Chapter 11

Standing on the deck of the steamship took all her strength. But it was worth it for the fresh air. Even if it was just to get the breeze to blow away her own stench. What she wouldn’t give for a bath and clean clothes. Hopefully soon.

As she stared ahead at San Francisco, Mary Margaret pondered what the next few days would hold. While she hadn’t known Charles very long, she felt a bond to him. And the more she thought about him leaving after they reached Denver, the more she hated the idea.

In and out of consciousness while she’d been ill, Mary Margaret had dreamed some beautiful dreams. Father was there. Happy and smiling down from heaven. Urging her to go on with life. To be happy. To allow herself to love and trust. When she awoke yesterday and realized how sick she’d been, it was time to change things. Turn over a new leaf. Oh, she would grieve her father for some time—probably the rest of her life. But she also wanted to savor every moment. No matter how many of them she had left. But hopefully, she still had a lot left.

She wouldn’t let her family members win. If they wanted a fight, they would get one. She would protect the Abbot legacy for her father and pass it down to her children one day. But she would love them and show them God’s love and mercy.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Charles strode toward her from the bow of the boat, his hands in his pockets and a slight smile on his face. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you up and about. You had me pretty worried.”

“Well, you know me. Always trying to keep you on your toes.”

He looked around them. “At least no one else is around right now, so I can be honest.”

She held her breath. When he got that look in his steel-gray eyes, she wanted to hug him for all she was worth. She felt … adored. “Well, go ahead. What is it?”

“I think I need a clothespin for my nose.”

A couple of other passengers emerged from below deck. Probably to watch their arrival at the dock. Mary Margaret gave Charles a brotherly shove and tried not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Martin. Behave yourself.” He looked stern, but she caught the twinkle in his eye.

“I’m just following your good example, big brother.”

Two hours later, Charles led Mary Margaret through the crowds at the docks. Something didn’t seem right, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. But as much as he wanted to take her hand and protect her, he couldn’t.

Not until they were safe.

He already had a plan. Get her situated in a reputable hotel where he could be in the next room. Then he would check the telegraph office, purchase their train tickets in false names to Denver, and get a new dress for Mary Margaret. It would only take three days to get to Colorado, and they could go straight to the courthouse and clear up this mess.

And then? Well, he didn’t want to think about leaving her and returning to Juneau alone. He knew he wasn’t good enough for her, but if he’d learned anything over the past few days—it was that he loved Miss Abbot. But could he tell her?

“Charles?”

He looked back.

“I can’t quite keep up—I’m sorry—could you slow down just a little?”

How foolish of him. She’d barely been able to stand, and here he was making a mad dash through the streets of the city. He stopped and gave her a minute to catch her breath. But when he turned, he saw a face he’d seen before. But then the man spun and went the other direction. What was going on? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the man had been watching him—or rather, following them.

When they reached the hotel, Charles paid for adjoining rooms and ordered a bath for Mary Margaret. After he got her settled, he promised to be back in an hour and told her not—under any circumstance—to leave the room or open the door for anyone.

She smiled. “I’ll probably take a nap. I’m so tired, I don’t think I can stand up another minute.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.” She yawned. “What is it?”

“Burn those clothes.”

Her laughter carried him down the stairs, and he practically ran to the telegraph office. But to his surprise and worry, there was nothing. What could have happened to Mr. Dillard? Especially after his ominous last note.

He wanted to make a stop in his store, but if he went in the front door, there was bound to be a commotion. Sneaking into the back, he found Mr. Bannister in the storeroom and tapped him on the shoulder.

“How can I help … Charles! My word. What are you doing here?”

Charles pulled the man aside. “I need you to be very quiet. Don’t let anyone know that I’ve been here.”

“Of course, of course. Whatever you need. Are you in danger?”

Charles peeked through the storeroom curtain. “I’m not really sure. But I am protecting someone right now, and I have to ensure they get to their destination. In a few days, hopefully I’ll be able to send you news and explain everything.”

The man nodded. “What can I do to help?”

Charles made a list and handed it to the manager.

“I’ll get to it right now.”

The bath was glorious. Most likely the best one she’d ever had—and not just because she’d never gone this long without one—well, maybe that was the reason. But she’d dumped enough lavender oil into the water that there could be no question when she got out of the tub that she was Mary Margaret again.

The only other clothes she had with her were a simple man’s white shirt and a pair of denims that were so big, she could barely tie the rope tight enough at her waist to hold them up. Prayerfully, Charles would return with decent clothes for her to travel in.

She laid down on the soft bed. Maybe she could just lie here and rest for a few minutes.

A knock jolted her awake. And it came from the door that led to Charles’s room. She padded her way over to the door and yawned as she opened it. “This had better be good. I was taking a lovely nap and you interrupted.”

His chuckle emerged from a tower of boxes.

“What is all this?”

“Clothes. For you. The trunk is arriving in a few minutes. But you can’t exactly travel like a lady without luggage.”

Before she knew what she was doing, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I can’t believe you thought of all this.”

“Mmmm, you smell nice.” He grinned and brought the packages in.

Rummaging through the stack of boxes, she found a large, flat one. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. It was a beautiful white dress trimmed with green ribbons. She held it up. “Charles, it’s beautiful. I can’t wait to wear it.” And she was shocked it wasn’t too long. How did he guess so accurately?

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“You mean the day I snapped at you about the job?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

She bit her lip. Father died later that day.

“I know it doesn’t hold the best of memories, but I was hoping we could make some new ones. You were wearing a beautiful white dress that day, and I’d just come out of the mine, so my eyes were still adjusted to the dark.” He moved closer to her. “The sunlight made your dress glow. You looked like an angel.”

Tears burned her eyes again. Must she always cry in front of this sweet man? She shook her head. “How did you get the right length?”

“I just told the manager at the store that you only came up to here”—he held a hand up to his chest—“and they did the rest.”

A knock sounded—but it came from the door in Charles’s room.

“I’ll be right back.” He pulled the door between their rooms closed.

In a couple of minutes, he returned. But a frown etched his face.

“What is it?”

He motioned to her. “They delivered the trunk, and the bellboy was looking around with a little too much curiosity. Then I looked out the window. Come see, but stay back.”

Mary Margaret followed him into his room and over to the window.

“See that man?”

“Which one?”

“The one across the street. Studying his notebook.”

“Ah, yes.”

Charles sighed. “I wasn’t sure of it before, but I am quite positive now.”

“Of what?”

“That same man was on the ship. And then he was on the docks following us. Now, he’s looking for us in the hotels. The bellboy all but gave him away.”

She placed a hand over her heart. Could she take much more of this? “What do we do now?”

He walked into Mary Margaret’s room. “Sadly, we pack all this up into the trunk and I go find you some more suitable clothes, Martin.”

As much as she hated the thought of dressing like a boy for longer, she hated the thought of dying more.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“The tickets are for a man and a woman traveling together.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to change them, or does it matter?”

“I’ll think of something.” Charles shook his head.

“Please … be careful.”

“You, too.”