own antiquated ideas.”
“Antiquated ideas?” Lucas’s sense of humor returned and he laughed. “A man who owns a place like the Star of the North doesn’t have antiquated ideas.”
“You do,” she insisted, her brow drawn in obvious disapproval. “You’re the one who said, ‘Women never choose adventure or places like Alaska.’ That’s an antiquated idea if I ever heard one. You think that only married women would want to travel, and then it would be because their husbands made them.”
“Ashlynne, I do not—”
“You do so. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have assumed Ian and I were husband and wife.”
Lucas stared, wondering at this sudden quarrelsome side to Ashlynne’s nature, when she’d been polite, even distant before. Had her grief finally overcome her other emotions? Or could she be this angry because he’d misunderstood her relationship with Ian?
Worse, could the whiskey have begun to affect her mood?
“Here you go, sugar.”
Candy’s words and the scent of roses preceded her arrival by mere seconds. She swept up from behind him, carrying two steaming mugs that she placed on the table with a feminine flourish. She set one in front of Ashlynne and the other within Lucas’s reach.
“I didn’t want two,” he said, his voice sharper than it should have been. But…dammit! He wanted to end these moments with Ashlynne; he didn’t want her in the Star and he didn’t want to help her. He wanted her out of his life and gone from his memory, and plying her with whiskey or coffee would hardly accomplish that.
“I might have wanted something else,” put in Ashlynne, her voice decidedly grumpy. “But you wouldn’t know that—would you?—since you hadn’t the courtesy to ask.”
Who was she to chastise him? “You said you didn’t drink spirits.”
Ashlynne opened her mouth as though to argue the matter further, but Candy spoke first.
“You two can argue your differences on your own. One-Eyed Pete’s waiting for me.” She started to leave but then stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. She shot a pointed smile in Lucas’s direction. “Don’t forget, sugar. Just call me if you want…anything.”
Candy flounced away with a laugh, swinging her hips and tossing her head like a filly in heat. Lucas wanted to appreciate the sight, but he couldn’t seem to find his usual sense of admiration for her tonight.
“That woman is shameless.”
He glanced at Ashlynne and found her staring after Candy. Her brow was wrinkled with disapproval. He swallowed a weary sigh. “She’s a dance hall girl, Ashlynne.”
She transferred her gaze to him. “And a…”
“A what?”
“A…” She hesitated again. “A…prostitute.”
Lucas couldn’t help himself; he laughed again. “Well, yes, I suppose she’s that, too.”
Ashlynne snatched up her fresh cup and took a healthy drink. “I don’t know how you men can make light of such things. Prostitution is immoral—wicked! Why, this place—this whole town!—is immoral and wicked.”
“Then why don’t you go back where you came from and leave us to wallow in our immorality and wickedness?”
She took another, sizable drink, stared for a moment at the cup, then replaced it on the table with a new frown. “I told you. I don’t have a ticket or the money to purchase one.”
“I’ll give you the money.” The offer was out before Lucas could think better of it. But as the words echoed between them, he realized just how much sense it made. Ashlynne couldn’t afford to leave—and he couldn’t afford to allow her to stay. The piddling price of the fare back to Seattle or San Francisco would be a fair enough exchange for his peace of mind.
She, on the other hand, reared back as though he’d just suggested that she shed her clothes and dance naked on the tabletop. “Absolutely not!”
Lucas frowned, annoyed as much by himself as Ashlynne’s reaction. His offer had been honorable, and she had no business behaving as though it wasn’t. Worse, her current position drew every bit of his attention to her lush, completely feminine curves. His body noticed immediately, straining awake and reminding him, in fact, that he hadn’t put her attractiveness from his mind at all.
“What do you plan to do instead?” he snapped without a hint of sympathy.
“Well…I don’t know. But I have no intention of taking money from strange men.”
“I’m not a stranger. You know my name, after all.”
“That isn’t enough,” she insisted. Firmly.
“You should be relieved I made the offer. I didn’t ask for any…favors in return.”
“Mr. Templeton!” Her complexion paled and her eyes widened with apparent shock. When she spoke again, however, it was with a cool certainty that came as a surprise. “There is no chance that you would have gotten such favors from me,” she said stiffly, all but draining her cup.
Ashlynne sat back decisively, but then peered into the depths of her empty mug. She sighed and glanced up at him. “Why don’t you people have cream or sugar?” she asked with plaintive frustration.
Lucas blinked. Ashlynne’s mood seemed to be changing with nothing more than the ticking of the clock and it had gotten worse as the night had passed. He understood that her emotions might be unstable after the traumatic turn of events, but it seemed that the whiskey had only heightened her reactions.
“Cream and sugar are too expensive,” he answered carefully. “A person can probably find some sugar in Skagway if you’ve got the coin, but never cream.”
Ashlynne sighed again. “I think I hate this place.”
“So why not let me send you back Outside?”
“Outside where?”
“San Francisco or wherever you came from. Outside of Alaska.”
“Why didn’t you say that, then?”
“I did. Anyplace away from Alaska is Outside.”
“What do you call the beauty and grandeur of nature beyond these walls?” she demanded smartly as she waved to the room in general. Her spark, however, and her gaze seemed to be fading. “You can’t escape the wilderness in this place. I’ve seen that for myself.”
“That’s simply the great outdoors.”
“Cheechakos, Outside—you Alaskans have your own vocabulary.”
Lucas nodded, not that Ashlynne paid enough attention to notice. What she said was true, however. Most things about Alaska and Alaskans were different from elsewhere in the world. The disparities repelled as many people as they attracted.
Now, of course, the gold drew them, as well. Just as it had drawn Ashlynne and her brother. But the land, the elements and the hardy breed of both pioneers and Indians who had already settled this frontier were unforgiving. The wrong step could cost a man his life.
It had cost Ian Mackenzie his.
And what about his sister? What would she do now?
The world was a terrible place and the heavy thudding inside Ashlynne’s head was God’s way of proving it to her. She didn’t know enough about God to be certain, but she suspected what He wanted of her. It was what He’d always wanted of her—and what she’d always failed to accomplish. He meant for her to give up her headstrong ways, to learn to think before she acted, to trust others and to forgive them for their shortcomings.
She had never even come close to managing it. Now she couldn’t even consider