I do, I do, I do (32 page)

"What time is it?"

The November days were short, and they had to wait for daylight before starting the day's trek, had to halt and set up camp at about four o'clock. It was a relief not to endure long, exhausting days. On the other hand, their progress was frustratingly slow. At this rate they wouldn't reach Dawson City until early spring.

"It's about an hour until supper. Why? Are you bored?"

She smiled. Tom Price was the least boring person she knew. He told wonderful stories about grizzly bears and wildlife, about eccentric prospectors and the rowdy life in the boomtowns. He knew the names of the peaks and lakes and how to do just about everything. He had an opinion on every topic and encouraged her opinions, too.

"It's not that. I'm starting to become a little concerned. It's dark and the snow is filling in our tracks. Shouldn't we be heading back to camp?"

"I was about to mention that." Leaning against the sled's load, lantern light softening his face, he crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "You're pretty, you're a great cook, and I'm sorry."

"' What?" Just looking at this man made her mind wander into dangerous areas. If she had a nickel for every time she had relived his kiss, she would be a rich woman.

"My pa says the way to get along with women is to tell them every day that they're pretty, they're good cooks, and you're sorry for whatever you did even if you don't know what it was."

Zoe laughed and leaned against the fragrant trunk of a snowy pine. During the past few days she'd been seeing Tom in a new light and had concluded that he was everything Juliette had said. By dropping her armor, she recognized all the good things she admired in her pa and brothers. He was strong, dogmatic, honest, stubborn, and a leader with pride to spare. Tom was everything she had ever wanted in a man—except he was from Newcastle.

But that didn't matter anymore. It never should have mattered.

Juliette's stunning observation that Zoe was like the carriage people in the Owner's Day Parade had shocked her. And, as with all great revelations, she instantly recognized the bedrock truth. She had chosen to see through the eyes of the carriage people, and she'd been ashamed of her family, friends, and of herself. That shame had created a desperate need to shake off her background and the people in it like a bad dream. Worse (and to her everlasting regret), she'd worried that Jean Jacques's servants would laugh and dismiss her family as shanty trash.

That she had been ashamed of her family made her stomach cramp and ache. How could she have been so shallow and small? Even as a barefoot child with wild hair and mended clothing, she would never have denigrated someone because his circumstances were less than hers. She wouldn't have apologized for good people living a hard life. But that's what she had done as an adult.

Oh, she had shaken off Newcastle, all right. She had held herself high and told herself that she was better than the people she loved. She'd left town as soon as she could. She had taken classes to educate herself and speak well. And she had congratulated herself that she had finally risen above a background that shamed and embarrassed her.

"—do know the reason, and I'm truly sorry."

Giving her head a shake, she studied the lantern light sharpening the angles of Tom's strong face, her gaze settling on his mouth. "I'm sorry. I was woolgathering."

"I said we're lost."

"What?" Abruptly she straightened away from the tree trunk.

"Actually we're not completely lost; I have a fair idea where we are. But it would be foolish and dangerous to search for the trail with snow and darkness obscuring the landmarks."

The snow had thickened while Zoe let her thoughts drift, and now their tracks were obliterated. Snow had collected along Tom's hat brim and atop the goods stacked on the sled.

Her chest constricted and suddenly she felt the cold stinging her cheeks and chilling her feet. But she kept her voice level, not wanting to betray anxiety when Tom didn't. "What will we do?"

The sourdoughs loved to tell grisly tales of men lost in snowstorms, their bodies not found until the spring melt. Equally terrifying were the stories of frostbite and amputated limbs. She knew it could happen, because three days ago she'd seen a man whose nose had been lost to frostbite. His disfigurement had horrified her.

Tom stepped forward and clasped her shoulders, his expression reassuring. "I won't tell you the situation isn't serious. But I will tell you we should survive with no ill effects. It's just one night."

One night in the open. Fear dried her throat. She gripped the lapels of his coat and willed her heart to stop pounding so she could speak. "We'll freeze. They'll never find us." Lord, she sounded like Juliette.

Tom patted her back, his touch a caress. "We'll be fine, darlin'. Don't you worry."

His confidence assured and irritated her. Then she pulled her thoughts together and reminded herself that this was not Tom's first trek through the wilderness. He would know what to do. When she raised her head, her mouth almost met his, and she drew a quick tingling breath, then stepped away and dusted her gloves together.

"All right," she said, aware that he was looking at her as if he, too, remembered a kiss that had seared her. She hoped her voice sounded steadier to him than it did to her own ears. "What should we do? And how can I help?" It would be a cold and miserable night, the worst night of her life, but she would be with Tom, and she trusted him to get them through it.

"Let's see what we have to work with," he said, untying the ropes securing the boxes and crates on the sled. "It's one of my sleds. If we're lucky… excellent!" He hefted an ax in his hand, then found a hatchet and gave it to Zoe. "I'll build a lean-to while you cut some pine boughs. Don't wander too far."

First he located a relatively dry and protected site beneath two large pines, then began chopping smaller trees. Working in the light of the lantern he built a teepee-shaped structure and overlaid it with branches stripped from the poles. By the time Zoe had collected enough pine boughs to cushion the floor of his shelter, Tom had scraped back the snow, hacked a pit out of the frozen earth, and had a fire blazing.

"Warm yourself while I set up the stove."

"We have a stove?" Thank heaven they had the sled.

"And food. Once the stove is hot, I'll fry some caribou steaks." He handed her an armload of blankets and asked her to spread them over the pine boughs while he positioned the camp stove near the narrow opening of the lean-to.

"The others will be worried." Zoe hung one of the blankets across the lean-to's opening. "Will they search for us?"

"Not until daylight," Tom rummaged for a skillet and plates, brandishing them with a smile when the items were found. "Are you still worrying about spending the night in the open?"

She smiled uneasily. "A little. But it seems we have all the comforts of home." Home reminded her of earlier thoughts. "Do you remember what we talked about that day at the glaciers?" she asked softly, sitting on a log he had rolled near the fire.

"I remember every word and every moment of that day." Glancing up from the stove, his green eyes traveled from her mouth to her throat and back to her eyes. For a long moment their gazes locked, and Zoe almost forgot what she wanted to tell him.

"I've been wrong about so many things," she began. While Tom waited for the skillet to heat, she told him exactly how she had felt about Newcastle and its residents, not sparing herself.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said finally, dropping strips of meat into the skillet.

"I don't. Not anymore." She couldn't identify the moment when she had begun to align with the carriage people instead of with her own. But she would never forget the instant of revelation. She told Tom what Juliette had said and her shock of recognition.

"I'm devastated that I didn't see it myself." Anger and regret twisted her stomach. "If I could, I'd rush home right now and beg Ma's forgiveness." She blinked hard. "I've said and done so many hurtful things over the years. I'd watch the grabbing and big portions at supper and think, 'This isn't how refined people eat. This is Newcastle.' Pa teased me about putting on airs, but he and the others must have known that I was ashamed of them." It was hard to say these things. "All of us living in such a small house, and wearing mended shirts and petticoats. Never being rid of the damned coal dust." She lowered her head. "I judged everyone by their fingernails. If there was a line of coal dust, I didn't want anything to do with them. But if their nails were clean, the person could be a liar, a thief, and a seducer, and I thought he was gentry, finer and better than the people in Newcastle," she finished bitterly.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, darlin'." Tom sat back on his heels and studied her through the falling snow. "I guess everyone in Newcastle has had similar thoughts. Maybe it didn't take them as long as it's taken you to come around," he added with a smile, "but everyone hates the Owner's Day Parade. You have to ignore the swells and just enjoy the free beer and music and the candy for the kids. Rich people live in a different universe. We don't understand them, and they sure as hell don't understand us. They can't grasp that we don't want charity."

"I wanted to be one of them," she said in a low voice.

"Who wouldn't want to ride in a fancy carriage, wear fine clothes, and be attended by servants?" A shrug scattered snow off his wide shoulders. "There's no harm in dreaming. As long as we don't lose sight of the good things we already have."

"I wanted it so badly that I did something very stupid and foolish." She longed to tell him about Jean Jacques, and now was the time. The confession hovered on her tongue but died there. Pride stopped her from telling him that she had married a man because he had clean fingernails and was not from Newcastle. She didn't think Tom would be as forgiving if he knew how far her blindness had carried her.

She watched him flip the steaks. Caribou was a tender meat, best when turned often over a hot fire and eaten before the red was cooked out. Tom placed the steaks on plates and poured the cooking juices over the meat.

"I think I understand what you're saying," he said after handing her a knife and fork, "and why you're telling me this."

"You do?" She wasn't sure she understood herself.

"You're telling me that you've changed your mind about our courtship and you've accepted my suit."

She stared. And then laughed. "You're a persistent man."

"That is what you're saying, isn't it? That Newcastle isn't an obstacle between us?"

Sadness chased the laughter from her eyes. Courtship was out of the question. She had a husband and she had no future. Both situations put a cramp in any courtship plans. But Juliette and Clara were right. Surely she was entitled to a little happiness in what would be a brief life.

Setting aside her supper plate, she looked down at her clasped hands. "Courtship usually leads to marriage. But you need to understand that I can't marry you, Tom."

Her statement didn't ruffle his pleased smile. "Let's not put the cart before the horse. I'm not proposing marriage, only courtship. Courtship is when both parties get to know each other and decide if they want to proceed to an engagement."

"We already know each other." She narrowed her gaze. "I know you well enough to know that you don't start something you don't intend to finish."

His laugh crinkled his eyes and widened his mouth. "Could be I don't want to scare you away by rushing you."

"I have reasons…" She bit her lip. "There are things I can't tell you…"

"I know. I hope you'll confide in me when the time is right."

After she found Jean Jacques and shot him, Tom would learn the whole story. But she wasn't willing to put Jean Jacques between them just yet. Not tonight.

"As long as you accept that our courtship is a sham, and it absolutely won't lead to anything more…"

He shook his head. "I don't accept anything of the kind. Look at the progress we've already made, and we've just begun." His smile faded, replaced by a seriousness and intensity that made her catch a quick breath. "You and I were meant to be, Zoe. I guess I've always known it. If you hadn't come to the Yukon, I would have gone looking for you. I don't see it any other way."

"Oh, Tom." Juliette was right again. She could love this man so much. "Don't say that."

"I'm going to say it over and over, Zoe, because I love you. I always have."

They stared at each other across the flames dying in the fire pit. Joy, despair, surprise, regret—Zoe wondered if he could read those emotions in her expression. If so, what would he make of them?

"There's so much I want to say to you," she whispered, her mouth dry. "But I can't."

"Are you cold?" he asked when the silence between them had lengthened.

She had forgotten about the snow and sinking temperature. "A little."

"I'll clean up. You crawl into the lean-to and get warm."

"It will go faster if we both clean up." Glad for something to do, she washed her plate with snow. "I can't imagine the lean-to will be much warmer than out here."

"It will be."

After they repacked the plates and utensils in the box on the sled, Zoe entered the pine-scented lean-to, and Tom followed. He put down the lantern and then leaned out the doorway. With a long pair of tongs he lifted several rocks out of the fire pit and placed them inside the skillet he'd brought with him. At once the air felt warmer on Zoe's face.

Now she saw that he'd rearranged the blankets and pillows she had set out, moving them close together.

"For warmth," he said, taking off his hat and heavy coat. "You'll be more comfortable if you take off your hat and coat, too." When she looked doubtful, he smiled. "You can always put them back on."

Slowly she opened the scarf tied over her hat, then removed her hat pins and set her hat near his. Then she unbuttoned her coat and pulled off her gloves. Until now she hadn't allowed herself to wonder about sleeping with him in the lean-to. If Juliette thought her nakedness had created a scandal, wait until she and Clara realized that Zoe and Tom had spent the night together. The thought made her smile.