The Fur Trader's Daughter: Rendezvous (Destiny's Daughters Book 3)

by Colleen French

  "If his map was right, this is it," she whispered. An eery feeling swept over her as she walked through the old camp toward the cabin. It was built with whole logs, the cracks chinked with mud from the tributary; it couldn't have been more than ten feet by ten feet.

  Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle cut the leather thong that held the door shut with her knife and pushed it open. Letting the sunlight flood the cabin, she stepped inside. It smelled of damp wood and dust, of animal droppings and smoke. It also smelled of Rouge LeBeau. "This is it, Alex," she whispered. "Papa was here."

  "What do you mean? How do you know?" He pushed in the door behind her, surveying the barely adequate shelter.

  "I know." Her voice was haunting. "I can feel him; I can smell him; I can hear his laughter." She ran her hand along the interior wall, years of dust clinging to her mitten. Rouge hadn't even stripped the trees of their bark before he'd begun construction. The cabin was obviously meant to be temporary; he had built it just to keep the rain and snow off his back while he mined.

  Alex draped his arm over Gabrielle's shoulder, staring at the refuse that littered the floor: a tin pot with a hole in it, a pile of Scotch bottles, an old rotten shirt. The things meant nothing to him; they were junk. But to Gabrielle, he knew, they meant memories, some good and some bad.

  Gabrielle choked back tears as she stared at the crude wooden table against the wall. "Oh, Papa," she sighed. "Why did you have to die?" Wiping her tears with the sleeve of her parka, she turned and went outside. Alex followed quietly behind her.

  "He always told me he wasn't going to be here for me." She sniffed, blinking back tears. "He knew. Somehow he knew." She looked out over the frozen stream at the mountains in the horizon, at the trees stretching high into the blue sky, and she sighed. "So?" She turned to Alex, who stood silently behind her. "Where do we start, partner?"

  The following morning, Gabrielle and Alex began the formidable task of excavating. Choosing two spots, they built fires and began to thaw the permafrost. Their plan was to dig shafts and pile the dirt, just as Rouge had done, and then in May they would begin Spring Clean-up. Once the stream became accessible, they could use a sluicing process to wash the lighter dirt away, leaving the gold, if it existed, in the bottom of the sluice box.

  Gabrielle and Alex quickly realized that the process of excavating was slow and arduous. While Alex cut wood to fuel the fires, Gabrielle tended them. Then, late in the afternoon, the two dug side by side, barely making eight inches of gravel a day. A week after they'd arrived, they both agreed to try a sample of the dirt, panning it for gold. The few shallow shafts left by Rouge led them to believe they were right on target, but still they couldn't help wondering if they were wasting their time.

  Nervously, Gabrielle heated a pot of snow until it melted and dug her gold pan out of a bag in the cabin. Without a word passing between them, Alex dumped a handful of dirt into the pan and added water. With great ease, she rocked the pan to and fro, letting the water wash down the front of her parka as it lifted away the dirt. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered a silent prayer and poured the rest of the water onto the frozen ground.

  For a moment, Gabrielle and Alex stood stricken in disbelief. There, in the bottom of the rusty pan, glimmered tiny slivers of gold.

  "God, Alex, look at it," she whispered.

  He stuck a finger into the pan and pulled out a minuscule lump, holding it up in the sunlight. Part of the rock was black, but a part of it shimmered in the light.

  "This is it, Gabrielle," he told her, his voice hushed. "This is what it will take to get my daughter back, to restore my home—"

  "To build my new trading post . . ." she added.

  Alex looked at her, the smile fading from his face. "Yea." Pulling a small leather bag from inside his parka, he slipped the slivers of gold safely inside and turned away. "Better get back to work, looks like we've got a storm coming in."

  Dejectedly Gabrielle watched his back until he disappeared into the forest and then picked up her shovel. They had found gold, not the mother lode they were looking for, but gold none the less. So why weren't they happy? Why weren't they dancing a jig? She sighed, slipping her mitten back on. They had said nothing to each other about a future together since that first night on the trail, but still it haunted their minds. Tightening her hood, Gabrielle jumped down into the nearest shaft and began digging wholeheartedly.

  The bleary winter days slipped by like leaves falling from a tree. Gabrielle and Alex worked from sunup until sundown digging and thawing ground and digging some more. Instead of trying to reach bedrock, they decided simply to excavate and depend on sluicing in the spring to bring them the gold they needed. They made an agreement that on July first they would pack and go, no matter what. Whatever gold they had on that day would be what they would take. They would destroy the map and swear never to tell a soul of the location of Rouge's find, nor would they ever return.

  Time seemed to lose all meaning to Gabrielle and Alex as they worked by day, falling into an exhausted sleep at dusk. They slept side by side on the floor in the tiny cabin, each avoiding the other's touch. As time passed, they grew used to the new relationship, and though it was often painful, they grew to tolerate it. There were many days when Alex and Gabrielle could not leave the cabin except to tend the dogs because of the extreme low temperatures and driving blizzards. But on clear days, they were up and working as the first streaks of dawn colored the sky. Some days they worked in total silence, their moods dark and brooding, but other days, they laughed away the afternoon, content to work at one another's side.

  Winter slipped by and spring descended upon them. With the first falling rain, the snow began to melt, and the bank of the Tanana tributary turned muddy and brown. One morning in mid-April they woke to a thundering rumble of sound.

  "What's that?" Alex leaped to his feet, pulling on his pants, and reached for a wool sweater that hung on the wall.

  Brushing the sleep from her eyes, Gabrielle yawned lazily, stretching as she came fully awake. "It's the break-up, silly."

  "What?" He stood on one foot, hopping as he tugged on a boot.

  "Spring break-up. The ice on the Tanana is breaking."

  Stuffing his other foot in a boot, Alex went out of the cabin. Gabrielle watched him from the doorway as she dressed herself. "Beautiful sight, wouldn't you say?" she called after him.

  Alex crossed the clearing to stand at the bank of the stream. The water was finally moving, great chunks of blue-green ice floating downstream. He glanced back at Gabrielle. "But the sound? Where's the sound coming from?"

  She laughed, racing down the bank toward him. "It's the Tanana."

  "But the main river is miles from here."

  "I know." She grinned, catching his hand. "Want to go see it?"

  "And lose a day of work?" He squeezed her hand, reveling in the feel of her touch.

  She shrugged. "An ounce of gold?" She turned and started back up the bank, shivering with cold without the protection of her parka. "I'm going. Work if you like, or come with me. Makes no difference to me."

  Alex stood for a minute watching the ice floes disappear around the bend and then scrambled back up the bank. Pushing barking dogs aside, he hollered, "Wait! I'm coming."

  Gabrielle's laughter filled the clearing, her voice echoing high in the trees. Another spring had come to the Tanana, and she was glad she was there to see it.

  Leaving the mining site and the dogs behind for the day, Gabrielle and Alex made an overland trek, crossing a mountain ridge and a valley to hike part way up a mountain to look down on the breaking Tanana.

  The mighty power of the breaking ice was overwhelming to Alex. For the longest time, he stood there on the side of the mountain just looking down at the great rushing river in awe. The sound of the cracking ice was nearly deafening, even so high above it. It was a thundering roar that would forever be embedded in his mind.

  "A sight, isn't it?" Gabrielle tossed a stick into the small fire she'd bu
ilt on the ledge they rested on. "Except for those years I spent in Seattle, I've seen this every year since I was old enough to remember, and still it astounds me . . . frightens me." Getting to her feet, she went to stand beside Alex and stare down at the countenance of the beauty.

  "Yea," he answered, unable to resist wrapping an arm around her waist. "I could say the same about you."

  The following morning, Alex and Gabrielle set up a sluice box and began the step in mining that actually produced results. Setting a screened box, which they'd built from scraps, down in the stream, they began the arduous task of shoveling dirt into it. The swift running water of the spring thaw left the heavy gold chunks in the riffles of the box and washed the lighter materials away. On the first day of sluicing, Gabrielle and Alex were beside themselves with wonder as they lifted the slivers of gold from the box, but as the week passed, they grew accepting of the bag that grew heavier with each day and worked diligently to complete their task. Slowly they made their way through the conical-shaped piles of dirt that towered over the campsite, taking turns shoveling while the other worked the sluice box.

  Late one afternoon, Gabrielle heaved a sigh as she dumped another shovel of dirt into the sluice box. Leaning on her shovel, she wiped her brow. "That's it for me today, Alex. I can't lift another shovel of dirt."

  He looked up at her smudged face, shading his eyes from the bright sunlight. She was as beautiful as she had ever been, standing there covered in mud, leaning on the shovel, her chestnut hair swaying softly in the breeze. "Given up, have you?"

  She dropped the shovel with a bang. "Indeed I have, and I'd recommend you do the same." She looked out over the running stream wishfully, scratching her arm beneath her prickly wool sweater. "I need a bath."

  He laughed, lifting the sluice box from its cradle to carry it up the bank. "Just wait until we get into Seattle. We'll find some fancy hotel with a tub big enough for both of us." He grinned, glancing sideways at her.

  At Gabrielle's insistence, Alex had made no advances toward her since they'd left her cabin downstream. Though he ached for wanting her, he had promised himself that if they were ever to be lovers again, she would have to come to him. When they first arrived at Rouge's campsite, she had avoided his touch like the plague; but then as winter turned to spring, she had grown more lenient and now, suddenly he realized she was reaching out to him with warmth. At first it was just a brief touch as she passed a shovel or a coffee cup, but lately she had actually been seeking his attention, making physical contact with each chance she got. Could it be that she had changed her mind? Did she still want him as much as he wanted her? He was afraid to be too hopeful.

  "Lewd comments is it, now?" Gabrielle arched a dark eyebrow playfully. "You want to see lewd?" Suddenly on impulse, she was stripping off her clothes, first her boots, then her muddy pants, her underdrawers, her sweater and shirt.

  Alex's mouth went dry as he watched her dumbfounded. "What are you doing?" He choked on his words, wondering if she expected him to look away.

  "Going swimming," she answered saucily. With a jaunty gait she went down the bank, her slim hips swaying as she walked. What are you doing? she asked herself. You're not only offering a swim, you're offering yourself.

  Alex eased the sluice box to the ground and followed her, walking over her discarded clothes. "Going swimming, are you mad?"

  She laughed, her voice clear and tinkling, like a bell in a church steeple. "What's the matter, you Virginians don't bathe?" Suddenly her decision was made. After all of these months, weeks, days of wanting Alex, it was time she gave in to her true feelings.

  "Not in water that's still got ice floating in it . . . ."

  Gabrielle's feet hit the water, and she groaned, wrapping her hands around her waist. "It's really not bad, once you get in," she called over her shoulder. "Come on." Shivering, she ran a few feet and then plunged into the icy depths. The water hit her like a wall of lead, numbing her mind as well as her body. It was so cold that it took her breath away, but at the same time it was astonishingly exhilarating. Surfacing, she threw back her head, paddling with her hands. "Join me?" Her doe-brown eyes shimmered with hidden promise.

  Alex licked his dry lips. His desire to stay warm and dry was almost as great as his desire to be in the water so near to Gabrielle's naked body. "If I die, will you inform my family?"

  The corners of her mouth twitched. "About the gold or your dying?"

  Alex's eyes met hers, and he was encouraged by the steamy gaze she held him with. Slowly he walked toward the stream, shedding his clothes as he went. "You're funny—" he pointed a finger—"very funny."

  Her head bobbed up and down in agreement. "I know. Get your clothes off." Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as he slipped the dark wool sweater over his head. How long had it been since she'd allowed her gaze to linger over him like this? Had his shoulders always been so broad, his stomach so muscular? He tugged at the waist band of his pants, and she looked away, her cheeks coloring against her will. The familiar heat of desire spread through her loins as images of Alex's body pressed against hers flashed through her mind.

  "You're suddenly awfully quiet, Gabrielle." He stood on the bank, wearing nothing but a broad smile.

  She cursed him beneath her breath. The lout knew how much she wanted him! When she heard a resounding splash, she looked up to see Alex disappear beneath the surface of the water. For a moment she couldn't see where he was, then suddenly he rose in the water just in front of her.

  "Damn, but that's cold water!" He rubbed his arms briskly, trying to bring back some of the feeling.

  Gabrielle reached out hesitantly to wipe the water from his brow. "You're shivering," she offered quietly.

  His hand cupped her chin. "So are you." He took a step closer, his bare leg brushing against hers beneath the water's surface.

  She gasped softly. The warmth of his flesh against hers made her heart flutter, her pulse quicken. He leaned into her, resting his other hand on her shoulder.

  "I promised myself I wouldn't touch you, Gabrielle, not ever again, not unless you wanted me to." His voice seemed to come from far in the distance, barely audible over the rush of the river.

  Her lower lip trembled. "I want you to . . ."

  Alex brought his mouth down hard against hers, crushing her body against him. "God, Gabrielle," he muttered thickly. "You're enough to make a man crazy." He deepened the kiss, and she responded wholeheartedly, her arms snaking around his waist. Her tongue darted out to meet his, and she shuddered beneath the power of his onslaught.

  Alex's hand ran down her back and over her shapely buttocks, caressing the curves of her supple flesh. He kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, then the arch of her eyebrows as he reacquainted himself with the tender places that made her cry out with pleasure when he touched them.

  Gabrielle's breath came faster as she moved her own fingers over his slick, wet flesh. "I'm c-cold," she murmured in his ear.

  Brushing his lips against hers, he lifted her into his arms and started for the shore. Gabrielle looped her arms around his neck and nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder as he whispered soft endearments in her ear.

  Alex would have liked to have laid her right there on the bank of the tributary and taken her. His groin ached, and his fingers trembled with wanting; but he immediately saw there was no place dry to put her down.

  Recognizing his dilemma, Gabrielle laughed, her voice husky. "In the cabin," she whispered, her tongue darting out to lick at his ear. "Otherwise the dogs won't let us be."

  Nodding, Alex hurried across the muddy clearing and pushed open the cabin door with his foot. Giving it a shove closed, he got to his knees and lowered Gabrielle onto the mat he slept on. Putting her arms out to him, she took his mouth greedily, her hands moving over his wet flesh with driven passion.

  Laying himself over her shivering body, Alex brushed the wet hair from her cheek. "I never thought I'd feel you beneath me again." His voice rang with heartfel
t emotion. "I love you; I love you so much, Gabrielle."

  She moved her hips rhythmically, stroking his broad back. "I love you, too," she answered in his ear as she parted her legs to accept the evidence of his love.

  Though Alex had wanted this reunion to be unhurried, the pounding of his heart in his own ears made him move with hard demanding strokes. Gabrielle cried out against his cheek, arching her back to meet her own exigency. Driven by the separation of body and soul in the past months, they moved with unbridled urgency toward the peak of utter fulfillment.

  Tensing every muscle in her body, Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in the crook of Alex's neck. Running her fingers through his thick auburn hair, she lifted her hips once and then again, groaning as she strained to pass beyond the point of return. Recognizing the change in the rhythm of her movements, Alex drove faster, and hand in hand they rose above the brink of all-consuming ecstasy.

  Panting, Alex pressed his lips to her damp cheek, his breath hot on her face. "Tell me you'll marry me, Gabrielle. Tell me you'll come away with me."

  "Yes," she heard herself say. "I'll marry you. . . ."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alex rolled onto his side, lifting himself up on one elbow. "You'll what?" he stammered.

  Gabrielle opened her eyes, a glimpse of a smile on her lips. "I said I'll marry you, Alex," she whispered, reaching to stroke his cheek. "I'll marry and I'll go to your Richmond. I can't promise you I'll like it; but I'll go, and I'll try to be the wife you want me to be."

  "Ah, Gabrielle," he murmured against her hair. "Are you sure?"

  "You taking back your offer?" She relaxed in the crook of his arm, her breath finally slowing to a normal rate.

  "No, of course not; it's just that yesterday we were through and today—"

  "And today I'm yours forever?"

  He kissed her love-bruised lips in disbelief. "Exactly. I don't understand."

  "What's there to understand? I thought I could live without you. I thought I could put distance between us, and when you went, I could go on with my life the way it was."