Yukon Wedding. Allie Pleiter
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suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as you’ve got a teacher for a wife and all. Me, I think you have a lot to learn.”
“Mack!” Any further commentary was cut short by the appearance of Caleb Johnson. “Got another one for you.”
Mack set down his hammer and straightened up with a groan. “Sixth this month. I thought we’d see more of these in winter than now.” He walked out of the general store’s framed-out shell to see a scrawny young man in tattered shoes and nowhere near enough clothing for the trail’s demanding weather. “What’s your name, son?”
“David Mindown, sir. Out of Seattle. Came up two weeks ago.”
It was the Seattle ones that always showed up like this. Young men who’d hopped the next boat, so sure of their fortune, only to discover how cruel the Chilkoot Trail could be. Mack was surprised he’d lasted this long. “How old are you, Mindown?”
“Twenty-one.”
Mack doubted he’d seen twenty, from the looks of him. “Got family back in Seattle, do you?”
The boy just nodded. The ones that came back down off the trail—especially the ones Caleb brought to him—would almost choke up at the mention of home and family. Most of them were so broken down and hungry they’d been known to call any woman who offered them a good meal and a bit of care “Mother.”
“Got anything left at all?”
Caleb and the boy shook their heads simultaneously. This boy should have never been allowed up the trail. Harder men than he had barely made it halfway. Mack put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, finding it sharp and bony under the thin shirt he wore. “Time to go home, son. Some adventures are better left to other days. You come on by the house tomorrow morning and I’ll get you squared away. There’s a ship leaving on Tuesday, I’ll book you passage. You got a place to sleep and eat until then?”
“Mavis said the shack is open,” Caleb answered. Mavis Goodge, the boardinghouse owner in town, had a little bunkhouse out on the back of her property that she’d fixed up for just such circum stances. Treasure Creek had crafted an odd little rescue system. Caleb usually found the wayward miners in need of rescue. Teena Crow often tended to whatever wounds she could with the Tlingit healing ways that were her gift, as the town still had no doctor to speak of. Mavis gave them shelter. Lucy Tucker took it upon herself to feed whomever was housed out in the little shack, so that it wasn’t a burden on Mavis. And Mack funded their passage home. Every home and business in Treasure Creek was either sending prospectors up the Chilkoot or catching them when they fell back down, so needs somehow always got met.
Still, no one really saw to the spiritual needs of all those broken men—except the missionary on the trail, Thomas Stone. And still, he was only one man. Treasure Creek needed a real church, which meant the town needed a real pastor with teaching and preaching gifts, not just a fill-in general store owner with good intentions. Mack seemed to see it more clearly with every lost soul who limped down off the mountain.
“Mavis’ll set you up for tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow then, David Mindown. And don’t you bother with anyone who says they’ll wire your mama from Skaguay. There’s no telegraph from there, only wires that don’t lead to anything except your money going into someone else’s pocket.” The sham was a common one—and one of the hundreds of predatory schemes that led to Mack’s vision of a honest town in Treasure Creek.
Ed came up behind him on the General Store’s future front steps. “You’re too good to kids like that. A fella’s got to learn to pull himself up by his own bootstraps. You can’t go around scooping ’em up and sending them back home just ’cause they’ve hit hard times.”
Mack looked at the skinny fellow sulking his way down the street beside Caleb. “Hard times is one thing. Freezing to death on the trail is another. You and I both know what they do to pups like that in Skaguay.”
“Yep,” replied Ed as they both turned back to their work, “but I wish I didn’t.”
Lana spent the morning organizing the house and cooking Mack a nice picnic lunch. He was working hard keeping his provisions outpost running while building the new general store, and he’d lost time while he took her to Skaguay. Lana thought she owed him the courtesy of a decent meal. Besides, things had been rather cool when he left this morning, and she hoped the gesture might smooth things over.
She’d been so taken with the concept of teaching, it hadn’t even occurred to her how broadsided Mack would be by the idea. Even she found it rather sudden. Snapping at him for his honest reaction wasn’t the smartest response. Jed hadn’t been a champion of honesty in marriage, and she was just coming to understand that honesty sometimes meant you didn’t like what you heard.
She made the mistake of stopping by one of the dockside fruit stalls on her way to the General Store. Treasure Creek’s waterfront could be beautiful or chaotic, depending on which ship was docked. “Serves me right,” Lana chided herself as she hoisted Georgie up on one hip, for fear of losing him in today’s teeming, boisterous crowd. Caleb would have his hands full today; men, animals and crates of every description were piled in disorganized clumps all over the beach and adjoining road. Lana heard four different languages and winced at several bouts of indecent banter as she picked her way through the throng. She had just decided fresh fruit wasn’t worth the trouble when a young man sidled up next to her.
“Lemme me carry that for you, ma’am. Looks like quite a load to get through this mob.” The double load of toddler and picnic basket had made maneuvering treacherous, if not close to impossible. She vaguely recognized him; he was in his early twenties, clean-cut by Skaguay standards and boasting a charming smile. He tipped his hat at both her and Georgie. “You’s Mack’s new wife, ain’t you?”
“Thank you. I am.”
“And you used to be Jed’s gal, right?” He took the basket from her arm with one hand, putting the other over his heart. “Shame about Jed. I’m sorry for your loss, but I expect you’ll be right happy as Mrs. Tanner. Fine man, Mack Tanner.”
“He is indeed.” She nodded toward the basket. “That’s his lunch you’re hauling. And Georgie’s.”
“And a cute little bug he is, too. You make a pretty family. I expect he treats you right, buys you all kinds of pretty things. A man of such position ought to display his success, I always say.”
Something in his turn of phrase, or maybe just slippery edge of his words, made her sorry she’d let him take the basket. “Mack treats me well.”
“He should. He can. Generous man, Mack Tanner. ’Course, that’s easy to do when you’ve got a heap of gold to back up your fine sentiments. What I wouldn’t give to be his banker, hmm?”
Lana didn’t care for the direction of this conversation. “My husband makes no secret of his distrust in banks, Mr….”
“No sir,” he replied, ignoring her cue for his name, “I believe I’ve heard as much.” He leaned too close to her, arching one eyebrow in a way that sent a shiver down Lana’s back. “Makes a man wonder, though. Where does a smart man like your husband keep that heap of gold?” She felt his hand take hold of her elbow. “Jed left you a heap of gold all your own, come to think of it. My, what a fortune the two of you must make. Tell me, does Mack share his hiding places with his pretty little wife? His pretty little rich widow, who wanders the streets alone?”
Lana yanked her hand free and turned on the weasely little man. She snatched the basket from him with all the force she could muster, even though it nearly sent Georgie rocking. “What he shares is none of your business! And the wife of Mack Tanner had best be able to walk anywhere she pleases without foolish threats from the likes of you. I expect if you show your face in Treasure Creek again…” Before she could finish her angry thought, the man had tipped his hat in a sinister fashion and melted back into the bustling crowd around her.
She stood for a shocked, angry moment, gasping and clutching Georgie tight to her side. In all