed watching the innately graceful movements of his muscles beneath his skin. He brought the lightness of his fingers flitting across the neck of his violin to many of his motions.

Although she had savored these moments of privacy with him, she was glad when he said it was time to return to the cabin. They seldom left it now, except for necessary tasks. With the river becoming frozen solid, no work could be done there. That pleased Samantha. She was not eager to repeat the back-bending labor in the icy water.

Kevin looked up from his seat by the fire. Smiling, he lifted the blanket from his shoulders and motioned for Samantha to take his place on a bench at the table. “Where did you go to?”

“Joel was showing me your unique way of telling the temperature.”

“Unique is correct,” he said, responding to her smile with his own. “It matches the weather. I was hoping we had spent our last winter in the Klondike.” His face saddened before a spasm of coughs dropped him to the bench again.

She used the metal ladle to break the ice on the top of the water bucket and offered him a serving of the cold water. He drank gratefully, as soon as his ravaged throat allowed. Then, she said softly, “We think you should see a doctor, Kevin.”

“Can't.”

“Why not?” Joel demanded.

His partner pointed to a wooden box on a small shelf next to the door. “You know how much gold dust there is in there. Nothing. Doctors like to be paid, you know.”

Samantha went to the small box, not much larger than one containing matches, and carried it back to the table. “Open it.”

“I—” His words disappeared into a coughing fit again. Then he lifted trembling fingers to the top. Holding his hand over his mouth, so no violent volley of coughs would blow away the precious dust, he stared at the now half-filled box. “Where did this come from?”

“First payment I owe you two. I figure it's about half of what it cost for my trip north.” She did not reveal that the equal amount remained hidden under her bed upstairs. A cautious part of her wanted to hide the total amount she had made by cleaning the prospector's filthy clothes. “Take what you need for the doctor and go to the hospital in Dawson.”

Kevin looked from her pleading face to his equally serious partner. Although he did not want to admit it, he knew they were correct. He needed to see a doctor to regain his health. After all the work he had given to this claim, he did not want to give up because he could not survive a Klondike winter.

“All right,” he said simply. “I'll go. I can stay with Byrd on Thirty Below. That's close in. Then I'll be able to make it home after seeing the doctor.”

“I'm glad!” Samantha hugged him quickly. “I don't want to think of either of my partners suffering all winter. Let me start a warm meal for us. I want you to be plenty strong when you leave in the morning.”

He moved away slowly. He tried to catch her eye, but she was busy chattering about what she would pack for him. If he could hold Samantha and show her his love, perhaps he would not feel the cold all the way to Dawson. As it was …

Leslie would be in Dawson. Since he first saw Samantha, he had not thought about the woman who had jilted him. Once his mind had been busy with ways to make Leslie change her mind, but even that vanished when Samantha arrived. Now he thought about the lush pressure of Leslie's full breasts against him when he paid her a dollar for a dance—or more, for other entertainment …

As Samantha laughed with his partner, Kevin's hand closed over the small box. The dust would allow him to enjoy earthy Leslie for more than one night. He would bring Samantha a present home from the city, too, to show her that he had missed her. Truthfully, she would be in his thoughts. Even when he satisfied his needs with Leslie, he would be loving this dark-haired beauty in his mind.

He had one consolation for failing to woo Samantha into his arms. He was sure Joel had been as unsuccessful at having pretty Samantha to himself.

To himself … that thought lingered. Joel was taking out his violin, Samantha kneaded the bread she would cook tonight for their breakfast. If he went into Dawson, Samantha and his partner would have the privacy he craved. Kevin smiled as he pocketed the box of gold. She had made it very clear she did not intend to become involved with either of them. Imagining his homecoming from Dawson, sated with Leslie's skillful lovemaking, he smiled with pity for Joel, who panted futilely after a woman who refused to surrender.

He laughed and went to throw a few other things in his knapsack. It should be a good trip.

Samantha tried to sleep, but the cold ate into her bones,
crunching
, keeping her awake. She hoped Kevin had reached his friends, and was warm. When Joel came in for supper tonight, he told her the mercury and the whiskey were both frozen.

In her attic, far from the stovepipe peeking through the first floor roof in the original cabin, she shivered. If they had finished the fireplace chimney in the addition, she could be cozy, from the heat stored in the stones. Each time she forced her eyes to close they popped open, and she imagined freezing to death in this isolated cabin. She was conscious of every inch of her trembling skin.

She could not spend the night up here. Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders, Samantha ran quickly across the freezing floor. Her toes in their heavy, wool socks gripped the rungs of the ladder. Through the darkness, she moved with ease, from memory.

The stove glowed feebly in the cold. She held out her hands to its warmth, which barely challenged the chill. Closing her eyes, she savored the faint hint of heat. During the horrid summer weather, she thought she never wanted to be drenched with perspiration again. The first bite of winter had taught her differently.

“Oh, Joel, did I wake you?” she asked, hearing movement just behind her.

His mumbled answer was distorted by a yawn. She laughed lightly and drew the pot from its shelf on the top of the stove. With one hand clutching the covers around her, she reached for two cups and the tin of tea. She put them on the table, but he picked them up and shook his head.

His voice thick with sleep, he murmured, “Too cold over there. We should sit here on the floor by the stove. I think it's the only warm place in this blasted cabin. I was hoping last winter was a fluke. I guess this is what we must expect every year.”

“I hope Kevin is somewhere secure.”

The days when his partner's name had created rage were past. He nodded and held up the cups. She poured the water in them. “He's probably holed up with friends, dreaming about being in some saloon in Dawson with his arms around his dollar a dance girl.”

“Leslie?”

“Probably, if he can convince her to take him back. I hope he's enjoying himself.” He took a sip of the tea. “He does so seldom. I have never met a man more determined to look on the sour side of life.”

“Joel!”

Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he urged her to sit on the floor next to him. She leaned her head on him. Curling her toes helped her to pretend she felt warm. She did, where his finger stroked her arm.