Snow Angel Part 12

Sincerely yours, Jeremiah Hoglesby.

Private Detective for Hire.

Seventeen.

Dawson City. Nestled in forested hills, it was the noisi est, muddiest, most crowded place Noah had ever seen. The waterfront was packed with every kind of floatable craft imaginable, most for sale, having reached their destination. The beaches were covered with hundreds of tents, flags of the unlucky, unable to get their hands on a claim.

He was dumbfounded, shaking his head in wonder at the extremes. Beggars rubbed shoulders with the newly rich and their fancy clothes and weighted pockets. A man in a pristine suit and bowler hat walked among the crowd, hawking The Palace Grand, boasting it was so large it could sleep 2,200 people, its accommodations so lavish you would forget your wretched journey, its pillows so soft you were guaranteed only dreams of gold. Signs lined the sides of buildings, depicting a variety of amus.e.m.e.nts to waylay the loneliness, giving prospectors reason to spend their gold as fast as they could pan it from the icy streambeds. There were gambling halls and dance halls, such as the Monte Carlo where men could buy a dance for a dollar. On the racier side was an area called Paradise Alley that housed prost.i.tutes in what was called the "Dawson cribs." Noah would have to be sure to steer Elizabeth away from there before her natural curiosity demanded she take a look.

Nicknamed "Paris of the North," Dawson was no ordinary tent town.

Noah knew lonely men were easily drawn to the base entertainments. Those p.r.o.ne to gamble could wager on dogfights, a badger fight, or prize fighting. The resistant could join a social club or pay dearly for a play or local musical evening sponsored by one of the hotels. Dawson could boast a certain amount of culture, and yet it all had bite to it. Dawson City was a gutsy town, made up of the kind of men and woman who dared a man-eating trail to get to it.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?" Elizabeth turned toward him, her eyes dancing with excitement. They were standing in a long line at the Canadian Registry Office to register her a claim. Noah felt the familiar pain in his chest when she smiled at him like that. They'd called a forced truce for the rest of the river journey and hadn't mentioned her circ.u.mstances again, but Noah thought of little else. He hoped it would get easier to breathe once he was away from her and back home. And he could have left her by now, should have, but he just couldn't leave her to that man. He had to be there when Ross came for hera"even though he was afraid of what he might do to him when they came face to face.

After a lengthy wait, they drew up to the window of a tall, thin, balding man with round spectacles who directed his questions to Noah.

"Name?"

"Elizabeth Smith," she answered.

"And your husband's name?" the man asked pointedly.

"He isn't my husband, and I'd like to file a claim in my name, if you please. It's Elizabeth Smith."

"Very well. I'll tell you what I've told the last fifty people. There are no claims left to be had, miss."

Noah watched her face fall.

"Nothing? Nothing at all?"

The man looked genuinely sorry for her as he shook his head, his white bushy eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

She looked down at her hands for a long moment and then back up at the man. Tears glistened in her eyes as she gazed up at him and said in a choked voice, "But I've come so far a I can't just give up. Please, do you know of anything?"

The man was obviously distressed and some sixth sense told Noah to keep quiet. He watched Elizabeth blink hard as a single tear raced down her cheek. The man pulled his pristine white collar away from his throat. Elizabeth just stood there, rooted to the ground gazing at him. Finally, he cleared his throat and fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief. Handing it to her, he leaned down and whispered, "There is a claim that was just vacated. I bought it myself and was planning to sell it to a friend of mine. It's on Bonanza Creek but a I will let you have it for seventy-five dollars."

Elizabeth gasped. "Bonanza Creek? Isn't that where they first struck it rich?"

"Yes ma'am. One of the first places. Like I said, I was saving it for a friend of mine, and he'll likely have my neck if he learns I've sold it, but a if you have the cash, you can own it."

Elizabeth gave the man such a blindingly joyous smile through her tears that he flushed. She quickly pulled out the bills and counted them into the man's palm. There were fifty-four dollars and some change in all. Noah wordlessly added the rest. Elizabeth handed over the money, saying, "Thank you, sir. Thank you."

Noah could only shake his head at her, convinced the man would have done just about anything for a pretty woman in tears. Turning her, he led her away with his hand in the small of her back. Once outside, he turned her around and looked into her sparkling eyes. "Happy?" he asked.

She smiled up at him with elation in her eyes. "I have a claim! Can you believe it? I'm so happy I could do a jig right here in the street." Grasping hold of his upper arm she squeezed it and demanded, "Let's go see it."

"It may not be much," he warned.

"It will be perfect," she returned solidly.

Nothing, not even sound reasoning could daunt her enthusiasm. She was convinced she would strike it rich. He sighed. "All right, let's go have a look."

Number 17 on Bonanza Creek was the standard size of 500 yards and positioned parallel to the stream. It looked as if it had already been dug up, several times in fact, and had the beginnings of a shaft showing in several different places. There were mounds of black earth waiting to be washed and a broken-down lean-to at the top of a rise. Noah thought he could make it into a small one-room cabin if he could find the lumber. People were breaking up their boats for lumber, but Noah didn't want to do that. What he wouldn't give to own a lumber mill in this town.

Elizabeth was busy unpacking. "I know, I know, it doesn't look like much," she said over her shoulder, "but we're really lucky." She pointed toward the muddy water. "See that sandbar?"

Noah walked over to the edge of the gra.s.sy bank and looked at the stream of water before hima"it looked the same as a thousand others he'd seen before, but he didn't say so. "Yes, I see it."

She grinned good-naturedly at his lack of enthusiasm. "Gold collects in spots like that. A bend in the stream, low gravel banks. It's a good sign, very promising."

Noah couldn't resist asking, "If it's such a good claim, why isn't someone already mining it?"

She shrugged, undaunted. "Who knows? It appears that whoever had this claim before didn't know what they were doing. They couldn't decide where to sink the shaft and, in my opinion, should have been concentrating on the streambed."

"Maybe they did that first and, finding nothing, decided to try farther up the bank." He took a heavily packed bedroll out of her hands while he talked and carried it to where he thought he would build their camp. He was still unpacking when, moments later, he heard her squeal.

Running down to the raft, he stopped short in amazement. She had the back hem of her skirt pulled up between her legs and tucked into the front of her waistband, revealing white calves. Her little black boots were completely submerged. Noah made a mental note to buy her some good mukluksa"knee-high, sealskin, waterproof bootsa"next time he went to Dawson. She was swirling a gold-pan. Looking up, a thick wave of black hair hanging in her face, she shouted, "Come see! I've found a nugget."

Noah shook his head and smiled as he sloshed into the river. Standing next to her, he looked into her open palm. There, lying in the middle, was a small, yellowish rock. He raised his eyes to her excited face. "This is it, isn't it?" he asked softly. "This is what you really want." For the first time, it truly sunk in just how much this meant to her.

Her hand closed tightly over the nugget. "Yes," she said fiercely, "this is what I want."

As he stared at her radiant face, he felt the last grains of hope slip away. What was he doing here? Was he going to build her a cabin? He was just making excuses to stay indefinitely. Abruptly, he turned away and walked up the slope to start supper. He had to leave soon. Ross Brandon was her husband, and there wasn't a thing he could do about that.

ELIZABETH WATCHED HIM go, confused. He had been so nice. After that first awful day and night, he had acted like a friend, and she needed a friend. Why did he have to blame her for wanting gold? She was far from the only one. Sighing, she carefully wrapped the nugget in her handkerchief and stuffed it into a pocket in her dress. Bending down, she scooped up some of the sandbar into her pan and started swirling it around and around, just barely submerged in the water, until all the sand and light rock had washed away leaving the heavier rock at the bottom. She poked around at the rocks and debris in the bottom of the pan, searching for golden flakes or, better, nuggets. It was an art, panning, and it had come right back to her. The cold water swished over her reddening hands. The flat, shallow pan, as wide as her hips, grew heavy. She could feel the familiar ache in her back, arms, and neck and knew her whole body would be tired and sore tonight. At least she still had a partner who could cook her a decent supper. She really did need to learn to cook.

By the end of the afternoon, she was weary and feeling a little defeated. It would take her a year to sift through all that sand and dirt alone with a pan. She needed a sluice or at least a rocker to speed up the process. The only problem was, she couldn't operate one alone. Maybe she could persuade Noah to stay until the twins arrived. They didn't know the first thing about mining and would probably be glad to share her claim since she'd likely gotten the only one around. She grimaced inwardly, thinking that then she would have to make them partners, as she couldn't afford to pay them the average dollar-a-day wage for hired help. Hopefully, there would be more than enough wealth to go around.

It was dusk when she finally dragged herself to the camp Noah had set up. The lean-to was repaired and all of her supplies organized underneath it, with her bedroll laid out and ready for sleep. His bedroll lay to the other side, a respectable distance away. Both bedrolls had a pile of gauzy mosquito netting next to them and two tall, whittled sticksa"one at the head and one at the foota"to form the bones of a tent. A brisk fire blazed, and the smell of dinner made her stomach remind her just how hungry hard work made her. Noah ignored her after he handed her a plate of what miners called the three B's: beans, bacon, and bread. But she was too tired to try and sweet-talk him out of his mood. As soon as she finished eating, Elizabeth fell into her bedroll and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

SHE WOKE TO the first threads of daylight and the sounds of Noah packing. Panic a.s.sailed her. "Where a where are you going?"

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "The lean-to is fixed up. You will have to get someone to build a cabin if you plan to stay here all winter, but the lean-to will get you through the summer."

She stepped closer to him, tentatively touching him on the shoulder. When he turned and looked into her eyes, she saw a momentary flash of pain. Then his eyes shuttered and he stated briskly, "I need to get home."

Her arm dropped to her side. What could she say to convince him to stay? In his eyes she was a married woman. She reminded herself why it had to be that way, why she couldn't let him see her true feelings. "Noah, I a" She faltered, not wanting to beg him. "I know you have little interest in gold mining, but couldn't you stay until the twins arrive? I plan to offer them a partnership; but until they get here, I could really use the help."

Noah shook his head. "I can't."

Elizabeth could sense how badly he wanted to say yes. Pressing, she found herself pleading. "It would only be for a few days. I'm sure they are close behind us. And, Noah, you said you wanted to learn how to pan. I could teach you. Then, when you get home, you could prospect your land." She held her breath, waiting.

He looked torn, in anguish. "Elizabeth, you don't know what you're asking. It's killing me a being with you like this."

Raw pain shone from his eyes, making Elizabeth's heart ache. She could not make herself drag him into the mistakes she'd made. Resolved, she took both his hands into hers and pressed her fingers into his palms; even now, torn with so many emotions, the feel of his strong hands making her breathe differently, she willed him to hear her sincerity. "You must go, of course. It was wrong of me to keep you here so long. I'll be fine."

He looked so undecided, so ravaged.

She looked into those clear blue eyes, not as steady or peaceful as when she'd first met him, knowing she was the cause of that. "I'm sorry, Noah. For everything." She had never meant anything more, but the words seemed too little. How did one tell a man he had opened her eyes to a new world? That he had made her see mankind in a new light. That now she had hope for the side of good. A tear rose, unbidden, and she fought it. Now was not the time to soften; she must be firm and resolved for them both.

His jaw flexed and anger blazed from those brilliant blue eyes. "What will you do a when he comes? What will he do, Elizabeth? Will he take you against your will? Will he drag you back to wherever he's from and force a life upon you that steals your soul? Tell me, Elizabeth a what will you do if I leave?"

"I have a gun." The words popped out softly and she hadn't even realized her plan until she said them.

"You'd kill him, then?"

"If I have to. I won't go back with him."

"No. I won't allow you to become a murderess. You couldn't live with ita"not with everything else you're carrying."

She wasn't sure what he meant, but she was sure he believed it. "I can live with it. It would be self-defense and justified."

"Do you think killing a man is that easy? Don't be a fool. He'd likely kill you a or worse." He turned from her and stared at the flowing water of the stream, its peaceful trickling belying the scene it witnessed.

He wrestled with the silence and then, looking up to the sky, he growled out, "You would see me drawn and quartered, then? Stretched out on this rack indefinitely?" He laughed harshly then turned to Elizabeth. "So be it. I'll stay." He swung away from her and stalked out of the camp.

Elizabeth watched him go, feeling wretched. But she couldn't speak; she was too relieved.

After three days of mostly silence from Noah, Elizabeth decided she had to do something to goad him into talking again. She had shown him some basic mining techniques, but he was more interested in working on the lean-to, which was beginning to take the shape of a cabin. She would pan all day, with little results, and he would hunt and build and cook.

After dinner one night, she stood and stretched. "I think I'll take a bath."

Noah scowled. "No, you won't."

Elizabeth ignored him and moved to the lean-to, gathering clean clothes and soap.

He growled at her. "You can't take a bath in that muddy creek with all of these men around. It's crazy. And the water is too cold."

Elizabeth slanted him a coy look. "Call me crazy then. I haven't had a real bath in weeks, and I'm taking one."

She thought if he glared at her any harder his eyes might just pop out.

"Fine. But don't yell for me if you need help. I warned you."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied tartly.

Dipping her toes into the water, she called herself a thousand kinds of stubborn fools. With a sun that now never slept, just faded for a few hours, there was entirely too much day light to guarantee any modesty. And the water was freezing. But she was determined. Stripping down to her drawers, she waded quickly to her waist, teeth chattering, and began soaping herself. She grimaced as she felt the bottom of the creek bed oozing mud and rocks between her toes. Swallowing hard, she tried not to think about what might be in the water, swimming around her bare legs. It was amazing the comfort and sense of security one's boots provided. Redoubling her speed, she bent at the waist and wet her hair, lathering it quickly with soap. Something brushed against her calf, making her shiver. She was just about to scramble out when she heard it: the laugh that haunted her nightmares and sent tingles of alarm along the bony column of her back.

"You didn't really think I would just give up, did you?"

She sank down into the water, covering herself with crossed arms. Teeth chattering, she demanded in a low voice, "Get off my claim, Ross."

He laughed again, low and menacing. "The claim bought with my money? You are sadly mistaken if you think I will leave until I get what I want, my dear."

The cold water numbed all but her fear and anger. She knew anger to be her ally here and latched onto it. "You got what you wanted. What do you think I have left?"

"I want what is rightfully mine, Elizabeth. You cheated me and you will pay for that."

"I'll pay you back the money I took as soon as the claim pays. I don't have anything else to give you." She backed up until the stream reached her neck.

"I think you do. And this time, when I'm finished with you there won't be anything left for that big fellow you are currently with." He eyed her body through the water. "You have been playing the wh.o.r.e, haven't you, Elizabeth? I'll have to find some special way of compensating myself for such used goods." His face hardened with a look that made her stomach twist. He picked up her blouse from the ground and held it in the air. "Get out."

She shook her head in terror. She would freeze to death first, and from the lack of feeling in her legs, she very likely would. "I'll make a deal with you," she blurted out in desperation. "If you will leave me alone, I'll give you half of any gold I find."

His laugh was a wolf's snarl. His eyes, black and deadly, glittered in the pale light. "You don't really think I came all this way for the money, do you? You are more of a fool than I thought, Elizabeth. We have more to settle than that, you and I. Your hasty departure ruined all of my carefully laid plans. You will pay for that, don't ever doubt it. Now, get out."

Marshalling her anger, her hate, she spat, "You will never touch me again. Now, get off my claim." What she wouldn't give for her pistol right now.

"Such bravado from a lone, naked woman. You are not thinking your friend will save you, are you?"

She heard the click of a gun and saw a shiny glint in the pale light as he waved it in the air. "By all means, please, call your precious Noah Wesley. He will come charging to your rescue and right into my hands." He shrugged. "If he persists in hanging around, I'll have to get him out of the way at some point, anyway. Why not now?" The smile was back. He was so confident, so evil, she felt her strength drain away.

He leveled the gun on her. "Get out. We can't have you freezing to death and ruining all my fun, now can we?"

With her chest pounding with fear, she took a step forward.

"Stop!"

Elizabeth felt a rush of relief as she recognized Noah's voice. He had a long rifle pointing mere inches from Ross's back. "Drop it, Ross."

Elizabeth watched as Ross's face changed from leering expectancy to composed rage. Slowly, he lowered the gun to his side.

"Lay it on the ground." Noah's voice was as calm and steady as the gently lapping water. When the gun was on the ground, he said, "Turn around and face me."

Ross turned.

"Now, Elizabeth, get out and get dressed. Go straight to the fire and stay there. I aim to settle this once and for all."

Elizabeth didn't like the sound of that, but she was happy to obey. What would he do? Moving as fast as her frozen limbs could carry her, she reached the bank and her clothes. Quickly, she wrapped the towel around her and scurried through the gra.s.s. Back at the fire, she threw on her clothes then ran to her bedroll, searching wildly beneath it. She firmly grasped the pistol and hurried back to the bank. The tall weeds shielded her from view as she crouched down and strained to hear.

"a I'm telling you now, if you hurt her, I'll see to it that you're behind bars. You don't have any right to treat her that way, even if you are her husband."

Ross laughed low and fearless. "Her husband, eh? Is that what she told you? The little fraud. What is she taking you for? Quite a ride from the looks of things. I never knew what to believe with her either, but her husband? That is a good one." He laughed again. "Don't look so glum, fella. You must have been a prime target for her, living alone in the frozen wilderness like you do. Me? I should have known better. She and I are cut from the same cloth, you know. Did she tell you about us? Probably not everything, and you do want to know, don't you? Let me tell you what she did to me."

Elizabeth's heart hammered harder, shame filling her, as he ruthlessly continued. "She made a bargain with me back in Seattle. Nothing hidden, a straightforward business deal. In return for the favor of her," he stretched out his arms at the great expanse, "Alaskan holiday, she would, shall we say, share my bed until I tired of her. Then she decided to cheat me. She stole all of my money and ran off without even a good-bye. Imagine my heartbreak. I figure she owes me. As for being her husband a ha! What kind of fool would marry a lying, conniving little thief like Elizabeth Dunning?"

Elizabeth's heart wrenched in the long silence that followed.