Snow Angel (12 page)

Charlie had mentioned that a group of four men had hired him to take them as far as the Chilkoot Pass, where he would stay and help pack their provisions over the mountain. Once safely over the worst of a very dangerous and oftentimes deadly mountain pass, Charlie would collect his pay and set
up temporary residence in Sheep Camp, where he would pack other miners' supplies over the pass. Back and forth, up and over that mountain again and again. Elizabeth couldn't understand why someone would want to travel all that way, with all the hardships of the trail, never to mine for gold. But she supposed, as Jacko had said, there was more than one way to get rich. Packing just seemed one of the hardest.

Finally, she came to the rough, plank back door of the saloon. Music and the mixed sounds of feminine squealing and deeper male voices could be heard clearly. Elizabeth was no stranger to saloons. She had lived in too many boomtowns to be shocked by very much and had been pulled along with Margaret many times when searching for Henry. She knew that if she acted like a lady, for the most part, she would be treated as one. And besides, she knew most everyone in town. She just hoped someone would hear her banging at the back door. Going into the actual saloon wasn't part of the plan. The fewer people who saw her and learned she was leaving town, the better. It didn't take long before the door swung wide and John Kingly, the owner and barkeep, opened the door with a scowl on his face.

“Who the … Miss Smith? That you?”

Elizabeth stepped quickly into the dimly lit back room. “Yes, Mr. Kingly, it's me.”

“Is the baby comin'? If you're looking for one of the docs, they aren't here.”

“No, no, it's not the baby. I'm looking for Charlie McKay. We weren't able to finish some business at the post, and I was hoping to find him here.”

John looked slightly perplexed, but shrugged and said, “Yeah, Charlie's here. You want me to go and get him?”

“Please, and Mr. Kingly, don't let anyone overhear you telling him who it is, if you please. I wouldn't be here like this if it weren't necessary, but I'm sure you understand that I wouldn't like it to get around.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for comprehension.

He looked around for a moment and then nodded. “Oh, yeah, I see what ya mean. I'll keep it real quiet.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kingly. I'll just wait right here.” She walked over to a tall stool in the storeroom and perched on the edge.

It wasn't but a half minute before Charlie bungled his way into the room. Elizabeth smoothed back the smile that rose to her lips. Charlie was well into his cups and hopefully that would work to her good. Rising, she met him halfway into the room.

“Why, Miss Smith. What a surprise this is!” He shook his head for a minute as if to clear it and then asked, “What you be wantin' with me at an hour like this, and you coming to a saloon? Something happen at the post?”

Elizabeth led him over to the stool as she said all syrupy and sweet, “Why, Mr. McKay, I can't believe you've forgotten already. Didn't you say that if I had trouble I could count on you?”

“Well, course, ma'am, but I didn't expect you to have trouble so soon. What's the problem?”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. If she could get through this next part, she would be well on her way out of Juneau. “Charlie … may I call you that?”

At his distracted nod, she continued, “Do you remember that polished, rather well-groomed looking man at the post yesterday?”

“That peacock? Why, sure I do.” He slapped his thigh in an aggrieved way. “He upset you, I know he did, and so did everyone else in the post watchin' him. He's a no-account, slick weasel, if you ask me, Miss Smith. I'd watch out for that one, yes siree … why—”

Elizabeth interrupted. “You're absolutely right, Charlie. You must be an excellent judge of character to have picked up on that so soon. You see, he's a distant relative of mine and he's trying to convince me—rather persuasively and by force, I'm afraid—to go back with him to Seattle. Charlie, I must tell you, I have gold fever. I only planned to work at the post until spring, till I could join up with a group and go out to the Klondike like everyone else. Charlie, I can't leave Alaska!”

“You? Go to the gold fields in the Yukon? Why, Miss Smith, men twice your size and age tremble at tackling that trail. Only the best and hardiest make it to the Klondike.”

His alarm seemed to be having a sobering effect on the big man. Gazing around, Elizabeth spotted a half-full bottle of whiskey on a shelf and brought it over to him as if he'd just asked her for it. “I understand all that, Charlie. But, you see, I have something that makes up for my lack of size: experience. I've been mining since I was fourteen. I know how to pan and work a sluice or a rocker with the best of them. I'll admit that the journey might be a little hard on me, which is why I came to you. I knew if anyone could get me through that pass and away from that horrid man, it would be you. You know the kind of man he is; he wouldn't have the courage to follow me on a trail like this one. Won't you let me join your group heading out tomorrow? I'm packed and ready.”

Charlie took a long swallow from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared off into space for
a moment, seeming deep in thought. Finally, Elizabeth tried to regain his attention. “Charlie?”

“Huh?” He jerked around and looked at her strangely for a moment. Then finally he nodded his shaggy head. “If you're bent on going, I guess I'd be better than most to see that you get there in one piece. You'll have to pay the same as the others, though, or there'll be trouble with the men. They ain't gonna like having a woman join the group.”

“Of course I'll pay you.” Reaching into her pocket, she took out the necessary bills and handed them to him. He reached awkwardly for the money and rose from the stool. “Meet us in front of the saloon at six sharp.”

Elizabeth gazed at his departing back, feeling excitement mingle with fear at her success. Now to find a place to sleep. Glancing around, she spotted a hammock hanging in the corner and climbed into it. It would do, unless someone kicked her out of it. The motion relaxed her, causing Elizabeth to fall asleep to the brash tinkling of the piano.

* * *

It was still dark the next morning as Elizabeth struggled with her pack and bedroll toward the front of the saloon. Three men were standing there, talking in low voices, their heads together. She stood a small distance away, watching them, undecided what to do. With relief she spotted Charlie coming down the street, leading a pair of loaded pack mules by red harnesses. He didn't look to be much affected by his stint with the whiskey bottle the night before. Dragging her outfit a little closer to the group, she pasted a bright smile on her face and prepared for battle.

The men didn't notice her as they grouped around Charlie, their excited voices affirming that this was indeed the party she had joined. Charlie's face was animated with good humor until he saw her. She saw his smile waver and a pucker form on his forehead.
Oh no, he doesn't even remember,
she thought with sudden panic. Bracing herself, she let her pack drop onto the snowy surface and strode with an almost swaggering quality up to the men.

“Good morning, Charlie. Wouldn't you like to introduce me to our traveling companions? I sure am eager to meet them.”

She smiled her sweetest smile for all the gaping faces around her.

Charlie sputtered, “Well, heck, Miss Smith, I thought I dreamed that. You don't really want to go gold mining in the Yukon, do ya?”

Elizabeth looked up into his broad, perplexed face. With his dark brown hair sticking out from beneath a floppy hat and his equally long, droopy mustache, she thought he resembled a hound dog.

“Yes, I want to go and I will mine for gold.”

She barely resisted the urge to stamp her small, booted foot. “Whether it's with these men or not, I'll let you all decide. But I will go, with or without you.”

She gave him a piercing stare that a mother might give a reluctant child. “You did say that if I needed your help, you would help me. As much as I dislike asking, for I'm as independent as any here”—her gaze swept regally over the men standing in a semicircle around her—“I am asking. Are you taking back your offer to let me hire you? You did accept my payment as I remember, and I thought we had a bargain.”

Charlie cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably at his boots, “Well now, ma'am, you know I'd had me a few drinks last night, and I wasn't thinking as clearly as I might have been. But now I ain't one to go back on my word, no matter what condition I was in when I gave it.” He eyed the group. “As long as these boys here don't mind, I'll let you in with us.”

Had the situation not been so serious, Elizabeth might have laughed at the look of relief on Charlie's face as he passed the burden to the other men in the group. She suppressed the urge, instead turning to stare fiercely into each set of eyes.

While they were talking, a fifth man had joined the group. He was a tall, thin man, garbed entirely in brown, but well-dressed in well-fitting clothes, with an ease about him that seemed almost peace-filled. He stared back at her with a set of steady, solemn eyes that searched her emotions, seeing, for an instant, beneath the facade of bravado. He was introduced by Charlie as William Cleary, a preacher from Colorado. She looked quickly away and caught the stare of two of the other men who, she was startled to realize, were identical twins. She had heard of it before but had never seen such a thing. They were both white-blond, had the palest blue eyes imaginable, and wore the same crooked grins. They looked at her with good-humored curiosity, reaching out at the same time to shake her hand. Giving them a sweet smile, she grasped the hand closest and then the brother's, thinking they wouldn't put up too much fuss at her presence. The last man, a dark half-breed she had seen in the post, didn't bother to conceal the scorn in his eyes. Elizabeth met the insolent stare evenly and lifted her chin before sweeping back around to face Charlie.

“Why don't you talk it over with the group, Charlie. Call me when you've come to your decision. I'd like to get a move on before dawn.” With a toss of her head, she marched over to her outfit and sat down.

The waiting would have been the worst part, except that she could hear almost every word they said.
The fools don't know
how to whisper,
she thought with a tight smile. Charlie and the half-breed wanted her out. She could only thank whatever fate was looking out for her that she'd gotten to Charlie the night before when he'd been drinking, or she would never have gotten this far. The twins were all for having her and argued in her
behalf. They mentioned how nice it would be to have a woman around who could cook for them. Elizabeth tried not to groan. They'd find out the truth on that score soon enough. It was a tie, and they all looked to the preacher for the final vote. Elizabeth had to strain and hold her breath to hear the soft intonation of the stately man. He said something about how he believed her when she said she would go with or without them, and that he would rather take her under their collective wing than leave her to the dangers of a lone trail. She was in the group.

Her elation was too great to fear the road ahead. She was strong and smart and desperate. Those attributes had gotten her through before and would get her through again. They had to.

With a few curt words to her, Charlie lashed her pack onto one of the mules along with the others. “You'll have to carry the bedroll on your back like the others,” he said in a surly voice.

Elizabeth smiled, confident and cocky as she strapped on her pack for the hike to the steamer that would take them to the jump-over town of Dyea. “I wouldn't have it any other way,” she assured him. The temperature was a comfortable 15 degrees, and she could feel the excitement of new adventure in her veins. She wouldn't think of the past or of Cara or Noah or even Ross. She would go forward and carve out a chunk of gold for her future.

* * *

THE TRAIL HAD never seemed so slow or tedious as it had on this trip, Noah thought, as he guided his horse into the barn outside the post. Hurriedly, he checked that the water trough was full and added a little hay from a nearby pile to the feed trough.
Later, he would brush the horse down and give him better feed, but for now, he just couldn't wait. He had to see Elizabeth.

With sheer willpower, he made himself walk calmly to the door of the trading post. His look became puzzled and his steps gradually slowed when he got his first good look at the front of the post. Something wasn't right. The place was dark and it looked deserted. An uneasiness swept over him when he found the door locked. Why would Will lock up the post in the middle of the day? He shuffled his feet uncertainly for a moment. Glancing up at the second story windows, Noah's brow creased. The lacy curtains were open and he could see the bedpost of Will and Cara's bed through one of the squares of paned glass.

Suddenly a thought seized Noah, causing him to spin on a heel and stride down the street. Maybe Cara had had the baby. Maybe Will was having himself a celebration drink at his favorite saloon, The Hawk Eye Saloon.

Noah trudged up the narrow street, past the shacks and the lean-tos, the cabins both well built and ill spent, and the plank buildings, the town's businesses with their gaudily painted storefronts in the harsh afternoon sun. The wind was gusty today, and the town had a busy sound to it that was pleasant only in the sense that he heard it so rarely. His boots rang out on the wooden boards as he climbed the stairs to the swinging doors of the saloon. Tinny music rang out at all hours, giving the place a feeling of revelry, but Noah was disappointed to find it nearly empty. Sidling up to the bar, he motioned to the barkeep.

“What can I get ya, fella?” The barkeep seemed bored and in a talkative mood as he polished his eyeglasses on a white apron.

Noah gave him a half grin. “I was hoping to find Will Collins in here. Maybe celebrating the birth of his first child. I went over to the post and it's locked up tight. Can't figure where else he'd be.”

The man's face suddenly became animated. “Haven't you heard? That pretty little woman they had working for them up and disappeared night before last. Collins had half the town looking for her.”

Noah stood suddenly, numb with disbelief. “What else do you know about this?”

The man shrugged. “I don't know much else.” He was about to turn away when Noah reached his arm across the bar and seized him around the collar. Hauling him halfway over the bar to glare into his face, with teeth gritted, he demanded in low, commanding tones, “Tell me what else you know. Anything.”

The man's face became red as he wheezed. “OK, OK, just put me down. I … I can't breathe.”

Noah dropped him abruptly, and the man collapsed to the bar. He quickly backed away out of Noah's reach. Holding his own throat and taking deep swallows of air, he hurriedly explained, “Collins came through here about ten yesterday morning asking if I knew anything about Miss Smith. I didn't know a thing. Then he asked about some other fellow who had talked to her at the post. I'll tell you, I was glad to say I didn't know him. With the look in Will's eye, he was after blood. Anyway, the only thing I really know is that the girl has been gone two days, no one knows where. Speculation has it that it must have something to do with this character who paid her a visit.”

Noah scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them still. Piercing the man with his eyes, he asked. “You're sure you don't know this man's name? Sure you don't know anything else?”

The man backed away even further. “I'm sure. Hey, what's your name, mister? If Will comes back through here, I'll tell him you passed by.”

Noah's squinted. “You do that. Tell him Noah Wesley is looking for him.”

He saw the man's face whiten as he nodded, but bravery or stupidity must have goaded him on, since he had the nerve to ask. “Aren't you the fellow that lives up on Mt. Juneau? I heard you broke in the Indians around here some years ago. I'm real honored to meet you. Those dirty thieves haven't been near the trouble they could have been for this town if it hadn't been for you.”

Noah scowled. “I didn't ‘break them in,' as you put it, by thinking of them as dirty thieves. They're men and they've known how to survive in this wilderness a lot longer then we have. They deserve our respect.” Noah turned away with barely concealed disgust and strode heavily from the room.

Out in the open air, his heart sank.
God, where is she?

Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, was gone. Something bad had happened to her, and he hadn't arrived soon enough to help. He could barely contain his feelings of frustration and anger.

Suddenly, a great gust of wind swept through the street.
A williwaw,
Noah thought, grasping the saloon's spindly column with one hand and his hat with the other as the force of the sixty-mile-an-hour wind roared its insistence. He remembered holding Elizabeth in another such wind, breathing in
her hair and not wanting to let go even after the wind had died down.

This wind pushed at him, making it nearly impossible to walk toward the trading post and seeming alive with evil intent. It was as if it wanted to stop him from finding her. He didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but he asserted out loud anyway, “You'll not have her.” The gale pushed even harder and then, as he stood his ground, it gradually, slowly lessened. His resolve solidified within him, and he felt his spirit rise up for a fight.

* * *