Alex gave a sigh, shaking his head. He turned without bothering to answer her. There was no use talking to her in this state, he was sure of that. The best thing to do right now was to load the other sled and make their way to Jack's to get the supplies they were lacking. Luckily his own sled was still packed from his first expedition, so he already had much of what they needed. Once Gabrielle had rested and the idea of seeking the gold had settled in her head, she would see how irrational she was behaving. Snatching an overturned lantern out of the snow, Alex walked away, praying he was right.
Gabrielle paced the floor of the tiny dwelling Jack lived in, her arms crossed over her chest. "I see no other choice, Jack. Where else am I going to get the money to rebuild my trading post?"
The native stroked his beard. "You are probably right. If you want to start another post, you will need much money, money you can only get from paydirt."
She spun around to face him, her voice hostile. "So you think I should go, too?"
Jack poked an unlit cigar into his mouth, a twitch of a smile on his face. "You were the one who said you were going. You had already decided."
"Well, it really is my gold, isn't it?" she reasoned with herself aloud. "I mean it was Papa's whether he staked a claim or not."
Jack just nodded, accepting a bowl of stew Mya handed him.
"If we hit gold, I can take what I need, go to Seattle and buy provisions and build the following spring. I think I'll put my place on this side of the river, maybe farther north. The Yukon's getting busy. You see it, more and more men coming in every spring." She paced faster, words spilling rapidly from her mouth.
Jack tucked his cigar in his pocket and spooned the stew into his mouth. "It's going to break soon, Gabe, the rivers are going to run with gold."
She grimaced. "All I want is enough to rebuild; I'll not be greedy."
Mya sat beside her husband on the bench, a bowl of stew in her hand. "So go and maybe you can settle with that man of yours. There is stew in the pot for you and him as well."
Gabrielle went to the tiny cookstove to dish out her own supper. "I wouldn't be counting on us settling anything, Mya. I've had enough of that man. He's nothing but trouble."
Mya made a clicking sound between her teeth. "For a woman who usually has much sense . . ." She let her voice fade.
"I can't believe my friends are all against me. Who is he to you? A stranger, a tenderfoot, a gold seeker . . ." She blew on a spoonful of stew and sampled the savory mixture.
"He is the man you love." Mya's ebony eyes met Gabrielle's.
"Yea, well, love isn't everything is it? It doesn't mean you can live with someone. It doesn't mean they can make you happy. Look at Papa. Rouge LeBeau loved my mother till the day he died. Couldn't stand the woman, but he still loved her. Used to visit her when we were in Seattle, you know."
Jack raised a dark eyebrow. "I didn't know."
"Sure. He used to go right there where she worked, like a paying customer." She shook her head in disbelief. "He said she was the only woman for him, whore or not. Can you believe it?"
Alex came through the door with a flurry of snow. "Believe what?"
Gabrielle turned her back to him to fill her bowl again. "Nothing. Dogs fed?"
He slipped out of his parka. "They are, and the sleds are packed. We can go in the morning," he answered tersely. His patience was wearing thin. He didn't know how long he could put up with her behaving like this.
"Stew in the pot, Alex." Jack nodded his head in the direction of the woodstove. "You sure you two don't want to spend the rest of the winter here?"
"No," Gabrielle said adamantly. "We'll have to build fires to thaw the site where we dig, and then we'll just pile the dirt. When the river thaws, we'll use a sluice box and go through the dirt we've dug up all winter."
Alex turned to her. "Since when do you know so much about mining? I thought you said you never mined."
"I didn't, but you can't help hearing about it when you grow up in this territory," she told him coldly. Turning to Jack, her voice lightened. "I'm not going to tell you exactly where we're going because I think we'll all be safer that way. But I can tell you that we'll be on this side of the river, north of here, off on a small tributary."
Jack got up. "Just so you don't take chances. All the gold in the world'll do you no good if you're dead somewhere rotting on the bank come spring." He rested a hand on Mya's shoulder. "Guess we'll be turning in now. Thought we'd sleep at Mya's mother's."
"Oh, no." Gabrielle snatched her parka from a peg on the wall. "I'll go sleep there. You can put him on the floor for the night." She jerked a thumb in Alex's direction and slipped out the door before anyone had a chance to speak.
For a moment Alex just stood there, staring at the closed door. Then he placed his bowl of stew on a small table and picked up his parka. "Excuse me, will you?" he told Mya and Jack. Stuffing his fists in his sleeves he went out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
"Gabrielle," Alex shouted. He could see her form moving between the hutlike structures by the light of the moon reflected off the snow. "Gabrielle, wait a minute," he ordered through clenched teeth.
"Like hell!" she shouted over her shoulder, moving faster.
Alex ran through the snow, catching up to her. He grasped her by the shoulder, forcing her to turn around. "Don't do this to me," he threatened. "I don't know exactly what your problem is, but I can't live like this."
"You're my problem." She poked at his parka with a mitten-covered hand. "You've forced me into something I don't want to do, and I don't like it. No one tells Gabrielle LeBeau what to do."
"I didn't force you into anything." He released his grip on her shoulder but held her with his stormy gaze. "You decided to mine with me."
"Only after I had no other choice," she spat.
Alex reached out to pull up the hood of her parka, but she batted at his hands. "You're not being logical. You know I had nothing to do with that fire." He jerked up his own hood to ward off the freezing temperatures.
"I know that! I'm not that stupid." She laced up her own hood with stiff angry movements.
"Then what is it? I can't figure you out. One minute you're telling me you love me, the next—"
She interrupted before he could finish. "Who said there had to be any logic in it?" She gazed off into the distance, unable to look him in the face. "You were right; we could never be together, not permanently, and I just think it will be easier for me when you go if . . ." her voice caught in her throat, "if we just act like partners."
"You mean you don't want to sleep with me?" He caught her hand. "You don't want to make love with me any more?"
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Why does he have to look so injured, she thought. I'm the one who's going to hurt when you're gone. You've got your daughter, your mother and sisters. I've got no one. "Why are you making this so difficult?" She twisted a boot in the snow, listening to the crunch it made. They were Mya's boots, given as a gift after the fire.
"I'm not trying to make it difficult; I'm just trying to understand you, Gabrielle. You can't do this to people, you know. You can't do it to me. You have to make up your mind what you want in life." Unable to resist, he touched a lock of hair that lay against her cheek.
"I have."
"And you don't want me?" His voice was husky with emotion.
"I don't want your way of life." She pulled her hand from his, unable to stand the warmth he radiated. "I don't want your Richmond, Virginia and fancy talk. I want my dogs, my trading post, my friends. I want things to be the way they were."
Images of his father, his brothers, all of the family members lost in the war flashed before Alex. The sound of cannons echoed in his head; he heard his mother crying. "But they never can be the same, can they?" he whispered.
"No," she returned softly.
For a moment Alex stood there in the snow, in the darkness, staring at the dark figure of the woman he loved, and then slowly he turned and he
aded back for the warmth of Jack's home.
With the coming of morning, Gabrielle and Alex hitched their dogs and were off, moving north. They traveled on the frozen river, few words passing between them as they took turns in the lead. It was difficult work making headway. The sleds moved easily over the hard-packed snow; but every time they hit a snowdrift the sleds became buried or overturned, and then the dogs grew tangled in their traces. Again and again, Gabrielle and Alex unharnessed the dogs, righted the sled and rehitched the dogs only to have to repeat the process a mile farther along.
The frigid northwesterly wind whipped and howled at Gabrielle's ears until all sound was drowned out but the sound of her own breathing and the whoosh of the sled as it slid over the ice and snow. To keep herself warm she ran behind the sled most of the time, only hopping on the back of the runners when she was too exhausted to take another step. Alex followed her lead but rode only when she did.
As the day passed and the afternoon lengthened into evening, the sleds moved slower over the icy terrain. Man and dog grew weary as they moved farther from home and closer to their destiny. Finally, just after dark, Gabrielle slowed her dogs, bringing the sled to a halt. "Whoa, Tristan. Whoa boy," she ordered. "Good dog, good Tristan." Leaping off the runners she walked back to Alex. "Let's stop here for the night."
He nodded, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He'd been ready to stop a good hour ago, but he'd have sooner run behind the sled to the ends of the earth than to have told her. "Sure you don't want to go any farther?" He breathed into his mittens, trying to thaw the ice that clung to his red beard near his mouth.
Gabrielle grimaced beneath the hood of her parka. "Let me guess, you could run another hour or so?" she asked dryly. By the faint light of the moon, she caught a hint of a smile on his face, and she turned away before he saw her return the smile. "Do what you want, but we've had enough," she called over her shoulder.
Alex chuckled, watching her wade through the snow. She moved wearily, her head bent low against the driving wind. His heart swelled with pride. He had never known a woman in his life so strong willed, so willing to beat the odds in life. As she walked around her sled to get her dogs, she tripped and floundered into a deep pocket of snow. For a moment Alex stood still in indecision and then suddenly he was behind her, pulling her up by her arm and wiping the snow from her face.
"Let go of me," Gabrielle ordered, flailing her arms. "I can get up on my own."
He ignored her protests, setting her on her feet on solid ground. "Partners, aren't we?" He brushed the snow from her parka. "You'd do the same for me or Jack, right?" He watched her through the tunnel of his parka hood, enjoying her discomfort.
"Right," she answered, stalking away. "Now come on. We'll camp on the west bank."
It was nearly two hours before a fire was built and the dogs were fed. Energy waning, Gabrielle and Alex put their sleds together to make an alcove around the fire and settled on hide mats to have their own sparse meal. They ate dried moose jerky and a handful of dried berries, drinking large quantities of weak tea. Slowly they thawed before the blazing fire, leaning back against the sleds to rest. Their dogs lay around them, sleeping contentedly.
"Good first day, huh?" Alex asked. He stroked his bright red beard, brushing the last of the melted ice from it.
"Fair," Gabrielle answered. "I've made better; I've made worse." She stretched out her feet, wiggling her toes in the handmade boots as the feeling came back into her near-frozen flesh.
Alex picked up a stick and poked at the campfire roaring before them. For a long time he was silent, choosing his words carefully. Then he spoke. "Gabrielle, we're going to have to call a truce here."
"What do you mean?" She stared at the fire, not wanting to meet his gaze.
"I mean if we're going to work together, if we're going to find that gold, we've got to have some sort of an agreement."
She lifted her tin cup to her lips and sipped at her tea. "What kind of agreement?"
"We've got to agree to act like two civilized people about this. If we're going to be partners in this effort, we've got to be friends."
"I'm being civil."
"Barely." He glanced over at her, taking notice of the way the firelight played off her chestnut hair making it shimmer with red highlights.
She looked at him and he looked away. "We are friends, aren't we?" she asked, trying to make light of the conversation.
"Gabrielle, I'm too tired to go around and around with you like this. I'm talking about the fact that we can be friends and partners, without being lovers." He laid back, resting his head against the sled behind him. He'd rehearsed this speech over and over in his mind, hoping to conceal his heart-wrenching pain by the repetition of the words. "I'm gentleman enough to accept the fact that you no longer wish to be the object of my affections. But—"
She turned to look at him, swallowing against the rising lump in his throat. "But what?"
"But I can't live with you hating me. We can't work together like this. I can't."
She rolled onto her side to face him. "I don't hate you, Alex. I just don't want to be hurt. Can't you understand that?"
His gaze rested on her delicate oval face. "I'd never hurt you." He took her hand, sliding the mitten off to caress her cold fingers.
Gabrielle's eyes drifted shut. She had never imagined there could be any intimacy in one hand touching another, but there was. As he stroked the back of her hand, a warm shiver ran up her arm, spreading to her limbs. "I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose, Alex. But when you leave, it's going to hurt."
"You could go with me to Richmond."
"I couldn't." She knew she should withdraw her hand, but she couldn't. Not just yet. "I don't want to," she finished bravely.
"I know you don't," he whispered hoarsely. "But it's something to think about." He lowered his lips to her hand, kissing her palm. "I would do everything in my power to see you were happy. I'd make you my wife."
Gabrielle gave a sigh, easing her hand from his. You don't really want to marry me, she thought. You get back home with your friends and I'll soon be gone from your mind. "It would never work, Alex."
He leaned over her, his breath warm on her cheeks. "We could make it work."
"I'd hate it there. This is where I belong." She lifted a hand to stroke his bearded cheek. "Why is it so hard for you to understand that this was never meant to be?" Tears brimmed in her dark eyes as the words slipped from her lips.
"I can't accept that, Gabrielle." He leaned forward to kiss her, but she pulled back.
"Please." She touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. "Don't make it worse. You're asking too much of me. You're asking me to give up my life here for you."
"You could have a new life. My daughter needs a mother."
She was mesmerized by his deep blue-grey eyes. "I'd be an awful mother and a worse wife. Go home and find a good woman. The LeBeaus were not meant to be family women."
"Is that what it is?" He toyed with a lock of hair that curled at her ear. "You think because your mother—"
She cut him off. "I don't know what I think, all right, Alex? I'm so confused, I don't know which way is up. I said I would never love a man . . . but I fell in love with you. I swore I'd never use that map, but I'm on my way to mine for gold. I need time to think." She chewed at her bottom lip. "So let's just call that truce and go on from here."
"You'll think about my offer?" He laid back crossing his arms over his chest.
"Only if you'll think about why I'm saying no."
"If's a deal then"—he stuck out his hand to take hers—"partner."
Chapter Eighteen
Following the brittle map that had been Rouge LeBeau's, Gabrielle and Alex made their way north, traveling the solid road of the frozen Tanana river. The days passed easily as the two fell into a routine. They mushed from dawn until just after nightfall, thankful for the gradual lengthening of daylight as January slipped by. Following a tiny tributary of the Tanana, they
veered off to the right and into the mountains, making the final leg of the journey.
Near noon in early February, Gabrielle held the map in her hands, brushing the snow off the crumpled paper. Pulling off a mitten with her teeth, she traced a thin line her father had drawn with her finger. "Around this bend in the stream and we're there, Alex!" she said anxiously.
"You sure?" He leaned over her shoulder.
She held the map out for him. "See for yourself."
He looked from the map to the turn in the tributary that bent right and then to the map again. "I'll be damned," he murmured.
Folding the map carefully, Gabrielle tucked it beneath her parka and slipped her mitten back on. "Come on!" Running toward her sled, she gave one of her dogs a playful slap on the back. "Mush!" she ordered. "Mush!" The sled jerked forward, and the dogs were off, barking excitedly.
Alex followed behind, running alongside his own sled. Around the bend they went, slowing as they spotted a clearing on the bank to the left. It was a man-made clearing . . . something they hadn't seen in days.
"Whoa, whoa," Gabrielle called to her dogs, running past them. She pushed back her hood, clambering up the north bank. "This is it, Alex! This is it!" Struggling up the snowy bank, she rushed into the clearing nestled at the base of a mountain. Trees had been felled to build a crude cabin a hundred yards into the woods, and conical-shaped dirt mounds littered the clearing. Someone had been prospecting here. Gabrielle could only pray that it had been Rouge and that no one had been here since.
Alex came up the bank behind her. "You think this is it?"
The Fur Trader's Daughter: Rendezvous (Destiny's Daughters Book 3) Page 18