Free I do, I do, I do by Maggie Osborne

walking miles every day. You'll be colder than you've ever been. You'll be in danger of frostbite and you'll have to keep a lookout for bears. No one will coddle you. You'll have to do your share of the work. Does the journey still sound appealing?"
    Of course not. But who was Zoe Wilder to take such a superior tone? Or Clara Klaus, who looked at Juliette as if she had about as much substance as a lint ball.
    "Don't you worry about me! I can take care of myself!"
    Oh, my Lord. What was she doing? Instant regret nailed her to her chair. Her knees would not have supported her if she had tried to stand. All she could think was that someone else was speaking out of her mouth.
    Zoe shrugged and fished a notebook out of her purse. "This late in the summer, the waiting list for the steamers is shorter than it was, but still. We should get on the list first thing." She wrote a note, then studied Clara. "Can you be trusted to book our passage?"
    "I beg your pardon. I'm as reliable as the day is long," Clara stated angrily. "Who put you in charge?"
    "Do
you
know anything about Alaska or provisioning?"
    "I can learn."
    "Well, I already know!"
    "Continue, please. What else do we have to do?" Juliette asked. Her voice had risen an octave and emerged in a squeak. Her headache grew worse by the minute.
    "I'd suggest you walk up and down Seattle's steepest hills and strengthen your legs," Zoe advised, giving Juliette a look of doubt that irritated Juliette down to her marrow.
    "What else?" she snapped. If Jean Jacques could see her now he wouldn't recognize her. He wouldn't compare her eyes to shining pewter. He'd think of steel balls. And when she glared at Clara, Clara's skin wasn't beautiful as Clara had claimed Jean Jacques had said. Her skin flushed an angry scarlet that clashed with her hair. As for hair, Juliette didn't think Zoe's mass of hair looked like silk. What a ridiculous notion.
    "I'm sure my uncle Milton will sell us provisions at his cost. Nevertheless, passage and provisions aren't cheap." Zoe made a notation in her notebook. "Plus, we'll have to pay a customs charge when we cross into Canada. Can you afford to go?"
    "Can you?" Clara demanded.
    Juliette listened to the story of Zoe's reward. This time Zoe shared more details. "It must have been a substantial sum," she said at the end of the tale.
    "The Van Hootens are among the wealthiest families in King County, and Mr. Van Hooten was very grateful that I rescued his grandson. Plus I have a small nest egg." Zoe swallowed a sip of coffee. "But I won't have much left after this journey."
    Grudgingly, Juliette conceded it was courageous of Zoe to wade into the tide marsh and rescue the little boy. She wondered if she would have done the same thing in Zoe's place.
    For another hour they talked about what needed to be done and what they would take to the Yukon. Then Juliette excused herself and returned to her room. She clapped a damp cloth across her forehead, then dropped on the bed and stared at the ceiling with dulled eyes.
    Oh, lordy. She was going to the Yukon. The shock of it paralyzed her.
     
    Sun slid across the window of Wilder's Outfitting Company and reflected a sensibly clad tall woman with excitement glowing in her eyes. Clara could hardly believe it. In less than a week, she would sail to Alaska. This journey would be the most thrilling event in her entire life.
    Since her early teens she had catered to the needs of travelers on their way to strange and exotic places. San Francisco, Canada, Mexico, Missouri… But she had never been anywhere nor had she expected to go anywhere. Now everything had changed. She had observed the bustle and glory of Seattle and she would explore the mysteries of Alaska. It would be something wonderful to tell her grandchildren.
    The image in the glass sagged, and she watched her lips turn down. She would never have grandchildren because she would never have children because her husband was not really her husband after all.
    Pained