Better Than Gold

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  “I didn’t start it.” Jake tugged against Ben’s hold. “I have no reason to do anything so foolish.”

  “Except look for gold,” Ben said in the man’s ear.

  “Gold? What gold?” Jake’s voice grew higher with each word. “I don’t want anything to do with gold.”

  “You’d been reading all the back issues of the paper about the gold.”

  Jake kicked Ben’s shin. “Shut your mouth about that.”

  “No matter,” Dodd drawled. “We can all figure out you have all those old newspapers to read, too. You likely know more’n anyone else about the gold.”

  “No, no. I–I’m. . .” Suddenly he slumped in their hold. “It’s my gold. Doerfel isn’t my name. It’s Mitchell. Jim Mitchell was my father, but he got himself killed without telling me where he hid the gold. But I’m going to find it. It’s mine. It’s mine.” His voice broke on a sob.

  “It belongs to the government,” Dodd corrected. “And this livery belonged to Mr. Gilchrist. You destroyed it to find something that isn’t yours.”

  “Or might not be there,” Ben added.

  “It is. It is. . . .”

  Jake continued his protests all the way to the one cell the town called a jail.

  “Do you think it really is in those ashes?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t know.” Dodd rubbed a knuckle across his chin. “But we’re gonna look.”

  The next day, they looked. Half the town turned out to help. Ben didn’t see Lily, but she would be at the telegraph office. She would have enjoyed the festive atmosphere. People laughed and joked and gladly got their hands and clothes dirty moving ash-laden planks. The air crackled with excitement, and Ben’s heart raced harder with each layer of the building they uncovered.

  Each empty layer.

  They found scraps of harness leather and canvas, twisted iron from buggy wheels and farm equipment. Nothing, right down to the earth below the foundation, resembled so much as the melted remains of gold.

  Fourteen

  “I still can’t believe someone would destroy his life over the chance at finding gold.” Lily faced Ben across Mrs. Twining’s kitchen table, seeing him for the first time since the fire. “Or worse, risk your life.”

  “The prospect of easy money makes people do strange and dangerous things.” Ben rested his hands on the table. “But I’m safe.”

  “I am thankful for that.” Lily smiled and fell silent.

  Ben smiled back, but neither of them looked directly at one another. As the coffee steamed and the smell of a dried apple pie filled the kitchen, silence between them grew. Lily had so much to say to him that she didn’t know where to start. She knew Ben wanted to talk to her, too. He had walked her home from the telegraph office, giving her that excuse, yet had said nothing of what lay on his mind. While she made dinner and the pie, he talked with his aunt. During the meal, the three of them discussed the fire and Jake Doerfel’s attempts to find the gold. Now, alone for the first time since Saturday, they talked about Jake again, repeating what they had said earlier.

  Lily wondered if she should speak up first. She’d always understood that the man brought up the subject of a relationship between a lady and himself, but maybe his odd upbringing hadn’t taught him such things.

  Maybe she should start, give him a nudge—or push—with her announcement.

  She clasped the edge of the table. “Ben, I want to tell you about my job—”

  “Lily, I want to tell you about my decision,” he said at the same time.

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  “You go first.” They spoke at the same time again.

  “Ladies first,” Ben pronounced.

  “All right.” Lily took a deep breath. Her heart pounded against her ribs, tapping out a Morse code of apprehension. “I turned down the job offer.”

  “Lily.” He swallowed. “You’re staying?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because. . .”

  The words “I love you” stuck in her throat. She didn’t think she was supposed to say so before he declared his intentions toward her.

  “This is where I want to stay.” She gave him another part of the answer. “And where I believe the Lord wants me to stay. I was never at peace about taking the job in the city. I have peace about this decision. I don’t need all the noise and people to be happy.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He gave her a half smile, not an indication of joy at her announcement. “Though I’ve taken over your room.”

  “I can stay with Mrs. Willoughby or move to the boardinghouse.”

  Smelling a crust beginning to brown too much, Lily rose to remove the pie from the oven. She kept her back to him so he couldn’t read her disappointment in his lack of enthusiasm for her remaining in Browning City.

  “You should stay with family,” she concluded.

  “I wasn’t going to continue living here in town.” His voice was tight. “With everything that happened, things like my not having work at the livery now that it’s burned down and not having a place to live made me think maybe the Lord wanted me to move on. I thought I had misunderstood what He wanted for me because I wanted it so much. But you seem to understand that.”

  “I do.” She set the pie on the table, still without looking at him. “Sometimes I think we want something so much, we let ourselves believe it’s what God wants for us.” She picked up the coffeepot and faced him at last. “What will you do now that the livery is gone? Is Mr. Gilchrist going to rebuild?”

  Am I any part of that life?

  “He is. He still wants me to manage it, and he wants me to manage the store, too.”

  “Ben, that’s wonderful! ”

  She wished she had the right to hug him.

  She set down the coffeepot and reached for a knife to cut the pie.

  He covered her hand with his. “Wait, please.” He gazed into her eyes.

  What she read there made her sink onto the nearest chair, her heart beating so hard she could scarcely breathe. Tenderness. Love. Longing. Everything she felt for him.

  “Lily, may I be so bold as to ask if another reason you’re staying here is because you care for me?”

  “Yes. I mean, yes, you may ask, and yes, it’s true.” She reached for her coffee cup, realized it was still empty, and picked up his to wash the dryness from her throat. “I knew the night of the fire I wanted to stay near you.”

  “I was ready to leave here to be near you.”

  Then ask me to marry you.

  She squeezed his hand, trying to convey the message to him without saying it.

  “I would like—love—a future with you, Lily.” A tremor ran through his fingers. “It’s possible. That is, if you’re interested enough, but. . .” He paused.

  Lily bit back a shriek of frustration.

  “I’m going to make good wages soon, and I have my savings.” He continued his speech, avoiding her gaze again. “But I still don’t feel I can ask you to marry me before I have a home for us.”

  She shouldn’t have stayed in Browning City. Chicago would have offered them dozens of places to live once he had a job. But Browning City had nothing other than rooms to rent, not a good way to start married life.

  Except. . .

  “The livery?” Hope ran through her.

  “When I accepted the job offer from Mr. Gilchrist this morning, I told him we shouldn’t build quarters behind the livery. Too dangerous with needing to have a stove and all.”

  “You told him not to—” Lily stood and backed from the table. “He was going to? And you told him not to?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “We could have had a place to be together, but you prevented it?”

  Ben sighed. “Lily, when I thought seriously about it, I knew I couldn’t take my bride back to a room that forever smells like horses. You wouldn’t like that.”

  “You didn’t ask me if I would or would not.” Tears stung her eyes. “Excuse
me.” She swung toward the door.

  “No, wait.” In a flash, he stood between her and the door. “I’m going about this all wrong. I’m trying to ask you if you’ll wait for me.”

  “How long?” The flirtatious question slipped out before she could stop herself.

  He frowned, but a twinkle sparked in his eyes. “Possibly for as long as you plan to love me.”

  “Is that all?” She touched her fingertips to his cheek. “Then it’s only for as long as you plan to love me.”

  “That’s a long time.” He cradled her hand with his. “Something like forever.”

  ❧

  “Lily.” Becky flung herself into Lily’s arms before church on Sunday. “Matt asked me to marry him. I know we haven’t been courting all that long, but we’ve known each other for ages, and he’s so good and kind, and his parents are letting us have their house and—isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Truly.”

  Lily hugged her friend. She was happy for Becky, though the sight of Ben on the other side of the sanctuary, talking with Jackson Reeves, sent her heart into a confused spiral of joy and sorrow.

  No matter what she said to him, he refused to propose to her until he could offer her a real home.

  “So I need to buy yards and yards of lace from you.” Becky linked her arm with Lily’s. “Momma says I can have a whole new dress if I don’t buy too much fabric for it, so I thought maybe lots of lace instead of a wide skirt.”

  “Make your skirt as wide as you like. I have yards of lace made. I’ll give it to you.”

  “But what about the bazaar?”

  Lily shrugged. “It’s mostly just crocheted collars and cuffs I sell there.”

  Becky winked. “But what about your own wedding dress?”

  “We don’t have anywhere to live.”

  Although the fact hurt her, she experienced only a twinge of envy for her friend’s blessing of a fiancé who could provide her with a proper home. The Lord knew what He wanted for her and Ben. He would provide. If He did not provide. . .

  Lily didn’t think that far. Her faith grew daily, but it still had its limitations. The prospect of a future without Ben as her husband hurt too much to contemplate.

  “Someone in Browning City should build houses they can rent to people like you two and newcomers.” Becky began tugging Lily toward Matt, who had joined Ben and Pastor Jackson. “Don’t big cities have houses to rent?”

  “Yes, I think they do. But we live here, and we plan to stay here.”

  “You can’t believe how happy I am about that.” Becky paused. “I couldn’t imagine Browning City without you here stirring things up.”

  Lily frowned. “I hope I brought more than that to town.”

  “Browning City without you, Lily, would be like summer without sunshine.” Becky grinned. “Is that good enough for you?”

  “Better than good enough.” Lily laughed, once again assured staying was right.

  Even her frustration over the town having nowhere Ben and she could live made her doubt her decision only once or twice in the next week. Mostly, she was too busy finishing up preparations for the spring bazaar and anticipating the plowing contest. If Ben won, they could buy land and build a house. Yet she didn’t know how he could win. Although he had rescued the plow from the fire, it had gotten scorched. It was also old and heavy, not like one of the improved John Deere plows some farmers had. Ben was young and strong, yet she wasn’t certain he had as much experience as others did.

  “God knows what He wants for us,” she told herself each time she grew uncertain.

  Part of her hoped it wasn’t a farm miles from town. She doubted she would ever be satisfied with few to no neighbors near enough for anything from spontaneous dinners together to borrowing a cup of sugar. She felt her gift for organizing people to get things done could better be used in town than out, and she kept telling herself to let God have that talent for His glory, not her own.

  Whatever her future, she employed every bit of her skill up to the minute the bazaar opened. Held outside town to have enough space and have a field for the contest close by, the fair of booths celebrated all the skills farm- and townsfolk employed during the more idle winter months. More barter than exchange of coin took place, but because everyone paid for a booth, the community received money. This year, everyone worked hard to raise funds for a library. The previous year, they had raised money for a church hall.

  Lily had taken only cash the previous year, her first to participate. She didn’t intend to carry on the same practice this year. She’d felt no need for antimacassars, quilts, and frilly aprons before. That had all changed.

  She understood the meaning behind the words “hope chest.”

  By the end of the first day, she didn’t have a crocheted collar or cuff left. Her box held some coins and numerous linens, exquisitely stitched by ladies who took pride in their work. She had even exchanged a length of lace for a colorful rag rug.

  One day, she would have her own floor on which to spread it.

  Without any goods to sell the next day, she helped Becky, Eva, and the others with their toffee; then she closed up shop and walked arm in arm with the other women to the edge of the field.

  “Are Matt and Tom joining us?” she asked them.

  “They’re referees.” Eva glanced at the line of plows across from them. “This field is stonier than I remember from when I came two years ago.”

  “I think Iowa grows as many stones as it does crops.” Becky giggled. “One year, when Mr. Deere himself came, a man plowed up a rock so big his blade bent.”

  Eva made a face. “I hope it wasn’t the blade of a John Deere plow.”

  “It wasn’t, and he pointed that out, of—oh, there’s Matt.” Becky waved.

  Even across a field, Lily saw Matt’s face light up. She wondered how she had ever thought he would care for her, or she for him. She scarcely thought of him now.

  She had scarcely thought of him since meeting Ben.

  Ben stood a hundred feet or so from Matt. He squatted before his plow, tinkering with something she couldn’t see from this distance.

  She shaded her eyes with her hand. “Is everything all right?”

  “You worry too much.” Becky slipped her arm around Lily’s waist. “He’ll do fine. Even third place is good.”

  Eva held up her hand. “Hush, they’re about to start.”

  Sheriff Dodd stepped forward and read from a sheet of paper. Lily couldn’t hear the words, only his sonorous voice, but presumed he pronounced the rules. When he finished his speech, he stepped behind the line of men and plows, picked a rifle up from the ground, and fired into the air.

  The three ladies jumped, laughed, and started to cheer Ben on. All around them, ladies called for their men to do well, and children ran about, shouting for their daddies.

  Only in the Iowa countryside, Lily couldn’t help thinking, would an entire town turn out to watch grown men pull plows across a field. Never would city folk do something so silly.

  Or with so much togetherness and fun.

  Even if Ben didn’t win, the bazaar and contest were worth every minute with her friends.

  Her family.

  Filled with love for the women beside her, she hugged both of them.

  “I know.” Becky hugged her back. “I’m worried, too.”

  “About what?” Lily blinked, glanced back at the field, and understood.

  Ben was faltering. No, not him, his plow.

  “He hit a rock.” Eva narrowed her eyes against the glare of the noonday sun. “The blade is uneven now.”

  “Oh no, that takes off points if the furrows aren’t straight,” Becky wailed. “It’s just not fair.”

  “It’s not.” Lily’s heart sank into her middle.

  She started to pray.

  Ben kept going, but he fell far behind half the other men. In no way could he win.

  Lily clenched her hands and tried to pray. She was so sure the Lord wanted them togethe
r. She didn’t know how He could give her peace about staying in Browning City, even make her happy about it, then keep her and Ben apart.

  I can’t bear to see him day after day and stay mere friends.

  But of course she would if the Lord wanted her to.

  I accept this, Lord.

  “I wonder if the plow was damaged in the fire,” Eva mused. “It just doesn’t look right. See that crack?”

  Lily and Becky shook their heads.

  “You have remarkable eyesight.” Lily leaned forward, squinting. “I can’t see a—oh, yes, I can.”

  A groove formed along the side of the plow. She also noticed the crease between Ben’s eyes and tightness of his chin.

  “Another rock might break it.”

  As Becky spoke, the blade struck another rock. The frame shuddered. The groove turned into a fissure. While the other contestants continued, Ben stopped and turned to his equipment.

  “That’s an odd sight.” Eva headed onto the field. “Come on, you two. Something peculiar is happening here.”

  “What?” Lily noticed nothing too out of the ordinary.

  “Something in the crack.” Eva tossed the cryptic remark over her shoulder.

  “What?” Lily followed Eva and Becky along Ben’s lane. Matt and Tom gestured to them to go back. The ladies ignored the men and continued.

  “Ben,” Becky called, “what happened?”

  He stood beside the plow, pulling on something protruding from the crack. Concentration etched his face, and when he glanced at them, excitement sparkled in his eyes.

  “This plow was never intended to be used for this purpose again.” He yanked on what appeared to be a scrap of fabric. “It’s been cobbled together—”

  “What are you all doing?” Matt demanded, Tom right behind him.

  “You’re supposed to be judging the contest,” Eva said.

  “It’s done.” Tom frowned at her. “The Hastings lad won. They’re all headed this way.”

  They were. Lily glanced around to see what appeared to be the entire town swarming toward them.

  “I need a chisel,” Ben said.

  Someone ran for tent stakes and a hammer. Ben and Tom used the stakes to form wedges to pry the pieces of the plow apart far enough for Ben to extract a canvas bag.