Rivers of Gold (21 page)

“Come on, boys,” Adrik called, “let’s get the cabin opened up and clear out the smoke. If we stand out here much longer, we’ll all be frozen in our tracks.”

“Not if we warm ourselves by the potatoes,” Grace suggested.

They all broke into peals of laughter, and even Karen had to smile. Gone were her dreams of potatoes fried to a golden brown, a hint of bacon flavoring each morsel. Easy come, easy go. It was the story of gold, be it rock ore or potatoes.

—[CHAPTER NINETEEN]—

APRIL 26, 1899, dawned in Dawson City at forty-below. To say it was cold was to come nowhere near describing the painful bite of the northern wind. Very few people moved on the streets below, and those who did brave the cold were bundled like furry snowmen.

The cold seemed to permeate everything. It seeped into the very core and left a person with the desire to do nothing but bury himself under piles of covers. Teddy gave serious thought to making this his last winter in the Yukon. He felt trapped. As surely by his own conscience, as by the cold.

Teddy stood at the frosted window of his hotel room. His thoughts bothered him in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge. He was keeping the truth from Miranda.

It wasn’t hard to rationalize why he was remaining silent, but it was hard to see how much she longed for some kind of contact with her friends—and do nothing to help. Teddy turned from the window and paced the room. Miranda had gone downstairs to the kitchen to get some hot water for their tea. Teddy had suggested they simply have one of the staff bring it up, but Miranda had wanted the exercise. She was suffering a terrible bout of cabin fever and longed for sunny days and warmth. Teddy didn’t blame her. He longed for the same, only he longed for such things with Miranda at his side.

“But surely she’ll leave me when she finds her friends,” he said aloud. “And how could I fault her for that? She has history with them that she does not share with me.”

Teddy’s thoughts went back to the day they’d kissed. He’d been so dumbfounded by her initiation of the act that he had initially said nothing—done nothing. Then when she’d fled from the room, looking as though she’d broken all ten commandments at once, he knew he was in love with her. He knew, too, that he wanted to kiss her again, and this time he wanted to be the one to initiate the kiss.

And he had kissed her. The thought of her lips upon his still haunted him. He would have kissed her many times over since that wonderful day, but Miranda had been skittish and shy around him ever since. The only time she’d really seemed her old self was when she’d cut her hand.

Teddy wouldn’t have wished her pain for all the world, but he did enjoy her neediness when she was incapable of helping herself. He felt wonderfully necessary in her life when she was ill or injured—though he certainly had no desire for her to spend her days as an invalid. No, he really just wanted her to need him all the time. To need his company—his hospitality—his love.

His earlier fears of Miranda’s interfering in his work had faded with the passing of each day. She was nothing like his mother. Eugenia Davenport had cared nothing for her husband’s dream while Miranda Colton seemed quite enthusiastic about Teddy’s desires. The only problem was that Teddy’s enthusiasm for his work was fading in light of the revelation that he had fallen in love.

Already he could envision a future with Miranda working at his side. They’d complete the book and go on a lecture tour discussing the various aspects of Yukon vegetation and forestry. They’d spend quiet evenings in discovery—discovery of books, plants, and each other.

A cloud settled over him, making Teddy feel quite black in his mood. There would be no future with Miranda, however. She would hate him when she knew the truth. Maybe he could still figure out a way to keep her from finding out.

“I must tell her,” he declared in defeat. Keeping the truth from her was making him feel quite heartsick. He argued with himself in his dreams from dusk to dawn, and when he would awaken from his restless sleep tormented with guilt, he’d start the whole process all over again with his conscious mind. No, it was best to get the truth out and tell her exactly what had happened and why he’d not told her the truth.

“But the setting should be special,” he murmured. “Perhaps then she’d be more inclined to forgive me.”
Please let her forgive me
.

An idea came to him to have the cook prepare a special dinner. They could eat privately in the little office downstairs. He’d have it all arranged. There would be candles and beautiful linens and, of course, crystal. He would see to it that the table was perfect.

Teddy began plotting the dinner, deciding on whatever fancy feast his money might buy. He’d heard that Muldoon’s Saloon and Restaurant had some pork chops that they were selling for an outrageous sum. Perhaps he could get cook to secure a couple for their meal. They would be tasty with a bit of rosemary, which Teddy could provide from his supplies of herbs. He’d considered it his great fortune to have traded cash for a vast array of herbs from a woman he’d met in British Columbia. The herbs had served him well on many an occasion and would no doubt be just the thing to make their rather bland fare a bit livelier.

“Here we are,” Miranda announced, opening the door. She balanced a tray of tea and Swedish cookies on her right hip, looking as if she’d been serving tables her whole life.

“Let me help,” Teddy said, going to her. He took the tray and smiled. “What would you think about a surprise?”

“It depends on what the surprise is,” Miranda replied. “Cutting my hand was a surprise. Falling overboard on Lake Laberge was a surprise. I’d just as soon know about the arrangement prior to deciding whether I’m for it or against it.”

“It’s a good surprise,” he replied.

Miranda’s expression turned to one of excitement. “Have you found my friends?”

Teddy felt bad for having given her false hope. “No, but I think you’ll be pleased with my idea, nevertheless.”

She lowered her face, and Teddy knew she was struggling to keep him from seeing her disappointment. She’d tried so hard to be stoic—for his sake. He knew he’d been less than comforting when she’d brought up the past and the long separation she’d endured. But in a town with some thirty thousand people, she was expecting the impossible. He had only wanted her to understand the situation and how difficult it was. He didn’t want her to feel that she couldn’t confide in him, yet sadly, he knew that was how she felt.

“So what did you have in mind?” she asked softly.

Teddy put the tray down and began to pour the tea. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Miranda moved to the table and studied him for a moment. Cocking her head, one brow raised ever so slightly, she questioned him again, “What are you planning?”

“I assure you it is all good. I would never do anything to hurt you.” He swallowed hard, and this time it was his turn to look away. Of course, he hadn’t meant to hurt her, but by being inattentive and not listening to the names of her friends, he had inadvertently kept Miranda from finding her loved ones months ago. There was no way he could keep that from hurting her.

“So when is this surprise to be unveiled?”

He handed her a cup and saucer. “Tonight. Tonight at seven.”

She nodded. “Very well, Teddy Davenport. I shall trust you this once.”

Her words went through his heart like a knife.
Oh, please, Lord
, he prayed.
Please let her understand
.

The candlelight dinner completely captivated Miranda. She had come to expect certain things from Teddy, and romantic displays didn’t fit that list.

Upon his instruction, she had dressed in her finest gown, a pale cream wool trimmed in gold braiding. Teddy had purchased it for her from a local seamstress. The woman had fussed and fawned over Miranda until she thought she might very well faint from exhaustion. The experience, however, had merited her three new gowns, and of all of them, this was the most beautiful and elegant.

“Teddy, what is this all about?” she asked as she unfolded her napkin.

“I thought we deserved a special evening. I had an epiphany of sorts and needed to share it with you. But first, we shall dine on very fine food. I’ve had the cook scouring the city since this afternoon. He’s procured for us two very thick pork chops, baked potatoes, applesauce spiced with cloves and nutmeg, and a brandied plum cake, which he assures me will be most rewarding.”

Miranda thought the food sounded most delightful. She certainly hadn’t gone hungry staying here at the hotel under Teddy’s care, but neither did they eat all that well. This was Dawson, after all. They were isolated in the frozen Yukon without hope of major deliveries until spring breakup. Supplies were running low—and the variety was definitely lacking. Spring thaw couldn’t come soon enough.

Miranda knew that date was to come upon them within a month or so, as people were already placing bets on when the river’s ice would thaw enough to break free. It certainly wasn’t going to happen if the days stayed at forty-below, as this one had. But it would come—soon enough.

One of the housekeeping girls acted as their server. She brought the plates, bearing the offering of the beautifully arranged meal, hot from the kitchen.

“Might I offer a prayer?” Teddy asked.

Miranda nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Father, we thank you,” Teddy prayed, “for this bounty and for the bounty you will provide on the morrow. We thank you for hearing our prayers and for tenderly caring for us. Amen.”

“Amen,” Miranda whispered.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Neither one seemed willing to let the food get even marginally cold. The serving girl brought in fresh hot rolls and Miranda nearly swooned when she saw they were accompanied by a small amount of butter.

“I’ve not tasted butter in ever so long,” she said, taking a tiny bit to smear on her roll.

Teddy reached across and slathered the roll more sufficiently. “I’m not that fond of butter, but I know it is a treat for you.”

Miranda felt overwhelmed by his kindness. Surely he longed for the comforts of civilization. He was of a fine English family, moneyed and educated. It must have been hard on him to be so isolated from the things he’d grown up with.

“What do you miss most about England?” she asked.

Teddy looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then he turned his gaze to the ceiling above her head. He looked to be a million miles away.

“I miss the comfort of having everything neatly ordered. There is a settled feeling to the land—a knowledge of whom it has belonged to for centuries. Wherever you look, you have the feeling of a gentleness that cannot be had here.” He looked back to smile at Miranda. “If England is a refined and elegant old lady, then the Yukon is her defiant and rebellious grandchild.”

“I would love to see England some day,” Miranda said softly. “The man I told you about, Crispin Thibault, the one I thought I saw in the alley, he was from abroad. He told such wonderful stories. He had skied in the Alps and sailed fjords in Scandinavia. He made it all sound so wonderful—so completely amazing. Before I came with my parents to Alaska,” she said thoughtfully, “I’d never traveled outside of California. In fact, I’d hardly seen more than San Francisco.”

“Perhaps one day you’ll visit England. I’d love to have you stay at my estate. I would love to show you all the places I love so much.”

Miranda sobered and looked into his dark eyes. She saw something in his expression that wasn’t all together clear. There was a certain amount of passion and desire, but there was something else as well—something almost akin to regret.

The dinner passed much too quickly, and once the dishes had been cleared away and fat slices of plum cake had replaced the entrée, Teddy decided to speak more seriously.

“I have something to tell you. I’m not at all sure how you will take it, but I beg you to bear with me and hear me out before you comment.”

Miranda felt a tightening in her chest. What was he about to tell her? Had he found out something horrible in regard to her friends? “What is it?” she asked, leaning forward.

“First promise to hear me out.”

“I promise,” she said without thought. “Now tell me.”

“I came to realize the other day, the day you cut your hand, where it was I had heard the name of Adrik Ivankov.”

“Is that all? I told you about him—and Karen and Grace and the Barringer children. How could you have not remembered?”

“Because I failed to really listen.” He bowed his head momentarily, refusing to meet her gaze. “I was selfishly enveloped in my own affairs. I was focused only on completing my work. You see, this book was very important to my father, and I wanted very much to honor him.”

“I don’t understand.” Miranda had the feeling she wasn’t going to like what Teddy had to tell her, but she needed to know the truth.

“When we arrived in Dawson, do you remember that I sold our sled?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the man I sold it to was Adrik Ivankov.”

“What?” Her voice took on an alarmed tone. “You sold it to him and didn’t tell me?”

Teddy pushed back from the table, his face betraying his anguish. “I didn’t realize who he was. Please, just hear me out. I hadn’t remembered you telling me the man’s name.”