by Cassie Hayes
Anger and grief battled inside him for dominance, but no matter which won out, his heart would still be broken. And it had been there staring him in the face all this time. He could see it all so clearly now. Gemma wasn’t who she claimed to be. The only question was, who was she really?
Gemma kept her distance from Lizzy and her children, careful to not be spotted. Lizzy certainly deserved her privacy, but Gemma needed to ease her worry about the woman. She left every day in the morning, and returned every afternoon, her cheeks and nose red from being outside all day. No matter how Gemma pried, Lizzy never revealed what she did every day. It certainly wasn’t finding a new place to live.
Not that Gemma minded. She’d grown to care deeply for Lizzy, and not just because she was helping her learn to be a better cook. She was also teaching Gemma how to be a good mother. Lizzy doted on her little ones, patiently braiding Mary’s hair and answer her endless questions. John was a whirlwind, always running and playing, and though Lizzy didn’t allow him to misbehave, she gave him the freedom to let out all his energy. When he fell and skinned a knee, she kissed it and put a homemade salve on it. Then off he’d go, running, running, running.
Gemma wanted to be that kind of mother one day — a good mother. Not like Bronwen, whose most loving act was feeding her, and that was normally done through some church charity or another. When Gemma and Colton had babies…
She almost gasped at the thought. Then she smiled at it. She’d traveled to Reindeer Rock to hide out for a while until she could find a way to start a new life away from her mother. The idea her new life was just waiting for her in the tiny town had never occurred to her. After a lifetime of only associating with the dregs of society, she’d always dreamed of finding an honorable man who would love and adore her, someone who wasn’t always looking out for himself. She’d never really believed she would find him, but by the grace of God, she’d found that man in Colton.
Ducking behind a tree and leaning up against it to get her bearings, Gemma dug her nails into the bark to keep herself from laughing from the joy bubbling up inside her. She’d found true love in the most unlikely place! Her mother would be appalled — her daughter's marriage to a Mountie would certainly keep Bronwen far away — but her opinion no longer mattered to Gemma.
All that mattered was Colton.
Just as quickly as the elation had consumed her, guilt took its place. Poor Colton. So trusting, so naive. She hated hiding who she really was, but she loved him too much to ever tell him the truth. It would kill him, and then it would destroy her when he inevitably turned her out — or maybe even arrested her. Living without him had ceased being an option for Gemma, so she knew she had to do everything in her power to prevent that.
Including spying on her friend.
After all, what if Lizzy’s mysterious daytime activities somehow reflected badly on Colton? And Gemma suspected they would. Lizzy wouldn’t talk about it, but Gemma could see the shame in her dark eyes. Every afternoon when she came home, Lizzy looked exactly how Gemma had always felt after participating in one of Bronwen’s schemes. Beaten down, miserable, ashamed. Lizzy didn’t deserve to feel that way — ever — and Gemma was determined to help her friend.
Peeking around the tree, she watched Lizzy disappear into a particularly thick patch of trees. Snow hadn’t accumulated in the woods as it had done out in the open, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it would be much easier to walk on foot across mossy ground, but a curse because it would be all too easy to lose Lizzy’s tracks. She’d have to hurry or she might lose her way, and how on earth would she explain that to Colton?
At the spot where she thought Lizzy had diverted, Gemma spun a circle, searching for tracks or clues of any kind. The forest dimmed the light, so it was harder to see than in the bright white outside. Turning more slowly, she scanned bushes and paths, looking at branches and leaves for any sign of someone passing by, but there was none. They were gone.
Gemma huffed and turned to go back the direction she’d come when she realized she had no idea what direction that was. She’d lost her bearings when she’d spun circles in the middle of a dense forest. Foolish! This whole errand had been foolish. Why was it any of her business what Lizzy did?
“Curiosity killed the cat,” she said, startling herself by how loud her voice sounded in the quiet crushing down on her.
Apparently she startled someone — something — else as well. Finnegan, the rascally snow fox that had been hanging around town, jumped out of a bush and barked at her. Obviously he wasn’t very pleased she’d disturbed his nap!
“Shh, Finnegan. Be quiet.”
Finnegan tipped his head to one side and cocked his ears forward when she spoke, almost as if he was trying to translate her human words into fox speak. Gemma had always yearned to stroke his fur, wondering if it would be as soft as it looked, and she figured now was as good a time as any. Hunkering down, she waggled her fingers toward him, but he remained steadfast. She scooted closer, and though he sat up straighter, he didn’t run away. It took a minute or two, but finally the tips of her fingers reached his coat, and he leaned into her touch.
“Ooh, you’re so soft. No wonder people want to wear you. But I think I like you better alive.”
Finnegan gave a small yip, as if agreeing with the sentiment. They sat like that for a moment or two, Gemma stroking his irresistible coat and Finnegan tipping his head back in pleasure, all but begging for a head scratch. She was only too happy to oblige. She’d never been allowed a pet, but she’d never passed up a chance to play with the many strays running around the streets of Ottawa. They’d reminded her of herself — scrounging for scraps when all she really wanted was love.
“Well, Finnegan, I think it’s about time I find my way out of this mess. I think I see my footprints over that way. Thanks for the visit.”
Giving his fur one last ruffle, Gemma stood and headed in the direction she was fairly certain would lead her home. Home to Colton. Colton, who loved her beyond limits. She closed her eyes and vowed to never lie to him again. Perhaps being completely honest wasn’t an option, but she would never outright lie from that moment forward. He deserved so much better than a fraud for a wife. She would do anything to prove herself to him, and as soon as Lizzy and her children had found a new place to live, she would show him exactly how much she cared for him.
Finnegan yipped at her again, and when she turned to laugh at his silliness, she saw he’d moved farther in the opposite direction and was staring over his shoulder at her.
“Fare thee well, great heart,” she said. The rest of the Shakespeare quote was quite morbid and not at all appropriate, but Finnegan had just put his ‘great heart’ on full display.
He yipped again and trotted a few more paces away, before stopping and looking back at her once more. Almost as if he wanted her to follow him. When a pure white fox asked you to follow him, you followed. But she didn’t want to get lost in the woods, so she scuffed her heel into the mossy ground as a marker of sorts.
“Okay, what do you want me to see?” she asked as she followed him.
He led her only a short distance before taking a sharp turn. Gemma continued scuffing the dirt as she tagged along, wondering where he was leading her.
She didn’t have long to wonder, because through the foliage ahead, she could see movement. Stopping, she crouched down and crept forward, trying to stay as quiet as possible. She didn’t want whoever was up ahead to spot her, just in case they weren't friendly. Finnegan sat at the edge of a small clearing, panting happily as he watched the goings on in front of him.
A tall man who looked vaguely familiar was loading up a wooden wheelbarrow. Lizzy helped, while John and Mary played off to the side. Gemma finally recognized the man. He’d fetched Colton when Lizzy’s home had burned down. Obviously they knew each other, but what were they doing?
Gemma inched closer, trying to get a better look at what they were loading into the wheelbarrow. Jars. Filled with c
lear liquid. She gasped when she realized what it was.
Moonshine!
Lizzy brought her head up and looked around the clearing for the source of the noise. Uh oh! Gemma was about to be discovered. Before she could shimmy back the way she’d come though, Finnegan darted into the clearing, barking at everyone and generally causing a ruckus. The children chased him, Lizzy shouted for them to behave, and the man threw his head back and laughed heartily at the scene.
Gemma took advantage of the distraction to get out of there undetected. Following her scuff marks, she made it out of the woods and into the open, but relief eluded her. She didn’t want to believe what her eyes had shown her. Lizzy was the one selling alcohol to her own people!
Chapter 6
Gemma had been terrible company when Annie, Faith and Minnie had stopped by for a visit earlier in the day. They’d wanted to chat about life in the wilderness and how wonderful their husbands were. All Gemma could think about was the fact Lizzy was a bootlegger. Or at least the person selling the bootlegger’s wares. It seemed so out of character, but it explained the shame Gemma had seen in the woman’s eyes.
Gemma had felt that shame for most of her life, and she was convinced Lizzy didn’t want to be selling the alcohol. Someone had to be coercing — or even forcing — her to do the dirty work. Probably the bootlegger himself. He’d looked rather shifty to Gemma, though it had been hard to get much of a feel for him from the two times she’d seen him. He’d certainly appeared distressed when he’d come for Colton about the fire, and she couldn’t deny his laughter in the forest sounded as if it had rumbled up from the tips of his toes. But both of those things could be faked easily enough. She’d done both on countless occasions — and as Bronwen had always pointed out, Gemma wasn’t a very good liar.
Finally, the other brides had left, leaving Gemma alone to pace the floors and wonder how she was going to broach the subject with Lizzy. She still hadn’t decided by the time the woman walked through the door, but she did know it wasn’t a discussion that should take place in front of children.
“There you are!” she practically shouted as Lizzy ushered her children inside. “Mary and John, would you mind doing me a big, gigantic favor? Would you take this money to Mr. Harper’s store and buy some eggs with it? See if Olivia and Lily’s mothers will let them join you. There should be enough for one piece of candy for each of you as a reward.”
Their eyes practically popped out of their heads when she dropped a few coins in each of their hands, then they looked up at their mother for permission. Lizzy looked puzzled, but then nodded. The children were little more than a blur as they tore out of the house in the quest for treats.
“Thank you,” Lizzy said as she shrugged out of her coat and sat in a chair in front of the fire. She looked exhausted.
And sad.
Gemma pulled another chair up next to her, and together they stared silently into the flames. Finally, Gemma spoke.
“I know.”
Lizzy glanced at her, then returned her gaze to the fire. “Oh,” she replied simply. She sat for a moment longer, then stood and started gathering her and the children’s things.
“What are you doing?” Gemma asked.
“Leaving. I must find a home for Mary and John before your husband takes me.”
Gemma frowned. “Takes you? You mean arrests you? Colton wouldn’t—“
Then it hit her. Of course he would arrest Lizzy if he found out she was the one selling booze to the Indians. The practice was against the law, and Colton believed in upholding the letter of the law by any means necessary, regardless of circumstances. Gemma only had to think of how he’d wanted to chase down the little fruit thief in Ottawa to realize she couldn’t tell him about Lizzy’s activities. At least not until she found out the truth.
Gemma crossed the room and took Lizzy’s hands into her own. Only when the other woman met her gaze did Gemma ask the question that had been plaguing her all day.
“Why?”
Lizzy dropped her head. Tears slipped down her face and spattered onto the floor. Gemma pulled her into a tight hug and held her friend as she cried. As they both cried. She didn’t know why Lizzy was doing what she was doing, but Gemma knew in her heart she didn’t want to be. Leading Lizzy back to their chairs, Gemma sat and smiled as she held her friend’s hands.
“Tell me all about it.”
Lizzy hesitated, then launched into her story. It was one of pain and loss and desperation, and it tore Gemma’s heart to shreds. Lizzy’s husband had died a couple years earlier in an altercation with a French-Canadian trapper. The trapper had been sent to prison for the rest of his life, but that didn’t help Lizzy and her two small children. The Indians in the village had helped as much as they could, but the previous winter had been particularly harsh, so they'd had little to share.
Lizzy had been on the verge of starving when a big white man had offered her a small amount of money to deliver a package to one of her family members. She hadn’t asked what was in the package and she hadn’t cared. She’d needed to feed her babies, and since her cousin had seemed happy to receive the package, she hadn’t seen any harm in it.
Tragically, her cousin had died a few days later. The Mounties investigating the death had concluded he’d drunk himself to death, and Lizzy’s family and friends had blamed her. Apparently, the mystery package had contained moonshine. From that point on, no one had been willing to help her, though they would take in her children. She’d refused to be parted from them, and had tried to scratch out a living doing odd jobs around town.
“Then the white man came back,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “I told him to go away, leave us alone, I do not want his money. He said he would hurt John and Mary if I do not sell his ishkodewaaboo. His liquor.”
Gemma fumed that the bootlegger would threaten children. He’d almost fooled her with his hearty laugh and his supposed concern for Lizzy’s burning house. All he’d really cared about was keeping his operation running smoothly.
“Animal!” she spat, patting Lizzy’s hand in sympathy. “So that’s where you go every day?”
Lizzy nodded miserably. “I hate it. I hate him. When he returned several days ago, I told him I will not sell his poison to my people anymore. He set fire to my house.”
Gemma gasped, and she pulled Lizzy into a fierce hug. She had told everyone the house had caught fire while she was cooking. They cried together, holding one another close, like sisters. In fact, Gemma felt a deep kinship with Lizzy, much as she did with Annie. It seemed she collected people with shameful secrets.
“Well, it’s about time the man be held accountable for his actions,” Gemma said, pushing Lizzy to arms-length. “We need to tell Colton.”
Lizzy’s dark eyes grew wide with alarm. “No! He will take me.”
“If we tell him what the man did, how he burned down your home and threatened you—“
Lizzy shook her head vigorously, then caught Gemma’s gaze. Fear blazed in the dark depths there. “He will take me,” she said softly.
As much as Gemma wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn’t deny it. Colton didn’t believe in extenuating circumstances. Right was right, wrong was wrong, and never the twain shall meet. It pained her deeply to admit it, mostly because she’d just vowed to never lie to him again, and hiding a secret of this magnitude was tantamount to lying. But just as Lizzy had had no choice but to work for the bootlegger, Gemma had no choice but to keep the secret.
The door slammed open, making both women nearly jump right out of their skins. Colton stood in the doorway, shaking a dusting of snow from his hat, and stomping clumps of the stuff from his boots before entering.
“I’m back,” he said, his voice as cold as the air rushing in from outside.
Gemma brushed any remaining tears from her cheeks and rushed to him, hoping to distract him from Lizzy’s far more disheveled state. “You’re home early! I’m so glad.”
She stretched to give him a welcoming k
iss, but he turned away at the last second and hung his hat on a peg. How odd. He’d never passed up a chance to kiss her. He must have simply not realized…
“I bet,” he muttered under his breath, but Gemma heard it.
He stomped over to the fire, oblivious of Lizzy’s distress, and warmed his hands. “Interesting day. Caught a thief at Harper’s today. Fella was caught red-handed, but kept lying about it, as if he really believed it!”
Gemma tried a little chuckle. “Funny.”
“You think lying is funny?” he asked, turning to give her a dark look.
“No, I just… I just meant…”
“I know what you meant,” he said, turning back around.
She didn’t know what was happening, but alarms started ringing in her head. He’d been happy as the proverbial clam that morning, kissing her to within an inch of her life. What had changed in the meantime to put him in such a peculiar mood?
“What happened?” she finally ventured, treading as lightly as she could.
“I arrested him, of course. He broke the law. He must pay for his crime.”
Lizzy threw her a pointed look, as if saying ‘I told you so.’ Gemma ignored her and focused on her husband, who suddenly seemed displeased with her for some reason she couldn’t fathom. Her pulse picked up speed as a knot formed in her stomach.
“W-what did he steal?”
Colton shook his head, but wouldn’t turn around to look her in the eye. “Can of beans. Kept saying he’d brought it in with him. As if anyone walks around with a can of beans in their pocket. He’s just a lying liar! Doesn’t he know that lying just makes everyone feel like a fool?”