A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter

by Lauri Robinson

  “Well, don’t worry,” the man said. “Gunther will be here shortly. He’ll keep them at bay.”

  “Who’s Gunther?” Lucky took her arm and steered her toward the stoop.

  “My night watchman,” the merchant explained. “Don’t have much trouble until newbies arrive in town. Then Gunther guards my place all night. I’d be stolen blind otherwise, probably killed, too.”

  Maddie couldn’t help but look up at Lucky. “Still want to make friends with those men?”

  Chapter Five

  Cole didn’t answer Maddie’s smug little remark, nor did he comment on how she befriended Truman while they ate. The two of them chattered nonstop like two long-lost friends. She was something. Ready to shoot one man and then charm the next. Admitting she had a knack of knowing which one to pick—between the good and bad—didn’t make Cole feel any better.

  Gunther arrived during the meal. A huge Alaskan with skin as brown and wrinkled as dried-out leather whom anyone would question going toe-to-toe against. The guard gobbled down a plate of stew and left without grunting out more than three words. Cole felt like doing the same thing—grunting.

  He wasn’t in any better of a mood once he and Maddie entered the cabin again, either. The bed looked smaller than the little settee in his mother’s parlor. He and Maddie would be sleeping on top of each other. Spinning, he grabbed hold of the doorknob.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out,” he answered, wrenching open the door.

  “Are you still mad at me about those men?”

  “No, I never was mad at you,” Cole answered. “Just stay inside. I’ll be back.”

  She rushed past him and plastered herself against the door. “You aren’t leaving.”

  He started to move her aside, but then saw the fear in her eyes. His heart tumbled, landing near his feet. “No, I’m not leaving.” It hurt that she’d think so low of him. He lifted her chin to look her square in the eye. “I wouldn’t leave you here.”

  Her cheeks grew rosy as her gaze fell.

  “I’m just going to check on things. The mules and such.” He released her chin and waited for her to step aside. When she did, he said, “You stay inside where it’s warm. I won’t be long.”

  Truman was outside, smoking his pipe and leaning against the side of his store. Built of huge logs, the building looked as if it would be there through the next two centuries. Likely, it would last longer than the town. He’d seen that before. Towns that used to be but no longer were all along the seashore. There were all sorts of reasons for communities to build up and then empty out just as quickly. Shipyards were like that, too. Not DuMont Shipping, though. That was what he had to remember. Had to focus on.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Truman said, pausing to take several short puffs of his pipe. “Gunther’s in the barn. He can see anyone coming up the road.”

  Cole walked closer and then knocked a clump of dried mud off the side of his boot on a chunk of wood. He had plenty of worries, but they didn’t include the barn or Gunther.

  “I ain’t figured out if you’re a smart man or a fool.”

  Looking up, Cole waited for the other man to continue. It was obvious Truman would as soon as he was done drawing in smoke. Cole considered spinning around and leaving, but didn’t, and he couldn’t say why. Other than he wasn’t ready to be shut in a cabin with Maddie. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on other things, four walls and a ceiling seemed much more intimate than a tent, and that tiny bed had sent desires throbbing in his loins.

  Truman waved his pipe toward the cabin. “That little darling of yours is going to cause a stir. Plenty of men might try to steal her right beneath your nose.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Cole admitted.

  “So,” Truman said questioningly, “are you a smart man or a fool?”

  Cole let his gaze rest on the cabin for a few minutes. He wasn’t exactly sure himself. “Maybe a bit of both, but most of all I’m lucky.” His confidence was as strong as ever—it had just shifted, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

  Truman laughed. “I’d agree.” After a few more puffs on his pipe, he knocked out the embers and sighed heavily. “There are a few women up here, but not wives. The gals up here are looking to make it rich, just like the men. They don’t plan on panning gold, though. They plan on finding it in other places, mainly in men’s pockets. You best keep a close eye on the one you have there.”

  “I plan on it,” Cole answered.

  Truman changed the subject then, started talking about where the most color had been found and a variety of other topics. After more than an hour, when the merchant said he had to turn in, Cole agreed and made his way back to the cabin. The bed hadn’t grown. He and Maddie would still be crowded, but Truman was right—she was as much a sought-after commodity as raisins were. Trig had known that, too, which was why he made Cole promise to look out for her—and return her to Seattle safe and sound.

  Maybe he wasn’t so lucky after all. Downright foolish might be a better description.

  Once inside the cabin, Cole went to the stove to add a log, but a whisper came across the room.

  “Please don’t. It’s plenty warm in here.”

  It was rather toasty. He shut the little cast-iron door and moved to a chair to remove his boots. “You covered the window.”

  “With one of the blankets off the bed,” she answered. “We won’t need it. Don’t really need any of them.”

  “Sleeping in the tent got us accustomed to the cold.” Hot from head to toe—but not because of the woodstove—he crawled onto the bed and stretched out.

  “There’s a blanket at the foot of the bed if you need it.”

  “I’m fine,” he answered, folding his arms beneath his head.

  “Me, too.”

  “Good night.”

  She didn’t reply; instead, the mattress shifted as she rolled onto her side. The cabin still wasn’t dark enough to hide the glimmer of her eyes. “How much gold do you think we’ll find?”

  “As much as we need,” he answered, trying to keep his gaze on the ceiling.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because we won’t stop looking until we do.”

  She went quiet again, before finally asking, “How will we know when we have enough?”

  “We just will,” he said. “Go to sleep now, Maddie. We’ll want to get an early start.”

  He’d thought she had gone to sleep until she asked, “Why’d you let Truman think we’re married?”

  “To keep you safe,” he answered without thought.

  “Thank you.” Then, soft, like a feather falling from the sky, her hand landed on his chest and stayed there long after she whispered, “Night, Lucky.”

  Lady luck did live in his corner, and would continue to. He’d just never known what that meant before, or the penalties she carried. Bringing a woman into the goldfields was one thing, but being responsible for her another.

  Maddie made it easy, though. She was good company and carried her own weight, even when he suggested she let him take care of certain things. Guilt still churned in his stomach for what he’d said to her back on the Mary Jane, about being a weight around his neck. She’d been let down before, left—the fear he’d seen in her eyes earlier proved that, which was a whole different problem. He was the last man who should be responsible for her. He’d left his mother and Rachel when they’d begged him not to, and there was nothing to say he wouldn’t do it again.

  The big logs used to build the cabin hadn’t had time to warm, and as soon as the little stove went cold, so did the darkened space. Chilled, Cole bent down to pull the blankets over both himself and Maddie, and tucked her tight against him when she snuggled closer. He fell asleep then, as if it had been impossible unti
l his arms were around her.

  * * *

  Warm and content, Maddie fought waking up. She’d thought sleeping next to Lucky in a tent on the hard ground, had provided her with hours of wonderful rest, but snuggling in his arms in a soft, comfortable bed, well, she doubted even clouds in heaven could compare. Gliding her hand all the way across his shirt, she grasped his far side, nestling just a bit closer for a few more minutes.

  “It’s time to get up,” he mumbled above her head.

  “I know,” she answered. “I just don’t want to. Not yet.”

  “Well, darling, you don’t have a choice.”

  He moved so quickly, throwing back the covers and sliding off the bed, her head rolled onto a pillow before she had a chance to lift it off his chest. She flipped onto her back, stretching her arms overhead as he pulled the blanket off the window.

  “We need to hit the trail before anyone else,” he said, tossing the blanket at the foot of the bed, “and stay ahead of them.”

  Maddie scooted to the edge of the bed and bent down to pluck out the socks she’d rolled up and stuffed inside each boot last night. That was from habit, to keep unwanted crawlies from sneaking their way in while she slept. It was too cold for crawlies in Alaska, but she couldn’t help from doing such each night. “Are others going toward Whiskey Jack’s claim?”

  Lucky had tugged on his boots and stood from the chair he’d taken. “Can’t say. Truman said he only gave us the directions, but others might try to follow, or just be going that way. It’s upriver.”

  After clipping her socks to her garters, she pulled on her boots and fastened them. “I’ll make up the bed, then get some breakfast fixings from our packs.”

  “No need,” Lucky said. “Truman said to visit his kitchen this morning. He has a few things to send with us for Whiskey Jack.”

  “I hope it’s not much,” she answered, already straightening the covers. “The mules are already packed tight.”

  Lucky let out a chuckle, and she glanced his way, wondering what he found funny. He did that now and again—laughed at something she said as if he knew something she didn’t, like last night when he’d chuckled about not staying in the cabin. It flustered her, and she still didn’t understand what he meant about her not being like other women. It most likely was true, considering she’d never known many women, therefore didn’t know if she was like others or not.

  While she gathered her coat and such, he hauled in an armload of wood, saying it was the neighborly thing to do, replace what they’d used up. Maddie pondered that, as she had many things he’d said or done since the night they’d met. She didn’t know much about being neighborly, or about women—the two days she’d been at Mrs. Smother’s house had been spent doing laundry and scrubbing floors, which hadn’t taught her much—but she had lived around men all her life. However, Lucky wasn’t like any of the men she’d known. He wasn’t gruff or rude, nor did he insist she was wrong all the time.

  Actually, he was gracious in a lot of ways, like now, the way he held the door for her to exit the cabin.

  Breakfast was a noisy affair. Gunther’s two sons joined them for the meal. Truman explained they kept people honest during the day, and considering Gunther was small compared to his sons, Maddie understood how that might happen—keeping people honest. She had to wonder if people actually dared enter the store with these two men sitting next to the door.

  Before long she and Lucky had said their goodbyes and had started up the path leading to the ridge—above the opposite side of town from which they’d entered yesterday. The trail wasn’t as well-worn, and no one appeared to be ahead or behind them. It seemed to take forever for them to top the ridge and start along a narrow trail. “Seems to me,” she said, whilst looking down into the valley where one could see the entire town laid out along the riverbank, “plenty of folks are taking boats upriver. Why didn’t we do that?”

  “Because we have mules,” Lucky answered, “and this is the route Whiskey Jack said to take.” He paused long enough to glance her way. “You getting tired?”

  “No.” She hadn’t meant to sound as if she was complaining, just curious. “How long will it take us?”

  “Truman said the better part of the day.”

  She nodded, glancing back to the river and hoping those folks wouldn’t make better time. Finding the right claim was a lengthy process, and having a crowd searching the same area would make her feel rushed or miss what she was looking for.

  “Keep your eyes on the trail,” Lucky said. “All the miniwaterfalls coming down this mountain are making the ground slick.”

  Maddie was about to say she’d noticed that when the ground disappeared beneath her and she was on her bottom, sliding downhill fast.

  Her stop was so sudden, she screeched at the pain of both arms practically being wrenched from their sockets. Realization hit as she drew in a breath. She was hanging over the edge of the mountain, holding on to nothing but the lead mule’s rope, which was slowly slipping from her grip. Seizing a brief moment, she took in her predicament. Less than five feet on either side of her was solid ground. Rocks and boulders, but all out of reach. Right smack in the middle, where she was, there was nothing below, not for a long way.

  The rope started jerking uncontrollably, which meant the mules were bucking, and holding on grew more difficult by the second. Both arms stretched over her head, and burning from the strain, Maddie squeezed her eyes shut, focusing until she managed to wrap the rope around each wrist. Concentrating again, using all her efforts, she flipped around to face the hillside instead of the nothingness of sky. Mud and water splattered her face, and she couldn’t see the mules above her, just the edge of the ridge that had given way.

  Lucky’s face appeared, peering over the edge, but too far away to reach her. “Don’t let go, Maddie!” he shouted. “Don’t you dare let go.”

  Dare had nothing to do with it. She’d seen what was beneath her. Not much for several yards, then jagged, wicked rocks. Kicking her feet proved the years of water trickling down the hillside had left nothing but wet, slick rocks her boots couldn’t cling to.

  Lucky disappeared and the jarring on her arms eased. She blinked at the water trickling over the edge and bent her head backward as far as her neck allowed, watching the spot as fear set in.

  He was back a moment later. “I’m going to pull you up!” Lucky shouted. “Don’t let go!”

  Claws of panic dug into her throat and prevented any words from forming, and the constant spray of water didn’t allow her to nod. Inside, though, she was screaming, Hurry, please, hurry. Her fingers were tingling, going numb as the rope cut into her wrists, and her shoulders stung from the weight of her body. Her lungs were burning, too, and although she told herself to breathe, it was impossible. The water hitting her face kept stealing her breath. Lucky was gone again, and there was no sensation of moving. Not upward, and she wanted to scream, beg him to pull her up, but that was as impossible as everything else.

  She did start to move then, upward. All of a sudden Lucky was only a few feet away and grabbed hold of her elbows. In a rush, he tugged her over the edge, where he rolled with her, one over the other until they collided with the mountain wall.

  Maddie lay there, gathering her wits and air, and praising the solid ground beneath her. Lucky was untangling the rope from her wrists. She tried to help, but her arms felt heavy and didn’t want to move no matter how hard she attempted to use them.

  He wiped the water from her face then and grasped her shoulders. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Nowhere.” The word burned, and sensation returned to the rest of her body, making her moan. “Everywhere.”

  “Where’s everywhere, darling?” he asked, running both hands down her arms.

  Feeling as if they’d been asleep and awakened by his touch, her arms begin to tingle, as if being po
ked with a million pins and needles. Her entire body started trembling and wouldn’t stop.

  His hands ran over her rib cage and down her legs before he leaned over her again and cupped her cheeks. “Where’s everywhere? I’ve got to know if something is broken.”

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her limbs, her body. Both shoulders ached and her backside stung, but there was no severe pain. “Nothing’s broken.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Remorse hit then, hard and fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  “Shh,” he said, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling,” he whispered.

  Prepared for a reprimand, for she hadn’t been paying as close of attention as the trail demanded, his kindness made her eyes sting. “But I should have—”

  “Hush now,” he said softly.

  He kissed her forehead then; at least that was what it felt like. She’d never been kissed anywhere, so she couldn’t say for sure. His hands grasped her shoulders again and he lifted her into a sitting position. Maddie’s mind was spinning, especially as his arms folded around her as he held her tightly. Hugged her. She’d only been hugged one other time, by Smitty when they’d said their final goodbye. Her chest started burning and it wasn’t just her lungs—it was her heart warming. Her arms, no longer useless, wrapped around Lucky’s waist, held on to him. Held on tighter as water dripped from her eyes. She never cried. Never. Not even when she’d said goodbye to Smitty.

  “Shh,” Lucky whispered again. “It’s all right, darling. You’re safe. Lucky has you.”

  She knew that, and for some unexplainable reason more tears formed, rushing down her cheeks.

  They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms for some time, until her tears ran dry and her breathing returned. The burning in her chest eased, too. Turned into a soft, warm sensation that eventually allowed her to exhale.

  He released his hold, and she let go of him as he leaned back. His grin was as brash and charming as ever. “Feeling better?”