September's Dream (20 page)

Read September's Dream Online

Authors: Ruth Ryan Langan

BOOK: September's Dream
13.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Carrying a lantern, Nell and Jack climbed the ladder to their loft.

"Good night, friends. Sleep well."

As September removed the shawl, Jase watched her. The firelight made her hair gleam like silver. Through the opaque gown he could make out the slender young figure beneath it. Boldly he studied the soft curves of her breasts and hips, the tiny waist that could easily be encircled by his big hands.

She knelt and opened the bedroll. The firelight made her pale skin gleam like ivory. Her eyes seemed lit by some inner fight. She looked up, almost as if she felt his gaze on her.

It was impossible not to stare at his wide, muscled shoulders. His arms, she thought, looked powerful enough to crush her. The thought did strange things to the pit of her stomach.

"Good night, Jase." She averted her gaze, afraid he could read her mind.

"Night." To cover his feelings, his voice was gruff.

He watched as she pulled the blanket up to her throat. With a little sigh of contentment, she turned toward the fire and closed her eyes.

Jase climbed into his bedroll and lay listening to the sound of her steady breathing. He should be dog-tired. It had been a rotten day. But this evening had been a wonderful surprise. He had expected a hastily prepared meal, some friendly conversation, and a warm, dry place to sleep. But because of September it had taken on a festive air. Jack and Nell and their little boy liked her. That was obvious. In fact, most people liked her. Why not? She was easy to like. Hadn’t she charmed the entire town of Skagway? He could almost like her himself. But his first impression of her on the boat lingered. He had decided she was just another golddigger, out to bilk the poor, unsuspecting miners. Nothing she had done so far had changed his mind. If he could just forget that incident on the boat, and the miner with the sack of gold, he might think she was an innocent thrown into the midst of a pack of wolves. But to him those incidents were proof of what she really was. Besides, look how she had managed to con him into taking her along. There was nothing innocent about her. She was as sly as all the others in Skagway.

His fist clenched as he closed his eyes. She ought to stay here with her friends. Then she’d be out of his hair. Out of his life. He’d talk to her about it in the morning. He’d convince her it was better for her. And definitely better for him.

He rolled over and let out an angry sigh. Then why did he have this empty feeling deep inside when he thought about leaving her behind?

Chapter Sixteen

September drifted on a cloud of contentment. She was a little girl again, and her mother was in the kitchen. She could hear her humming a little tune as she prepared breakfast. Bread was baking, and pork sizzled and snapped over the fire. Her mother’s hand gently shook her.

"September." A hushed, whispered voice. "Time to get rolling."

With a dreamy smile, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t her mother’s beloved face staring down at her.

"Nell. Oh, I was dreaming."

"It must have been a pleasant dream. You looked so happy."

September stood up and shook down her nightdress. "Is it late? Is Jase angry that I’ve held him up?"

"No to both. He’s out seeing to the dogs. Breakfast is ready. And if you dress quickly, he’ll never know you slept late."

Within minutes September had donned the leggings and moccasins. In the warmth of the cabin her clothes felt uncomfortably heavy. Leaving her parka hanging by the fire, she pulled on one of Jase’s flannel shirts and rolled the sleeves above her elbows.

"Let me help with breakfast," she offered when she was dressed.

"No. Sit here and have some coffee. This is your last chance to be pampered for a long time."

September smiled and sank gratefully into a chair.

When the men entered, Jase paused in the doorway to stare at her. It gave him the oddest sensation to see her in his shirt. He felt a rush of heat as his gaze slid over the old worn flannel stretched across her firm breasts.

He walked closer and said in a muted tone, "I’d like to talk to you."

She lifted an eyebrow at the serious look. Shrugging, she followed him across the room.

"I’ve given this a lot of thought, September." He forced himself to stare into those big, trusting eyes. "You don’t belong out there on the trail. I’ve watched you enjoy this luxury. I think you should stay here with Nell and Jack. I’ll pick you up when I return."

He was treating her like a spoiled, pampered child. As if he hadn’t enjoyed that warm bath last night, and the fine meal, she thought with a flash of temper. "And what about my father?"

Jase relaxed. This was going smoother than he had expected. "I’ll ask around. If he’s mining along the Klondike, I’ll find him and tell him where you are."

Her voice turned to ice. "How good of you. And what will I do here while you’re out there searching for my father?"

"You’d be a great help to these people. You can sew, help with Will."

He saw the flames leap before her eyes narrowed. Her voice was low enough that the others couldn’t hear her. But Jase caught every word like a knife thrust.

"And I thought you were a man of your word. I gave you my dog in exchange for this trip. I’ve deliberately kept away from Lucky, allowing you to steal his devotion, so that you’d have a proper lead dog for your team. And this is the thanks I get." She stood up, her hands on her hips. She was so angry he could see the sparks leap at each hissed word. "We made a bargain. And I’m not letting you out of it. I’m going with you to the Klondike, Jase Conroy, and if anybody falls by the wayside, it’ll be you."

With her chin lifted and her back stiff, she walked to the kitchen table and sat down to breakfast.

Jase watched her from across the room. He waited for the fury which never came. He ought to feel anger. He’d just had a tongue lashing from a skinny little woman half his size. Somehow he had known that would be her reaction to his suggestion. He almost laughed aloud. By God she had spunk. And though he wouldn’t admit it, even to himself, he was secretly pleased that she wasn’t quitting.

 

*  *  *

 

"Goodbye, Will." September cradled the little boy in her arms.

His chubby arms were around her neck, his eyes staring somberly into hers. "Goodbye, September. I hope you come back to visit us again real soon."

"I hope so too, love. You be a good boy for your mom and dad."

September set him down and turned to Nell. The two women hugged each other tightly.

"This was such a wonderful surprise, Nell. I can’t thank you enough for all you did."

"We’re the ones who are grateful, September. We could never repay you for what you did for Will and me on the boat coming over."

"You’ve more than repaid me."

"I want you to take this." Nell handed her a small packet.

"What’s this?"

Nell leaned forward. "I noticed that Jase’s shirts are threadbare. These are some needles and thread. Maybe along the trail you can manage some mending."

"Let him mend his own," September sneered. With a shake of her head, she pocketed the little gift. "Thanks, Nell. Even though I don’t intend to do certain people’s mending, it may come in handy." September kissed her cheek, then turned to Jack.

"You have a beautiful family. Stay well."

He took her hand. "You’re always welcome here, September."

From his position beside the team, Jase watched her leavetaking in silence. There was a genuine affection between these people. It appeared that she had made another conquest.

The dogs were restless, waiting for his command. With a last wave of her hand, September settled herself on the sled. At the crack of the whip they bounded forward.

They traveled for over an hour in silence, allowing the team to set the pace. As they crested a hill, Jase slowed the team, then stopped to rest. September slipped from the sled and knelt in a drift.

"Sorry you didn’t stay behind?"

She shot him a black look.

"Jack told me how kind you were to his wife and little boy on the boat. He seems to think you saved his son’s life."

She sat in silence, drawing scenes in the snow with a stick.

Jase’s voice lowered. "That was a nice thing."

She shrugged and stared at the ground.

He wished he were a man of words. But he was more comfortable with silence. Or with the dogs. He could curse them, praise them, tell them his innermost thoughts, and they wouldn’t make him feel awkward and tongue-tied.

"Come on," he said gruffly. "We’ve rested long enough."

With a sigh, September straightened and climbed aboard.

 

*  *  *

 

"We’ll make camp there," Jase said, pointing to a stand of tall evergreens.

"It’s barely dark," she said in surprise.

"I know. But just beyond that peak we’ll be climbing steadily for several days. We’ll need to rest the team before attempting that climb. This may be the last easy day we have for a while."

Easy. Every bone in September’s body protested her movements. They had covered nearly twenty miles. And they had never rested for more than half an hour at a time. On the trail they ate dried meat, just enough to maintain their energy. She looked forward to a hot meal.

While September unloaded the necessary supplies from the sled, Jase built a fire and set up their tent of pelts in a protected spot between the trees. When he picked up his rifle, she unlashed hers from the sled and moved into place beside him.

He turned. "I thought you said you didn’t know how to use that."

"I don’t. I thought you could teach me."

He set down his own rifle and examined hers. She heard his low rumble of laughter and turned to stare at him in surprise.

"My God. It’s a Big Fifty. What are you going to hunt—buffalo?"

At her puzzled frown, he explained patiently, "This is a Sharp’s carbine. A buffalo gun. It’s used for big game."

"Yes. I remember that Aggie said her father could bring down a Kodiak with a single shot."

"If you were to shoot a rabbit with this rifle, you’d blow him clean away. Not to mention what you’d do to yourself."

"I don’t understand."

"This carbine has the kick of a mule. A little thing like you would be knocked ten feet backward if you fired it."

She could feel her anger rising at his jeering laughter. "Are you saying I can’t shoot this rifle?"

"You’re better off not to."

She yanked it from his hand. "If you’d be good enough to show me how to load it, I’ll teach myself how to shoot."

He grinned down at her. She could hear the laughter warm his tone. "September. Take my word for it. You don’t want to shoot this rifle."

"I think I can be the judge of that." She opened the pouch and withdrew a cartridge. "Where does this go?"

Still grinning, he shook his head. "All right. But remember, you asked for it."

Taking the four-inch-long cartridge from her hand, he inserted it. "This is a breech-loading carbine. You put the cartridge here. Now." He handed her the rifle, then placed his hands over hers as she shouldered it. "Notice that you have two triggers." He inhaled the soft woman scent of her and fought the temptation to throw the damned rifle away and take her in his arms. He didn’t want to teach her to shoot. He wanted to make love to her. The thought nearly sent him reeling. "The front is a set trigger. Once it’s cocked, the back one becomes a hair trigger. That means that a simple touch will be enough to fire this gun." His fingers rested gently over hers. Her skin was so soft. "Once you’ve set that front trigger, don’t touch the second unless you’re ready to shoot. Understand?"

She nodded, trying to digest all that he had said. It was hard to concentrate with his arms around her. She hadn’t expected to be so unnerved by the simple touch of him. Every other man’s touch repelled her. Why did Jase have such an effect on her?

In an unconscious movement, she shook her head to clear her mind. Her hair drifted about, then settled like a cloud around her face and shoulders. The ends of her hair kissed his cheek. He pressed his lips to her temple and fought a rush of desire that left him stunned.

He tried for some semblance of sanity. "All right. Set the front trigger."

She did as she was told.

"Now, when you fire this rifle, be prepared to be thrown backward. Understand?"

She gritted her teeth as she set the trigger. "Where should I aim?"

"How about at that branch up there?" He pointed to a tree nearly a hundred feet away.

"Isn’t that pretty far?"

"Not for the Big Fifty."

"All right." She squinted her eyes, pulled the trigger, and was thrown backward in a deafening explosion.

A branch the width of a man’s leg fell to the ground.

September lay in the snow, feeling a dull throb in her shoulder. Fighting to keep a straight face, Jase reached a hand to help her up. She could see the laughter dancing in his eyes.

"I don’t think it’s very funny. I may have broken my shoulder."

"I doubt it’s broken. But I’ll be willing to wager you have a dandy bruise for the next few days."

As she stood up, he fought the desire to wrap her in his arms. If possible, she was even prettier when she was angry. "Want to try again?"

He saw the way she clenched her teeth before nodding.

"You can’t be serious, September." He couldn’t bear to see her hurt, yet she seemed determined to do everything the hard way.

"I said I’d learn to shoot this thing, and I will." Pulling up her hood against the wind, she took a second cartridge from the pouch and loaded the carbine. Setting the front trigger, she aimed, fired, and fell backward into a snowbank.

Her hood slipped from her head. A tangle of ash-blond hair lifted on the breeze. Her eyes were dark with determination. Her cheeks were the color of ripe apples.

Why was he surprised that she was so persistent? This woman was like a dog with a bone. She was never going to give up. He looked at her with new admiration. Pulling her to her feet, he stared down into those flashing eyes. He brushed the snow from her cheek, allowing his touch to linger a moment.

"All right, September. Come on with me. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to find a moose. If we do, I’ll give you the first shot."

September felt a grudging satisfaction. But she firmly hoped they didn’t see anything bigger than a rabbit. She’d already suffered enough punishment for one day.

 

Other books

Almost a Crime by Penny Vincenzi
In Winter's Grip by Brenda Chapman
Transience by Mena, Stevan
Worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs by Mike Resnick, Robert T. Garcia
The Restoration Artist by Lewis Desoto
To Die in Beverly Hills by Gerald Petievich