Snowfire

by French, Colleen

  "Shhhh," he hushed, forcing her head against his chest. "You can tell me about it all later. Just tell me if you're all right. Did Taylor hurt you?"

  She shook her head.

  "You could have shot him with one of the guns that were on the floor."

  "I tried. Didn't you hear the shot? But Alexis and Gerta were in the way; I was afraid I would hurt them."

  Alex stroked her tangled chestnut hair, reveling in the sound of her voice. "Is Alexis all right?"

  "She's fine. She went to the kitchen for cookies with Gerta. I was afraid you were hurt." She hesitated. "Should we call the law on Taylor?"

  Alex shook his head. "Never argue with a dog in his own yard. You should know that, Gabrielle. It would be his word against ours. He won't dare come back here tonight." He rubbed at his head and laughed. "Got knocked out cold, didn't I? Some hero." Alex tipped back her chin with his hand, brushing his lips against hers. "What are you going to do with me? I'll never be of any use to you on the Tanana."

  Her eyes widened. "On the Tanana?"

  "Well, that's where we're going, aren't we? I want to show Alexis what real snow looks like."

  She stared at him too startled to speak. "You mean you're . . . we're . . ."

  He kissed her again, pressing his mouth hard against hers. "I mean we've left Richmond for good and my money as well. I gave it all to Mother for the house and the property. I only brought what you left behind. I'm a penniless man"—he grinned—"looking for a wealthy woman."

  "Oh, Alex!" She rested her head against his hard chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" She covered his travel-worn coat with a shower of kisses.

  "It's late. Don't you think we ought to be getting to bed?"

  She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Bed? A few minutes ago you were unconscious, and you're thinking about bed? You should rest."

  "Well—" he lifted an eyebrow—"I was thinking of bed—but not sleep."

  She shook her head, clicking between her teeth. "Bad, bad, bad," she teased. "And what about your daughter?"

  He shrugged. "Gerta had better have our old room open for us. Alexis can sleep in the parlor—otherwise we'll be going elsewhere."

  "In the middle of the night?"

  He leaned to nip at her neck, his breath warm and raspy in her ear. "In the middle of the night. I've waited too long already."

  A shiver of desire tickled at Gabrielle's spine, and she backed up, holding him at arm's length. "All right, all right. I'll find Gerta. You see if you can straighten up that room. I think we broke a few things."

  An hour later Gabrielle and Alex had tucked Alexis in on the settee in the parlor of their hotel room and had retreated to the bedroom. It was the same room they had occupied before. Alex closed the door quietly, leaning against it, a broad smile playing on his lips. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to leave Richmond behind. I thought I belonged there, but I don't. All I could think of the entire time I was there was the river and the sound of the ice breaking." He shrugged. "Silly?"

  Gabrielle drew the crimson drapes on the windows. "No," she murmured, turning to him. "Not at all. I see the snow." She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply. "I smell the cold air; I hear the ptarmigan's call." She lifted her dark lashes. "I hear your voice calling me in the forest."

  Alex came to her, wrapping her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. "All I want is for you to be happy. No more gold mining; I know how you feel about that. We'll build a trading post again if you want."

  Her fingers worked nimbly at the buttons of his shirt "I bought some dogs, some supplies, too. I was going to build a new cabin, close to Forty Mile, maybe." She pushed aside the shirt, running a palm over the hard muscles of his chest.

  "Forty Mile sounds good to me." He brought his mouth down hard on hers, and she leaned into him, parting her lips to taste of him.

  She withdrew hesitantly. "Tell me something," she whispered as he pressed his lips to the leaping pulse at the base of her neck.

  "Yes," he answered. "Anything."

  "What . . . what took you so long? If you were coming, you should have been here days ago." She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  With a single motion Alex swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. "Alexis was sick, in San Francisco."

  "Sick?" She lifted her head off the pillow, laying her hand on his chest.

  He smiled, pulling her sweater over her head and then stretching out beside her. "Just a fever, an ague the doctor called it." He reached out to fondle a rounded breast possessively.

  "But she's all right now?" There was a warmth beginning to spread from Alex's hand to her breast, to every limb on her body.

  "She's all right now," he answered, lowering his mouth to the bud of her breast.

  Gabrielle's eyes drifted shut, and she moaned softly. "It's been too long. I've missed you so much," she breathed. "I've missed this."

  Alex teased her nipple with the tip of his tongue, coaxing it into a hard nub, then moved to the other breast. He could feel Gabrielle's hands on his back, caressing his tired muscles, washing away the pain of separation and uncertainty.

  Sitting up to take in her dark eyes, he shrugged off his shirt and pants, then got on his knees to tug at her pants. She smiled up at him, reaching with a hand to stroke his cheek. When he had removed the last of her clothing, she put her arms out to him, inviting him to stretch out over her. She needed to feel every inch of his body against hers; she needed to know this was real.

  "You're so beautiful," Alex whispered, kissing the bridge of her nose. He laced his fingers through her thick rich hair, moving his hips provocatively against her.

  The force of his hard, bulging loins against her bare leg made her light-headed. She lifted her hips with his, matching his rhythm as she accepted his mouth greedily. Completely aroused, she moaned softly in his ear, stroking his firm buttocks. Showering her face with kisses, Alex made his way down her body, his tongue teasing her flesh until she quivered with desire. But still he taunted her, reveling in the sound of her rapid breathing and the soft whispers of encouragement that escaped her throat.

  "Alex, please." She shuddered, reaching to take his shoulders and guide him over her. Parting her legs, she cried out with relief when he took her with one long, hard stroke. He buried his face in her hair, taking in the scent that clung to her damp skin.

  "I love you, Gabrielle LeBeau," he whispered, moving slowly. "I will love you for this time and the next."

  Gabrielle opened her eyes, heavy-lidded with wanton desire. "You really do, don't you?"

  He brushed his lips against hers in a feather-light kiss. "I really do," he answered. "More than you'll ever know."

  Her eyes drifted shut. "Then show me," she murmured. "Show me, Alex."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The following morning, after a picnic breakfast on the bed, Alex left Gabrielle and Alexis in the hotel and went down to the docks to secure passage for them on the next steamer headed for St. Michaels. He'd decided he should report Lucas Taylor to the authorities, but out of fear for her mother's life, Gabrielle had insisted he not go.

  "Let's just leave," she had begged. "He won't follow us into the territory again, not with that bum leg of his. He'd never make it, and he's smart enough not to try."

  "What if he sends someone after you again? If he can reach as far as Richmond, don't you think he could send another of his henchmen after you in Alaska?"

  Gabrielle shook her head emphatically, taking Alex's hands. "Please. Let's just go. If someone comes after us, we'll deal with it when the time comes. I'm afraid for Alice, okay?"

  He tenderly brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. "Okay. But you two stay right here until I get back." Pressing a kiss to the top of Alexis's blond head, he had left them.

  Returning at noon, Alex banged on the hotel room door. "It's me, Alex, let me in Gabrielle."

  She unlocked the door and
swung it open. "I was worried about you; where've you been?"

  He stepped in the door, his arms burdened with boxes.

  She rolled her eyes. "Not more clothes?"

  He dropped the parcels on the settee. "Well, look at you." He motioned to her men's flannel pants and bulky sweater. "This is no way for a lady of your means to be traveling."

  Gabrielle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You telling me you don't like the way I dress, Mr. Alexander?"

  He laughed, taking her in his arms. "I love you just the way you are, but for sentimental reasons, I couldn't resist the gown in the box." He turned to Alexis who stood in the door in a wrinkled blue smock with Mister Ballentine in her arms. "And there's something for you, too, sweet."

  Alexis dropped the puppy on the floor and clapped her hands, bouncing up and down. "For me! What is it? What is it, Papa?"

  Alex led his women by the hand to the pile of boxes on the settee and pulled off the lid of the largest of the bunch.

  Gabrielle laughed, digging into the box to remove the woman's forest-green brocade gown. "I can't believe it; it looks almost like the one I was wearing when I met you."

  "Almost, but not quite. No more black for you. There's a bonnet and gloves here, too." He brushed his lips against hers and then reached for another box. "And this is for you, Miss Alexis, and it was harder to find than Gabrielle's present."

  Alexis pried the lid off the box and dug into it, wrinkling her nose as she pulled out a small pair of grey flannel pants and a thick wool sweater. "It's not a frock. . . ."

  "Nope. It's not, because where we're going young ladies won't be much in need of frocks." He tweaked the end of her nose, and she laughed.

  "I'm going to look just like Gabrielle then, huh?"

  Her father nodded. "Just like her."

  Gabrielle rested her hand on his. "Thank you. It was a nice surprise."

  "And that's not the best surprise." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I found a steamer leaving this afternoon."

  "This afternoon?" Gabrielle's dark eyes widened with disbelief. "How?"

  "Well, don't get too excited. I booked us passage on a steamer to Vancouver, then we'll be taking a sloop to St. Michaels." He shrugged. "Not great traveling, but I thought you wanted to get out of here."

  "I do."

  "Do you. . ." he paused. "Do you want to say goodbye to Alice?"

  She turned away. "No. Our last words were enough for me. Besides, I think she'd be safer if I stayed away."

  "All right, then." He turned to face Alexis. "Well, ladies, let's get packed. We've got to get down to the docks."

  "My dogs."

  "They've already been taken care of, and I had Gerta, down at the front desk, find her brother-in-law to have your supplies moved from the warehouse."

  "I can't believe it. How did you accomplish in one morning what I couldn't manage in two weeks?"

  "Simple negotiation." He grinned. "I threatened to break heads down at the shipping office if they didn't find us a steamer today."

  Gabrielle's dark eyes sparkled. "Just the kind of man I need."

  He gave her a wink. "Now come on, let's get moving. Francis will be back with his wagon to pick us up shortly."

  It was mid-afternoon when Alex, Gabrielle and Alexis reached the docks and located the steamer they were to sail on. Standing on the dock, Alex draped his arm over Gabrielle's shoulder, watching the waves of blue-green water break in the harbor. Snow was falling lightly to add to the several inches that already covered the ground.

  Alex brushed a few flakes off the end of Gabrielle's nose, and she laughed. "Feels good, doesn't it?" She put out a gloved hand to catch the flakes.

  "It does," he answered contentedly. "We're ready to go. Got the money?" His blue-grey eyes twinkled with amusement.

  She lifted the cloth satchel she held on her arm and opened it for his inspection. "Sure do." Then she glanced up at him with concern. "Laura. Where's Laura?"

  "What?"

  "My rag doll. Where's Laura? I thought she was in the bag."

  Alex took the bag, searching through it. "You're right, she's not here."

  Gabrielle chewed at her bottom lip, trying to recall the last time she'd seen her rag doll. "Alexis." She turned to the little girl throwing crumbs of bread to the sea gulls on the dock.

  "Yes." Alexis came running, bundled in a warm parka her father had purchased.

  "Alexis, were you playing with my doll at the hotel?"

  Alexis hung her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't allowed."

  "No. It's okay." Gabrielle stooped to be eye level with the child. "You can play with her; you can even have her. It's just that my papa gave her to me, and she's all I have left of him. She's a special doll-baby. Do you know where she is?"

  Alexis grimaced, obviously trying to think. Then her face lit up. "She's under the settee. I was playin' it was a bear cave. Are there bears where we're going?"

  Gabrielle laughed, flooded with relief. "Yes, there are bears. Now go back to feeding your gulls." She went to Alex who was speaking to a man overseeing the loading of the supplies.

  Alex glanced up. "Did Alexis know where Laura was?"

  "Yes. At the hotel. I'm going to get her."

  Alex caught her hand. "Alone? I'll go with you."

  "And what? Drag Alexis all the way there and then back again? You stay here and make sure they load everything that's mine. I don't want to get up there and find we've got no flour or salt."

  "I said no, Gabrielle; it's not safe. Taylor could show up anytime. Wait until I'm done here, and I'll take you." He returned to his conversation with the crewman.

  Gabrielle sighed, walking away. Is this the way it's going to be now, she wondered. Am I never to be free to go anywhere alone again? She glanced back at Alex, who was still engrossed in his conversation. It seemed so silly to stand there and wait on him. Taylor wouldn't dare try anything now that he knew Alex was here. She watched the movement on the steamer; passengers were already boarding. Laura was just a silly old rag doll, but she wasn't going to leave her behind.

  On impulse, Gabrielle went to Alexis, who was on her hands and knees on the dock, coaxing a sea gull to eat bread scraps from her fingers. "Alexis?"

  The little girl looked up, beaming. "Look at 'em all, Gabrielle. Can we take one with us? A friend for Mister Ballentine?" She turned back to the gulls.

  Gabrielle laughed. "No, you cannot take a sea gull with you on the steamer. Now, I want you to do something for me."

  "Yes?"

  "Hold on to the satchel and give it to your father when he's done over there. Tell him I went after Laura and I'll be back in a few minutes. Go ahead and board, and I'll be back directly."

  Alexis's chubby fingers closed around the handle of the satchel. "Sure." She offered another piece of crust to a sea gull, laughing when the bird snatched it from her hand.

  There was so much commotion on the dock between the arriving passengers and the crane loading supplies onto the deck of the vessel that Gabrielle was able to slip away without Alex noticing. It's just silly, she told herself. The St. Lucy is only a few blocks away. I'll be there and back before Alex notices I'm gone.

  More than halfway to the hotel, Gabrielle stopped on the wooden walk, realizing she didn't have her pistol. She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth in indecision. She'd left the weapon in the satchel back at the dock. Should she return to get it? No, she decided. I'll just hurry. If I go back, Alex will insist he come, and we might miss the steamer.

  Reaching the St. Lucy only minutes later, Gabrielle retrieved the key from Gerta and went up to the room she and Alex had occupied. Pulling up her stiff brocade skirts, she got down on her hands and knees to search for her doll. Sure enough, there beneath the settee was Laura with her yarn hair and missing eye.

  "There you are! Almost left behind, weren't you?" Gabrielle hugged the tattered poppet. Stroking the doll's hair, she smiled to herself. This morning, after counting on her fingers, Gabrielle had rea
lized she was probably pregnant. She hadn't told Alex because she knew he wouldn't want her to make the trip north. But as soon as they reached Alaska, she would tell him. Wouldn't he be surprised? Singing a silly ditty of Rouge's to herself, she locked the hotel room door, returned the key and headed for the docks.

  Drawing in a deep breath of the crisp, salt air, Gabrielle went down King's Street and onto Water Street. The snow muffled the sound of her feet as she hurried, anxious to be safe in Alex's arms again. Turning the corner of the winding street, she looked up at the warehouses looming above, casting shadows on the rutted street. Feeling uncomfortable, Gabrielle walked faster, clutching her rag doll to her bodice. Was that the sound of footsteps behind her?

  She spun around but saw no one. Turning back, she paused to think. Was she being paranoid because this was the street that Taylor had tracked her on more than a year ago? She glanced behind her again, wishing desperately that she had returned to get that pistol. She saw nothing.

  Lifting her skirts, she hurried along the wooden walk built next to a warehouse. She heard nothing but the sound of her own feet and the sound of her own rapid breathing. A board creaked behind her, startling her, and she spun around.

  Lucas Taylor stepped through the door of the warehouse. He held a gleaming pistol in one hand, his gilded cane in the other. He was dressed handsomely in a dark overcoat and a charcoal-grey bowler hat.

  "So," Gabrielle breathed. "I'm not to escape you."

  He grinned, bearing even white teeth. "I said I would find you. You have a debt left unpaid."

  "I owe you nothing," she said through clenched teeth. Oddly enough, she was not frightened. The anticipation, the fear of when he would appear had been worse.

  "Don't owe me?" He laughed grimly. "The exchange is simple. Your life for my leg."

  Gabrielle lifted her arms in surrender. "So shoot me." She forced a genteel smile.

  Taylor's brow creased. This was not quite the way he had expected this to go. All of the months he lay in that stinking cabin waiting for the stump of his leg to heal, he had imagined what it would be like to murder this woman. He had expected pleading words, tears, wild promises, but never this cold, hard acceptance.