Page 9 of The Gold Rush Bride

“There is something we need to discuss.”

She rested her forearms on the table and then clasped her hands. “What would that be?”

“Our wedding night.”

She reared back in her chair. “What? Wedding night? What do you mean?”

CHAPTER3

Sadie tried to calm herself but was having difficulty. She fisted and unfisted her hands, wishing Barnaby’s neck was between them. “We are not having awedding night,” she hissed. “We are married in name only.”

“Will you keep your voice down?” He frowned and looked around.

Her gaze darted around the room. No one seemed to pay attention. She leaned forward. “We are not having a wedding night. Period.”

“Look. We’ll head out as soon as possible after breakfast, but in the meantime, you have a room for the night and I mean to stay in it, as your husband. You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor. At least it’ll be warmer than usual.”

“I intend to take over my father’s lodgings when we get to our claim.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Just what do you think your father’s lodgings comprise?”

“Well, I assume there is a tent and a cot with blankets, perhaps a fur for warmth.”

Barnaby shook his head. “We shared one tent, though there are separate cots. When we started out, we tried to save as much weight as possible. With only our two backs and hand sleds, it limited how much we could carry. We brought what we could to Dawson City and then went back to the Scales on the other side of Chilkoot Pass for the supplies we had to leave behind.” He leaned forward and placed his head as close to her as he could. “That’s five-hundred miles each way. You were lucky, Sadie. They have the tram now and I assume you had enough money to pay the fare. As you know, you can’t cross into Canada without one year’s provisions or the money to buy them. That’s two-hundred dollars. How many of those men do you figure had that kind of money to throw away? Only a few.”

She nodded, but whispered. “I’d have given him the money.”

“Don’t you get it? He didn’t want your money. That’s why he was here.”

She stiffened her back. “I took the tram, and I have a horse and a sled. So, what? And, yes, it’s true about Canada, and I made sure to have the proper amounts of everything according to their list. So, what? You have one tent, one stove. What else?”

“We had one set of pots and pans, one hatchet, one whip saw, an axe, well, you get the idea.”

“Yes, so we’ll have to share. I have no problem with that and with my fresh supplies, you will probably have better meals than what you’re used to of late.”

The waitress returned with their meals. “Here you are.” She set them on the table along with a loaf of bread. “Enjoy.” She hurried to the next table to take their order.

Barnaby broke off a piece of bread and took a bite.

Sadie followed suit. The bread had a unique, kind of tangy flavor but was very enjoyable. “What is this? It’s good, but I don’t recognize the flavor.”

He dipped a chunk in the stew.

She figured that was because she saw no butter. “I guess I shouldn’t ask, but is there butter?” This was all so different from home. She’d never been without. Their table had always had butter and everything else she wanted. Even without her mother, her father had seen to her needs. She missed her father. Even though he’d been gone from her physically, she always knew he was alive and that he would be returning to her. Now, he never would. Tears filled her eyes. She had to close them before the tears rolled down her cheeks and she’d sob.

“Did you see any cows on your way here or after you arrived?”

Realizing Barnaby was talking to her about the missing butter, she sniffled. “No.”

“Then you have your answer. They can bring butter in, but it’s ten-dollars or more a pound. It’s not worth the weight to carry it over the pass or pay the tram fee for it. As to this,” he held up his piece of bread. “It’s sourdough. It doesn’t need yeast and you can keep the starter for years, if needed. You just feed it every once a week or after each use.”

“Feed it?”What could he mean? Feed it like an animal?

He nodded. “Just add some flour and water to the starter and it will last forever. At least ours has.” He took a bite of the gravy soaked bread.

She lifted her brows and tore off another chunk of bread. “Ours? You bake?”

He shook his head and barked out a laugh. “Not me. Your dad.”