Prologue
DAWSON CITY, YUKON
JUNE 1902
Adeline Byrant, or rather Moerman, since she’d been forced to marry Sam Moerman last year, tried her best to sleep. It was the wee hours of the night—her birthday, or it had been the day before. There had been a big party for her, and Sam had presented her with a gold-nugget necklace worth a fortune. She had felt the entire atmosphere of the party turn dangerous and threatening when Sam put that piece around her neck.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in Dawson City, Addie. You deserve to be covered in jewels,” Sam had whispered in her ear.
Addie had felt the weight of the necklace. It was like a chain that bound her to a life she despised. She wanted to say as much, but Sam had been mostly good to her, and she didn’t want to cause a scene.
She touched the place on her neck where the gold piece had lain. It was safely put away for the time being, but she knew Sam would expect her to wear it. She heard someone say it was worth one hundred thousand dollars, but she couldn’t believe that. How could any one thing be worth that much money? Addie rolled over and tried again to get comfortable.
Thankfully, Sam had still not come to bed. Probably working downstairs at the Moerman Gold Palace, which included a gambling hall, saloon, and brothel. Unfortunately, Addie’s suite of rooms was on the second floor, with many of the brothel rooms just down the hall, and the noise seemed to never die down.
She punched the pillow and flipped onto her left side. She had lived in the Yukon since her father and brothers dragged her north in 1898 during the gold rush. She’d been just fifteen years old and had no say over the matter. Just as she’d had no say in marrying Moerman. She supposed it could be much worse. When her brothers sold her to Moerman after the death of their father, they had tortured her, telling her she would have to work as a lady of ill-repute. Barely eighteen, Addie had tried desperately to find a way out of Dawson City, but she had no money, and even her best friend, Millie Stanford, couldn’t help.
But thankfully Sam was more impressed with her cooking skills and had bought her mainly to keep her baking and serving up meals for the gambling hall. Addie hadn’t minded that, except she wasn’t paid . . . at least not regularly. From time to time, Sam took pity on her lack of decent shoes or clothes and gave her money to buy herself what she needed. He was better to her than her brothers were. It wasn’t long, however, before he took advantage of her situation and forced her to be his mistress as well as his cook. Addie reluctantly gave in, knowing there was no one who could stop it from happening, and maybe as Sam’s woman, she wouldn’t have to endure being passed around to the customers. At least that had turned out as she’d hoped. In time, Sam married her, although to this day Addie wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe he was afraid of losing her to another man. Maybe he honestly cared about her reputation. It seemed unlikely, still . . . who could say?
As Mrs. Moerman, she had protection from the men who showed up begging to have her as their partner for the hour. Sam made it very clear that his wife was not for rent and that one of the other girls would have to do. But now, even a year later, Addie was still propositioned by strangers.
She gave a sigh and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Despite the hour, dim light filtered in from behind black curtains. Midnight sun was what they called it, but Addie had never quite gotten used to a sun that never really set in the summer.
She thought of when she’d first arrived in Dawson City and met the charming seventeen-year-old Isaac Hanson. They used to take long walks around Dawson. They would inevitably lose track of time, and Addie would get in trouble for showing up at home near midnight. It had been love at first sight, and in truth, Isaac was the only man Addie would ever love. When he left the Yukon for college, Isaac promised her he would find her again no matter where she went. He gave her a small tintype picture of himself, and on the back, he scratched out the words Remember Me.
Addie knew she would always remember him, even after being forced to marry Sam. Poor Sam. He knew she didn’t love him and never would.
Addie pulled the cover over her head and closed her eyes. She fell asleep almost immediately. Thoughts of Isaac put them together in her dream. They were walking along the river, talking about their future. Isaac had just said something when Addie felt her body being shaken awake. She opened her eyes and blinked hard. A lamp on the table had been lit, and Millie Stanford was beside her bed.
“Addie, wake up. Something happened.”
“Millie, what in the world are you doing here?” Addie rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Nearly five. Look, Sam’s been shot. There was a fight.” She paused as if perplexed.
Addie sat up. “What is it? Just tell me.”
“Sam’s dead.”
Addie was fully awake now. She threw back the covers. “Let me get dressed.”
She slipped into a navy blue skirt and gray blouse. Millie helped her do up the buttons in the back.
“Who did it—Hiram? Shep?” She named her brothers as prime suspects due to their well-known hatred of Moerman. They had once worked for him and been good friends, but after selling Addie to Sam, they thought they were due much more than Sam was willing to give. It made them enemies.
“No, it was a stranger in from the outer regions. I don’t know anything else. Jack was . . . visiting me, and we both heard the shots, so he dressed in his uniform and went downstairs to see what had happened. Then he came and got me so that I could break the news to you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that it was you and not someone else.” Millie had been the only person to make her life bearable when Addie was forced to change her living arrangements. Millie worked at the saloon and brothel, and Jack, one of the local policemen, was quite fond of her. He often commented about buying out her contract, and Addie had assured Millie that when the time was right, she would see to it that Sam did the right thing. Now he was dead.
Addie ran the brush through her long brown hair and tied it back with a ribbon. “I suppose I’m ready.” She headed for the door with Millie right behind her.
By the time Addie reached the gambling hall’s large open room, quite the crowd had gathered. She spied her brothers standing off to one side, and Jack and another policeman were standing near a blackjack table with the stranger.
Sam’s body lay in a pool of blood on the floor near the door. No one had even bothered to cover him. Addie steeled herself and went to Jack.
“Addie,” he said, nodding. “Sure sorry about this.”
“Thanks for sending Millie. What happened?”
“This guy said he was being cheated. Pulled a gun and threatened Sam, who happened to be dealing. Sam told him to put the gun away and leave. But he didn’t, so Sam started for the door and was nearly there, as you can see, when the man told him he wasn’t going to be cheated and shot him in the back.”
“He cheated me. I know how to play blackjack, and he cheated me. Dealt off the bottom for himself.”
Sam’s right-hand man, Bud, came to Addie. “Sure sorry about this, Mrs. Moerman. What do you need me to do?”
“Get Sam to the undertaker and have Joe clean up the mess.” She spoke with the calm of someone who had done this before, when in truth she had never had to deal with anyone’s death. Sam always managed the fights and killings. Dawson City was a dangerous town—especially when the Moerman Gold Palace was involved.