Snow Angel

by Jamie Carie

  * * *

  NOAH SAID A prayer of thanks, lifted his head, and took a bite. He chewed thoughtfully and watched Elizabeth, her big brown eyes still downcast, looking at her plate. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and she seemed to get prettier every day. But what was he going to do with her?

  Elizabeth interrupted his musings by asking, “How much land do you own around here, Noah?”

  Noah shrugged and answered, “About 160 acres.”

  “So you own some land close to this Juneau gold mine, then?”

  Noah nodded, “Yes, very close to it. My land starts at the head of Granite Creek and goes east and north up the slopes of Mount Juneau. I also own part of a big chunk of rock on Mount Olds. Why?”

  She toyed with her food a moment and looked at him thoughtfully. “Have you ever prospected on your land? I heard Juneau had its own gold rush a few years ago.”

  Noah nodded, chewing his food. “Yes, it did. Two fellows, Richard Harris and Joe Juneau, found gold on Gold Creek in 1880. But from what I heard, they really owed their success to a Tlingit chief named Kowee. I missed the rush that followed. But I don’t think it lasted long before all the placer mining was panned out and the lode mining began. Most of the gold around here was in hard rock. The big companies moved in with heavy equipment and set up mining camps like the Jumbo. It was destroyed by a snowslide in 1895. There’s talk of rebuilding it, but I don’t know that they will.” Noah shrugged. “Will wanted to start a trading post for the miners, and it didn’t take much for him to convince me to join him in that venture. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t prospect my land. Between lack of time and, I guess, lack of faith that any gold was there, I didn’t give it much thought.” He frowned and took another bite. “Though I’ll admit that with all the excitement of this new rush, I’ve begun to wonder …”

  “Noah, you could be sitting on a fortune! Are there many creeks or streams on your land?”

  Noah nodded. “Several. Granite Creek is the big one.”

  Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “And you’ve never even checked them?”

  He shrugged with one shoulder. “They were probably mined out during the rush. Besides, I don’t know the first thing about gold mining.”

  Elizabeth huffed. “Neither do most of the greenhorns who stampede. It doesn’t take long to learn, though.” She cocked her head and smiled. “I could help you.”

  The idea of hiring her as a prospector had already occurred to him, but the notion had its problems. For one thing, he didn’t know if she was telling the truth about being a gold miner. He really needed an expert since he knew next to nothing about it. He wasn’t sure he trusted her, either. It would be foolish to hire someone he didn’t trust, and yet … something about the idea appealed to him.

  Trying not to show his excitement, he said, “We’d have to start in spring when the streams thaw out.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t wait that long. All the good claims will be gone if I stay here. I need to leave for Dawson by first thaw.”

  “Elizabeth, I hate to be the one to tell you, but all the good claims are already gone. They were gone a year ago.”

  She bristled as he knew she would. “Then why are all those millionaires still getting off the ships in Seattle?”

  “Those men panned that gold a year ago. In August, last year, three men discovered gold on Rabbit Creek. They renamed it Bonanza Creek and staked their claim. Word spread up here about the findings, but winter was just around the corner. When the Yukon River froze, it trapped the prospectors up there near Dawson. That’s why it took so long for word to reach the outside. By the time Alaska began to be flooded with gold seekers, most of the good claims were gone.”

  Elizabeth stood abruptly and walked away from the table. With her back to him she said, “I’ll find a way. I always do.”

  Noah sighed. He knew he was hurting her, but the thought of this fragile-looking woman taking on the man-eating northern trails and the Yukon River made his stomach lurch. Softly he said, “Elizabeth, you may know a lot about panning gold, but this is Alaska. The ground up there is frozen—not in inches but in feet. Maybe even miles. I heard the men in Dawson are building fires every night to thaw out a few feet of earth at a time. They have to dig it, haul it up with buckets, and then build another fire in the hole and do it all over again. In the spring they’ll have a ton of earth to wash. A ton. They have nothing better to do with their winter, stranded as they are, but I do. If we wait until spring thaw, we can check out all the streams on my land. It may take awhile, but who knows? We might find gold.”

  She turned, eyes blazing. “Yes, your land. What kind of future am I supposed to make for myself prospecting for someone else? I need to strike it rich on my own.”

  Noah motioned for the chair. “Elizabeth, please sit down and listen to me. You would be a partner, not just working for me.”

  She ignored the chair, “What exactly would being your partner mean?”

  Words and plans that he hadn’t even let himself think through started pouring out of his mouth. “Come spring, we decide on a spot and you help me mine the land. I’ll split any gold we find, say 40/60.”

  “40/60? Why not 50/50?”

  “I’ll be providing the food and shelter. That should count for ten percent. It’s a gamble, you see. You could end up paying a lot for food and board or next to nothing, depending on how much we find. What do you think?” Noah smiled broadly, knowing it was sound reasoning.

  “What do I do until spring? You seem to have my future sewed up tight.”

  She sounded so resentful, Noah had to suppress his smile. It was killing her to accept his offer. “Actually, I did have a thought on that, but only if you’re agreeable to it.”

  “Well?”

  “In another week or so, when you’re ready to travel, I’ll take you down to Juneau to the trading post. With all the added business of the miners, I know Will and his wife would welcome the help this winter. Then, when spring thaw breaks, we’ll pick our ground, set up camp, and if all goes well, maybe hire a man or two to help.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them Noah could read the resignation, but she didn’t like it. “Since I’m not in a position to bargain with you, Mr. Wesley, I will accept your offer, but I’d like to make one thing perfectly clear. This is a business partnership, nothing else.” She turned away from him and spoke toward the stove, “I’ll have my own shelter.”

  Noah’s fist came down on the table, making the plates jump. “Confound it, woman! I—I wouldn’t offer anything like that. You’d have your own, well, you know, shelter. You didn’t really think I was … I mean, I might, but not unless we were married … that is … well, you know what I mean.” He broke off in frustration. “And don’t call me ‘Mr. Wesley.’ It’s just plain Noah.”

  Elizabeth had turned in shock when he began his tirade. Clamping her open jaw shut, she said, “OK. I just wanted to be clear on that.” Looking down at his empty plate she ventured, “I’ll be glad to wash these dishes and do any other chores to help out while I am here.”

  Noah was still flustered and it took him a moment to grasp the turn of topics. Too gruffly he asked, “Are you sure you’re ready to be on your feet? I nearly froze my feet a couple of times and I know it takes some time to heal.”

  “Oh, and I’m sure you just laid around the cabin for days while you were waiting for your feet to thaw, right?” she asked, her head cocked to one side and a curtain of dark hair falling over one shoulder.

  Noah answered with a shrug, “I guess not, but you’re a woman.”

  Elizabeth’s lips pursed together. “And hardier than you think, which I will prove soon enough. But for now, I’ll start with the dishes. At least let me help you while I’m here.”

  Suddenly Noah understood. Her pride was at stake, and he couldn’t say that in the same position he would feel any differently. Looking around the orderly cabin, he spied a basket under
the bed and smiled. There was one household chore he could never get his hands adept at. “I’m not much at mending. Can you sew?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I can sew. What do you want made?”

  Noah stood and walked to the bed. Bending down, he reached under the frame and pulled out a willow basket overflowing with all kinds of garments. He talked as he sorted through the pile. “Just some mending. I can’t seem to fix holes, and they’ve kind of piled up over the last few years.” Glancing over his shoulder at her he added, his voice quieting a degree or two, not wanting to hurt her feelings, “You’ll be needing some warmer clothes yourself, to see you through till spring.” He looked back down at the bed. “I have some nice furs you could use. You’ll need them for the journey back to Juneau.”

  He held his breath in the ensuing silence and then was relieved to hear, “That’s very kind of you, thank you.” When he turned around, she had busied herself by pouring water from a porcelain pitcher into a pot to heat for dishwater.

  Noah put one of his piles, the one with long underwear and other more personal items, back into the basket and stuffed it under the bed, leaving the other pile on top. “Well, just take your time on these things. I need to scout out some dinner, so I’ll be gone for about an hour, going around the perimeter of the cabin checking for prints. I’ll probably spend most of tomorrow further out, if the weather holds.” He smiled at her, trying to put her back at ease. He found he would rather see her spitting mad any day than see her humbled like this. It would be good to leave for a while and give her some breathing room. Shrugging into his coat, Noah had to check the sudden urge to kiss her on the forehead before he left. He shook his head slightly as he bent down to tie on his snowshoes. “I’ll be back soon.” With a wave, he was out the door and shutting it tight behind him.

  Walking to the barn to feed the animals, Noah smiled as he thought of Elizabeth. For such a little woman she sure had a lot of courage. She was really something. It hit him suddenly how much he would miss her when she left. He didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t want his life to go back to what would now seem lonely, almost desolate. Glancing up at the beamed roof of the barn Noah whispered, “I never thought I’d ask it, but … could You send another blizzard?”

  * * *

  January 14, 1882

  Dear Mrs. Rhodes,

  I regret to inform you that the woman with whom I have been corresponding was no longer employed at the orphanage when I arrived. The other teachers claimed not to have ever known her. I believe they are being dishonest and that Elizabeth was here, but someone has learned of our inquiries and they have moved her to another location. No one will speak to me except to claim they’ve never seen or heard of an Elizabeth Greyson with your child’s age and description. I have carefully searched the area for both the teacher and Elizabeth but have not been able to locate any knowledge of them. I must tell you, ma’am, this is too coincidental to be accidental. Do you have any enemies I should know of?

  Sincerely yours,

  Jeremiah Hoglesby

  Private Detective for Hire

  Five

  When Noah returned he was surprised to find Elizabeth in the kitchen again.

  She turned toward him as he walked in, wiped tendrils of curls from her forehead with the back of her hand, which held a long-handled wooden spoon, and said, “I’m glad you’re back. I was beginning to worry.”

  With that announcement, she turned back toward the stove, as though she said such things to him every day. Stirring vigorously, she shot him a smile over her shoulder—the kind of smile that held him fastened to the floor.

  “I’m boiling rice. I didn’t think I could mess it up too badly, do you?”

  Noah was entranced, despite himself. To think that just a few short days ago she was a pale and lifeless girl to him. Now she was a vivacious, warm woman. He liked the way she moved about his kitchen, with feminine gestures and graceful tilts and lifts to her arms. She was so different. He decided he had been away from women too long. He could only shake his head and slowly pull off his gear as he watched her move, light-footed, around the kitchen. Finally, he walked over and stood behind her to peer over her shoulder into the pot. She sure did smell better than the rice.

  “It looks good,” he said. “How long has it been boiling?”

  Elizabeth shrugged, her shoulders brushing up against his chest. “Only a few minutes,” she said softly.

  She had stiffened a little, at his nearness he supposed, but he wasn’t willing to step back just yet. Above and in front of her sat a shaker with salt in it. He reached for it, saying, “You’ll need a little of this.” His voice was huskier than he meant it to be, and he cleared his throat. It had been a long time since he had felt this awkward around a woman. He had been sixteen when he’d had his first crush on a neighbor’s daughter. She had been the fickle sort, only interested in him as long as he ignored her. The moment he’d noticed her that summer she suddenly filled out her dress and looked at him with subtle challenge in her eyes, when she knew she’d snared his attention, she’d suddenly turned uppity and unreachable. He was left with hot dreams and thin air. It had been a good lesson, though, and he’d been more careful of appearing too eager after that. There had been a few others since that time. A woman in Montana had caught his eye. Now older and wiser, he’d courted her with some finesse. But in the end, she just hadn’t seemed the right fit. She would have been a practical choice, but he could only see himself living the daytime hours with her. He’d broken it off, feeling wretched in the face of her tears. In Alaska he’d been “set up” a few times by well-meaning friends. He’d gone along with it, but none had captured his heart or, truthfully, any other part of him.

  He looked down at the woman in his cabin and inhaled as quietly as he could. Now, this woman. This woman captured his imagination. He could not get enough of looking at her or listening to the outlandish things she said. At night, hearing her soft breathing just steps away, he lay awake wanting to go to her. Sleep only made him dream of her, even dreaming of how she smelled with her clothes drying beside his bed. He lay there wanting, dreaming of touching her again, touching her in ways that would bring her to life … again … but in another way. She was all he could think about.

  Elizabeth stood there, stiffly enduring, slowly stirring the swirling bits of rice. Finally, with quiet force she stated, “You may think you want me, Noah, but believe me, you don’t.”

  Her tone shocked him more than her words, so much so that he took a step back and then another. “What do you mean?”

  She turned and looked at him with eyes as old as the earth. “You don’t know me.”

  It took courage, in the face of those eyes, but he stepped back toward her and took her hands into his. “I want to know you.”

  She laughed. It was brittle and made his heart sink. What had made this young woman so fierce? So unreachable?

  She laughed again, this time making light of it. With a shrug of one shoulder she turned back to her rice and asked, “What do you want to know?”

  Noah felt his throat constrict. How could she change like that, from one moment to the next, into someone else? He grappled with a hundred questions, half wanting to run out into the familiar territory of his frozen land. But he couldn’t give up. There must be some key, some way to unlock her barriers. “What kind of family did you have?”

  She stiffened, almost imperceptibly. Had he not been focusing on every nuance of her stance he would have missed it.

  “Oh, you know. Just the normal kind.”

  Noah pressed on. “How old were you when you lost your parents?”

  Her head was bent over the pot in apparent concentration. She had knotted up her dark hair and some curls had fallen, making the back of her neck look vulnerable in its graceful beauty. He wanted to kiss her there more than anything he could ever remember wanting. His body ached to take her into his arms and kiss her.

  “I don’t remember. My grandparents raised me. We liv
ed on a farm in Illinois.”

  “I thought you were from Seattle?” he managed from a tight throat.

  Elizabeth turned from the pan, brushing past him and busying herself setting dishes on the table. “I am from Seattle. I moved out west after my grandparents died.”

  “All alone?”

  “Yes, well, I had friends. And I made a decent living for myself.”

  “Panning gold?” he asked with more heat than he meant to express aloud.

  “Yes, and doing other odd jobs. I was a seamstress at a dress shop in Seattle.”

  “At least that was a respectable job.”

  Elizabeth snapped, “I am sorry to offend your high moral standards, but I did what was necessary. I couldn’t pay the boarding house and feed myself on what they paid me to work fourteen-hour days, sewing until my eyes were so blurred I could hardly see to get home at night. When I heard about this gold rush, I jumped at the chance to make a real future for myself.”

  “And risk your life in the process!” He was nearly shouting, shouting at the unfairness of it all. That she had to be so strong all the time. That she didn’t want him. That he might never be able to scale the walls she’d constructed around her heart. But she didn’t know that.

  “Because I’d have to risk my life in the process,” she said low and fierce and whisper-thin. “I had nothing else left to lose.”

  He shoved away from the table, not knowing how to answer that except to say, “Dead people don’t have futures, Elizabeth.”

  What did it matter to him what she did with her life, anyway? It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. Stalking over to the hook on the wall, he pulled his coat down and shrugged into it.

  “I’m going to feed the dogs.”

  * * *

  ELIZABETH WATCHED HIM go with an angry glare. How dare he try to tell her about her life. If he knew about the things she’d done, he would be finished with her. She imagined the shock and even disgust on his face had she told him of the agreement she’d struck with Ross. She shook her head slowly. She couldn’t think of that.