Authors: Tracie Peterson
“I have to have help,” Leah declared. “My friend is having a baby. She’s all alone.”
“Women been doing that for years, sweetie,” the older woman told her. “Just grab yourself a pair of scissors and a ball of string. Boil some water for cleaning up afterwards and warm some blankets by the stove. Nature will do the rest.”
Leah felt her stomach lurch. “But what if there are problems?”
The woman shrugged. “Honey, I can’t help you there. Get her to the hospital or get yourself another midwife.” She closed the door, leaving Leah to stand alone.
Leah thought of Grace all alone and knew she couldn’t leave her without someone to help. Still, she didn’t know what to do.
Karen will know
, Leah thought.
Karen will know exactly what to do
.
Leah turned in the direction of the Sourdough Cafeé. She pulled her coat tighter and hugged the lamp as close as she could. She knew it was risky to take the shortcut behind the saloon, but time was of the essence. She picked up her pace, feeling the hair on the back of her neck begin to prickle. She saw things in the shadows. Her breath came in strained pants as she pressed toward the street.
Coming out onto the main thoroughfare, Leah slowed her steps and her breathing.
I’m being such a goose
, she thought.
I’m scared of my own shadow
.
At the Sourdough, things only worsened. Karen had gone off with the owner’s wife and daughter to retrieve several crates of dried fruit. The man who told her this had no idea how long she would be.
“Please tell her she’s needed at home,” Leah said, realizing she had to get back to the tent. Grace might very well be giving birth any moment.
“I’ll tell her, but she’s needed here, too,” the man replied gruffly.
“Yes, but her friend is having a baby. That must be more important than cooking.”
The man grunted something unintelligible and continued sweeping the wood floor. Exasperated from her lack of success, Leah bolstered her courage and headed back to the tent. She had just rounded the corner of the Klondike Gold Saloon when she tripped and fell face first to the ground.
Though she had somehow managed to keep the lantern from breaking, Leah wasn’t entirely sure the same could be said for herself. She felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of her. Easing up on her hands, Leah could barely stifle a scream. The rock she had presumed she had tripped over was no rock at all, but rather the extended leg of a man—a man who appeared to be dead.
Leah picked herself up and pulled the lamp close. She gasped at the ghostly figure. “Crispin!”
She placed the lantern down beside him and reached up with her gloved hands to pat his frozen face. “Oh, Crispin, please be alive.”
The man opened his eyes ever so slowly. A grin spread across his face. “I know you.”
His breath reeked of whiskey. Leah frowned. He wasn’t dead, but he was drunk. “Crispin, you’ll die if you stay here. Come with me. I need you.”
He blinked hard several times, then struggled to get to his feet. Leah helped him stand, forgetting her fall and the pain it had caused. “Crispin, Grace is having her baby, and I can’t find anyone to come and help me.”
“I can’t help you. I have never done … that … sort of thing.” His speech was slurred, and he began to weave back and forth on his feet.
Leah wasn’t entirely sure she could sober him up or get him to understand the seriousness of the situation, but for the moment he was all she had. “Come on, Crispin. I can make you some strong coffee back at our tent. We’re just across the river and up the path a ways.”
Crispin seemed to forget her mention of the baby and put an arm around Leah’s shoulder. “Are you having a party? I could use a drink.”
“Yes,” Leah said, pulling him toward the bridge. “I’m having a party.”
How she ever managed to get back to the tent was a miracle to Leah Barringer. She struggled against the everincreasing snow, and as the wind picked up to howl a blizzard in their path, Leah found herself half carrying the drunken man.
She almost expected to find Grace dead upon her return. She’d been able to push aside the images of her mother only by focusing on the task to retrieve the midwife. But now those images came back in a rush. She could see it all as if it were only yesterday. How very pale her mother had been just before closing her eyes in death.
Leah felt tears come to her eyes. It made a painful prickling as the wind crusted the liquid to ice. Fighting to control her emotions, Leah knew a tremendous amount of relief when she reached the tent.
“Come on, Crispin, let’s get you inside.”
“For the party?” he questioned.
“Yes.”
Inside, Leah found Grace still very much alive. “Where’s the midwife?” she asked as she realized the stranger standing next to Leah was no woman.
“She’s taken sick and may not even live,” Leah answered. “I found Crispin on the street and brought him back with me.” She looked at the staggering man and then returned her gaze to Grace’s worried expression. “I’m hoping he can be of help.”
“He looks to be drunk.”
“He is,” Leah admitted. “But I hope to fix that with some food and strong coffee.”
“We need someone to help,” Grace said nervously. “I don’t know how much time we have before the baby will come.”
“I know. I went to the Sourdough to find Karen, but she wasn’t there. She’d gone with the owner’s wife to get something. I told them to send her home as soon as she got back.”
Grace nodded and seemed to relax a bit. “That’s good. Karen will know what to do.”
“That’s how I had it figured.”
Leah worked over the stove to fix a pot of coffee. She noticed that Crispin hardly seemed to care that there was no real party. He had plopped down at the table and was now asleep.
When the coffee was ready, Leah brought a steaming mug to Crispin, along with a hunk of bread. “Crispin, wake up. I have something for you to eat.”
He didn’t rally and for a moment Leah again feared he had died.
“Crispin!”
He moaned and struggled to raise his head. “Why are you yelling at me? Why did you bring me here? There’s no party.”
Leah sat the cup down rather hard, sloshing some of the contents onto the table. “I brought you here to help me. You have to sober up now. Grace is going to have a baby, and Karen isn’t here to help me.” The wind howled loudly, shaking the tent and causing Leah to fear for the first time that Karen might well be stuck in town until the worst of the blizzard passed.
Blinking back tears, Leah tried to compose herself. She didn’t vocalize her fears, but a quick glance to where Grace lay writhing in pain told her she didn’t have to. Who was she fooling by trying to appear ever so strong and controlled? Grace knew very well how serious the situation was, and Crispin was too drunk to care.
With all the strength of her thirteen and a half years, Leah reached her hand into the black curls of Crispin’s hair and yanked his head up and back. “You listen to me, Crispin Thibault. I need you, and I need you sober. You drink this coffee and eat what I give you, and I don’t want to hear any kind of protest. Understand?”
He looked at her oddly for a moment, then smiled. “I believe I do.”
“Good,” she said, letting go her hold. “I’ll bring you more coffee after you’ve finished this cup.”
Grace screamed out against the pain. Leah’s blood chilled her veins. A dull ache started somewhere at the base of her neck and edged its way up her head. She thought of her mother—saw her lying pale, almost colorless against the white sheet of her bed.
Leaving her memories behind, Leah picked up the coffee pot and slammed it down in front of Crispin. “You’d better drink fast.”
MIRANDA SAW HER first glimpse of Dawson amidst a heavy snow. Buried under a mound of covers, she stayed warm enough in the lead sled, while Teddy rode in the sled behind her. The town looked surprisingly big. Miranda wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected of Dawson, but after months in the wilderness, any collection of buildings and people seemed like heaven.
Sitting a little straighter, Miranda realized she had no idea what she should do. She didn’t know where her friends might have gone. She had no idea if they had even made it this far. Frowning to herself, Miranda watched the rhythmic movement of the sled dogs. They seemed to pull the weight so easily. At first Miranda had felt sorry for them, but watching them work, she realized the dogs seemed to enjoy their task. Teddy had told her they were born and bred for this work, but until she’d witnessed it firsthand, Miranda had doubted the truth of that.
Little Charley brought the dogs to a halt in front of the Dawson Lucky Day Hotel. Miranda pushed back the blankets and struggled to climb out of the sled basket, but Little Charley quickly reached down and lifted her up without a word. After placing her on the boardwalk outside the hotel, he turned to unload the rest of the sled.
“Thank you,” Miranda said, turning to see where Teddy might be. The falling snow seemed to lighten a bit, but the entire town was covered in a fresh blanket of white. Teddy stood a few feet away, surveying the town as if looking for something in particular.
“What is it?” she asked coming up beside him. “Is something wrong?”
Teddy looked over and smiled. “Not at all. I was merely reacquainting myself with this soiled dove.”
“Why do you call Dawson that?”
“Because that’s what she is. She was once pure and unspoiled, and now every man who can make his way north has come to use and abuse her. She looks good in snow, however. Almost clean again.”
Miranda had no way of knowing whether this was true or not. “I suppose I can understand. Look, Mr. Davenport, I have no idea what I should do.” She hoped he might have some suggestions. “I don’t know how to find my friends.”
“I can well understand your concerns. My suggestion would be that once we’ve checked into the hotel, you might make your way to the claim registrar’s office. It’s my understanding that everyone who seeks gold must secure their claim with the local authorities.”
Miranda barely heard his words. She was still contemplating his statement about checking into the hotel. “I have no money. I can’t very well check into the hotel. If I could find my friends right away, I could stay with them.”
“The wind is picking up and the temperatures are dropping. It’s hardly the right time for a search. Just come along with me and I’ll see you receive a room. I know the management here, it won’t be a problem.” He smiled pleasantly, but it did nothing to ease her concern.
“But I can’t pay for it,” Miranda protested. “A place like this is no doubt expensive. Everything up here has been far more costly.” She looked to the etched-glass doors of the hotel. “I’m sure they’ll want the money up front. Besides, they might not even have room.”
“It’s not a problem, I assure you. I stay here every winter. I have an adjoining room where I usually set up my workroom. If the hotel is booked up, I can simply arrange my things in my room and you can stay as long as you need.”
Miranda felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For all her anger and frustration with the seemingly indifferent Mr. Davenport, she realized he wasn’t without mercy. “It would only be until I could find out what happened to my friends.”
“Of course. Let’s get inside.” Teddy hardly seemed to concern himself with the matter. He turned away to direct Little Charley and the other man. “Bring my things into the lobby. I’ll direct you from there.”
Miranda followed the men inside, anxious to begin the business of locating her friends. A warm waft of air touched her cheeks as she crossed the threshold.
Oh, to be warm again
, she thought, sighing. She moved across the marble entry floor to a large, inviting fireplace. A heavy oak mantel framed a hearth trimmed in Delft tiles of blue and white. Miranda pulled off heavy fur mittens and held her hands out to the flames. She glanced behind her where she heard Teddy instructing the hotel clerk to bring them supper.
Miranda’s stomach rumbled loudly. It’d been a long time since they’d shared their cold lunch of jerky and biscuits on the trail. Teddy motioned toward the stairs and Little Charley nodded and began to ascend with one of Teddy’s heavy crates. The other man picked up another crate, while Teddy took up a third.
“Miss Colton, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
Miranda came alongside without a second thought. “I know it’s dark, but I thought perhaps I should go check the recorder’s office. What do you think?”
“I think you should eat a hearty meal and rest for the evening. Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin your search. If they’re here, they aren’t going anywhere tonight.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Miranda climbed the carpeted stairs, gently touching the polished wood banister. The hotel was more beautiful than she could have imagined. How in the world had such elegance come so far north? She marveled at the plush opulence. It was as if someone had taken the finest hotel in San Francisco and transplanted it to Dawson.
Mr. Davenport and his men seemed to take it all in stride. Apparently they’d seen the hotel many times before and the effect had worn off. Of course, she reasoned, Mr. Davenport had come from a well-to-do English family. He’d told her briefly of stately gardens where he’d learned a love of vegetation. It was really all she knew of Teddy Davenport. Funny how a person could share such close quarters with someone for months and still not know anything about them.
Reluctantly, Miranda pulled her skirt up a bit and continued her climb. Her legs felt leaden. She had lost so much of her strength by having nothing to do but sit around the cabin with Mr. Davenport. Teddy, on the other hand, hoisted the crate as though he worked days at the freight dock. His strength came as a surprise to Miranda, who had thought him a dandy at worst and a gentleman of leisure at best.
Yawning, she kept a silent vigil behind the men. In the morning she would have to get a telegram off to her parents. She worried that they had been notified of the accident. She’d been practically frantic over the thought of their suffering such news. She’d labored with images of her mother for weeks. When she closed her eyes at night, she could almost see her mother wandering around the house, crying in her grief. Miranda had to let them know she was alive and well.