Bryant shook his head slightly. “I don’t deserve your friendship.”
“But you have it.”
His eyes seemed suddenly heavy. “For now. Thank you.”
“Wha—?”
But Bryant had already about-faced, leaving Jacob in the alley.
Despite the urge to pin Bryant to the wall until he confessed every last trip to the saloons, every last dime he’d lost, every last sin that was eating him alive, Jacob only followed after Bryant and watched him walk down the street.
His friend hadn’t ducked into any of the saloons, but was that only because he knew he was being watched?
He couldn’t stop Bryant from ruining his life if he was bent on doing it, but Celia was a different matter.
He dragged himself back into Boyd’s to question Rufus.
The odoriferous man might not know anything about his girl, but he couldn’t leave any stone unturned.
Unfortunately, the young man was already gone.
Annie paced in front of the parlor window as the last hint of light from the long-set sun disappeared, leaving nothing but black.
She’d stopped searching to feed Spencer supper, but he’d been too tired to go out again, so they’d stayed home.
Despite how desperately she itched to go back out and knock on every door, prayer was likely the best thing she could do anyway.
Lord, please don’t bring Jacob home without her.
Though of course, now that it was dark, did she really want that prayer answered affirmatively? If Jacob stayed out all night, she’d worry about him too.
Pulling her wrapper tighter, she stopped at the window and stared out at the empty street, the lamps barely dispersing the gloom. Why she had bothered to dress for bed, she didn’t know. If neither Celia nor Jacob returned—
A man’s shadowy form passed through the circle of lamp light.
Annie snatched her shawl and ran outside.
Ignoring the rocks jabbing into her bare feet, she crossed the road toward Jacob. “Did you find her?”
Meeting her in the middle, he put an arm around her and led her back onto the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry, Anne.”
She looked behind him anyway as if he might not be aware that Celia was trailing after him.
But the street was just as empty as before he’d shown up, and a cold wind gusted, sweeping away her hope.
What if Celia was gone for good?
She staggered as her breath jammed deep inside her.
How could she go back inside her warm house when her daughter could be in danger somewhere out there? “But if you didn’t find Celia, why did you come ba—?”
She smacked a hand against her errant lips. Jacob had done what he could. God was the one who hadn’t answered her prayer for her daughter’s return.
And she knew exactly how final a “no” from God could be.
A sniffle escaped, and then a big hiccup of a sob. She tried to breathe through her nose, but that only caused her to take random gulps of air in an attempt to suppress a full onslaught of tears.
Jacob pulled her close as they climbed onto the porch. He sank onto the railing, tightening his arms about her, but she didn’t want to be held, not when Celia was likely alone in the cold and dark. Not when his holding her would destroy her defenses and allow the sadness to overwhelm her.
She stepped out of his hold and looked back at the street as if she could conjure her daughter up if only she stared hard enough. “I’d prayed that you’d not come home without her.”
“I’m sorry to fail you again.” Jacob leaned his head against the column. “I’ve lost your ranch and your daughter. I can’t find the rustlers, so I’ll likely lose my job, along with this house, and then you’ll regret marrying me even more.”
She shook her head. “Don’t say that.”
He threw up his hands. “I’m just stating facts.”
“It’s not a fact.” She swiped at her eyes. She really must’ve hurt him if he believed that. “I don’t expect anything more from you than what you’ve given.”
He slouched as if he was but seconds from sleep. “I’m not sure I can handle what God’s putting us through.”
“It’s my fault. If only I hadn’t been thinking about myself so much. If I hadn’t let Mrs. Tate’s censure get the best of me. If I’d—”
“What’s Mrs. Tate have to do with this?”
Keeping this from Jacob wouldn’t be right, not when it involved him. “She thinks our hasty marriage is the root of all my troubles. When she learns Celia has run off, she’ll probably tell me it serves me right for taking up with a man so soon after—”
“Nonsense.” A low growl emitted from Jacob’s throat. “If I could strangle a woman—”
“But she’s not responsible.” The woman might be an old biddy, but she’d only been one solitary wave in Annie’s sea of doubt. “And maybe she’s right, maybe Celia’s running away is punishment for what I’ve...” Her throat clogged, and she pressed her hands against her eyes to stop the deluge.
“Shhh.” He pulled her against him. “You’re not thinking straight. I’m not thinking straight. We should get some sleep before we start—”
“But what if...” She tried to speak through her tears, but failed.
If Celia was really gone for forever...
The pressure around the ache in her chest burst into an uncontrolled gasp of a sob.
“Hey, now.” He took her arm and guided her toward the front door. “I can’t promise sleep will make this look better in the morning, but if you’re beginning to think God’s endangering Celia in order to punish you, then you need sleep as much as I do. We have important decisions to make and—”
“But what about Celia?” She pulled against his hold and looked back.
“Anne, love.” He tightened his grip on her as they entered the dim parlor. “If she isn’t bunked in with a friend who’s hiding her, she knows how to make a fire. A summer night won’t kill her.”
A summer night won’t kill her.
But what about wolves, fast racing rivers, snakes, jumping off trains, men?
The thoughts of all the ways Celia could die flashed before her. A chest-convulsing cry escaped, and then another.
Jacob’s soothing voice was an indistinct murmur above her sobs.
Seconds later, he scooped her up into his arms.
“No.” She struggled to breathe enough to say the word a second time, but couldn’t. With how his body had dragged with weariness as he’d crossed the road earlier, he shouldn’t be carrying a full-grown woman up the stairs.
But with his arms tight around her and his first steps steady, she let the heaving sobs take over and curled up against him, crying into his neck. “Oh, Jacob, I don’t know how I’d bear this without you.”
“You don’t have to, love.” He pressed his lips against her forehead and spoke against her hair. “You don’t have to.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Celia groaned while twisting her back in an attempt to alleviate the kink between her shoulder blades. Then she stomped her feet in the icy water to make sure they still worked. Two days of sifting through rock and sand for gold was worse than two months of farm chores.
Going home, curling up under covers, and eating a decent meal didn’t sound all that bad anymore, if not for the marshal’s rules.
Nobody was going to direct her life from here on out except herself, so she’d stay right here until she made enough money to buy her own goose-down quilt. Even if she did lose all her toes to frostbite.
Besides, it wouldn’t be much longer until she could quit for the day. Rufus and Guy had promised they’d all be done once the two of them finished constructing the new sluice box. Said everyone would need to get rested up for the fun they were planning.
Surely whatever they thought sounded fun would be nowhere near as wonderful as sleeping as long as she could. If the festivities were anything like what they found amusing now—irritating her within an inch of h
er life and making ribald jokes the whole livelong day—sleeping would definitely be the better choice.
Letting the water slosh back and forth across her pan to remove the finer silt, Celia watched for the telltale shine of precious metal.
Rufus had promised thirty dollars’ worth of gold for a month’s wage.
Too bad she’d have to exchange the pretty gold for ugly cash, but she would to get out of Armelle. Though if she found a big enough nugget, she might put it on a chain.
She pulled at her wet and clingy oversized shirt. A gold necklace would look silly dressed as she was, not that Rufus would allow her to keep any nugget big enough to string.
This batch had only three flakes anyway.
Hiking her threadbare trousers farther up her slender hips, she sloshed her way toward the river bank. After depositing her find in the collection bucket, she lowered herself onto the loose silt ground and wiggled her stiff toes against hard leather. She ought to take her boots off and let the sun warm her feet.
“You being lazy again?” Rufus walked past her with two boards on his shoulder and a bucket of nails swinging at his side.
“No.” She unlaced her boot and dumped its water onto the dirt. “I wouldn’t be any good to you if I let my toes fall off, now would I?”
“You were of better use when you were informing us where the marshal was,” he muttered as he passed.
Why were they so worried about meeting up with the marshal anyway? Wasn’t as if he could arrest them for working their land or being disgusting old men. And gambling wasn’t anything that got you thrown into jail.
At least Rufus no longer seemed so fascinated with her after enduring plenty of her sass. Who knew months of back talking her parents would prove a good survival skill? She stifled the urge to rub at the twinge in her chest. Neither Ma nor Jacob had deserved the amount she’d dished out to them—not like these two snakes did, anyway.
Of course, his disinterest could be from the haircut she’d given herself. Rufus had talked a lot about the feminine features of the women he visited in town, so she’d cut her hair like a boy’s in hopes he’d lose any interest he might have in her nearly flat body. It seemed to have worked since he didn’t leer at her nearly as often.
Daniel sat next to her and pulled a smooshed sandwich from his lunch bucket. He threw half of his sandwich onto her muddy trousers. “Here.”
She cringed at the feel of the soggy bread but took a bite anyway. “Do you know what fun they’re planning?”
“No, but I doubt you’d want to stick around for it.” He talked around a mass of food in his mouth. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck around as long as you have with how you bicker with Rufus.”
“It pays more than laundry.” She looked out over the glistening rapids, recalling the nights she’d helped round up cattle with Daddy and camped under the stars next to the Laramie.
“Besides, I love the outdoors.” She wiggled her pant-clad legs. “And dressing like a boy.”
Though she didn’t exactly enjoy the back-breaking work, she’d not complain. Laundry wouldn’t have been much better.
“No one will ever consider you respectable in that getup.” Daniel kept his eyes on the river. “Don’t you want to get married, live in a house, have babies?”
Celia scrunched her face at him. “Children cause more problems than they’re worth.” She’d certainly been the burr under her mother’s saddle for more years than she could count.
Daniel grunted, then shoved the last of his food into his mouth and stomped off.
Celia finished the remains of her mushy meal then dragged her semi-dry legs back into the icy currents to pan. No need to think about the future if she didn’t find enough gold to afford one.
Hours later, Rufus and Guy completed their sluice box then showed her, Daniel, and Timothy how the apparatus worked. Maybe working this sluice instead of hunching over all day would gain her a decent night’s rest.
Guy rapped his knuckles against the box. “Time to pack up and head out.”
She glanced toward the sun. “We still have an hour or two. Why not let us practice with your contraption?”
Ruffling her hair as if she were a kid, Guy shoved her toward the trees. “Tomorrow’s work will be a lot more lucrative than panning, and we need to be rested up.” He almost looked as if he were excited enough to smile—if he’d possessed enough teeth to do so.
Rubbing his hands together, Rufus circled Daniel and Timothy. “All right now, we’ve decided to trust you three, and if we cain’t...” He eyed them all.
Celia lifted her chin a notch and narrowed her eyes right back at him. She’d not act like some prissy girl who’d balk at whatever brought in money.
Rufus nodded, as if he’d seen what he needed to see in their eyes. “So who’s ready for some cattle rustling?”
Celia’s chin froze in its uptilted position. Daddy had never been more livid in his life than when he discussed the rustlers plaguing the county.
So that’s why they’d wanted to know where the marshal was at all times.
She looked down at her waterlogged hands. Could she do something Daddy would be ashamed of?
But then, she’d never thought Daddy would’ve been the kind to kill an unarmed shepherd either.
Sometimes, I wonder if I knew you at all.
Timothy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I can’t come tomorrow. My baby brother’s birthday is the day after, and my aunt from Cheyenne has probably already arrived. I can’t sneak out of the house with her three boys bunked in my room.”
His throat worked overtime and he darted a glance at Celia and Daniel.
Timothy had no aunt as far as she knew.
“If this is what you meant by fun, I ain’t doing it unless I’m paid more.” Daniel puffed out his barrel chest, but being a foot shorter than Rufus, the action only made him look like a banty hen threatening the dominant rooster.
“Of course it pays better,” Guy said around the wheatgrass stem in his mouth. He glared at Daniel until her friend took a step back.
Rufus jostled her. “You can ride, cain’t ya?”
Daniel shook his head. “She’d just get in the way.”
“I’ve been riding since I could walk.” Celia sneered at her so-called friend. How many times had she outraced him over the years? “He’s just afraid I’ll show him up.”
Rufus shrugged. “You’ll just be lookout. We aren’t expecting you to help with the beeves.”
Her fists clenched, and she jutted out her jaw. “I bet I know cattle better than you do.”
“Considering he can rarely tell the backside of a cow from the front side, you might be right.” Guy rolled his eyes at the murderous glare he received from Rufus. “But, until you know how we do things, you’re lookout.” He spat out his chewed up wheatgrass.
“But Daniel hasn’t been out with you befo—”
“It ain’t right bringing a girl along,” Daniel interrupted.
“Since when have you ever cared about my being a girl?” Celia shoved him. “No one’s ever accused me of being much of a lady anyhow.”
Guy stomped over and grabbed them both by the shoulders. He dug his thumb deep into her muscle, but she kept the pain tucked tight inside. She couldn’t let him know it hurt.
“Celia’s lookout and Daniel’s helping with the cattle. If you don’t follow orders—”
“I’ll persuade ya into doing so.” Rufus smacked his fist into his open palm, looking between her and Daniel.
“Now, shut your traps and do as you’re told.”
Daniel shrugged out from under Guy’s hold and stamped off toward the horses.
Guy kept a hold of her and leaned down, his bristly beard scraping against her ear. “You don’t want to give Rufus a reason to persuade you into doing anything, you understand?” He squeezed her shoulder so hard, she’d likely find bruises come morning.
“Yes.” She yanked away from his grip and shot him a feisty glare. Hopefully, he didn�
��t notice her quaking knees. Cattle rustling wasn’t nearly as scary as the thought that Guy might be the only reason Rufus was keeping his distance.
“Good.” Guy strode toward Timothy, who quickly assured him he’d not tell a soul.
The older boy took one last glance at her and Daniel before heading out.
Rufus mounted his gelding, then circled to face those left.
He eyed Celia while pushing his tobacco wad around in his cheek. “Get as much sleep as you can.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
With an arm around his thin shoulders, Annie escorted Spencer up the Whitsetts’ porch steps.
The last two hours he’d hobbled along without complaint, but he was definitely dragging now.
She knocked on the door and shifted her weight. As much as she’d like to sit and rest, the day wasn’t over. If Leah could watch Spencer, she’d ride out to the ranch and check Celia’s old haunts.
No one answered the door.
Odd. Leah was normally here at this time.
Annie tried the knob. Finding the door open, she pushed it in. “Leah?”
Wood scraped against wood from somewhere inside the house, but no footsteps followed.
Leah almost always called out from wherever she was.
Annie nudged Spencer toward the bookshelf. “Why don’t you see if there’s something you’d like to borrow while I look for Leah?”
Spencer dragged himself toward the books, and Annie followed the faint sounds of ... sniffling?
Inside the pantry, Leah was dusting shelves and shoving jars around with more force than necessary.
Annie lightly tapped on the wall, causing Leah to jump.
“I’m sorry to startle you.”
“No, don’t be.” Leah turned her back to Annie and pulled up her apron to seemingly wipe at her face.
“Are you crying?”
“No.” She sniffed a couple times before turning to give Annie a weak smile.
She narrowed her eyes at her friend’s red-rimmed ones. “I never thought you’d lie to me.”
Leah batted her eyes excessively and wiped at them with the back of her hand. “Well, I wasn’t crying right that second.”
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