AFTER THREE WEEKS in the cramped quarters of her sister’s home, Karen was more than ready to negotiate with anyone who had a boat in order to get out of Seattle. The town itself was an absolute madhouse, but sharing space with five rowdy nieces and nephews, as well as a disgruntled sister and brother-in-law, made for an even more unsettling scene.
Willamina, nearly ten years Karen’s senior, was not at all pleased to learn of her baby sister’s desire to go north. Especially in light of the current run for gold.
‘‘Father would never want to see you subjected to such people as you will find on your trip to Skagway. Such hoodlums and scalawags are not to be equaled. Why, just trying to go to the general store down the street here is like being thrust into a war zone,’’ Willamina had declared. She had droned on for hours, suggesting that the sensible thing to do was for Karen and Aunt Doris to take Grace and go back to their home.
But Karen couldn’t go back. Even if Grace relented to her father’s wishes and Aunt Doris grew too weary, Karen couldn’t go back. With each passing day she longed for her father’s company—longed, too, for a place she’d never before set eyes on. She had reread the letters that had been sent to her prior to her mother’s death. How she missed her mother! Each letter was like a precious gem, rich with a wealth of information and tender affirmations.
Now, as Karen waited with Grace and Doris in the outer suite of some sea captain’s room, she longed only for a quiet fire and solitude in which to read her letters once again. Instead, she found herself fashionably dressed in her navy walking suit with a straw and cloth bonnet she had never cared for, waiting on a man who seemed to have no idea of the time. Reaching up her hand, she wondered if she looked as misplaced as she felt.
The door to the adjoining room opened to reveal a girl with dark hair and eyes. Her dress was of a well-worn red gingham that came about four inches higher than fashion dictated. No doubt the child had grown some in height, but given their look of poverty, they probably couldn’t afford to remedy the situation.
Behind her stood a boy probably somewhere in his middle teen years. With a wild tousle of golden brown hair, he stared at Karen with eyes that seemed hollow and lost. His dirty white cambric shirt was tucked into equally dirty jeans, and his boots sported a hole from leather so dried and marred that Karen wondered that he could even walk in them.
The girl stumbled as she reached the door, and Karen watched as the boy gently took hold of her to keep her from falling. The girl looked up at him with a gaze of adoration and appreciation. He patted her shoulder as if to set her back on her way but said nothing. They didn’t look much alike, but the obvious protective nature of the boy for the girl led Karen to believe them to be siblings.
Turning back, Karen watched as two men shook hands. The bearded, dark-headed man, dressed little better than the boy, quickly joined his children.
‘‘Let’s go. We’ll have to hurry to get everything we need for the trip,’’ he told them.
Karen only realized she was staring when the man turned to her and nodded in a brief, almost matter-of-fact manner. She returned the nod, then dismissing any further contact, quickly turned her attention to the other man. He stood at least six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a lean waist. He had attired himself rather casually for a man of business. Truth be told, he was nearly underdressed for any occasion, yet where the other man and his children had been shoddy, he could be better described as careless in his fashion. His simple white shirt, sporting the newly popular turned-down collar, was unbuttoned at the neck to reveal just a hint of tawny gold chest hair. It was positively scandalous. His navy slacks were tucked into black knee boots and an unbuttoned vest of matching navy serge hung open as if to suggest the man had been disrupted in his morning toiletries.
‘‘I’m Captain Peter Colton,’’ the man boomed out the words authoritatively. ‘‘And you are?’’ He spoke particularly to Doris, much to Karen’s relief. She had no desire to focus any more attention on this man than absolutely necessary.
‘‘I’m Miss Pierce. My nephew by marriage arranged passage for us several weeks ago. I believe he told you we’d be coming by.’’
Colton nodded. ‘‘Come and join me.’’ He looked past Doris to Karen and then to Grace. His attention lingered on Grace. ‘‘Are these your daughters?’’
‘‘Mercy, no,’’ the woman replied. ‘‘I told you I am Miss Pierce. I am unmarried. This is my niece Miss Karen Pierce and her friend Miss Hawkins.’’
The captain frowned. ‘‘Where are your menfolk? Why are they not here? I thought you were to be accompanied by the gentleman who arranged this passage.’’
‘‘No, my nephew merely booked passage for us in our absence. We had heard it was nearly impossible to arrange transportation to Skagway and wired ahead that he might secure us a position.’’
The captain sighed. ‘‘I’m not used to dealing with women and would prefer to talk to someone in authority over you.’’
Karen found his attitude unacceptable. ‘‘My father is already in Skagway, Captain, but at my age I’m quite used to fending for myself. My suggestion is that we find some middle ground on which we can deal respectably with one another. We are neither addlepated nor incapable of caring for our own affairs. My aunt and I have attended and graduated from one of the finest women’s colleges in the country, and I feel confident we can fully understand and comprehend any contractual arrangements you wish to discuss.’’
Colton studied Karen for a moment, causing her to blush when his gaze traveled the full length of her and returned to settle on her face. ‘‘I can see you’ll be nothing but trouble.’’
‘‘How dare you!’’ Karen declared. ‘‘You are most insufferable.’’
‘‘As are you,’’ he countered under his breath.
Karen’s eyes widened at this, but it was Doris who sought to intercede and smooth things over. ‘‘Captain, we are all a bit testy and tired. We have been traveling now for some time and at present do not have calming accommodations.’’
He smiled. ‘‘I seriously doubt there are calming accommodations in Seattle.’’ Just as quickly as the smile had appeared, it disappeared and he continued. ‘‘I know there are many women joining the throngs headed north, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with having you aboard my ship. You are unescorted and a danger.’’
Karen opened her mouth to protest, but Doris again moved to settle the situation. ‘‘I assure you, Captain, we are quite capable as God has made us so in the absence of reliable men. We will not be a bother or trouble you overmuch. We only ask for a room and meals, and we’re willing to pay handsomely.’’
Karen watched as the sea captain rubbed a hand across his clean-shaven chin and cast another quick glance at the silent figure of Grace. ‘‘And what of you, miss? Have you a comment to make on your behalf?’’
Grace smiled. ‘‘I am certain you are a reasonable man, Captain Colton. We are reasonable women. There must surely be a meeting of our minds somewhere within the confines of this predicament.’’
He smiled as if amused by her gentle spirit. Karen wanted to slap the smug expression off his face and demand that he give them passage. She was tired and grumpy, just as Aunt Doris had proposed, but the last thing she wanted to do was watch some seafaring oaf with a mean temper make moon eyes at her young friend. Feeling rather protective, Karen moved to position herself between Colton and Grace. She heard the captain’s man arguing in the hallway with hopeful passengers. Realizing that she would have to soften her approach, Karen drew a deep breath and prayed for strength.
‘‘So might we be allowed to continue our journey, Captain?’’ she forced herself to question in a calm and collected manner.
‘‘I don’t like the idea of taking unescorted women north, unless of course they are women who thrive on the arrangement of being unaccompanied for the purpose of their manner of employment. You aren’t one of them, are you?’’ he questioned, giving Karen a look that provoked her spirit to anger.
Holding her temper, Karen replied, ‘‘You know very well we are not of that working class. We are only asking to take our place using the passage we have booked and paid for. We are not asking for you to be responsible for us.’’
‘‘I am responsible for anything and anyone who boards and travels upon my ship,’’ Colton replied. ‘‘And I do not like to take on unescorted women.’’ He held up his hand as Karen opened her mouth to comment. ‘‘However,’’ Colton continued, ‘‘since you are making your way to your father and will have the benefit of male protection once you have reached Skagway, I am more inclined to allow you to accompany us.’’
How very gracious of you, Karen thought sarcastically. She hated this man’s condescending tone. Here it was, nearly the twentieth century, and he was acting as though they hadn’t a brain or lick of sense among the three of them. She nearly smiled at the thought. Maybe they did lack sense. After all, here they were on the run from a powerful man who would no doubt strike out in some form of pursuit. Karen wasn’t foolish enough to believe for a single moment that Martin Paxton would just leave off with his demands after finding out that Grace was gone. No, he’d follow them or at least break himself trying.
Then, too, there was the entire issue of having no idea whether or not her father was still alive. And if Wilmont Pierce was still alive—where could he be found?
‘‘I’ll take you. I have a single cabin left,’’ Captain Colton said, motioning the women to his table in the inner room.
All three followed, rather stunned by his announcement. Karen watched him closely. He was a very strange man indeed.
‘‘You will have to share this cabin and do the best you can. There are two bunks with four beds available. Should I acquire another female passenger, I will be obliged to give her passage and the remaining bed. Take it or leave it.’’ He looked at them hard as if to gauge their acceptance of this arrangement.
‘‘We’ll take it, of course, Captain Colton,’’ Doris announced. ‘‘And should there be a need to share our cabin, we will do so quite willingly. I assure you, we’ll be no trouble at all.’’
Peter Colton looked at all three women, then fixed his gaze on Karen. ‘‘I would not deem to call you a liar, miss, but in this case I will reserve judgment on the matter until time has proved the truth one way or the other.’’
Karen lifted her chin defiantly and narrowed her eyes. A thousand retorts ran through her mind, but she remained stiff and silent. There was no way this rogue was going to get the better of her.
———
Concluding his dealings with the three women, Peter announced that he would take no further appointments until after lunch. He closed the door of his suite and stretched out in utter exhaustion. What a day it had been!
He thought back to the trio of women and chuckled in spite of himself. There before him had been his complete summary of women. The younger dark-headed woman with her mild spirit and gentle manner. The older spinster with her no-nonsense approach and logical reasoning. No doubt she could take care of herself as well as any man could. Then there was the other woman. Miss Karen Pierce. Her spirit defied definition. Peter frowned. She was everything he had come to despise in women of the age. Self-assured, combative, and temperamental, Miss Pierce was the epitome of the modern women’s movement. No doubt she had never married, and without explanation Peter was certain she had contentedly made that choice based on her own self-sufficiency and determination to prove herself. Not that he was generally so judgmental, but frankly, the woman screamed such declarations in her very mannerisms.
But he had to admit she was beautiful. What little he could see of her light reddish-gold hair struck him as appealing. Her eyes, blue as the sea on a clear day, blazed with a passion for life that promised some excitement for those who beheld them. They were so very different from the large brown eyes of Miss Hawkins. Those eyes reminded him of a frightened doe—so big with wonder and curiosity. She comported herself as a proper woman should. Her silent reverence and gentle manner were an attraction to Peter. He couldn’t help but wonder at her age and her people. Why was she here? The Pierce women were heading north to family, but not so Miss Hawkins.
He pondered the matter for several minutes, then smiled. Perhaps he would have a moment to find out on their journey north. Perhaps he could get to know Miss Hawkins better and see whether her actions were genuine.
Peter picked up the log where he’d just registered his newest passengers. Pointing his finger to the place where Miss Hawkins had signed, he found all the information he was looking for. Her name was Grace. A perfectly suitable name for such a lovely woman. And she was twenty years old. A perfectly suitable age for a twenty-six-year-old sea captain.
The thought rather startled Peter. He’d given no serious thought to women in some time. After all, the business had been in trouble and he had had nothing of his own to offer a wife. Grace’s lovely image suddenly caused him to rethink his circumstances, and that was most frightening. Shaking off the thoughts, Peter was determined to think on the woman no more. At least that was his intention.