Where Heaven Begins - By Bittner Page 0,65

she might be dying, for it was certain he was walking away so that he could cry alone.

Chapter Thirty-One

He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.

—Psalms 107:29

By the second morning of their stay in the valley, Clint was all business again as they packed up to head for White Pass. Elizabeth tried to ignore the fresh graves in the distance when Clint went to get the now-rested horses.

Two other parties of men would join them, among them two men with bruised faces, swollen eyes and split lips. Obviously they were the two who had fought two nights before. Whatever the problem had been, they were jovial enough now.

“They were probably drunk that night,” Clint told Elizabeth on the side. “Men get a little crazy when they drink.”

“Yes, I know,” she answered teasingly.

Clint grinned rather sheepishly, and in spite of his better mood, Elizabeth could not help noticing how tired he looked, with circles under his bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t slept much in the last two nights, and she ached for him, wishing he would have let her hold and comfort him. She also noticed he grimaced several times as he loaded their supplies.

“Is your arm hurting you?”

“Some.”

“You should have let me tend to it,” she scolded.

“The muscle is just sore from being torn by that bullet. I’ve hurt worse.”

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of securing a rope. “Have you been shot before?”

“Sure. Comes with the territory.”

“Clint!”

“I’m alive, aren’t I? No sense getting upset over it now. Let’s just concentrate on getting ourselves over that pass. I have a bad feeling that I’d rather be shot again.”

Elizabeth finished securing the tent to Queen. “Are the horses going to be able to find anything to eat up there?”

“Probably not, once we get past the tree line. We just have to hope they can make it till we get down the other side.”

Elizabeth petted Queen’s neck. “Poor things. They’ve been so faithful.”

She looked up at the surrounding mountains as they headed out, several hundred yards behind the first party that left. As they trudged through the marshy land, several men who’d given up passed them going in the opposite direction, most of them wishing them luck…until what was left of the Faine party approached. They, too, had waited an extra day to leave on the long journey back to Skagway.

Elizabeth felt her heart pound when the four remaining men eyed Clint, warily and with hatred.

“You fellas have a nice trip back to Skagway,” Clint told them, tipping his hat to them.

He kept walking, and Elizabeth refused to look at any of them as they passed her by, muttering ugly remarks about Clint and Elizabeth. She told herself it didn’t matter what such men thought of her and kept walking, glad Clint had not heard the remark. He was too tired and hurt to be getting into a row with four men. After several minutes she looked back to see they were still walking, having already passed the party of men behind her and Clint.

For the entire day they climbed…and climbed, following a narrow mountain trail ever upward in an endless winding until it seemed they would surely reach the top of the world. By late afternoon they were walking in snow, and by evening the pathway opened onto a wide slope above the tree line where the snow was even deeper.

Here again was an area where many had camped. And again they found dead horses and dogs, abandoned sleds and supplies of all kinds. Crates of food were broken open, their remaining contents rotted. Some horse carcasses had been ripped to shreds by wolves.

Clint stopped. There was just enough daylight left to see the great, rising whiteness before them, with a well-worn pathway leading up between mountain peaks. A few men could be seen close to the summit. To see how small they looked only accented how long a climb it was.

“We’ll camp here tonight and make the climb tomorrow,” Clint told her. “I just hope the horses can paw through the snow enough to find a little grass to nibble on.”

Wind howled menacingly in the surrounding mountains, and the party ahead of them was already making camp. Another glance above alarmed her, for the black dots of men Elizabeth had seen just moments ago were gone, shrouded by what looked like a mean snowstorm. A sudden wind billowed snow into their faces.

“Let’s get the tent set up quick,” Clint told her. “Looks like we’re going to get