It wouldn’t be long before it would be his.
What was his daughter doing out with a man like Judas Reynolds? Chris couldn’t wrap his mind around it. While he knew Reynolds was an old friend of the family, he also had heard of the man’s business dealings, and more than one miner showed their fear of the man and his temper. While no one said a negative word about the wealthy man who practically ran the town of Nome, there was an undercurrent of something shady that Chris wanted to explore.
Especially if his daughter was going to be involved with the man.
When he’d first come to Nome, he wouldn’t have had a problem with one of his girls making a match with the guy. What father wouldn’t want his daughter taken care of, provided for, and married to a powerful man?
But the longer he stayed, the more he watched Reynolds’s dealings. And the more he didn’t like them.
When they reached the farm, Chris hopped down and thanked Judas for the ride. He then held up a hand for his daughter, praying she would accept help from him.
But Judas held her attention. He said something to her in a hushed tone and then lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it.
Oh brother. It was worse than he’d imagined. What did the man want? Or was he in truth smitten?
Who wouldn’t be? Whitney and her sisters were the most beautiful women in all of Alaska. They took after their mother. God rest her soul.
Whitney turned and took Chris’s hand. As he helped her down, he studied her face.
A bit pale, but it was pretty cold out.
When she took a bit longer to steady herself, though, he held on to her hand.
Judas pulled away and turned the sleigh around to head back to Nome, and she lifted a hand in a wave.
“I think we need to talk.” Chris was not about to let this moment pass.
“I’m tired, Dad. Can’t this wait until morning?” Her voice was weaker than usual.
Maybe he should take compassion on her. “All right. How about after breakfast?”
“I forgot. I’ll be taking the supplies back out to the village first thing in the morning.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she headed to the house.
“You’re not going to feel like taking anything out anywhere in the morning.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Whitney. And you forget that I know the signs of drinking all too well.”
With a shake of her head, she stiffened. “You are mistaken, Dad. I have a headache. Nothing more.”
“Are you sure?” He kept his voice calm. He wasn’t angry. Simply wanted her to understand that he cared for her. No judgment. “There’s no need to lie to me.”
As he reached her side, her eyes shuttered. Closing him out. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dad.”
Dismissed, he managed a nod as she went toward the door. But he hadn’t missed the droop of her shoulders. “I love you, Whitney. I hope you’ll think about what I said.”
His poor daughter. Hiding her drinking wouldn’t do any good. But what would it take to get her attention?
God, please don’t let her fall as far as I did before she comes to her senses.
The shame and almost-ruin he’d brought upon his two families caused him to cringe. He couldn’t let that happen to his daughter.
No matter the cost.
FIFTEEN
Peter checked the temperature of another of the elders. As he wrote down the findings in his log, he saw many similarities to another epidemic that had killed too many of the Eskimo people from this region. He looked up at the walls of the small hut, and it seemed as if they were closing in on him, an inch at a time.
