At the Rainbow's End (33 page)

As his partner's voice faded, Kevin followed Joel's gaze. His eyes widened bleary from whiskey. A vision straight from his dreams smiled, through a pale blur of pink. He started to rise from the floor, but the liquor had slowed him too much. Joel hurried past him to greet Samantha.

Kevin smiled, reaching for the whiskey bottle. Soon she would be dressed like this all the time. They would have plenty of gold to waste, on all kinds of baubles. He would decorate Samantha with everything her heart desired. She would make his fantasies come true, with gleaming gold surrounding them.

Gold! He raised his cup in a silent toast to the yellow prize and what it would buy for him. Draining his whiskey, he sloshed another serving into his mug.

Across the room, the other two did not notice his actions. In a gentle voice, thick with the emotions he could not keep from his eyes, Joel murmured, “Sam, you look so beautiful tonight. Why haven't you worn this gown before? It's perfect for you.”

“I had saved it for a special occasion—” she said as she ran her fingers along his arm, “and tonight is a very special one.”

“Your wedding gown?” When she nodded reluctantly, he lost his buoyant good humor. It took little effort for him to imagine pretty Sam in this puff of pink standing by his side in front of a preacher. It took even less to fantasize the night to follow, when he would rediscover the sweet softness which waited beneath the dress.

“Don't look so glum,” she teased. “It's a little late for regret now.”

He put his hand against her cheek and tilted her face up to his, emotion thickened in his voice. “Sam, how could I be sorry for anything which brought you into my life?”

A crash interrupted her answer. Kevin had struggled to his feet, noisy and wobbly. Now he was sprawled across the side of the bed. Smiling indulgently, Samantha said, “Shall we?”

“I do think he needs some help.” Joel moved to one side of Kevin while Samantha took his other arm. “C'mon, Kev. How about an early night for you? We have a busy day tomorrow, stealing more of that gold from the pay dirt.”

The blond grinned idiotically at Samantha as she removed his glasses and put them on the table. “Thanks, honey. You want to—”

“Not tonight, Kevin,” she said softly before he could betray his thoughts. “You sleep. Tomorrow you can find more gold.”

“Gold,” he breathed as he closed his eyes. They left him to his dreams.

Joel was unstable, too, as he groped for the bench. He sat and turned to look at Kevin, who now snored inelegantly, one leg dangling, a hole in one stocking revealing his big toe. He mumbled something, then rolled onto his side.

Samantha joined Joel on the bench. “I have never seen Kevin drink so much,” he said, “not even when we went into Grand Forks.” His own voice was blurred from whiskey.

“Don't deny him his happiness.”

“Or us, ours.” He turned her to face him. Candid desire softened his features. “Tonight, Sam. It's been an eternity since the last time you slept in my arms.”

She shook her head slowly. “No. We must tell Kevin the truth, first. Now that we've found the riches you both dreamed of, it might make the whole situation easier. He can choose any woman he wants—maybe even his Leslie Morgain, if he still loves her. Few would refuse to marry a man as wealthy as he'll be.”

His finger caressed the line of her cheek. “You'll be rich, too, sweetheart, in your own right. Remember, you get a third of all coming from the river. You won't need to marry a wealthy man.”

“No,” she answered slowly as his face lowered toward hers. “I told you that didn't matter to me. I never planned to.”

“Then would you reconsider?” His warm breath washed over her, thick with the aroma of whiskey. “Would you marry me, Sam?”

“I wrote once, ages ago, that I would marry you,” she said. Her laugh disappeared into the moist caverns of his mouth as he drew her lips beneath his.

When he released her and slid off the bench to kneel on one knee, she giggled. Wine had loosened her inhibitions and made everything more merry. She stroked his cheek.

Smiling, his eyes serious, he said, “Miss Samantha Perry, I would deem it the greatest honor if you would consent to being my beloved wife. I vow I'll cherish you more with each passing day, and try to make your life as happy as you already have made mine. Just say ‘yes.' Tell me you'll be mine.”

Fighting not to chuckle, she responded in the same officious tone, “Mr. Joel Gilchrist, you lied to me and made me insane with fury, so I vowed to make you sorry for what you did to me.”

“You did that!”

She smiled at his sharp answer, then said, “Now, I find I want to make you happy. If my marrying you will do that, then I say yes.” Eyes twinkling, she added, “I love you, Joel. I love you more than anyone or anything in my life.”

“And I you.”

Grinning wickedly, he stood suddenly and lifted her into his arms. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he carried her past his sleeping partner and walked to the ladder and placed her on the first rung. “Up, wench! Delay, and you'll find yourself walking the plank and pleasuring the fish.”

Climbing, she said, “You
are
drunk.”

When he stood next to her on the upper floor he whispered, “Drunk, yes. With desire, my love.”

Gazing up into his face, she noticed how close his head was to the rafters. She stroked the length of his strong arms. Watching his eyes rove along her in eager yearning, she teased, “Should I believe a declaration of love and an offer of marriage from a drunkard?”

“Silence, wench,” he ordered with a lusty laugh. She laughed, enjoying his pirate snarl and arrogant stance. He bent, putting his arms around her waist, and easily hoisted her up over his shoulder.

Ordering her again to be silent before she woke Kevin, he dropped her onto the bed, flashing an imaginary broadsword. “By the orders of your master, wench, prepare yourself for the night of your life!”

Laughing in the spirit of the game, she crossed her arms over her chest in a protective pose. “Never, Captain! You have sunk my ship and killed my crew. Before I allow you to touch me, I will fling myself over the side.”

“You've read too many novels,” he said as he sat beside her.

“Aye, Captain,” she answered saucily. “Enough to know what happens to captive wenches on pirate ships.”

“And?”

Her hands rose to the front of his shirt. Slowly, she undid each button. Her eyes unabashedly speaking of her love for him, she spread her palms across his bared chest. When she heard his gasp of pleasure, she slipped her arms beneath the loosened shirt to stroke his back. Her face pressed to the warmth of his hard body, she kissed the curling hair across his chest.

Gently he lifted her chin so he could see her loving face in the dim light. “Tonight, Sam, I'll love you as I have wanted to for so long. No hurried coupling in the snow. Tonight we'll share love.”

He placed his lips against her left cheek, then her right. She closed her eyes in eager anticipation as he kissed her forehead and her chin, which she had raised so often in defiance. Her gasp of delight billowed into his mouth when he tasted the pleasure waiting for him on her lips.

He lowered her back against the bed. When it creaked softly, he smiled. This would be the only music to accompany the sweet dance they shared here tonight. The normally caustic sound would become a magical passionate melody.

Lifting her arms, she pulled him down onto her. At the luscious pressure as he pressed her to the thin mattress, she thrilled again to his masculine body. Within her, the dull ache of longing became anguish. She wanted what she had been denied too long.

It took him little time to undo the hooks along her back, but he did not hurry to remove her gown. Slowly, almost reverently, he lowered the neckline of the fancy gown, his lips following the dress downward along her body. She writhed, wanting to cry out for him to hurry.

A moan slipped from her as his mouth found the curved surface of her breast, visible above her lace chemise. All of her was centered on the warm, sensual path he blazed across her skin. Even as he explored the velvet valley hidden beneath the lace, she was slipping his shirt from his shoulders.

“Don't be in a rush, my love,” he whispered.

“But I want you so much! Now!”

In the second before his lips crushed hers, he chuckled. Then the gentle lover became the rapacious pirate, intent on devouring her to satisfy the passion exploding between them. Urgent, demanding, he stripped the gown from her and unlaced her chemise and tossed it to the floor. Her petticoats followed quickly.

Raising up, he removed his denims, keeping his lips against hers. The nectar he drank there whetted his thirst for more, and he sighed with indescribable pleasure and anticipation. So many months had passed since he felt her naked body moving in heated invitation.

She gasped as he rolled her over to rest atop him. A knowing smile at one side of her mouth, she ran her finger along his virile body and watched his reaction. Hearing his staccato breaths of rapture, she placed her lips against his open ones. In the same intense, intriguing way he had explored her, she moved to taste the textures of his skin.

The sharp bristles of his beard scratched at her lips, then metamorphosed into the softly twisted hair along his broad chest. She continued to explore his body, exulting in the newly discovered flavors and the subtle, musky scent of his desire.

His hands gripped her shoulders, and he pulled her upward to meet his lips. “You're driving me mad!” he gasped between heated kisses.

“That's what I intended,” she teased.

“Then pay the price, wench!” he groaned, lifting her up over him again.

Fists clenched on his chest, she fought the ecstasy cascading through her. The rush of it became deafening, although she could hear his words of love murmured against her lips. She slid into a vortex, where only her body moving against his had form. As she surrendered to the rapture, she whispered, “I love you,” riding the wake of her words into the heated passion only they could know.

Samantha's finger ran lazily along Joel's face. “Remind me never to get close to you when you feel as if your cheeks are covered with steel wool.”

“Do you mean that?”

“No,” she replied with a laugh. She wondered how she could have denied her heart this joy so long. “I want to be close to you, under whatever conditions, as often as possible. I love you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you so, Sam. As soon as the spring waters go down and the work lessens, we'll go into Grand Forks and get married.”

“The prospecting must come first, I know.” No bitterness altered her voice.

“Yes. I want to give you everything you want when we leave this desolate land.”

She placed her arm across the broad expanse of his warm chest. “I have everything I want, right here.” She yawned contentedly.

Smoothing her hair, he whispered, “Go to sleep, my love.”

“You're staying here?”

“For now.” He chuckled against her head. “After all, it's been a long time since I slept in my bed.”

“This was your bed?”

He drew her arm across him. His laughter sounded at her ear. “Do you know what exquisite agony it's been, to know you slept in
my
bed without me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Her simple answer sent a flicker of heat spiraling through him which became a conflagration. He leaned her back against the pillows once more, seeing only the expression of delight on her face. He had found what he had been looking for for a decade. Sam was everything he wanted. Soon, even this faded from his mind, and he was swept into insatiable passion.

Samantha smiled and stretched happily. Her arm swept the bed where Joel had rested, leaving before Kevin awoke. Soon, after the giddiness of their gold discovery wore off, they would tell their partner the truth, and ask him to share their happiness.

Delighting in her joy, she closed her eyes again and imagined the ceremony they would have. Not in Grand Forks. It must be in Dawson. She wanted Mrs. Kellogg to attend, and Constable French. Also Gwen and Mr. Munroe, if she could get a message to them.

She pressed her face to the pillow Joel had used. The residual scent of bay rum clung to it. Soon she would be able to wake to this every morning.

When she could delay no longer, she dressed and climbed down the ladder. The faint odor of wine remained, reminding her of how they had celebrated so wildly last night. It was all so perfect—all of them had had a dream come true yesterday.

A cold breeze announced the opening of the door, and she turned, a smile of joy forming. When Joel closed the door behind him, she leapt across the room, arms outstretched.

“Stay away,” he said gruffly. “I'm soaked from trying to fix that damn sluice.”

“It's broken?”

“Why else would I be trying to fix it?” he snapped. “Dammit, woman! Don't just stand there. Get me something warm to drink.”

Samantha recoiled physically from the sharpness of his words. Confused, she poured him a cup and placed it in front of him. He took one sip then spewed it across the table. The rest he tossed in the bucket by the door.

“Joel!” He glared at her, but she refused to be intimidated. He was upset by the break in the equipment at this crucial time, but that was no reason to taint their drinking water. She would have to climb the hill to the spring to get more. “Why did you do that? You can just empty the pail and get some more on your way back to the river.”

He hurled the tin mug viciously toward the wall and it clattered to the floor, dented in several places. Her soft cry of dismay added to his rage, and he gripped her right arm in his powerful hand. Looking down into her shocked eyes, he said in a grim quiet tone, “Don't give me orders, Sam. Don't ever give me orders.”