Beth felt a wave of shame wash over her, for the implication in his words that she was no better than she should be for consorting with a man like Theo. But the doctor said nothing more, and cleaned the wound with swabs, then began probing into it. Theo regained consciousness once and struggled to get up, but fortunately passed out again.
‘There we are!’ said Dr Chase, jubilantly holding up the bullet in the jaws of his pincers. ‘It hadn’t gone in too far, luckily for him. But he’s going to need good nursing to recover. Bullets are easy enough to extract; the real problem comes when infections move in. Are you up to that nursing, Miss Bolton?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said without any hesitation.
‘I shall stitch him up, and he can stay here tonight. Tomorrow I’ll get someone with a cart to bring him to your cabin. I’ll give you instructions then as to his diet. He has lost a lot of blood and it will take him a while to recover his strength.’
‘Why did you help me?’ Theo asked the following evening.
The doctor had brought him round to the cabin that morning, and the two men with him had lifted him on to the bed. Theo had been given something for the pain, and that made him sleep most of the day. Beth had made a pot of beef tea as the doctor ordered, and she was stirring it on the stove when Theo spoke.
‘Because I didn’t see Dolly the whore rushing to your aid,’ she said waspishly. ‘But if you would rather go there and lie in her flea-ridden bed, you only have to ask.’
‘I would much rather be with you,’ he said, his voice very weak. ‘You are the only woman I’ve ever really loved.’
Beth felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she bit them back. ‘I’ll take care of you for old times’ sake, but don’t count on me long-term, Theo.’
Theo was in a great deal of pain for the first few days. Dr Chase came by to change the dressings daily and said he was pleased to see no sign of any infection, but showed no sympathy for Theo.
‘You’re lucky you aren’t dead,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’ve got patients who have become sick through no fault of their own, and they are my priority.’
It appeared that the man who fired the shot had left town, perhaps because he thought he’d killed Theo, and feared he would be charged with murder. All Theo would say on the subject was that he deserved what he got. Beth took that to mean he had swindled the man.
She passed the days by reading to him and passing on any gossip, and in truth she was glad to be inside in the warm with him. Jack or Sam took over on nights when she had to play.
It was ten days after the shooting before Jefferson spoke to her about it. He hadn’t come into Clancy’s saloon in all that time, and she hadn’t seen him around the town either. But suddenly there he was in the crowd watching her play, smiling that lazy, seductive smile that made her pulse speed up.
‘Have a drink with me?’ he said as she got down from the little stage.
‘I’ve got to get back,’ she said, dying to ask him where he’d been all this time, but knowing that wasn’t a smart thing to do.
‘Nursing duties?’ he said, lifting one eyebrow. ‘What does the Earl do for you that warrants such tender care? I heard you slung him out after our night together?’
‘We go back a long way,’ she said. ‘I don’t turn friends away when they need help.’
He put a glass of rum in her hand. ‘And when he’s recovered?’
Beth shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s up to him.’
‘By that I take it you will fit into his plans? If he goes back to Dolly, you’ll be free; if not, you’ll be tied to him?’
‘Look, I don’t know, Jefferson,’ she said in irritation. ‘When I took him in to nurse him it was because of our past, just as I would take care of Jack if something happened to him. I can’t think beyond that right now and I don’t understand why you are questioning me about it. You didn’t even drop by to see how I was when you heard I’d chucked him out, so why should you care now?’
‘Because I like you and he’ll bring you down.’
‘He’s not that different from you,’ she said indignantly.
‘That’s why I know how it will end.’
Beth sighed, drank down her rum and picked up her fiddle case ready to leave. ‘Then I hope you’ll have someone who will take care of you if you get shot,’ she said crisply. ‘Goodnight, Jefferson. It was nice while it lasted.’
She thought he would come after her; after all, on their night together he had said he wanted her as his girl. But perhaps that was just part of his patter and all he’d really been looking for was another conquest.
‘I’ve been a blithering idiot,’ Theo said a few days later. He was up and about now, though he couldn’t do anything strenuous; even dressing himself had to be done carefully and slowly.
‘What brought you round to that startling conclusion?’ she asked.
‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ he said reproachfully. ‘I’m trying to make you see I do value you. I always did, but the thing that makes me saddest is the distance between us now, when we were once so close. I know it was me who caused it. But I don’t know how to get you back where you used to be.’
‘I don’t know either,’ she said sadly. ‘Sometimes I think it’s this town full of people with only gold on their minds. It’s affected us all. Even Jack, who spends all his spare time helping people, can’t wait to take off on the trail. It’s like a disease.’
‘Maybe the only cure for it is to take that trail then,’ Theo said.
‘You won’t be strong enough for that for some time.’
‘A month should do it. But the real question is whether you want me with you.’
‘Of course I do, Theo! Maybe I don’t adore you blindly the way I used to, but I still love you. If you would just be more honest!’
‘Honesty didn’t bother you with Soapy,’ he said. ‘He’s far more dishonest than me, he’s a liar, a thief, a swindler, and no doubt he’s had people killed too, though I doubt he dirtied his own hands with that.’
‘At least he was there when I needed someone,’ Beth snapped. ‘I didn’t see Dog-faced Dolly rushing to your aid.’
∗
‘That’s it then, sis,’ Sam said as he took the last sack of their supplies out of the cabin and loaded it on to the hired cart that would take it the three miles to Dyea and on to the start of the Chilkoot Trail. ‘Say goodbye to the cabin. I doubt we’ll come back this way.’
Theo was sitting up on the cart. His shoulder had healed well, but the weeks of inactivity and good food had made him gain weight, giving him a flabby look. Jack, in contrast, was very lean, for he’d been working six days a week building houses, shops and cabins. This was to ensure they had enough money to pay the Indian packers to carry their goods to the top of the Pass.
Along with the compulsory ton of provisions to be allowed into Canada, carpentry tools were needed to build a boat at Lake Bennett, a shovel, sledge, stove, tent, bedding and many other essential items. As most men could only carry fifty pounds on their backs up the trail, this meant that if they didn’t hire Indian packers they would have to make dozens of trips up and down, which could in effect take three months to complete.
The vast majority of their fellow gold seekers had no choice but to do that, for the packer’s price per load was exorbitant. But Theo wasn’t strong enough to carry more than a few pounds, and neither Sam nor Jack wanted Beth to take heavy loads. With their combined funds they had enough, and they reckoned that what they lost in money would be made up for in time, and being able to take some items that they could sell for a big profit in Dawson City.
‘I have to post this letter home before we leave,’ Beth said, waving an envelope. Just a couple of days earlier they had finally received a letter from England with a photograph of Molly taken on her fourth birthday just before Christmas. Beth had hastily penned a letter back enclosing a picture she and Sam had had taken here in Skagway, and telling Molly and the Langworthys that they were about to leave for
the goldfields.
She had wondered as she wrote it whether people back in England had any idea of what this trip entailed. Beth had a fairly clear idea that it was going to be no picnic, as foresighted Jack had been out to the start of the trail and talked to people who had given up half-way, and what he learned was almost enough to make them abandon the idea.
‘We’ll go on, you catch us up when you’ve posted it,’ Theo called out. ‘But don’t get waylaid!’
It was late March now, and most of the people they’d got to know during the winter had left on either the White Pass or Chilkoot Trail over a month ago. But if all went well Beth knew they’d meet up with them all on the shores of Lake Bennett. The ice on the lake wouldn’t break up till the end of May, so they couldn’t depart before that.
Skagway looked very different now to how it had been when they first arrived. There was a wharf, a church and a hospital, and the main streets were lined with real buildings — shops, saloons, restaurants, hotels, houses and cabins. The roads were still a slick of mud, made worse now as there had been a slight thaw in recent days. But the tent city all around the town was still there. Different tents now, for the old ones had either moved with their owner or been torn apart in gales. Ships disgorged hundreds more gold seekers daily. Some stayed only a short time before making for the trails; others would get sucked into the seedier side of the town, lose all their money and eventually catch a ship home.
Beth was glad to be leaving. She’d had some good times here, but more bad ones. She wouldn’t miss the rowdiness, the filth, the exploiters or the exploited. But she was going to miss the tapping feet and handclapping as she played her fiddle. She would never forget those smiles of pure joy as she lifted her audience away from their worries and cares.
As she passed Clancy’s saloon she smiled when she saw the chalk sign still up announcing ‘Gypsy Queen playing tonight’. Picking up a piece of chalk lying on the ground in front of it, she added: ‘Not tonight, I’m off to the Klondike. See you there.’
Turning away from the sign and still giggling to herself, she saw Jefferson leaning against a crate watching her while he smoked his pipe.
‘So you’re off then?’ he said.
‘Just posting a letter and I’ll catch up with the cart.’
‘Stay and have a drink with me. I’ll take you to catch them up on my horse afterwards.’
She opened her mouth to refuse politely, but as she caught his twinkling eyes she couldn’t resist. ‘For old times’ sake,’ she laughed. ‘But only an hour, not a moment longer, and if you don’t take me then there’ll be trouble.’
‘You post your letter and I’ll have the drinks poured when you get back,’ he said.
As she walked through the door of Clancy’s, he popped a bottle of champagne. ‘I thought I’d give you a good send-off.’ He smiled. ‘It might be the last good thing in months.’
He poured her a glass and leaned on the bar looking at her. ‘You’ll be missed here,’ he said eventually. ‘There’s plenty of pretty girls in town, but few with your spirit or pluck. Maybe I’ll get up to Dawson one day and see how you’re doing. If you haven’t been snapped up by a rich gold miner, I’ll whip you off to San Francisco and make an honest woman of you.’
‘That would be hard for you to do, when you are so dishonest,’ she retorted. ‘Besides, I want to go back to England. I’ve got a little sister that I need to see.’
She took the picture of Molly she’d placed in the inside pocket of her coat for safekeeping, and showed him. Her hair was as long and curly as Beth’s, tied up with two bows, and she was wearing a white frilled pinafore over her dark-coloured dress. She was no longer a baby but a little girl, with round dark eyes and a very serious expression.
‘She looks like you,’ Jefferson said. ‘I guess she’s the kinda kid anyone would want to go home to see. And your folks too. They must miss you.’
‘They’re dead,’ Beth said, and suddenly found herself telling him what had happened. ‘I don’t know why I told you that,’ she finished up, feeling embarrassed. ‘I never tell anyone.’
Jefferson shrugged. ‘It will be getting the picture of her, it brings things back. I’ve got a picture like that.’
‘Of a little girl?’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘A picture of you, taken in here one night. I only collected it a few days ago. It made me think how things might have been, if only—’ He broke off and grinned at her.
‘If only what?’
‘If only I’d been a different kinda man. If only I’d come round to see you after that night and told you how I felt.’
‘How did you feel?’ she whispered.
‘Like I was all brand new again. Like there could be a life without swindling and fast talking. But I guess I wasn’t brave enough to try for it.’
Beth lifted her hand and pinched his cheek tenderly. ‘You were brave enough to tell me now. I’ll tuck that away inside my head and think on it sometimes.’
They talked for a while about the changes in Skagway since she’d arrived, and how it might be in years to come. He asked after Sam and Jack, but didn’t mention Theo.
‘Don’t trust anyone on the climb up the Pass,’ he said suddenly. ‘There’s men up there who look like stampeders, a pack on their back and as dirty as anyone else. They’ll offer you a little kindness, a hot drink or a warm by their fire. But they ain’t real stampeders, they’re con men, and they’ll fleece you.’
She had a strong feeling that these men he spoke of might even be in his pay, but she thanked him for the advice and said it was time she went.
He took her hand as they left the saloon to get his horse from the stable, and the touch of his smooth hand on hers made a tremor run through her.
A man brought the chestnut mare out to him, and as he held it steady, Jefferson stretched out his hand for her foot and helped her up into the saddle. Then, leaping up behind her in one agile movement, he put his arms on either side of her to take the reins.
‘Giddy-up,’ he said, and they cantered down the street, out on to the track to Dyea.
In Skagway, with all its hustle and bustle, the beauty of the scenery all around the town often went unnoticed. But once away from that tumult, with the weak winter sun shining on the turquoise water of the Lynn Canal, and the snow-topped mountains all around, it suddenly came back sharply into focus.
As they jogged along, Jefferson pointed out a couple of seals in the water and a bald eagle perched on a fir tree. Beth couldn’t help wishing that they’d had time before to have a little trip together like this, and really talk.
There were many groups of people trudging along the road to Dyea, some pushing handcarts, their baggage piled high, others using pack mules or horse-drawn carts. Suddenly Beth spotted the boys and their cart up ahead. ‘I think you should leave me here,’ she said. ‘I can soon catch up with them.’
Jefferson jumped down, as lithe as a cat, then, reaching up, he caught her waist and swung her down. But he didn’t let go of her. ‘Farewell, my Gypsy Queen,’ he said. ‘Take good care on that trail, and think of me sometimes.’
He kissed her then, long and hard, holding her as though he never wanted to let her go. Then, breaking away, he leapt back on his horse, wheeled around and galloped off.
Beth stood on the path for a moment or two watching the rear of his chestnut mare, his straight back and black hat, and felt a tiny pang for what might have been.
Chapter Twenty-eight
‘God save us!’ Beth exclaimed as they wearily approached Sheep Camp, the last place they could get firewood or provisions before setting off up the mountain.
They had already endured three days of painfully slow progress as they and a thousand other stampeders hauled their carts and sledges up a pot-holed track from Dyea, which criss-crossed the river several times. Sleet, flurries of snow and the sheer volume of people, carts, dogs and pack animals made the path rutted and treacherous. The hastily improvised bridges were so ramshackle th
at on one occasion they had all ended up to their knees in icy water and had to continue with sodden boots and clothes.
But it wasn’t the sight of hundreds of milling people and animals in this last real camp before climbing up to the summit that caused Beth’s shocked exclamation. She wasn’t even put off by the huddle of primitive shacks, abandoned heavy items like stoves, chairs and trunks, or even the torn tents and the mountains of goods piled up waiting to be moved on.
Her shock was caused by what lay beyond all that.
The Chilkoot Pass. And, more importantly, the climbing it would entail.
Every would-be gold seeker knew the Pass was tough. Back in the saloons of everyone had heard at least a dozen different horror stories from people who had either turned tail and ran when they saw it, or were driven back by bad weather. But hearing about it and seeing it for herself were entirely different.
Sheep Camp was in a hollow at the end of the timber line, encircled by mountains. Beth knew the summit they had to reach was 3,500 feet above Dyea, just four miles above her head if she could have flown straight up there like an eagle. But she wasn’t a bird, and the route they would be taking sent a shudder of fear and awe down her spine.
The mountain appeared to be draped with a continuous winding black ribbon which stood out in sharp relief against the snow. It consisted of climbers, bent over like apes under their heavy backpacks and seemingly motionless. But Beth knew they were moving, for they couldn’t stop; even a momentary pause would snarl up the queue coming up right behind. If anyone did choose to move out of the line to rest, they would never get back into it.
Theo had turned pale and Sam was rubbing his eyes as if unable to believe what he was seeing. Only Jack looked calm and ready to join that fearsome chain in the morning.
‘There are two places to stop,’ he said. He pointed out a giant boulder and said he had been told that climbers could rest a while at the base of it. He then indicated a flat ledge further up and said that was the Scales. ‘That’s where our packers will reweigh our load and probably charge us still more.’
Gypsy Page 32