Rivers of Gold (2 page)

Thomas Edward Davenport, Teddy to his friends, turned from the ancient Indian woman and went back to his worktable. He had hoped to have a better showing for a summer’s worth of work, but after categorizing the plants and herbs he’d gathered, Teddy was rather disappointed. He would spend the winter recording and cataloging his finds for the botanical research book he intended to produce. This was his life’s work—work that had brought him to the vast regions of the Canadian provinces. Leaving his beloved England behind had been a difficult task, but after the death of his mother, Teddy had no real reason to remain. His father had died years before, succumbing to a terrible round of influenza. And while English soil might hold the bodies of his dearly departed parents, Teddy knew their souls were safely in heaven with God.

He glanced across the cabin room and watched Nellie spooning tea into the young woman’s mouth. Teddy couldn’t help but wonder about the woman. Local natives had brought the half-drowned creature to his door, knowing Nellie had a gift for healing. Teddy could hardly turn the unconscious woman away, but the interruption was most unwelcome. He had no time for diversions. His work would suffer—had already suffered—because of this stranger’s arrival.

Teddy toyed with a bit of dried alpine geranium.
Who is she?
he wondered. No doubt she was one of the thousands who had come north with their hearts set on gold. So many parties had been lost upon the wild and reckless waters of the Yukon. The shores along the lakes and rivers were littered with the sad reminders of the invasion from the south. Teddy wished with all his heart that the strangers would all return to wherever they had come from. In the five years he’d been at work in the Yukon, he’d known a tranquil and graceful land. That tranquility, however, was greatly diminished in the wake of the Klondike gold rush.

“She sleep again, but not so long, I think,” Nellie said, coming to the table where Teddy worked only halfheartedly. “I think she much better.”

Teddy nodded. “Yes, I believe you are right.”

“I make you supper,” Nellie said and walked back to the stove without another word.

Teddy required the old woman’s presence, because without her he simply lost track of time and forgot to eat or sometimes to sleep. His work consumed him. It was a thing of great interest and passion, but it was also a challenge that he could not seem to shake. His father had always loved plant life and his desire to come to North America for the research of Canadian vegetation was a dream Teddy intended to see through to fruition. It was a sort of legacy Teddy would leave in honor of his father.

Albert Davenport had been very much a dreamer. Teddy’s mother had found his love of plants annoying, for it had taken them from her beloved estate outside of London and plunged them into the heart of Cornwall. Eugenia Davenport would endure her husband’s sojourns to the country for a time, but then, after no more than a month, she would announce her return to London. Declaring she would simply perish from the isolation of the country, Eugenia cut everyone’s stay short, for her husband was not inclined to remain in the country without her.

Teddy had adored his mother, for she was a loving parent, but he’d also resented the pain she caused his father. Albert’s dreams were unimportant to her, but not to Teddy. He had vowed to his father, even as he lay dying, that he would see to fruition his father’s dream of creating a great book of botanical study on the Canadian landscape. That vow had become a driving force in Teddy’s life, and he was bound and determined to see it through.

Perhaps that was why the presence of this woman bothered him so greatly. He didn’t want this stranger to become a deterrent to his work, as his mother had been to his father.

Teddy glanced back across the room to where the young woman slept. She had been in his cabin for over three weeks. Off and on she would awaken and then fall back to sleep. Nellie said her lungs had been full of lake water, and at first, the old woman hadn’t believed the stranger would live. Teddy had prayed for the injured woman, knowing that there were some things only God could heal. Within a fortnight, Nellie announced her belief that the woman would recover. It would take time for a full recovery, however. Time Teddy wasn’t entirely sure he could offer.

It was already October and the snows had set in. Normally he would already be heading back to his hotel room in Dawson. But he could hardly pick up and leave this complication. The woman couldn’t be left behind—but neither could she be moved.

Teddy pushed up his sleeves and leaned forward on the table. What was he to do? The woman needed him. She was helpless, and although Nellie felt confident of her recovery, Teddy couldn’t help but wonder what he was to do with her once she regained her health.

A knock on the cabin door brought Teddy out of his thoughts. What new interruption awaited him? Nellie padded across the room, a slight limp noticeable as she walked. He had once asked her about the limp and she’d told him a horrific tale of having been caught in a trap when she’d been young. The incident had left her both scarred and crippled. Teddy offered her his condolences, and Nellie had merely shrugged, saying, “It not your trap did this.”

Nellie opened the door and stood back to look at Teddy. Teddy didn’t recognize the man at the door. The stranger pushed back his fur parka and brushed crusty ice from his beard.

“I wonder if I might warm up for a spell,” the man questioned.

Teddy nodded. “Come in. I’m about to take supper.”

“I’m much obliged,” the man said. “The name’s Buckley. J. D. Buckley.”

“Thomas Davenport,” Teddy replied. Nellie closed the door behind the man and waited to take his coat. “Feel free to warm up at the stove or the fireplace,” Teddy added.

“It’s not too bad out there today,” Buckley stated. “I’ve seen worse, but I’m glad to be inside for a spell.”

Teddy nodded. He didn’t usually get visitors and that was the way he liked it. Though centrally located for his work, his cabin was well off the beaten path. There had been an increase in traffic since the gold rush pandemonium, but his area hadn’t yielded much in the way of profitable dust. For this, he was most grateful.

“If I might ask,” Teddy began, “how did you find yourself in this part of the country?”

The man rubbed his hands together. “Well, to tell you the truth, I got lost. I ain’t been up in these parts long, and I guess I took a wrong turn. I was following the Yukon River, then moved inland for a ways in order to follow an easier path. I thought I’d stayed with the Yukon, but now I see I didn’t.”

“You most likely took the fork for the Indian River. It runs off the Yukon, and if you walk too far inland and aren’t familiar with the lay of the land, it’s easy enough to get waylaid. Especially as you fork off from the Indian River and follow some of the lesser creeks and streams, which surely you must have done to wind up here.”

“Can you point me in the direction of Dawson?”

“That I can, but the hour is much too late to travel.” Teddy knew, regrettably, that he had no choice but to offer the man lodging. It was a sort of code in the north. You dealt kindly with strangers, otherwise it could cost someone their life. Especially when the weather turned cold and unforgiving. “You’re welcome to lay your blanket by the stove. I can’t offer you much in the way of privacy or space, but it will be considerably warmer than a tent in the woods.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, Mr. Davenport.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Nellie dished up a thick elk stew and placed the wooden bowls on the table. “You eat now.”

Teddy pushed his work aside and motioned to the man. “Please pardon my poor manners. Pull up a chair and join me. Nellie will bring us tea and biscuits as well.”

“Sounds good. I’m afraid I ain’t had a hot meal in some time.”

Teddy frowned. “Have you been lost all that long?”

The man took out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. Bits of ice loosened from his mustache and beard, seeming to soften the stranger’s appearance. “I ain’t been lost all that time, but to tell the truth, my partners and me had a falling out. I got the sled and a few other supplies, but not much in the way of food.”

“Have you dogs for the sled?”

The man laughed. “Nope, been pulling the heavy thing myself. My partners kept the dogs, knowing they’d fetch a good price in Dawson. Fact is, I really have no need for the sled. You wouldn’t be of a mind to trade me for some food, now, would you?”

Teddy rubbed his chin. The stubble reminded him he’d not shaved that morning. “I just might be able to help you out. I have a guest staying with me who is quite weak. It might be a good thing to have a sled to carry her in when I make my way to Dawson.”

“I’d surely be obliged.”

“Then consider it a deal. We’ll arrange a pack for you and load it with a variety of food. I’ll be closing out the cabin and heading to Dawson myself as soon as my guest can travel, so I’ll give you what I can.”

The man nodded and dug into the stew without another word. Teddy cleared his throat and asked, “Do you mind if I offer up thanks?”

The man looked rather sheepish and put down his spoon. “Like I said, I ain’t ate a hot meal in a while. Weren’t no disrespect intended to the Almighty.”

Teddy bowed his head. “For that which you have provided, oh God, we thank you. Bless us now as we share this meal. May you ever be the unseen guest at my table. Amen.”

“Amen,” Buckley said, barely waiting long enough to utter the word before shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

Teddy glanced across the room to where Nellie ministered to the sick woman. He had thought of giving her a name. Always calling her “the woman” seemed so impersonal and somehow unkind. But since he’d spent his life’s work attaching the proper name to plants, he didn’t feel right in simply attaching a random moniker to the stranger.

“So what brings you out here, mister? Gold?”

Teddy returned his gaze to the man and noticed that he looked around the room with an unguarded interest. “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve no interest in rivers of gold unless they hold some new botanical specimens.”

“Botanical what?”

“Specimens. I am conducting research on the vegetation of the region. I’m chronicling it for a book.”

“So you’re an educated fellow?”

Teddy smiled. “I suppose you might call me that. I’ve a deep love of learning.”

“Ain’t had much time for such things myself. My pa didn’t hold much respect for learnin’ in a school. He said life was a better teacher.”

Nellie brought them tea and a platter of biscuits. Without a word she placed the food on the table.

“Could you spare another bowl?” Buckley questioned, raising the empty bowl.

“Certainly. Nellie, please give the man another portion.”

The old woman nodded and took the bowl. She seemed none too pleased to deal with the stranger. She hadn’t cared for white men when Teddy approached her village some five years earlier. She had seen the damage done by the prospectors and others who had come north for their own greedy reasons. This was prior to the rush, and now that hundreds poured into her land on a daily basis, her feelings were only confirmed.

Teddy had won her over by first winning over her son Little Charley, so called not because of his physical size but to distinguish him from Big Charley, his father. Unable to speak their native language, Teddy had been greatly relieved to find many of the natives spoke a fair amount of English. Teddy explained his situation and offered to hire on several of the English-speaking natives to guide him and assist him in identifying the vegetation they found.

Five years of honorable relations had forged a bond between Teddy and Nellie. She now stayed with him from the breakup of the ice until the first heavy snows. She seemed to know when Teddy would return without his even telling her. The day or so before he was ready to head out, Nellie would be packed and ready to leave the cabin. Then when he returned in May, he would find her already sweeping out the musty cabin. They had a companionable relationship, and Teddy knew that part of this was due to his contentment with solitude, as well as his respect for the land.

Nellie put the refilled bowl in front of the stranger, then left the men to their meal. Teddy wondered if Nellie sensed something dangerous about the man. He eyed Buckley with a steady gaze, hoping that, should the man be more than he appeared, God would give Teddy clarity to know the truth. But Buckley had eyes only for the meal and scarcely drew a breath while devouring the stew.

Well, God always has a purpose for allowing circumstances in our lives
, Teddy thought. He hadn’t yet figured out the reason for the unconscious woman’s appearance or the stranger’s, but Teddy was content to leave the matter to God. Leaving the details of life to his heavenly Father left Teddy free to concentrate on what really mattered. Not that the woman didn’t intrigue him, but he couldn’t afford to let himself get carried away. His work came first. His work would honor his father and bring glory to God.

—[CHAPTER TWO]—

“IT JUST DOESN’T seem like Christmas should be only days away,” Karen Ivankov said as she hung up a pair of her husband’s trousers to dry. “I figured we’d be in a cabin by now.”

Grace Colton, now swollen in the latter months of pregnancy, nodded. Her brown eyes were edged with dark circles. “I’d hoped so as well. I hate the thought of bringing a baby into this world with nothing more than a tent to offer for a home.”

Karen’s strawberry blond hair curled tight from the humidity of the washtub. She pushed back an errant strand, regretting that she hadn’t taken the time to pin it up. The heat felt good, however, and Karen cared little for her appearance, given their setting. Living through the Yukon winter in a tent hardly allowed for niceties such as fancy hairstyles and pretty clothes. In this country everything needed to be functional and useful. Otherwise it was just extra baggage.

Her husband, Adrik, had tried hard to find them a home. He’d hoped to stake a claim and build them a house, but the pickings were slim and most of the good land was taken. Those who wanted to sell out and leave before the winter charged exorbitant prices. One man sold his claim, complete with cabin, for thirty thousand dollars before catching the last boat out of Dawson. For a family who had barely managed to hang on to the smallest amount of money, thirty thousand dollars was nothing more than a dream.