Golden Dawn Page 9

  “We’ve hours to go before suppertime.” His voice sounded strained. “I’ll check the snares in a few hours.”

  “All right.” She looked down at the dusty hem of her dress, then back at him. “The salad and bread are wonderful additions to our table, and we’re thankful for each bite. Please don’t think there’s anything wrong with a plate of beans.”

  “Are you reminding me to be thankful for whatever we have?”

  “If that’s so, it’s unintentional. I wanted to let you know that I’m thankful. Tucker and I are eating better now than we have since we came up here.” As soon as she spoke, Meredith wanted to take back those words. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Tucker works hard, and we’ve done just fine.”

  “Your brother is a good man.” Ian gave a definitive nod. “Hardworking, God-fearing, and he loves you.”

  Tension draining out of her, Meredith grinned. “Almost as much as I love him.”

  “I hold no doubt that he’d disagree.” Ian dusted off his hands. “You’re a rare woman.”

  Pleasure thrummed through her. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

  “I’m not just saying it. I’m meaning it.” He cast a look around them. “Since I’ve arrived, I’ve seen any number of miners tromp over here. You sew and do laundry and write letters for them. Every last one has spoken of marriage to you.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Before you think I’ve eavesdropped, a handful have proposed to you in my presence, and Tucker told me the rest have done likewise. Know this, Meredith Smith: I’m speaking from an earnest heart, not out of flattery in hopes of gaining a wife to wash and mend my clothes.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what more to say.

  “I’d best get back to work.”

  “Me, too.” She watched him stride over to the smokehouse, hop down into the hole in the earth he’d been digging, and take up his pickax. So he’s not attracted to me. Ian’s the first man I’ve met in Alaska who appeals to me, and he doesn’t even want a wife.

  Twelve

  I did it. I finally told Merry I’m courting her. The way those strange men dump filthy, stinking clothes at her feet and ask her to be their wife—it shows no respect or caring. A huge chunk of rock yielded to the pickax. Thoroughly pleased with himself, Ian kept working. Now that she knows I appreciate her for her kind heart and lively spirit, she’ll understand I’m different.

  He’d work himself to death if necessary to be sure Merry had whatever she needed. To be sure, the lass never wanted much at all, but Ian was determined. He’d hunt and farm so she’d never have to be satisfied with a meager meal, and he’d coax every last fleck of gold from the claim in order to provide for her.

  Twice that afternoon, he paused from work only long enough to drink water and check the snares. Empty. They remained empty.

  Lord, I’m counting on You. Merry needs to see how I can provide for her.

  A gunshot sounded.

  Ian leapt from the hole and snatched the shotgun he always kept within reach. “Merry, get in the cabin!”

  “Git offa my claim!” Mr. Abrams shouted.

  Instead of obeying Ian, Meredith came running toward him. Ian turned toward Abrams’s claim and shoved Meredith behind his back.

  “Settle down, you old geezer.” A man stood in the middle of Abrams’s claim. He held two huge salmon. “I’m fixin’ to trade. Feller named Smith sent me.”

  “What do I get? You’re on my property.”

  Meredith popped out from behind Ian. “Why, Mr. Abrams, letting him cross your property is your contribution to our supper tonight.”

  “Merry, get back behind me.” Ian didn’t wait for her to comply. He stepped in front of her.

  “I’m in no danger.” She started to shift.

  Ian kept hold of his shotgun and reached back with his other hand. He grabbed her and held her in place. “Abrams has that rifle in his arms. There’s no telling what he’ll shoot, but it’s not going to be you.”

  “Rafferty, what do you say?” Abrams shouted.

  “Put down your rifle and let him come across.”

  Abrams shook his head. “Dunno. Bears like salmon. Might be one takes a mind to follow this man. Can’t let down my guard.”

  The stranger pushed past Abrams. “A bear would want the salmon, not you, you old goat.”

  Meredith muffled a giggle.

  As the man started across the bridge, Tucker glanced at her. “You like salmon.”

  “I adore it.”

  “It’s written all over your face. One look, and he’ll know he has the advantage on this barter. Go on inside. I promise, you’ll have salmon for supper.”

  To his relief, Meredith walked to her cabin and went inside. He didn’t want men ogling her. Once she shut the door, Ian folded his arms across his chest and waited. Whoever spoke first in a bargain always walked away with the shorter end of the deal. Meredith wanted salmon, and Ian determined he would strike a bargain whereby she’d get both of the ones this man carried.

  “Coffee,” the man said as he stepped off the bridge, onto the shore.

  “Coffee,” Ian repeated, surprised Tucker would have sent anyone to trade fish for his beloved drink.

  The man nodded. “Erik Kauffey. Sounds like the drink, but spelled different. I brought these to barter. You’ve got to admit, they’re beauts. Big ones, too.”

  “I’m Ian Rafferty. Smith’s my partner.” He motioned toward a stump. “Set those down over there.”

  “Where’d the little lady go?”

  Ian gave him a steely glare. “Did you come here to barter or to banter?”

  Kauffey heaved a so-that’s-the-way-things-go sigh. “The salmon were fresh caught this morning. One’s female, so you’ll even be getting roe in the bargain.”

  “Never could stand the stuff.” Clearly, Kauffey accepted that Meredith was off-limits, so he pursued the barter by pointing out the advantages of Ian’s obtaining the salmon. Ian knew better than to jump in and agree, so he shrugged. “I’ve heard roe makes for good fertilizer.”

  “Roe’s good to bait snares for birds. Lots of ptarmigan here.”

  “Ptarmigan. They’re in the grouse family, right?”

  “Yeah. White-tailed ones are local. Wings are always white, but come snow season, they’re all white. Good eating.” Kauffey sauntered over toward the vegetable garden.

  “I haven’t seen many.”

  “Funny birds, ptarmigan.” Kauffey headed toward the far corner. “They show up and disappear in a wink. You ought to be glad they haven’t been around much. They’d eat every last leaf you have here.”

  “They’d have to fight the hares for the privilege.”

  Kauffey squatted down and inspected a head of lettuce. “If you take it into consideration, I’m not averse to taking something if a rabbit or bird took the first bite.”

  “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Ten minutes later, Meredith exited her cabin and met Ian over by the stump. “That man practically danced across the bridge to go home.”

  Ian grinned. “You know those two heads of lettuce and the cabbage that the hares nibbled? He took all three and I tossed in some rhubarb. The way he dashed off, I think he was afraid I’d change my mind.”

  “Up close, these salmon are even bigger than I thought. A quarter of one will be a feast for us. I can smoke the rest. Oh! If I put some of it in a pail and tuck it in the cleft of that rock over there, the water will keep it chilled. We can enjoy fresh salmon again tomorrow!”

  “That’s clever of you.” He pulled his knife from his belt sheath. “I’ll—”

  “You’ll let me see to them. With Tucker loving to fish, I’m a dab hand at this. You have more important things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “Put in a fireplace.”

  “I’ve decided to put in a stove.”

  She reared back. “A stove? How will you ever get a stove?”

  “I know Socks
has one in his mercantile for thirty-two dollars. ’Tis highway robbery. But shipping one from Oregon to here will be reasonable.”

  “I—I didn’t mean the cost.” Hectic color filled her cheeks. “I wondered how you’d transport it. Wily’s umiak would sink the minute you loaded the stove aboard.”

  “Wagon wheels. By affixing axels and wheels to the box, I can have Bess pull it in.”

  “You’re serious!”

  “That I am. Sears won’t ship to Alaska, but the catalog shows a Southern Sunshine cookstove. It’s a dandy thing. My folks will find one and ship it here. I figure the crate it comes in can serve as a wagon of sorts. It’ll be easier to haul produce into Goose Chase.”

  “Are you sure you want to sell Bess when the weather changes?”

  “There’s insufficient feed for her here. I just wanted to mention about the wagon so if there was anything heavy or bulky that you and Tucker might want, you could take advantage of the opportunity.”

  “Thank you. We’ll keep it in mind.”

  Something in her tone of voice struck him as odd. Ian cleared his throat. “Forgive me if I’m out of place, but it occurs to me that Tucker is your only family. My family back in Oregon would be more than willing to locate goods and ship them for you. It’s far cheaper.”

  “That’s a kind offer. Tucker and I actually have an uncle, but we already have everything we need.”

  Ian didn’t challenge her. To his way of thinking, Meredith didn’t have half of what she needed.

  Over the next two months, he grew increasingly perplexed at why she and Tucker bought only the barest essentials for themselves. It made no sense; the garden flourished and brought cash, gold dust, and a wide variety of items in barter—not enough to make them all rich, but certainly sufficient to provide comfortably for their needs.

  Perhaps they’re worried next year will be harsh and they’re trying to set aside for lean times—like Joseph advised Pharaoh to do. With that in mind, Ian determined to work even harder to reassure Merry that she’d not have to worry.

  ❧

  Merry stretched as Tucker twisted from side to side. Ian emerged from the smokehouse. “All done?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She watched as he carefully latched the door shut. “I don’t think we could wedge one more thing in there. That mountain sheep was enormous.”

  “God’s provided well.”

  “You’re right.” Merry smiled at Ian. He’d gone out hunting and returned with enough meat to get them through much of the winter, yet he didn’t boast. “But there’s no reason we can’t credit that the Lord used you to supply for our needs.”

  “Hold on a second. Tucker’s the one who brought in all the fish.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Nope. I caught the trout and Dolly Varden, but the salmon—that’s your doing. Kauffey must have come here a dozen times to trade for the greens from that garden of yours.”

  “ ’ Tis our garden.” Ian’s brows scrunched into a stern line. “Merry’s labored in it every bit as much as I have. And though Kauffey caught the salmon, Tucker, you sent him here to barter.”

  Merry wanted to hug Ian for how he’d turned the conversation. Instead of boasting about his hunting acumen and all of his success, he’d emphasized Tucker’s contributions. Tucker already struggled with feeling indebted. The last thing he needed was to face that same burden in his own home.

  “With Merry preserving jars and crocks of everything she gets her hands on, we’ll be eating like royalty all winter long.”

  “He’s right, Sis. You’ve gathered at least five times as many berries this year, too.”

  “We missed strawberry season entirely. Now that we know they can grow up here, I’d love to plant some next year.”

  Tucker shook his head.

  They’re probably too expensive. I shouldn’t have said anything.

  “Without Bess, Ian won’t be able to plow the land. This year’s garden was great, but you can’t count on it again next year.”

  “Ah, but we will.” Ian smiled. “I came to an agreement with Wily. He gets my mule for the cold season; I get her for the warm. If you’re of a mind to be farmers with me again next year, I’d be pleased to continue the partnership.”

  Merry’s heart sang at the promise of another season of working side by side in the field with Ian. They’d had wonderful discussions and lively debates and had shared concerns while in the garden. Maybe next year, he’ll feel settled and ready to take a wife.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have Bess drag down more wood for the winter.”

  “I’m happy to help you down a few trees.”

  “Wait!” Merry backed up. “Don’t you dare start haggling and making another deal. At least not in front of me.”

  The men exchanged a baffled look.

  “The way the two of you wrangle, it’s a marvel someone’s firstborn child isn’t already named.”

  Eyes twinkling, Ian turned to Tucker. “Now there’s a fine notion!”

  “Something biblical,” Tucker mused. “I always liked Amminadab. That, or Ahaseurus.”

  “Methuselah’s got a nice ring to it.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  Tucker crooked a brow. “Give me a couple of good reasons why not.”

  Feeling a tad sassy, she proclaimed, “Since we don’t have the Old Testament, you wouldn’t spell it right.”

  “That’s not a problem.” Ian stood beside Tucker and smiled like a rascal. “We already have an agreement. You’re welcome to borrow my Bible anytime. What kind of man would I be if I went back on my word?”

  “Sorry, Sis. You need a better reason.”

  “All right, I’ll give you a great one. Because that poor, defenseless child never did anything to deserve such a terrible fate!”

  Ian turned to Tucker. “Don’t you think naming a child something like Jehosephat would help him develop character?”

  Meredith burst out laughing. “Any son either of you have will already be a character if he takes after you.”

  “Sis has a point.”

  “Fine.” Ian shrugged. “Then we’ll just leave the boys out of the bargain and go for a daughter’s name.”

  Thirteen

  “That’s all mine?” Ian stared in disbelief at the packages, crates, and tins.

  “Yup.” Socks readjusted his cap. “I need it outta here. Came in three days ago, and I’m already tired of chasing folks away from it. You got stuff there I can’t get in. It’s makin’ my mercantile look bad.”

  The weather had changed. Ian knew Bess belonged with Wily now. Even with careful packing, she wouldn’t be able to carry everything—and Ian didn’t want to risk taking her back only to have her freeze or starve because be couldn’t get her back to Goose Chase.

  Wily leaned against the counter. “By the time January or February comes around, Rafferty, you’ll be glad to have all that stuff.”

  “Probably.” Ian stared at the goods his family had sent. He knew they’d really stretched the budget and been incredibly generous. Still, gratitude warred with practicality. He didn’t know how he’d get everything to his cabin, and even if he did, he didn’t have room in the cabin for all of it. Suddenly, Merry and Tucker’s careful and lean planning made a lot more sense.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help you out.” Wily hefted a crate. “It’s the least I can do.”

  It took a lot of consideration and careful balancing, but they managed to load everything into Wily’s umiak. “I appreciate this.” Ian got aboard and took up a paddle.

  Wily settled in, and someone pushed them off. “I reckoned this is as good an excuse as any for me to get a morning of fishing. Probably won’t catch anything other than the ague, but you won’t hear me complain if I do. I’ve spent every waking moment of the past three weeks making deliveries. I’ll just be glad to have folks leave me be.”

  It took a lot of effort to row the heavily laden vessel upriver. When they finally reached his claim, Tucker met them at
the riverbank. He took a rope and secured the umiak.

  “Welcome back.” Merry pulled a shawl about her shoulders. “Hello, Wily. How nice to see you, too. I have coffee ready.”

  Ian didn’t want to blink. He’d been gone from Meredith for less than a day, and it felt as if it had been forever. He looked into the sparkling depths of her hazel eyes and knew if that was the only gold he ever found, he’d be the richest man on earth.

  “Lookit all that.” Abrams traipsed across the bridge.

  “Don’t bother to ask,” Wily snapped. “I didn’t bring any spirits.”

  “I wasn’t talkin’ to you, you old coot. Ian, got anything there for me?”

  “Rafferty’s an honorable man. He wouldn’t transport whiskey or beer on my umiak.”

  Ian drew an envelope from his shirt pocket so he could stop the quarrel. “Socks gave me a letter for you.”

  “It must be from Violet.” Merry tucked her hand into the crook of Abrams’s arm once he claimed the missive. “I’d love to hear how she’s doing.”

  As they walked off, Wily murmured, “He can’t read a lick. Marks an X for his signature. Meredith’s got such a kind heart, she covers for him.”

  “Yeah, well, he’ll wrangle his way into staying for supper now.” Tucker grimaced. “Not only will he drink the entire pot of coffee she has going, he’ll bug me until I make another pot after supper.”

  “If he didn’t, I would.” Wily shoved a burlap bag into Tucker’s hands. “Make yourself useful.”

  Tucker didn’t move. “Rafferty, if there are any bottles in here, I get them. I’m going to put a window in for my sister. Never paid any mind to the color, size, or shape of them ’til now. The blue and the green ones are scarce as hen’s teeth. Meredith hasn’t said anything, but I know she has her heart set on a pretty window like yours.”

  “I have absolutely no idea what is in all of this. Once we get inside my cabin, I’ll take stock.”

  Wily barged into Ian’s cabin and stopped. “When did you do this?”

  “The partition? About a month after the roof went up.”

  “Doesn’t make sense.” Wily set down his load. “Why’s your bed here with the kitchen stuff instead of in the other room?”