Gabe took his breakfast coffee to the deck. Through the morning fog he could see chunks of ice on the water and land to his right. The familiar sight of Haines Mission brought welcomed relief. They should reach Dyea’s tidal flats before sunset, which came ever earlier as fall deepened.
Though silent, he felt Charlotte come to stand alongside him before she placed her hand on his arm. She had recovered well from her bout of sickness, but his attraction to her still threatened to drown all his good intentions and determined goals.
Her simple touch reached his heart. He took a deep breath. “We’ll be home by dinnertime.”
“Home…” She stood pensive, taking in the mountainous view. “What will be there for us?”
The word us echoed through his mind. It seemed as if she had asked if their friendship could have a future beyond that of the brother and sister they would be once she married Philip.
He forced himself to ignore it. “Dyea isn’t much, but it’s home for now. Sarah will be shy at first to meet you, but she’ll warm up quick.” He purposely left out mention of his brother’s welcome.
“We live in a small room and lofts at the back of Philip’s store,” he continued. “Dottie created a homey little space back there—”
“D–Dottie who?”
Dread rose in Gabe’s chest. “Sarah’s mother.”
Charlotte withdrew emotionally and physically from him, backing toward the door to the stairs.
“She has been gone well over six months,” Gabe said, reaching out toward her. “Lottie, I’m sure Philip will let you make your own home out of the place and with Sarah.”
“Don’t!” she snapped. “Don’t ever call me Lottie again!”
Gabe was taken aback, but as he quickly reviewed what he had just said, he realized his late sister-in-law’s name was similar to Lottie’s. “I’m—I’m sorry. I never meant to use the name to change you into someone you are not.”
“Yes, you did!” she gasped. “You wanted me to replace Philip’s wife. You changed my name so you wouldn’t forget—so I wouldn’t forget—what I’m intended to be.” She shivered. “Another man’s wife.”
She disappeared into the ship before he could offer another word. Her statement held truth. Something as simple as a nickname had become a wall between them—a sobering reminder of their individual places in the pattern of life.
When the Dawson Belle anchored in Dyea’s deeper waters, Gabe dreaded finding Charlotte. He wouldn’t blame her if she refused to go ashore and demanded to return to California. Much still lay ahead of her, not the least of which was the unpredictable way Philip would react to her.
After stalling long enough with preparations for going ashore, Gabe found Charlotte’s room empty. She already waited atop deck with her luggage, watching the scow being loaded with other passengers.
“Let me go first to help you aboard,” he offered.
She raised her chin and stared straight ahead, but she allowed him to guide her down the ladder onto the other boat that bobbed in the gathering dusk.
The trip to shore seemed to pass too quickly. Gabe felt confident that he had done the right thing bringing Charlotte here as Philip’s wife, but still a nagging sensation made him uncomfortable and edgy.
He stepped off the scow and helped Charlotte onto the beach. Around them lights shone from windows of unpainted wood-planked buildings, tents, and combination wood-and-canvas structures. The streets flowed with people, horses, and dogs. In the mix of noise, music rang out from numerous businesses of entertainment even at this early hour.
Charlotte tried to take in all the activity, but her mind nervously focused on the introductions yet to come. She took a few steps and promptly stuck her shoes in mud.
Gabe immediately acted upon her plight. “Here. Let me carry you?”
“What?” Barking dogs, shouting men, chopping axes, and now this ringing in her ears as Gabe swooped her up into his arms and against his broad chest. She gasped and wiggled in an attempt to loosen his grip.
“Stop it,” he said, clenching down on his jaw. “Just don’t…just rest.”
Charlotte obeyed. His touch calmed her and created a shelter amid the ruckus all around them. Gabe gripped her close to him as he walked through the wharf area. Men leered at her, and she tucked her face into his neck, focusing only on the leather and musk scent of him.
Soon she felt him take a step up, and she looked above her to read a large sign painted in bold blue letters—MONROE‘S GENERAL MERCHANDISE.
She thought of putting her feet against the doorframe and begging Gabe for more time to prepare herself. No time, though, could erase the fact that her heart wanted one brother while her words and actions had pledged her in marriage to another.
The door swung open, and Gabe strode into the middle of a large room filled from floor to ceiling with every imaginable type of saleable goods. He proceeded with her to a back corner where a small table sat beside an imposing stove and the walls were covered with shovels, rakes, picks, and all manner of long-handled tools. Here he finally let her settle onto her own feet. She eased away from Gabe toward the heat from the stove.
A tall man with a dark head of thick hair came out from behind a long counter. “Well, my brother,” his voice boomed, “I hardly recognized you with that lovely piece of jewelry draped around your neck. Welcome to Monroe’s, ma’am.”
Gabe frowned and offered his brother a somewhat reluctant hug. “Philip.”
Charlotte removed her cape in the heat from the stove and tried not to stare as she considered the man named Philip. He looked much like Gabe, though leaner with darker eyes of gray blue.
“How was ol’ Californy?” Philip asked.
Gabe cleared his throat. “Just fine. Much the same.”
“And Father and Mother?”
“I saw them only briefly, but they are the same as always.”
“Gabe…” Philip held in check what would likely have turned into a rebuke of family affairs. Instead he smiled at Charlotte. “Where did you meet this fine lady? Whoa now…what’s this?”
Philip stepped closer to her. “Why, Gabe, she has a locket like… Gabe… This is grandmother’s locket. Dottie’s locket!” He swung around to face Gabe with an unspoken demand for answers.
Gabe shuffled his feet. “Yes. Well…Miss Vance.” Gabe sighed. “Philip, this is Miss Charlotte Vance.”
Charlotte recognized the stress he put on her full name. She held her breath.
“She has come to…” He rushed on. “Well, she has agreed to marry you and be a mother to Sarah.”
Philip looked like Gabe had struck him as he took a step back and shook his head. “What on earth…have you done?”
“Now, Philip, Charlotte—I mean, Miss Vance—comes upon the recommendation of Reverend Chiles. She is a preacher’s daughter, orphaned, and in need of a home.”
Charlotte reached for the back of a nearby chair, nearly burning her hand on the stove in the process. She took a tight hold on the arched wood.
“I don’t care who recommended her,” Philip spat.
The conversation had drawn the attention of customers in the store. Gabe lowered his voice. “You said it didn’t matter who you had for a wife as long as Sarah had someone to raise her well.”
“Hah! Sure, I could use a wife. Yes, Sarah needs a mother. But I was talking out of my grief. I didn’t expect you to go snatch a woman off the streets—pardon…church pews.”
Gabe looked like he wanted to hit him.
Philip gave a short, bitter laugh. “Don’t go trying to fix my problems, big brother. My problems are bigger than even you can manage. Stick to your own issues.”
The brothers stared at each other.
Quietly an older man approached. “Perhaps you gentlemen would like to take this out back and air it away from your customers.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow.
Philip shrugged. “This is Michael Stanton. I’ve hired him to help out around here—since you’re ne
ver around.” He spun on his heel and stomped through a rear door through which Charlotte glimpsed a smaller room and another door that seemed to lead outside. Gabe followed.
Charlotte took a tentative step, but Mr. Stanton held out a deterring hand. “You best let them handle this.”
“But…but it’s my future they’re debating,” she whispered.
“Oh, I believe it is much more than that.” He pulled a chair out from the table. “Can I get you anything, ma’am?”
Charlotte didn’t know what to do, so she sat down. “I don’t think so.”
Philip leaned against the back of the wooden building, facing a row of tent houses. Gabe stopped on the bottom of three narrow steps.
“You know it’s funny, Gabe. When I saw you with that woman, I thought you had finally gone and put the past behind you, accepted things that can’t be changed, and found someone to love.”
“You know there was only one love for me,” Gabe choked as his heart thumped. “I’m not going to up and marry someone else—especially when I’ve got so many wrongs to right.”
“If—and I mean if—Father has wronged Aileen’s family, then it is his place to confess the corn.”
“Hah. And you think he would. The man barely spent two days with us while we were growing up. We don’t know half of the business he’s cooked.”
Philip glared at him. “You could have jumped in there and found out for yourself. Father offered you half the business.”
“I’m not going to let him put a leash on me and lead me around. He’s got enough puppies in his holdings. He doesn’t need me, and I don’t need him.”
“Is that what you think of me because I took his money to set up this place?” Philip asked.
Gabe sighed. Arguing about their father never got them anywhere. “Can we just keep to the issue at hand?”
“I am!” Philip snapped. “You’re so much like Father, yet you won’t admit it. You want everything to go your way. You make a rash decision and expect everyone to fall in line with your idea. Well, I won’t!”
Gabe paced the rain-soaked patch of yard. “Just give Charlotte a chance. Look at her. Talk to her. You’ll like her. I promise.”
Philip just stared at him.
“She’s pretty. She’s a good listener.”
“If she really knew us, she’d run far away from us blokes,” Philip said with the first hint of a smile.
“She already knows most of the important things about us. Even about Father.”
“You told her about your clash with our father?”
Gabe nodded.
Philip seemed stunned. “Then you told her about Aileen?”
“She seemed to understand. She was once engaged herself.” Gabe suddenly felt warm and clammy despite the brisk wind.
“Well, my brother, I think you should marry her if she got you to say that much about yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“And I won’t—so I guess you’ll have to send her home.” Philip turned to take the steps back inside.
Gabe grabbed his arm, looking up at him from ground level. “Just give her a chance. She doesn’t have a home or job to return to. Just take a few days to get to know her. Let her help you with Sarah.”
Philip sighed and leaned back against the doorframe, studying him. “You really do care what happens to this woman.”
“I feel responsible for her.”
“And you care.”
Gabe started to protest.
Philip raised a hand. “Don’t bother. We’ll see how things go.”
“Where can we have her stay?”
“She’ll stay here.”
“But…”
“What do you think this is, high-society San Fran? This is lawless Dyea. Her situation will hardly draw notice, and we’ll, of course, treat her like a sister.”
Sister, for certain.
Chapter 3
Charlotte wandered the narrow aisles of the crowded store. Goods of all varieties lined shelves and tables or were displayed in open crates and barrels. Large piles of gold pans sat in one front corner. Above them hung several hooks full of snowshoes, which looked like misshapen tennis rackets. Hooks also hung from beams under the peaked roof, suspending large items like sleds and even a small bathtub. One little table boasted sturdy Indian moccasins, while another exhibited the best in factory-made, dual-buckle, rubber boots.
Sleeping bags, camp stools, fishing tackle, and knives awaited the outdoorsman. Nothing much held feminine appeal. Even the foodstuffs were practical. The basics filled shelves behind the counter, including odd-looking squares of dehydrated vegetables. Sacks of carefully weighed miner’s rations formed a low wall down the middle of the store.
Several men crowded the counter, attempting to dicker with Michael for the lowest prices and arguing among each other about the best ways to navigate the treacherous Chilkoot Trail. No one paid Charlotte any heed, and she soon meandered back to the corner stove. A Sears, Roebuck, and Company catalog lay open in the middle of the table, and she sat down to flip through it. If she were staying, there were some things she might need to have ordered.
A breathy whisper soon caught her attention. “Daddy.”
Where the rear door had not been tightly shut, a small pixie face peered out. Near-black ringlets dangled over dark eyes that were lined with long lashes. A pink gown in rumpled state hung down to tiny stockinged feet.
Charlotte’s heart twisted at the angelic sight.
“Daddy.” The child rubbed her eyes.
Charlotte stood and stepped toward her. “Come here, child.”
The little girl’s eyes widened. She looked behind her, then around the store at the men, who paid her no notice. Charlotte knelt down to her level. “My name is Charlotte. What’s yours?”
Stepping tentatively from the doorway, she said, “Sarry.”
Charlotte smiled. “Is that Sarry or Sarah?”
The adorable child just nodded and stepped within arm’s length of Charlotte. She studied the adult before her, then reached out. “Pwetty.” Her tiny hand clasped the locket at Charlotte’s neck.
“Oh honey…” It had been the child’s mother’s. Could she possibly remember?
Charlotte scooped up the lightweight tot and took her to the chair by the stove. She combed her hair with her fingers while the child continued to turn the locket over and over in her hand. “You got more pwetties?”
“Hmm, no, I guess I don’t have any other jewelry.” Charlotte leaned toward the child’s ear. “This is very special, and I promise it will be yours one day.”
Heavy footsteps came from the back room, and soon Gabe and Philip entered the store, filling the room with their presence. Charlotte sought Gabe’s gaze for a hint to the outcome of the brothers’ conversation. She didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t even know where to place her hope.
Gabe’s eyes widened when he saw her with Sarah. He smiled warmly, then quickly turned away.
Sarah spotted her father and squealed, “Daddy!”
She reached up to him, but Philip seemed frozen. He stared at Charlotte and Sarah for a long moment. Gabe scuffed his boots against the wooden floor and coughed.
“I hold you, Daddy.” Sarah reached for her father.
Philip propelled himself to pick up his daughter. He smiled as she hugged him and swung her around. “See, your uncle Gabe is back. You wanna give him a hug?”
The child pulled back bashfully, then suddenly she flung herself toward her uncle with arms wide open. Gabe deftly caught her in a big hug. “How’s my big girl? Well, I do believe you’ve grown while I was away.”
Charlotte enjoyed the family scene. It touched her to see grown men making such a fuss over a child.
Philip stepped away from Gabe and Sarah, approaching Charlotte. She stood.
His guarded look appraised her. “I apologize for my rather rough greeting earlier. Welcome to Alaska.”
Charlotte dipped her chin and waited.
�
��Gabe will give you a tour of the accommodations while Sarah and I dish up the stew I have simmering.” He gave her a curt nod, then retrieved his daughter.
As the two entered the back room, Gabe gave Charlotte a rather sheepish look. She would have laughed if her situation hadn’t seemed so serious.
“Sorry. I have a way of acting on some things before I fully think them through.”
She drew back. “So it would seem.” What did that mean for her?
He looked at the floor. “Philip is mad that I’ve tried to push him to move on for Sarah’s sake. He’ll get past it and come around soon enough.”
She raised her brow, waiting.
“You’ll stay. You can sort of be Sarah’s nanny while you and Philip get to know each other.” He turned his blue eyes to her. “It’ll work out. Trust me.”
Trust him? He had dragged her hundreds of miles on a whim, caused her heart to hope for love with him, and now would leave her future dangling until who knew when.
“Perhaps I should go back to California?”
“Back to what? Reverend Chiles told me you have no family, and he had not been able to secure any position for you in these hard times. Just give Philip a little while. It won’t take him long to lo—like—you as I…as I know you deserve.”
Charlotte searched his expression, but any emotion hid behind a stoic face. He extended his arm, allowing her to precede him into the back room.
Lord, hast Thou taken me into this remote land and put me through tortures of the heart just so that Thou canst use me here? I want to be able to help that child, but I so long for some of my own happiness.
Over the next several weeks, Charlotte developed a morning routine. She put the oatmeal on the stove to simmer and checked to make sure Sarah was contentedly playing at dressing her rag doll for the day. Then Charlotte took her Bible to the kitchen table that had been fashioned from a large crate and drew the rocking chair up to it. The living quarters were tight with the makeshift table and chairs taking up most of the space the small cookstove and cabinet didn’t occupy.
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