Harper's Bride by Alexis Harrington Read Free Book Online

heard about did not extend to women, she realized. He was known
only to have a drink or two in the saloon with Rafe Dubois, or by
himself, and then go on his way. The few saloon girls and camp
followers who approached him were given a smile and sometimes a
tip, and nothing more, it was said. If he had dalliances with
women, he kept it very quiet. But as she walked beside him on the
duckboards, she sensed a raw, restless energy that was so powerful,
she quailed a bit. And whenever her arm brushed his on the narrow
walkway, she felt a peculiar quickening in her chest.
    But she forgot about Dylan Harper and
everything else on her mind when they turned the corner toward the
waterfront. Laid out before them was Wall Street, and beyond that,
Broadway Avenue. Thinking they would have escaped the crowd down
here, Melissa halted, amazed at the display that stretched for
blocks. Lining these streets were people selling all manner of
goods, and the throng swarming Front Street surged down here to see
the marketplace. It had the air of a bazaar, as vendors told of
their wares from every booth and tent. Patrolling the proceedings
were a few scarlet-coated Mounties.
    Although Melissa had been in Dawson nearly
two months, she had seen none of this up close. Everyone wanted
cash down here, Coy had said, and saw no point in going. The
display was astounding.
    "Lady, gentleman," a young man called to
them, "I have fresh grapes here, and tomatoes. Sir, how about a
glass of pink lemonade to refresh yourself and your wife?"
    "Oxen! Look at these fine beasts!" A
gap-toothed man pointed to a pair of sharp-horned bovines in a
small pen. "No hard overland passage for them, no, sir and no,
ma'am. They made the trip on a steamship and are ready for work in
the gold fields—"
    "Rifles, friends, and good ones, too! A gross
of them—one hundred and forty-four rifles for a dollar! Just a
token payment, they're almost free!" Of course they were cheap. It
was illegal to carry a gun in Dawson.
    "What price would you pay to save your
immortal soul from this greedy, godless place in the Arctic?"
thundered a man dressed in ministerial black. "I bring you Bibles,
God's own word right here, on sale for coin or gold dust—"
    Dylan took Melissa's elbow to guide her past
the displays of clothes, furs, jewels, opera glasses,
patent-leather shoes, dime novels, ostrich feathers, and complete
sets of Shakespeare with gilt edges. Against the blue sky, signs
flapped in the breeze over tents, advertising dentistry and medical
doctors, palmistry, and massage. There were dry goods and music,
fresh-baked bread and ice cream made from condensed milk—as of yet,
no dairy cows had arrived in town. There were seventeen-dollar
brooms and twenty-five-cent slickers. One man offered a rare,
recent copy of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer for fifty dollars—and
got it. Newspapers and reading material were scarce.
    And everyone called out about their goods at
the same time.
    "Mercy," she said, left nearly breathless by
the noisy commotion around her. Across the way a particularly loud
man's voice made her flinch. She had never learned to ignore a man
yelling.
    "Yeah, I hate crowds too," Dylan said, his
expression grim. "We'll find what you need and get out of
here."
    She clutched Jenny to her, and Dylan took her
elbow to guide her. Coy had always walked ahead of her and left her
to manage on her own. Although she could not ignore Dylan's size
and height as he towered over her, she appreciated his help.
    But she was still wary of him.
    "What are these people doing here? Are they
here because it's Saturday?" she asked, puzzled by the display.
Back home in the summer, she saw farmers come to town to sell their
crops on Saturdays. "They can't have come all the way up here to do
this."
    He gave a hard push to a mule that came too
close. "No, most of them made the same trip you did, to search for
gold. They dragged tons of this stuff over the mountains and down
rivers. And most of them