Gold Rush Groom

chapter Fifteen





The following Saturday, Lily peeked through the curtain again, looking for Jack. She could not keep herself from checking every few minutes. As her music started and the curtain was pulled, he still was not there. The crowd erupted in cheers as Lily scanned the corners for sight of him, desperate as a castaway searching for land. She forced a smile and began her songs, performing the dance steps she had added, feeling low-down and blue. The audience did not seem to notice her false face as she held out hope until the very last number.

Still he didn’t appear.

She called herself a fool as she gathered up her wrap and muff. But by slow degrees Lily’s hurt feelings dissolved into concern until she couldn’t shake the worry. He’d said he’d come and he hadn’t. Jack might have done her a bad turn, but he’d kept his word on every occasion but this one. She knew she should go back to her room and go to bed, instead of contemplating a trip upstream in the middle of the night. But she found herself gathering up her sacks of gold and offering one to Bill Connor, a stagehand and bouncer. He had a lazy eye and wide shoulders, perfect for digging, but on reaching Dawson, he’d found he had a morbid fear of closed spaces and so was unable to hire on with any of the mining operations.

Bill was married to a pretty laundress named Babe, who Bill said made a fine living running her dirty water over a greased board to catch the gold dust that clung to their duds. Bill was smitten and Lily knew she’d not have to worry about any shenanigans when she was with him.

She held up one of the pouches of gold she’d collected from the stage. “This is yours if you take me downriver to Bonanza Creek.”

Bill asked no questions, but pocketed the bag. “I’ve got to tell Babe. She’ll be expecting me.”

“Meet me at my place afterward.”

He nodded.

“I’ll walk you home, then go tell her.”

Lily could not push down the feeling that something was wrong as they headed to Jack’s claim. The timing was bad and they had to make their way in darkness, as the sun now disappeared for twelve hours and would not be up until after seven the next morning. The miners who had not come to town were all asleep, so Bill paddled undetected past the claims that lined the narrow creek.

Nala greeted Lily when she was still half a mile out. That she had wandered so far afield did nothing to ease Lily’s growing concern.

Nala barked as Bill grounded the canoe and then hopped aboard before they continued on their way. Lily now urged Bill to greater speed as her worry turned to panic. It seemed to take hours to reach Jack’s claim. At last the bottom scraped mud. Nala leapt from the boat, barking and cutting back and forth. The minute Lily had her feet, her dog was pushing her along. Lily did not need the urging. She lifted her skirts and ran.

“Jack!”

She arrived at his empty cabin, breathless and with a burning stitch in her side.

“Jack!”

She called again, to no avail. Nala barked from the mouth of the tunnel and then disappeared into the darkness. Lily’s stomach dropped.

“Bring the lantern,” she called to Bill.

Together they entered the tunnel, but as Lily continued, the light did not. She turned back.

“Bill?”

“I can’t go down there, Lily. I’m sorry.”

Why had she brought a man who was good for nothing belowground? She dashed back to snatch the lantern from him.

“Wait here.” Lily left him, hurrying into the cold earth, holding Nala’s collar, pressing her fingers into the solid reassurance of her thick coat and warm skin. “Jack!”

Her voice echoed off the icy corridor. Please let him be alive.

Lily came to the steam engine and pressed a hand to the boiler. It was cold as the grave. Before her lay a pile of uncollected gravel. She fingered the dirt, finding it had not yet frozen solid. Hoisting the light she searched the ground, seeing the wall before her that marked the end of his work. Where was he, still back in town, at some other saloon or with some whore at the edge of town? Lily cursed herself for a fool.

“Jack?” she whispered.

Nala whined and began to dig as if in a rabbit hole. Lily stepped forward onto the pile of gravel. Something moved beneath her feet. Lily shrieked as she stumbled back. She lowered the lantern and saw that what she first thought to be a rock was Jack’s boot heel.

Lily cried out, laying the lantern aside as she fell to her knees and began digging with Nala. After a moment she had exposed his leg. Her brain began to work now, the panic lifting.

“Find his head, you fool,” she muttered.

Lily recovered the lantern and climbed the pile of debris. From here she could see that by some miracle his shoulders and head were not buried.

“Jack!” She ran to him, laying the lantern beside him and brushing back the gravel that covered his hair and neck.

“Lil?” he whispered. “Knew you’d come.”

She stroked his cheek. “What have you done to yourself?”

“Pinned. Can’t move.”

Sweet Mother of God, was he paralyzed? Her heart hammered as she called her dog and together they dug.

“Bill! Get down here now!”

He didn’t. She kept digging.

“Go to the next claim,” she hollered. “Get help. There’s a man buried here.”

“I’m going!” came the reply.

Lily dug with her bare hands, scratching and clawing.

The digging caused more gravel from the top of the pile to slide into the place of what Lily had removed. Gradually she gained ground. She had part of Jack’s back exposed when she heard the voices. Nala left her and a moment later two lights bobbed down the tunnel.

“What in the name of heaven?” said one, pausing at Jack’s machine.

“Help me!” cried Lily.

They set to work with shovels and cleared the gravel from on top then hauled Jack roughly from his self-made tomb.

“Careful. He might have broken bones,” said Lily, but they already had him up.

Jack’s clothing and body were caked with mud and grime, but he was free. His eyes fluttered shut as he went limp between the two rescuers, who each held one arm about their own shoulders. Lily shrieked and wrapped her arms about his middle. He didn’t rouse and his body was cold as ice, but the steady beat of his heart caused a wave of such relief she thought her own knees might give way.

“We need to get him out, ma’am.”

Lily released Jack and followed the men up the tunnel. Jack’s legs dragged along the ground. Lily broke out in a cold sweat, fearful he’d broken his spine. By the time they’d reached the mouth of the tunnel, his legs were working, but he still sagged heavily on his human crutches.

Lily now preceded the men, directing them into the cabin, where they lay Jack out on his bed. Lily took charge. “Bill, get a doctor. Don’t come back without one.” She pointed at the men. “Clean water, you.” She pointed at the final man. “You, lift him up a bit, so I can strip him out of his clothing.”

Jack groaned as she carefully peeled off the filthy attire. His skin was pale beneath his clothing and thankfully completely devoid of any blood, though his back and thighs showed large purple bruises. The first miner returned with a full pail, just as she finished wrapping Jack in her fur-lined cloak and his wool blanket.

“I need a good fire to heat the water and warm him. Does he have a pot?”

“He’s got a gold pan,” said the second. “That’s what I use for washing and vittles.”

Jack opened his eyes and smiled up at her, then winced. “Knew you’d come.”

“Oh, Jack.” The tears she’d contained spilled out.

“Saturday night then?”

She nodded. “Lie still, Jack. The doctor’s coming.”

Lily could barely breathe past the panic. What if his ribs were broken or he’d crushed something inside? What if he were bleeding inside right at this very moment? She swallowed hard as her vision blurred and tears splashed onto Jack’s face.

His eyes opened. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.” She dashed away the evidence and pressed her palm to his forehead. He was so dreadfully cold.

She glanced behind her to see the men both working over the stove, trying to get a fire started. Lily lay over Jack, pressing herself to him as she vigorously rubbed his arms.

After a few minutes his shivering began. The tremors were terrifying, spastic contractions that wracked him until he shook like a dead squirrel in the mouth of a hound. Throughout, Lily clung to him, waiting for the fire or for her skin to warm him. When the fire was good and hot, the men carried Jack to his only chair, setting him close to the heat.

Lily sat on an overturned bucket beside Jack to be sure he wasn’t burned.

She heated water in a metal basin and when it steamed she added sugar and held it to his lips, tipping the cup as he drank thirstily.

His hands stopped shaking and he managed to hold the second cup himself.

“How long, Jack?”

“Ceiling came down Wednesday morning.”

“Should have froze, I expect,” said the first miner.

Jack looked up. “Hello, Nate. Likely would have, if Nala hadn’t lain on top of me. Never left me.” Lily recalled Nala coming to meet their canoe and wondered over it. Jack nodded at the other miner. “Daniel. Thanks for coming.”

“What’s that thing in your mine?” asked Nate.

“Something I’m working on,” he said.

Lily’s eyes narrowed on the man, her protective instinct engaging as she rose.

“He needs rest now. Thank you both.” She hustled them back toward their claims.

“Call if you need us,” said Daniel, doffing his hat. “You’re even prettier close up, Miss Lily.”

She gave him a smile and shooed him off, returning to Jack as quickly as possible. When they were gone, she hurried back to his side. He offered his hand and she clasped it, pressing his palm to her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed. He was here. He was safe and that was all that really mattered.

Lily stayed by his side, pouring hot coffee into him and keeping the fire going, until the doctor arrived. He checked Jack over and announced that his ribs were bruised, not broken and his body battered, but intact. The doc said the worst of his troubles came from lack of food and four days without water.

When he said that Jack should have died from dehydration, Lily cried again.

Before the man was even out the door, Lily was cooking. She made biscuits with gravy and Jack ate nearly a pan full. She helped him to bed and watched over him while he slept. When evening found him still sleeping, she crawled under the blanket and lay beside him. He roused enough to draw her into his arms, press his nose to her hair, inhale deeply, sigh and begin to snore for the first time. Lily felt herself relax. He would be all right. But what about the next time?