The Snowflake (7 page)

“Good night, Ellen.” He lay down as I turned back over and away from him, tears of disappointment stinging my eyes. He pulled me hard into his chest. “I’m sorry.” He said it so low I had to strain to hear it. “I wish I could give you something. I want to.”

“There is one thing I want,” I whispered.

“What’s that?”

“Christmas is coming. My father left us just before Christmas and—” The ache in my throat made words impossible for a few seconds.

Buck pulled me in tighter and leaned his face into my neck, waiting for me to continue.

“Now that Jonah is gone . . . I’ll be alone this Christmas. Would you, could you, promise to be with me for that one day?” I turned my head toward his face and watched the play of emotions in his crystal blue eyes, knowing I was asking so much.

“I promise.” His voice was gruff and low.

Joy seared my heart with a new kind of pain. “Thank you.”

I tried to stay awake, exist in the feeling for as long as possible. I watched the pinpricks of light move with aching slowness across the sky, but I must have closed my eyes and allowed the exhaustion to overcome me.

For when we woke the next morning, Sinclair was gone.

Chapter Five

Fan out and search the perimeter of the camp,” Buck instructed the men. “Sinclair may be close and still alive.”

“Yeah, he was pretty shook up yesterday.”

“His mind snapped, man,” Zeke Robbins put in.

Buck nodded. “It’s not uncommon in Alaska. Sometimes it’s the cold, sometimes the constant darkness; the stress of this march has certainly played havoc on his mind.”

George McCallister, the huge Scotsman of the group, said, “I don’t feel sorry for him. Sinclair probably cached our food and is going back for it.”

Buck’s jaw tensed. “We don’t know that for sure. If he’s innocent and we didn’t at least try and find him . . . Imagine it’s you out there, and let’s treat him as we would want to be treated.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I’m feeling better today.” Ellen looked up at him with her big brown eyes full of disquiet, and Buck’s heart lurched. He’d almost lost her yesterday. All he wanted to do was keep her close to his side.

“It’s a good twenty degrees warmer today, thank God. That will make a big difference in how we all feel.” His gaze darted over the camp. He pointed at the sleds. “You could help me hitch up the dogs and break down camp while the men search for Sinclair.”

Ellen nodded and Buck led her over to where the dogs were clumped together under a tree. Poor fellows. They were tuckered out and only flopped their tails a couple of times as Ellen and he approached. Pride shot through Buck as he looked them over. There had been many harrowing moments on the trail, moments when he was breaking the ice that formed over their nostrils, moments where they gazed at him with hunger bordering on panic making Buck wonder if they would go wild, moments when one or the other of them had slowed causing the rest of the pack to pull more of the load for a time so the weakest one could rest—all those moments when he’d prayed his dogs would make it.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as Blue’s face nuzzled his. He gathered them around him with pats to their heads, backs, and sides, their tongues lolling, eyes brighter as they nudged to get closer to him.

After warming them up, he turned toward Ellen who was smiling tenderly at him and the dogs. The smile made his breath catch. He covered the sound by clearing his throat. “I’ll show you how to hitch them to the sled.”

He handed her a long leather strap. She grasped it, gazing up at him with that look she always gave him, like she believed in him, like she trusted him and thought he could do anything. It caught him off guard as it always did, made his heart strain to rise to the challenge—to be a better man than he was and deserve that look.

God, don’t let me fail her like I failed my wife.

He paused to brush a stray curl back into her hood. The action made a knot form in his throat. What was he doing? He’d always done that with his wife—brushed back her hair into its tight braid—but Ellen’s hair was different, like a waterfall of silk. The color was a deeper brown than her eyes, strands rich with chestnut hues of brown and almost black. His fingertips brushed across her reddened cheek before his hand fell to his side.

A part of him wanted to turn and walk away. An equally strong part wanted to kiss her. He ground his teeth together.
Kalage has only been gone seven months. What’s wrong with you? Get a hold of yourself.

His voice was gruff, but he couldn’t help it as he turned toward the dogs and instructed, “Put the harness around their shoulders and chests, then we will hitch them to the sleds.”

Ellen hesitated when the first dog grew restless under her unsure hands. Feeling that he had his emotions under control, Buck walked over and petted Shelby. “It will help if you know their names. Let’s introduce you. This is Shelby, the lead dog. She is strong and never forgets a thing. We can take a trail one time and Shelby will remember it. I have never been lost with her as my lead.” He patted Shelby on the head.

“How do you know the dogs so well? I thought they came from the steamer.”

“These four and this sled are mine. I brought them with me from Sitka. That’s how Kalage and I traveled to Skagway.”

“Oh.” She looked sorry to have brought it up.

Ruffling the fur on the neck of the next dog, Buck motioned Ellen farther down the line. “This is Duke; he’s what we call the swing dog. He helps the other dogs follow Shelby’s lead.” He patted him twice on his side. “Very strong. Pretty tuckered out now, though, aren’t you, boy?”

Duke panted up into Buck’s face and then licked his hand, as if to assure Buck he was up to the task.

Buck moved to the next dog, a little smaller and darker. “This is Gunsmoke. He’s a good musher, puts all of his efforts into it. He has a heart of gold.”

Gunsmoke nuzzled into Buck’s hand and wagged his tail with an energy that spoke of love stronger than exhaustion.

“And last is Blue. She’s the youngest, just three years old, but she’s strong, and I think she has the makings of a leader in her.”

“She’s beautiful.” Ellen reached out and petted Blue’s silky head.

“She’s a full-blooded Malamute. The others are huskies except for Gunsmoke and he’s a mix.” Buck grinned. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he had some wolf in him.”

Buck finished tightening the harness on Shelby just as Randy broke through a stand of trees and hurried toward them. The look on his face wasn’t good.

“What is it, Randy? Did you find something?” Buck asked.

Randy glanced at Ellen and then said in a terse voice, “I found Sinclair.”

“Alive?”

Randy shook his head. “He’d been . . . half eaten. A bear, maybe. There were lots of tracks around him.”

Ellen covered her mouth with her hand, and Buck bit off a low curse. “That’s too bad,” Buck muttered instead. His mouth hardened into a thin line. “Bear meat isn’t the tastiest dinner, but we could sure do with some fresh meat. Do you think it might be close by?”

Randy shrugged. He had never been one of the hunters. “That’s what took me so long. I tracked the prints for a little ways, but I didn’t want to go too far alone. Should we send out a hunting party?”

Buck gazed at the group as he deliberated. If the hunters were successful, they might gain the strength to make it to Dawson. If they weren’t, they would lose valuable time and energy, making the likelihood of success a dim possibility. Buck drew out his compass, studied it, and then stared at the sky. It didn’t look like snow, but there was that gut feeling, tingling, warning him. Buck’s gaze lingered on Ellen’s face, his mouth tight and grim.

“I think a storm might be approaching. We don’t have time to waste. Let’s keep moving.”

It was midafternoon when Buck suddenly stopped and pointed. “Look!” He waved us toward him. We all stopped, each seeing it at the same time, each comprehending our salvation: Dawson City. A great cry leapt from our throats. Some of the men whooped while others fell to their knees in thanksgiving. One by one we fell apart—laughing and cheering, hugging one another with ice tears freezing on our cheeks. One by one we gave way to our hope.

I looked down at my snow-covered moccasins, then up into Buck’s glad eyes. “Will the snow really melt?”

Buck grasped my hand. “And the ice too.” His voice had a quiver in it as he gazed deep and full into my eyes.

Tears sprang to my throat as I smiled up at him in hope that someday the ice around my heart would melt too. “Yes. The ice too.”

We rushed forward with renewed energy and stumbling steps. The smile that was pasted across my frozen lips didn’t waver over the next half hour as Dawson turned from a dark spot on the horizon into the shapes of buildings and then scurrying townsfolk. As word spread, scores of people rushed from tents, shops, and saloons to greet us.

I walked down the hard-packed, snow-clogged Front Street holding tight to Buck’s side, but we were soon separated as curious men and a few women squeezed between us. Their questions sounded like distant buzzing in my ears. I looked into the faces of bearded men dressed in all manner of winter gear and swayed with exhaustion.

A woman’s arms came around to steady me as I started to collapse to the street. She held me upright for a moment with her hands on my upper arms.

I started to thank her but could only gape at her beauty. She was dressed in the most stunning gown I had ever seen. Bright red with black lace trim, cut low in the front, and a full skirt adorned with more black lace. A fur wrap hung slightly askew, as if hastily thrown over her shoulders.

When I gazed back at her face, she was smiling at me with a knowing look. Her hair was a shocking red, fat rows of curls piled atop her head and spilling down her back. She was the most outlandish and beautiful creature I had ever seen.

She stretched out a perfect, ivory hand. “I’m Kate, Queen of Dawson.”

Dawson had a queen? I knew we were in Canada now but hadn’t imagined a queen. I smiled, a feeble motion of my lips, and shook her hand. “Ellen Pierce.” I was suddenly, horribly aware of how awful I must appear.

Her smile grew, flashing perfect pearls of teeth. “I would like to ask you all sorts of questions, but you look frozen through and starving to boot. Do you have a place to stay?”

I turned and saw that Buck was surrounded by a large group of men. He seemed to be explaining our situation.

Kate’s eyes followed mine. Her gaze held appreciation mixed with humor. “Is that your husband?” Her voice had a faint accent I didn’t recognize.

I blushed and shook my head. “He’s our leader. Buck Lewis.”

“Hmmm.” She nodded and searched the crowd. Her perfect brow puckered. The frown only made her seem prettier somehow, as if that look could win her anything she wanted. Her blue eyes flashed back at me, and she rushed out the words. “Old Mrs. Lawrence is about to descend upon us. She’ll offer you a room, of course, and you should probably take it, though she’ll charge you an outrageous fee as soon as you get on your feet.”

She cocked her head and studied me for a moment and then seemed to come to some conclusion. “Or you could stay with me. I’ll not ask anything of you, but I won’t say I won’t offer an . . . opportunity or two when you are feeling better.”

“An opportunity?” Dizziness swept over me in a wave. Did the beautiful creature have any idea just how hard it was for my sluggish brain to try and decipher what she was saying?

“Never mind.” Kate drew me close to her side. “We’ll say you are my cousin. Just don’t hate me for it later.”

How I could ever hate her was beyond me.

The woman she spoke of barreled toward us and then stopped short when she saw Kate’s arm around my waist supporting me. She huffed, her gaze not quite looking at either of us.

“Mrs. Lawrence,” Kate voice took on a purring quality. “This is my cousin come all the way from . . .”

“California.” I filled in the blank.

Kate nodded happily. “I can barely believe she made it, but we’ll have to hear the tale later. She is about to drop, as you can see. I should take her home.”

The worn-out-looking woman pressed her lips together in a thin line, gave me a long studying glare, and then turned her back on us.