Gold Rush Groom - By Jenna Kernan Page 0,3
vicious wave crashed into his goods, washing away his indignation. He scrambled to keep hold of his possessions. The ten-foot tidal wave had made half the distance to the shore, rolling a hundred yards beyond the steamer. Lily hoped they had placed the vessel on a long line. She’d seen similar tides take down ships even larger than this one.
“Come, Nala.” She placed a hand on her dog’s harness and her hound rose.
“A trade,” he offered, his voice tinged with desperation. “I have goods.”
She turned away.
Damn him and his ten-dollar words. Liability, my ass. Doubtful he’d keep his word anyway. Few ever did. Lily gripped Nala’s harness and started off. She had wasted enough time.
“Wait!”
She didn’t, making him run after her.
He blocked her path, wet to the waist and panting with the exertion of keeping what was more than any one man had a right to hold.
“Be reasonable,” he begged.
She laughed, making no attempt to hold down her brogue. “To hell with dat!”
Another wave hit, cresting her boots. It swept away one of his boxes, taking it too far for him to recover, but he tried, rushing into the surf to his knees, preparing to dive and then thought better of it. That showed some sense. Water this cold could cramp the muscles of even the strongest swimmer. She bet he could swim. Probably had private lessons in a pool in Newport. She had learned when her brother had thrown her off a pier one hot July afternoon.
She watched his shoulders droop.
“You need dat?” she called.
He glanced back. His entire face had changed. He looked like a man standing beside an open grave.
“I can’t succeed without it.”
“If you take me to Dawson, I’ll get it fer ye.”
He glanced at the box, already twenty yards out and drifting fast. He shook his head in bewilderment. “Yes. I will.”
“All the way to Dawson?” she clarified.
“Yes!”
With speed born of practice, Lily released Nala’s harness and pointed at the box. “Fetch, girl.”
Nala barked excitedly and charged into the surf. The dog’s webbed feet helped her swim and her thick oily coat seemed impervious to the icy water. Lily stood beside the man, watching her hound cut through the breakers like a black swan, reaching the crate and gripping the edge in her powerful jaws. Nala had it now and Lily knew she’d not let go. In only a few moments the dog had the box ashore and was dragging it over rock and mud with the determination of a St. Bernard making a rescue.
He turned to her, his smile bright with excitement and relief, pinning her with his whiskey eyes. She felt her stomach flutter for the second time. Sand clung to the wet fabric of his new clothing making it look dirty and worn. She took in his disheveled hair and wide flaring nostrils, and realized what was happening between them. Lily tamped down her rising desire. She’d sooner drink seawater than fall for a charmer.
So why did the hair on her neck rise up?
Nala barked excitedly, breaking their trance. The Newfoundland cross frolicked beside the rescued crate, justifiably proud of her accomplishment.
Lily’s eyes narrowed on the man. “We have a deal?”
He nodded.
“And in return, I’ll look out for you all I can, even after we hit Dawson.”
He smiled indulgently, as if he thought a woman could be of little assistance, but offered his hand. She eyed it with suspicion. It was big and broad, the kind that could break a woman’s jaw with a moment’s carelessness. She pressed her lips together and extended her hand. Long fingers wrapped about hers, cold as seaweed, yet still her stomach fluttered as if just awakening from a long sleep. Lily stepped back from the threat she recognized too late. He felt it, too; she knew it from the new speculation now glittering in his startling eyes.
Suddenly her decision to cast her lot with this stranger seemed more dangerous than the trip to Dawson, because the menace he posed was far more immediate. She knew a man like this could cost her everything. Well, she’d not allow it. She drew herself up, resisting the pull between them as she moved to stand beside her dog even as she eyed him. This was the one she feared would come, the one her mother had warned her about, and she’d just convinced him to spend six months with her as his partner.
Chapter Two
Jack Snow rested one hand on the final crate and stared out at the water that