“Whatever I do,” she added more quietly, “it will be because I decide to do it. Not because someone tells me what to do.”
It was a solemn vow.
Chapter Twenty
“Are you sure you don’t mind taking these shirts in to Mr. Scopes?” asked Mrs. Kellogg.
Samantha grinned. Tightening her coat around her, she balanced the paper wrapped bundle of shirts under one arm while she pulled on her gloves. “No, I don’t mind. He’s a lecher, but I’ve learned how to handle him. Do you have any other errands you need me to do?”
“No, child.” With one of her infrequent smiles, Mrs. Kellogg added, “I’ll miss you when you’re gone back down the Yukon. Not just the work you do, although I have never had anyone who works as hard as you. I wish you’d reconsider, and stay.”
“I can’t. I must go.” Every morning she woke to see the same mountains as she had viewed each day at Fifteen Above. She had to get far away from this rugged land so her heart could heal.
She drew her other glove over her hand and pulled on her thick scarf. Even the old-timers were grousing about the late spring. Spring! It had been more than 40 degrees below zero last night. The river remained unbroken, except for open leads along the fastest currents. The brief spurt of spring during which the partners at Fifteen Above found gold had vanished back into the south. She wondered if something had gone wrong with whatever made the seasons change. It seemed as if they would be in winter for the rest of eternity.
Holding the package close to her chest to help cut the wind blowing from the river, she hunched down in her coat. She watched the ground in front of her feet, only looking up occasionally to be sure she did not bump into anyone.
She stepped cautiously onto the end of the boardwalk. With the midday sun melting the topmost layer of the dirt-encrusted snow, ice often formed on the wood. After a few feet she realized she had made better time on the street, despite pausing to let the loaded sleds pass her. As soon as she came to a cut in the snowbank, she stepped through to the road.
Samantha stopped as if she had run into an invisible wall. Before her, his fur-trimmed hat in his hands and the hood of his parka pushed back to reveal his thick, dark hair, stood Joel Gilchrist. She stared at him, wondering if her dreams had been given life.
“Hello, Sam,” he said.
She did not speak, afraid of what might come from her lips. All she could do was regard him silently. She had not forgotten how brightly his blue eyes glittered in sunshine, or the breadth of his shoulders, yet seeing him now was like meeting him for the first time. In his heavy parka, his knee high boots emphasizing the lean strength of his legs, he was breathtakingly handsome.
When she felt her lips part in soft invitation she clamped them closed. She must not forget what he had said to her last time they stood on a Dawson street. Meeting him here might be no more than a coincidence. If he had wanted to find her, he would have come to Mrs. Kellogg’s laundry. He should have guessed she was there.
“Sam, honey,” he continued, closing the distance between them, “at least say hello to me.”
Hello? She wanted to shout insults at him, to demand he step aside, to tell him he expected too much after rejecting her in favor of an old love who did not want him. And—yes—to murmur how she still loved him.
Pain swirled through her. Yes, she loved Joel. She loved his unrelenting drive for success, and his soft kisses. Even knowing about his jealousy and his wish to use her against Camilla, she could not keep from wanting him.
It was impossible.
She could not stay here and let him seduce her back into his arms with his glib phrases. As he stepped toward her, she stepped aside and walked past him, down the street.
“Sam, you can’t ignore me!” he shouted after her in disbelief. “You have to give me a chance to explain. You have to! I love you.”
She resisted the temptation to turn and spit the truth at him. He did not want her. He wanted revenge. If he could scurry back to his Camilla, he would forget Samantha Perry ever existed.
Continuing along the road, she carried her package of clean laundry to Mr. Scopes.
Furious, Joel slapped his hat against his thigh as he moved gracefully toward a door with embossed letters proclaiming, “Dawson City Hotel.” He had only a few days to convince her to stay. He had no intention of allowing her to leave. Although she continued to make him furious, he knew now he did not want a future without his lovely and loving Sam.
Samantha recoiled as she always did at the red glare of the hotel. When Mr. Scopes looked at her with a smile, she nodded without speaking, remembering how he had treated her when she came alone and scared to Dawson. He still made no secret of the fact he would prefer to have her working here than at the laundry. Each Wednesday, she left the cleaned clothes and hurried away to avoid his unconcealed lust.
Mr. Scopes rounded his desk to greet her. With the regal condescension she assumed to keep him at a distance, she allowed him to chatter, reminding herself that she represented Mrs. Kellogg. Because of that, she must tolerate the small man’s open leers and comments. Concentrating on her need to stay calm, she could keep Joel from her mind.
“You look mighty appetizing, Miss Perry.”
“Thank you,” she replied with automatic coolness. “Here is your laundry. Mrs. Kellogg expects you will pay her at the end of the month, as usual.”
When she turned, he gripped her with narrow, clawlike fingers and moved her around to face him. Because of his diminutive height, his eyes were on a level with hers. A sly look forced his lips into a rare smile. “Why are you slaving at that laundry, when you could make much more money here?”
“I like my job, Mr. Scopes.”
He took her hand and ripped off her glove before she could stop him. “Look at this!” he commanded. “You shouldn’t abuse these lovely hands. Why do you continue to ruin them in steam and hot water?”
“Mr. Scopes, I’ve told you over and over that I have no desire to work here at the hotel. If you will excuse me, I have more important things to do than waste my time arguing with you. I will never change my mind.” She jerked her hand out of his, scooping up her glove from the counter.
She backed away, not taking her eyes off him. He started to block her path, but halted suddenly, glancing over her shoulder in surprise. Then she felt a hand on the center of her back, urging her to stop.
“Joel!” she cried, turning, annoyed that he had tricked her into acknowledging him.
“In person, Sam.” He grinned with the full power of the charm which had lured her into his arms. “As long as we’re here, why don’t we have something to eat, Sam?”
She forced a tight smile. Not wanting Joel to realize that her heart still leapt with joy when he came near, she said, “I figured you would follow me here. I was waiting for your arrival.” She would not let him take control again.
“You were, were you?” Amusement brightened his sparkling eyes. He motioned for her to follow their suddenly silent host.
With her back rod straight, she walked ahead of him toward the center of the dining room, determined to convince him she was unruffled. Passing a table where a trio of men enjoyed the company of Scopes’ skimpily clad women, she kept her eyes carefully averted.
He selected the chair across from hers and pointed toward a slate on the wall. “Appears as if there is the choice of elk steaks or fish soup. What shall it be?”
“I will have the fish.” Hearing an obscene suggestion from one of the harlots, she forced her distaste deep within her. “Plus a glass of wine, if this place serves such.”
“Don’t know. I don’t come here too often. This is too rich for me.” He grinned disarmingly. “I certainly wasn’t planning on dining here when I drove in today. I thought you might be sensible and come home without wooing. As you can see, I was wrong as usual.”
“As usual,” she said, her lips twitching. She wondered why she could not remain angry when he was with her, his eyes sparkling like sun
reflected in the tumbling waters of the Bonanza.
“Sam, will you come home?”
“I don’t know.” Her response was as serious as his question.
“Sweetheart, what do you have here?”
She answered him with a question of her own, “What did you tell Kevin?”
He reached across the table to corral her hands between the long rails of his fingers. “I told him you had stayed on to help a friend who came on the Merwyn with you. He believed the lie I devised about her being pregnant and sick. I couldn’t tell him the truth.”
“And what is the truth?”
His look pierced the hard shell she had created to shield herself from pain she could not face and released the agony locked in her heart. He lifted her fingers to his mouth, summoning memories of passionate kisses. A lurch at her center warned her that this simple caress of his lips on her skin could twist her back to his will.
She pulled her hands away and clasped them in her lap. “Well?” she demanded, wanting to regain the offensive in this battle of wits.
“The truth you know, Sam. That I am so incredibly in love with you I cannot see sense. I couldn’t believe a woman as wonderful as you could love me, after being rejected by one who cannot compare with you. It wasn’t you I was so angry at, but myself. Although I loved you, I had still intended to use you, to hurt a woman who had hurt me. Knowing how I wounded you, though, how could I allow my plans to reach fruition? I was in torment, Sam. I was so guilty and confused I did everything in my power to sabotage our betrothal.”
“Our betrothal was a joke!” she snapped. “A drunken proposal you could not figure out how to escape from. You only wanted me to—”
He interrupted her. Pain furrowed his brow. “No, Sam. That is what I thought at times, I admit. I thought I might still love Camilla, too, and the anguish I felt was because of that. How much more it hurt to lose you! Compared to the agony I’ve suffered since you walked away with that Mountie, Camilla’s leaving me seems of no more consequence than a skeeter bite.”
“So?”
“You aren’t going to make it easy for me, are you?”
“You have never made it easy for me.”
Gazing intently into her eyes, he murmured, “Darling, I love you. I don’t want any other woman. I know you love me, too. Why don’t you come home? Where else do you belong, but with me?”
He stroked her roughened hands before raising them to his lips once more. “If you don’t come back to Fifteen Above, won’t that mean you don’t love me? If you do love me, as I love you, I can’t imagine you refusing.”
“You mean after you have humbled yourself and begged me?”
“Exactly.” When she did not answer, he changed to a casual, light tone, “So, how’s the laundry business?”
“Debilitating.” She held up her hands. “I thought they looked horrible when I was doing laundry for Liberty and his friends. Look at them now.”
Pressing her rough palms to his mouth, he whispered, “Sam, you know I think everything about you is beautiful.” He drew her toward him. “Listen, honey, when Kevin and I can break through the ice, the gold still appears in our pans, as if someone is pouring it in the water upstream. By the time the Merwyn comes into Dawson, we’ll have enough money to turn our backs on this frozen mudhole and return to the States as millionaires.”
“I’ve told you the money isn’t why I came here.”
He looked at her, his expression serious and sincere. “It’s why I came. But, Sam, if I leave with only gold I will have lost the true treasure I found in the Yukon.”
Her reply was lost in the hubbub as a waiter placed two bowls in front of them, and slopped thick chunks of fish and vegetables into them. When he asked if they wanted anything else, they shook their heads without looking at him. Enrapt, deaf to every noise in the busy room, neither lifted a spoon.
“So, you missed me?” asked Samantha. As she saw the truth of his love for her on his earnest face, joy rushed through her, but she was not ready to tell him what she had decided.
“That is the most foolish thing you have ever asked.” Intense, blue fire burned in his eyes. “Sam, this isn’t easy for me to say. Forgive me, my love. My only crime has been a stupid desire for revenge and—perhaps—loving you too much.”
She yearned to give in to his request. More than anything, she wanted to be with Joel. He made her heart sing with love. With him, the winter nights were less harsh and the spring mornings more precious. She had been miserable while they were separated. His love delighted her. She did not want to lose it.
There was something far more important. She must not lose Samantha Perry.
“You want to suffocate me, Joel. I can’t return to submerging my will beneath another’s. I lived like that for too long in my brother’s house. And I won’t be the one you flaunt before the woman who hurt you so badly.”
“I told you, Camilla is out of my life.”
“Even if you return to Lynchburg?” She patted his hand. “Joel, I can’t be her. All I can be is Samantha Perry, and I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last year. I know I’ll never risk letting you hurt me again.”
“Do you think you were the only one hurt? Do you think a man feels nothing, because he hides his broken heart behind a wall of stone? For each time you’ve cried since we were together last, I’ve wanted to cry.” He took her hands and whispered, “You consigned me to torture when we parted, Sam. Don’t send me back. Without you, heaven would be hell.”
She stared at him, unsure what to say. Although he had spoken to her many times of love, never had he told her so sweetly of his yearning to spend the rest of his life with her. Only once, when he had been drunk …
When she did not speak, he felt pain searing him. His foolish confusions about Camilla might have cost him everything. Knowing he must be completely open with her, he said, “Sam, I love you. If you leave Dawson, I will, too. I will follow you wherever you go until you consent to be mine.”
“Joel, I don’t know. You—”
“Think about it before you answer me. Please. Think about it for five minutes, before you tell me what is in your heart.” He grasped her hands again and pulled her to her feet, then left enough money to pay for their untouched meal. As he led her from the room, she knew that she wanted to share everything she possessed with him.
With her hand on his arm, they walked along the boardwalk toward Mrs. Kellogg’s laundry. The cold from the river cut into their faces, but they ignored the snow and the ice formations. Deep in their thoughts, they did not feel the vagaries of the winter clinging to the hillsides.
After walking for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence, he reached past her to take her other hand. She looked in confusion at the small, leather bag he had given her. With a smile, he said, “That’s the gold you hid in the loft. It belongs to you. Take it back to the States, and you can live in comfort for the rest of your life. If you decide you don’t want me, I’ll make sure you get your share of what we took from the river.”
“A third of this should belong to you, and a third to Kevin. We were partners, after all.”
“Does that mean you’re leaving? It’s been close enough to five minutes. Tell me the truth, honey. Are you leaving?”
“Yes. I’m leaving Dawson as soon as possible.”
Stopping, his mouth twisted in pain, he said, “I understand, Sam.”
She gripped his arms and shook him. He did not take his eyes from her. “Listen! Will you listen to me once, without jumping to conclusions?”
“Me?” Joel gasped, wondering how she could smile at this parting. Perhaps she was enjoying this revenge. The Sam he loved would not do that. His callous treatment must have changed her.
She laughed at his incredulity. Then her smile softened. Ignoring prospectors who paused to watch and listen, she lifted her hands and put them around his neck. “You foolish man, don’t you understand? I am leaving Dawson as soon as I can. The only reason I’m delaying is—
”
He said sadly, “The ice on the Yukon—”
“… I’m waiting for the man I love to finish searching for the gold waiting at the end of his rainbow. When Joel Gilchrist is ready to leave, I want to go with him as his wife.”
Sure of her intention to leave him, Joel needed time to grasp the meaning of her words. In a few seconds, a slow smile spread along his lips and up into his eyes. Then he grabbed her and pressed his mouth over hers.
As he kissed her again and again, she did not feel the icy fingers of the wind. When he raised his head to look down at her, she touched his hair with trembling fingers. When he captured her lips again, the joy of reconciliation melted into a passion to share what they had known all too seldom.
He took her hand and reached for the door nearest to them. Her eyes held by his, she did not notice it said “Fairview Hotel.” With his arm around her shoulders, leaning against him, dazed by love, she walked in perfect unison with him up the stairs to his room.
He ushered her in, already loosening the buttons on his coat. Sliding the latch in place, he stepped eagerly into her welcoming arms. As he undid her heavy parka, he murmured against her ear, “I love you, Sam. I know now I don’t want any other woman, for any other reason. I want you. Because I love you. Never doubt that again.”
“I never will,” she whispered, giving herself over totally to expectations of the sensations she would soon exult in again. All thoughts vanished, replaced by rapture.
Her coat dropped to the floor. With a laugh, he scooped her up in his arms. Over the heavy sound of his boots as he carried her to the bed, she heard him whisper, “My love, I have so often imagined carrying you to a real bed and loving you until you begged me to stop.”
Thrilled by his words, she traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “I’m not going anywhere. Love me, Joel, until we have no strength, and collapse in each other’s arms.”
“My wish, exactly,” he murmured as he leaned her back against the pillows. He smiled when she reached up to grip the front of his shirt and urge him to join her. Memories of the last time he had held her brightened his eyes. He resolved to make this day one neither of them would ever forget.
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