Golden Torment

by Janelle Taylor

  “You can’t go to work in a sleazy saloon!” Jack declared.

  “I can, and I will,” Kathy stated defiantly, chin stuck out in determination. “If Smith has that file, I’ll find some way to steal it. And if you dare say one word to Landis about this, I’ll never speak to you again, Jack. I swear it,” she alleged, utterly serious.

  “Kathy, it’s dangerous and foolish,” he argued.

  “I’ll get his damn file back and throw it in his smug face! Besides, I can’t leave until it’s recovered. Whenever you’re well enough to travel, Jack, I want you to take me to Dawson. I’ll pretend I’m taking the job to look for my father. I’ll tell Soapy I broke up with Landis. Knowing my husband so well, that will sound logical. I’ll say I’m only staying for a few weeks, then I’m leaving for America.”

  “Don’t do this, Kathy,” Jack pleaded.

  “I must, Jack. I have no other choice.”

  They reasoned and argued. Kathy was obstinately set on carrying out this deadly farce. She faced Jack and demanded, “Whether you help me or not, give me your word of honor you won’t tell a soul.”

  Jack was forced to say, “You win, Kathy. Just make sure you’re careful. When do we leave?”

  She promptly answered, “Today, as soon as I’m packed, if you’re well enough to travel.”

  Jack acquiesced, “The sooner we get on that cold trail, the better chance we have of succeeding. I’ll pull you out if you make one false move. I just pray old Soapy hasn’t burned the file by now.”

  “Don’t even think such a thing, Jack,” she wailed.

  Jack added one last caution, “Don’t you think it strange Landis is always the one around to rescue you? To spy on you, first he had to get you alone with him. Clearly the marriage ruse failed him.”

  Kathy stared at him. “Surely you don’t think he arranged that attack?” she protested, defending her mercurial husband.

  “He appeared awfully desperate last night,” Jack stated. “And what about that mysterious letter to lure you to Log Cabin and him?”

  “You’re talking about cold-blooded murder, Jack.”

  “You’ve seen his violent temper, Kathy. You don’t feel he’s capable of it? Stay clear of him, Kathy,” he warned as he departed.

  Jack went to Moore’s cabin to get his possessions. This time, Kathy packed much differently. She folded lovely dresses and shoes. She added some ribbons and two wool shawls. “If I’m going to become an entertainer, I must dress the part,” she teased, drawing laughter from the returning Jack.

  She sent for Griff. When he arrived, she asked him to live in her cabin until she returned. “If it looks deserted, someone might be tempted to plunder it. Would you mind, Griff?”

  He grinned at her faith in him and her need of his personal help. “I’ll be glad to help ye, Mrs. Kathy.”

  “We’ll join Landis in Stewart. I should be gone around six weeks. If I haven’t located my father by then, I’ll be back,” she necessarily misled him. “Here’s the key. Use anything you need.”

  Kathy told Harriet the same tale, then bid her and her boys farewell. Harriet fretted over another trip inland, but Kathy convinced her it was for the best. Kathy wisely didn’t tell her friend what she would be doing there, to prevent her fears and worries.

  They rented one of Harriet’s horses to carry the extra weight, promising to send it back by one of Moore’s men working inland near Lake Bennett. Checking her shrinking purse, Kathy concluded this job with Soapy would accomplish more than one need. Many had told her Landis was wealthy, but he hadn’t shared any with his wife! Ship passage and her return trip from Seattle to Washington would be expensive.

  “Why Washington?” Jack quizzed as they headed off.

  “It seems like the logical place for a fresh beginning.”

  “Maybe I’ll be ready to leave. We could enjoy each other’s company on the voyage. I think I’ll head back to San Francisco or perhaps New York. This cold ails me. Watch your step; it’s icy along here,” he warned.

  Afterwards, they travelled in watchful silence, the perils countless and the trail narrow. Soon, Landis, she pondered before focusing her full attention on the demanding trek. Soon, it will be settled between us. I’ll be gone forever from your land of golden torment…

  Seventeen

  For most of the journey along the bank of the predictable, now ice-matted Yukon River, Kathy was too preoccupied by her impending charade to think of the harsh weather and precarious conditions surrounding her. Her thoughts were of reaching Dawson and initiating her daring ploy. Many times she envisioned the shocked face of her self-assured, arrogant husband as she proudly and tauntingly slapped his precious file into his hands. Would he even admit he had been mistaken? No, he would probably believe the file had been in her possession the whole time! He would probably think she was feigning the dauntless heroine to impress him and to enchant him with her cunning and generosity! Kathy refused to consider the danger, should she be discovered. She didn’t want Landis’s enforced gratitude or fake respect, just his loyalty and love. To leave this tormenting territory, she had to sever all bonds to everyone.

  Nearing their destination, a blizzard assaulted the land. Jack read the signs of nature, frantically striving for shelter. The snow was falling so heavily they could barely see; the winds so brisk, standing up was difficult, biting their flesh through their garments. The howling wind and freezing air tortured lungs and throat as they gasped to breathe, wheezing in near-futile attempts. A blue-white haze hung heavily in the air, obliterating the scenery.

  Trees swayed precariously. Snow piled into lofty drifts. A thundering noise indicated a sturdy branch had brutally snapped from its host, several thuds echoing as it hit other obstacles on its deathly plunge to the frozen ground. The elements emitted eerie, mournful cries as the earth painfully relented to their attack. One thing was in their favor: the blizzard was to their backs, striking them at an angle as if to forcefully drive them on toward survival. Kathy had difficulty with her snowshoes as nature weighed them down with an abundance of white misery. The horse neighed and held back, forcing Jack to yank and pull on his bridle and speak comforting words. His glittering eyes and nervous prancing displayed his terror, as if he instinctively smelled death.

  Kathy’s legs and feet were becoming numb and weary. Her body felt as if burdened by pounds of dirt. She actually feared they were going to die. She prayed in rising panic. Jack wasn’t doing well either. He was weak and pale, his body steadily draining of all energy. His legs ached at the strain; yet, he knew the folly of halting. If only they could reach Hard-Nose Pete’s cabin, less than a mile away…

  Jack froze in his tracks, causing Kathy to topple against him. He shouted over the thunderous din, “We’ve got another half mile! Pete’ll give us protection in his cabin! I’m going to unload the horse! He’ll never make it with weight on his back! I’ll fetch our things when the blizzard lets up!”

  Kathy nodded in understanding, knowing to be heard would rip at her throbbing throat. She followed closely, having been warned they could lose sight of each other in three feet. She held the reins while he took off the bundles, hiding them behind a cluster of white-laden tree trunks. Afterwards, he was panting, agony written on his face.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this!” she yelled over the wind.

  He smiled, motioning her to follow. Within four hundred feet of the cabin, it couldn’t be sighted through the fog and snow. The unforeseen happened. The horse whinned and reared, nearly yanking the reins from Jack’s grip. Jack comprehended their imminent peril. A gusty wind caused icicles to tinkle like silver wind chimes, too cold for them to melt.

  He instantly tied the reins to the nearest tree and whipped his rifle off his shoulder. He seized Kathy and slammed her against the trunk, positioning himself between her and what he knew was coming at them. He was tense and alert, straining to catch the next sound. He shouted to Kathy, “Get your gun, Kathy! Wolves! Hungry ones!”

  She
trembled, recalling Landis’s words about their carnivorous appetites. “Damn! They can smell us, but we can’t see them!” Jack thundered in alarm. The suspense was suddenly heavier than the snow.

  Kathy seized her gun and cocked the hammer, her hand shaking. Had to be a pack, Jack mentally assessed, growls and snarls coming from several directions. Should he leave the horse as bait and make a run for it with Kathy? Trouble was, some might take it but others would pursue them. Backed against a tree offered their flank some protection.

  “Will they attack?” she shouted, her eyes wide with terror.

  “Yes! Don’t waste bullets! Aim at their golden eyes!” he instructed, not daring to waste any ammunition by carelessly firing warning shots into the air. When wolves smelled food and fear, they wouldn’t give ground.

  The leader of the pack charged first, darting forward to slash at the horse’s hind leg. Jack shot at the furry gray blur moving with exceptional agility and speed. The horse danced madly in pain and fear. The attack was cunning and swift. A wolf viciously nipped at the animal’s foreleg; another severed a tendon in a hindleg, causing the agonized creature to buckle, then remove his weight from it.

  Kathy fired two ringing shots, while Jack managed to hit the flank of the other. With the smell of blood and victory came a frenzied attack by three more wolves. Kathy was close to the horse’s head and saw one wild beast as he leaped at the animal’s throat. The frightened horse reared to avoid those gnashing teeth, landing his hooves on the wolf’s body. The wolf howled and momentarily retreated.

  Jack was firing almost constantly now as two wolves charged from different directions, their primary interest still the horse. Kathy struggled to visually pierce the dense snow. Suddenly she realized what was lurking before her horrified vision. A lone wolf was standing motionless within three feet of her, seeming to devour her with its yellow eyes. He was powerfully built, all lean muscle, a thing of savage beauty. He was three and a half feet long. His thick, lush coat was a blending of gray and yellow with black patches. Kathy could detect the strength, vitality, and extraordinary cunning within him. He was master in this situation. He killed without mercy or feeling, his one instinct survival. Frozen in awe and heart-stopping terror, she almost sensed an evil intelligence in those keen eyes. Was he the leader, the one who controlled this calculated attack?

  He stood there watching her, as if smugly challenging her to shoot him. Hypnotized, she couldn’t raise the gun and pull the trigger. As if to flaunt his only interest in her, he passed his tongue over teeth like white razors. He stared a moment longer, then disappeared into the rain of white flakes. Kathy knew who was the superior one in this perilous situation: that predacious beast.

  “Shoot!” Jack stormed, startling her from her mesmerized state.

  She fired at any moving object, dreading the outcome of this battle. Jack painfully nudged her. “Don’t waste bullets! Get ’em in sight first!” he hoarsely commanded, sensing her panic.

  The horse sent forth a startling noise of anguish as one wolf slashed down his flank and bared inner flesh to the stinging elements and the wolves’ greedy senses. The virgin white ground was spattered with crimson life. The snarls moved closer, increasing in volume and frequency. Kathy knew without Jack telling her; they were moving in for the kill. She shuddered in dread. This was no way to die! Where are you, Landis? she thought desperately. I love you.

  “Cut him free!” Jack repeated his order.

  “He’ll run and they’ll…”

  “Damnit, Kathy! Free him or they’ll take us down, too! If they chase him, we can make a run for Pete’s! Do it!” he thundered.

  Kathy pulled her knife from its sheath. Trembling, she could hardly saw through the near-frozen reins. The leather restraint gave way under her frantic attempts. The horse spurred into flight by his sudden freedom. He staggered a few feet in the soft snow with his debilitating injuries before the snarling pack was on him. They snapped at his throat, slashed at his legs, and ripped at his vulnerable underbelly. The roan thrashed wildly, trying to defend himself against impossible odds. A wolf leaped on his back as he sank into the snow; one perfectly placed gnash with those powerful jaws and sharp teeth ended the horse’s agony as his spinal cord was severed.

  As if of one mind, the wolves aggressively tore at the downed animal, ripping into warm flesh with fierce determination to taste their bloody victory. Kathy witnessed this violent, primitive slaughter. She was too petrified to be sick. She closed her eyes and swayed against the tree, wondering when those relentless beasts would come for them.

  Jack pulled her to his hard body. He placed his finger to his lips for silence. He inched from the tree, compelling her with his remaining strength and will. He moved slowly to avoid catching the eye or ear of a feeding beast. Kathy blocked out the noise of their ravenous meal. She swallowed with difficulty, mere breathing a labor. Jack maneuvered her before him, sidling as he prodded her on while he kept his keen eyes to their rear.

  Jack came to another abrupt halt, his action and grip stopping her movements. She turned to glance at him. He was rigid and alert. She tensed as she realized why; only the wind could be heard. The wolves were totally silent. Did that mean they were stalking them again? Couldn’t they be content with the horse?

  “Shoot me!” she screamed in terror. “Don’t let them rip me apart!”

  As he glimpsed blurs to his right and his left, the leader signaled the attack, racing at them full speed. Jack whirled and stuck his gun in her face. Just before pulling the trigger, shots rang out behind them. Yelps of pain could be distinguished above the wind as bullets struck their targets.

  Jack whirled and fired point blank at the wolf leaping at them, sending his bullet into the wolf’s chest and hurling his powerful body back into the snow. They were joined by two men, faces hidden by furry hoods and snowglasses. Combining forces, the pack fled to their downed and safer prey.

  With Kathy and one rescuer facing frontwards and Jack and the other man walking backwards, they made their way to Hard-Nose Pete’s cabin—for it was Pete who had rescued them. Once inside with the door barred securely, Kathy collapsed to the floor to still her racing heart and to master her erratic respiration. Alive and safe kept ringing in her mind.

  One of the men dropped to his knees before her, pushing back his hood and pulling off his snowglasses. He inhaled sharply at seeing her. “You all right, Mrs. Jurrell?” he asked in concern.

  Kathy looked up into the face of Trace Blitch of the North-West Mounted Police. For once, it wasn’t Landis to her rescue. She was relieved—and disappointed. Her mouth dry, she merely nodded, smiling her gratitude. God, how she was tempted to burst into tears! She craved Landis’s comforting arms.

  “Let’s get those snowshoes and parka off and get you over to the fire. You’re frozen clear through,” Trace kindly offered.

  She sat down on the bare floor while Trace unfastened the riggings on her snowshoes. He helped her to her feet, but she swayed precariously against him. He steadied her, then unfastened her parka. He attempted to remove it, but it wouldn’t pass over the gun still tightly clutched in her rigid hand.. “Give me the gun, Kathy,” he firmly stated, pulling it from her relaxing grip. The parka came off and was tossed into a chair. He gingerly removed her snowglasses, viewing the stinging bites of ice and wind upon her beautiful face. Her breathing was still ragged as he prodded her over to the hearth. He brought her some coffee and told her to sit down on the bearskin spread before the fireplace. She obeyed automatically, clutching the cup to warm her hands. Trace observed her intently.

  She remained stiff and silent, as if in shock. Trace coaxed the cup to her pale lips, encouraging her to sip the warm liquid. She did so without realizing she was obeying. He studied her for a few moments as Jack and Pete removed their gear and parkas. He went to his pack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured two fingers into a metal cup. He held it to her lips and commanded, “Drink this, Kathy.”

  She complied, insta
ntly coughing as the fiery liquid spread flames down her throat. Tears filled her eyes and helplessly spilled down her wind-blistered cheeks. She winced at the smarting sensation. Trace immediately dried her eyes and face with great gentleness, then smeared some healing ointment there.

  Between the stimulating coffee, strong whiskey, glowing fire, and the Mounty’s aid, she began to relax. Kathy met Trace’s lingering gaze and smiled. “Thank you, Mounty Blitch. Am I still alive?” she jested to dispel her remaining tension.

  “Very much so,” he responded, returning her grateful smile.

  “How can we ever repay you? We were beyond hope. They killed Harriet’s horse,” she remarked breathlessly.

  “Better to feed on him than you,” he teased.

  “I suppose so, but it was awful,” she confessed with a shudder.

  “Still cold?” he instantly inquired.

  “Not anymore, thanks to you,” she murmured appreciatively.

  “I didn’t charge those devils alone. Pete helped me. Mounties are famous for their timely rescues. But I’ve never experienced one with such beautiful results,” he complimented her with a chuckle.

  Kathy thanked Pete. He and Jack were warming themselves with some whiskey, chatting about their neardisaster. “Seems like you have three uninvited guests tonight, Pete,” Trace stated, laughing mirthfully. “Appears old Landis owes us a heavy debt,” he added.

  “Good timing if you asked me. Plenty of victuals and firewood. Lots of lonely hours to ease. Don’t mind seeing a pretty face neither,” Pete rambled, toying with his scraggly beard.

  “You get waylaid by the storm, too?” Jack asked Trace.

  “Afraid so. I was in sight of Pete’s when she cut loose. What are you two doing out in weather like this? Where’s Landis?”

  “We’re going to Dawson. Kathy’s gonna…”

  Kathy coughed loudly to warn Jack to silence. Trace seized the unspoken message between them. Kathy stated, “We’re taking one last look for my father. We plan to hang around a few weeks, then head home if nothing comes up. Landis should meet us there.”