man. Lucky was that way, too—trustworthy—but she’d much rather deal with Trig. Maybe because of his age. Living with Smitty had taught her how to relate with older men—younger ones were scary.
Lucky pushed off the wall. “A few days ago, I rescued you from becoming one of those women, and now—”
“I’m not one of those women,” she insisted, instantly angered by his assumption.
“Then start explaining.”
“Explaining what?” she asked more flippant than intended.
There were no sparkles in his eyes now. “How’d you get on the ship?”
Angering him more wouldn’t get her closer to her goal. She let out a sigh and shrugged. “In a barrel.”
“A barrel?”
She nodded, and refrained from explaining how she’d sneaked out of Mrs. Smother’s house every night—after long hours of being “educated”—and searched for a way to board the boat. Last night, when that barrel had sat at the edge of the dock with the moon shining down on it, she’d been convinced Smitty had put it there. She’d stayed nearby, hiding in the shadows until morning was about to break, and then after scratching the writing on the side, rolled it next to the gangplank and climbed inside. Holding on to the lid had left splinters under her nails she still had to dig out. Once it had been rolled on board, an experience that left her head spinning for hours, she’d sneaked out and hidden below deck.
Lucky rubbed his forehead. “You were in that barrel?”
Although he made no gesture, she knew exactly what barrel he was referring to. “Yes, I was in that barrel. The one you set upside down.” She then pointed out, “It clearly said ‘this side up.’”
“You wrote that?”
“I saw it on some of the other crates and barrels.” Giving him a steady stare, she added, “I assumed you knew how to read.”
“I do know how to read, even chicken scratches.”
Catching the insult, she went with her gut reaction and stuck her tongue out at him.
He laughed, and the night air seemed to carry the sound away in waves. She shot him a glare that told him just what she thought of his attitude and then turned to look out at the water. The moon was out—a huge orange ball in the middle of a twinkling sky. Its light cast a long yellow reflection into the water, almost in a straight line that ended right where she stood.
Maddie drew in a deep breath and wondered if it really was Smitty up there watching over her, showing her she was on the right path. She could almost hear the old man’s laugh, telling her it was him and that he was lighting her way. Smitty had his grumpy moments, too, therefore, young or not, Lucky’s ill temperament or his insults didn’t overly concern her.
He turned around and set both hands on the rail. Maddie didn’t look at him, but she did tell him, “I have to go to Alaska.”
“Alaska’s no place for women.”
The seriousness of his tone had her glancing his way. One of the other girls back at Mrs. Smother’s had asked about him, claimed he was handsome. She’d been young and said Lucky had rescued her the year before. Although Maddie had been focused on escaping, the other girl’s admission had caught her attention and Maddie had asked why she was still at Mrs. Smother’s place. The girl said training to become a proper servant took time, which had increased Maddie’s desire to leave. A year at Mrs. Smother’s would have turned her batty.
Right now, though, Maddie was supposing the girl had been right about Lucky. He was handsome, but she tried not to look at him because it made her cheeks grow warm. She turned her gaze back to the water. “But it’s a place for miners,” she said, “and that’s what I am. A miner.”
His silence said he didn’t believe her.
“I am,” she insisted. “I mined gold for over four years in Colorado. We didn’t hit it big, but only because our claim was paid out before Smitty bought it. We couldn’t move on, but with his guidance, I found enough to keep us going.” Determination stiffened her spine. “I’ll find it in Alaska, too, I know I will.”
“Who’s Smitty?” Lucky asked. “Your father?”
“No, he wasn’t my father.” Exposing her past was not in her plan. Yet gold was what she needed to put everything behind her, and Lucky was her way to gold. Considering that, she admitted, “I did pretend to be his daughter, though. In order to get the medicine he needed. That’s why I kept dredging gold, too.” Turning, lifting her face toward the moon that appeared even brighter now, she added thoughtfully, “Smitty and I were a team. Two people who didn’t have anyone else. We didn’t need anyone else, either.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died.” A strong and invisible power clenched her heart. She hadn’t wanted to leave before he died, but Smitty had made her. Said he didn’t want her waking up one morning and finding him dead. Therefore, he’d trekked down the mountain beside her, so weak he could barely stand, and in Cutter’s Gulch, he’d set her on the train, with boarding passes that would take her all the way to California. Inside, she knew he never made it back to their claim, the cave they’d used as a home for years, and someday, when she had the money, she’d return to Cutter’s Gulch, find his grave and place a huge headstone there, for the greatest man she’d ever known.
“Maddie?”
Blinking, she pulled her gaze off the moon and turned toward Lucky.
“I asked when Smitty died.”
She nodded, having possibly heard his question while deep in thought. “Last fall.”
“You’ve been alone since then? On your own?”
A lump filled her throat. “Being alone and on your own are two different things,” she whispered. Smitty wouldn’t want her focusing on the past instead of the future, so she tossed her head slightly, shattering dark and gloomy thoughts aside. “But now I’m on my way to Alaska.”
“Trig might have something to say about that,” Lucky said. “He laid out good money—”
“I know,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “Mrs. Smother informed me the captain paid for my stay at her place, my training, even the dress I’m wearing, and I’ll repay him every cent. I promise.” Taking a step back, she lifted her chin and pulled forth all the grit and determination Smitty insisted filled her. “I don’t want to be a servant. I want to have servants, and I will someday. I swear it.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t believe her, and that made her stomach burn. Before he could speak, she declared, “I know how to find gold. I know what to look for, how to pan. I’ve built sluices and rockers, and I—”
“But are you prepared to live in a tent, in the wilderness, with—”
“I’ve lived in tents, and caves, and dugouts. In the wilderness and on the plains.”
“You have?”
Nothing would stop her. Not her past, and not a man. “Yes, I have.
