Gold Dust (4 page)

With a mocking salute, the boy was gone. Jonah saw the sparkle of amusement in Myrna’s eyes as she looked on from behind the
bar. He shook his head, wondering if he’d just made a big mistake.

The world was still dark when Katy kicked Hunter off her legs, rolled out of her bed, and lit the lamp. The gray wolf gave
her a scathing look and yawned a toothy objection.

“Proper wolves spend the night hunting and howling at the moon, not curled up on a bed sleeping.”

The wolf jumped back on the bed, curled into a compact circle of thick fur, buried his nose beneath his tail, and regarded
her balefully.

“You’re no proper wolf, that’s for sure.” Katy knuckled the plush fur between his ears. “And I’m sure you don’t care.”

Katy herself yielded to a great, gaping yawn. Dawn was still an hour away, but she hadn’t been able to sleep all night for
thinking of the fine adventure that lay before her. How things had changed since yesterday, when her life had seemed so useless
and dull! Olivia had always told her that things generally looked darkest right before the dawn. Katy had thought her stepma
was spouting platitudes, but in this case Olivia had been telling the truth.

The day before, Katy had been dejected about her life. She’d let the mustang stallion slip through her fingers; she wasn’t
needed on the ranch; she missed her family; and she was smotheringly, overwhelmingly bored. Now, however, a new day had dawned.
Frustration, boredom, and uncertainties about her future sloughed off as easily as old skin slipped off a snake, revealing
a bright new Katy beneath. Now someone needed her for her own unique skills. Now she had the chance to prove she could make
it on her own, without her pa. As much as she loved her pa and her stepma, the time, had come for her to be her own person.

Katy dressed carefully. Yesterday, because she was mad at the world, she had let herself slip back into the boyish guise of
her younger years. She was still more comfortable in trousers, shirt, and boots than in a dress, but she did know how to dress
and speak like a lady. Olivia had taken great pains and exercised great patience to teach her. She slipped into bloomers,
chemise, a voluminous skirt that would allow her to ride astride into town, a simple shirtwaist, and a tailored jacket. Examining
herself in the mirror with a critical eye, she wondered how Jonah Armstrong would react when he saw her. Twelve years old
indeed! She was a woman grown, and a passable looking one at that when she took the
trouble to get gussied up. Green eyes, the Irish green she’d inherited from her father, twinkled back at her from the mirror.
Smooth olive skin and high cheekbones were the gift of her Blackfoot mother. Thick black hair tumbled to her narrow waist
in tangled waves.

She threw back her shoulders and admired the bosom that had finally come in when she was fifteen. It was small, but it was
definitely there. When she was younger, Katy had thought she was going to be flat as a boy for the rest of her life. Up until
today, she had almost regretted that her womanly assets had bloomed, but now she wondered if the greenhorn would think she
was attractive. Men had been ogling her twin sister Ellen for the past six years, and supposedly she and Ellen looked very
much alike. Of course, no man in his right mind would ogle Katy. If one had, she would have decked him.

Thinking of the greenhorn made Katy smile. Lucky for the poor fellow that he’d bumped into her. He had no notion what he was
about going to the Klondike with his city-bred ignorance. There would be more like him on the trail, she guessed, and the
tenderfeet would only make it more dangerous for the rest of them. Mr. Armstrong would get through to the goldfields, though,
because he had Katy O’Connell helping him. Lucky for him he wasn’t the sort of man who refused to accept help from a woman.

When Katy doused the lamp, took the small valise she had packed, and stumbled her way from her bedroom into the kitchen, Hunter
followed. He sat beside her when she propped the note for her parents against the flower arrangement on the dining room table.
He pressed against her legs when she cut herself slabs of bread and cheese in the dark kitchen and headed out the door toward
the corral and barn. Her gelding, Little Brown, whuffed loudly when Katy opened the corral gate and Hunter followed her in.

“Ssssh!” Katy hissed at the gelding. “You want old Jenkins to know we’re taking off?”

The gelding rolled an eye at her as she lifted the saddle to his back.

“Don’t worry, you old plowhorse. You’re only going as far as Willow Bend. I left a note for Jenkins to pick you up at the
livery.”

Hunter joined in the conversation with an unwolflike whine. Katy hunkered down and put her arms around the furry body.

“I’ll miss you, you old wolf!”

Hunter had been her best friend for eight years, ever since her pa and Olivia had rescued him from a cave where the rest of
his litter had been killed by a grizzly bear. Raised with the doting attention of Katy, Ellen, and Olivia, the gray wolf had
developed an unstinting devotion toward his adopted pack. Never once had he cast a longing eye into the wild. He was more
like a devoted dog than a wolf.

Hunter raised a paw and placed it on Katy’s knee.

“Don’t do that!” Katy cried. “You’re just making this harder!”

The wolf gazed at her from woebegone yellow eyes.

“What would you do in the Klondike—a soft and pudgy old wolf like you?”

Probably the same thing that he’d always done—play with the wind, pounce on rabbits and rodents, play tag with her in the
high grass, be her faithful friend.

Katy expelled a huge sigh. “All right. You win, stupid wolf. You can come. We’ll manage it somehow.”

So Hunter was still beside Katy when she tied the valise onto the back of her saddle, mounted Little Brown, and rode off toward
the dawn. A few hundred yards from the barn, she stopped to let her gaze sweep a circle around the valley that was her family’s
land—the Thunder Creek Ranch. In the muted light of predawn, everything seemed too still for life. The cattle were small black
specks dotting the broad gray palette of the valley. The ranch buildings huddled together as if seeking protection from the
vast Montana sky. In the distance rose sharp peaks still wearing caps of white in high
summer. All together the scene looked like a painting—a somber study in grays and browns.

How long would it be before she saw this scene again? Katy wondered. How angry would her pa be when he read the note explaining
why she had to go? How hurt would Olivia feel? Katy shook her head to chase away the doubts. She was doing the right thing.
Jonah Armstrong needed her, and she needed to find a place that was her own. Katy O’Connell wasn’t a person who could live
in someone else’s shadow.

Besides, Katy thought as she turned Little Brown and headed away from her home, ranching was dull, and Montana had become
much too tame.

Jonah slid up the window beside his seat to let in more air. Already the car was stifling, and the morning was scarcely begun.
The noise from the railroad platform flowed in a dissonant crescendo through the open window. The train was almost full, and
there were people on the platform who still had to board. A motley crowd it was. Business suits to buckskins and everything
in between. Young and old, fat, tall, skinny, short—they were all headed for Puget Sound and a steamer to take them north
to their dream of riches. How many of them would get there? he wondered. And of those who reached the goldfields on the Klondike,
how many would strike it rich? A large battleship of a woman followed by two younger versions of herself sailed down the aisle
and crowded into one of the few vacant seats in the car. Surely they couldn’t be headed for the Klondike! Such a place was
certainly no place for females.

Jonah searched through his pocket for the ever-present pencil and notepad. He scrawled a few key words that would recall the
color and restlessness of the crowd when he had the time to write in more length. Once the train moved there would be no more
taking notes—he’d tried years ago to write on a railcar. Deciphering his jerky scrawl had been impossible.

A large man smelling of stale sweat and cigar smoke started to sit in the seat beside him.

“Sorry,” Jonah told him. “This seat’s taken.”

The man gave him a scowl but moved on. If his urchin guide didn’t show up soon, Jonah was going to be lynched by the half
dozen people he’d denied the seat. He wondered if the boy was going to come. Maybe the kid had been all show and no substance.
He hadn’t impressed Jonah that way, and Jonah considered himself a shrewd judge of character. He smiled, thinking of O’Connell’s
cockiness. He’d probably show up in buckskins and a coonskin cap with scalps dangling from his belt.

“Thank goodness! I thought I was going to miss the train!”

A young woman in a full skirt, tailored jacket, and jaunty flat-brimmed straw hat plopped down next to him. Jonah scarcely
was able to grab his hat from the seat before she crushed it beneath her backside. He opened his mouth to object, but when
the young lady turned her face toward him, he thought better of it. His grubby little guide, if he showed up at all, could
find his own seat on the crowded train. The trip would be much more pleasant sitting next to this young woman. He couldn’t
very well ask the lady to leave. Besides, she was a fetching creature. In fact, when she smiled, as she did just then, with
her green eyes alight and her face beaming pleasure, she was goddamned beautiful.

“How do you do, ma’am.” Jonah flashed her his most charming smile.

The fine black wings of her brows drew together briefly in a little frown. Then she smiled again, to devastating effect. “I
didn’t mean to cut it this fine,” she said. “But I had a time of it.”

The train lurched, gasped, and lurched again. Slowly the car began to move. They were on their way. Jonah glanced around.
There was no sign of young Daniel Boone, unless he had gotten on a different car. All things considered, it was probably for
the best. Jonah didn’t need the responsibility of dragging a half-wild kid to the Klondike, no matter how interesting a character
O’Connell would have been for the
Chicago Record
readers.

“That uppity conductor made me leave my wolf in the baggage
car,” the lady beside him said.”
I
told him Hunter was perfectly harmless. There wouldn’t have been a peep out of him unless he thought someone was making trouble
for me.”

Jonah blinked. Had the girl said she had a wolf? He must have misunderstood her. “That’s too bad,” he commiserated cautiously.

“And before that I had the devil’s own time picking up the ticket from the window. The pile of cow shit that passes for a
ticket agent couldn’t find the ticket.” Her eyes widened and she pressed a small hand to her mouth. “Oops! And here
I
swore I’d talk and act like a lady today. It’s just that I was so riled. Thought I was going to miss the train!”

Jonah was beginning to feel like Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. This conversation was not right. The words coming out
of that most attractive mouth didn’t quite belong with the high-class appearance. Some of them didn’t make sense at all.

She took the pins from her hat and set it in her lap, revealing a shining mass of black braids coiled atop her head. Her face
turned toward his with an expectant smile. “Are you excited, greenhorn?”

A small tinkle of alarm went off in Jonah’s brain.
Did
everyone in this dustball of a town label strangers with the name greenhorn? “Uh… excited?” The lovely young miss sitting
next to him was more than capable of getting him excited, Jonah was sure, but excitement wasn’t precisely what she was inspiring
at the moment.

She cocked her head at his confusion, then grinned impishly. “I’ll bet you thought I wasn’t going to show up, didn’t you?”

The tinkle of alarm grew to a clanging clamor. Jonah stared at the girl. It couldn’t be. He could not have been so flamingly
stupid. Yes he could have. The green eyes sparkled with the same mischief. The flawless skin that had been too smooth for
a boy of twenty looked perfect on a female. Too damned perfect. The high, delicate cheekbones and fine hands had made
his grubby rescuer look effeminate. The same features gave the girl sitting beside him a real claim to beauty.

“Well, I’m here,” she said, “so you don’t need to worry any longer. I’m going to take good care of you.”

Seemingly unaware of Jonah’s horror, Katy chattered on like a little magpie. She hoped he didn’t mind her bringing the wolf
along. He would be a help in hunting, she assured him, and a good camp sentry at night. Though getting him on the steamer
was going to be a problem, she admitted. They should see about getting an outfit in Seattle, for supplies there would no doubt
be cheaper than at the head of the trail in Alaska, though not much. The demand being what it was, the greedy damned—oops!—storekeepers
would take the opportunity to dig into the pockets of those headed for the goldfields. This was going to be a successful trip,
she assured him. He shouldn’t worry. Others might fall beside the way, but as long as he had Katy O’Connell at his side, he
would see the goldfields and get his story.

Jonah felt his head begin to pound. The longer the girl talked, the more plain it became that what he feared was really true.
“You’re a woman,” he said.

Her chatter cut to silence and she threw him a sharp look.

“I’ve hired a
woman
to take me to the Klondike.”

“Good thing for you that you’re not one of those morons who think women can’t do anything but sew and cook. Look at the opportunity
you would have missed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday you were a woman?”

Katy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Most of the gents I’ve met can tell the difference.”

“For pity’s sake! You were wearing trousers and boots and covered with dust!”

“I’d been out chasing wild horses. You expect me to do that in a dress?”

“And that hat! You looked like you’d been sleeping in alleys and eating out of garbage heaps for two weeks!”