Forget-Me-Not Bride

by Margaret Pemberton

  ‘I knew about that even before you rescued Leo,’ she said, wondering why she had ever thought red hair on a man, less than attractive.

  He stood very still. In a nearby bush two birds wrangled furiously.

  ‘My informant told me you had been imprisoned for murder,’ she said simply, ‘And I know you couldn’t have murdered anyone. I know that if anyone ever died at your hands they would have done so by accident.’

  ‘Come on!’ Lord Lister exhorted as the Casca’s whistle shrilled. ‘The boat’s going to sail, don’t y’know!’

  Ringan’s eyes held her’s. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. The emotions raging through him were far too shattering to be articulated.

  The Casca’s whistle shrilled again. Tearing her eyes from his, Lilli gave her hand to Lord Lister and, her emotions in tumult, allowed him to help her into the waiting boat.

  Chapter Twelve

  All through the short boat ride her emotions were in tumult. The time she had spent with Ringan Cameron in the Indian tepee had been the most extraordinary of her life. She had felt utterly in tune with him and with what he was trying to achieve. And together, what they had achieved had been marvellous. She wondered what Nana’s mother would call her son. She wondered if she would one day be able to return to the camp and see him.

  She looked across to where Ringan was sitting, his doctor’s bag between his feet, and her breath came quick in her throat. He was an amazing man. A big man in every sense of the word. She wondered why, when he had tended her after she had been hit by The Pig, he hadn’t admitted to her that he was a doctor. Was it because of his jailbird past? Or was it just the natural reserve of a Highlander? There was so much she didn’t know about him and wanted to know, but one thing she did know was that she liked him. She liked him very much indeed.

  ‘What have you all been doing?’ Marietta shouted down to them, hanging over the deck rails as the boat rocked against the Casca’s side. ‘We thought you’d at least been eaten by bears!’

  Lilli laughed up at her and then Lord Lister was on his feet, steadying her as she stepped from the rocking boat onto the Casca’s ladder. Before beginning to climb she looked over her shoulder at Ringan. Beneath his thick tumble of curly red hair his eyes met hers. Shock stabbed through her. A few moments ago, when they had walked from the Indian camp to the river-bank, he had been euphoric. Now the skin was taut across his cheekbones and beneath his rusty moustache his mouth was a tight line of pain. He looked like a man on the brink of an abyss; a man faced with a realization totally unacceptable to him.

  Deeply disconcerted she climbed the ladder. Was he worried that gossip would spread of how he had left the Casca carrying a doctor’s bag? And if so, why? Were there legal difficulties which made it impossible for him to openly practise his profession? What if …’

  ‘What in blazes have you been doing?’ Lucky Jack demanded, his eyes dark with concern as he helped her aboard the Casca. ‘And if you wanted to get so friendly with the Indians why didn’t you ask me to accompany you?’

  For once his touch didn’t drive every other thought from her brain. She was aware of Lord Lister stepping onto the deck behind her. In another second or so Ringan would be following him.

  ‘You were playing cards,’ she said, wondering when she would next have an opportunity to talk in private to Ringan. She wanted to ask him what it was that was so deeply troubling him. They were, after all, friends now. Shared experience had forged a bond of profound camaraderie between them.

  ‘We’re dining with Captain Stoddart and Kitty,’ Lucky Jack was saying to her as they walked towards the companionway leading down to the cabins. ‘Privately, of course. No use in ruining your reputation now when we’ve so carefully avoided doing so for so long.’

  Lilli was barely listening to him. She had too many other things on her mind to worry overmuch about the arrangements for dinner. She now knew what it was she wanted to do when she had settled in Dawson. She wanted to work with the Indians. She wanted to teach bright-eyed intelligent children like Nana to read and write in English so that they could better communicate with the Americans and Canadians and Europeans now living alongside them in the Yukon Valley.

  ‘Did you really see bears, Lilli?’ Edie was asking round-eyed as she and Marietta accompanied them towards the cabins. ‘Mr Saskatchewan Stan says he once flushed a brown bear from giant blueberry bushes and the bear ran and ran it was so scairt of him!’

  Lilli frowned slightly. Hadn’t Mr Jenkinson said something about starting a school for Indian children in Dawson? Such a school would surely not come under the jurisdiction of the Canadian Education Authority. When it came to teaching staff, Mr Jenkinson would be able to engage whoever he chose.

  ‘Unless you’re a Highland Scot the word is scared, Edie. Not scairt,’ Marietta said, wondering what on earth Lilli was thinking about to be so totally self-absorbed, she didn’t seem to be even aware of the proprietal way Lucky Jack Coolidge was shepherding her towards her cabin. She looked across at him, hoping to catch his eye. He was handsome enough to ruin a nun. Her mouth twitched into a naughty smile. She would be more than happy for him to ruin her, any time or any place. Or she would be if he wasn’t Lilli’s beau.

  ‘The children are invited to dinner as well,’ Lucky Jack said as they reached Lilli’s cabin door. ‘Stoddart likes children. He has five of his own.’

  With great difficulty Lilli dragged her attention away from the dizzying prospect of doing something truly useful with her life. ‘Has he? I wonder why he doesn’t have them with him aboard the Casca? It would be easy for him to, wouldn’t it?’

  Lucky Jack shot her a down-slanting smile and for the first time since she had re-boarded the Casca she registered the reality of his presence at her side. Her heart felt as if it were flipping over within her breast. He had been worried about her. He had been concerned. And he had arranged for them to be able to dine together in near privacy that evening.

  She smiled sunnily back at him, loving the gold flecks in his amber-brown eyes; loving the way his wheat-gold hair curled low in the nape of his neck; at the way his gold earring made him look for all the world like a swashbuckling pirate.

  It was only later, when she was telling Marietta and Edie what had happened in the Indian camp, that it occurred to her to wonder what Lucky Jack’s reaction would be when she told him of her plans. And to wonder what the situation now was between Susan and Mr Jenkinson.

  ‘Terrible,’ Marietta said succinctly. ‘Susan’s in her cabin sobbing her eyes out. Mr Jenkinson is up on deck, looking so traumatized it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t throw himself overboard. Lettie’s tried talking to him but she didn’t get anywhere. She says he seems too shocked to even speak. She’s with Susan now but I don’t see what comfort she can give her. The romance is off. Methodist ministers do not, apparently, marry mail-order brides, no matter how suitable as a minster’s wife the bride may be.’

  Lilli’s throat was too tight for speech. Tears glittered on her eyelashes. Poor Susan. She had been so near to happiness and now it was as far beyond her reach as ever.

  ‘Does Kate know?’ she asked at last.

  Marietta nodded, her usually animated little monkey-face sombre. ‘Yes. But what’s she’s going to do where Lord Lister is concerned she hasn’t yet said.’

  ‘I’m not going to tell him,’ Kate said an hour later as she joined Marietta and Edie on deck.

  ‘But if you don’t tell him, how can he decide whether he’s going to pay off Josh Nelson and marry you?’ Marietta asked, perplexed.

  Kate’s high-necked, midnight-blue dress seemed to draw all the colour from her face. ‘He can’t,’ she said brokenly, ‘but neither will he be able to reject me as Mr Jenkinson has rejected Susan. And I couldn’t bear it if he rejected me. I couldn’t live with such pain.’

  ‘But I still don’t see …’ Marietta persisted, more perplexed than ever.

  Kate pressed a hand against her throat. I’m going to tell
Perry …’

  ‘Perry?’ Lilli interrupted.

  ‘Peregrine. Lord Lister.’ Kate’s voice was barely audible. ‘I’m going to tell Perry that I’m already affianced and that once we reach Dawson I will no longer be able to continue my … my friendship with him. That way I will always be able to pretend to myself that perhaps he would have wanted to pay off Mr Nelson and marry me. And for the rest of my life I’ll be able to remember these precious days we’ve spent together with joy. My memories won’t be tarnished, as Susan’s memories are going to be, by rejection and heartache.’

  ‘But what if you tell him and he doesn’t reject you?’ Marietta demanded explosively. ‘Isn’t that a possibility worth gambling on? Lord, if it was me, I’d gamble everything on it!’

  A small, sad smile touched Kate’s gentle mouth. ‘That’s because, like Lucky Jack, you’re a gambler by nature, Marietta. I’m not. And this way I can at least keep my dreams.’

  Later, as she sat at the dinner table with Captain Stoddart and Kitty Dufresne and Lucky Jack, Leo squeezed between Kitty and the Captain and Lottie seated between herself and Lucky Jack, Lilly found herself wondering what she would do if she were in Kate’s position. The answer came almost immediately. Like Marietta, she would risk everything in the fevered hope that by doing so she would win a lifetime of happiness with the man she loved.

  She looked across at the man in question, wishing she could talk to him about her amazing experience that afternoon in the Indian encampment, wanting to discuss with him her intention of becoming a schoolmistress in the Reverend Mr Jenkinson’s school for Indian children. Because of the company they were in it was impossible for her to do so.

  Captain Stoddart was saying quite flatly that in the months Lucky Jack and Kitty had been absent from it, Dawson had peaked. ‘Another few months, a year maybe, and it’ll be a ghost town,’ he said, stabbing a piece of moose-meat with his fork.

  Lilli looked across at Kitty, hoping she wasn’t going to let the topic of conversation distress her. Her worry was needless. Kitty was leaning towards Leo, whispering something in his ear, and Leo was giggling, his eyes aglow at receiving such attention from his magic lady.

  ‘Help Mr Jenkinson out at his school?’

  It was nearly midnight and they were standing on a secluded section of the deck. The sun had set an hour or so previously, but there was still no darkness, only a glorious amber light diffusing the grey Yukon into tones of tawny splendour.

  ‘Yes. He intends setting up a school for Indian children. It would be such a privilege to be able to teach them! Nana was so quick and eager and …’

  ‘Hey, steady on a moment.’ He looked across at her, wondering if he had misjudged the kind of background she came from. If his trip to Europe had taught him nothing else, it had taught him that upper-class Englishwomen were like no other breed he had ever encountered. With no need to work for a living they undertook volunteer hospital and educational work with ridiculous enthusiasm. Was Lilli’s background far more privileged than she had admitted? Going by the classiness of her looks it was certainly a possibility. And she held herself like a member of the English aristocracy; straight and tall and with an air of pride.

  He frowned. Lilli wasn’t English. Or at least not wholly English. She was half-Irish. Would that preclude her from coming from the kind of background he had in mind? He had no idea. What he did know, though, was that her position as housekeeper at The Eldorado wouldn’t give her time for the kind of commendable volunteer work she had in mind.

  ‘Time isn’t going to be exactly hanging heavy on your hands in Dawson, you know,’ he said reasonably. ‘Housekeeping is a major job. It needs a lot of time and effort to do it well.’

  ‘I know.’ She was touched by his concern, but apprehensive also. She knew how taxing housework could be, especially when there were no conveniences such as piped water, for she had been a housekeeper to her father in just such conditions. It surprised her that Lucky Jack, with his air of careless extravagance, should be expecting her to run their future home without help, but she wasn’t afraid of hard work and it wasn’t that prospect that was filling her with dark doubts. It was the sudden suspicion that Lucky Jack was raising objections to her plans merely because, like many men, he didn’t want his wife to have a life of her own outside the home. ‘I know,’ she said again, wondering how best to broach such a delicate issue, ‘I’m very practised at running a house and caring for Leo and Lottie and I know I can do it in such a way that I’ll still have time to help Mr Jenkinson …’

  ‘The Eldorado isn’t a ranch house,’ he interrupted gently, ‘it’s big. Thirty rooms at least. And though the staff are pretty keen, they’re also pretty itinerant. Half of them are only in Dawson in the hope of staking a claim on whatever new gold strike is made and it wouldn’t surprise me if we returned to find half of them had already left for Nome.’

  They were standing close together, as close as propriety allowed. Fifteen yards or so away from them, in the direction of the stern, Saskatchewan Stan was holding court, telling a group of first-timers all about the old days of ‘97 and ‘98. In the other direction the unmistakable pink of Marietta’s ankle-length skirt sizzled in the copper-gold light. She was leaning against the deck-rails, Edie at her side. There was no sign of Susan or Lettie or Kate.

  ‘I’m glad to know I’ll have some help at The Eldorado,’ she said, relief thick in her voice. ‘And as I am going to have help …’

  She was just about to say that as she was going to have help she could quite easily organise her time so that she could also teach Indian children the rudiments of written English, when she saw The Pig swagger into view. He had two companions with him, both of them as repellent looking as he and they were walking with dreadful intent towards Marietta and Edie. ‘Oh God!’ she said devoutly. ‘Quick, Lucky Jack! We’ve got to get Edie to a place of safety!’

  From where he was standing, in the shadow of the overhang of the upperdeck, Ringan saw her anxiety quite clearly. And he also saw that there was no need for him to help her rescue Edie. Lucky Jack already had everything under control. As Lilli ran to warn Marietta and Edie, Jack was striding purposefully towards the brute intent on terrorising them.

  Ringan watched the exchange that followed with grudging respect. Whatever Coolidge’s faults, cowardice was obviously not one of them. When the brute looked as if he were going to deck him, Jack stood his ground, verbally threatening the brute, though with what, Ringan was too far away to hear. The threats proved to be startlingly effective. The brute and his companions turned on their heels and, as Lilli had disappeared speedily below deck with Marietta and Edie, Lucky Jack remained where he was, taking a cigar from his vest pocket and lighting it.

  Ringan moved out of the shadows but not to join Lucky Jack. What would be the point? He could hardly catechise Coolidge as to whether he intended being a worthy husband to Lilli. On the face of it there was no reason why he shouldn’t be. There was no reason why he should be worrying where Leo or Lottie were concerned, either. Coolidge obviously had an easy manner with children and both Leo and Lottie liked him well enough. He remembered Lottie’s reservations about Coolidge’s suitability as a husband and a glimmer of a smile touched his mouth. Wee Lottie was so perceptive at determining a person’s faults she would probably have reservations about anyone her sister considered marrying.

  Bleakly he walked towards the stern. Lilli would no doubt not enjoy coming to terms with Coolidge’s often cavalier manner, but he had no reason to suspect that she would lead a miserable existence as Coolidge’s wife. And so, if she was in love with him, and from what he had seen he was quite sure she was in love with him, he had absolutely no excuse for wanting, with all his heart and soul, to try and break the relationship up. No reason except that he was in love with Lilli Stullen himself. Deeply and irrevocably in love.

  When he reached the stern he stood, staring broodingly down into the Casca’s foaming wake, his massive shoulders hunched, his fisted han
ds thrust deep into his breeches pockets. God Almighty, but he’d never known what the word jealousy meant until now. Whenever he saw Lilli in Lucky Jack’s company he was racked by it. Crucified by it.

  Balling his hands into even tighter fists he thought back to the time they had spent together helping the young Indian woman give birth. They had worked together in absolute unison and afterwards, in their shared euphoria, he had felt they were in complete mental accord; that they both wanted exactly the same kind of things in life; that their values and ambitions were identical. And then, confirming everything he felt, she had turned to him and told him that she knew he had served time for murder and she knew it was a crime he was incapable of.

  He had known then, absolutely and utterly, that all his instincts about her being the other, missing half of himself, were correct. But she didn’t feel the same, God help him. She was in love with Coolidge and according to Lottie, Coolidge had declared his intention of marrying her.

  On the far bank of the river a lone moose stood, dramatically silhouetted against the now blood-red sky.

  A pulse throbbed at the corner of Ringan’s blunt jawline. In comparison to Coolidge, what could he offer Lilli? He was going to be spending his entire time travelling up and down the Yukon Valley treating the various tribes of Indians who lived along its banks. During the summer his home would be a tent. In the winter it would be a log cabin. And even though that log cabin would be as comfortable as human endeavour could make it, it wouldn’t remotely reach the standard of comfort Jack Coolidge would be able to provide for her. Coolidge was a man who had made himself as gold-rich as any lucky-strike prospector. And lucky-strike prospectors were able to live like kings.

  The moose switched its tail and turned, plodding in stately splendour away from the river through fetlock-deep grass.

  Ringan drew in a deep, shuddering breath. All through the years of his imprisonment he had been cooped in claustrophobic proximity to other men, and always he had felt alone. Loneliness was something he had grown accustomed to. A bitter smile twisted the corner of his mouth. It was just as well he had become accustomed to it because he knew now that his loneliness was going to become a permanent condition. Without Lilli by his side, and Leo and Lottie to care for, how could he ever be anything else?