Gold Dust (19 page)

“Aw, Katy, dammit!” he whispered against her throat.

Pliable as a willow, she bent back when he urged her. His mouth traveled to the hollow at the base of her throat. She lay
against his strong arm as he unbuttoned her shirt and kissed the thin cotton chemise that guarded her breasts. She trembled
with unfamiliar need when he pushed the chemise aside and caressed her bare flesh with his lips. Not until his mouth fastened
on the hard nub of her nipple did a tingle of alarm rouse her from the lethargy of desire. Passion congealed to shock at both
herself and him. She pushed desperately on his shoulders.

“Katy,” he murmured against her breast. “You’re goddamned beautiful.”

“Get away! Let me go!”

He released her instantly. They stared at each other for a moment. Jonah looked almost as dazed as Katy felt. He blinked,
as if trying to bring himself back to reality, then reached out and closed Katy’s still-gaping blouse.

Katy jumped back. She hadn’t even realized she was half-undressed. A fiery flush burned her cheeks. Suddenly she was furious.

“You… you…” The words to describe him eluded her. “Don’t you have something better to do than try to play patty-cake with
every female in sight? You… you randy jackass!”

She fled to the tent. Holding her blouse closed as if it was her damaged dignity she held together instead, she simply stood
and stared at the canvas wall. The tent flap opened, and
a footstep scraped the tarp-covered floor behind her. Jonah cleared his throat. His breathing sounded like a bellows in the
confined tent.

“Katy…”

She didn’t turn, didn’t move.

“Katy… goddammit…”

She heard him leave, and whatever strength that held her collapsed. Limply, she sank to the blankets of her bedroll. The half-full
bottle of Patrick’s whiskey sat in the middle of the tent where Andy had left it. Katy reached for it. If any day deserved
a swallow or two of whiskey, this one did.

When she finally crawled into her blankets, Hunter had come into the tent, but Jonah had not.

Katy did not sleep. Her clothes were binding and annoying, but they were a sort of armor between herself and shame, and she
refused to undress for mere comfort’s sake. The near disaster she had invited upon herself whirled through her mind in a confusing
eddy of embarrassment, chagrin, and fascination. At the same time that she mentally kicked herself for getting into such a
situation, she marveled at the hurricane of sensation that had swept through her—that still lingered in little sparks that
seemed to fire randomly in various parts of her body. Her nerves were on edge and her mind was jumbled. One part of her wanted
to flatten Jonah Armstrong with her fist, while another part wanted to kiss him again. Still another part fretted over just
what Jonah thought. Why had he kissed her like he wanted to eat her alive? Had he been trying to prove his point? Had he been
making fun of her? Had he shared in the hurricane of sensation or simply created it? She wished Jonah was in the tent so she
could ask him. She was glad he was gone so she didn’t have to face him. She was totally confused.

Damn those prancing whores, anyway! What had happened was all their fault! Katy was not prim or straitlaced, but when those
perfumed and gussied-up giggling knotheads had
started hanging all over Jonah, she’d wanted to rip some fancy satin dresses and pull some artfully curled hair. Defending
poor Andy had just been an excuse for her temper. The boy could take care of himself with trollops, Katy figured, but Jackass
Jonah obviously could not.

Katy yanked the blankets up around her shoulders. Now she was angry again. Let Jonah stay out in the rain that was pattering
on the tent canvas. Maybe it would cool him off. Maybe he could crawl under Andy’s tarp and the two of them could compare
notes on whores.

She finally got to sleep after what seemed like hours of tossing and turning. Hunter woke her once or twice by whining and
pacing the tent. The wolf’s behavior should have told her something was wrong, but Katy was so dog tired that she simply told
him to lie back down. Therefore, when the earth beneath the tent began to rumble, she was unprepared.

She woke to enveloping sound: rattling combined with an all-encompassing roar. A voice shouted over the noise. Someone screamed.
Katy came full awake with the certainty that something was terribly wrong. Then the tent flap jerked back and Jonah, dripping
wet, his shirt plastered to his chest and his hair curling wildly from wind and water, stared in at her.

“Katy, you here?” he said into the darkness.

“Yes.”

“Well get out! There’s been a mudslide up valley, and it’s flooding down here. The water’s rising fast. We’ve got to get to
higher ground.”

“I’m coming!”

Jonah disappeared as Katy untangled herself from the blankets and pulled on her boots. Still woozy from sleep, she lit the
lantern and started to roll up the blankets to be tied. Hunter dashed out of the tent as she stuffed her extra stockings and
gloves into her valise and snapped it shut. Valise and bedroll under one arm, lantern in the other hand, she headed for the
door when something struck the tent. Water rushed in
to cover the tarp floor. The spruce boughs she had slept upon floated around her ankles and were rising toward her knees.

“Omigod!” Katy muttered. “He wasn’t kidding!”

She pushed the tent flap aside. Cold driving rain hit her in the face. Here and there lanterns bobbed in the darkness. Voices
shouted over the tumult of rain and roaring flood. The water swirled above her calves, and her heavy twill skirt tugged her
along with the flow. She fought against it. In the darkness, with the water whirling dizzily around her, upslope was impossible
to discern from downslope, and she had slept in so many campsites over the last few days that she didn’t remember which direction
was uphill.

“Jonah! Where are you?”

The roar of water drowned out her call. She slogged in the direction she thought was uphill. Suddenly Hunter bounded out of
the darkness, spraying water with every bound. He whined once and turned. Katy followed. The water rose past her knees. Hunter
stopped bounding and started swimming. Katy felt a hint of fear squeeze her stomach.

“Jonah!”

No answer. She could only hope that he had gotten Andy and the horses to safety. Debris swirled past them—branches, a wooden
box, a stool. The water had risen to midthigh when someone’s tent came barreling along on the swift current. Katy was not
able to get out of its way. It hit her square on and engulfed her in a tangle of poles and canvas. She dropped the lantern,
and the world became dark. The tent seemed alive as she struggled with it. It rose above her, tugging her along as it was
tossed by the flood. Her feet went out from under her. She flailed, went under, clawed her way to the surface, and finally
freed herself from the tent’s deadly embrace. By now she had been carried out into the current. Everything was dark. A branch
swept by and clubbed her so hard she saw stars burst before her eyes. She gasped and got gritty water in her mouth instead
of air.

“Jonah!”

Her feet couldn’t reach the bottom. Around and around the current twisted her, until up, down, back, and forward had no meaning.
Choking on mud and water, gasping with weariness, she was so cold that she scarcely felt the logjam that scraped by her and
took some skin from her back.

“Help! Jonah!”

She had no strength left to call, no strength to keep her head above the swirling water.

“Jonah!”

Where was that damned greenhorn now that she was the one who needed rescuing for a change?

“Katy!”

Jonah’s voice was scarcely audible above the chaos of rain and flood, but it was there, calling her name, and it gave Katy
strength.

“Katy! Catch the rope!”

What rope? How am I supposed to see a damned rope in the dark?

A swish and splat nearby inspired Katy to reach out. She touched rough hemp, but the current swirled it away from her.

“Catch the rope!” Jonah’s faint voice insisted.

Two more throws didn’t even come close enough for her to hear the rope landing in the water. Then there came another swish
and splat directly behind her. She twisted, exploring the water frantically. The rope brushed against her and she grabbed,
this time capturing it before the current could jerk it away. As soon as she tied it around her, it tightened.

By the time her feet touched bottom, Katy felt as if she’d been in the cold, rushing water forever. She didn’t feel the rope
where it cut into her beneath her arms; she couldn’t feel her hands where they still convulsively clutched her lifeline. When
Jonah and Andy reached out to grab her, she couldn’t walk. They had to drag her to dry land like a waterlogged sack
of flour. Andy unfastened the rope from where it was tied around a tree while Jonah pumped the water out of her.

Spilling a gutful of dirty water onto the mud was not how Katy would have chosen to begin the new day, but she was grateful
for every uncomfortable heave. Every twinge and discomfort meant she was still alive, a condition which only moments ago had
seemed an unlikely proposition. Even Jonah’s scolding sounded like sweet music compared to the heavenly harps she might have
been hearing.

“Katy, goddammit to hell, why didn’t you follow right behind me, you little, contrary, addlepated twit?” Jonah continued the
physical pounding along with the verbal abuse, and more water came up. “Always do things your own way, don’t you? Never listen
to anybody else. Didn’t believe me when I told you to hightail it out of there fast.”

Katy wanted to tell him that were many possible interpretations of the word ‘fast,’ but she was too weary. All that came out
of her throat was a groan.

The pounding stopped. Jonah’s arms circled her, cradling her against his chest, which right then seemed the strongest, solidest
thing in a suddenly uncertain world.

“Christ, Katy, I thought you were gone.” His breath in her hair was like a caress. His arms were a circle of warmth. “It was
a miracle I heard you, a damned miracle the rope landed in the right place.”

They lay in the mud together without moving. Katy was content to lie in the rain with Jonah’s arms wrapped protectively around
her. Scarcely able to believe she was alive, she burrowed more securely into his muddy embrace. She could have stayed there
forever.

Forever wasn’t granted her, however. A sudden explosion of shouting and footsteps pounding past them made Katy suddenly aware
of how they must look. She reluctantly disentangled herself. As they got to their feet, Jonah caught her hands in his. “Are
you all right?”

“Oh sure,” she sighed. The beginnings of a smile twitched
a corner of her mouth. “It takes more than a flood to stop Katy O’Connell—if there’s someone nearby who’s willing to pull
her out. Have you seen Hunter?”

“He’s all right. He practically sank his teeth into my hand to let me know you were out there. I couldn’t see a damned thing.
It was only when he made me listen that I heard you calling.”

“If you couldn’t see me, how did you know where to throw the rope?”

He grinned. “I didn’t. Dumb luck it reached you.”

Katy felt death’s breath in an icy whisper against her skin. She shivered. Dumb luck. She should be dead. With a sudden nameless
fear, she reached for Jonah, but before she could move into the comfort of his arms, Andy pelted up to them and breathlessly
panted out the news that someone was caught on a logjam down valley.

“Bring the rope,” Jonah told Andy with a tired sigh.

Several lanterns bobbed around one end of a dead tree that projected into the flood. A tangle of debris traveling downstream
had caught on the tree and extended far beyond the limit of the lantern light. Screams and sobs that came out of the darkness
bore witness that a woman was part of the trapped debris.

“We could try throwing the rope again,” Katy said.

Jonah shook his head. “It would likely get tangled, and if our pulling broke any part of the dam loose, the whole thing might
go and carry whoever it is with it.”

They learned who it was when Rhona ran up to them, wild-eyed and disheveled. Water had eroded valleys in her face paint, and
black stripes of mascara gave her the appearance of a tragic clown. “It’s Maude out there!” she told them. “Poor little Maudie.
She can’t swim, and she’ll drown for sure when that tangle of stuff breaks up.”

“Why can’t she just climb along all that junk and come in that way?” Andy asked.

“She’s probably too scared,” Katy said.

“No one’s willing to go after her,” Rhona wailed. “They’re afraid of the jam breaking loose and carrying them away.”

Katy grimaced. “I’ll go get her.”

“No, you won’t,” Jonah said.

“Yes, I will. I’m light and agile.”

“And I’m telling you that you won’t. Andy, take hold of Katy and don’t let her go.”

“Yessir.”

“And give me the rope. I’ll go after Maude.” He tied the rope around his waist and gave the other end to Katy. “Tie this around
something sturdy. I don’t want to become part of the flotsam rushing down the valley toward Dyea.”