Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [174]
But for weeks she’d been aware that Jack hated and despised One Eye, and it would be wrong to try to make him stay purely for her sake.
‘Out to Bonanza.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s plenty of work there.’
‘But it’s such a very hard life,’ she protested.
‘Not as hard as bowing and scraping to old One Eye,’ he said with a grin. ‘I’ll come back when the ice breaks up in spring, and if some rich and handsome man hasn’t claimed you by then, maybe we’ll both be ready to go back to the Outside.’
Beth smiled weakly. She could tell by the glint in Jack’s eye that he was actually savouring the idea of working out at Bonanza. He had never been afraid of hard work or rough conditions, and he had more in common with many of the miners than he did with the gamblers, parasites and toffs here in Dawson. It was only Theo’s influence that had got him into being a bartender, and in reality he was worth far more than that.
‘I’ve no interest in any more love affairs, but I know I’m going to miss you terribly.’ She reached out to hug him. ‘Take care of yourself, and send notes with someone so I know how you are.’
Jack left two days later with a miner called Cal Burgess on his dog sledge. Beth went down to the frozen shore to wave him off, smiling brightly even though she wanted to cry. The malamutes were barking furiously and straining at their harnesses to go. When Cal jumped on the back of the sledge and gave the dogs their signal, they leapt forward eagerly.
Jack turned, his face half hidden in his wolf fur-lined hood, his mittened hand raised, but she guessed by the straight line of his lips that he was worried about leaving her.
It had been terrible when Theo walked out on her. She felt exposed, humiliated and that her hopes and dreams were shattered. But she had been able to pick over the bones of their relationship, list his many faults and past failings, and see for herself that he’d always been out for the main chance. She really ought to have known better than trust him implicitly.
But there were no such feelings to counterbalance the sadness she felt at Jack moving on. Hardly an hour went by when she didn’t miss him. When she made the first cup of coffee of the day, she’d imagine his sleepy morning face with a dark rash of stubble, breaking into a smile as she woke him. Later, when the saloon was open, she’d remember how in quiet times she used to sit up on a stool by the bar and chat to him as he cleaned the shelves and polished glasses.
There were the jokes they shared about customers. Jack could convey a message to her about a very large nose, a speech impediment, a compulsive liar or any other defect, with no more than a smirk or a raised eyebrow. Sometimes they couldn’t contain their laughter and had to duck down under the bar or rush out to the back, for fear of being asked for an explanation.
But it was in the evenings that she missed him most, for they had always gone to get supper together around six. She would change and do her hair when they got back, and later, when she walked back into the saloon to play, he’d give her a wolf whistle. He was always there, always admiring and supportive, always the friend who never let her down. He had been ready to talk at any time, night or day, and happy to sit in companionable silence too when that was what she wanted.
When she looked back, that was the way it had always been. If he hadn’t fired her up to go to Heaney’s, maybe she would never have played in public, but found a job in a store. He didn’t falter when she jilted him for Theo, and despite all the girls he’d had, and there had been many, he’d never let them come between them.
He gave her strength and consolation when she lost her baby and took control of everything in Skagway. He had got them up the Chilkoot Pass. He’d shared her grief at losing Sam, and understood how she felt about Molly’s death. He’d even shared her hurt when Theo ran off.
But now he was off to have a life of his own, and however much she missed