Bryony’s forehead creased, and small lines crinkled around the edges of her eyes. “Be careful. Please.”
Mikhail felt something thick lodge in his throat. “I will.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer than needed before he turned away and crept out onto the trio of trunks.
The wind was worse in the middle of the gorge, howling down the corridor in the trees and rock, but he kept his focus on the thick tangle of evergreen branches and began chopping away with his hatchet.
.It took him longer than he would have liked to clear the branches, and the sky was slowly darkening by the time he made his way back across the gorge.
Heath had started a fire while they waited, and Bryony had pulled leftover biscuits from her pack and shared them with the others.
“I want to cross now.” Mikhail grabbed one of the biscuits and took a bite. “We’ll make camp as soon as we find a decent spot, and that should put us at the river before noon tomorrow.”
It wasn’t quite the same as reaching the Iskut that night, but at least everyone would be safe. “Richard...” He nodded in the man’s direction. “You cross first.”
“Don’t you want me to carry the trunk?” Richard shoved the last bite of his biscuit into his mouth.
Mikhail drew in a breath. “Heath and I will do that, and we’ll go last.”
Richard frowned, something sharp flashing in his gaze. “Hoping I’ll fall when we get out into the middle, Amos? Is that why you want me to go first?”
“Quite the opposite. I want someone skilled waiting on the other side in case another person needs help once the trunks narrow. And don’t worry about falling. I intend to escort everyone across. Heath and I will carry the trunk last. He has the best balance. Bryony, you cross after Richard, but take off your skirt. I don’t want to risk it getting caught on one of the branch stubs. You can cross in just your trousers.”
Bryony’s face flushed, but she didn’t say anything as she opened her parka and fumbled at her waist, eventually releasing her skirt and stuffing it in her pack.
“After Bryony, Dr. Ottingford will go, followed by Dr. Wetherby. I want each of you to wait for me to come back and get you before starting to cross. And be aware that the wind is worse in the middle of the gorge, so make sure you keep your footing. If you feel like you might slip, sit down for a moment and steady yourself before continuing. Go as slowly as you need when you cross. Does everyone understand?”
“You and your rules.” Richard stifled an exaggerated yawn. “You’re the only person I know who can make walking across a few logs into something so tedious.” He swung his pack onto his shoulders and started for the bridge.
Mikhail followed, his jaw clenched. Did Richard have to fight him on everything? Couldn’t he just follow instructions this once, simply to make crossing the gorge easier on everyone else?
Richard hopped onto the outer log, then looked over his shoulder. “I don’t need you to walk across with me.”
“I’m walking across with everyone,” Mikhail gritted.
“Fine. Do whatever you wish.” Richard started across the log at a pace that was a bit brisk, but he didn’t appear to have trouble keeping his balance. Mikhail moved slower, following until Richard was about halfway across.
Then Richard stopped, his head angled downward as he stared at something on the far side of the gorge wall.
“What is it?” Mikhail inched closer. A gust of wind chose that moment to rip through the gorge, ruffling his hair and causing the giant tree to groan in the wind.
“Nothing,” Richard straightened, clamping his hand on top of his head so he didn’t lose his hat.
But he was still looking at that odd spot on the rock face. Mikhail moved closer, his eyes studying the gray rock until he saw the odd coloration on the wall. Two thick ribbons of milky white, with a thin metallic strip in the middle.
Gold. He wasn’t a geologist, but he’d seen gold enough to know what it looked like, knew enough about the wilderness to understand that it was often found in quartz, the milky white rock that surrounded the narrower metallic streak.
“Eyes forward, Richard,” he muttered, taking another step closer. “Keep moving.”
Richard looked over his shoulder. Time stretched between them as another gust of wind barreled through the gap in the trees.
The metallic strip might not be gold. At least that’s what he told himself. It could be fool’s gold. Pyrite was just as shiny and metallic looking.
But pyrite wouldn’t be encased in quartz.
Everything Richard Caldwell had been searching for, everything he’d hoped the man wouldn’t find, and he’d led Richard straight to it.
What would Richard do with this information? He’d file a claim the moment he got back to Sitka, but then what? Just how soon would a mining company set up operations? If the gold was on the surface, they’d rip off the face of the mountain, creating a giant, hulking pit that would one day contain little more than dust and debris. And if the vein was underground, how deep into the beautiful, untouched wilderness would they burrow to make a handful of investors in Washington, DC, filthy rich?
