Her heart sank at the last thought, but she set aside the sorrow. It was too dangerous for Clara to be here, plain and simple. Even if Perkins didn’t have the tenacity to follow through with his threats against Callie out here in the bush, he had no compunction to leave her alone during her trips to town. He’d be looking for her to return. If Clara was no longer attached to Callie, he’d have no reason to target her.
That’s when she heard the rumble and clop of a horse and cart. Rapid-fire emotions of fear, sorrow and the return of terror caused her stomach to heave with nausea. She clutched the rifle in her hands and stepped away from the shed. The new arrival traveled on the main track from Skagway. Either it was a legitimate visitor or it was a ruse by Perkins to distract her from his mates moving into position all around the cabin. Callie ducked around the back of the shed, and studied the brush and tree line for ambushers.
“Ho, the cabin!”
Her head swung around, causing her vision to swim. Slightly unbalanced, she put a hand out on the shed to steady herself. Was that Daryl McKenzie’s voice?
“There’s the sledge. She at least made it home.”
Callie’s heart soared at the sound of Clara’s voice even as anger swept over her. Damn it! I told her I’d bring her things to town! And damn Daryl too for bringing her back! Wrapping herself in her choler, Callie circled back around the shed.
Clara had reached the open cabin door and peeked inside, a rifle in her hand. McKenzie stood on a cart with his rifle, scanning the yard. He saw Callie first and lowered the weapon. “I see you made it back in one piece.”
Clara drew back into the yard, grim worry in her expression. Callie didn’t know whether Clara meant to confront her or bring her gun to bear. To avoid the looming altercation, she focused on McKenzie, the lesser of two evils. “I did. Thanks for your concern. Now head back the way you came and take her with you.”
“He most certainly will not!” Clara settled the butt of a brand new rifle on the ground, her other hand planted on her hip. Callie wasn’t sure if she should be more afraid of Clara’s fury or the fact that she’d followed through on her threat to buy a gun. “You have no right to drive me away from my home.”
Her home? Where did this highfalutin woman get off saying this was her home? She’d been here less than a month and had no legal claim. Callie gathered her vexation to bypass the sudden shameful desire to roll over and bare her belly. She pointed a finger at the daunting woman in her yard, mindful not to get too close lest Clara bite it off. “Then you need to talk to the assayer’s office because I don’t recollect your name being on the paperwork.” Pleased with the logic of her argument, she breezed past Clara and into the cabin, firmly latching the door behind her.
Once inside, her confident manner fled. Clara had followed her back. Somehow Callie doubted Clara would accept Callie’s final judgment on the matter. A manic snort of laughter escaped her; Clara hadn’t let Callie have the final word on anything since she’d arrived. Why would she start now?
In counterpoint to that thought, Callie heard fumbling at the door. She held her breath, and grasped the latch mechanism, forcing it to remain closed as Clara struggled on the other side. Her ribs ached with the effort.
“Callie Glass, you open this door right now!”
Even her split lip couldn’t interfere with the inexplicable grin teasing Callie’s mouth. She recalled a similar and more juvenile incident with Jasper, mad as a hornet, stymied by this very same tactic. Callie huffed laughter at the exasperation in Clara’s voice. I’m going crazy, that’s it.
Clara scrabbled at the door. “I mean it! Right now!”
McKenzie called from the cart, “I’ll just unload these things here on the porch.”
Callie held onto the latch for dear life, not certain whether she wanted to laugh hysterically or cry. Jasper was dead, Perkins wanted to drive her away—maybe kill her—and the woman she was trying to protect was having none of it.
Clara stopped trying to get inside. The abrupt cessation dashed the humor from Callie’s face. She put her ear against the door. What would Clara’s next move be? Would she try at one of the windows? The sight of prim and proper Clara climbing through a window might almost be worth the bother. Callie heard movement and the sound of heavy items being placed on the ground as McKenzie unloaded Clara’s purchases. “If you don’t open this door,” warned Clara in voice barely audible through the wooden door, “I’ll use your full given name in front of Mr. McKenzie.”
Callie blinked, mouth agape. She hated her full given name with a passion, and the only person who’d known it besides her parents was buried on the edge of the yard. She turned, back against the door to scan the cabin. Did Clara really know? “You’re bluffing.”
“Try me, Calpurnia.”
Aghast, Callie threw open the door to stare at Clara. A hasty glance showed McKenzie out of hearing range at the cart. “Where did you hear that?” she demanded in a whisper, the situation no longer humorous.
Clara strode past, nose in the air. “I have my sources.”
Her domain thoroughly invaded, Callie crossed her arms over her chest, partially in defiance but the stance helped to hold her chest still. The less movement the better at this point. Her pain had moved past discomfort and into the realm of serious distraction.
Clara walked a circuit of the cabin, nose wrinkling at Callie’s rumpled bed. She leaned the new rifle against a chair and opened the shutters to allow fresh air inside. “You’ll be happy to know that Jamie Perkins is currently lounging in a saloon with a spittoon as a pillow. Though he should probably be awake by now.” She removed the light coat she wore, and hung it from its hook by the door. “The odds against him attempting anything more today are rather steep.”
The news loosened a knot in Callie’s chest. She didn’t allow her relief to melt her resolve as far as Clara was concerned. “Regardless, you’re not staying here. I don’t need you and I never wanted you!” She shouted the last, internally wincing at the crestfallen expression on Clara’s face. Buck up! You’re saving her stubborn life. “You don’t belong here, Clara, not by a jug full. This is my land, my place and my mess.”
“Has your head always been full of wool, or is this a new development?”
Callie blinked at the ferocious woman in her cabin. Her self-deprecating anger disappeared, overshadowed by the tempestuous glare in Clara’s dark hazel eyes.
“Well, let me remind you of a thing or two,” Clara continued. She marched forward, poking Callie in the sternum. “You. Don’t. Own. Me.” She dropped her hand, and mirrored Callie’s stance, arms across her chest. “Your brother invited me here, and I’ve stayed long enough that I doubt the law would be on your side. You can go back to the assayer’s office and begin eviction procedures if you wish, but I doubt you’ll get anywhere with them.”
“Eviction procedures…?” Callie started to shake her head. She stopped when her brains rattled and the dull ache behind her eyes grew stronger.
“Possession is nine tenths of the law, I’ve heard. If you want me out, you’ll need to secure a lawyer.” Clara’s smile was smug.
“A lawyer?” Callie gaped at Clara’s self-satisfaction, her anger rapidly making a comeback. “Leave it to a brassy woman like you to threaten a lawsuit where you’re not wanted. What I need is to bend you over my knee and spank the living daylights out of you!”
Clara gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?” Callie rolled up a sleeve, taking a step forward, immensely pleased that Clara no longer acted so superior. Instead she backed away, hands out and palms forward in a supplicating gesture.
“I’ve put everything on the porch.” McKenzie stood a healthy distance outside the doorway. “I’ll be heading back to town now.”
“The hell you will! Not without her!” Callie whirled to confront him. Her vision blurred. The edges of it darkened and she squinted at McKenzie. Why was the door listing to one side?
When her vision cleared aga
in, she was seated at the dining room table. Clara knelt beside her and caressed her face. Callie shivered at the touch, feeling her heart vibrate in her chest.
“She all right?” McKenzie asked.
Callie turned her head, hearing her neck creak. He’d entered the cabin and stood on the other side of her, hand on her shoulder.
“She seems to be.” Clara’s caress drifted down to Callie’s other shoulder.
A spark of annoyance reasserted itself. “Hello. I’m right here. Quit talking like I ain’t.”
McKenzie chuckled. “Yep. She’s all right.” He released Callie and headed toward the door. “I’ll be going now.”
Clara stood, but remained at Callie’s side, still touching her. “Of course. Thank you so much for doing this. I never would have gotten here without getting lost once or twice.”
McKenzie doffed his hat to Clara. “Remember, stick to the left trails…”
“Except where I need to stick to the right. Of course.”
He reseated his hat on his head and winked at Callie. “And you get better, sprite. You’ve got a trapline to run.”
Still out of sorts from her near faint, Callie nodded. “Yes, sir.” She sat in mute silence as he listened to his horse clop away. So much for driving Clara off.
Clara let out a breath. “So. That’s that.” She squeezed Callie’s shoulder. “Let’s get you comfortable and back into bed. Once that’s done, I’ll cook up some breakfast. I bet you’re starved.”
Callie internally measured the breadth and width of her body. “I reckon I could put something on my stomach. I’m not hungry though.”
“That’s the injuries talking.” Clara stroked her hand down Callie’s arm, taking her elbow and urging her to stand. “Once you’ve had some food and rest you’ll feel better.”
Allowing herself to be led away, Callie wondered why she’d let Clara domineer her yet again. What was it about the woman that counteracted every attempt Callie made to drive her off?
Not long later, Clara had administered the pain medication the doctor and Callie had left at the hotel, and Callie no longer felt the depth of her aches. She drowsed in bed as she watched Clara put on water for tea and prepare broth. What was it about Clara? At first glance she seemed weak, ineffectual, a prissy high society girl who’d complain about the smallest obstacle. But that slight exterior hid a tenacious formidability, one that Callie was beginning to learn wasn’t easy to overcome. Was that why she couldn’t stand up to Clara? Was Clara the stronger of the two of them?
Despite the dissident thoughts, Callie listened to Clara hum as she worked, filled with a sense of peace that had nothing to do with the medicine she’d taken. Though Callie had never been much one for women’s work, as a child she’d always enjoyed watching her mother cook or sew. A woman in the house, one who truly enjoyed being there, was what made it a home, gave it a soul. Callie hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that until Clara had arrived to show her different.
It was more than that though. Clara wasn’t just any woman. Callie liked Clara, enjoyed her chatter about her day at meals or her plans for bettering the homestead. Clara had a sharp wit that matched Callie’s and was quick to catch a play on words. Even the trip into town had become fun with Clara at her side, overshadowing the best of times with Jasper. Without expecting it, Clara had become Callie’s friend.
She drifted to sleep on that thought, dreaming of a friendship that she’d never had but had always envied in others.
Chapter Fourteen
Dearest Emma,
My, but it seems like forever since I last saw you! I miss you dearly each and every day, and so wish that you could be here at my side to experience the majesty and wonder of the wilderness here! You must plan a visit as soon as may be!
In my last letter, I regaled you with descriptions of my new home. I have produced a number of changes about the homestead since then.
For one, I have put in my very first garden! The beans and cucumbers are doing quite well. Alas! My corn does not appear to appreciate its current location. I expect I will need to move that crop to an area that receives more sunlight. There is a perfect spot near the smokehouse, but I am concerned that the smoke will interfere with plant growth. I suppose it is an experiment best left for next spring.
I also have tried my hand at building a fence for the garden. While not an extreme success, it has done well enough to keep the plentiful deer from nibbling through the vegetation. The next time we go to town, I will see if I can locate some chicken wire. Perhaps if I attach it to the bottom of the fence, it will repel the plentiful rabbits that have discovered a liking for my carrots.
Additionally, I cajoled poor Callie into building a more permanent solution for my rudimentary clothesline. Now after laundering clothes, I am not concerned about the amount of space I have to hang the wash. She still blushes when she sees her underclothes on the line however. She can be so prudish over the silliest of things!
Callie, how can I describe her to you? I find the English language exceedingly lacking in this regard. I cannot seem to find the words. (I can hear you laughing now. Me? Speechless? It must be a sign of Armageddon. Quick! Call Reverend Marsters!)
She has golden hair that falls halfway down her back. It is an absolutely beautiful hue, and reminds me of early morning sunrise upon a meadow. And her eyes! They are a striking blue with dark rims around the iris. She is as tall as I, which is a wonder. You recall how I always towered over the other girls. Her skin has a golden glow from living outdoors. My mother would have a conniption over it. And freckles! Callie has the cutest smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
You would think there would be a line of suitors tramping the fifteen miles between Skagway and the cabin to call upon her, but nary a man has shown interest. It is such a shame that her beauty languishes so, though I cannot help but be relieved. Would she have allowed me to remain if she had a husband on hand? I very much doubt it. Besides, I am not quite certain she would appreciate having a husband. She is not inspired by the feminine arts.
Do you recollect the women we saw near the theater on Federal Street that one time? Harsh looking women, they were, their walks and gestures more masculine than expected. Callie reminds me very much of them. She has the same air about her, the same manly ways of moving. Though some might be put off by such a deviance in behavior, I find it quite striking in a woman of her stature and beauty. The women on Federal Street seem more brutish in nature than Callie could ever be.
I wonder at times if she takes after her brother in temperament. If so, I can only mourn his passing more for he would have made a fine husband had he been half the man. It has been a mere two months since his demise, and Callie still feels the bite of his loss. As much as I wish to comfort her, she shuns my touch. Perhaps she is concerned with losing control of her emotions if she were to allow her vulnerabilities to show. If there is one thing she cannot stand, it is appearing weak and ineffectual, an odd affliction from a woman who is the strongest, emotionally and mentally I have ever known.
She says she does not want me here, and I have been firm in my resolve to stay. On our first trip into town, one week past, there was an altercation between her and a man who I can only charitably name a layabout. Callie jumped into a brawl, defending my honor! It was both exhilarating and horrifying! I feared for both our lives! The end result was her being knocked unconscious with a multitude of injuries.
A friend arrived in the nick of time, but Callie has been recuperating from broken ribs among other things. She attempted to utilize her defeat in the fight as reason enough for me to go—she being unable to protect me from the world and its ills. We engaged in a healthy “discussion” over the matter and she eventually capitulated. Whether she yielded due to my logic or her constraining injuries is debatable, but I was more than happy to accept her surrender.
The doctor was by yesterday afternoon. She is healing well. He has stated she can return to the trapline in two days’ time.
She has spent many hours in concern that she is unable to work it. Certainly the moneys I received from my father will keep us well until Callie can return to trapping. Such sentiments do not ease her heart. She spends much of her time attempting to be as solid as a rock, not realizing that rock can be brittle and break.
If I knew where to go and what to do, I could ease her worries. Until presently, however, she and I have been satisfied with my taking on the standard household chores. My next task is to convince her that I am capable enough to learn the trapline. While I do not expect medical emergencies such as this to happen often, it is best to be prepared for any eventuality, think you not?
Me running a trapline! Did you ever dare think it? Not I, not even in my wildest imagination!
I have just read over this letter and I must say that I am positively blushing. Waxing poetic over Callie to my best of friends? You must think me a loon. Or a fickle friend, prepared to toss your sweetest of companionship aside for the first person that comes along. I swear to you that such is not the case! You will always be my deepest and dearest of friends, Emma. But I cannot argue that Callie Glass has most certainly come to reside in my heart with the fondest of affections. At times I wonder at the rapidity and profoundness of my emotions, and would they have fixated on Callie so firmly had Jasper still been alive? And what if they had? Could I have remained married to a man when my heart belonged to his sister?
My goodness! I cannot believe I just wrote that. Oh!
Clara carefully set her pen down, studying the words she’d written. Slowly, to avoid notice, she turned her head to check on Callie.
Callie slumbered in her bed, a hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her face was relaxed in the late evening sunlight, the brush of freckles plainly evident on her face. She’d lost some of the golden tan with a week indoors, and her thin frame had become frailer from bed rest, though Clara doubted it would take much time for Callie to be back to her irascible self. She’d been a force to be reckoned with as she struggled back to full wellness, and it wouldn’t take long to finish her healing.
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