Copper

by Krystal M. Anderson

  “I wanted to ask…” she bit her lip hesitantly before plowing ahead, “if funding the consultant will be a problem. I’d hate to add that to your burdens, Mac.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t have the ability to pay. Don’t worry – the livery doesn’t make me wealthy, but I’ve only had to provide for myself for plenty of years, Joan. I’ve got a good sum saved, and I’m willing to part with a portion of it to get this mine business figured out.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  ~~~~~

  As soon as there had been a lull in business at the livery, Mac left Michael in charge with a promise to return soon. Sweat dripped down his temple as he straightened his hat, thinking how summer had snuck up on him. It seemed the heat had taken many of the town residents indoors, for there wasn’t anybody out on Washington Street with the exception of Old Man Rivers chewing tobacco on his porch, his hound dog lazing at his feet, and a trio of boys running up the hill exuberantly.

  Mac opened the door to the two-story office building, glancing at the shingle hanging from the post that read Daniel Frey and Harold Horner, Attorneys at Law.

  Hal Horner, wearing a frown, was at his desk looking over a stack of papers.

  “Mac,” he rose, shaking the livery owner’s hand, “What brings you to my office? Is everything alright?”

  “Sure it is,” Mac grinned.

  “Take a seat.”

  “Thanks. I suppose you’ve heard about me and Joan?”

  “I have. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I’ve come to ask you a few questions about my wife’s mine. She recently acquired partnership of the Crescent after my brother’s death, and we’d like to see about hiring a consultant. Know anyone?”

  The attorney pressed his lips together in thought. Prior to hanging his shingle here in Silver City, Hal had worked a silver mine himself.

  “I don’t, but I can ask Lukas if he does. I’ll contact him and get back to you.” Mac was acquainted with Hal’s best friend, Lukas Schmidt, a German miner who had a knack for maximizing profit for whichever claim he worked. Only recently, he was pulled from the confines of the silver mine he had purchased from Hal after being trapped underground for nearly three weeks. In Mac’s opinion, it was amazing he’d even considered returning.

  “Fine.”

  “Have you been helping the sheriff look for hard cases recently?”

  “Not since that last posse several weeks ago. I’ve been… occupied.”

  Hal’s knowing smile made him feel defensive.

  “I would help should the sheriff get word of the Grisham Gang. He’ll need all the help he can get to bring those foul men to justice.” He gave Hal a pointed look, inviting him to participate.

  Grinning, Hal said, “You know as well as anyone that I’ve made it my personal mission to end things for Crooked Montgomery… and since he’s thrown in with the Grisham Gang, I aim to take down the whole thing.”

  “What about your wife? The baby?” Hal’s wife, Clara, had been kidnapped last winter by her outlaw uncle, Crooked Montgomery. Mac himself had been a member of the posse formed to catch him, and they’d succeeded, but the cell in Silver City hadn’t held Lester Montgomery for long. Two months ago, he’d been busted out, and word had it he’d up and joined with the Grisham Gang, who’d been causing trouble enough on their own.

  Hal’s eyes softened. “There’s time still. Clara understands and is ready to be rid of her uncle for good. He’s plagued her life far too long as it is, and I’ll not have our baby brought into the family drama. Charlie’s in no position to help, though he’s chomping at the bit for a chance. No sir, Lester must be put away for good this time.”

  Lester had been the source of plenty of tribulation by following his niece, Clara, and his son, Charlie, to Silver City. Charlie was still recovering from several weeks trapped underground, resulting in blindness – a tragedy his own outlaw pa had caused. Charlie and the rest of the survivors – Lukas included - were lucky to be alive; two men hadn’t survived. Mac rested a hand on the attorney’s shoulder. “I know you have a lot at stake, Hal. But you could stay this time. Leave it to the lawmen to catch them.”

  “I can’t do that, Mac. I need to see for myself...”

  They locked eyes, and finally Mac nodded. “I’ll do all I can.”

  He shook Hal’s hand and left, wondering what he was going to tell Joan when he was called upon to leave.

  Eight

  “J esse, wake up. You too, Noah.”

  In the gray light of dawn, Jesse struggled to open heavy eyelids. “Uncle Mac?” he mumbled sleepily.

  Mac knelt so his face was directly in front of Noah’s. “Noah… rise and shine.”

  “What is it, uncle Mac?” Jesse asked, sitting up in the bed he shared with his brother.

  “I need you boys to help me feed the animals and then we’re going to go fishing. Would you like that?”

  Noah’s eyes opened wide. “Yes, pa. But I don’t have a fishing pole.”

  “Don’t you worry about that – you can borrow mine. You two get your clothes on and I’ll go tell your mama to plan on fish for supper tonight, alright?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Creeping quietly so as not to wake Chunhua on the sofa, Mac paused outside his bedroom door, listening for any sounds of movement within. Slowly, he turned the knob, his breath hitching in his throat as he inched to the side of the bed. Joan was curled up under the blanket, lying on her side, her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. With her features relaxed, it seemed as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She was beautiful. A sharp yearning took root in Mac’s heart, and he wondered wistfully how long he’d be sleeping with the animals in the barn rather than here, snuggled beside this woman who had already captured his heart.

  “Joan,” he whispered, unable to resist touching her bare arm. She raised her head and peered at him, clutching the sheets and pulling them up to her shoulders. “I’d like to take the boys fishing. We probably won’t be back until late afternoon. Is that alright with you?”

  She nodded. “Can you wait a half an hour for Chunhua and I to come along? I’ll pack some food.”

  “Sure, I’ve got to feed the animals anyway. Come on over to the livery when you’re ready.”

  As he went through his morning duties, Mac couldn’t keep the smile off his face, even when Ringo shoved him with his head. Showing Jesse and Noah how to scoop oats for the horses, he carried buckets of water to and from the creek to fill the water troughs, whistling as he worked.

  The sky was bright and clear, the perfect sort of day for fishing in the creek. Yes sir, he was happy for the chance to spend time with the children, and the opportunity to look at Joan was an extra advantage.

  When Joan and Chunhua arrived, he fetched his fishing gear from the barn and clasped Noah by the hand, leading his family south toward Sinker Creek. My family. The thought made him puff his chest out with pride.

  “Why’d we have to wake up so early, pa?”

  Mac chuckled. Noah had taken to calling him pa the day after he’d married Joan. It didn’t bother him that Jesse still referred to him as ‘Uncle Mac’. Being older, he’d known his pa better than Noah had before Harris had died. “It’ll be easier to catch fish when they are hungry for their breakfast, Noah.”

  “But what do fish eat?”

  “Do you remember those worms I had you and Jesse dig up last night after supper?”

  Noah’s hair fell across his eyes as he nodded.

  “The fish love ‘em. You just wait.”

  Thirty minutes later, Joan spread a blanket on the grassy banks of the creek and pulled some knitting needles and thread from the hamper containing their picnic while Mac helped the enthusiastic boys bait the hook and sink the line into the water. Little Chunhua sat beside Joan, a doll in her hands, her black hair reflecting the morning sunlight.

  Jesse was a quick learner and had caught and strung a few small fish by the time Noah pulled his fir
st golden brook trout out of the creek. He wore the widest smile Mac had ever seen, made more special because he smiled so rarely. The wriggling fish was barely seven inches, but to Noah, it was the most magnificent specimen in the whole territory. Jesse commented that he couldn’t wait to taste it for supper, and Noah immediately started to cry, insisting it was too pretty a fish to eat.

  “You can’t keep it as a pet, Noah,” Mac began, wrapping his arms around the boy, “but if you don’t want to eat him, you can release him back into the creek.” Sniffing, Noah nodded and stared at his fish a moment more, then gently lowered it to the water. Mac looked to Joan, and when their eyes met, she gave him a small smile.

  As the temperature climbed the fish grew more difficult to catch and Jesse soon lost interest in holding the pole. Joan took the children into the trees and after a few minutes they all returned carrying as many pine cones as they could carry.

  “Let’s have a race!” Joan said, smiling at Jesse’s exuberant whoops. Two smiles in one hour from Joan and Noah’s wide grin made Mac feel like trumpeting from the mountaintop with joy. After listening to some discussion about which pine cones they thought would float best and move downstream fastest, Mac selected his cone and stepped to Joan’s side, grinning boyishly. Perhaps it was the fine summer weather or this particular activity that made Mac feel younger than his thirty-one years.

  “How about a little wager,” he said quiet enough that the children wouldn’t overhear. Joan frowned. “On the pine cone race?”

  “Sure – just between your cone and mine.” The children had already thrown their pinecones into the creek and had followed them downstream a little, leaving Mac and Joan some relative privacy.

  “I am not a betting woman, Mac…”

  He held a placating hand up. “Alright, a contest then. Winner gets a prize.”

  She licked her lips nervously but stepped forward, interested. “What sort of prize?”

  “Why don’t you pick the prize if you win and I’ll choose if I win.” He already knew exactly what he’d claim as his prize, and he was darn set on winning.

  “Fine. First one to pass that rock down there wins the race. Ready, set… go!”

  They tossed their cones into the creek, hers landing several feet in front of his. “So that is how you want to play…” he laughed, cheering his pine cone along. Both got stuck on a protruding stick, but his ducked under it, bobbing along in the stronger part of the current.

  “Go!” he shouted, slapping his knee jovially while Joan simultaneously yelled “No!”

  Mac applauded his cone as it bumped into the rock marking the finish line. “Winner!”

  With a shake of her head, Joan protested. “It hasn’t passed it yet!” Picking up a long stick, Joan pushed her pine cone from the obstacle holding it.

  “No use cheating now, Mrs. Walley. My cone has passed the rock!”

  Instead of slumping in defeat, she shrugged and offered a modest smile. “We didn’t talk about rules, Mr. Walley. Now, can I tempt you with a fresh-baked pie for your prize?”

  Mac shortened the distance between them. “I do love your pies, but…” he took her hands in his and gazed into her upturned face. “You’ve already tempted me with something far more desirable.”

  He saw alarm enter her widened eyes just before his gaze tracked a trail to her parted lips. Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, pausing just before his lips met hers. Joan didn’t move a muscle so he closed his eyes and claimed her lips, his prize. His heart thumped furiously to keep up with the sensations he was experiencing. When he pulled away, Joan’s eyes remained closed a moment more. She hadn’t reciprocated the kiss, but if the dazed look in her eyes was any indication, it left her feeling something pleasant. He wanted to try kissing her again - this time holding her close to his wildly beating heart - but the sounds of chattering voices and sticks cracking underfoot ended his triumphant moment.

  “Uncle Mac, my pine cone won!” Jesse called, holding the dripping cone into the air. “Noah couldn’t even find his, and Chunhua’s got stuck.”

  Unable to peel his gaze from Joan’s flushed cheeks, Mac said, “Well done, Jesse.”

  The children stood quietly, looking from Joan to Mac.

  “Why don’t we have our picnic?” Joan spoke, pulling her hands from his. Mac watched her kneel on the quilt and open the hamper, the boys and Chunhua eagerly sitting beside her. His heart had never felt so full.

  Nine

  J ust because she’d spent a wonderful day fishing with Mac didn’t mean she was falling for him. Neither did the fact she’d had more fun than she could remember ever having. I won’t even spare a thought to the magnificence of that kiss, either, though her pulse jumped double time. No, the warm weather and the laughter of Jesse, Chunhua, and Noah had no doubt softened her heart like butter sitting in the warm sun. She repeated the thought firmly, forcing it to take root. It wasn’t Mac; it wasn’t his strong, wide shoulders or his easy grin; and it most definitely wasn’t the way his lips felt pressed against her own…. because there was only one outcome of getting emotionally attached to a man: disappointment.

  Joan hummed softly as she swept the kitchen floor, the shouts of the children floating in through the open windows. Strange, how drastically life could change in so little time. Two months ago, she’d never have imagined she’d feel so full, so content. Noah came in crying about something Jesse had done, and after wiping his tears and setting things to rights, she followed him out.

  “Mama, look!” Jesse pointed to the livery. Something exciting was happening across the street, no doubt about it. Two men she didn’t recognize clutched a string of horses tied together, six each. Mac walked around the animals, pointing out this one’s legs or that one’s teeth. Examination through, he shook hands with one of the fellows and waved to Joan and the children.

  “What do you think?” he asked Joan with a wide grin as she crossed the dusty road.

  She didn’t know much about horses, but these seemed to be strong and well-mannered. They were leggy and tall, and several had beautiful spots unlike any horse she’d seen before. “Very nice, Mac. Are you going to train them?”

  “These horses don’t need any training – they’re the finest Nez Perce horses the Nez Perce tribe have to offer,” one of the men spoke up, his hat sliding sideways on his dusty head. The other, whose whiskers were untrimmed and contained clods of dirt, nodded proudly. “Yes ma’am, we brought a hundred head of them straight from Oregon. The Nez Perce are meticulous in the breeding of their horses; you could search the entire territory and never find a faster, smarter mount.”

  “I’ve heard so much about them, it’s an exciting day indeed to finally see one in person. They are every bit as sleek and beautiful as I’ve heard.” Mac rubbed his hands together. “I’d love to purchase a stallion and broodmare, see if I can breed them myself.”

  The dirty whiskers twisted as the fellow attached to them pondered the idea. “We are wanting to sell more than two, Mr. Walley. Can you not use more?”

  “I’d love to take them all, sir, but I don’t think it wise to spend all my reserves in one go. Why don’t you join me in the barn? We’ll talk numbers and figure something out.”

  It cheered Joan’s heart to see Mac so enthralled. “See you at supper. Come along you three,” she called over her shoulder to the children.

  “What are we eating tonight, mama?” Noah asked, his hand firmly tucked into her own.

  “I’m roasting some vegetables to go with our salted fish.”

  Noah didn’t have the chance to answer, as two neatly dressed women approached them. “Pardon me,” hailed the taller one with prominent cheekbones and a long chin that came to a point. Her dark, bulging eyes flitted from Jesse to Joan – ignoring Noah and Chunhua completely. “Are you Mrs. Walley?”

  “Joan, yes.”

  The angular woman peered down her nose in disapproval, though Joan wasn’t certain why. The second woman seemed the exact opposite, practically dan
cing on her toes in anticipation of something. Her round face was framed by bouncing orange curls, a wide smile adding another layer to her neck.

  “My name is Vera Schrep and this is Gertie Highman,” continued the lean, somber woman. “We were instructed to call and see if we might enlist your help, seeing as you have a child who will be attending school upon the schoolhouse’s completion.”

  “Two, actually. Chunhua here is old enough to attend.”

  Vera took a step back in disgust. “A Chinese child, schooled alongside the others? You mustn’t be serious!”

  Placing a hand protectively on Chunhua’s shoulder, Joan stood tall. “I am very serious, Mrs. Schrep. She is every bit as intelligent as any other child.”

  The shrew opened her mouth to argue.

  “We’re raising funds,” Gertie practically burst, wringing her pudgy hands together. “The schoolhouse is nearly finished but we haven’t got supplies to fill it. Many of the mothers here in Silver City are organizing to raise funds in the hopes we can order what is necessary to begin the school year in August.”

  “I see. Do you have children, Mrs. Highman?”

  With a bubbly, high-pitched giggle, Gertie said, “I’ve five children, but only three of them are old enough to go to school.”

  “Five! Yours must be a happy home.”

  “Oh, but it is! My oldest, Teddy, the dear, he was so excited when he heard they’d hired Miss Katherine as the school teacher…”

  “Why don’t we adhere to the conversation we came here to have,” Vera interrupted, seeming slightly recovered from her outrage. “Knowing you, Gertie, you’ll share your life’s story with this strange woman before she can get a word in.”

  Joan flinched at the harsh words and the way they made Gertie’s grin disappear.

  “We are going to have a bake sale the tenth of June. Might you have the means to provide several items?”