Golden Torment

by Janelle Taylor

  To wipe that smug smile off his handsome face, Kathy haughtily stated, insulted, “No way, Landis. Like you said, marriage and love are for dreamers and fools; I don’t intend to become either one. I have plenty of money and I cherish my freedom as much as you do. Marriage isn’t the great life it’s proclaimed to be, unless you’re the husband! From my observations, a wife is nothing more than a husband’s legal possession who can be treated in any manner he chooses. A wife is nothing more than a dutiful slave and a brood mare. I don’t care for any of those demeaning roles. I’d rather be free and happy.”

  He studied her in pensive silence. “If you feel the same way I do, then why did you accuse me of being hard and cynical?”

  She laughed saucily. “Because I don’t feel the way you do. Marriage and enthrallment, no way; but denying all feelings and contacts? I should think a life without ever experiencing such special emotions would be cold and miserable,” she rashly spouted.

  “What about children?” he instantly pressed.

  “Why does everyone feel because you’re a woman you should instinctively want or bear them? What’s so great about being a wife and mother, Landis? Talk about commitment and heavy responsibilities, that’s exactly what children and marriage are! As for a husband, who could possibly give me anything of value in exchange for what I would sacrifice to marry him? Look at my father; he had everything, but did it satisfy him? If a man decides he wants his freedom again, all he has to do is pick up and leave. But a woman, how can she leave when she has children hanging around her skirts, children she can’t ignore as easily as he can! Just like you, I have too much to see and to do. I don’t intend to spend my life and energy on menial labor and self-sacrifice. As you so aptly put it, why tamper with perfection?”

  “Then why did you come looking for your father?”

  “Perhaps I want to punish him, to humiliate him, to have the pleasure of showing him I don’t care about him either…I honestly don’t know. But when I meet him, I will.”

  “Don’t let your childhood embitter you like this, Kathy. You’ve allowed your past to distort your views on marriage. I can’t imagine any man lucky enough to marry you treating you like you just described. He’d be a bloody fool if he did. I think you’re deceiving me, maybe even yourself. I doubt you really feel like that at all.”

  “Look who’s expounding the virtures of marriage and love! The man who doesn’t even believe in them. I recall your saying you didn’t know anything about such feelings and situations. But, you’re partially accurate; I was exaggerating, part of the time,” she saucily admitted.

  “Which part?” he asked, his gaze probing hers.

  “Most of it, except for the part about marriage,” she oddly fenced with him, wanting him to be just as confused as she was.

  “Most of it was about marriage,” he parried her cunning move.

  “Since you’re perceptive and cunning, you figure it out. As to my father, I must see him once, to learn why he left and what he’s like. Afterwards, I’ll get on with my life…alone, Mr. Jurrell.”

  “You would make a fine wife and mother, Kathy; give it some serious thought.” His expression and tone clearly excluded himself from his strange suggestion, provoking her to rashness.

  “And you, Landis Jurrell, have more to offer a wife and children than you realize. Where could a woman find a stronger, more attractive, more valuable man? Even so, such enviable traits do not compel you toward stifling wedlock. Why should I be any different?” With that daring statement, she left him staring after her.

  She passed Moore at the tent entrance as he was leaving. They briefly exchanged congenial words. Kathy looked around in amazement; everything had been done while she was debating with Landis. She rushed forward and apologized. Harriet fondly patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Mr. Moore helped me clean up the dishes. I told him you were asking Mr. Jurrell to help you locate your father.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said if anyone could discover Jake’s location, it was Mr. Jurrell. Besides, he makes a nice friend for you. With him around, the other men will leave you alone,” she hinted optimistically.

  “Him as a friend? I think not, Harriet. There’s something mysterious and intimidating about him. He isn’t a man to be taken lightly or to be used by some wily female.”

  “Certainly not. But his friendship could be valuable to you. The others respect him. No one would harass his friend.”

  “Respect, yes; but they also fear him. With just reason I might add. You should have seen him bluffing Marc, rather terrifying him. It was like confronting the devil himself. He’s a most formidable and changeable man. I wouldn’t he surprised if he’s as dangerous and unpredictable as Marc Slavin was. I don’t trust him, Harriet.”

  “Is it Mr. Jurrell you fear and mistrust, or is it the way he makes you feel that frightens and baffles you?” Harriet asked, confused by this abrupt change in Kathy’s attitude.

  Guilt and modesty lightly dusted her face a glowing red. Harriet laughed. “I see,” she murmured suspiciously. “The path to true love is never smooth or tranquil,” she absently muttered.

  “That’s silly, Harriet. I just met him,” Kathy debated, as if that fact prevented her ridiculous feelings. Odd, in some ways he was a provoking stranger; in others, it seemed she had known him…

  “Time has nothing whatsoever to do with love, Kathy dear. As with a flower, it can take months to blossom, or it can strike you instantly as a bolt of lightning,” she averred dramatically.

  “Love?” she exclaimed. “What do I know about love?”

  “That’s the point, young lady; you don’t even comprehend your own emotions. Each time you look at him, it’s written all over your face,” she carelessly announced.

  Unnerved, Kathy paled. “I’ll admit he’s the most handsome man I’ve met to date; and he’s most charming and valiant, but love him? That’s too silly to even consider. You’re just imagining things, Harriet.”

  “Have it your way, my stubborn and blind friend; but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Anyway, what’s wrong with falling in love with a stimulating man like that?” she challenged.

  Kathy already knew the plaguing answer to that question, but didn’t voice it aloud. She wondered if Landis had also misinterpreted her attraction to him. Did he think she was brazenly pursuing him and enticing him? Was that why he had loudly proclaimed his views and feelings about love and marriage? Of all the nerve and gall! Admittedly she was deeply affected by him; what woman wouldn’t be? But brazenly pursue him? Fall in love with him? Marry him? None of those things had even entered her mind! She scolded herself for acting an idiot and a flirt. No doubt Landis could have any female he desired!

  They walked to the supply tent after dousing the hanging lanterns and sealing the flaps. “Let’s turn in,” Harriet suggested. They bid the guard good-night and sealed the flap to the supply tent from the inside. Harriet showed her the thick bear skins Moore had said they could use for bedding. She tossed Kathy two heavy blankets.

  “Until we can manage a cabin or tent of our own, Kathy, I think it best if we sleep in our garments. In case of some problem, we don’t want to dash outside in our petticoats or flannel gowns.”

  They spread the skins between the U-shaped arrangement of crates and boxes. Removing their shoes and loosening their buttons and belts, they lay down and pulled the blankets over them. Within moments, both were sound asleep, ending the first day of their new existence.

  “Mrs. Pullen, time to wake up, ma’am,” the voice of Lewis Johnson called through the thick canvas walls. “The men will arrive for breakfast in a little over an hour. You ladies awake?” he asked.

  Harriet stirred and answered him, “Yes, Mr. Johnson. Thank you.” She shook Kathy’s shoulder and called her name several times.

  Kathy moaned and snuggled deeper into the warm covers. Harriet was tempted to let the girl sleep on, but didn’t. Gradually she roused Kathy. The younger woman sighed heavily. Her
lids fluttered and opened. “What time is it?” she groggily murmured.

  “Six. Breakfast must be ready at seven. Up, sleepyhead.”

  “Six o’clock! No one gets up this early. It’s still night.” Kathy rolled over and closed her eyes again.

  “Why not tell Mr. Moore you don’t want this job. Once I get the hang of things, I can manage. I’m used to hard work; you aren’t.”

  Kathy turned over to rest on her aching back. She pushed the blanket down and looked up at Harriet. “Every inch of my body hurts, and I feel as if my head just touched his pillow,” she groaned, boxing the rolled up cape which had been her makeshift headrest. “Mama always said that idle hands and too much leisure time get a person into mischief. What could I possibly do all day if I give up this backbreaking job? I suppose I’ll get used to the hard work and ungodly hours. Just give me a minute to clear my head and eyes.”

  The water in the pail was very cold. Kathy shuddered as she washed her face and hands. Harriet was dressed first and was selecting the things needed for breakfast. “While you dress, Kathy, I’ll get the fire started in the stove.” She left.

  Kathy struggled with her trunk. She opened it and withdrew a long, heavy skirt in muted greens and reds. She searched for the dark green blouse to match it. Finding it, she quickly pulled them on. Next, she drew on her ankle-length, laced shoes in shiny black leather. She brushed her hair and secured it at the nape of her neck with a green ribbon. Ready at last, she hurried to the cook tent.

  The fire was going good by then, but the tent was still chilly. “Kathy, you need a shawl, dear. It’s nippy this morning.”

  “Once I get moving, I’ll warm up. A shawl’s cumbersome.” She lifted stacks of clean dishes and placed them on the wooden tables. She added cups and utensils. “What’s next, boss?” she cheerfully asked.

  Harriet was frying smoked bacon and storing it in the warming holders. “You could mix up the pancake ingredients for me.”

  “How much flour?” she began, reaching for the sack and tin cup.

  Harriet mentally tallied the amount needed for twenty men, then answered her. “Lard?” came Kathy’s next question, continuing until the sandy-colored mixture was ready. Kathy placed the two wooden bowls near the stove on the working table.

  The coffee was perking and filling the tent with its heady aroma. Harriet said, “I’ll start the johnnycakes while you fetch the crate of syrup in the supply tent. It’s next to the entrance on the left side.”

  Kathy returned to the supply tent. She found the box mentioned and pulled out several metal cans. It was too awkward to carry them all at once, so she picked up a few and turned to leave. Landis Jurrell was there. “Need any help?” he asked, observing her loaded arms.

  Gathering her wits and courage, Kathy smiled and replied sweetly, “There are three more cans, if you don’t mind.”

  He quickly retrieved them and followed after her swaying skirt-tail. The sight was most provocative and unnerving. Kathy turned to find him watching her intently. Her fine brow lifted quizzically. For a man uninterested in women or love, his look was most appreciative! He hastily glanced away from her sensual body. “Put them down at the end of each table, please.” She did the same with her load, setting the two extra ones on the working board.

  “Anything else, Harriet, besides milk and sugar for the coffee?”

  Harriet said good morning to Landis first, then answered Kathy’s last question. Kathy took the large tin box down and passed out the sugar containers, then poured several cups of milk to join them. “All done, boss lady.” She turned to Landis and politely offered, “Would you like some coffee, Mr. Jurrell?”

  He grinned roguishly at her cool formality this morning. She was as fresh and crisp as the morning air. “If it’s no bother, Miss Hammond,” he smoothly replied; yet, he seemed tense and cautious.

  She smiled brilliantly and retorted, “None at all, sir. A gallant knight surely deserves special attention,” she merrily teased him, enjoying his disquiet for a change. Neither mentioned the night before.

  He sat down at the table nearest to the cooking area. Kathy poured his coffe and handed the cup to him, not daring to meet those taunting mahogany eyes. She turned to face Harriet. “All finished,” she announced calmly. “Do you want me to take over the other skillet?”

  “No need, dear. Good morning, Mr. Moore,” she promptly stated as their boss swept into the tent, sniffing the air.

  “Hum-m-m,” he murmured, smiling in pleasure. “What’s that tempting smell? Morning, Landis,” he nodded to his friend.

  “Pancakes, coffee, and bacon, sir,” she answered in a tremulous tone, still unsure of herself. “I found the syrup in the tent. You did say to use anything there, didn’t you?” she asked anxiously.

  He grinned. “Right. I can’t even recall eating proper pancakes. I never was any good at ’em,” he confessed, then chuckled happily.

  “Coffee?” Kathy inquired, offering a steaming cup to him.

  “Thank you, Miss Hammond. You two work wonders here. I surely hope you like Skagway and stay forever.”

  Kathy smiled, as did Harriet. “Perhaps it isn’t as bad as we first thought,” Kathy admitted, for Landis was keenly observing her.

  “Then you might be staying on?” Moore ventured, grinning.

  Without glancing at Landis, Kathy murmured, “I don’t know yet. Perhaps…” Landis’s face remained impassive, but his dark eyes gleamed with some imperceptible reaction. “Will the other men be here soon?” she inquired when he refused her bait.

  “They’re on their way now.”

  “Harriet, shall I pour the coffee and set out the food?”

  Catching the noise of the approaching men, Harriet nodded yes and returned her concentration to her task. Kathy placed the bacon and pancakes on tin plates and set them on the tables, then she poured the cups of boiling black liquid. The men entered with much the same reaction as the night before. To live and to work under such harsh conditions, they were certainly a jocular bunch for such an early hour. Kathy halted at the front table to refill Moore’s cup and then Landis’s.

  “Be careful, Mr. Jurrell,” she cautioned in a near whisper. “That black gold is very hot and dangerous,” she teased.

  He chuckled and replied for her ears alone, “Anything of value is dangerous to attain, Miss Hammond.”

  Their gazes locked for a brief moment, before she smiled and audaciously agreed, “You should know.”

  For the next hour, she rushed around serving hot pancakes and pouring countless cups of coffee. Finally the men were leaving, but not before profusely thanking both women. The two women sank down wearily on the back bench to catch their breaths before eating. “They’re a grateful lot,” Kathy said, then laughingly added, “and a ravenous one!”

  As they were eating, Moore returned to say there would be only nineteen men for dinner. “Someone quit?” Harriet innocently asked.

  “Landis left a while ago. Probably be back in six weeks.”

  Kathy’s bright smile faded instantly. Gone? Without even saying a word to her? She lowered her head to hide her reaction to this unexpected and disturbing news. Harriet quickly spoke with Moore to hold his attention away from Kathy until she could compose herself.

  After his departure, Harriet softly asked, “He didn’t tell you he was leaving this morning?”

  “Why should he? Besides, that’s one less greedy appetite to satisfy.” Yet, her expression and tone belied her flippancy.

  “I’m truly sorry, Kathy. Men are such thoughtless fools at times. He’ll be back soon. I’m sure he was just in a hurry.”

  “I don’t care if he ever shows his face in here again. He doesn’t owe me anything; nor I, him. He arrived early for breakfast; he had plenty of time to tell me he was leaving. So don’t play Cupid with me. I’m looking for my father, not some inconsiderate husband. If that’s what he thinks, too, he’s got another thought coming!”

  Kathy began to gather the dishes, calling
a halt to the conversation. Harriet watched her for a time, then shook her head. What a fine pair they could make. Too bad neither of them realized it!

  While Kathy relaxed that afternoon, Harriet checked over the supplies available, making a list of their quantities to ascertain how much she used and how quickly. That extra money could come in handy. About three o’clock, they headed for the large tent to begin supper preparations. Kathy worked diligently, but in a trance. Knowing the reason behind her melancholy mood, Harriet wisely ignored her.

  It seemed forever before supper was served and the tent was cleared and cleaned once more. Yet, Kathy eventually found herself lying restlessly on her bedroll. “Can’t sleep?” Harriet inquired into the darkness, conscious of the young woman’s tossing and turning. The poor child, one disappointment after another, she mused sadly.

  “Am I keeping you awake, Harriet? I think I’m too tired to relax,” she excused her inexplicable mood.

  There was some fumbling around in the blackness. “Here, maybe this will help,” the older woman offered.

  Kathy accepted the cup and sniffed it. “Brandy? You’re giving me bad habits, friend. I might become a drunk,” she jested, slowly draining the cup. The biting liquid warmed and relaxed her. “Thanks,” she whispered later, but there was no reply; Harriet was sound asleep. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes, drifting into peaceful slumber.

  Four

  The women’s schedule was much the same that next day. Kathy continuously found herself wondering about Landis; but refused to ask questions. Would she see him before her departure, whether she went inland to search for her father or returned to America? Why was an arresting stranger haunting her when she needed her energy and concentration to plan her quest for her father, even though she had no idea where to begin?

  About noon, Kathy and Harriet scrubbed vegetables and cut chunks of beef. While the stew was simmering, Kathy left to catch a breath of fresh air. Harriet remained in the tent, concocting a surprise dessert for the men. Kathy strolled over to the big spruce near the side of the tent. Leaning against it, she gazed out across the choppy Lynn Canal. The body of murky, whitetipped water was empty; the Victoria had sailed yesterday at dawn, and Landis had departed shortly afterwards. Yesterday? It seemed more like years ago since she had docked. She sighed in relief, then her traitorous thoughts drifted back to the distressing subject: Landis Jurrell.