PETER ARRIVED IN SKAGWAY a day before the scheduled arrival of his father’s ship. Feeling a deep sense of confusion and frustration over his father’s recent decision to expand his business relationship with Martin Paxton, Peter found himself in a foul mood. He knew his father respected Paxton as a longtime friend, but the idea that another man, a complete stranger to Peter, could come in and so influence his father bothered Peter more than he liked to admit.
Snow lightly blanketed the ground, making a vast improvement on the appearance of the small boomtown, but even this didn’t help to lighten Peter’s heart. He felt overwhelmed with concerns he’d never before considered to be of importance. Not only was his father making choices without seeking Peter’s advice, but Grace Hawkins had made him reevaluate his entire method of dealing with life and his family.
He had never seen himself ruling over his family in a Godlike way, yet given his current feelings, Peter couldn’t help but realize Grace had made a good point. This only served to make matters worse, however. Peter had no desire to see himself as the kind of man Grace had described, and yet he had no desire to relinquish the position of respect and authority his family had delegated to him.
I’m a grown man, he reasoned. Things like this shouldn’t be of such concern. Under other circumstances I would have married and perhaps even produced heirs by now. The thought had crossed his mind on occasion, and now with Grace in his life, it cornered his thoughts on more than fleeting moments. Thoughts of Grace had rapidly infiltrated his daily existence.
But if he married, what would become of his family? His father had little practical sense when it came to business. Never mind that the man had managed his shipping line for longer than Peter had been alive. After all, Colton Shipping had aspired to be nothing more than a local freighting line before Peter became old enough to push for further development. Peter had helped the company expand—to reach its fullest potential. What would happen if he bowed out now?
‘‘Martin Paxton would happen,’’ he muttered. He didn’t even know the man, and already he felt a sense of competition with him. All of his life Peter had heard Martin and Martin’s mother spoken of in a way that devoted a familylike closeness. Peter’s father practically considered Martin’s mother to be a sister. He didn’t know any real details of their past, only that the family had been friends with his own back East, but apparently Martin Paxton had grown into a man of considerable power and wealth. Perhaps that was what bothered Peter the most. Paxton was successful in Ephraim Colton’s eyes, while Peter was merely the son helping to run a business, which up until recently had been failing. Did his father see him as a failure as well?
‘‘But people will always fail. We are, after all, human,’’ Grace had told him.
The words were still ringing in his ears even now, weeks later. Had his family perceived him to have failed? Had he not met their needs somehow? Perhaps he should broach the subject with his father and ask for the truth.
Peter thought about this long and hard as he hopped a ride on a barge up the inlet to Dyea. His anticipation of seeing Grace again was blended with a sorrow that she could not be the woman he desired her to be. Why couldn’t she be more like Miranda? Miranda adores me, he thought. Miranda would never question me or consider my counsel to be less than the best. Grace thinks me to be overbearing. She believes me to have placed unfair demands on my family.
‘‘You have put yourself in the position to be a god to your family. You ask them to seek you for their counsel and direction,’’ Grace had said.
So what’s wrong with that? Peter questioned silently. He argued the matter internally, knowing that he needed to be able to share his answer with Grace. But logic would not win out. Instead, he again heard the petite woman’s comments.
‘‘I fear your family might suffer far more than they would ever need to suffer if you continue to fight God for first place in their lives.’’
She’s full of religious nonsense, Peter decided. She’s been brought up in such a way that she simply doesn’t understand how men must be in charge to see to their family’s well-being. I’ve not chosen to usurp God—on the contrary. God is in His heaven and I am here. It only stands to reason that God would choose certain emissaries to guide the people of this earth. Surely Grace had not considered that. He smiled to himself. That had to be the answer. She was a very young woman. Perhaps she was simply ignorant of such matters. After all, her mentor was strong in her beliefs of women’s rights, yet Grace’s father arranged his daughter’s marriage and future. In her simplistic manner, Grace was most likely confused by such contrasts. The thought comforted Peter and gave him new ideas for how to handle future discussions.
A fine, icy rain began to pelt Peter, stinging his face. Grateful for his heavy wool coat, he snugged down his cap and wrapped a woolen scarf around his face. A bitter wind blew from the northern snow-capped mountains. He pitied those who were probably even now trekking their way up and over the extensive passes. And all for the hope of seeing their first hint of gold. All for that elusive rock. Why was it so hard to see that the real gold was here in Dyea or Skagway? A man could get rich with nothing more than a tent and a stack of goods.
Given this scenario, Peter had foreseen great things for Colton Shipping. Had his father not committed to Martin Paxton’s plans, Peter would have had them completely out of debt in another month. He’d planned to announce the news to his parents when they’d last been together in San Francisco, but that plan had been thwarted when his father delivered the news of his own venture with Paxton.
Again Peter felt the pinch of his father’s decision. What if they no longer needed him? Worse yet, what if Grace was right? What if he had set himself up to be their god? Where did mere mortals go when they were cast from their lofty perches—no longer to serve as elevated deities? The thought haunted him all the way to his destination.
‘‘Well, I must say, you’re a welcomed sight for once.’’
The voice belonged to Karen Pierce, but it was Grace Hawkins who captured Peter’s attention as he entered the tent store.
‘‘Good day to you, ladies.’’
Grace smiled sweetly. ‘‘Good day to you, Captain Colton.’’
Karen pretended to be busy packing blankets into a crate, but Peter could tell she was hardly focused on her work. Both she and Grace wore layers of clothes, along with their coats. Apparently with the traffic that frequented the store, keeping the interior warm was most difficult.
‘‘So I suppose I must ask,’’ Peter said, feeling rather like an animal about to be trapped, ‘‘why is it that you welcome my appearance this day?’’
Karen didn’t even look up from her work. ‘‘We need to make a decision now about moving the store. If you aren’t planning to do so, you may well have to run it on your own because we’re moving.’’
Peter shook his head and looked to Grace for an explanation. It was then that he noticed Grace was also packing items into a crate. She exchanged a glance with Peter before quickly turning her attention back to her task.
‘‘Well, it is very cold,’’ she suggested. ‘‘We manage well enough in the back, but even so, the nights are difficult.’’
Peter nodded. ‘‘But I have a feeling there’s something more to this than the weather. In truth, I had planned to move the store with this visit, but I haven’t yet chosen a site. There is a gentleman in town who has the ability to build up a place overnight. He charges a considerable sum, but he’s quite good and very much in demand.’’
‘‘We know all about him,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘We’ve been after him for weeks, but he’s too busy making outrageous profits to worry over a trio of women who have to live in fear of their lives.’’
‘‘What is she talking about?’’ Peter questioned Grace.
‘‘Karen will have to explain,’’ Grace replied. ‘‘I only saw the aftermath. She’d already shot the man by the time I came to her side.’’
‘‘What!’’ Peter roared the word, not meaning to frighten them. He felt bad when both women jumped at least a foot in the air. His tone brought Leah and Doris running from the back. Doris held a fairly heavy pickax in her hands and looked as though she might even know how to use it.
‘‘It’s all right, Aunt Doris,’’ Karen said, turning to comfort the older woman. ‘‘Captain Colton is just now learning of our trouble the other night. You and Leah go back where it’s warm and we’ll continue explaining. If he yells again, just ignore him.’’
‘‘Oh my,’’ Doris said, not at all interested in heeding her niece. ‘‘Has she told you of our peril?’’
‘‘Grace said Karen shot a man.’’
‘‘She did,’’ Leah threw in, ‘‘but she didn’t kill him. He’s been run clean out of town. They put him on the first ship south.’’
Peter’s head was reeling. ‘‘Why did you shoot the man?’’
Karen finally allowed her gaze to meet his. He noted the stoic manner in which she fixed her expression, but he couldn’t ignore the fear in her eyes.
‘‘I shot him because he wouldn’t leave and he and his friends were threatening us with bodily harm. I’m sure I needn’t go into more detail than that.’’
Peter felt sickened at the thought of what might have happened. Perhaps he should be grateful that these women were cut from a different cloth. Maybe Karen Pierce’s strength and fortitude were a blessing in disguise. ‘‘Well, that’s it,’’ Peter replied. ‘‘You won’t go long without a building. I’ll see to it immediately. I shouldn’t have been so eager to pay old debts. I should have insisted this tent be traded for a building.’’
‘‘Don’t be hard on yourself, Captain,’’ Grace said, coming forward. ‘‘We have enough money to put together a payment for a small place, but no one has had the time. Most of the men have gold fever and little time for constructing homes or businesses. It’s just as Karen said, we would have to pay double or even triple to have their consideration. We thought to have help from a local guide and a Tlingit Indian man, but they’ve both disappeared and we’ve had no word from them in a long while.’’
‘‘Not since he sent word through Mr. Barringer that my father is delayed in a quarantined village.’’
Peter nodded. ‘‘I’m sorry to hear that. But what of Mr. Barringer? What of his son? They both appear to be strong, healthy men. Could they not lend their hand to constructing a building?’’
‘‘Bill Barringer has taken up a job of packing people and their goods up to the summit of Chilkoot Pass. He returns to see us only on occasion,’’ Grace told Peter. ‘‘Jacob has been working off and on in a variety of jobs, but he’s hardly more than a boy.’’
‘‘I was capable of running a ship at his age,’’ Peter retorted, having no patience for weak men. ‘‘Barringer should never have left you unprotected.’’
‘‘We weren’t unprotected,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘The Winchester and I had the matter under control.’’
‘‘But what might have happened if you’d been asleep?’’
‘‘I had tried to go to sleep, but I couldn’t,’’ Karen replied.
‘‘Now I believe God was keeping me awake to ensure our safety.’’
‘‘I don’t see God providing a building for you,’’ Peter retorted.
‘‘Well, He did send you,’’ Grace replied, offering him a smile.
Peter couldn’t accept that answer as valid. ‘‘Think what you will.’’ He looked around the room and shook his head. ‘‘I’ll send some of my men over to help you box this stuff up. One way or another, we’ll move you out. Until then, I’ll post guards if need be.’’
———
Bill reached up to rub his tired shoulders. Stiff and sore, they served to remind him of the journey ahead, as well as the ones he’d already completed. Packing supplies up the long, difficult Dyea trail was no simple task. Day after day he’d found himself pressed to endure impossible terrain and surly-tempered clients. He’d taken to loading his packs heavier each day and now could handle one hundred pounds, same as most of the Tlingit packers on the route up the Chilkoot Pass. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, he was worn out and ready for nothing more than a hot meal and bed.
Winter had set in, and in some ways this made matters much easier to deal with. Now, instead of struggling to muck through oozing mud paths and climb over boulders and fallen trees, the ground had frozen solid and a coating of packed snow allowed for a more productive means of transporting the goods. Even better, the area between the Scales and the summit had been modified and a stairway of ice had been carved out of the mountainside. The hike was still long and arduous but much easier to master. The packers stood in line for what seemed like miles, rope guide in one hand, walking stick in the other, hunched over under the weight of their belongings.
Coming down was much simpler. Most of the packers took to the side of the carved pathway and slid down the mountain on their backsides. Sometimes they were even lucky enough to sit atop a piece of wood or a shingle for the wild ride down. It sure beat hiking down as they had before the snows were plentiful.
The cold weather actually did more to encourage the stampeders and their packers. A person needed to keep moving in the bitter winds, otherwise they could find themselves quickly freezing to death. Bill and two other men had come across a woman and child only a day earlier, half frozen and starving in a snowbank. Neither were dressed for the climate nor the ordeal of mastering the summit. After seeing them to safety, Bill couldn’t help but think of his daughter. He shuddered to think of Leah lying frozen at the side of the road.
The image only increased his resolve to go north on his own. He was ready now. He’d been earning almost forty cents per pound to pack goods and had spent very little until today.
Smiling at the stack of goods he could now call his own, Bill couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. Several men had become discouraged with their dreams of gold and had sold out to Bill. As required by the government of Canada, Bill had enough supplies to see him through a year in the wilderness. There was some fifteen hundred pounds of assorted goods, part of which he’d already packed to the summit on behalf of his client. Now the materials awaiting him atop the pass belonged to him. He had the bill of sale and could prove his ownership.
The idea sent a surge of anticipation and excitement coursing through his body. There would still be more than a dozen trips to make up and down the ice stairway, but that was of no real concern. He could do it. He had already come this far and nothing would stop him. Everything was planned. Everything seemed in order.
Bill tried not to think about his intentions to give sole responsibility of his children’s well-being to Karen Pierce. With Jacob working and Leah helping at the store, they were no doubt earning their own keep. They couldn’t possibly be costing Miss Pierce that much to feed and house. He comforted himself with the reasoning that they were much better off warm and safe in Dyea, no matter who might be helping to care for them.
When I strike it rich, he thought, then I’ll send for them and we’ll be a family again. They’ll understand that I’ve done what is right and best. At least he hoped they would.
He covered the supplies with a tarp and staked it down. His last order of business was to make one final trip down to Dyea. He had to tell Leah and Jacob good-bye, and he had to explain to Karen Pierce what he was doing and why he needed her help. It never really entered his mind until that moment that they might all protest his action and refuse to cooperate. He frowned, trying to imagine what he would do or say should they cause a fuss. Jacob would insist on going north with him, yet there were no supplies for his son. As it was, Bill had teamed up with another group of men and this was allowing for a much easier time. One man had a stove and another the tools. A third man was a walking arsenal, refusing to go north without his beloved ivory-handled pistols, two rifles, and a shotgun. Bill had an entire set of pots, pans, and camp dishes, along with some tools and something more valuable than the others combined—a working knowledge of mining.
No, he’d simply have to explain the situation to Jacob and insist he remain behind to care for Leah and await the time when Bill could send for them.
‘‘Bill, you heading down to Dyea?’’ one of the trio he’d partnered with asked.
‘‘Yeah, heading there now.’’
The man produced a list and a wad of bills. ‘‘See what you can get. I’ve already searched through Sheep Camp and wasn’t able to get much of anything.’’
Bill nodded and pocketed the list with the bills. ‘‘My friends run a store in Dyea. I might have better luck. Keep an eye out for my goods, will you?’’
The man nodded. ‘‘We’ll be packing the whole time you’re gone, may even get a chance to move some of your stuff up as well.’’
Bill hadn’t considered that his team might be delayed by his brief journey to Dyea. ‘‘I could hire a couple of Tlingits to help,’’ he offered.
The man considered the idea for a moment. ‘‘I could see to it. You can pack my goods up from Dyea, and I’ll see to keeping you caught up with the rest of us.’’
‘‘Deal,’’ Bill replied, then without wasting any more time on conversation, he picked up the small sack he’d put together for his hike to Dyea. ‘‘I’d best get a move on.’’
The hours of daylight were lessening considerably as the sun altered its course in winter. Bill found the lack of light a minor inconvenience. Having spent most of his adult life in mines of one sort or another, the darkness had never been an impediment to him. Still, the trails were more dangerous at night and he had little desire to be lost to an encounter with wildlife, or worse yet, underhanded humans.
The road back to Dyea was easier in the snow. Hard-crusted paths had been tramped down by hundreds of feet before his, and Bill found it far less complicated than maneuvering through the knee-high mud of late summer and fall. The frozen Taiya River would also afford him an easy path. With exception to those places where fallen trees and logs made artistic combinations with the now frozen water, the river would make a straight run into Dyea and shorten the time Bill would be on the trail. If I had ice skates, I could make the trip in half the time, he thought, smiling.
It was nearly dark by the time Bill reached Dyea. He’d already decided he would talk to Karen first. He would just explain the situation as it was and not give her a chance to refuse him. It had to be this way, and the sooner she realized it the better. If he had to, he’d tell her some of the horrors he’d seen along the way. He’d talk about the nearly frozen woman and her child. He’d even talk about the dead—those who had succumbed to the elements or their own weak bodies.
As if by preorder, Bill arrived at the tent store just as Doris and Grace were heading out with Leah.
‘‘Papa!’’ Leah exclaimed. She hugged him tight and kissed his frozen cheek. ‘‘We’re just off to do some shopping at Healy and Wilson’s store. Do you want to come?’’
‘‘You have a store right here,’’ he teased. ‘‘Are you deserting the Colton Trading Post?’’
Leah laughed. ‘‘No. The other store has a new load of goods. They just came in last week. They have bolts of corduroy, and Grace and I are going to make me a new skirt.’’
Grace smiled up at Bill. She was hardly any taller than his daughter and very nearly the same build. ‘‘It’s true, Mr. Barringer. Corduroy will make for a very warm skirt, and we must hurry or it will be taken up by the other women. Besides, we want to get back before it’s completely dark.’’
‘‘Then, by all means, don’t let me be the reason for the delay. I’ll be here when you get back, princess,’’ he said, patting his daughter’s shoulder.
‘‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’’ Leah questioned. ‘‘You could hear all the news. There’s been talk that gold has been found on the river here in Dyea. You could find out all about it and maybe we’d not have to go so far north to look for gold.’’
‘‘Gold, here?’’
Grace nodded. ‘‘That’s what’s been rumored. There are probably a dozen or more claims already staked. I haven’t heard much in the way of success stories and certainly no call of a bonanza strike like they have up in the Yukon. Might just be cheechakos. You know how they can be.’’
‘‘You’ve picked up the language pretty well for bein’ a cheechako yourself,’’ Bill teased. He liked Grace very much and found her charm and sweetness reminded him of Patience when she had been the same age. The idea of gold in the area intrigued him, and for a moment he thought to abandon his plans. ‘‘So who might know more about the Dyea strike?’’
Grace grew thoughtful. ‘‘I suppose you should talk to the recording office or the assayer. They’d be able to tell you what kind of color they’re seeing.’’
Bill nodded. ‘‘I’ll do that. You ladies go ahead to your shopping. I need to see Miss Pierce for a moment, and then I’ll take you up on your advice and head over to the recording office.’’
‘‘You won’t leave before we get back, will you?’’ Leah asked hopefully.
‘‘Of course not. I’ll stay the night.’’ He said the words as her expression tore at his heart. She trusted him—believed in him. How could he betray her? He watched the trio walk away. They were happy and Leah was healthy and well cared for. That was far better than anything Bill could give her on the Chilkoot Pass.
‘‘Mr. Barringer, whatever are you doing standing out here in the cold?’’ Karen Pierce questioned as she stepped outside to throw out a pan of dirty water. ‘‘If you’re hungry we have a pot of beans on the stove. Leah has just gone off with my aunt and Grace.’’
‘‘Yes, I saw them,’’ Bill replied. ‘‘And I’d be happy to warm up by the stove and eat. Maybe you could share a bit of conversation with me. We should probably discuss the children.’’
‘‘You’re right on that matter. I’ve had some concerns,’’ Karen admitted. She ushered Bill into the tent and followed him back into their private living quarters. ‘‘I’ve been worried about Jacob.’’
‘‘Jacob? Why?’’ Bill questioned. He looked around the room as if the boy might suddenly appear.
‘‘He’s gone off to help Captain Colton. We’re to move the store into a new building tomorrow.’’
‘‘A building will be a wonderful change. Where will it be located?’’
‘‘Several blocks north on Main Street. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding us. The captain has arranged a decent-sized building with several big rooms on the back. We’ll be living there and you are welcome to come and stay there as you come back and forth.’’
‘‘Well, that’s part of what we need to discuss,’’ Bill began, but Karen quickly continued, giving him little chance to speak.
‘‘Jacob has been very troubled over these passing weeks. He has few friends in this town and his heart seems quite burdened by something. He won’t talk on the matter. I’ve tried working with him on studies, but he holds little interest and while he’s good to contribute to our needs by bringing food and sometimes other necessities, he distances himself from all of us, Leah included.’’
‘‘He’s a young man in a house full of women,’’ Bill replied. ‘‘I’m sure he’s feeling a bit out of sorts.’’
‘‘It’s more than that,’’ Karen admonished. ‘‘He’s often been in fights.’’
‘‘It’ll do him good to fight for what he believes. That’s how it is with men.’’
Karen shook her head. ‘‘He needs a father. As you said, he’s surrounded by women. Perhaps he should join you on the trail.’’
Bill tensed. ‘‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. The elements are killing people every day. Sometimes from workin’ too hard, sometimes the weather. You know there’ve been floods and mud slides, snow and ice storms. It’s a hard life, and I’d rather not see him exposed to it just yet. I’m sure he’ll adjust to working here with you in time.’’
‘‘I disagree. He needs you.’’
‘‘I think, Miss Pierce, I’m better able to know what my kids need than you are.’’
Karen lifted her chin, striking a rather defiant pose. ‘‘I may not have children of my own, but I know children. I nannied Grace for over ten years. I know when something isn’t right and your son is clearly troubled.’’
Bill knew he would have to explain the situation. ‘‘You have to understand that some things have changed. I’ve been working hard to put together supplies for the journey north, but one man working alone is hardly able to manage very well for himself. The men I’m working with would have little patience for children—that’s why I’ve chosen to keep them here in your care.’’
‘‘Your son needs you,’’ Karen reiterated. ‘‘Who else will show him how to be a man?’’
‘‘He already knows how to be a man, Miss Pierce. He’s fourteen. He’ll be fifteen next month. My father was already dead by the time I’d reached that age and I grew up just fine.’’
‘‘Fine enough that you give little consideration for the needs of your children. You might as well not even come back for all the good you’re doing.’’
Bill bristled at this. ‘‘I’m not going to stand here and argue,’’ he said, forcing his tone to remain calm. He suddenly felt almost panicked by her reaction. He couldn’t very well tell her of his plans now. Not when she was being so harsh with him in regard to Jacob and Leah. Turning to leave, he stopped and added, ‘‘Jacob will be just fine. He’s going to have times when he fights. It’s the only way he’ll learn.’’
‘‘Learn what, Mr. Barringer? How to be as coldhearted and unfeeling as you?’’
Bill stormed out of the tent, not willing to even answer. He wasn’t coldhearted and unfeeling. If anything, his feelings were eating him alive. Karen Pierce didn’t know what she was talking about.
———
Jacob had heard every word spoken between his father and Karen Pierce. He felt horribly guilty for what had transpired between them. After all, they were talking about him. Karen was worried about the fights he’d had—at least the ones she knew about. Trouble was, Jacob found himself so often out of sorts with folks that he was quickly gaining a reputation as being a hoodlum. He felt bad that Karen worried, but he felt worse that his father didn’t. How could he just walk away and not care what those fights were about?
Jacob felt tears come to his eyes and angrily wiped them away. He wasn’t a baby and he wasn’t going to cry. If his own father didn’t have time or concern for him, then that was just the way it would be. He wasn’t going to shed tears over it, and he sure wasn’t going to let anyone know how much it hurt inside.