Gypsy (49 page)

She knew, too, that she had forged herself a place in Dawson’s folklore. There were many fiddle players in town, but no one as good as she, and they were all men. She was also considered the prettiest girl in Dawson, something Theo and Jack took great pride in.

People in Dawson liked stories, and there were enough bandied around about the Eldorado Kings, the fortunes they’d won and lost at gambling tables, and all the lesser characters, to fill several books. It didn’t surprise her one bit when she found people were embellishing tales of her, Theo and Jack. One night in the saloon, she overheard one man telling another that Theo had carried her on his shoulders up the Chilkoot Pass. Then he went on to describe how Sam died in Squaw Rapids, as if he’d been standing there while it happened.

Yet what intrigued people most, it seemed, was her relationship with Theo and Jack, for word had got around that she wasn’t married to Theo.

She was well aware that many of the dance-hall girls had their eyes on him. She couldn’t blame them — he was handsome, charismatic and rich now too, for they were making money hand over fist. It made Beth smile when they came slinking into the Golden Nugget in their best finery, flirted with him and tried to lure him away to whatever dance hall they worked in. She knew Theo well enough to be fairly certain that if he was to be lured away by another woman, it wouldn’t be a mere dance-hall girl.

One rainy evening in early August a man came into the Golden Nugget who not only had a story to tell but was to start a chain of events that would alter everything for Beth.

She was playing her fiddle as he walked in, a tall man in a mackinaw and a broad-brimmed hat who looked slightly familiar, but the saloon was too dark and smoky to see him clearly.

As always, she played for around half an hour before having a short break, and as she went up to the bar to get a drink, the man caught hold of her arm.

‘Howdy, Miss Gypsy,’ he said. ‘I was hoping I’d run into you.’

Looking up into his face, Beth recognized him as Moss Atkins, one of Soapy’s henchmen from Skagway. He had often come into Clancy’s when she was there, and though she hadn’t ever spoken to him, he had a reputation for being vicious. He also had the kind of face she couldn’t fail to notice, for his eyes were a brilliant blue and he had pock-marks on his cheeks.

‘Hello, Moss,’ she said. ‘Good to see you again. Have you just arrived?’

‘It’s been a few days now, just asking myself whether it would be smarter to push off before the river freezes, or to stay for the winter and do some business here.’

‘I think you’d do better in Skagway,’ she said with a smile. ‘The Mounties are very vigilant here. No guns, no skulduggery. If they catch you putting a foot out of line they’ll give you up to ninety days on the woodpile.’

It was said that few people caught out in a crime cared much about the fine given to them — they could usually afford it. But the punishment of being forced to chop wood for the town council did act as a deterrent. It was boring, back-breaking work, and most high-tailed out of town rather than do it.

‘Well, maybe I’d best skidaddle,’ he said, giving a humourless chuckle. ‘But to where I don’t know. Skagway’s lost its way since Soapy was gunned down.’

‘Soapy’s dead!’ Beth exclaimed.

Maybe if she hadn’t been so surprised, she might have realized people were listening to their conversation. But she was so keen to hear how it came about that it never occurred to her it would be wise to be more discreet.

‘You ain’t heard? It was back on 8 July. Shot down by Frank Reid on the dock.’

‘But why?’ she asked, as she recalled Frank Reid was an innocuous sort of man who was more interested in town planning than fighting.

Moss launched into the story of how a prospector called J. D. Stewart had come back to Skagway from the Yukon with 2,800 dollars in gold dust. It was stolen, and the general view was that it was by one of Soapy’s men. The Skagway traders were afraid that if word got around that it wasn’t safe for anyone with gold to leave from their town, all prospectors would take the sea route and bypass it, robbing them of lucrative business. Demands were made that Soapy was to give Stewart back his gold immediately, and the townsfolk began to turn against him.

‘The upshot of it was that Soapy started drinking, got his dander up and went off down to the docks with a derringer in his sleeve, a .45 Colt in his pocket and a Winchester rifle slung over his shoulder,’ Moss told her. ‘Frank Reid was down there, and told Soapy not to go any further. Soapy put his rifle to Reid’s head. Reid seized the muzzle with his left hand and reached for his own six-gun in his belt with the other. He fired, but the cartridge was faulty, and instantaneously Soapy fired his rifle, shooting Reid in the groin. But Reid fired his six-gun again; this time he shot Soapy right through the heart. He died instantly.’

Beth gasped, as did others within earshot, for everyone in Dawson had heard about ‘Soapy’ Jefferson Smith, even if they hadn’t actually gone through Skagway on the way here.

People around them started asking Moss questions, and he was clearly delighted to be the one to bring the news of this to Dawson and find himself the centre of attention. ‘Yeah, Reid died too, but a slow, lingering death. At least Soapy’s was quick.’

Both Theo and Jack came closer, as interested as anyone else in such a big story. Moss continued to hold forth, saying that many of Soapy’s men had taken to the trails and the mountains to avoid being captured by the gang of vigilantes who had lynching on their mind.

‘Maybe it’s a good thing you left Soapy when you did,’ he suddenly said to Beth. ‘He told me you was his girl, but I guess it must’ve been hard for you to swallow all his badness. Especially when he had that other fella of yourn shot.’

Beth’s stomach lurched, and she saw Theo’s face had stiffened. ‘There was nothing between Soapy and me,’ she said. ‘And I’m sure it wasn’t him who had Theo shot, you’ve got that all wrong.’

Moss laughed scornfully. ‘I ain’t got nothing wrong, babe, I was with Soapy when he ordered the shooting. “Take out the English guy,“was what he said, “I’ve got plans for his lady.“I saw you dozens of times with him, too, so if that don’t mean there was something between you, then I’m a Dutchman.’

Jack intervened at that point, suggesting it was time Beth played again. Moss left the saloon soon after.

The following day was Saturday, and as they’d slept late, they had to rush to open the saloon at midday. Beth was aware Theo was being a bit cool with her, but they were so busy there was no time to bring it out into the open.

On Sunday they didn’t wake until mid-afternoon, but when Beth snuggled up close to Theo, expecting that they would make love as they usually did, he got up and began dressing.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

‘I’ve got stuff to do,’ he said curtly.

After he’d gone out, Beth stood at the window, looking out across Front Street on to the river, and she could feel winter drawing close. The trees on the mountains were all evergreen so there was no autumnal colour like back in England, America and Montreal. She’d been told that the temperature could reach 50 degrees below freezing here in the winter months, and she shivered at the thought of it

Four hours later, Theo still hadn’t come back. Beth had spent the time catching up on little jobs, stitching up the hem of one of her dresses, doing some washing and writing a letter to the Langworthys. Outside it was still raining heavily, and she couldn’t imagine where Theo could have gone as nothing was open.

She and Jack made a meal down in the kitchen later, and stayed down there afterwards as it was warm by the stove.

‘He’s angry about what Moss said,’ Beth blurted out later. ‘But I don’t understand why he’d take it out on me. After all, he was the one that went off with that whore in the Red Onion, and I took care of him after he was shot.’

‘I wouldn’t take the word of anyone who worked for Soapy Smith,’ Jack said. ‘And I’d be surprised if Theo did. But the word was all over town by last night, and several people made jokes about it to him. I suppose he’s smarting a bit.’

Theo didn’t come home that night. He turned up at midday on Monday to open the saloon but offered no explanation as to where he’d been. As he didn’t seem to be brooding on anything and was just a little quiet, Beth let it go and went out to do some shopping.

She was gone a couple of hours and as she was walking back to the Golden Nugget, she heard the now very familiar sound of a steam horn on a departing boat. As she turned into Front Street, a large crowd were gathered to wave goodbye, and she waved too, as was the custom if you were nearby.

When Beth got back, Jack said Theo had gone to the bank with the takings. An hour passed, then another, and still he hadn’t returned.

‘He’ll be having a game of poker somewhere. Let’s just hope he took the takings to the bank first,’ Jack said laughingly.

It was just after seven when Wilf Donahue, better known as ‘One Eye’ on account of having a glass eye, came in. He was a regular at the Golden Nugget, even though he owned a similar establishment on King Street. Beth thought the rotund, red-faced man from Kansas coarse and over-familiar, but Jack and Theo found him amusing and claimed he was a man’s man.

‘I want you up there playing, my girl,’ Wilf said to Beth, pointing to the little stand she usually played from. ‘We won’t get any punters in without some music.’

‘Since when did you give the orders around here?’ she asked lightly, assuming it was his idea of a little joke.

‘Since two o’clock this afternoon when I bought the place,’ he said.

Chapter Thirty-two

‘Where are Jack and I going to sleep?’ Beth asked One Eye indignantly the following day. She was livid as she’d just overheard him telling Dolores and Mary, two of the saloon girls, that they could move in upstairs.

‘I won’t be taking your room unless you keep giving me lip,’ he said. He was half turned away from her, his one good eye lookinginher direction but the glass one staring sightlessly ahead. ‘Jack will have to move down to the kitchen, though, as I’ve promised his room to another couple of girls.’

Beth felt she might explode, but she didn’t dare for fear he’d boot her and Jack out. ‘This isn’t right, Mr Donahue,’ she pleaded. ‘Jack built this place and it’s our home. Don’t do this to us! It’s been enough of a shock that Theo sold the place to you without a word to us.’

The previous day, she and Jack had thought at first that One Eye was pulling their leg by saying he’d bought the saloon. He was known as something of a joker, and every time he’d come into the Golden Nugget in the past wearing a loud checked suit and stetson hat decorated with feathers, he’d said something outrageous. He was prone to splashing his money around too, and though they’d thought him a fool, they’d seen him as a harmless one.

But to their shock and dismay, he pulled out a legal document drawn up by a lawyer here in Dawson, and signed by Theo, proving he had bought the place, lock, stock and barrel, for 80,000 dollars.

They had found it astounding that Theo had been ruthless enough to clinch this deal on Sunday, but so cowardly that he stayed out all night so he didn’t have to face them. Yet he’d had the nerve to return on Monday after he’d signed the document and cashed the banker’s draft, and coolly pick up the takings and secretly pack a few of his things. He’d even spoken jovially to Jack, reminding him they needed more supplies of whisky, then calmly left to catch the steamer — ironically, the very one Beth had waved at.

Jack was incandescent with rage; Theo wouldn’t have got the saloon built but for him. But the glint of tears in his eyes suggested that the thing which hurt most was that he’d thought he and Theo were like brothers, and he couldn’t believe he’d betray him.

Beth saw the utter treachery of it. She would have stood by Theo whatever life threw at him, even if he’d lost the saloon in a poker game. Maybe their affair had grown cooler of late, but she still loved him and thought that love was returned. But to find he could just walk away from her, after all they’d been through and been to each other, that he cared more for money than her, was simply devastating.

There was no legal recourse, however. Theo had owned the land, and no agreement had ever been drawn up to give his partners a share in the business, even though he’d always said this was what he intended. If One Eye chose to throw her and Jack out on the streets he could legally do so.

To add insult to injury, they now had to be grateful he was prepared to keep them on in his employ and give them a roof over their heads.

Since the Golden Nugget opened, they hadn’t even had proper wages, and Jack had never been paid for the building work. All they’d had was a few dollars here and there when they needed something, foolishly trusting that the money going into the saloon account belonged to all of them, just as they’d shared everything in the past.

One Eye looked at Beth with cold calculation. He didn’t like the hurt and anger in her eyes; wronged women were invariably trouble. But he had to find some way of appeasing her, for he knew only too well that she was the Golden Nugget’s real attraction. In truth, he wouldn’t have wanted the place if not for her. Smart dealers, dancing girls, skilled barmen were all as common as drunks. But pretty fiddle players were as rare as a domesticated grizzly bear.

He knew he must string her along for another week or so till the river froze, then she’d have no choice but to stay all winter. And if he could get rid of Cockney Jack without putting her back up, maybe she’d even end up in his bed.

‘Look, my little Gypsy Queen,’ he said in honeyed tones. ‘I feel bad your man ran out on you; he was a louse to do that to you. But I’ve paid top dollar for this place and now I’ve got to make it work for me. So I’ve gotta let those two rooms. But I tell you what, I’ll pass the hat round when you play, and you can keep whatever they put in it. How’s that?’

Beth felt too numb to protest any further. It wouldn’t feel like her home without Theo anyway, so she supposed it didn’t matter if there were going to be four girls living in it.