Free Jenna Kernan by Gold Rush Groom

shrouded in darkness but still looming before them all.
    “I should think that would keep order,” said the rangy one.
    “That ain’t all. He was turned back because he didn’t have the one ton of gear they’re requiring to pass.”
    “What?” Lily’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why?”
    “And they’re checking food supplies. If you ain’t got a year’s worth of grub, back you go.”
    Jack and Lily exchanged a long look.
    “It’s to keep men from getting up in those mountains and starving to death, I’m sure,” said Jack. “It’s sensible.”
    “Well, we’ll not be turned back,” said Lily.
    Jack was growing to like that stubborn set of her chin and the fire in her eyes. The gal was full of piss and vinegar and he was starting to believe that having her as a partner might not be the worst he could do.
    “How you planning on getting that grub?” asked Cincinnati.
    “You said the grave digger turned back, didn’t you?” asked Lily.
    He nodded. “After his first trip up them Golden Stairs.”
    “Then others will, as well, and they won’t want to haul their gear all the way home, will they?”
    And damned if she wasn’t right. As he set about the labors of carrying his gear to the summit one painful load at a time, Lily inventoried what they had and assembled what they lacked, a collection that nearly mirrored the list the Mounties recommended, including 150 pounds of bacon, 75 pounds of raisins and 400 pounds of flour. Then she paid a Chilkat Indian hauler to carry everything to the top, whereshe waited, just past the checkpoint, guarding their belongings as Jack made trip after trip with his gear.
    It took Jack ten days to finish the last climb up the fifteen hundred steps cut into the ice and snow, wearily dragging himself along the guide rope with the rest of the stampeders. The line of men groaned and sighed, heaved and swore up the thirty-degree incline. Many turned back and each one that did gave Jack more determination to be among the ones to reach Dawson.
    “That’s the last of it,” he said, sinking beside Lily on her canvas tarp. “I’d have been here sooner if I had a partner who could carry.”
    “If you had a partner who could carry, he’d have been dragging his own gear up the pass, not yours. I saw my gear delivered and without you lifting a finger, plus the food stores those redcoats required.”
    Jack looked at her gear which had returned to its original size, meaning that she no longer carried the food. “Where is it?”
    “Jack, you can barely manage your working model and I don’t want to overload the sled. I sold most of the food.”
    “Did it occur to you that you might need it at Lake Bennett?”
    “It did, but money is easier to carry.”
    “Supplies will be more dear.”
    “In as short supply as women, I wouldn’t wonder. Imagine all those clothes falling to ruin and all thosehungry men, desperate for a hot meal and a bit of entertainment.”
    “You should have asked me.”
    She handed him a biscuit and coffee. “Yes, I should have.”
    Her contrition and the food melted his ill-humor.
    Lily narrowed her eyes on him. “Do you want your half of the money now or at Lake Bennett?”
    Jack disliked handling money. “You keep it for now.”
    She tilted her head. “You sure?”
    He nodded and Lily shrugged, setting about the process of making their supper. After a while she handed him a plate.
    Jack accepted it gratefully. He’d not had to cook a thing since he’d hit the beach. It made him feel guilty for his temper over the food supplies.
    “I’m sorry I was short with you, Lily. The money’s yours, not mine.”
    “Some of it maybe. But some I earned since we were together. That means you get a say in how we spend it.”
    He took a forkful of beans, chewed and swallowed, then nodded. He helped her clean the plates with snow and packed the kitchen box. She gave him a wary look at first, but allowed him to do as he liked. After supper they settled with