At the Rainbow's End (19 page)

“How about the Anglican church, then? They have venison every Friday night.”

Although she wanted to reply she had enough game to last her forever, she knew it was useless to wish for chicken or beef. Such luxurious items did not reach Grand Forks. What little arrived in the Yukon was taken by the El Dorado kings in Dawson.

“That sounds wonderful, Kevin.”

“Joel?” he asked.

“It's unanimous.” His smile peeked from beneath the brush of his dark mustache. “Eating at the church fits better into our budget, as well.” Reaching past Samantha, he clapped his partner on the back. “Next spring, Kev.”

“If not before. The water's running high again. We can do some of that pay dirt before—”

“Hush!” ordered Samantha. “No talk of work today. I want to think only of supper.”

They laughed as they walked, linked arm in arm, along the sidewalk. Thick twilight descended with Arctic slowness along the street. It would be totally dark by 7 p.m., but the sun set far earlier. The evening cold began to settle on them.

Casually, Joel said, “By the way, Kevin, I rented a room at the hotel for the night. With such a late start, I thought we'd be wiser to stay overnight and head home in the morning.”

Samantha glared at him, but he only smiled more broadly. He was daring her to call him a liar, and speak the truth. She fumed. Both of them made every effort to protect Kevin from the truth, but now Joel was using her discomfort as a tool to twist them both to his will. She vowed to halt him. How, she did not know. She did know she would not allow him to have control of her fate.

“Good idea,” answered Kevin, unaware of the unspoken challenge between them.

“We checked out the one at the hotel this afternoon,” Joel continued. “There's a single bed which Samantha can use, but there's room enough for both of us to sleep on the floor. I'm sure we can get some extra blankets from the clerk. He was a pleasant man, wasn't he?”

She smiled coldly. “To tell you the truth, Joel, I can't remember him being particularly pleasant. Then again, I must admit I wasn't exactly comfortable going into a hotel and arranging for a room for any length of time.”

Kevin scowled. “That was thoughtless of you, Joel. You should've made those arrangements before you came back to meet us.”

“I'll remember that next time,” he said, but he did not sound properly chagrined.

Samantha was glad when they paused before a storefront, where a sign announced “Anglican Church of Grand Forks.” A crowd of men loitering outside the doorway stepped aside to allow the trio to enter.

When they followed the others into the dining room, which also served as the sanctuary on Sundays, Joel went to pay for three meals. The other two waited to one side. Samantha wanted to shout with delight. In the far corner stood four women, more than she had seen in one place for months, other than the Dawson dance hall. The women were behind a long table, ladling out food onto plates held out eagerly by the miners.

Seeing her shining face as she gazed at the women, Kevin became aware of a new hardship Samantha had endured. The whole time she had been at Fifteen Above, she had not seen another woman. She had missed feminine company as much as they had, perhaps more. They had her, but she had no one.

He sighed. Nothing could change that except gold dust from the river. Only then could they afford to leave this horrible land and return to the life they wanted. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he vowed he would make her sacrifices worthwhile when he took her away from here.

When Joel urged them to join the line of diners, Kevin frowned. He wondered if Samantha had noticed his touch. She had not reacted in any manner.

Hurrying to take a plate, Samantha could sense Kevin's displeasure. She could never be indifferent to him, but his touch brought no swell of emotion, as Joel's did. Anything she said might hurt him, or urge him to try to change her mind.

“Good evening,” she said as one of the ladies held out her dish.

“Well, hello!” gushed the buxom woman. “And who are you, child?”

“Samantha Perry. I'm living out on Fifteen Above on the Bonanza.”

The white topped head turned from Kevin to Joel. “So you finally convinced her to come up here, did you?” She glanced at Samantha's left hand. “Not so successful at talking her into marrying one of you yet, I see.”

Joel offered her his most charming smile. “It has been our misfortune to discover Miss Perry has a definite mind of her own. She refuses to be browbeaten into deciding which of us will be very happy, and which miserable.”

“Good for you, Samantha,” the woman stated. “Too many men in the Klondike for you to tie yourself down too quickly. It's a shame winter is bearing down on us. There are so few women up here, we in Grand Forks get together on Wednesday evenings, when our menfolk are attending their so-called lodge meetings. As we're in the church, it isn't fitting to talk about what they really do when they meet at the dance hall.” She winked broadly. “Mayhap you can talk Joel and quiet Kevin into bringing you in, once spring arrives next April.”

“Mayhap,” Joel agreed in the same light tone. “Now, how about some of that stew before I fade away from hunger, Mrs. Young?”

“You have a ways to go, lad. Looks like not having to eat your own cooking agrees with both of you.” She ladled out generous servings on all three platters. “Get your rolls from Mrs. Noonan. Mrs. Fowler has coffee. If you smile pretty, Mrs. Ritchie might give you a piece of pie.”

Kevin grinned. “Why are all you good cooks married?”

“To make you young bucks appreciate us more,” she teased. Waving her spoon at them, she urged them to move along, so the others could be served. She called after Samantha, “I'll see you when I'm done serving, child. I'm sure you could use some womanish conversation.”

Feeling Mrs. Young's warmth as she walked along the line, Samantha sensed she was being welcomed as a new member of their small sorority. Each woman teased her companions about the cleanliness of their clothes, and how smart Samantha was not to choose between them.

“Go ahead and find us a seat,” urged Joel. “I'll get our coffee. Kevin, why don't you give her your plate? Then you can carry my dessert.”

Leaving them to work out the details, she turned to survey the room. Every eye seemed riveted on her. She hesitated, then walked to the empty spot on the bench which Kevin had pointed out to her. Quietly greeting the men nearby, she was startled when they leapt to their feet and waited for her to sit before they resumed eating. Never would she become accustomed to the fact she was a rare and precious commodity in the Yukon.

When she selected her seat, the men lowered themselves onto the crowded benches. No one spoke directly to her, but she knew how aware of her they were. More than one paused in the middle of a curse to glance guiltily in her direction. She smiled, secretly amused. This was the first time she had considered herself a civilizing influence.

Putting her fingers over her mouth to hide her mirth, she doubted that any of these men would think her likely to tilt two bowls of stew over a man's head.

She felt more comfortable when Joel and Kevin crossed the room and sat on either side of her. She picked up her napkin and unrolled it to reveal her eating utensils. With her eyes on her lap, she took great pains to spread the stained cloth neatly. She brushed out every wrinkle before she lifted her gaze as far as the tabletop.

“So this is why you two have been hiding out at Fifteen Above.”

Samantha looked across the table to see a burly man regarding her with unveiled lust. If he had taken a bath recently, she saw no signs of it in his long hair, which hung in oil-thick strands past his collar. Pale eyes, squinting as he must when the sun burned bright on the crisp, Arctic snow, roamed over her face and upper body with obvious enjoyment.

On her right, Joel lowered his knife to the table. Out of sight of anyone, he put his hand over hers in her lap. Easily he said, “I had no idea that working hard would be considered hiding out, Ogilvie.”

“Haven't you realized you will never get a sparkle out of that useless skunk claim?” He laughed heartily. “So in what dance hall did you find this desperate whore?”

Joel's hand tightened over hers. He was trying to hold his temper in rein.

Ogilvie chuckled. “She must be desperate. She's with you two, isn't she?” His gaze moved back to Samantha. “I can understand why you would need two, when neither of them is half the man I am. What do you say you get rid of these fools, and let me show you the rewards of being with a real man?”

“Is that so, Mr. Ogilvie?” She squeezed Joel's hand to keep him from interrupting. Opening her eyes wide, she affixed an innocent expression on her face. She put her other hand on Kevin's arm as he started to react to Ogilvie's lascivious smile.

“Sure thing.”

“I'm so sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Ogilvie, but I hardly think you are qualified to show me anything.” Her dark eyebrows lowered as she glowered at the man. “In the future, I must insist that you keep your insulting inferences to yourself. These men are my business partners.”

Again he laughed. “I'm sure of that, darling. When you two are looking for customers for her, be sure to remember me.”

His amusement faded as Joel and Kevin exploded from their bench. The table tilted, spraying food over everyone. Hands grabbed her and pulled her away as the room dissolved into violence. Fists sounded with dull thuds on thick flesh. Screeches rang through the room.

Scared Kevin or Joel would be hurt, she started to step forward. Hands tightened on her. A hissed warning not to be foolish whistled in her ears. She did not look over her shoulder to see who held her. All of her thoughts were centered on the two men who shared her home.

His strong voice carrying over all other sounds, the pastor stood next to his altar, his face disfigured with rage. Again, he shouted, and those closest to him stopped fighting and helped him halt the others. She was not surprised to see Joel standing next to the minister. Scanning the room, she discovered Kevin wiping blood from cracked lips and smiling at a man who leaned drunkenly on him.

When all was quiet, the man in black demanded, “How can you act like this in God's house? We open the hall to offer you a good meal, so you don't sicken as you did last winter from too many flapjacks and beans. We plan entertainments for free, so you don't have to spend your hard-earned dust at the Gold Hill Hotel or the dance hall, or Dewey's. This is how you repay us?” He glared about the room. “Who started this?”

As the men looked at the floor like guilty children, trying to avoid his piercing eyes, Samantha bit her lip. Snaking off the hands holding her, stepping over a broken bench, she walked resolutely toward the clergyman and stood before him.

“I did, Reverend,” she said with quiet dignity.

A slow smile crossed his lips as he saw the sorrow in her dark eyes. That she was brave enough to come forward when the men cowered before his wrath pleased him. He did not have to be told what had happened. From where he was serving food, he had seen how the men ogled her. He recalled she had come with Houseman and Gilchrist. Almost everyone had heard about the mail order bride they had lured north with some false scheme.

“You?”

At his much lighter tone, she relaxed and smiled. “I'm afraid so, parson. I'm afraid I am a disruptive influence.”

“I would say so.” His scowl returned as he looked past her. “What are you men standing there for? Stop gawking like fools at the circus. Clean up this mess. Young lady, please come with me.”

Not sure what he intended, she nodded. While Mrs. Young handed out cleaning rags and set the men to resurrecting the dining room, Samantha followed the pastor into the kitchen. He leaned on the counter by the dry sink. Dark eyes regarded her with a kindness which she had not experienced in longer than she could remember. Since she had arrived in the Yukon, everyone seemed to want something from her. She needed someone who could offer warmth without expecting something in return.

“You're Miss Perry, aren't you?”

“Yes, Reverend.”

He smiled when he heard her terse answer. “I guess you've learned you're quite famous here along the Bonanza.”

“It's a notoriety which doesn't please me.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Do you need help?”

Her forehead creased with bafflement. “Help, Reverend?”

“Reverend Healy,” he supplied with a smile at her continue tact. “I believe you are trapped in a situation distressful for one who is so obviously a lady.”

She understood immediately. Eager to assure him she appreciated his concern, and allay his fears, she said, “Thank you so much, but I'm fine, Reverend Healy. I made it clear to Mr. Gilchrist and Mr. Houseman from the beginning that I did not intend to be bound by terms I had not agreed to. Presently, I'm taking care of the household chores while they prospect. I will get a third of all they discover, once I pay back my fare north to them.”

“That could be a long time. Most of these claims turn out barren.”

“I do have the promise of a ticket out of Dawson to St. Michael.” She did not add more about First Mate Penn's offer. That was a secret she wanted to keep. If Joel or Kevin discovered it, they might find a way to undermine her plans. “I thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. I really am.”

Patting her shoulder, he nodded. “It does seem you are quite capable of handling the situation. If at any time it becomes too much, remember you can find shelter here.”

When his expression suddenly became hard, she wondered if she had somehow angered him. Then he said, looking past her, “I assume you are here seeking Miss Perry, Mr. Gilchrist?”

Samantha whirled to see Joel's grin. He showed no signs of being in a fight. It was out of character for him to become involved in such antics, and he had emerged unscathed.