Читать книгу Yukon Wedding - Allie Pleiter - Страница 13

Mack pushed the floorboard into place with his boot. “So I told her I’d think on it.”

Ed Parker, down off the trail, in between prospecting trips, hauled more board over from the stack at the far end of the new general store’s main room. “You did, did you? Why’d you say that?”

Mack held the board in place with one foot while he nailed the edge down. “Because she loved the idea. She was all fired up and ready to fight for it. I hadn’t even seen the sun go down twice on our house and already things are—” he searched for a word “—complicated.”

“Nothing complicated about it. Say ‘no’ and that’ll be end of it.”

Because that wouldn’t be the end of it. He’d seen it in her eyes. This notion had a hold of her and she wasn’t about to let it go. Logic didn’t come into it. The most he could hope for was to hold off until her head cleared. “You married, Ed?”

Ed dropped the stack of boards with a smirk. “Nope.”

“Well, when you’ve got to spend every morning sitting across from a woman you’ve said no to, then you come and give me advice, okay?” Mack drove the final nail home.

Ed pulled another board off the stack and slid it up against the one Mack had just secured. “You ain’t been married but a few days. What do you know about all that stuff anyways?”

Mack pound in the next nail. “That’s the secret to my success. I learn fast.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as you’ve got a teacher for a wife and all. Me, I think you have a lot to learn.”

“Mack!” Any further commentary was cut short by the appearance of Caleb Johnson. “Got another one for you.”

Mack set down his hammer and straightened up with a groan. “Sixth this month. I thought we’d see more of these in winter than now.” He walked out of the general store’s framed-out shell to see a scrawny young man in tattered shoes and nowhere near enough clothing for the trail’s demanding weather. “What’s your name, son?”

“David Mindown, sir. Out of Seattle. Came up two weeks ago.”

It was the Seattle ones that always showed up like this. Young men who’d hopped the next boat, so sure of their fortune, only to discover how cruel the Chilkoot Trail could be. Mack was surprised he’d lasted this long. “How old are you, Mindown?”

“Twenty-one.”

Mack doubted he’d seen twenty, from the looks of him. “Got family back in Seattle, do you?”

The boy just nodded. The ones that came back down off the trail—especially the ones Caleb brought to him—would almost choke up at the mention of home and family. Most of them were so broken down and hungry they’d been known to call any woman who offered them a good meal and a bit of care “Mother.”

“Got anything left at all?”

Caleb and the boy shook their heads simultaneously. This boy should have never been allowed up the trail. Harder men than he had barely made it halfway. Mack put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, finding it sharp and bony under the thin shirt he wore. “Time to go home, son. Some adventures are better left to other days. You come on by the house tomorrow morning and I’ll get you squared away. There’s a ship leaving on Tuesday, I’ll book you passage. You got a place to sleep and eat until then?”

“Mavis said the shack is open,” Caleb answered. Mavis Goodge, the boardinghouse owner in town, had a little bunkhouse out on the back of her property that she’d fixed up for just such circum stances. Treasure Creek had crafted an odd little rescue system. Caleb usually found the wayward miners in need of rescue. Teena Crow often tended to whatever wounds she could with the Tlingit healing ways that were her gift, as the town still had no doctor to speak of. Mavis gave them shelter. Lucy Tucker took it upon herself to feed whomever was housed out in the little shack, so that it wasn’t a burden on Mavis. And Mack funded their passage home. Every home and business in Treasure Creek was either sending prospectors up the Chilkoot or catching them when they fell back down, so needs somehow always got met.

Still, no one really saw to the spiritual needs of all those broken men—except the missionary on the trail, Thomas Stone. And still, he was only one man. Treasure Creek needed a real church, which meant the town needed a real pastor with teaching and preaching gifts, not just a fill-in general store owner with good intentions. Mack seemed to see it more clearly with every lost soul who limped down off the mountain.

“Mavis’ll set you up for tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow then, David Mindown. And don’t you bother with anyone who says they’ll wire your mama from Skaguay. There’s no telegraph from there, only wires that don’t lead to anything except your money going into someone else’s pocket.” The sham was a common one—and one of the hundreds of predatory schemes that led to Mack’s vision of a honest town in Treasure Creek.

Ed came up behind him on the General Store’s future front steps. “You’re too good to kids like that. A fella’s got to learn to pull himself up by his own bootstraps. You can’t go around scooping ’em up and sending them back home just ’cause they’ve hit hard times.”

Mack looked at the skinny fellow sulking his way down the street beside Caleb. “Hard times is one thing. Freezing to death on the trail is another. You and I both know what they do to pups like that in Skaguay.”

“Yep,” replied Ed as they both turned back to their work, “but I wish I didn’t.”

Lana spent the morning organizing the house and cooking Mack a nice picnic lunch. He was working hard keeping his provisions outpost running while building the new general store, and he’d lost time while he took her to Skaguay. Lana thought she owed him the courtesy of a decent meal. Besides, things had been rather cool when he left this morning, and she hoped the gesture might smooth things over.

She’d been so taken with the concept of teaching, it hadn’t even occurred to her how broadsided Mack would be by the idea. Even she found it rather sudden. Snapping at him for his honest reaction wasn’t the smartest response. Jed hadn’t been a champion of honesty in marriage, and she was just coming to understand that honesty sometimes meant you didn’t like what you heard.

She made the mistake of stopping by one of the dockside fruit stalls on her way to the General Store. Treasure Creek’s waterfront could be beautiful or chaotic, depending on which ship was docked. “Serves me right,” Lana chided herself as she hoisted Georgie up on one hip, for fear of losing him in today’s teeming, boisterous crowd. Caleb would have his hands full today; men, animals and crates of every description were piled in disorganized clumps all over the beach and adjoining road. Lana heard four different languages and winced at several bouts of indecent banter as she picked her way through the throng. She had just decided fresh fruit wasn’t worth the trouble when a young man sidled up next to her.

“Lemme me carry that for you, ma’am. Looks like quite a load to get through this mob.” The double load of toddler and picnic basket had made maneuvering treacherous, if not close to impossible. She vaguely recognized him; he was in his early twenties, clean-cut by Skaguay standards and boasting a charming smile. He tipped his hat at both her and Georgie. “You’s Mack’s new wife, ain’t you?”

“Thank you. I am.”

“And you used to be Jed’s gal, right?” He took the basket from her arm with one hand, putting the other over his heart. “Shame about Jed. I’m sorry for your loss, but I expect you’ll be right happy as Mrs. Tanner. Fine man, Mack Tanner.”

“He is indeed.” She nodded toward the basket. “That’s his lunch you’re hauling. And Georgie’s.”

“And a cute little bug he is, too. You make a pretty family. I expect he treats you right, buys you all kinds of pretty things. A man of such position ought to display his success, I always say.”

Something in his turn of phrase, or maybe just slippery edge of his words, made her sorry she’d let him take the basket. “Mack treats me well.”

“He should. He can. Generous man, Mack Tanner. ’Course, that’s easy to do when you’ve got a heap of gold to back up your fine sentiments. What I wouldn’t give to be his banker, hmm?”

Lana didn’t care for the direction of this conversation. “My husband makes no secret of his distrust in banks, Mr….”

“No sir,” he replied, ignoring her cue for his name, “I believe I’ve heard as much.” He leaned too close to her, arching one eyebrow in a way that sent a shiver down Lana’s back. “Makes a man wonder, though. Where does a smart man like your husband keep that heap of gold?” She felt his hand take hold of her elbow. “Jed left you a heap of gold all your own, come to think of it. My, what a fortune the two of you must make. Tell me, does Mack share his hiding places with his pretty little wife? His pretty little rich widow, who wanders the streets alone?”

Lana yanked her hand free and turned on the weasely little man. She snatched the basket from him with all the force she could muster, even though it nearly sent Georgie rocking. “What he shares is none of your business! And the wife of Mack Tanner had best be able to walk anywhere she pleases without foolish threats from the likes of you. I expect if you show your face in Treasure Creek again…” Before she could finish her angry thought, the man had tipped his hat in a sinister fashion and melted back into the bustling crowd around her.

She stood for a shocked, angry moment, gasping and clutching Georgie tight to her side. In all her time up north, even in Jed’s days of showing off their wealth, she’d never been threatened like that. Curiosity over the whereabouts of Mack’s wealth always fueled gossip in Treasure Creek—even Jed had never known where Mack kept his funds. And Jed hadn’t ever hid his wealth, which drew all kinds of hangers-on, but those parasites had showed the good graces to stay away from her. Mostly. It had never fueled something like this. In the middle of town. To her own person.

Marriage was supposed to have kept her from being this kind of target. Instead of afraid, the whole affair made her angry. Marrying Mack was supposed to offer protection, but did it paint a bull’s-eye on her back instead? Or—worse yet—Georgie’s?

Fuming, Lana pushed her way through the noisy waterfront crowd to the General Store building site. She stomped up the steps to thrust herself and Georgie through the half-framed doorway, casting the basket to the floor with a huff.

“Still sore at me?” Mack’s tone was teasing until he saw her face.

“There was a man down on the waterfront. He offered to help me with the basket, and I recognized him. Sort of.” She fought the urge to brush off her elbow where he’d grabbed her. “He was nice at first, but then he had the nerve to threaten me.”

Mack crossed the large room to her in a handful of steps. “Who threatened you? Why?” His raised voice sent Georgie’s lip quivering.

“He assumed you’d told me where you keep your gold. And Jed’s. And he made it quite clear that ‘a lady of my substantial resources’ shouldn’t walk the streets by myself.”

Mack’s face darkened instantly. “Who said this?”

“He looked familiar, but I don’t know his name. I’ve seen him before, I know that much.”

“He threatened you because you’re married to me?” Mack nearly roared, sending Georgie into tears.

Ed Parker came up behind Mack, “You’re frightening the boy, Mack. Hold your horses.”

Mack tried to compose himself by turning away and pacing the room. “Of all the underhanded, low-life…” He looked up at Lana. “You said you knew him?”

“I recognized him. I suspect he was an…associate…of Jed’s. He didn’t offer his name when I asked.”

“He knows what’s coming to him if I did know his name. You’d know him if you saw him again?”

“I doubt I’ll get his sneer out of my head for quite a while.”

“Don’t you leave,” Mack commanded, pointing at both Lana and Ed as he made for the door.

“He slipped back into the crowd, Mack,” Lana called. “A block or two back. You won’t find him now.”

“Watch me,” Mack growled, sending Georgie into full-scale howling.

“Must you—”

“Mack!” Ed cut in as he beat Mack to the door frame. “Don’t go off all fired up. You won’t solve anything like this. He’s just some fool out to rattle your cage.”

“Consider me rattled.” Mack looked back at Lana. “Are you hurt? Georgie? Did he touch you?”

Lana smoothed Georgie’s hair, bouncing him up and down gently until his cries muffled down to short bursts of whimpering. “No, he caught hold of my arm for a second, that’s all.”

“He touched you? I’ll wring his neck, I will.”

“I’m not hurt, Mack. I refused to be bullied by some low-life miner off the docks.”

“That low-life miner could have done any number of things to you. Or Georgie. Thank God above neither of you were hurt.”

“He never touched Georgie.” She looked straight at Mack. “It’s getting worse instead of better, Mack. The boats just keep dumping people out, no matter who they are and what they want.”

“Oh, we know what they want, all right. No questions there.” Mack drew a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, grappling to get his temper under control. “I’ll find him.”

“You will,” Ed said. “But not today.” Ed turned to Lana. “I’m right glad you’re okay after a scare like that. Do you think you could describe him? Anything that might pick him out of a crowd?”

Lana felt her anger return as she brought the slippery character to mind. “He had an accent. Georgia. Or Texas, maybe.” She gave all the physical description she could, trying to keep her voice even and calm, to help Georgie settle himself. She opened the picnic basket and pulled out a bit of bread to distract the boy. “His hat had a colored feather in it. Like a peacock’s.”

“The fool. Thinking he can do that to you.” Mack continued pacing, his voice low but still menacing. “You go nowhere alone. You understand that? Nowhere.”

That wasn’t the answer. “Mack, I’m not some orchid who has to be guarded,” Lana countered. “He scared me, but I’ve lived here as long as you, and nothing’s ever happened before.”

“You haven’t been Mrs. Tanner before,” he shot back.

She had been Mrs. Jedadiah Bristow. That had been education enough. “And I’ve no mind to be imprisoned for that!”

“I’ll not have you putting yourself in danger.”

His overprotective response made her almost sorry she’d told him of the incident. “One fool thinking he can scare me is not danger.”

“You don’t know that, Lana.”

“It’s only worse when the waterfront is mobbed like that.”

“So you stay off the waterfront. Until further notice.” His annoying, paternal tone had her thinking he’d wag a finger at her in another second.

“I already planned to do just that. When the big ships are in.”

“At all times.”

“Mack—”

“A man just threatened you, Lana, and I will not have you taking a chance like that again.” Georgie’s whimper returned and Mack visibly reined in his temper. “Not even to bring me lunch.” After a moment, he added, “Thank you for bringing me lunch, all the same. It smells wonderful.”

He was making an effort, reluctant as it was. Perhaps she ought to as well. “There’s enough for you, Mr. Parker.” In her exuberance—and the joy of having more than enough supplies to cook anything she wanted after so many weeks of scraping by—she’d probably made enough for four.

“I may not be a scholar, but I know enough to leave two newlyweds alone. Even arguin’ ones. How about I take Georgie over to the carpenters and see if I can find some scraps we can make into blocks?” He looked at Georgie. “You got any blocks yet, fella? Every boy needs blocks.” Despite Lana’s certainty that Georgie wouldn’t go two feet from her after all the fuss, Georgie toddled over to the big man’s outstretched hand.

“Mind him, Ed,” Mack called after the unlikely pair. “He misses his own nephews, I think,” Mack remarked to Lana. “He’s a big old teddy bear on the inside.”

She managed a laugh. “You’d never know it to look at him.”

“He’s had a rough life. Seen a lot—both good and bad. He’s been a good friend, though, since…” He gave a forced sigh and settled himself on the store floor, sunlight streaming in around them through the still open framework on one side of the building. Some days she could be so swallowed up by the loss of her husband of three years that she would clean forget Mack had lost his best friend of nearly thirty years. How two such different men could grow up together and still stay friends always amazed her.

She looked up at the grief shadowing Mack’s eyes and sighed. They still didn’t quite know how to be alone in a room together. Lana occupied herself by unfolding a napkin. “We’ve all had a rough night. Tempers are short.”

He made a low grunt in reply and rubbed his neck. “Smells mighty good,” he admitted, as the scent of the chicken wafted through the room.

She filled a tin plate and handed it to him. “I’m a very capable person, you know.”

He looked up, a what’s that supposed to mean? expression in his eyes.

“I’m smart enough to know what’s possible and what isn’t.” She filled a plate for herself. “For example, I am smart enough to know that I can’t make it up here alone, but I am also smart enough to know that I can teach those books.”

His eyes flicked up from the food, but he said nothing.

Lana settled her plate on her lap and deliberately softened her tone. She waited for the tension to ebb from the room, watching instead how the crisp ribbons of sunlight illuminated the bits of sawdust dancing on the waterfront breeze. Keeping her tone as soft as she knew how, Lana caught his eyes. “Tell me why you don’t like the idea of my teaching.”

He gave the question considerable thought before replying. “I think,” he chose his words carefully, “that your plate is full enough already. If you’ll pardon the lunch reference,” he added with the barest hint of a smile. “And then there’s Georgie. I don’t see how you could do it.”

“Well, I don’t know much of that myself yet.” He obviously hadn’t expected such an answer, for he stared hard at her, as if she were some difficult puzzle he couldn’t solve. It was true. She felt like a puzzle to herself today.

“You don’t need the job. You’re provided for now.”

“I don’t need the money, true. But I think I need the challenge. There’s a right way to do this.” The ambitious urge those books pulled out of her caught her by surprise, much as that hideous miner had this morning. “I want Treasure Creek to have a good school for Georgie. I want everyone here to have a good school.”

“And you’ve a definite opinion on how that ought to happen.” He declared it like an unfortunate fact of nature, like floods or avalanches.

“I do. And you’re right, I know the why but not the how. At least not yet. So…” She put a luxurious slather of butter on her biscuit, “I’d like to try and work it out. I don’t think asking you to keep an open mind about this is too much.” She looked up and caught his eye again, pleased to see the dark storm of anger had retreated considerably, replaced with a rather amusing curiosity. If there was anything Lana Bristow Tanner knew how to do best, it was to coax a deal into existence. “In return, I’ll keep an open mind about your ideas of what’s needed for my safety.”

He managed an actual smile. “Those marriage vows had ‘honor’ in them, and some other words, but I don’t recall much about ‘keep an open mind.’”

He’d left out the bit about “obey,” and they both knew it. Lana sat up straight. “An open mind is the highest honor a man can give his wife.”

Her statement amounted to a well-played verbal parry, and Mack raised a dubious eyebrow before dissolving into a smirk. They both laughed. It was the first time they’d laughed together, and the first time Lana could remember laughing in ages. There was a precious warmth to it. It was—dare she think it?—fun to coax a deal out of him. He matched her efforts by displaying his “consideration” with an oversize thinking expression while devouring a piece of chicken. His dark blue eyes had hints of gold and green in them when the light hit them right. She’d thought of them as a flat, stormy blue, but there was a shimmer in the storm she hadn’t noticed before. Yes, he did have a playful side. One she’d all but forgotten in the onslaught of drama and conflict that had been both their lives. Georgie would be good for him. Shake some of that stiffness out of him in the way that only small children can.