When Kali designed the tent, she had not been thinking of sharing it with anyone, especially not a six-foot-something man with broad shoulders and feet the size of snowshoes. She shifted, trying to figure out how she was going to find enough space in the dug-out hollow to lie down. For the third time, she adjusted her blanket, grimacing at a damp corner. Before leaving, she had worried about being too cold after dark; apparently, she should have worried that keeping the furnace running all night would melt nearby snow. Her next tent would be freestanding, not a lean-to designed to use the sled’s metal frame for support.
A dog yipped outside. Deep in the forest, a wolf howled in response. Low voices spoke nearby. Kali and Cedar had caught up with several sled teams after dark, and they were camping on a popular beach.
She shifted again, still looking for a comfortable spot. Her shoulder clunked against the sled, sending a jolt of pain through her. She spewed Hän curse words.
“Don’t say anything,” she told Cedar, who had been watching her with a bland expression that did not quite mask his amusement.
“What would I say?” He lay parallel to the sled, tucked into some fancy all-in-one bed-blanket-pillow he called a Euklisia Rug.
“Sorry for being so big?”
“My size is usually an advantage.”
“You must not share tents very often,” she muttered.
“Not often.”
Kali adjusted her position again, almost knocking their single lantern on the ground. She caught it with a lunge before kerosene could spill. Snow found its way onto her blanket. She sighed, scooping it off.
Finally, she settled on a spot, her back against the sled, knees scrunched to her chin. Though not comfortable, she did not know Cedar well enough that she wanted any of her body parts touching his body parts. They were both fully clothed, but she had known too many men who took such things as an invitation. Men who would ignore her in town, where there were witnesses ready to tease, got squirrelly notions out on the trail. And Cedar was watching her now, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Could you make your modifications to the loading mechanism on the 1873 work on the 1890?” he asked.
Kali blinked. All that thoughtful gazing, and he’d only been thinking about her ability to tinker with weapons? A stab of disappointment went through her. She squashed it. She didn’t want him thinking of anything else.
“Maybe,” she said. “May I see it? I haven’t taken apart one of the slide-action ones before.”
The rifle lay beside him on the blanket. He nudged it her direction.
She started out examining the firing and loading mechanisms, but ended up simply sliding a wistful hand along the barrel and running a finger over the inlays. Expert engraving decorated the frame on both sides. She held it to the lamplight. A floral scroll ran around the outside while a circle in the middle framed a tree. She squinted. A cedar tree? She supposed that made sense, though… “Who’s MK?” she asked, tapping initials. Given the value of the weapon, she wondered if he had taken it—through force, gambling, or theft—from someone else. Though his clothing and gear were high quality as well, and it all fit him.
“You don’t think my momma named me Cedar, do you?” he asked.
“What did your momma name you?” Maybe if she could get him to answer a simple secret, he would share others. Such as why someone who did not appear to need money was here working for her, possibly for nothing.
“The loading mechanism,” Cedar said. “What do you think?”
Kali sighed. So much for sharing secrets.
YOU ARE READING
Flash Gold (a steampunk adventure set in the Yukon)
Novela JuvenilEighteen-year-old Kali McAlister enters her steam-powered "dogless sled" in a race, intending to win the thousand-dollar prize and escape remote Moose Hollow forever. The problem? Fortune seekers and airship pirates are after her for the secret to f...