September's Dream (19 page)

*  *  *

Jase dragged the deer back to camp. Working quickly, he skinned and dressed it, cutting the meat into small sizes. He wouldn’t have to hunt again for days. In a pot of boiling water, he tossed chunks of deer meat, along with some of the precious dried vegetables he had brought from Mueller’s Store. It had been a hard day. They needed a hearty meal to keep up their strength.

The entrails were thrown into a separate skillet, as a treat for the dogs. Jase knew how important it was to keep those layers of fat on his animals. The job they did was punishing. He treated his dogs with great respect.

As he worked, he thought of September. He had watched her throughout the day, without her knowledge. She surprised him. Though she was small, almost delicate-looking, she had an inner strength which he admired. She hadn’t complained. And although it must have taken everything she had, she managed to keep up with him all day. True, he had slowed his pace whenever she fell too far behind. But most people would have given up halfway up the pass.

Tomorrow, he knew, her muscles would protest the strain she had put on them today. For the next several days, he would have to remember to take it easy and let her ride as much as possible. Then, when she was feeling stronger, he would be able to increase their pace.

The aroma of stew made his mouth water. He wondered why she hadn’t come outside when he returned. Tossing the cooked innards to the dogs, he stood and walked to the tent.

The coals from the wood chip fire were glowing red. The stones surrounding them gave off their warmth. He saw the pile of clothing, where she had discarded her fur leggings and parka. He knelt down to speak to her. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, he realized she was sound asleep.

She had drawn the fur robe around herself. One arm and shoulder were exposed. He stared at the pale skin and the narrow strap of the chemise. He felt a tightening in his chest. A cloud of silvery hair spilled about her face and shoulders, covering one eye. With a finger he lifted it, all the while studying her face. The hair was as fine as a kitten’s. The skin of her cheek was as soft as the underside of a rose petal. She didn’t move. Her breathing was deep and steady.

He leaned forward, allowing his gaze to travel over her features. Now he was free to study her, without her knowledge. He longed to trace the delicate eyebrow, to touch his fingertips to the slightly parted lips. She was so lovely she took his breath away. To hold her in his arms would be the sweetest torture of his fife.

He turned away, determined not to wake her. She had to be famished. In the morning, he would allow her time to eat a hearty breakfast. But right now, sleep was more important. She had struggled to keep up with him all day. And she had succeeded. The poor little thing was exhausted. She had earned the right to a night of undisturbed sleep.

Jase sat on a fallen log, eating a steaming bowl of deer stew. Around him the dogs settled down for the night, their stomachs filled, their bodies gently warmed by the snow.

All his life he had enjoyed the wilderness, in the company of his dogs. It had never seemed a lonely life. It was, in fact, very satisfying. But the presence of this woman gave this trip a new dimension. He hadn’t wanted her along. And yet, when she had angrily turned on him this morning, it had given him an odd sense of exhilaration when he knew that she wouldn’t back down.

There was a sharper edge to this adventure. With September along, he would have to work twice as hard, to see to it that nothing happened to her, and to make it look as though he didn’t really care.

When his meal was finished and the fire burned to low embers, he took a small pouch from his pocket and rolled a cigarette. Taking a stick from the fire, he held it to the tip of the cigarette and drew deeply, filling his lungs. Leaning his back to the trunk of the tree, he watched the clouds scudding across the moon, making hazy patterns in the night sky. More snow tomorrow. He could feel it.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. In his tent, under his protection, was the Velvet Voice. Jase thought about the time he had kissed her. That shy, almost sweet response to his kiss had startled him. And fooled him. He had honestly believed for a moment that he was holding an innocent in his arms. But Snake Rawlins’ women were far from innocent.

And even if she were, she had surely surrendered her innocence for a bag of gold.

When he had smoked the cigarette down too far to hold, he dropped it into the snow. Carefully banking the fire, he entered the tent. Throwing off his clothes, he rolled in a fur robe. In the dim light he studied the wild tangle of silver hair beside him. He longed to stroke it. His hand clenched. He was spending entirely too much time thinking about this woman. With a muttered oath, he rolled to his side and forced himself to think about the route they would take in the morning.

September awoke slowly, feeling completely disoriented. The thin light of dawn showed through the opening in the tent. She glanced around her. Jase’s fur robe had been neatly rolled. Her own clothes lay in a heap where she had dropped them the night before.

Last night. She sat up and felt her muscles protest the movement. She had fallen asleep without even eating. What had Jase thought when he discovered her asleep? What he always thought, she realized with a trace of anger. That she was a weakling who would hold him back on this long journey.

She would make him eat his words. With fresh determination, she dressed quickly, then bent and rolled her fur robe and placed it on top of the others.

Running a hand through the tangles of her hair, she pulled up the fur hood and stepped into the morning air.

The biting rich aroma of coffee on the fire greeted her. As she poured a cup, Jase turned from his task.

"Morning."

"Good morning." She averted her gaze. "I’m sorry about last night."

"Nothing to be sorry for. I heated the stew for breakfast. You’ll need a good meal before we get started."

"Thank you." She filled her plate and sat on a fallen log. After the first bite she nearly choked. A good meal? This would keep her from starvation, but that was all that could be said for it. She supposed last night she would have thought it was wonderful. She took another bite, forcing the food down her throat. She hoped his hunting skills were better than his cooking. The meat was so tough she could hardly chew it. The chunks of vegetables were barely cooked.

"Not too bad, is it?" Jase asked, watching her.

She shook her head, trying not to anger him.

"Venison isn’t easy to cook." He warmed his hands by the fire. "And I’m afraid I don’t much care for cooking anyway. Just so it’s hot and filling. Know much about cooking venison?"

September thought about her job at the grub tent. Deer had been their main source of meat. With a little smile, she murmured, "I can manage."

"Good. Next time, I’ll shoot it and you fix it."

"Fair." She cleaned her plate, then offered him the last cup of coffee before rubbing everything in the snow and packing their cooking supplies on the sled.

While Jase harnessed the dogs, she dismantled their tent and lashed the pelts to the top of the pile on the sled.

At Jase’s signal, the dogs began their fierce barking. The sound shattered the stillness. By the time they were ready to move out, the animals were straining at the leather, eager for another day.

"Ready?"

September stared at the vast, snow-encrusted land, stretching as far as she could see. She gave him a grim nod.

"Climb on."

She walked to the sled. With each step, she felt her muscles tighten in protest. If yesterday seemed long, today would be interminable. Jase touched the whip, and the dogs shot forward.

*  *  *

The first time the load shifted, causing the sled to tip over, September knew it was her fault. She had piled the cooking supplies on top of the load, then pressed the pelts over that, ignoring the fact that everything seemed to lean to one side. When the dogs crested a hill and took a sharp curve, the sled flipped on its side, causing a mass of tangled harnesses and skittish animals.

They wasted two precious hours repacking the sled and calming down the dogs. By the time they started off again, the sun was almost directly overhead. The morning was gone.

By mid-afternoon dark clouds had rolled in, signaling another snow storm. Bending her head against the stinging snow which blew against her face like needles, September struggled not to cry out. Jase seemed determined to make up for the time they had lost, increasing their speed until she felt the team straining from the effort.

They paused at a swollen stream. Lucky, as leader, waited for a signal. Jase left September sitting in the snow with the team while he went ahead to see if there was a narrower point to cross. When he returned he announced that the stream gradually became a rushing waterfall. This would be the safest place to cross.

Valiantly the dogs headed into the icy water and strained against the sloping bank on the far side. Struggling to keep up, September scrambled up the slippery bank and turned to watch in horror as the sled tipped on its side, spilling the contents into the stream.

With a rush of curses, Jase tried to right the sled. September hurried to his side, and together they heaved against its weight. The load was too heavy.

"We’ll have to unload these supplies before we can move this sled," Jase muttered.

While September fished pelts and water-logged supplies from the stream, Jase unharnessed the dogs, unloaded the entire sled, then hauled their supplies up the bank and dumped them unceremoniously in the snow.

The wind had picked up, and the swirling snow was nearly blinding. September stared around the barren land, wondering where Jase would set up their camp this night. To her consternation, he began loading their supplies back on the sled.

"Can’t we do that in the morning?" she asked.

He never even glanced at her as he ordered, "Bring those wet pelts over here."

She thought about dumping them on his head.

Fuming, she did as she was told. They weren’t going to stop. They were going to keep on going in the dark. At his signal, the dogs fell into place, and he bent to the task of harnessing them.

"Aren’t we even going to eat?" she demanded.

"In a while. Sorry, but you’ll have to walk. It’s straight up. We have a far piece to go yet."

A far piece. Damn the man. Didn’t he understand that she was exhausted to the point of tears? As the team bolted forward, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Mindlessly she trudged on, keeping their blurred image always in her line of vision. Soon it would be impossible to see them in the darkness. She would be lost to them. And Jase Conroy wouldn’t even care. In fact, he would like it if she would just drop out now. Maybe, she thought, clenching her fists, he’d planned it this way. If she wouldn’t quit, he would make it impossible for her to continue. That was it. He was deliberately trying to leave her behind. He was sick and tired of having her around. The black thoughts tormenting her made her even more determined to keep up. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him to get rid of her.

She came up over a ridge and strained to make out the dog team. Where had they gone? Darkness had fallen over the land, and trees loomed up like ghostly figures.

"Jase. Jase," she screamed into the blackness. "Lucky." Her words seemed to blow away on the wind.

"Where the hell have you been?"

She whirled at the sound of Jase’s deep voice.

"I couldn’t see you."

"I told you to keep up."

"But it’s dark. You’re going so fast. I couldn’t—"

"We’ll be stopping there for the night." He pointed.

Far below the ridge of snow she saw a twinkling light.

"A house?"

"Cabin. A friend lives there. Told him I’d stop by." Jase began walking again. Fighting exhaustion, September struggled to follow, until they caught up with the resting team. At his signal the dogs leaned into their harnesses and slowly moved the heavy sled toward the pinpoint of light.

With a little sob in her throat, September held to the sled, her gaze fixed firmly on the beacon. Food. Warmth. People.

As they drew near, the dogs began baying. They were answered by the whinny of a horse. A moment later the door to the cabin was thrown open, and a tall, thin young man was silhouetted in the lantern light.

"Who is it?" he called, peering into the blackness.

"Jase Conroy," came the answering voice.

"Jase, you old son-of-a—" He stopped as September emerged from the shadows. "My God. Nell. Look who’s here."

A thin young woman hurried to his side. September’s eyes rounded in surprise.

"Nell. Nell Brooks. I don’t believe it."

"September. Is that really you?" She ran into the snow and hugged her friend.

Jase watched the greeting in surprised silence.

"Jase said he was stopping to see a friend. I never dreamed it would be you and your husband."

"Come on in," Nell said, taking September’s mittened hand. "Will’s sleeping, but I’ll wake him. It isn’t often we get company."

Nell’s husband shrugged into a parka and went out into the darkness to help Jase with the dogs. When the door closed, Nell fell into September’s arms.

"I can’t believe I’m really seeing you," she whispered, stepping back and staring at the fur-clad figure.

"Neither can I. This is the most wonderful surprise. I was ready to kill Jase for making me walk any farther tonight. And now I’m so happy to be here."

Noting the ice which had formed on September’s moccasins and leggings, Nell said, "Why don’t you slip off your wet clothes and hang them by the fire?"

"I don’t have anything else to wear," September admitted shyly.

"I’ll find you something. Here," she said, indicating a hook on the wall. "Get out of those things before the men return."

Gratefully September sat down on a bench and removed her clothes. Nell offered her a long-sleeved gingham gown of sky blue.

"It reminds me of summer," September laughed, studying the border of white lace.

While September dressed by the fire, Nell began preparing a hearty meal. By the time the dogs were fed and settled for the night and the men had returned to the house, the table was set before a roaring fire.

The shy little boy September had met on the boat climbed down a ladder from his loft bedroom and sat beside her.

"How do you like your new home?" September asked him.

"I like it fine. Last week I saw a bear. And my Dad said as soon as I’m old enough, he’s going to get me a gun and show me how to use it."

"Do you miss having other little boys and girls to play with?"

He shook his head. "I’ve got Dusty." He pointed to a small yellow pup lying at his feet. "And next spring, Dad says he’s getting me a pony."

In no time Will’s shyness melted, and he was holding September’s hand, staring up into her eyes, babbling away as if they were old friends.

The men hung their parkas and rolled their sleeves before sitting down to eat. Jase found himself staring across the table at September’s glowing cheeks and dancing eyes, enhanced by the soft dress. Beside her the little boy stared adoringly at her. She was a woman who should be surrounded by warmth and comfort, living a life of ease. It seemed almost cruel to take her back on the trail tomorrow. Maybe he could persuade her to stay here with the Brooks until he returned in a month or so.

"Do you ever get lonely way out here?" September asked her friend.

Nell nodded. "In the beginning, when Jack was off working. But now that winter has settled in, we’re here together. I can’t think of anything I want or need, as long as I have Jack and Will."

At the note of pride in her voice, September glanced up to see Jase staring at her intently. Feeling the flush stain her cheeks, she ducked her head and concentrated on her meal.

"Are you hoping to find your father?" Nell asked September.

"Yes. There’s been a big strike on the Klondike. I think that’s where I’ll find him."

"And if you don’t?"

September looked up to see Jase watching her. "I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far yet."

As Nell stood up to get the apples baking on the fire, she caught the hem of her dress.

"Darn. Not again. I hate sewing."

"I’ll do it," September said easily. "I’m a good seamstress. That’s how I earned my first real money in Skagway."

Jase stiffened. Sewing? He thought she had gone directly to the saloon for a job.

"You wouldn’t mind?" Nell asked.

"Not at all. Bring me a needle and thread after dinner and I’ll have it mended in no time."

After dinner the men sat on a long bench and leaned their backs against the wall, smoking and talking quietly. Nell and September cleared the table and talked and laughed while they washed the dishes. Then, while Nell read a story to Will, September mended Nell’s gown.

When Will was tucked into bed, Nell surprised September.

"I have a bucket of water on the stove, and the barrel ready on the kitchen floor."

"For what?"

"For your bath. It’s the best thing for those aching muscles."

"Who said my muscles are aching?"

"I can tell by the way you walk. Now no arguing." She draped a blanket across one half of the kitchen and winked at her husband.

"You and Jase just keep your eyes on that fire. September and I are going to be busy in the kitchen."

Like two giggling girls, they dashed off to a private corner of the kitchen. While Nell poured warm water over September’s soapy head, they carried on a whispered conversation.

"What in the world are you doing with Jase Conroy?"

"It’s a long story, Nell. But he was the only one willing to risk the trail in this weather, and I finally had earned enough money to buy the supplies I need to find my father."

"Do you know anything about this man?"

September shook her head. "Do you?"

"Only rumors. He knows the wilderness better than anyone in Alaska, I’m told. I’ve heard he’s a hired gun. I’ve also heard he’s a bounty hunter."

September fell silent. Jase had the look of a hunter. And she had seen him handle a gun.

"What does Jack think?"

Nell frowned. "He doesn’t know anything about him either. But he said it doesn’t matter. He thinks Jase Conroy is different from most of the men in this place. He likes Jase. Jack has a good sense about people. If he likes someone, I’m willing to trust his instincts."

September grew quiet while Nell poured another bucket of warm water over her soapy shoulders. It was true that she knew nothing about Jase Conroy. She had put her life, her safety, in the hands of a perfect stranger. But like Jack Brooks, she sensed something good about him. Good or bad, she was committed to this journey and this man.

"Now I’ve worried you," Nell whispered.

"No." September gave her a smile. "You’re a good friend, Nell."

"So are you. You were there when I needed you on the passage from San Francisco."

"Do you miss your home?"

Nell looked away a moment. "Sometimes I miss it so much it hurts. But this is a chance for a new life for Jack and me. I try never to look back."

September stepped from the steamy tub, and Nell wrapped a thick blanket around her.

"While you comb out those tangles, I’ll look for a warm nightdress."

Later, dressed primly in a long white flannel nightgown with a shawl draped about her shoulders, September walked self-consciously toward the fireplace.

"It’s your turn, Jase," Jack said. Seeing the look of surprise on his friend’s face, he added, "It’s the last chance you’ll have for such a luxury for a long time. Go on. Enjoy it."

With a quick glance at September, Jase walked behind the blanket-covered corner and undressed. From her chair in front of the fire, she could hear his long sigh of contentment. Feeling warmer and more comfortable than she had in years, she fought to keep her eyes open.

Jase’s taunting voice shocked her into sudden attention.

"September, want to come over here and scrub my back?"

Her cheeks flamed as Jack and Nell burst into laughter.

"Scrub your own back, Jase Conroy."

"Who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy it so much you’ll climb in here with me."

"Oh." She was so flustered by his deep rumble of laughter, she couldn’t think of a single retort.

When Jase emerged barefoot, wearing only Jack’s tight buckskin pants and no shirt, his friend showed him where he would sleep. Two bedrolls were placed in front of the dying embers of the fire. One for September. One for Jase.