At the Rainbow's End (31 page)

Kevin slipped on the ice, bringing a blast of laughter from all sides. Her motion had been forceful enough to knock him off his feet. Busying herself with lifting the scarf into place, she saw Joel offer his hand to his partner. She turned away. Whether Kevin accepted the aid or not, she did not know.

“All set?” she heard through the muffling folds of material.

“Yes,” she said, then nodded when she realized Joel would not be able to understand her.

His wave told the group that the sled from Fifteen Above was ready to begin the challenging course he had gone over with the other drivers. He glanced at their competition. Bemis from Sixteen Above sat in the sled driven by Burroughs. Comeau, the slightest partner of Twenty Above, was nearly lost in the huge sled driven by Finnegan.

Both banks of the creek were crowded with eager observers. Samantha spotted Kevin standing right above the starting line to the left. Pulling the scarf down, she cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled, “Have cocoa ready when we return.”

Joel shouted, “To hell with cocoa. Have whiskey poured!”

Laughter rippled along the shore as their words were repeated to those who could not hear through their thick clothes. Samantha pulled the scarf up again. Anticipation was thick in the air as the starter raised his rifle. For an eternal second, the only sound was the moan of the wind through the branches of the pine trees.

The gun fired.

The dogs yapped in contagious eagerness. Three sleds shot forward at the shouted commands of their drivers. Surefooted, the teams sped along the river, toward where they could reach the snow-covered bank through a gap in the sluices and steep hillsides.

Samantha clung to the sides of the sled, fearing at every moment it would tip over and careen into the path of one of their pursuers. She dared not exult as Joel left the others behind them. The trip was a long one. The leader at the beginning might be the last when the race was through.

Slowly she began to relax and enjoy the speed. When she had ridden with Joel before, they had not gone this fast. She recognized the pattern of the claims without looking for the cabins. The thick odor of greenwood smoke clung to the ice on the river, growing stronger each time they approached a claim.

She laughed and waved as Liberty's sled passed them. To be with friends again was a delight. With five dogs, he had an advantage, but she doubted if even his dogs could match the ones racing in the traces of her sled.

This fun lasted through the first half of the race. By the time they reached the outermost point on the long journey, though, the sleds were no longer in sight of each other. Somewhere in the distance ahead, Liberty led. They had not seen the contestants from Twenty Above since an hour after they started. Whether Comeau and Finnegan continued, they could not know.

A film covered the sun when Joel called for a halt. She reached for the packets of food they had stored by her feet for the midday meal, but he took only two of those packed for the dogs.

“Only two? They must be hungry,” she urged, starting to stand.

His hand held her in the seat. “We aren't stopping, Sam, except to give them this. We'll eat ours on the run.”

“Why? What's wrong?”

“Look!” He pointed to the sky. “Blizzard clouds coming in.”

She repeated the words silently. They were out beyond the farthest claim. She understood why Joel rationed the dogs. It might be long before they could get more food. In such a storm, they could be marooned until they starved or froze to death. Her hands clenched in fear.

“Don't look so glum,” he ordered in a lighter tone as he quickly fed the dogs. He would not meet her worried eyes, for he did not want her to see the same expression in his. “It isn't far to the first claim on this tributary. We'll be able to stay there until it passes.”

“If we don't reach it …?”

He shook his head as he walked to the back of the sled. “Don't think about that, Sam. We will.” As he watched the dogs finish devouring their food, he yelled, “Let's go.”

At the shouted order, Bear began to pull the sled as Joel guided it back in the direction they had come. The animals seemed to sense the desperation of the situation. Their happy barking now vanished, they struggled to pull their burden as quickly as they could. Joel ran alongside, to save the dog's energy.

If they had been running in front of the storm, they might have reached safety before it struck. Instead, their path cut directly across the oncoming clouds. The golden sunlight became gray, washing the color from the hillsides. Before they had traveled more than half an hour, a few timid snowflakes spiraled down to rest in pristine perfection on the dark blankets around Samantha. Within minutes, that gentle fall had been replaced by biting raging snow and wind.

Even though her scarf was raised over his nose and her parka hood low across her forehead, the part of her skin that bared was slashed at by snow and miniature knives of ice. She bent forward to bow her head to the cold. Each breath burned in her chest. She wondered how Joel could manage to continue running beside the sled. Snow on the ice was slowing them.

Nestling into the blankets, she closed her eyes to protect them from the wind slicing through the tightly woven wool. She drew her knees up in the confining sled, wanting her feet closer to the warmth of her body. They ached with the cold.

Curled in a ball, she began to feel a bit of relief from the storm and she smiled. The hypnotic tranquil sound of the runners on the ice brought back memories of other rides, in the days before she lost her childhood dreams of “happily ever after.”

Maybe those dreams were not so impossible. She conjured up a future with Joel, far from this desolate land. A home, a family, a life together to express the love they treasured. The rush of the wind became organ music, and she was transported to her Ohio church. She wore the pink dress hidden in the bag beneath the bed in the loft. On her upswept hair was the misty hint of a veil crowned with orange blossoms. In her hand, she held roses. Their softly heady scent filled her senses. Reaching out her hand to Joel, she felt him place a wedding band on her finger …

“Sam?” he asked over the swell of music at the end of the ceremony which made them man and wife.

“I love you,” she whispered, knowing it no longer had to be kept a secret.

“Sam?” The voice was more urgent, but she simply smiled. She knew what her beloved husband wanted. The same as she did. A chance to express their sweet, warm love.

“Soon, my love,” she tried to say, but her mouth refused to work correctly.

Fear spiraled through her as she spoke again. The same thing happened. No sound answered her efforts. From a thousand miles away, she could hear a curse, but did not know where it came from. She knew she could not answer. It was easier to float in her dreams.

Gloved hands shook her vigorously. She looked up, but her head weighed too much for her neck. Closing her eyes, she let it drop forward again. She felt warmer when she did not see the white curtain of snow eclipsing everything in view.

Shaken harder, she moaned. She imagined bating away the hands tormenting her, but the effort to attempt it proved too much. All she wanted was sleep. She was so tired, and it felt so lusciously warm to dream away the storm.

“Sam! Sam! Honey, wake up!”

“Hmm,” she murmured before her eyelids drooped again. For the first time in months, she felt warm.

The slap of a hand against her frozen skin shattered her stupor. The hand struck her again and again. She cried out. She managed to lift her arms to block the blows. Opening her eyes, she regarded Joel with surprise.

Every hair on his face was frosted with ice and snow. His skin had been pitted by the wind driven particles. When she saw he stood over her with his coat open, she found the strength to cry, “Why are you unbuttoned? Do you want to freeze to death?”

Not answering, he lifted her carefully from the sled and placed her in the snow. Her legs would not support her, and she clutched his shoulders. He undid her parka as well, brushing off snow, then opened it and pressed her against the warmth of his body. He held his own coat closed around her.

Slowly revitalizing, she was soon awake enough to understand what had almost happened to her. The gentle slipping into oblivion had not been leading to bliss, but to death by freezing.

When he felt her arms slide up to stroke his back, he smiled with relief. To be sure, he yelled over the roar of the wind, “Sam, are you awake?”

“Yes!” she shouted back.

“We can't get home in this storm. I'm lost, and the dogs have been running aimless. They can't find the scent of our route.”

“Lost?” The word exploded out of her, ripping away the last seductive strands of sleep.

He bent, directly facing her. Their mingled breaths congealed in the air between them. “Not truly lost. I know we're on the same tributary. I'm just not exactly sure how far we have to go to reach the river. I do know we can't go on much longer.”

“If we stay out here, we'll freeze.”

He ordered her to close her coat. While he closed his own, he explained what they would do. Like the natives of this land, they would build a shelter with the snow and branches of the overhanging trees. With the sled to block the wind, they could huddle together until the wind abated. When the sun rose tomorrow, they should be able to find their way back to Fifteen Above.

Although her legs ached with the hours of riding in the sled, she helped him gather the primitive materials he needed. She was careful never to wander too far. As she worked, she kept the dark shadow of the sled in sight. While he stacked the branches to his satisfaction, she gathered their limited supplies from the sled.

Carrying blankets and the remaining packages of food into the waist high shelter, she spread the blankets on the floor except by the one spot where Joel had gouged a hole in the permafrost. Stones sat there, and she suspected he planned a fire. He followed her in after releasing the dogs.

When he pulled the sled at an angle across the door, she gasped, “What about the dogs?”

“They want to stay outside,” he answered with an exhausted sigh. “With their thick fur, they don't seem bothered by the wind. I'll check them before we sleep. Now, let me get some heat in here.”

Samantha had been afraid the fire would melt their roof, but the low flame faded quickly into smoky embers. Its slight heat did not penetrate her heavy clothes, but did vanquish the most vicious waves of wind penetrating their walls.

She pulled her knees tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to make herself comfortable. When she heard Joel speak, she looked up in surprise at his joshing tone.

“What did you say?”

He laughed at her astonishment. Pushing back the heavy hood of his coat, he crossed his arms on his knees and smiled at her. “I said it's a damn shame we missed out on both the shovel and your cake. It smelled ambrosial when you took it out of the oven.”

“You like everything I cook,” she retorted, allowing his humor to ease the tight bonds encircling her chest. She always could depend on Joel to see her fears and soothe them.

“I like everything you do.”

The glow of desire in his eyes shocked her. They were struggling with the deadly forces beyond their shelter to survive. How could he be thinking of love? In a shaking voice, she said, “I don't think this is the time for discussing that.”

“Don't be frightened, my love,” he murmured. He tilted her head back so he could see her eyes dim with fear. Longing to return the bright light of happiness to them, he smiled roguishly. “My love. That sounds so sweet. This escapade isn't without its advantages. We
are
alone.”

She smiled and brushed a nagging lock of hair from his eyes. “And it is less than 45 degrees below zero beyond these walls of snow. I think you're mad, Joel Gilchrist!”

“I am. I'm mad with longing to hold you. I want to feel the fire of your love melting all the cold around us.” When he lowered his head toward her, she welcomed him with lips which would never be cold for him, and her breathing inflamed his desire for the pleasure they could know only with each other.

She forgot her fears that they might not live to see the dawn. If they were to die, she wanted to taste once more the succulent fruits of this precious love. As his mouth moved along her cheeks, the stiffness of his mustache scratched her skin, but her hunger erased the discomfort. She sensed the same uncontrollable passion building in him when he held her against the blankets. The iron bar of his arm beneath her tightened as he lifted the hem of her skirts. She did not feel the wind as his tongue led hers in a feverish dance of love.

Impatiently ripping off her gloves and tossing them aside, she reached for the buttons at the waist of his denims. He moaned into her mouth as her questing fingers caressed him while she completed her task.

He growled her name into her ear, pinning her to the blanket. A satisfied cry erupted from her lips when the first swell of joy was swallowed by escalating ecstasy. The months of longing to be in his arms again vanished as the fire of his love melted her. She became the rhythm of their movements. The heat of his breath on her face matched the pulse beating wildly in her ears. When he whispered her name at the moment of perfection, she dissolved into a pool of rapture. She dove into its depths, carrying the wondrous thought that the man she loved joined her, drowning in love.

“Sam, I'm sorry.” Samantha opened her eyes. Dazed with pleasure, she tried to bring Joel's face into focus.

“Sorry?” She could not imagine what could be wrong. True, the cold would soon sift back into their bodies. For now, though, she clung to heaven.

His tender hands smoothed her skirts. “Honey, that wasn't how I planned to love you when we were alone again. But, it's been so long since I held you. I—”