Page 65 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

“And the bears,” Brendan had added, and she nodded. During the summer, she’d seen a fat black bear eating berries in the meadow behind the cabin.

“And the bears,” she’d agreed, smiling.

They sipped their coffee in silence, and when an owl hooted outside—who cooks for you—they had both burst out laughing. A warmth had spread through Maggie like melting butter. She hadn’t been able to remember feeling so happy.

They’d chatted for a few more minutes, Brendan talking about his store while Maggie told him about Sheetka’s school and her own work at the hospital.

“I never thought I’d see so many cases of frostbite,” she’d remarked wryly, and his eyebrows lifted.

“You’re likely to see many more.”

“You really believe there’s going to be a rush?”

“I’d say a stampede,” he’d replied frankly. “Based on some of the gossip I’ve heard coming through from the miners that were already there.”

“Danny and Da must have made it to Lake Bennett now,” Maggie had remarked. “They’ll be building a boat.”

“If they went over the Chilkoot, they’d have had to travel it twenty or thirty times with all their supplies. I’ve heard if you go over the White Horse Rapids, you only have to do it a few times, since you can bring a pack animal. It’s more expensive, though.”

“Who knows what they did, then,” Maggie had replied. Her father, she knew, liked to spend money, but she hoped he wasn’t foolish about spending too much. “I just hope they made it.” She managed a shaky laugh. “I hate that there’s no way to know.”

“They might send word soon,” Brendan had told her, briefly resting her hand over his. “Dawson’s meant to get a post office soon, and miners come through all the time.”

“Not over the winter, though,” Maggie had replied practically. “It’ll be freezing soon.”

“Yes.” He’d nodded somberly. “Some miners brave the frozen rivers, though. If you’ve got a dogsled, it’s easier to travel the way the natives do. Some prefer it to all the mud.” He’d squeezed her hand once more. “You never know, Maggie,” he told her. “You might hear soon.”

Maggie had smiled back gratefully, although, in truth, she hadn’t been able to believe him.

As fall deepened into winter, Maggie didn’t hear anything. The leaves fell from the trees and snow dusted the ground that was now hard with frost, the mud frozen into deep ridges.

Maggie was too busy to worry overmuch. Besides working at the hospital and taking care of Sheetka, she had all the household chores that had once been shared by her brother and father—chopping wood, stoking the stove, meals and washing and simply keeping warm.

Brendan continued to stop by their cabin every so often, sometimes every few days, usually once a week. They were pleasant visits, sharing a cup of coffee by the stove, the sky endlessly dark outside, the hoot of the owl always making Maggie smile.

She started looking forward to those evenings far more than she knew she should, making sure the cabin was clean and there was something nice to offer him to eat, even when she didn’t know if he’d be coming. Sheetka, she could tell, looked forward to them too, her little face lighting up when theyheard Brendan’s familiar knock at the door—a rat-a-tat-tat that mimicked the hoot of the owl.

And then, in November, when the days were so desperately short, the nights endless and everything so very dark and dreary, six inches of snow already on the ground, Brendan told her he was leaving.

He came to the cabin just after dinner, when Sheetka was curled up by the woodstove and Maggie had gotten out her basket of darning.

“Brendan!” The wide, welcoming smile slipped from her face when she saw his grave expression. “What… what is it?” Had he somehow had news of her Danny and Da? Her stomach hollowed out and she clutched the door.

“It’s nothing like that,” he said quickly, reading her mind. “Don’t worry on your family’s account.”

She nodded and stepped aside so he could come in, bringing a gust of cold, clean air with him.

Maggie went to the stove to stir up the coals and put water on to boil, as she always did, but all the while she felt as if she were waiting for something.

Sheetka had given Brendan a welcoming smile, but she too sensed the mood, for her expression had turned as serious as Brendan’s.

“I’m leaving,” he told her bluntly once he was seated at the table, his coat and hat hanging by the door. “Just for a month or so. I hope to be back before Christmas.”

“Before Christmas!” Maggie turned slowly from the stove. “But where are you going?”

“Down to Seattle, for supplies. The prospectors are going to start coming this spring, and, if I’m right, it really will be a flood. Every miner will want to get his outfit here, because the prices in Mooresville will be sky-high.” He smiled wryly. “I’m hoping they will get it from me.”

“But it’s dangerous to travel by sea at this time of year!” Maggie protested numbly. She couldn’t bear the thought of him going—even though steamers ran all through the winter for mail and supplies, they sank or crashed in the winter storms far too often for her comfort.