Prime Catch (26 page)
She patted his cheek. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to be married to a pauper.” They laughed as they exited the courthouse. They were done with this case.
Former sheriff Creag had been given to Mahoney in Cordova because apparently Creag had masterminded all the cannery murders, with George as his operations chief. Creag would have to stand trial eventually in Juneau, because it was the territorial capitol, but unless they had to testify, Amos and Sarah wouldn't be present.
The June sun had warmed the air to seventy degrees, a very warm summer day in Juneau, until the late afternoon breezes from the channel brought in the cooler air and fog. The glaciers on the mountaintops glittered like rare diamonds set in white velvet. Sarah loved this time of year. The warmth was so fleeting, a day like this was a treat in icy Alaska.
They unlocked the front door and entered their finished reception area. The blinds in the front window had been put up the day before, and the sunlight made bright stripes in the room when Amos pulled the string.
A stack of crates stood by the entrance to the two private offices, and Sarah sighed. “Well, with our desks and furniture delivered yesterday, we can load up the drawers and shelves.”
Amos dug into one of the crates of books. “This is going to take a couple of days.”
She swung one labeled “office supplies” into her room. “At least.” Straightening, she was aware of arms around her waist, and then Amos was kissing the back of her neck. Her body went squishy. “Longer, if we keep this up.”
Amos turned her to face him. “Quit talking, woman.” His lips claiming hers made her forget why she was protesting.
She pulled back. “I have to change into my work clothes. Care to help me?” Her summer dress fluttered to the floor. His hands were busy in back. She closed the office door as he shed his jacket and undid his trousers. The new oriental rug flamed under the baptism of fire that took place on it. She shattered and took him on a ride of fireworks. Then, spent, they held each other breathlessly as the office came back into view.
Amos gave her a hand up as he glanced at his watch. “Oh, damn, it’s almost time―”
“Hello! Is anyone here?” came a voice from the outer room.
“Just a minute!” he answered back while adjusting his clothes. In a lowered voice, “Get your work denims on. I’ll start the interview.” He slid out of the office to confront a red-haired, freckled woman with her arms crossed, watching him carefully.
She gave an amused smile. “You must be Amos Darcy. I’m Mary Flanagan, here for the reception and secretary job. I hope I wasn’t interruptin’ anything.”
“Oh―no. We were just―working on the office.”
How long had she been there?
He rummaged in a drawer at the reception desk and brought out a form, as well as pen and ink. “You can sit here and fill out the application.”
While Mary worked on the form, Sarah came out in her denims and plaid shirt. She looked questioningly at Amos, and he shrugged. When Mary was finished, Amos and Sarah brought two chairs to the desk and sat across from her.
Sarah held out her hand. “Mary, I’m Sarah Darcy. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, too. I kept up on what you were doin’ about the murder of Mr. Thornton at the cannery. That was some fine detective work.”
Sarah flushed. “Well, thank you.”
Amos perused the application while the pleasantries passed between the two women. “Miss Flanagan, why did you come to Alaska?”
She sighed. “There weren’t many people who would give a girl fresh from the old sod a decent job. I worked as a secretary back in Dublin, where I’m from. I’m a hard worker, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. You’ll not regret hirin’ me.”
Amos rubbed his chin. “Can you take dictation and type?”
Mary nodded. “Yes. I can do ledger bookkeepin’, as well.”
Sarah leaned back. “How are you at handling clients?”
“Friendly, but firm, ma’am.”
“How about keeping secrets?”
She grinned. “I won’t tell anyone what goes on in this office.”
A slight pink tinged Sarah’s cheeks, but she asked, “Do you have references?”
Mary opened her pocketbook and took out some envelopes. “These are from my job back home. Most in this country didn’t care. They didn’t want to hire an Irish girl.”
Amos took the papers and read them. “These are excellent references. The employers who wouldn’t hire you were a bunch of jackasses. Would you mind if Mrs. Darcy and I confer in one of the offices?”
Mary shook her head. “No.”
As Sarah closed the door behind her, she hissed under her breath. “I wonder how long she was here?”
“I was wondering the same thing.” He blew out a slow breath. “Well, what do you think?”
“I like her, and she’s been through enough. I know how she feels, how it was with those narrow-minded people.”
Amos now knew what a bunch of idiots a lot of Americans were. “I think we can hire her. Fifty cents an hour sound all right?”
Sarah made a face. “Can we afford that?”
He paused. “We still have some reserves left. I think we can.”
Sarah turned to go. “Let’s tell her.”
They told Mary what they’d decided, and she was delighted with the pay. “When do I start?”
Amos shook her hand. “Next Wednesday we plan to open. Be here at seven sharp.”
“And I’ll be here. Thank you, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.” She gathered her things together and flashed them a grateful smile before she strode out.
Amos started back to his office, then turned to Sarah. “What do you want to do this weekend, since this is our last free one?”
Sarah sashayed to him and purred. “I’d love to go camping with you, big boy.”
Her voice poured over him like warm molasses.
“Oh. Think you can handle being out in the wild?”
“I do it all the time. How about you?” Her body curled toward her office, but Amos snagged her hand.
“You keep this up, we’ll never get the rooms ready.” He dragged her back and kissed her thoroughly.
Chapter 28
The sun was burning off the morning fog as Sarah and Amos headed up Sixth Street with their backpacks and walking sticks on that glorious summer morning. The air was crisp and clean at five o’clock, and there weren’t many people out on a Saturday yet. The aroma of bacon wafted out of several houses they passed.
Turning on Basin Road, they followed as it curved up a tree-covered knoll. In the branches, they could hear the chattering of a Steller’s Jay against the
klok
of a raven that must have flown too close to the jay’s nest.
A few houses and cottages dotted the road on either side, until the road ended. Sarah led the way to the wooden bridge over the tumbling waters of Gold Creek. She pointed to the opposite side. “That dark green patch is an old avalanche scar. The plants come in a brighter green than around it.”
Amos chuckled. “That family of bears are enjoying it.” They watched as the bears tried out some tasty summer fruits. “I’ve been in Juneau a number of years, but I’ve never come this way. I’m glad you suggested it.”
Sarah started on the road that cut between Mount Juneau and Roberts Peak. Both had glistening glaciers on the top and dark green vegetation growing below. An eagle sailed off a cliff up above and glided over the creek.
About a mile or so along, they came upon the ruins of some old mine buildings. Sarah sat on a fallen log and motioned to Amos to do the same. “I thought we could take a break and I’d tell you about this area.”
Amos took off his backpack and took out some biscuits and water. “This obviously was a mine at one time.”
Sarah nodded. “Gold prospectors cut this road through the mountains in the winter and spring of 1881.”
He shook his head. “That must have been one hell of a job.”
“I’m sure. That place ahead is Snowslide Gulch. That’s where Joe Juneau and Richard Harris climbed to the top and looked down into Silver Bow Basin.”
“They were the founders of Juneau, weren’t they?”
“Yes. They started the gold mining there.”
They finished their biscuits and strapped on the backpacks once again. The trail went up hill, and in a few minutes Sarah heard the familiar roar of Ebner Falls. She grasped Amos’ hand as they stood at the edge of the path and looked down on the falls, the water cascading over the rocks seeming to come from the lush tree-covered basin.
He sucked in a breath. “That’s some view. Reminds me of the falls in Idaho.”
Sarah indicated the path going down. “That’s the way to Perseverance Basin. There are several clearings near the creek where we can set up camp. This is where my family used to come with my father and brothers to fish.”
They found a clearing under some hemlock trees where a steady breeze kept the flying pests at bay, and Sarah set up camp while Amos took his fishing gear down to the creek.
She put up the larger two-person tent and staked it. Taking the small spade, she dug out the fire pit and arranged stones around it. After gathering some fallen wood, she started a cooking fire and set the small iron grill over it.
Might as well make some coffee.
She emptied the rest of her canteen into the coffeepot and put it on a flat rock near the fire. Sitting on a nearby log, she watched the sparks flying in the air like manic fireflies when she poked at the flames.
A wistful tingle went through her as she remembered the many happy weekends she had come here with her parents and brothers, before the men in her family were taken. She and her mother would set up camp while her father and brothers provided the fish. A tear slid down her cheek. She missed them very much.
Sarah closed her eyes and let the breeze bring in the fresh smells of summer in Alaska―the green plants, new flowers, and the rich soil of the forest. Then a “halloo” broke into her reverie.
She gazed with love as her man came up the trail with two rainbow trout slung over his shoulder. She waved and then poured a cup of coffee for him, and he presented her with the fresh fish. She quickly had the fish cleaned and in the skillet over the fire. Adding herbs and salt, she poured in some rice and a can of tomatoes and sealed the pan with the lid.
Amos pulled out a bag containing several rolls Sarah had baked the day before. In a short time they had a feast fit for royalty. To top off the meal, Sarah had gathered wild berries earlier and smothered them in sugar. Crumbling some molasses cookies into a dish, she poured the berry syrup over them.
When Amos had polished them off, he sat back against a tree trunk. “I declare, woman, that’s one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”
Sarah giggled. “Thank my mother. She made this every time we went camping.”
After supper, they lingered in front of the campfire until the late June sun finally slipped behind the mountains. Amos took a stick and stirred the fire. “There’s something I want to know.”
Sarah glanced at him, puzzled. “What is it?”
“Do you still have feelings for George?”
She paused, then poured the dregs of her coffee into the pit, causing a sizzle. “Mostly disgust and some pity. Why?”
He stared at her and in the firelight seemed almost sad. “You must have loved him before, if you were going to marry him.”
Sarah looked down. “I guess I had a young woman’s yearning for marriage at that time, but now I no longer feel anything for him. I matured and found a man I could trust without wavering. Amos, I can truly say I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
He lifted her chin with his fingers until they were eye-locked. “That’s all I wanted to hear. Dance with me, woman.”
She smiled. “But there’s no music.”
He rose, pulling her up with him, and started singing, “Green grow the lilacs all sparkling with dew...”
They danced and sang through “Sweet Betsy from Pike” and “Clementine.” Around the flickering campfire, the gruff former sheriff and the lady Tlingit did a bright two-step.
A wolf howled in the distance, and an owl hooted its intentions, but the couple danced happily in the dappled shadows of the full Alaskan moon, their laughter and song wafting through the treetops.
A word about the author...
Ilona Fridl happily resides in Wisconsin with her husband, Mark, and a well-worn computer. Due to the popularity of two minor characters in
Golden North
, she gave them their own story.
Ilona is on Facebook and Goodreads and you can visit her site on the web at:
http://www.ilonafridl.com
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