Thomasâs good opinion of her would quickly change if he knew the truth. As would the opinions of those in Treasure Creek who had befriended her in spite of her standoffish attitude. Tears clogged her throat. She wanted so much to draw close to them all, to be a true friend to them, but friendship meant questions and confidences that she dare not invite.
Guilt, sorrow and regret formed a heavy weight in her chest, pressed down on her already aching heart. She did not truly belong with these good people. Certainly not with a man of faith and integrity like Thomas. She could only live on the fringe of their friendship, returning what help and service to them she could in exchange. She blinked the film of moisture from her eyes and stole a sidelong look at Thomas from beneath her lowered lashes. Perhaps she could help him with his missionary work in some way. Perhaps that would help atone for her past.
ALASKAN BRIDES:
Women of the Gold Rush find that love is the greatest treasure of all.
Gold Rush BabyâDorothy Clark, June 2011
This book is dedicated to editor Emily Rodmell,
who skillfully walked me through the process of writing a book in a continuity series. Thank you, Emily, for your patience and good humor in answering my many questions. And to the other authors of this Alaskan Brides continuity series, Allie Pleiter and Linda Fordâ¦what can I say? You are both very talented and gracious ladies. I count it an honor to have worked with you.
âCommit thy works unto the Lord,
and thy thoughts shall be established.â Your word is truth. Thank You, Jesus. To You be the glory.
Treasure Creek, Alaska, August, 1898
Her heart pounded. Her lungs strained for air. Viola Goddard ignored their screaming need, held the hem of her long skirt out of the way of her feet and ran on. Impervious to bumps and shouts, she dashed around and through the press of prospectors and townspeople on the board walkway, driven forward by the horror of the note crushed in her hand. The baby! Goldieâs father had trusted her to care for his baby and nowâ Please, God, let Goldie be all right! Please keep her safe until Iâ âOh!â
She crashed into a solid, lean body, bounced off and staggered back, trying to get her balance. Strong hands clamped around her upper arms, steadied her. Viola wrenched her shoulders, pushed against a hard chest. âLet me go!â
âSteady, Miss Goddard.â
Miss Goddard? Who⦠She looked up. The handsome man staring down at her frowned, tightened his grip on her upper arms.
âAre you all right, Miss Goddard? You seem distressed.â His green eyes darkened. âIs it the baby? Has her health taken a turn for the worse?â
Goldieâs health? A memory flashed. Thomas Stone. Yes, that was his name. He was the missionary who had brought the injured stampeder into the clinic, when she took Goldie in to be examined.
âYouâre trembling, Miss Goddard. Please, tell me whatâs wrong. Perhaps I can help.â
The concern in his voice squeezed at her throat. âItâs Goldieââ Fear choked off her words. âGoldie?â
She took a gulp of air, nodded. âThe baby. Sheâsheâs been kidnapped!â
âWhat?â
People near them on the street stopped, stared. A low murmur started, hummed against her ears.
Confusion leaped into the green eyes looking down at her.
âI found this in her cradle.â She bit her lip to stop a rush of tears, and shoved the ransom note at him. âDo you know where Mack Tanner is? Heâs not in his store and I have to find him. He hasââ His hand slid down her arm, tugged. Her heart sped. âWhat are you doing?â
âTaking you to the sheriff.â
The murmur grew louder. âLet me go!â Viola dug in her heels and pulled at his strong hand gripping her elbow as he ushered her down the street. Her resistance was no match for his strength.