Jenna Kernan (8 page)

“Lily?” He reached for her but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No, Jack. Not again. I know what you’re wanting from me and now you know the way of it with me, as well. But I need you to understand. I made a promise to my ma to see more than the walls of our tenement. I’m here for an adventure and to be part of something bigger than myself. You’ve become very dear to me. But if you’re thinking to have me, I’m asking you not to. I know a man like you doesn’t choose a woman like me for long. I’m trying to be wiser than my ma. She fell to temptation a time or two. They didn’t stay. Nor will you, Jack. So don’t make me fall in love with you and then cast me off so you can return to New York alone.”

“Lily, I never intended…” But he had intended exactly that. He’d had so little respect for his partner
he was ready to do whatever she’d allow him to do and it shamed him. “You’re right, Lily. You deserve better.”

Lily stepped outside the restaurant to stare out at the frozen lake. It had been reported that the river beyond Bennett had already given way some eight days earlier and those with the smallest boats had dragged their crafts across the thinning ice in an act that Jack called lunacy. Perhaps, but they were already under way. Even so, she was still trapped. Stuck in this frozen purgatory between Dyea and Dawson and trapped between what she wanted and what she knew would come.

Taking Jack would be her ruination. She felt it in the marrow of her bones. Yet she wanted it so badly it pulsed inside her with each beat of her heart.

Soon the two of them would be sleeping together in a narrow boat. Lily feared what would happen then. For she did not think she still had the will to say no, and she didn’t expect a man to have the will to deny his pleasure. Perhaps that was the way between man and woman, passion over common sense.

Why hadn’t she chosen that little tailor for a partner instead of this big, handsome, unattainable man?

Jack had kept his distance since she’d asked him not to shame her. But the tension between them had not lessened. All that had changed was the new awk
wardness they shared as they waited their release from the ice that trapped them here.

At first, the crack sounded like a rifle shot, but then it was followed by another and another. The ground under Lily’s feet rumbled and one of the men shouted.

“The ice is breaking.”

Lily dashed toward the lake with the others. She elbowed her way through the crowd. The lake seemed alive with slabs of ice pitching and colliding. They squeaked as they scraped across each other and exploded with sharp pops as the ice snapped under forces she could not imagine.

Lily’s heart beat fast as the rumble started. Water surged through and around the thick platforms of ice, tossing them one upon the other. She scanned the shore, searching for Jack, needing to share this moment with him. She found him, eyes pinned on her as he pushed through the crowd.

“Look at it!” she called, her words lost in the rumble.

He looped his arm about her and drew her close as they turned to watch the bottleneck of ice gathering, piling upon itself over the roar.

“That won’t last now that the water’s flowing.” His voice was a shout directly into her ear and yet she could barely make out his words.

She had not even finished nodding when the dam broke in the middle releasing a slurry of freezing
water and ice down the center of the lake. Gray water foamed and frothed as it greedily snatched great slabs of ice and carried them along.

Men cheered, threw their hats and scrambled to load their boats. The break-up had come at last and the race was on again.

“Come on, Jack. We need to load the boat.”

“T
omorrow,” Jack declared as if he had some power of divination.

“Are you mad? We’ll be the last to leave the shore and last into Dawson.”

“I’ve counted over six thousand boats here. That and the ice will make a pretty picture. I’ll not be taken down after coming this far and I won’t put you on the river in this.”

“But Jack—”

“Look.” He pointed toward the water.

Lily took her eyes from the flowing ice to stare in the direction he indicated. There was a shabby little vessel no bigger than a bathtub.

“Do you want to watch that man drown or have to stop to fish him out of the lake?”

He had a point. Lily had been so busy working in the hotel that she had not had a chance to see much
of the boat construction, though she did keep close tabs on Jack’s progress.

He continued. “Plus those ice sheets could tear even a strong boat into pieces and pop holes in our hull like a child poking a finger through a paper wrapping.”

Lily watched five men push a squarish boat, loaded high with gear, off the muddy bank and onto the tumble of ice now thrusting onto the shore. They heaved and strained as the weight of the thing bogged down. Then, in what seemed only a blink of the eye to Lily, the ice shifted, tumbling from beneath one of the men, casting him into the lake. His friend tried to grab him but he disappeared between the ice sheets. The men on shore shouted and danced but none ventured onto the unstable ice to try to find him. He came up again in the fast-moving slurry of ice and water. Men dashed along the shore and finally got a rope around him, but in the meantime the boat rolled, throwing all their gear into the lake.

Lily felt her stomach pitch as she pictured all they owned being lost to the bottom of Lake Bennett. She turned to Jack. He did not seem pleased to be proven right, but rather saddened by the confirmation as he sighed heavily.

“They’re all mad,” she said.

He stared out at the insanity unfolding before them.

“I’ve built a strong boat. But I don’t know if
anything can withstand that.” He motioned with his head toward the rushing water. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

She nodded, suddenly in complete agreement. “We’ll wait until you say so, Jack. I trust you.”

On impulse she reached out to hug him, thankful that he was so wise amid the chaos. But then she recalled the last time she had held him and hesitated, drawing back to leave him standing with his arms open to accept her. He let them fall to his sides and a small line formed between his brows.

They stared at each other in awkward silence as the water crashed behind them. She couldn’t warn him to stay clear of her and then throw herself back into his arms. It wasn’t fair to either of them. But she yearned for the comfort and protection he could provide and longed to listen to her heart, as it whispered words of hope, instead of doing what was wise by keeping clear of him.

She’d seen the look of surprise on his face when she’d asked him to leave her alone if he planned to abandon her in Dawson. He’d confirmed her fears without so much as a word. He had planned to do exactly that. After all they had endured together, it hurt that she meant so little to him. Still, she should not be surprised. That was the way of the world. Lily was a realist. Men like Jack did not take up with girls like her, at least not in public and never for the long haul. Fate had thrown them together, and all she
could do was try to prevent herself from becoming nothing more to him than some shameful little secret.

Funny that she thought her chances better with the heaving ice floes in the lake than in Jack’s arms.

That afternoon Jack saw many more stampeders set off. In his mind he knew they should wait, but it was still hard to watch the others go. Huge floating blocks of ice bobbed along to the mouth of the lake where they piled up like rock candy on a stick. Jack loaded the boat and lashed everything down. He’d agreed to assist in the launching of other boats in exchange for similar help.

The following morning, Lily met him by the boat, which now rested the lakeshore. Her cheeks glowed rosily, for nothing enhanced her beauty more than being out of doors and on an adventure. She seemed made for this wild, beautiful country. He drew in the line and helped her aboard. Nala followed with a graceful bound and then set her large forepaws on the gunwales, her tongue lolling as she waited with Lily for Jack to climb aboard.

Yesterday, she’d told him that she trusted him. It was a precious thing and he knew it. He meant to be worthy of her confidence and to be certain his precious cargo reached Dawson safely. Only now the most precious thing aboard his eighteen-foot-long vessel was Lily.

He turned back to the boat, pushing off with the
help of two other men. Then they heaved the second vessel into the water. Jack’s obligation complete, he waded out to his boat, climbed aboard and released the line. The current took them beyond him, the lake was alive with the skiffs, boats of balsa, barges, canoes, kayaks and one vessel that appeared to have been made of packing crates tied together with twine.

“That one looks like a coffin,” Lily said, pointing to their right.

She sat fearless in his conveyance beside her mutt who sniffed the air as her ears and gums flapped in the breeze. What a novelty for the dog not to have to pull them along. The winds grew fierce at the northern end of the lake, dragging them sideways. Jack and Lily both leaned with all they had against the rudder, trying to hold them in the center of the lake.

“Glad I reinforced the thing with sheet metal,” he shouted.

“You’ve a knack for building, Jack, and that’s a fact.”

He glowed at the praise of his partner.

His boat performed well, and by late afternoon they had reached the checkpoint at Marsh Lake where the Mounties confirmed that each person had 700 pounds of food.

“That man’s crying,” said Lily. She set her jaw and stared at the unfolding tragedy as one of the herd of stampeders was cut away from the rest.

“Hard to fail after coming this far,” said Jack.

“He won’t be the last.” Lily’s grim judgments, though accurate, were sometimes dispiriting.

Would they be among the few who completed the journey? They’d seen so many give up or be sent back. Jack swallowed back his uncertainty. He had no room for it.

The winds were good and his sail carried them across Marsh Lake, but he pulled in before they reached the mouth.

“There’s still an hour left of light,” she said.

“White Horse Rapids is next. We need more than an hour to get past that and we need full light. After that there’s snags and sandbars and more rapids.”

“You sound as if you’ve seen it.”

“Only in my mind.” But he planned to walk the cliff and see for himself. It was images of White Horse Rapids that had kept him up many nights, worrying. Tomorrow there would be more than risk, there would be danger. He wondered how the first of those who had set off had fared on the river. They’d faced the rapids with ice and water running as fast as it would at any time in the season. Tomorrow they’d take their turn.

“Jack, you’re scowling like a man with a bellyache. What’s wrong?”

“Wondering if the boat will hold water on the White Horse.”

“It will hold.”

Did Lily have any idea of what was before them? He decided to explain it to her after supper. He turned the rudder and steered them up onto the muddy shore, where the mosquitoes waited to devour them. Lily started a fire and added damp wood to the logs. The smoke drove off the worst of the blood-suckers, but the whine of their wings was persistent and maddening. As she worked, the temperature dropped and the flying menaces retreated.

Nala ceased snapping at the bugs and settled beside her mistress with a groan, as if she’d walked all the way across the lake. Other campfires sprang up along the banks. Few wanted to face the joining of river and lake in the dark.

Jack’s back ached from manning the rudder and sails, but he said nothing of it as he sank onto a log. His attention turned from his sore muscles to dinner the moment he caught the aroma of the stew that Lily had apparently smuggled aboard, carrying the precious cargo all the way from the mouth of Lake Bennett without his even knowing. It was a welcome surprise and he rather enjoyed eating together from one pot. They sat side by side, dipping their spoons as they stared at the fire and beyond to the glint of ice floating past them.

His attention lifted to the ribbons of green and blue light that shimmered across the sky.

“Oh,” she said, following the direction of his gaze. “The Northern Lights. So beautiful. It’s one
of the things I love best about the winter nights in the Yukon.”

Jack looked up. The aurora borealis. The shimmering curtain of color was only visible on clear dark nights. They had seen them many times in Bennett, but this might be the last of them as winter turned to spring.

He smiled and drew her closer, keeping his arm about her shoulder as they gazed at the sky and was rewarded when Lily nestled against him. He drew a breath of complete contentment. Such moments of peace and splendor were rare on their journey.

“What else do you love?”

“Many things. The clear blue of the glacial ice and whizzing over the snow on the empty sled with Nala going full out and watching the mountain peaks at sunset when the colors change so fast you don’t dare blink.”

He prized those things as well, felt privileged to have experienced them with her. He didn’t know when it had happened exactly, when he had fallen in love with this wild country. But he knew he’d miss it more than he ever imagined possible. The world here seemed so alive and vital and the people lived
full out,
as Lily had said. It was so different from the stale, stagnant world he had left. And to think, had he not come, he might never have known what he missed.

“I loved watching the break-up,” he said at last.
“And leaning against the rudder beside you, eating your peach turnovers and listening to you barter.” He sat contentedly beside his partner, feeling that this moment might be the most perfect of his life.

Lily drew a deep breath as she watched the lights shimmer and undulate across the wide sky.

“I think this is what she meant,” she said at last.

“Who?”

“My mother. When she knew she was dying she waited until we were alone and then she told me to sell everything to the last tack and get out of there. She told me to fill my life with adventures so I didn’t end up like her, dying with regrets for what she never did.”

She lowered her head and Jack heard her sniff. He looped his other hand about her and hugged Lily. She buried her face in the lapel of his sheepskin coat for several moments. Jack held her, thinking of Lily beside her mother’s bedside. If the woman hadn’t told Lily to go, he would never have met her.

“You’ve done just as she asked,” he whispered, his lips an inch from the top of her head. “Well, I’m glad to be a part of your adventures, Lily. Honored, in fact.”

She drew back and wiped her eyes. “Do you think she’d approve?”

He nodded. “Most certainly.”

He hadn’t realized how sheltered he’d been in his private school and university, how little he had
seen outside his own circles. It had caused troubles between them at first, but now he trusted her intuition and her opinion. He’d never felt that way with a woman before. But Lily was different in so many ways.

Like him, she didn’t speak of her troubles, and, surely, hers were different than those of the privileged son of a successful business owner. But would she share them if he asked? He found himself needing to know her better. The last time he asked about her father she’d changed the subject. Should he try again? He decided his need to know her outweighed the risk that she might turn the tables on him.

“What does your father do?”

Lily’s smile faded and she gave him a sharp look. “I don’t know. He didn’t stay around very long and I don’t really remember him. Ma said he drank his wages mainly, and we were better off without him. But I know she missed him. I did, too, or I missed the idea of him.” She shrugged, as if growing up without a father was of little consequence. But he knew better. It hurt to be abandoned, even if you were already a man when it happened.

He thought of his father and felt his mood darken as well.

He gave her a little hug and she gave a half smile, then patted his cheek. “What about you, Jack? Did you have a mother who kissed you good-night and
a father who came home each evening to find his slippers and paper waiting?”

Her voice held a forced levity that tugged at his heart. Is that how she pictured his life? She wasn’t far wrong, except it was all an illusion, the perfect couple and their lovely children, built on a shallow foundation that did not hold against the first flood. But he didn’t let her steer the conversation away from her pain just yet.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s all said and done. And look at me now, here on a river that will carry us all the way to Dawson in your fine strong boat.” Nala rolled against her leg and groaned, glancing at her mistress, who scratched her head absently. “And should I make my fortune there, I’ll be able to help my family so they can see what a great, wide wonder the world is, as well. But I don’t know if I’ll go back myself. I’m starting to take to this territory. It seems a good place to me.”

Jack didn’t know why it troubled him that she should wish to stay, unless it was because he knew he had to go. He had obligations back there in the States, a mother and sister. With luck and hard work he’d make his fortune and then he could choose his own bride.

Jack glanced at Lily, knowing it was a lie, for he couldn’t really choose any bride. There were rules to any game and he needed to abide by them if he
were to gain reentry to that world. He couldn’t, for instance, choose the daughter of an Irish immigrant without being shunned by one and all. It just wasn’t done.

Jack lowered his chin and stared at the fire, smoldering with the glowing embers.

He understood the expectations and had abided by them his whole life, never feeling their constraint. He did now.