“Gracious!” Betsy hurried toward them. “Let’s get you by the fire to dry off. You’ll catch your death. What were you thinking, going out in that storm?”
“It caught me unawares. We were out looking at some of my pa’s claims, hoping to find clues as to the location of his silver. On the way back, I got caught in a flash flood.”
He didn’t bother explaining about Slade, or how it was really the expert’s fault they were in this mess. Especially since Betsy was shaking her head and clucking about risking one’s life for silver.
“You sound just like Annabelle,” he said as a way of trying to be friendly and breaking the ice.
Betsy stepped back. “Annabelle? I’m nothing like her. She’s a preacher’s daughter.”
“Betsy...” Wes’s warning came from the corner.
“It’s all right.” Joseph accepted the blanket Betsy handed him. “Sounds like you just need to get to know Annabelle better. She’s one of the kindest people I know. She’s been helping take care of my sister, and I can honestly say I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Betsy stared at him for a moment, then looked over at Wes. “That’s what he’s been telling me, but I don’t know. I can’t imagine her wanting to be friends with the likes of me.”
Joseph wanted to continue defending her, but the more he rose to her defense, the more it looked like his feelings were more... Well, they... He shook his head. The woman was going to drive him crazy by the time he was done.
“Maybe you should invite her over. I’m sure she’d be honored to have you as a friend.” Joseph’s stomach ached. That was the worst part of the situation and him trying to be her friend. He’d be leaving soon, and things would be all the worse for Annabelle.
Betsy turned away, like she didn’t want to continue arguing the point. Joseph had to start learning to mind his own business, especially where Annabelle was concerned.
Wes returned, carrying a pile of clothes. “Betsy’ll turn her back while you get these on.”
Joseph changed as quickly as he could. “I’m finished,” he said as he buttoned the last button on the shirt.
“Based on you riding Frank’s best horse, and what you’ve said, I presume you’re Billy’s boy.” Wes looked at him, studying.
“Yes.”
It couldn’t be that bad if Wes already figured him out, but still supplied him with clean clothes anyway, right?
“Did you know my pa?”
Wes nodded slowly. “I took care of his horse. Had to sell it, though, to pay his past due on the stabling.”
If his pa had silver, why couldn’t he pay the stable?
“Mighty fine horse.” Wes stroked his chin. “I always wondered where he got the money for it.”
“Maybe he won it in a card game.”
Wes shook his head. “Not Billy. He was terrible at cards. Used to say that losing was God’s punishment for adding that to his multitude of sins.”
It sounded almost as if Wes knew his pa. “Were you friends?”
“As much as a body could be, I suppose.” Wes handed him a cup of coffee. “Billy mostly kept his own counsel. Visited that girl he had over on State Street, but didn’t spend too much time getting friendly with others.”
The description didn’t fit with what he’d been told about his pa. “Everyone I’ve talked to has spoken poorly of him.”
The fire crackled in response, because Wes just stood there, as though he was carefully considering his words.
Then finally, “Well, I suppose he didn’t do much to endear himself to anyone. Especially Slim Deckert. When Billy heard he’d roughed up one of the girls over at Miss Betty’s, he went and beat the daylights out of him. No one understood why he’d take up for a woman like that, but Billy just muttered that he had a daughter her age, and that she had to be somebody’s daughter.”
Another story that didn’t mesh with either his view of his pa, or the stories he’d heard. Though the name intrigued him. Slim was the guy his pa supposedly cheated to get the mine he’d just looked at.
“How did that make him unpopular?”
Wes shrugged. “There’s two types of people in this town. One that wants to get rid of the women. They’d just as soon have them sent away and everything cleaned up nicely. The other type wants them so’s they can use them, if you know what I mean.”
The collar of the unfamiliar shirt felt tight around Joseph’s neck. Yes, he knew what Wes meant. Because clearly his pa had taken advantage of the latter.
“Billy, he wasn’t neither. He saw a man for who and what he was, and he didn’t make no pretense otherwise. Didn’t matter if a man wore fancy clothes or drove a nice rig. If the man was a snake, he called him a snake. The snakes around here didn’t like that none.”
Wes’s eyes narrowed as he motioned to Joseph to lean in more. “There’s plenty of folks who wanted your pa dead, and not for any of the reasons you’d think.”
Not a very helpful answer. “But was there silver?”
“I don’t know. No one knows for sure. Only Billy, and he’s dead now.”
So close to answers, yet none that he sought. “Is there anything you can tell me that would be helpful? I just looked at a mine he supposedly won in a card game from Slim.”
“I’ve heard that tale.” Wes shrugged. “And even though Lon, the dealer, supports Slim’s side of the story, I never bought it. Like I said, Billy was terrible at cards.”
Which only made everything all the more murky. And made his pa’s death all the more likely to have been murder. But it didn’t give him any answers.
“If anyone knows anything, it would be the kid,” Wes continued. “Billy doted on her. When her ma took ill, he cared for that little girl himself. Paid Miss Betty well to keep Lily and the child.”
Money he could have sent home. While part of Joseph admired that his pa did the honorable thing with his mistress and their child, the other part stung at the thought of his mother and siblings struggling. How was he supposed to forgive a man for letting one family starve while supporting the other?
“Why’d he keep them at that place? Surely he’d put them in a house or something like that.”
“For a while, they lived at his cabin. But when Lily got sick, she needed to be close to the doctor. None of the decent boardinghouses would have her, given her old profession. Besides, her friends were all at Miss Betty’s.”
It was strange to think that a person would be more comfortable in a house of ill repute than anywhere else. Especially with a child.
“Plus, if you ask me—” Wes lowered his voice again “—I heard talk of some men out to get Billy. I imagine he wanted to keep his family safe.”
“How do you know all this? And why doesn’t Frank know?”
“Billy was afraid of putting the preacher in danger. He figured he’d risked enough by giving him his papers to hold, but the preacher’s safe is the safest in town, other than at the bank. And Billy had his reasons for not wanting to go to the bank.”
“But that doesn’t answer my question. How do you know all this?”
“Because...” He lowered his voice even further.
“Oh, for land’s sakes, Wes. Just tell him already. I’m not some delicate flower you have to protect.”
Betsy came and stood in their midst. “I used to work at Miss Betty’s with Lily. Wes and I fell in love, but given my profession, we were afraid that if people knew, they wouldn’t do business with Wes anymore. So we pretended like I was new to town, and everyone believed it. Except Billy, who recognized me from his visits to Lily.”
She gave Wes a sharp glare. “Billy would sometimes bring Lily over to see me. None of the womenfolk here in town were all that friendly to me. I always imagined that they figured out who I really was, even though no one has ever said anythin
g. It’s like no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the stain of my former job off me.”
The longing on her face wrenched Joseph’s heart in two. “You told me I should seek out Miss Annabelle. But I ask you, what do I have to offer a fine young lady like her? I’m not fit company, and if her pa knew what I used to do, he’d never allow it.”
Obviously Betsy didn’t know Frank all that well. “If that’s so, then why does he let her take care of Nugget?”
“She’s a child. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Not like me.”
The pain in the woman’s eyes made him realize that she had far more in common with Annabelle than she thought. He looked over at Wes, then back at Betsy. “Clearly you haven’t been to church enough. Because there you’d learn that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Anyone who would judge you is just as guilty of sin as you are.”
“I knew I liked you,” Wes said with a grin. “I can see why Frank is so keen on you. You’re a good man. I hope you find your pa’s silver. If anyone deserves it, you do.”
Unfortunately, he was learning that finding silver had nothing to do with deserving it. Just like the misfortunes that befell people. Frank and Annabelle didn’t deserve the tragedy they’d experienced, but it had come anyway. So, too, had the hardships come to Joseph and his.
But somehow, some way, Joseph was going to make it right.
Betsy handed him a bowl of soup. “Eat this. After being in that storm, it’ll do you good. Keep you from catching cold.”
Between sips of soup, Joseph further relayed the events on the mountain. Even as the soup warmed him, his bones ached with the chill of being so close to death. Again, he couldn’t help but thank God for keeping him safe. Surely, by the worried expressions on his new friends’ faces, God’s hand had been on him the entire time.
“Wait a second.” Wes stared at him. “You’re telling me that right before the big rockslide, you heard a boom?”
Joseph nodded. “Yes. Lightning must’ve struck and loosened the rocks.”
“I don’t think so. It would do that to a tree, maybe, but boulders? A slide that big had to have come from something like dynamite. Your story sounds a lot like what miners have described as being caught in when they’ve set the dynamite wrong.”
The concern on Wes’s face brought the chill back to Joseph. “It did sound different from the lightning strikes, now that you mention it.”
Wouldn’t Slade have known the difference? “So why didn’t Slade come back to see if I was all right?”
He’d told himself it was because the situation was so dangerous, but wouldn’t a man of God, the right-hand man of the preacher who’d assigned him to take care of Joseph, have checked?
Betsy’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell you why. Because Slade’s dirty. The preacher doesn’t see it, because he always sees the best in everyone. I’m telling you, Slade is the worst of them all.”
Wes nodded, his lips drawn in a thin line. “You can tell a lot about a man by how he takes care of his horse. Slade’s ruined many a good animal. I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, but I have to agree. If I were a betting man, I’d go all in on the notion that Slade caused that landslide.”
It just didn’t seem right. Not with how highly Frank regarded the other man. “Has he been in any trouble? Done anything that would make you think...?”
Wes shook his head. “Nothing that could be proven.” He frowned. “Not even enough that I could go to the preacher with. It just seemed like I’d be speaking ill of someone without cause.”
Unfortunately that didn’t do any of them any good with Annabelle and Nugget at stake. Surely he wouldn’t hurt Annabelle. Not since they’d made up.
“He wouldn’t hurt Annabelle, though, would he? I mean, everyone says—”
“Don’t trust him with her,” Betsy said too quickly. “We learned real quick at Miss Betty’s to be busy when Slade came around. He liked doing things, bad things, and the more the girl cried, the better he liked it. I’m telling you, he might put on a pleasing attitude in public, but that man likes hurting people.”
Betsy didn’t need to go into detail for Joseph to feel sick.
“Why would he finally show his true colors now?” Joseph looked at the two, hoping that there was some way they could be wrong. That all of this wasn’t true. Because if it was, Slade was on his way back to the camp with no one there to protect Nugget and Annabelle.
Wes looked at him intently. “Because you must’ve been close to finding the silver. I always thought that your pa’s death was suspicious. He was having an assayer come all the way up from Denver, so why would he get drunk and accidentally fall into a ravine the day before?”
Because his pa had always had a weakness for the drink. “Maybe he was celebrating prematurely.”
Or maybe, based on Slade’s evasive answers, he was pushed.
“Slade was trying to talk me into selling the claims to a land agent.”
“Who’d he recommend?”
“He didn’t say.”
But with the strong hints that Slade gave, Joseph was sure he’d probably had someone in mind. He’d almost been convinced to go ahead and do it. And maybe, had Slade been patient enough to not try to kill him, Joseph would have.
Now, knowing what he knew, Joseph had no choice but to see it through.
First, though, he had to find a way to keep Annabelle and Nugget safe.
Chapter Nineteen
Gertie had decided that Annabelle’s foot wasn’t healed enough to help with the laundry or much of anything else. Probably not a bad thing, considering that if she stepped on it just right, tears still sprang to her eyes. So she’d brought the children to collect wildflowers. Still within sight of the camp, but far enough that Annabelle could have a moment’s peace while two little girls scampered in the meadow and picked flowers.
Annabelle had found a nice rock to sun herself on, and the girls’ laughter was enough to almost lull her into a nap. Not that she’d do such a thing, of course. Especially since every time she closed her eyes, Joseph’s smile haunted her.
Fortunately any other flight of fantasy in regards to the man too handsome for his own good was interrupted by Gertie’s dinner bell. She held out her hands to the little girls. “I believe we have enough flowers to decorate the table. Let’s take these back to Gertie to see what we can come up with.”
The little girls gathered their baskets and took Annabelle’s hands. Except Nugget’s grasp seemed a little less firm than usual.
Gertie’s cabin was within eyesight. “Caitlin, could you bring the baskets to your mother? Nugget and I will be right there.”
Caitlin nodded solemnly, then scampered off. Annabelle knelt in front of Nugget.
“What’s wrong, sweet pea?”
She wrapped her arms around Nugget, who remained stiff and didn’t return the embrace. Annabelle kissed the top of the little girl’s head.
“You’re going away.” Nugget finally looked up at her, tears streaming down her face.
“Where did you hear that?”
Nugget sniffed. “Your pa was telling Caitlin’s ma. Then I heard you telling Joseph.”
Annabelle rubbed Nugget’s back. She should have been happy at the victory of finally being able to leave, but all it did was make her feel as miserable as the tears running down the little girl’s cheeks. “So are you, remember? Joseph is going to take you to meet your other brother and sisters. You’re going to finally be a family.”
Light shone in Nugget’s eyes. “You’re coming with us?”
“No.” Annabelle shook her head. “It wouldn’t be proper. But I know they’re going to love you.”
“What if they’re mean?” Nugget asked in a tiny voice. “Who will protect me?”
Annabelle closed her eyes. Please, Lord. You don
’t answer prayers for me, but could You please honor this little girl? She doesn’t deserve this.
She opened her eyes and looked at Nugget. “You’ll have Joseph.”
“He’s not you.”
How did a person respond to such a thing?
“We’ll write letters. And perhaps we can find a way to visit.”
From the child’s expression, she could tell that Nugget wasn’t too keen on either of those ideas.
“I want you with me always.”
Nugget flung her arms around Annabelle and clung as though she expected someone to separate them right away. But Annabelle wouldn’t be so fortunate. She already knew that. She’d have more time to fall deeper in love with the girl so that when she was finally wrenched away, her heart would be broken into tinier pieces than it already was.
The pain of losing shouldn’t be as bad, having already lost so much. But it seemed like this time, it was even crueler, given her vows not to be attached and the way Nugget had crawled in anyway.
As Annabelle and Nugget headed for the cabin, the first drops of rain began to fall.
“Come on, sweet pea, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to stay dry.”
“Look what we have here.” One of the men from the previous day stepped in their path.
Annabelle grimaced as he gave her a toothless sneer. From her discussion with Slade yesterday, she surmised him to be Pokey Simpkins, which meant the other guy must be Bart Wallace. Not that knowing their names changed anything.
“Looks like our sparrow that got away,” Bart said.
Annabelle turned to run in the other direction, but Tom, the very man she had been fighting with Polly over, had come behind her. “I don’t think so. You and the brat are coming with us.”
“Run, Nugget,” Annabelle shouted, but it was too late.
Bart had her securely in his arms, and even though the little girl was kicking and screaming, it did no good.
At that moment, the sky decided to open up into an all-out downpour. Everyone within shouting distance was scurrying for cover and shouting their own instructions to their people to keep safe.
Rocky Mountain Dreams (Leadville, Co. Book 1) Page 18
