Or, like Collin MacDonald, throw it all into a bottle that never did anyone, least of all his family, any good.
“That’s very kind of her. We’ll be sure to send a basket of Maddie’s goodies to thank her when we’re back home.”
Her father sighed. As if he, too, was learning to see right through her. “I know it’s going to be hard on you, seeing Gertie. Just remember that she was your mother’s best friend, and that she loves you like her own.”
“I’ll try.” It was the best she could do. She hadn’t seen any of the MacDonalds since her family died. Her father had dutifully come from his visits to the family to let her know of how they were all doing, but she couldn’t bring herself to visit. There were too many reminders of what she’d lost.
“I’ll let Joseph and Nugget know.” Annabelle went inside before the feelings got to be too much to bear. She knew it was wrong to shut out the remaining people who loved her. But what else was she supposed to do?
She’d tried so hard to build walls around all the things that hurt, and to keep out the people that reminded her of that pain. But now she was being forced to confront it, and that seemed like the worst injustice of all.
* * *
The mining camp was like so many of the places Joseph had visited looking for his pa. A sea of tents, rough-hewn cabins, and the stench of unwashed human flesh. However, instead of the wary stares he’d gotten on his trips, the people greeted them as they passed by.
“Howdy, Preacher.”
“Morning, Miss Annabelle.”
Friendly voices, friendly smiles, and if it wasn’t for the tense way Annabelle sat on the horse in front of him, he’d think they were going to meet beloved friends. Children crowded around the horses, and several women looked up from the washing to give a cheerful wave.
The farther they went into the camp, the more Annabelle’s back stiffened.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’ll be fine.”
He might as well have asked if she’d take arsenic in her tea. They stopped near the center of the camp, and as everyone dismounted, he followed suit, then rushed over to lift Nugget down, then to assist Annabelle.
“I can do it,” she said, her voice laced with sadness.
Her father smiled at him. “Now, Annabelle, you’re a lady. Don’t fault a gentleman for treating you as such.”
When her shoulders fell in that resigned way of hers, Joseph felt half-bad for wanting to help her. Now that he’d gotten to know her, had heard about her pain, he wanted to give her space to deal with it.
“I’m sorry for troubling you,” Joseph whispered as he finished helping her off her horse.
He leaned in with one final whisper. “Let me be a friend to you.”
Crystal-blue eyes that could have matched the stream they’d been fishing in filled with water as she shook her head slowly. “Please. Let this be.”
Frank was oblivious to the situation as he neared the campfire and had already begun chatting with the woman who tended it. Joseph watched as she led him into a cabin that appeared to be even rougher than his pa’s.
“Is that where we’re going?”
Annabelle shrugged and looked away.
“Annabelle!” A girl slightly older than Nugget came bounding toward them. “It’s been ages since you’ve come to visit.”
Joseph didn’t have to watch to know Annabelle had stiffened beside him. He could feel it. As much as he wanted to give her some comfort, he had something else to worry about. Nugget had attached herself to his pant leg again. The sweet, cheerful girl had disappeared.
Whatever it was about this camp, he sure didn’t like the effect it had on his womenfolk.
His womenfolk. Joseph shook his head. Annabelle wasn’t his anything.
“I’ve been busy,” Annabelle finally told the girl, her voice thick.
“We’ve missed you.” The girl’s sweet voice didn’t waver. “I miss Susannah.” The last sentence was spoken with such heartbreaking sadness.
“I miss her, too.”
With the way Annabelle’s voice cracked at that admission, Joseph wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to say anything else.
All of this—everything from the time he’d spent with her in their home until now—it was all about the same thing. Annabelle’s crushing grief.
“Annabelle,” her father called, coming out of the cabin. “Bring Joseph and Nugget over so we can get washed up and eat.”
The smell of frying bacon finally hit Joseph’s nostrils. His stomach growled. Though Annabelle’s meal had been wonderful, the meager leftovers they nibbled at this morning hadn’t done enough to satisfy his hunger.
“Is Nugget the horse?” the girl asked, her voice filled with wonder. “We ain’t never had a horse to breakfast.”
“Nugget is my sister,” Joseph answered for Annabelle. “And she’s a little shy, so give her some time to get used to you.”
He nudged Nugget to get her to move forward, but her hands dug farther into his pants. “I’m not hungry.”
Annabelle was no help in the matter, as she just stood there, staring.
“Let’s do as your father says.”
With a soft sigh, Annabelle nodded. “Come on, Nugget.” She held out a hand, as if that hand would somehow make whatever was wrong with Nugget suddenly all right.
Nugget loosened her hold on his pants, then took Annabelle’s hand, still grasping him with the other.
They trudged toward the cabin with painful slowness. Annabelle because she seemed to be doing everything she could to avoid getting there, and Nugget because she wouldn’t let go of Joseph or Annabelle.
“I declare, you are as slow as molasses, Annabelle.” The older woman stepped toward them and wrapped her arms around Annabelle. And, by default, Nugget.
“I don’t know what’s kept you from us for so long, but you are a sight. All skin and bones, what is that Maddie feeding you? Or not feeding you, I should say. Well, never mind that, I just fixed a mess of fresh eggs, and we’ve got bacon and biscuits so flaky you’d think you were eating a cloud. Polly’s becoming quite the cook, aren’t you, Polly?”
The woman stopped her rambling speech to point out a girl stirring a pot over the fire.
“And you must be Joseph. Frank told me all about you. Says you’ve been looking into Bad Billy’s estate. Now that’s a sad state of affairs if I’ve ever heard one. Poor fellow got all mixed up with one of them dance hall girls and, well, she foisted someone’s git on him. At least he died before he had to deal with the heartbreak of finding out she had the pox. Can you—”
“Don’t talk about my mama and papa that way!” Nugget flew from the protection of Joseph and Annabelle, then kicked the woman squarely in the shin before running off.
“Nugget!” Annabelle and Joseph said the name in unison, but Annabelle propelled into action.
“I’ll take care of it,” she called over her shoulder, running after Nugget.
“And she will, you know,” the woman said to Joseph. “Annabelle has a way with children. Such a terrible loss when she stopped coming here to work with the little ones. Come, let’s get you a plate.”
He looked at the woman, still full of cheer, and completely oblivious to Annabelle’s misery.
“Thank you kindly, but I’d better help Annabelle.” He looked her up and down. “And while I’m grateful for your hospitality, I would appreciate it in the future if you’d avoid making such comments about her mother or our father.”
The woman flushed. “I meant no harm. I was only repeating what I—”
Joseph held up a hand. “I’m sure you didn’t. But Nugget is my sister, and I take affronts to her honor seriously.”
“Of course. I...” She looked at Joseph, then over at Fran
k, then back to Joseph. “I apologize.”
“Thank you. I’d better see if Annabelle needs any help.”
He left the woman standing there and headed in the direction he’d seen Nugget and Annabelle run. It didn’t take long to find them, sitting beside a large rock at the edge of camp.
Annabelle held a sobbing Nugget in her arms, rubbing her back, whispering what he assumed to be soothing words into her hair.
“Is she all right?”
“Yes.” Annabelle continued rubbing Nugget’s back. “She’s been so far removed from the gossip for a while that it’s hard to have it come back at her. Especially with being reminded of their deaths. Poor little thing misses her mama and papa, and this just brought all the sadness back up.”
She smoothed Nugget’s hair. “But it’s going to be all right. Everyone’s entitled to be a bit sad from time to time when they miss someone they love.”
The sweet kiss Annabelle pressed to Nugget’s head tore at Joseph’s heart. She wasn’t just offering words of comfort to Nugget, she was telling it to herself.
Who rubbed Annabelle’s back and whispered words of comfort to her?
The wind whipped down the hill, cold against their backs, reminding him that a warm fire and breakfast awaited them.
“We should get back.”
His stomach concurred, grumbling its opinion.
“You go. We’ll just be a little longer.” The smile Annabelle gave him was mixed with sadness and unshed tears.
When did Annabelle get to cry over her losses?
Joseph looked around. Though people milled about the camp nearby, they were still out in the wild. “I don’t—”
“We’ll be fine.” Annabelle pressed Nugget closer into her. “She’s not all cried out yet. It’s best if we let her get it all out.”
More advice that he assumed had to have come from Annabelle’s own life. Something she probably didn’t allow anyone else to see, just like everything in her life. Had things been different for her when her siblings were alive? Back home, he told Mary just about everything. He sure could use her advice now. Of course, he’d never seen Mary cry. But surely she’d know what to do about the situation.
Though Annabelle seemed to have Nugget well in hand, he couldn’t help but wish for something to ease Annabelle’s pain.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” He hoped the look of concern he gave her would be taken in friendship.
She nodded and gave the kind of Annabelle smile he lived for. Would that their lives were simpler. That he didn’t have a family to provide for. Even then, what did he have to offer her, or any other woman?
“Thank you,” he said instead.
“Of course.” Annabelle snuggled Nugget closer in to her. “She just needs time.”
The look she gave him made him wonder if maybe it wasn’t just Nugget she was talking about.
But the impossibility of the situation and his rumbling belly pushed him in the direction of the camp. “I guess I’ll get back then. Try to hurry. Nugget could also use some breakfast.”
At the mention of food, Nugget’s head popped up. “They don’t want the likes of me at their table.”
Then she burrowed back into Annabelle’s shoulder.
Annabelle looked up at him. “I’ll talk to her.”
The memory of Annabelle facing down the woman in the mercantile flashed before him as he realized that his sister would have no greater champion than Annabelle.
“All right.” He looked at her. Annabelle needed a champion, too. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be him.
Joseph returned to the cabin, where Frank was eating outside with a crowd surrounding them.
“Did you find them?”
“Yes.” He took the plate one of the young ladies offered him. “Nugget was hurt by the unkind references to her mother, and Annabelle was making her feel better. She’s still grieving over the loss of her parents.”
The word parents didn’t come so hard as it usually had. Not when he’d seen a little girl crying her eyes out over a mama who was gone. Nugget had woven herself into Joseph’s heart, and for the sake of his sister, he had to let go of his discomfort with where she’d come from. But it didn’t mean he had to forgive his father.
The older woman, Gertie, stood. “I should go to her and apologize. I’m sure Annabelle could use—”
“No.” Joseph looked at Frank, hoping he’d give some assistance. “Annabelle is doing fine, and she...”
Was extremely uncomfortable around Gertie and her family. A person would have to be a fool or blind not to see it. But perhaps it would be indelicate of him to expose her in front of her pa.
Frank nodded. “She’s still grieving, Gert.”
“You know?” Joseph was grateful he hadn’t yet taken a bite of the mouthwatering food in front of him. He’d have choked otherwise.
“Of course I know. I’d be a bad preacher, and an even worse father, if I didn’t see how she tries to shut out everyone who loves her. I keep thinking that given enough time, and around the people she used to love, that she’d get over it, but...”
Frank stared down at his feet, and for the first time, Joseph saw him, not as the faith-filled preacher, but as a man who was trying his best for a daughter he couldn’t reach.
“How is it that I can’t reach my own daughter?”
Annabelle’s shameful secret was shared by her father. She feared him knowing, yet he knew. Worse, he blamed himself.
“You can’t blame yourself, Frank.” Gertie sat beside him and put her arm around him. “She’ll heal when the time is right. You just gotta keep praying.”
Though Frank didn’t seem heartened by Gertie’s words, Joseph realized that in all of this, he hadn’t kept his promise to pray for Annabelle. True, it had only been a few hours since he’d decided that he needed to pray for healing in her relationship with God and her pa, but clearly, with Frank’s pain so plainly displayed, he needed to be more diligent.
“Sir? If I may...” Joseph took a seat across from Frank. “Perhaps you should talk to her about this. When she held Nugget and let her cry, she said that sometimes a person needs to cry until it’s all out. I couldn’t help but wonder if Annabelle has had that opportunity.”
“Annabelle never cries.” Hard eyes stared back at him. Now he knew where Annabelle got it.
“Has anyone ever let her? Have you given her an opening to pour out her heart and share these things rather than let them fester?”
In his own words, he finally saw the truth in Annabelle’s actions and words. She was trying so hard to shove down the grief and pain that she couldn’t express that it was festering.
Joseph took a deep breath and met Frank’s gaze. “Maybe if you talked to her as a father, instead of as a preacher, and just loved her for who she is, instead of her role in your ministry, maybe she could finally heal.”
He expected an Annabelle-like outburst to tell him he’d overstepped his bounds. Instead, those eyes softened as Frank said, “Her mother was always so good at that. I’m just as lost as Annabelle without her.”
“Then tell her that. I think it would help you both.” With that, Joseph turned his attention to his cooling breakfast, knowing that he was dangerously close to interfering more than he ought.
Because as much as he was working toward the reconciliation between Annabelle and her father, he had a feeling that his own homecoming wouldn’t be as smooth. Their pa’s death would be hard enough to take, but the transition to accepting Nugget as their sister was going to be hard on the rest of his family.
One more thing he needed to be diligent about praying for. As selfish as it sounded, finding his pa’s silver would make that acceptance a whole lot easier. But if they had to face poverty with another mouth to feed, he wasn’t sure Mary, or anyone else, w
ould be that generous with accepting Nugget.
Chapter Eleven
Annabelle felt stronger as she returned to Gertie’s cabin. It wasn’t so much that anything had changed, other than the fact that she knew if Nugget was going to be comfortable, she had to be brave. Which meant pretending that it didn’t hurt to see Gertie and her children running and laughing like the world was just fine when Annabelle’s had ended.
“There they are!” Gertie’s cheerful voice rang out, and Annabelle forced herself not to cringe.
“Sorry it took so long.” She avoided Joseph’s gaze. Joseph, who knew her too well for their short acquaintance, would see right through her.
“You just sit right on down and eat.” Gertie handed her a plate while Nugget clung to the back of Annabelle’s skirts. But Gertie was wise to that trick. “And you, too, little one. You’ve got to come out so’s I can give you a plate.”
Annabelle relaxed slightly as Nugget peeked out. “You’re not gonna say mean things to me?”
“No.” To Gertie’s credit, she squatted down to Nugget’s level. “And I shouldn’t have said those things about your parents, either. I’m sorry. You must’ve loved them very much, and I’m sure they must’ve loved you, too.”
Her words brought Nugget out of hiding but didn’t remove the suspicious look from her face. “I am mighty hungry.”
“Then I have a mighty big helping of breakfast for you.”
As Gertie handed Nugget a plate and they all got settled, Annabelle couldn’t help but notice Gertie’s kindness. Gertie had always been a kind woman. It truly wasn’t fair that Annabelle couldn’t bear to be around her mother’s best friend. She didn’t know why it hurt so much, but it did.
Loath to spend any more time here than they had to, Annabelle gobbled up her food as quickly as was polite. At least the first few bites. But she could feel the weight of Joseph’s stare on her and she knew.
He knew exactly what she was doing and why. No matter that she hadn’t told him the full story. He knew.
Why couldn’t he be as oblivious as her father, who sat there, making a whistle out of a twig for the children? He accepted her excuses readily enough, and when she finished eating and suggested that they return home as quickly as possible because Maddie must be worried sick, he would agree.
Rocky Mountain Dreams (Leadville, Co. Book 1) Page 10
