Jenna Kernan (11 page)

His dark head descended to her bare shoulder,
kissing a trail along the edge of her chemise and releasing the ribbon ties with his teeth. Jack’s warm knuckles brushed the swell of her breast and she gasped at the roughness of his skin and the tenderness of his touch.

When his lips touched to one of her nipples, it budded with a pulling tightness that rippled through her middle. His drawing kiss and questing tongue sent pulsating waves rolling to the juncture of her legs. Warmth and wetness spilled from her as she quivered in his caress. The insistent throbbing brought a cry to her lips and she reached instinctively for his hips, splaying her fingers over the taunt muscles of his buttock. His hands left her breasts, stroking her belly with feathery kisses that sent her head spinning. She arched against him, trying to press his big, male body to hers.

She wiggled and strained, wanting him to touch her everywhere at once. His thigh lifted, pinning her legs and then pressing between her thighs. She opened her legs to him, needing him now as much as he needed her. His fingers danced lower, tangling in her tight curls and opening her soft folds.

She tensed at the intimate contact.

“Trust me, Lily. Trust me as you have all this long journey we’ve taken together.”

She closed her eyes and lay back into the warm sheepskin that lined his coat. Jack would take care of her as he always had. His fingers dipped inside
her, the slow friction was heaven. On the next stroke, she lifted her hips to meet him.

He kissed her as she rocked gently against his fingers, penetrating her secret places, bringing her a new pleasure. When his thumb began a wonderful circular dance about her swollen flesh, she could not contain the gasps of excitement.

“I can’t resist you. You’re too sweet.”

He shifted, lifting to his forearms as he positioned himself over her. She spread her thighs to make room for him as his hips lowered to meet her own. His fingers withdrew and his male flesh replaced them. He slid into her slowly. Her body was slick, but he was big and the sensation of fullness frightened her. She stopped moving, but he did not, slowly slipping forward, invading her body, taking what she had offered.

As he reached the delicate barrier of her virgin skin her body resisted.

“Lily?” His voice trembled and his body poised, shivering half-sheathed within her. He left the decision to her. Her body pulsed with the need he had roused. She lifted her arms to circle him, clasping his shoulders and sliding the full length of his back, now slick with sweat, until she came to his hips. He held his weight from her, resting on his elbows.

“It will only hurt for a moment.”

She nodded and tugged at his hips. He gave a sharp thrust and the fine tissue tore away. His gaze
never left hers. Her eyes widened as she felt the barrier release with a tiny tug. An instant later he was fully joined with her.

Was that all—just that little twinge? Lily smiled up at him.

“I’m fine, Jack.”

He lowered his head into the hollow of her neck, muffling his words. “Thank God.”

Her body needed to move. She rocked tentatively against him. He lifted his head, his expression one she had never seen. He looked wild, excited and possessive all at once. He stared down at her as if she belonged to him.

His hands slipped down and captured her knees, drawing them up until her ankles rested at his shoulders.

“You’re mine now.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”

He clasped her hands, drawing them high above her head. Squeezing her fingers he lifted his hips and then drove forcefully into her body. She locked her ankles about his neck unable to keep herself from lifting to meet the frenzied thrusts that pressed her deep into the folds of his thick coat.

“Wild as the Yukon, just as I imagined,” he whispered.

His strokes were velvet, each one building upon the next. Something was happening deep inside her. It started in the place he had first touched her; the
pressure of his body in hers and the friction made her ache for more. She threw her head back and spread her thighs wide to bring him deeper as the tension broke, surging through her like white water. She cried out like the wild animal he accused her of being, panting and gasping as her body bubbled with a pleasure that wrung from her a long moan of delight.

“Ah, yes, Lily, that’s my girl.” He thrust once more and then held them joined together. Deep inside her body, she felt him move, though his body was still and then came a rush of liquid from his body to hers. He groaned and fell upon her, collapsing with a completeness that would have frightened her had she not felt the same lethargy. They had energy only to lie together, slick with sweat and panting from their exertions.

He enfolded her in his arms, carrying her with him as he rolled from her and onto his side with his face pressed tightly in the lea of her neck.

Within her body she felt his flesh slipping from hers and sighed with frustration at losing the connection between them. She stroked his head, listening to his soft breathing as he fell asleep in her arms. Sometime in the night, he roused to place more wood on the fire, slipping into his clothing. The night was cold, so she did the same, lacing her chemise and drawing on her bloomers, finding a tightness in her legs. She gave a little groan.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“No. My muscles are sore, is all.”

He stroked his big hand over her hair and smiled down at her. “Only natural.”

Lily returned his smile as he gathered her up in his arms, warming her again. She stared up at the sky, but the gray clouds kept her from seeing the stars. She felt herself falling asleep, wishing she could sleep beside Jack every day for the rest of her life. She didn’t regret what they had done. It was beautiful and right.

T
he whine of mosquitoes woke Lily. She opened her eyes to find Jack standing far down the bank at the water’s edge with Nala who was fetching a stick he threw out into the river.

She smiled at the picture they made, as if he were a boy with his dog instead of a man about to fight the river once more. She stretched and felt a twinge of sore muscles at her thighs. A glance showed a small smear of dried blood there. It was not time for her monthly courses, so she wrinkled her brow a moment as she stared. Had he torn something inside her?

The blood had ceased so whatever it was had passed. Lily washed herself with a wet rag and icy river water and then dressed.

As she slipped into her woolen stockings, and added layer upon layer to her outer garments, she remembered the sweetness of their joining and the
words he’d whispered.
You’re mine now, Lily.
But what did that mean?

She wasn’t. Couldn’t be if he was to have his dream. And he wasn’t fool enough to bring home a poor Irish wife. Choosing her would make him an outcast, hold him back in his aim to return triumphant to New York. And even if he did ask her to come with him, her dreams of adventure did not include living in a city known for its hatred of the Irish or being snubbed by all Jack’s high-class friends.

There was the rub. If she let him go, he could live his dream and she could live hers. But if they stayed together, they’d face a mean choice; to have each other, they’d have to forego all they had fought and struggled for. They would have to give up their dreams.

Lily thought of her mother, as she buttoned her coat. “I understand now, Ma, why you took those men to your bed. But you made me promise the impossible. You can’t live a life without regrets, though sometimes you get to choose which ones to live with.”

This morning she was brimming with remorse, because she’d tasted what it could be like between them and now she must let him go. Once was a risk. More than that was foolishness. She’d wind up like her mother, pregnant and alone. She doubted the saloons in Dawson would hire her then. Her entire
grim future stretched out before her. Repeating her mother’s mistakes, walking the same tired treadmill.

No. It had to stop. He was a man, so he’d want more of her. That meant she needed to remind Jack of his dreams and responsibilities. He had obligations to his family and they came before her.

She couldn’t cost him everything that he’d fought and struggled for. Lily closed her eyes against the pain of what she must do.

A life worth living, her mother had said. A life without regret. Lily hung her head and wept.

Jack walked back along the shore toward the curling fire of their camp. Lily was up. He smiled as memories of last night mingled with anticipation of seeing her again.

“Find Lily,” he said to her hound and pointed.

Nala trotted off, head high, stick clamped in her mouth. Jack watched Nala drop the stick upon the ground beside her mistress. Jack wished he had something to give Lily, as well.

Lily grabbed Nala around the neck and hugged her tight, burying her face in the big dog’s neck.

Jack slowed. Something was wrong. He set off again now with greater speed. When he reached her, she did not look up, keeping her eyes fixed on the frying bacon, worrying the thick strips unnecessarily with a fork.

“Lily?”

She waved at the mosquitoes but did not look at him. He dropped to his knees beside her and waited, hands pressed to his thighs. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. Had he hurt her?

“What’s wrong?”

She lifted her free hand and pressed it to her mouth as if to keep from crying. Blue eyes shone from within red-rimmed lids. A knife blade of anxiety sliced across his middle. Why wouldn’t she speak to him?

“It was a mistake, Jack.”

“No. It wasn’t. We’re perfect together.”

She shook her head, covering her eyes with the palms of both hands. “We have to stop. It’s not right, what we’re doing.”

Was this about sin, then? She was Catholic and such things prayed heavy on the spirit. After all they weren’t married.

He opened his mouth to reassure her and then stopped. He wanted Lily, more than he’d ever wanted a woman. But how could he have her? How could he bring her back to New York and make her a laughingstock?

She met his gaze now, her expression hard and her eyes wise. She waited and then he recognized that she understood all this already, had worked it all out, while it was only just hitting him. He couldn’t marry her, not if he was to return to the life he left. Not if he was going to do as he promised and return
his mother to society and see his sister educated and well wed, to give them back the life they had lost. Was he a cad to still want those things?

And what about Lily? What did she want?

He’d taken a virgin. He had a duty to her now as well.

“I’ll marry you,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper as if that was all the breath he could muster.

Her eyes widened, but the lines about her mouth remained hard.

“What about your sister and your ma?”

“I’ll send them what money I can.”

“No, Jack. It’s a generous offer. But I’ll not cost you everything.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“They’ll never accept me.”

“I know that.”

“It won’t work. We’re too different you and I. And we want different things.”

He swallowed the lump that seemed to be rising like bread dough in his throat. His eyes began to sting.

“You’re smart, Jack. I don’t have to explain how the world works to you. Right now it’s only about you and me. If we go on, there’ll be a baby to reckon with.”

He nodded his understanding, taking a moment before he spoke. “I’m sorry Lily. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that.” She turned back to the fire, serving out his breakfast and handing it to him. He accepted the plate certain that he would not be able to swallow.

His heart ached with the grief over what he had done. Until Lily, he’d never had a female friend, one he could confide in. And now he had destroyed the trust and very likely their friendship. Lily should have been wedded and bedded by a husband who loved her, instead of being taken on a wild river by a man half crazed by lust.

If he had known it was her first time he never would have… It was a lie.

Jack felt his heart bleed with guilt and shame. He was a fool.

Lily packed up the camp while Jack set the sail. When she finally climbed aboard with Nala, she moved to the bow without looking at him.

He was about to push off, but instead he stood on the muddy beach, eyes on Lily, where she stood gazing out like the figurehead of a ship.

“Will we still be friends?” he asked.

Lily filled with a deep, welling sadness as she looked at him. Regret, she realized, for what she still wanted and could not have. “We’re partners until Dawson, Jack. Just as we promised. Now cast us off.”

He did, releasing the lines and pushing the boat off the bank, then climbing aboard.

If she had known that her choice to lay with Jack would include this hollow, dry ache, would she still
have done it? Lily stared out at the river scanning for obstacles. Here it was all so plain. She could see the dangers and move to avoid them. But with Jack, it was different.

It was not until they were sucked into Squaw Rapids, that Lily came from her musings. The surging white water forced her to focus on what was before her. Perhaps if she could just keep looking ahead, just as far as she could see, she could get through this.

She found the speed more exhilarating than terrifying. But the rush of water and blur of the shore did not make her forget Jack’s words.
You’re mine, now.
And afterward,
I’m sorry, Lily.
They played over and over in her mind. She had other regrets as well, among them she regretted her own stupidity at bringing such a wedge between them now when they needed to pull together more than ever.

Lily stared at the cliffs rising up from the rocky bank, her stomach churning like the water at its base. This was the passage that everyone feared and word was that there were many new graves on the banks beyond the canyon.

She looked back to see Jack turn the rudder, making for the bank. He’d said he would study the water from the cliffs and watch some others try to shoot the rapids before they took their turn.

It showed wisdom. Jack was a cautious man, usually, but not where she was concerned. Had she made
a mistake loving him? Her head said yes, but her heart longed to hold him again. If they didn’t reach Dawson soon she might fall back into the same trap.

They scraped the rocky bank. Jack left her to watch their belongings so he could hike to the portage on his scouting mission. While he was gone a smooth-cheeked Mountie came poking about.

He copied down the number they’d painted on the bow.

“You two planning to portage, ma’am?”

“No, we’ll run them.”

“No, ma’am. You’ll walk around. The boat can go through with the others.”

She’d said they had four men aboard, including her husband.

“But you’re required by law to portage.”

“Oh, well then, that’s what I’ll be doing, of course. I’d not want to break the law.”

“They can hire a pilot. We’ve a list of qualified men.”

“Hire? Oh, I’ll ask them to do so. Worth the money, I’m sure.”

“Better safe than sorry.” He tipped his wide-brimmed hat and marched off like a police officer. Most of her encounters with such men involved being told she couldn’t sleep here or rest there or dawdle on this corner—and here they were, still ordering her about.
Move along, move along.

Lily settled down to watch the river knowing she’d
do as she liked and no man, uniformed or otherwise, would tell her different, for this was her adventure for good or bad.

She understood the risks, but she’d not leave Jack blind on the most dangerous stretch of water from here to Dawson.

Lily turned her gaze to the river. All the men that passed looked exactly the same, grim and wide-eyed. She noticed one man, small, with a dark hat and full beard. Her Brooklyn tailor.

“Mr. Luritz!” She waved frantically and called again.

He turned and spotted her.

“Miss Shanahan!” He waved back. “I haven’t forgotten your dresses!”

She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Good luck!”

He waved again and then held on to his hat as the boat picked up speed. Lily whispered a prayer for him.

She watched until his flat barge disappeared, dropping from sight as if it had fallen off the edge of the earth. Lily wondered at the drop, for he had vanished, mast and all. The parade of crafts continued through the afternoon. Jack came back before dark. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

“It’s that bad?” she asked.

He nodded his head.

“Jack, I don’t like secrets so you’d best tell me.”

“I saw three boats go down.”

“A flat barge?”

Jack wrinkled his brow. “Yes. One like that hit the rocks and broke apart. But Lil, I saw two other barges make it through.”

Had Luritz crossed safely?

“Another craft capsized. They were all drowned. Seven men.” He shook his head. “Another took on too much water and sank. I hope we’re not overloaded. I’ve calculated the height of the sides, but I never saw water boil like that.”

“Mounties came by and took our number.”

Jack looked somber. “They told you that you needed to walk.”

She nodded.

“They’re checking all passengers, Lily, and they’re checking the boats.”

“Then I’ll need a pair of pants and a good hat.”

Jack stared a moment and then spoke in a low, scratchy voice. “If anything should happen to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Jack, you need me. I’m your eyes.”

“I don’t want you aboard.”

She glared. “I’m your partner to Dawson. You agreed.”

He tried unsuccessfully to stare her down and then nodded once. “All right. But if they stop you, you’ll walk.”

Lily had a horrible image of watching from above
as Jack struck a rock he did not see. But she accepted his hand and shook.

“Deal.”

He didn’t let her go. She didn’t pull away. The heat between them blazed anew.

“Jack?”

“It’s bad water, Lily. Real bad.”

She nodded and squeezed tight to his hand. “We’ll make it through. You’ve built the best boat on the river.”

His grin was lopsided, but his eyes remained troubled. She released his hand and hugged him. His arms came about her hard and fast, clasping her tight. She felt the tension in him and the strength. What would she give to be a New York debutante?

“We’ll make it, Jack. I just know it.”

She thought she felt him kiss the top of her head before he set her aside.

“’Course we will.” His eyes glittered.

Lily wondered at the horrors he’d seen this day and was glad she did not have those pictures bobbing about in her mind.

Lily washed and packed her gear as Jack scattered the coals on the rocks. Then he waited on the bank as she changed into a pair of dungarees that fitted her round bottom a little too snugly. The old work shirt was torn at the hem, but covered her curves. She tugged on a battered old hat and regarded him from beneath the brim.

“Well?”

Her skin was too fair and flawless to fool anyone at close quarters. But from a distance she might pass for a boy.

“Where did you get those?” he asked.

“Traded for them.”

He cast a disparaging look at her attire. “I think you were robbed.”

She stared up at him. “Ready?”

The Mounties checked them in a little farther down river. Lily stayed with the boat and kept her head down. Afterward they waited on the bank for their turn behind two canoes, an overloaded skiff and a barge complete with tent and stove.

“My, they’d never have to go ashore,” said Lily admiring the practicality of the craft.

“Unless the lashing fails and they break apart.”

They proved prophetic words, for the barge operator was clumsy and as Lily and Jack watched them from the bank they failed to make the turn after the landings, crashing immediately into the boulders before the 300-foot bluff of black basalt now directly before them. Lily gasped as the barge lifted, spilling the men into the water, their tent crumpling as the stove dragged it into the river. She could not hear the logs break, but she could see them separating like the stays of a fan as the goods fell through the cracks.