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Both Lucky and his uncle acted as if the sun never set, that the world was a glorious place, and all they had to do was flash one of those eye-twinkling smiles and all their dreams would come true. Though comfortable talking with either of them, she still didn’t trust men, any of them, and kept to herself most of the trip. The boat was full of other men and she’d readily agreed when Lucky had suggested it would be best if she stayed inside as much as possible. Which wasn’t hard.
The cabin was remarkable. Not only did it have a bed—she’d only slept on one of those a few times in her life—but it was full of books and newspapers and magazines—all about gold mining. Due to her limited abilities, reading them had been difficult at first, but the more she kept at it, the easier it became and she found herself wishing they’d never arrive in Seattle. Or better yet, sail right past it. Her luck had shifted—she could feel it deep inside—and she knew what she had to do.
The books she’d read filled her with additional excitement. Alaska was full of gold. There were ways to get it out of the ground, too. Frozen or not, it wasn’t so different from what she already knew in a lot of ways. Smitty had taught her all he knew about mining.
Settling the last book back to its rightful place, just as she’d done with all the other ones, Maddie swallowed, forcing her heart to slide back down her throat to where it belonged.
Alaska. That was where gold was, and she wanted gold; therefore, Alaska was now her destination. She wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder every step, either. Mad Dog would never follow her all the way to Alaska.
Freedom and gold. Her luck had definitely changed.
Captain Trig smiled brightly as she opened the door. Much shorter than his nephew, the captain wasn’t much taller than she. The top of his head was completely hairless and a ruddy red from being exposed all the time, and he had a jagged scar that wrapped around one ear. Yet, like Lucky, his glistening brown eyes made him appear less dangerous than a woeful pup looking for a home. Though her luck had changed, Maddie continued to tell herself she still had to be cautious. Wolves were once pups.
“We’re pulling into Seattle,” Captain Trig said.
Maddie stepped out of the cabin.
“Hope the trip wasn’t too rough for you.”
“Not at all,” she answered, pulling her eyes off the gray skies. Seattle didn’t appear any more excited to see her than she was to see it. “I could sail for days yet. Months even.”
Trig’s laugh was low and choppy, but not frightening. Pleasant in its own right. “It would get old to you long before months were up, girlie.” He gestured toward the busy shoreline. “We’ll dock here. No need for a rowboat this time.”
“I didn’t mind the rowboat, either.”
He laughed again. “Trying to finagle yourself a job?”
Maddie glanced his way.
His eyes sparkled, even as he said, “A ship’s no place for the likes of you, darling.” Taking her elbow as they walked, he continued, “There’s a good woman here in Seattle. She’ll provide you with the training to become a nursemaid or servant girl and find you a good family to work for. You’ll never have to worry about men like Ridge again. Just follow her instructions.”
Maddie bit her lips together. He was right in saying she wouldn’t have to worry about Mad Dog ever again, but she’d never be a servant—she’d have servants. Now wasn’t the time to share that, so she asked, “For free?” Her father had never figured it out, but she had. Nothing in life is free.
“The cost is covered,” Trig answered. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Worry wasn’t what she felt. There wasn’t a word, not one she knew, to describe how her stomach soured at the thought of being beholden to anyone. She’d given Hester the gun Smitty had given her as payment for getting her out of town. A tiny derringer not worth much, but next to her nugget, it was all she’d had. She’d repay Trig, too, and Lucky, for their parts. The Mary Jane was sailing to Alaska when leaving Seattle, and Maddie would be on her. This was her chance and she wouldn’t give it up. Once she found her gold, she’d clear her debts and finally be in complete control of her life.
“When are you sailing out?” she asked. “In case I want to say goodbye?”
Trig glanced around at the men doing things with ropes and riggings and such. When his gaze settled on one man, her heart fluttered oddly in her chest. She realized then it was Lucky.
“To me or my nephew?” Trig asked.
She’d barely spoken with Lucky, yet she did think a lot about him. Mainly because she was so preoccupied with all his books. He was her route to the gold, and she had to follow it, yet no one could know that. Not Trig, and not Lucky. Shaking her head, she answered, “You of course. I owe you for rescuing me.”
“Think nothing of it, honey. Besides, Lucky rescued you. My ship just carried you north.”
“Well,” she said, contemplating the truth of that. An answer settled and she grinned. “You told him to.”
Trig laughed again. “We’ll be sailing out in three days.”
Maddie started to count the hours at that very moment. When the time came, it was Trig who walked her down the steep slope created by the drawbridge-type door that was lowered from one side of the boat. He talked amicably about a Mrs. Smother as they walked along the dock then up the stone-lined shore.
Four blocks from the water—she counted and noted distinct landmarks to find her way back—he led her up a set of steps on a large brick building that, despite the colorful flowers lining the walkway, had every shutter shut as if keeping everything outside out and everything inside in.
Mrs. Smother was summoned by the older woman who answered Trig’s knock, and soon Maddie was ushered up a set of stairs by the same white-haired lady who’d opened the door while Mrs. Smother, a middle-aged woman with brown hair and faded blue eyes, invited Captain Trig to tea. Maddie had to grin at the thought of the captain drinking tea, but followed the other woman, who introduced herself as Martha.
Maddie was biding her time of course, she couldn’t just run away, not until the Mary Jane was about to set sail. Martha led her into an extraordinary room. There was a tub for bathing, a commode for, well, necessity and hooks on the wall holding several garments.
“There’s hot and cold water,” Martha explained. “You can wear anything that fits and leave your dirty clothes in that basket.”
A thousand questions danced in Maddie’s head, but she didn’t want to sound or look ignorant, so she simply nodded.
“Do you need any help?”
“No,” she answered, “thank you. I’ll be fine.”
Years ago her father had left her to live with one of his lovers—that was what he’d called Roseanne—and there had been a room just for bathing there, though not as elaborate as this. Maddie had learned a lot about life that winter, and men and women, and had been glad when Bass had returned. “Make sure you scrub well,” Martha said. “It looks as if it’s been a while since you’ve bathed.”
Considering there hadn’t been a creek handy for several days, it had been a while, but the other woman’s tone struck a chord that went beyond that. Maddie held her temper in check and waited until Martha opened the door before suggesting, “I would like to say goodbye to Captain Trig before he leaves.”
“It would be best if you didn’t,” Martha answered, not unkind, but stern.
Maddie bit her lips together and smiled. Three days could prove impossible here. A person knew when they weren’t wanted, especially one that hadn’t been wanted since the day she’d been born. It was just as well; she didn’t want to be here, either.
After her bath, which she figured out just fine, and dressed in a pale blue dress that had fit better than the others—at least she could button the front of this one—Maddie met with Mrs. Smother. She listened and nodded, even answered once in a while, although Maddie had no plans on heeding the “strict set of rules that must be followed at all times.” Not stupid, she remained amicable during the evening meal and completed all of the chores requested of her. Then she waited until the house was quiet before sneaking down the stairs and out the door in Mrs. Smother’s parlor. The other two doors were guarded. Bass had taught her a few things that had turned out to be useful, like stealth.
A thorough exploration of the docks, which took up most of the night, didn’t provide a place to stay until the Mary Jane sailed, and a fact occurred to Maddie. Mrs. Smother was sure to contact Captain Trig if she came up missing prior to him leaving port, and he might have the ship searched. As she backtracked and sneaked back into Mrs. Smother’s big brick house Maddie pondered how one might possibly board the Mary Jane moments before it sailed. Once again, a few of Bass’s escapades came to mind.
* * *
Cole cursed as he attempted to roll the wooden barrel up the ramp. The contents inside refused to shift, making the barrel roll back toward him rather than flipping over and rolling up the ramp. Too big around to heft onto his shoulder, he squatted and put all his strength into a hefty shove. It rolled, and Cole hurried upward pushing continuously to keep the momentum going. When it finally topped the ramp, he was breathing hard and calling Robbie a few choice words. Cole had no idea what might be in the barrel, but the scratchy writing, as if someone had used the burned end of stick, saying “the Mary Jane” told him Robbie had agreed to ship whatever the barrel contained.
After it quit rocking, he flipped the barrel on end. The faint morning light showed one more set of scratchy writing. “This side up.” After rolling it up the hill, flipping the barrel onto its other end was simple. He toppled it end for end and then paused to swipe the sweat from his brow as he glanced around, having sworn he’d heard a muffled moan.
“Cole!” Robbie waved from the dock. “Come help with this luggage, would you?”
Glad to leave the barrel where it sat, Cole headed back down the gangplank. Robbie could take the barrel below, into the cargo hull; that would be easy as the ramp was downhill. Arriving at his brother’s side, Cole’s jaw tightened at all the tapestry bags and traveling trunks. Disgusted with the “cargo” Robbie had lined up, Cole shook his head. “We aren’t a passenger ship.”
“We’ve already gone over that. Alaska isn’t yours. People can move there if they want to.” Robbie grinned. “Especially paying the price those ladies agreed to pay.”
Letting his snort tell his brother exactly what he thought of hauling a dozen dance-hall girls to Alaska, Cole grabbed a trunk and headed back up the ramp.
Robbie, with a couple of carpetbags in each hand bounded up beside him. “Could make for an interesting trip.”
Scowling, Cole answered, “Interesting isn’t the word I was thinking. Don’t you remember anything from family picnics? When you get more than three women in a room, there’s bound to be a fight. A dozen of them will be dangerous. Ugly, too.”
“Not one of those gals is ugly,” Robbie argued. “Trust me, big brother.”
Cole didn’t bother with an answer; instead, he declared, “We sail within an hour. If your ladies aren’t here, we aren’t waiting.”
“They’ll be here,” Robbie assured. “They’ll be here.”
Unfortunately, Robbie was right. The women arrived before the mounting stack of luggage had been carried into the hull. The area had been transformed by all sorts of furniture the ladies were paying to have transported. Dressed in outfits and covered in face paint that left their profession in no doubt, the women marched aboard, waving and blowing kisses at the few mates it took to run the Mary Jane.
Mainly a cargo ship, the Mary Jane only had a few cabins—Robbie had explained that to the women, which was why a portion of the hull had been transformed to make the trip as comfortable as possible. Robbie had set that all up, too, and Cole had been a bit surprised when Uncle Trig had agreed to it.
Trig had, though. In the end, his uncle had been the one to convince Cole there was as much profit to be made off those women as any other cargo they’d haul. It wasn’t that Cole didn’t appreciate a woman now and again, he just didn’t have time for the problems that came along with them. Rachel had been a headache from the get-go. Telling him what to do, what to wear. She’d partnered up with his mother, too, trying to make sure he never took to the sea. When he’d told Rachel he wasn’t interested in gaining access to Gran’s fortune, but in finding his own, she’d run to his mother again, bawling. The two of them hounding him nonstop had been more than he could take. He’d left despite the fact Rachel and his mother were planning a wedding.
His.
Women wanted nothing more than to rule a man. That would never happen to him. He’d be in charge of his own life.
Cole set down the last trunk, and as he turned, ready to make his exit up the hull ramp, a head of coal-black hair caught his attention. His heart kicked the inside of his chest, making the air in his lungs rattle. The woman turned around to face him, grinning, and he experienced a wave of disappointment. Or perhaps relief. He’d wondered about Maddie since she’d left the boat on Uncle Trig’s arm. She’d waved and he’d tipped the brim of his hat, but had wondered how she was getting along at Mrs. Smother’s. Maddie just didn’t seem like the domestic-servant type.
He told himself he was glad this woman wasn’t her and hurried up the ramp. The black-haired woman’s profession was the exact thing he was trying to save Maddie from. In all actuality, Hester and Uncle Trig had saved her; he’d just been the runner. She’d been no problem on the trip. Stayed in the cabin, reading his books on mining, although she’d never let on to that. He hadn’t let on that he knew she’d read almost everything in his cabin, either.
Cole chuckled as he scurried across the deck to begin preparations to set sail. Maddie had certainly been different than any other girl he’d ever been around. She’d wanted less to do with men than he did women. He’d sensed that. Not only while rescuing her, but during the few times they’d conversed. They hadn’t said much to one another, usually just greetings during meal times, yet he’d noted her mind was always going, taking in the surroundings and holding on to every word Uncle Trig had said. That had mainly been about sailing or the places he’d been. Her eyes had sparkled whenever Alaska had been mentioned, and that was probably why he still thought about her. She had the fever as bad as he did.
Cole’s thoughts shifted then. It wouldn’t be long now, and he’d be finding gold. The thrill of that put a smile on his face.
The Mary Jane set sail while the sun inched its way into a clear sky turning a brighter blue with each minute that ticked by. Cole embraced the work it took maneuvering the ship out of the bay and setting their course north to Alaska.
His mind was always on his job, and his heart was right along with it. The day was perfect for sailing, and the women—he figured due to the hour of which they must have crawled from their beds—had settled into the hull as soon as they’d boarded, and with any luck, they’d sleep away most of the day.
The deckhands whispered amongst themselves, but no one made mention of the unusual cargo. To do so would have angered Trig, and no one angered the captain. Cole liked that, too, because it promised a smooth and uneventful trip.
Hopefully.
He still had his doubts.
Late that night, while taking his turn at the wheel, his doubts were confirmed. Cole pinched the bridge of his nose at the commotion coming from the hull. The ruckus had been going on for some time and he’d hoped it would stop all on its own, but evidently that wasn’t to be. Since no one else seemed willing to go see what was happening he had no choice. Glancing toward Chester, the other mate assigned to the night shift, Cole nodded toward the wheel. They were in open water, but still needed to be alert. While walking toward the hull, he also glared down the narrow hallway running between the cabins. Uncle Trig or Robbie, who should have been dealing with such rumpus, hadn’t stepped out of their doors.
He’d known they wouldn’t; it was his job to take care of anything that came about during his watch. With frustration burning his lungs, Cole started down the slope. Women and boats didn’t mix. To his way of thinking, women didn’t mix with much. They always needed something and whined until they got it. They were clinging, too, as if they couldn’t take a step without assistance. Women had their purpose, but he sure didn’t have that purpose in his life. That was why sailing fit him so well. Mining would, too.
A man who wanted freedom and peace stayed far away from women.
Cole stopped at the bottom of the ramp. Robbie’s cargo looked and acted like a pen of clucking hens. Half of them had scarves made of feathers around their shoulders, which they were flipping and flapping about, leaving an array of red, black, white and pink fluff floating in the air. He couldn’t see much beyond that, nor could he hear anything above their squawks.
Sticking a thumb and finger against the sides of his tongue, he let loose a squealing whistle.
Silence filled the hull. He could once again hear the water sloshing against the sides. Praise be. Batting aside a few feathers floating before his face, Cole attempted to release the tension from his jaw before growling, “What’s all the commotion about?”
A buxom woman with ash-colored hair streaked with red—a horrible combination—stepped forward. “Where’s Mr. DuMont?”
“You’re looking at him.”
The obvious leader of the pack slapped her hands on her hips and marched forward. As she did so, she exposed a red corset, tasked with the unenviable role of keeping everything in place.
“I mean Captain DuMont,” she retorted, stepping close enough to fill his nostrils with the scent of enough rose water to drown a rat. “I demand to speak with him this moment.”
“Demand all you want,” Cole answered. “He’s sleeping.” Lord knows how. “I’m in charge right now.”
“Well, then,” the old hen said, “I demand to know if that woman paid the same price we did to sail upon this ship.” Waving a hand toward the group, she continued, “Or if she is a stowaway as I suspect.”
Cole stopped shy of saying all the woman had paid when the leader added, “I put out a fortune to have me and my girls transported safely to Alaska and will not abide by others getting a free ride. Put her overboard immediately.”
“Overboard?” Did she think the Mary Jane was an historic pirate ship, making people walk the plank in shark-infested waters? Proof all women’s heads were filled with fantasy and fluff. Just as he’d always suspected.
An eerie sensation and the glare still coming from the woman had him leaning slightly to see around her feathers and hair. His heart dang near dropped to his feet. The rest of the brood had parted, and right there in the middle, chin up and eyeing him with a hint of haughty determination, stood the black-haired beauty he’d been thinking about since she’d walked off the ship. “Maddie?”
“Hello, Lucky.”
The way she said his nickname had his knees growing a touch weak. He locked them in place. No woman made him weak, not any part of his body.
“What are you doing down here?”
Rather than answering him, Maddie turned to the pack leader. “I told you I know the boat’s owner.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t a stowaway,” the woman snapped.
Cole had half a mind to wait it out, see how Maddie got herself out of this one, but he couldn’t do that. The buxom woman had her claws exposed and looked as if she wanted to tear someone to shreds. He’d learned what was causing the commotion, and it didn’t help his mood in the least. Grasping Maddie’s arm, he tugged her forward. “What are you doing down here?”
“I—”
Not wanting to spend any more time below deck, he interrupted, “Come on. I’ll kick Robbie out of our cabin for you.”
Her eyes grew as round as silver dollars. So did the dozen other pairs staring at him. Robbie should be the one dealing with this, not him, but leaving Maddie down here wasn’t an option, not even for a few minutes. Waking up his brother would suit Cole just fine, and he wouldn’t be gentle about it, either. He and Robbie now shared the cabin, and his brother deserved to be put out considering the cargo he’d mustered up. Spinning around, Cole pulled Maddie along beside him.
She flashed a smile over her shoulder, toward the momentarily silent brood, and though he didn’t mind the quiet, Cole warned, “Don’t get too smug there, darling. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Maddie closed her eyes briefly, just to get her insides back in order. Everything had gone remarkably well until one of the women had noticed her sneaking toward the ramp. If she hadn’t had to relieve herself—which she still did—this would not have happened.
“I know,” she answered, barely glancing toward Lucky. “But can it wait a few minutes?”
“A few minutes?” he asked, forcing her to march up the ramp.
The urge had her bladder on fire. “Yes, there’s something I need to do.”
“What? Jump overboard?”
“No.” Flustered, she admitted, “I need to use the facilities.” There was an area at the back of the boat she’d used before and assumed it was still there. At least she hoped. It had been all day and she was about to burst.
“Go,” he said, gesturing toward the back of the boat once they’d reached the top of the ramp. She didn’t take the time to thank him—couldn’t.
When she emerged from behind the little wall, Lucky was leaning against the high side of the ship a few feet away. His eyes were sparkling like the stars overhead, but the scowl on his face had her throat swelling.
Maddie had been afraid his brother would be the one to enter the hull to discover what had the women so riled up. Of the two brothers, she was glad it had been Lucky. Though she’d secretly hoped it would be Captain Trig. There was something about him that said he was trustworthy—an aspect she’d rarely sensed in a man. Lucky was that way, too—trustworthy—but she’d much rather deal with Trig. Maybe because of his age. Living with Smitty had taught her how to relate with older men—younger ones were scary.
