Better Than Gold

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  “Not when I look at both of your beautiful faces.”

  She giggled. “That isn’t a good sign.”

  “Can you walk to town for help?”

  “I can, but I won’t leave you.” She brushed his hair back from his brow. “It’s Saturday. Someone will come by soon.”

  “You’re not afraid of us being alone until they do?”

  “We’re not alone.” She smiled down at him. “The Lord is with us.”

  ❧

  Two days later, Ben straightened from his examination of the buggy wreckage. Some of the dizziness that had plagued him since the accident swept over him, and he swiped his sleeve across his brow.

  “It was no accident.” Ben frowned at Lars Gilchrist. “Someone tampered with the axle.”

  “How can you be certain?” Mr. Gilchrist looked old and tired. “Could it not have broken from age and poor repair?”

  A twinge of anger plucked at Ben’s gut.

  “I keep everything in good repair, sir.” He poked the pieces of axle with the toe of his boot. “It’s been cut.”

  “It’s not simply a flaw in the wood?”

  “And a piece is missing.”

  Gilchrist scowled. “Why would someone take a piece of the axle?”

  “It’s a shorter piece from the wheel to the main shaft. This is long, but it’s not long enough.”

  “It could have fallen somewhere else.” Mr. Gilchrist glanced about the empty countryside where the accident had occurred. “The wheel rolled a good ways away.”

  “Yes, sir, and the piece had been cut from it by the time we all got back here. Two days is more than enough time.”

  “But why would someone want to do that to you and Miss Lily?” Gilchrist began to pace back and forth across the narrow road. “It makes no sense to me. You are two of the best young people I know. I can’t imagine either of you having enemies.”

  “No, sir, whatever the sheriff might think.” Ben tasted a hint of bitterness in his words and clamped his lips shut before he said more.

  “Now, son, he’s just trying to keep his town safe.” Gilchrist laid a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “And you know we had little crime to speak of before you came. It’s a logical conclusion for him to draw.”

  “But I haven’t done anything but move here and try to make a new life for myself.” Ben shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for one of the two horses he and Gilchrist had ridden from town. “Before I came here to settle, I’d never stayed anywhere long enough to make enemies.”

  “So the problem lies somewhere else.” Gilchrist joined him at the horses. “We just need to figure out where.”

  On the way back to Browning City, Ben wondered how to accomplish the task of learning who didn’t want him in town and, just as important, why. The idea of Lily being the target was not something to consider. No one could think ill of her.

  Of course, Ben didn’t know why anyone would think ill of him, either. He didn’t believe he was being self-centered to think such a thing. The town had welcomed him. He’d never had an enemy, and no one had ever asked him—or his father—to leave a place. When his father felt the need to move on, they had always gone of their own free will.

  His father’s free will. Ben had wanted to stay many times, but his father never did, and Ben couldn’t let him go alone.

  Yet someone didn’t like Ben. Didn’t like him and wanted to see him gone, maybe even permanently.

  Heart heavy, Ben bade good day to Gilchrist in front of the general store; then he returned to the livery, leading the older man’s horse. The stable appeared too empty with the buggy missing. The other one stood in its corner across from the plow and other farm equipment. After putting the horses into their stalls, Ben gave the second buggy a thorough inspection. Wheels, axle, singletree all looked undamaged.

  “So how did whoever damaged the other one know I would take it instead of this one?” Ben rocked back on his heels and stared at the vehicle. “How did someone even know I would take out a buggy on Saturday instead of someone else?”

  A quick recall told him any number of people could have known the latter. At least a dozen people had seen them drive out of town. Anyone could have followed them and cut the axle while Ben and Lily ate their picnic on the other side of the hill and out of sight of the road. In fact, the perpetrator would have had to carry out his deed in such a manner. Otherwise, the wheel would have broken off sooner, would have come off when they had barely left town.

  “What is wrong here, Lord?” Ben spoke aloud in the empty stable.

  Empty of people, that is. All but one horse still stood in their stalls. The one missing would be gone the entire week, rented out by a man who didn’t like trains and needed to go to Des Moines. Business was slow. Far too slow. With feed and other supplies to purchase, Gilchrist hadn’t made enough on the livery to pay Ben’s wages.

  A hint of fear crept up his spine. Slow business. Someone wanting to harm him or, at the least, scare him off.

  “Am I wrong, Lord? Am I not to stay here after all?”

  Wind blew the mourning wail of the afternoon train’s whistle into town. Ben stood and glanced in the direction of the depot. He should go meet Lily. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday. Doc Smythe had ordered both of them to stay in their homes and rest on Sunday, especially Ben, who had seen double for several hours after the buggy wreck. When Ben had stopped at Great-Aunt Deborah’s house earlier in the day to ask after Lily, he learned she had gone to work.

  “She looked well.” Great-Aunt Deborah had smiled. “In truth, Ben, I’ve never seen her looking better. She looked peaceful.”

  Ben knew what Great-Aunt Deborah meant. Nothing was quite as beautiful as seeing Lily’s face alight with peace and joy. Nothing sounded quite so sweet as hearing her say they were not alone because the Lord was with them.

  As he strode toward the depot, Ben praised God for such good coming out of the accident. He hoped her newfound relationship with the Lord meant she would stay in Browning City.

  If he was to stay there.

  No. He pushed the nagging doubt aside. The attacks on him and the poor business at the livery were not signs from God that he should move on. Surely not. Business would pick up again once the weather stayed fine and planting ended.

  As for the attacks on him. . . They must learn who was behind those, especially now that they had risked Lily’s safety.

  Thinking of Lily lightened his heart again, and he increased his stride. The depot came into sight. A few people headed toward him: some strangers, Tom Bailyn, Jake Doerfel. No sign of Lily.

  Ben greeted Tom and Jake then crossed the station to the telegraph office. Lily sat at her machine keying in a message. When she finished, she glanced up at him, smiled, and waved.

  “Waiting for Toby,” she mouthed.

  Ben nodded and leaned against the wall of the office to wait for her. What felt like much too much later, he heard footfalls running up the road and glanced around to see Toby galloping into the station.

  “So sorry! So sorry!” he shouted in apology before he reached the office.

  Lily shook her head but didn’t look in the least upset as she slid off her stool and gathered up her things.

  “To what do I owe the privilege of your escort?” she said as she greeted Ben and then spoke over her shoulder, “Toby, I forgot to tell you, the eastbound is running sixteen minutes late at the last report.” She took Ben’s arm without hesitation and looked up at him. “You didn’t need to wait.”

  “Of course I did.” He started walking toward town, thrilled to have Lily at his side.

  Where he always wanted her.

  “You’re awfully patient with his being late all the time. If it’s not rude of me to ask, do they pay you extra for waiting?”

  “They do, but they’ve threatened to dismiss him several times.” Lily sighed. “But I keep talking the supervisor from Davenport into keeping him on. Maybe I shouldn’t let him get away with it, but he is the only
wage earner for his mother and five younger brothers and sisters. Their father died in an accident last year. That’s why he works a double shift.”

  Ben covered her hand with his. “I don’t know how you could call yourself selfish, Lily.” And for his own selfish reasons, he added, “Another operator wouldn’t be so generous, staying on, more than likely.”

  “You mean if I leave.”

  “Yes.”

  “You truly want me to stay.” She peered up at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet.

  “Permanently.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to court you.”

  “Haven’t you been already?” Her tone was light. “The picnic. Taking me to the Easter egg hunt. It looks like courting to everyone.”

  “Yes, and I want it to be official.”

  He wasn’t being terribly clear, yet he suspected she understood what he meant—he wanted the kind of courting that led to engagement. He wanted, when they knew one another a bit longer—not too much longer—to marry her. He couldn’t offer her everything he wanted to, but if she were willing to make do with the quarters behind the livery for a year or two—and if he won the plowing contest this year or next—they could have a fair life together.

  No, a good life together.

  His mouth dry, he took the next step. “I love you, Lily.”

  “Oh, my.” She tightened her hand on his arm. “Ben, I—”

  “I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just had to say it and ask for a chance. But if you don’t want to see me anymore now—”

  “Shh.” She drew her hand from under his and touched a gloved finger to his lips. “I want to spend time with you more than anyone. But at the same time, I—well, I’m afraid. I mean, I could so easily love you. But if I end up leaving, it would only hurt us both.”

  “Then don’t leave.” He took her hand in his, and they continued into town with fingers linked. “I thought you wouldn’t want to go now. Saturday, you said you weren’t afraid of being alone anymore.”

  “I wasn’t. I’m not. But now I know I won’t be alone in the city, either. It doesn’t mean I have changed my mind about having to be alone, if you understand what I’m saying.”

  “I’m afraid I do.” He sighed to relieve the pain around his heart. “But if you were to stay, I’d have a chance?”

  “Better than a chance.”

  “Then why are you even thinking of leaving?” Stopping, he swung to face her and grasped her other hand. “Lily, if you care about me that much, why would you leave?”

  She met his gaze. “You could come with me.”

  “I have no future in the city.” Ben winced at the sadness in her eyes. “My future is here.”

  “And my future may be in the city.” She turned away and resumed walking, Ben falling into step beside her. “I am still waiting to know what the Lord wants for me.”

  “Isn’t time getting short to notify them?”

  “Yes. But I have peace that I will know what to do when I need to.”

  Ben thought about the accident that could have seriously injured Lily, or worse, and had to give in. “I’ll wait and pray for you.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “And I’ll pray that maybe you have a future in the city after all.”

  “It’s not what I want.” He glanced around at the houses and businesses beginning to line up on either side of them. “I was born here. My only family is here. But today—Lily, you need to know this. We didn’t have an accident on Saturday.”

  “I beg your pardon? I have a headache that says we did.”

  “Me, too.” Ben grimaced. “What I mean is that someone tampered with the buggy to make it crash.”

  Lily gasped. Her face paled. “How—I mean, why? I mean. . . Who would want to harm us?”

  “Not us, my dear, me.”

  “But why—oh.” A muscle ticked in Lily’s jaw. “They’re trying to scare you away from the livery.”

  “I can’t help but think that.” He knotted his free hand into a fist at anything that so much as appeared to upset Lily. “It’s difficult to hunt for gold if I’m living there.”

  “But rumors of the gold have been around for years,” Lily pointed out. “And no one has lived there for even longer than that.”

  “Someone who is new in town, who just learned of those rumors? Or someone from out of town?”

  They turned the corner to Great-Aunt Deborah’s street.

  “I admit I looked around the livery myself.” Ben gave an embarrassed laugh. “Who wouldn’t want the reward money for finding that kind of treasure? It would help me buy my farm now instead of waiting several years. And I could make a wife more comfortable than I can now on what I earn. But that place is solidly built. I don’t see how anyone could have hidden anything there.”

  “You had time to look.” Lily paused at the end of Great-Aunt Deborah’s walk. “No one else can do that.” She held out her hands. “Be careful, Ben. I wish. . . Will you think about maybe this being the Lord’s way of telling you that you shouldn’t stay here?”

  When she gazed up at him with her wide, blue eyes, Ben could deny her nothing.

  “I’ll pray about that, but I can’t believe He would bring me here then send me away.”

  Except maybe to find her?

  Now that was something to think about.

  “May I see you tomorrow?”

  “I think it would be better if we didn’t see each other for a few days. Come to Sunday dinner.”

  “Sunday?” Ben protested so loudly the front curtain twitched back.

  He waved to Great-Aunt Deborah then sighed. “You’re probably right. Until Sunday.” He touched her cheek and strode away at a near jog before he was tempted to do more.

  He didn’t understand what the Lord was doing to him. He’d prayed for family for years. He prayed for a stationary home and a godly wife. Now he had the former and a wonderful possibility for the latter, and she still talked about leaving.

  She didn’t love him enough to stay. That was all there was to it. If she loved him enough, she would give up notions of crowds and bright lights.

  If you love her enough, maybe you would give up on open fields and a handful of people.

  The thought jabbed him like a knife to his gut. Before falling in love with Lily, he had been so sure settling in Browning City was the right decision, the decision God wanted him to make. Now, he didn’t know.

  For the rest of the evening, he kept returning to the idea that he was supposed to leave town with Lily. He fought the notion and tried to think of ways he could make staying attractive to her. He knew he couldn’t afford to support a wife in style as income matters stood. They wouldn’t want for anything, but they would have little for extras, either. Extras like traveling. Lily would be unhappy. Yet in the city, she was the only one of them who would arrive with a job. He could find work, of course, but she couldn’t work once they started a family.

  “It seems impossible, Lord.”

  Those were his last words before he fell asleep. The aching place in his head resulting from the accident had spread across his brow and down his neck. He tossed and turned and woke in the middle of the night with his eyes and nose burning.

  From smoke.

  Thirteen

  Lily woke to a clanging bell and the sound of horses pounding along the street, shouts and the smell of smoke. Too much smoke for stove and hearth fires. More like. . .

  She shot from bed and stumbled to the window. From her view of the side yard and Mrs. Willoughby’s house, she could see nothing. She flung up the sash and leaned out, shivering in the chilly night air, then coughing as smoke billowed into her face on a gust of wind.

  The fire was close, but she still couldn’t tell where it was. She needed to find the location, carry buckets, help. Everyone in town who could help in a fire did so. They had no fire wagon.

  She slammed the window and yanked a dress over her head. Not bothering with stockings, she shoved her feet into her shoes an
d laced them up. A shawl? No, too easy to catch sparks. Good for beating them out, though.

  She tossed one around her shoulders and dashed into Mrs. Twining’s room. The older lady sat up in bed, lighting a candle.

  “Fire somewhere.” Lily’s words came out breathless. “I’m going out.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Twining coughed. “You be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Do you know where the fire is?” Mrs. Twining’s eyes filled with concern. “If we can smell this much smoke, it must be close.”

  “I know.”

  Lily worried their house might be in danger.

  “But it’s windy enough to blow the smoke to us.”

  And carry fire from building to building when they hadn’t had rain in days.

  “I’ll come back if—if we need to leave here.” Losing her things was not something to contemplate. All the lace she had made for the bazaar, clothes that were so expensive to replace, her hooks and needles, which cost even more. . .

  But others might be losing their things right now. She must hurry, help save what she could.

  Lily ran through the kitchen and grabbed two buckets from the pantry. Wind made the back door resist her push to open it. Wind reeking of smoke. Smoke stinging her nostrils and lungs. Too strong not to be a nearby fire.

  She threw her shoulder against the door. Another gust of wind sent it crashing back into the door frame. Lily rushed into the night with a black sky overhead and an orange glow to the north.

  As she headed toward that glow, she raced past the familiar homes and businesses that occupied that part of town. Dr. Smythe. Not far enough away. Gilchrist’s. Still too near. Scott’s Bank.

  The livery.

  Lily broke into a run, tripping and stumbling over uneven ground. “Not the livery. Lord, please, not the livery. Not Ben.” More plea than prayer, words poured from Lily between gasps for air.

  The livery was only a block away now. It felt like six blocks, like six miles.

  She crashed into the first line of a bucket brigade, trying to push past them.

  “Lily, stop.” Matt Campbell caught hold of her arm. “It’s not safe.”

  “But Ben.” She thrust her buckets into Matt’s hands. “Take these. I have to help Ben.”