Snow Angel Page 12

  “Why don’t you talk it over with the group, Charlie. Call me when you’ve come to your decision. I’d like to get a move on before dawn.” With a toss of her head, she marched over to her outfit and sat down.

  The waiting would have been the worst part, except that she could hear almost every word they said. The fools don’t know how to whisper, she thought with a tight smile. Charlie and the half-breed wanted her out. She could only thank whatever fate was looking out for her that she’d gotten to Charlie the night before when he’d been drinking, or she would never have gotten this far. The twins were all for having her and argued in her behalf. They mentioned how nice it would be to have a woman around who could cook for them. Elizabeth tried not to groan. They’d find out the truth on that score soon enough. It was a tie, and they all looked to the preacher for the final vote. Elizabeth had to strain and hold her breath to hear the soft intonation of the stately man. He said something about how he believed her when she said she would go with or without them, and that he would rather take her under their collective wing than leave her to the dangers of a lone trail. She was in the group.

  Her elation was too great to fear the road ahead. She was strong and smart and desperate. Those attributes had gotten her through before and would get her through again. They had to.

  With a few curt words to her, Charlie lashed her pack onto one of the mules along with the others. “You’ll have to carry the bedroll on your back like the others,” he said in a surly voice.

  Elizabeth smiled, confident and cocky as she strapped on her pack for the hike to the steamer that would take them to the jump-over town of Dyea. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she assured him. The temperature was a comfortable 15 degrees, and she could feel the excitement of new adventure in her veins. She wouldn’t think of the past or of Cara or Noah or even Ross. She would go forward and carve out a chunk of gold for her future.

  * * *

  THE TRAIL HAD never seemed so slow or tedious as it had on this trip, Noah thought, as he guided his horse into the barn outside the post. Hurriedly, he checked that the water trough was full and added a little hay from a nearby pile to the feed trough. Later, he would brush the horse down and give him better feed, but for now, he just couldn’t wait. He had to see Elizabeth.

  With sheer willpower, he made himself walk calmly to the door of the trading post. His look became puzzled and his steps gradually slowed when he got his first good look at the front of the post. Something wasn’t right. The place was dark and it looked deserted. An uneasiness swept over him when he found the door locked. Why would Will lock up the post in the middle of the day? He shuffled his feet uncertainly for a moment. Glancing up at the second story windows, Noah’s brow creased. The lacy curtains were open and he could see the bedpost of Will and Cara’s bed through one of the squares of paned glass.

  Suddenly a thought seized Noah, causing him to spin on a heel and stride down the street. Maybe Cara had had the baby. Maybe Will was having himself a celebration drink at his favorite saloon, The Hawk Eye Saloon.

  Noah trudged up the narrow street, past the shacks and the lean-tos, the cabins both well built and ill spent, and the plank buildings, the town’s businesses with their gaudily painted storefronts in the harsh afternoon sun. The wind was gusty today, and the town had a busy sound to it that was pleasant only in the sense that he heard it so rarely. His boots rang out on the wooden boards as he climbed the stairs to the swinging doors of the saloon. Tinny music rang out at all hours, giving the place a feeling of revelry, but Noah was disappointed to find it nearly empty. Sidling up to the bar, he motioned to the barkeep.

  “What can I get ya, fella?” The barkeep seemed bored and in a talkative mood as he polished his eyeglasses on a white apron.

  Noah gave him a half grin. “I was hoping to find Will Collins in here. Maybe celebrating the birth of his first child. I went over to the post and it’s locked up tight. Can’t figure where else he’d be.”

  The man’s face suddenly became animated. “Haven’t you heard? That pretty little woman they had working for them up and disappeared night before last. Collins had half the town looking for her.”

  Noah stood suddenly, numb with disbelief. “What else do you know about this?”

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know much else.” He was about to turn away when Noah reached his arm across the bar and seized him around the collar. Hauling him halfway over the bar to glare into his face, with teeth gritted, he demanded in low, commanding tones, “Tell me what else you know. Anything.”

  The man’s face became red as he wheezed. “OK, OK, just put me down. I … I can’t breathe.”

  Noah dropped him abruptly, and the man collapsed to the bar. He quickly backed away out of Noah’s reach. Holding his own throat and taking deep swallows of air, he hurriedly explained, “Collins came through here about ten yesterday morning asking if I knew anything about Miss Smith. I didn’t know a thing. Then he asked about some other fellow who had talked to her at the post. I’ll tell you, I was glad to say I didn’t know him. With the look in Will’s eye, he was after blood. Anyway, the only thing I really know is that the girl has been gone two days, no one knows where. Speculation has it that it must have something to do with this character who paid her a visit.”

  Noah scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them still. Piercing the man with his eyes, he asked. “You’re sure you don’t know this man’s name? Sure you don’t know anything else?”

  The man backed away even further. “I’m sure. Hey, what’s your name, mister? If Will comes back through here, I’ll tell him you passed by.”

  Noah’s squinted. “You do that. Tell him Noah Wesley is looking for him.”

  He saw the man’s face whiten as he nodded, but bravery or stupidity must have goaded him on, since he had the nerve to ask. “Aren’t you the fellow that lives up on Mt. Juneau? I heard you broke in the Indians around here some years ago. I’m real honored to meet you. Those dirty thieves haven’t been near the trouble they could have been for this town if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Noah scowled. “I didn’t ‘break them in,’ as you put it, by thinking of them as dirty thieves. They’re men and they’ve known how to survive in this wilderness a lot longer then we have. They deserve our respect.” Noah turned away with barely concealed disgust and strode heavily from the room.

  Out in the open air, his heart sank. God, where is she?

  Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, was gone. Something bad had happened to her, and he hadn’t arrived soon enough to help. He could barely contain his feelings of frustration and anger.

  Suddenly, a great gust of wind swept through the street. A williwaw, Noah thought, grasping the saloon’s spindly column with one hand and his hat with the other as the force of the sixty-mile-an-hour wind roared its insistence. He remembered holding Elizabeth in another such wind, breathing in her hair and not wanting to let go even after the wind had died down.

  This wind pushed at him, making it nearly impossible to walk toward the trading post and seeming alive with evil intent. It was as if it wanted to stop him from finding her. He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not, but he asserted out loud anyway, “You’ll not have her.” The gale pushed even harder and then, as he stood his ground, it gradually, slowly lessened. His resolve solidified within him, and he felt his spirit rise up for a fight.

  * * *

  January 10, 1890

  Dear Mrs. Rhodes,

  While working at the orphanage I found several answers. It appears that Elizabeth was here and has been here for some years. I regret that I was unable to find her sooner as she was recently adopted. I have not, as yet, been able to find out the name of the adoptive parents but will keep trying. The orphanage is very tight-lipped and rather mean-spirited. I was nearly caught going through their files but managed to hide behind a tall potted plant undetected. While I was in hiding, a woman, the birth mother I believe, came in and demanded information about her child.
The superintendent was at first most unpleasant, but suddenly had a change of heart as the woman slid a thick stack of bills across his desk (several leaves were in the way, but I’m almost certain). Your presence here may turn the tide … with some monetary assistance, of course. Could you come to Illinois and assist me?

  We are so close, ma’am. I can feel that she is nearby.

  I remain your devoted servant.

  Sincerely yours,

  Jeremiah Hoglesby

  Private Detective for Hire

  Twelve

  With a mighty push, Noah plowed his weight into the plank door of the post, shattering the wood. Reaching inside, he unhooked the latch and shoved the door open. That’s when he heard the muffled sounds coming from upstairs. Taking up the lantern, he flew up the stairs and into the bedroom. Cara lay curled up on the bed, on her side, writhing with pain and clutching her extended abdomen. Noah rushed to her side and knelt down. Touching her shoulder gently, he said, “Cara, it’s me, Noah. What is it? Is the baby coming?”

  Cara grasped his hand tightly, squeezed with ferocious strength for a few minutes and gasped for breath. When the spasm finally subsided, she gave him a weak smile. “Thank God you’re here. Will left yesterday to look for Elizabeth. She’s gone. Oh Noah, I didn’t know what to do. I let her leave. She was so frightened and nothing I said convinced her to confide in me.”

  “We’ll talk about Elizabeth later. Why didn’t you go for help when the pains started? Why did you latch the door?”

  “I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I didn’t want any customers, so I latched the door. The pains came on so suddenly. And it’s early—I didn’t believe it was the real thing at first. I tried once to get downstairs, but when I nearly fell … I was frightened. I was going to try again, but then I heard the door … oh … oh … here it comes again.”

  Noah lent his hand as Cara tensed on the bed. Her head tossed back and forth and her whole body strained, her back arching, then curling inward. Noah only stared, not knowing what to do to help. Awkwardly he reached out and smoothed her sweat-pasted hair back from her brow. “You’re doing fine, Cara,” he heard himself say and could only credit any sense he had to watching his father help in the birthing of a foal. His father had always tried to keep the animals as calm as possible.

  Finally, she relaxed and lay back weakly.

  “Elizabeth. Dear God …”

  “Don’t talk,” he said gently. “I’ll get the details about Elizabeth later. Would you like a drink of water?”

  She smiled weakly. “Yes, and a doctor. But I’m afraid there won’t be time, and I’m too terrified for you to leave me.” She took a deep breath. “Noah, you wouldn’t mind delivering a baby, would you?”

  Noah felt his throat constrict, but when he looked into her wide, frightened eyes, he gave her his most confident smile. “I’d be honored to be the first to see Will’s child. But I’ll probably be able to round up a doctor without leaving you. There is bound to be someone milling around outside. And if not, we’ll do fine on our own. You just rest in between the pains. I’ll go downstairs and gather some supplies and see if I can find a messenger.” Seeing the panic in her eyes, he quickly added, “I won’t leave, I promise. If you need me, just call.”

  She nodded, the lines of her face suddenly lax. Her eyelids dropped shut. Noah rose from the bed and headed downstairs for supplies. What supplies he needed, he wasn’t sure, but he seemed to remember something about boiling water …

  He went first to the mangled door, shoved it open, and searched up and down the streets surrounding the post. He saw a boy of about ten, and Noah called out to him. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a coin and handed it to the lad, saying, “Run and get one of the town doctors. Mrs. Collins is having her baby. The boy looked momentarily bewildered, and Noah forced down the urge to shake him awake. “Check their lodgings and the saloons and be quick about it. Spread the word—someone will know where they are.”

  The boy nodded and seemed to understand because he latched firmly onto the coin and took off, his feet flying out behind him. Noah returned to the store, thinking he had done the best he could. As he heard the gasps coming from upstairs, he searched his dim memory of birthing babies and hurried to gather a few items. Blast it, he wished Will were here. There were very few reasons that would take Will away from the post and his very pregnant wife. He knew it was his friendship and not only concern for Elizabeth that had done it, and he was humbled by his friend’s loyalty. He only hoped he could be so noble in this task before him.

  After some searching he found clean clothes, a porcelain bowl, and string and scissors to tie the cord with. He filled the bowl with fresh water, stirred up the fire, and put a pot of water on to boil to sterilize the tools.

  His expression was carefully light, but his heart was in his throat as he reentered the bedroom. Taking a rag, he did the one thing he remembered overhearing his mother say had gotten her through her labors. He tied it on the post near Cara’s head and knotted the free end into a fat knot. This he handed to her and directed her to grasp it when the pains came.

  The next hours crept by as though dragging heavy irons. Noah was forced to stand by, feeling utterly helpless, as his best friend’s wife struggled to bring forth new life. She tried to be brave. She tried to quiet her groans, but the pain was stronger than her will, and by the end she was screeching and yelling at him as if he were the vilest creature on earth. Noah was glad Will wasn’t there to hear the new endearments his sweet wife, now turned she-devil, was ascribing to him.

  He was starting to worry that the boy he’d sent in search of a doctor hadn’t understood his instructions. Someone should have come to help them by now. The room was hot and stuffy and the afternoon sun was fading to a hazy twilight. Just as he was about to go back outside to elicit more help, Cara, during a brief lull in the pains, said groggily, “I hope the boy finds Doc Sanders, Noah. The other doctor, Clem Barker, probably left for the Klondike. And if not, I don’t know that I would want him anyway.” She started to sniff. “He doesn’t wash his hands often enough to suit me, and … and he’s creepy.” As another pain came on, she started to cry in earnest, “Noah, I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this. I don’t want to have this baby. Stop the pain. You have to stop the pain.”

  He’d never seen her look so sure of anything.

  Noah looked frantically around in desperation. There was only two ways he knew of to lessen pain, knock her out with a left hook to the chin, or give her some whiskey. The first was unthinkable, though he didn’t think she’d object at this point, and the second, well, he would just pray the liquor wouldn’t harm the baby. She had to have something.

  He went downstairs, straight to the bottle Will kept in the cupboard, and poured a stout glassful. He stared at the bottle for a moment, wondering if it was the right thing to do, then shrugged. If nothing else, it would ease her suffering and let her relax some. He needed her to stay awake, though—he couldn’t possibly do this alone.

  It took several gulps of the fiery liquid before Cara seemed to relax a little. Noah’s tense muscles eased somewhat in relief too. It was such a long struggle, this bringing forth new life. He hadn’t realized the full strain of labor until now. It was a wonder women lived through it time and again.

  Then, as the sun was setting beyond the edge of the horizon in a brilliant array of pinks and purples, a sudden change came over Cara. With renewed energy, she began to pull her chest toward her knees and push. Noah positioned himself between her legs with a sheet covering most of her and waited. Her whole body heaved with the pressure of pushing the head out. After three hard pushes he saw a dark head of hair, another push and out slid, straight into his big hands, a tiny baby girl.

  Noah gasped, wonder and surprise filling him. She was so small … so perfect … a tiny breathing human. It was like nothing he had ever imagined experiencing. As he watched, the baby screwed up her face and let out a tiny cry.

  He just s
tood there, afraid to move. Red and slightly wrinkled with lots of dark hair like her father, she moved in his hands, turning her head toward him. He was spellbound, so caught up in the moment that he didn’t remember Cara’s presence until she said in a tired but happy voice, “Let me see my baby.”

  Noah quickly cut and tied the cord. He cleaned the baby with hands that felt too large and clumsy and wrapped her in a soft blanket. He would never forget the look on Cara’s face as he placed the baby in the crook of Cara’s arm.

  Noah was momentarily nonplused when he saw Cara lifting off the blanket. Then he realized he’d forgotten to tell her the sex. “A girl, Cara. You did real good.”

  Cara smiled at him with tears in her eyes and said, “She’s so beautiful, isn’t she Noah?” At his nod, she said, “Thank you. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

  Embarrassed, Noah turned away to clean up. He laid a fresh bowl of warm water and a cloth on the table for Cara to use and a fresh nightgown. “I’ll just go downstairs for a bit. You call when you want me to put the baby in her cradle, OK?”

  Cara nodded. “Thank you.”

  Noah, arms laden with dirty linen and other supplies, was walking down the stairs when he heard what was left of the door scrape open and excited voices filter up the stairs. He quickly lowered the bundle and met the stare of a plump, chattering woman. Will and Jacko were right behind her. “Good heavens, are we too late?” the woman asked.