Gold Rush Bride

by Debra Lee Brown

  Matt’s voice echoed off the cave’s walls and snapped him back to reality.

  “W-what?”

  “Ya stopped diggin’, so I thought maybe—”

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll keep working.” Damn, why couldn’t he get his mind off her? He didn’t want a wife, or a family. He wasn’t cut out for it, and it didn’t fit his plans. He was getting the hell out of here as soon as possible. As far away as he could get.

  “Suit yourself, then.” Matt shrugged, dropped his pickax and crawled toward the pinpoint of light at the cave’s entrance. “I’ll see if I can rustle us up somethin’ to eat.”

  “You do that. Thanks. I could use something.”

  Yeah, like a swift kick in the rear end. Will shook his head at his own fool behavior these past weeks and redoubled his grip on the sledge. A granite boulder wedged between the cave’s narrow walls made it impossible for him to retreat deeper.

  I don’t need her. I don’t want her.

  He swung with all his might and landed the blow, cleaving the boulder in two.

  “You’re sure about this?” Kate eyed the bay mare with trepidation. “She’s awfully big.”

  “Crockett big man. Need big horse.” Mei Li pushed her toward the blacksmith, Mr. Mustart, who stood ready to help her mount.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Dunno,” Mustart said. “Been boarding her here three weeks now, ever since Crockett lost her.”

  “Lost her to Mr. Landerfelt, you mean?” Kate glanced up the street where Eldridge Landerfelt shouted orders at two men tying a tarp over the wagonload of goods he hoped to sell on the road south of town.

  “That’s right. Damn shame, too.” Mustart beckoned her forward. “Okay, grab on to that horn there, put your knee here, and I’ll boost you up.”

  Kate did as she was told, and a few seconds later was in the saddle. It was none too comfortable, especially with her skirts twisted beneath her. She’d only ridden a handful of times. Twice when she was little and they still lived in the country, and once in Clancy Street, when her father had bribed a teamster to let her sit atop one of his Clydesdales while it clip-clopped down the street.

  “Crockett’s been by to see her near every day since, making sure she was doing okay.”

  “She’s a fine animal.” Kate patted the mare’s neck.

  “Can’t believe Landerfelt loaned her to you. Don’t reckon he’s ever done a favor for anyone ’round here, that he didn’t get something in return for it.” Mustart shot her an innocent look that appeared far too practiced for Kate’s liking. “If you know what I mean.”

  “I know exactly what you mean, Mr. Mustart. And I can tell you that Mr. Landerfelt got plenty in return for the use of his horse.”

  “Too much.” Mei Li glared up the street at him.

  They watched as Eldridge Landerfelt settled onto the high seat of Vickery’s modified buckboard and snapped the reins. The wagon rumbled toward them.

  “If we’re lucky, he’ll sell the goods we’ve given him for a lot of money.”

  “We lucky if he come back at all,” Mei Li said. “I think you make bad deal.”

  “So he’s heading south then, toward the strike. Must be some deal, Mrs. Crockett.” Mustart shook his head as Landerfelt approached. “First time I ever seen him do anything himself—without those Packett boys to fetch and carry for him. He must be desperate.”

  “We’re all desperate, Mr. Mustart.” She looked at Mei Li. “Are you ready?”

  “Plenty ready. Clear sky, fast horse. We make good time. Be at claim by noon.”

  Kate looked at the flawless sky. It was the best weather they’d had since she’d arrived in Tinderbox. Mei Li had talked her into closing the store for a day and riding up to Matt Robinson’s claim.

  Why she’d agreed, she didn’t know. She told herself she was going because she didn’t want Mei Li traveling all that way alone. Mr. Cheng and his sons would have a fit if they knew about it. They’d left town early that morning to pick up some day work hauling lumber.

  Mei Li was going. Her mind would not be changed. Kate had tried to talk her out of it, halfheartedly. In the back of her mind, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, Kate knew the real reason she’d agreed to go had little to do with seeing that the girl had a proper escort, and everything to do with seeing Will. If he was really there. If he hadn’t lied to her, as Eldridge Landerfelt had implied.

  Kate looked up as the merchant reined his team of hired oxen to a halt in front of them. Will’s mare started when she saw him, and it was all Kate could do to keep her from bolting.

  “Whoa, girl,” Mustart said, and grabbed the mare’s bridle. “Easy now.”

  “She doesn’t like me much.” Landerfelt grimaced at the mare. “Can’t imagine why.”

  “I can,” Mei Li whispered loud enough for Kate to hear.

  “Sure you won’t change your mind and come with me?” Landerfelt grinned at her, and Kate felt as if she’d just made a pact with the devil.

  She’d thought about his offer all last night. On the one hand, she desperately needed the money that could be made by taking the goods south to where they’d find ready customers. On the other hand, she didn’t trust Eldridge Landerfelt as far as she could throw him.

  Mei Li had cautioned her about entering into any kind of arrangement with him. So had Will, on several occasions. But Will Crockett was gone, and Kate had a feeling he wasn’t coming back. It was up to her now, to do what she thought best.

  Landerfelt had wanted her to come with him. A fifty-fifty proposition. But she had no intention of riding off alone with a man the likes of him. They’d settled on seventy-thirty if he went alone—seventy percent of the profits for him and thirty for her—and Kate had given over to him what was left of the store’s inventory.

  She’d also talked him into loaning her Will’s mare while he was gone. Landerfelt didn’t know, of course, that she and Mei Li intended to ride into the foothills to Matt Robinson’s claim. If he had, he’d never have agreed to the deal.

  “No,” she said. “I won’t be changing my mind, Mr. Landerfelt.”

  “Suit yourself.” He flicked a couple of mud clods off his new snakeskin boots before raking his eyes over her again. “So, it’s riding lessons for you, is it?”

  “Aye.”

  “I wish you’d wait for me to get back. I’d teach you myself.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “But Mr. Mustart, here, will be a fine instructor.”

  “Oh, right. Riding lessons.” Mustart showed all his teeth in as lying a smile as Kate had ever seen. She owed him for that, and for his discretion.

  “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then. Tonight most likely. Tomorrow for sure.” Landerfelt tipped his hat to her, snapped the reins, and the oxen moved on. They all watched as the wagon rumbled south down Main Street and onto the bumpy road leading out of town.

  As soon as the merchant was out of sight, Mei Li raced into the blacksmith’s shed to retrieve their loaded saddlebags and the rifle Kate had inherited from her father.

  Mustart fastened the bags onto the mare’s saddle, stuffed the rifle into the saddle holster and boosted Mei Li up behind her. “I still don’t like it, you two riding out there alone. Crockett’ll have my head if finds out I knew about it.”

  “We’ll be fine, Mr. Mustart. And don’t worry, he won’t find out. I’ve a grand lie all prepared.” Another to add to her growing list. Her next confession would likely take all day. Kate crossed herself for good measure.

  “You’re not back by dark, I’m riding out after you.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be here.” Kate snapped the reins, and the mare lurched forward. She instantly grabbed the saddle horn to steady herself.

  “Maybe riding lesson not bad idea,” Mei Li said. Kate ignored her.

  Mustart waved, and they returned the gesture. On the outskirts of town they left the road, reining the mare east up the wooded hillside toward Matt Robinson’s mining claim. Kate didn’t
know whether to hope Will was there with him, as he’d said he’d be, or not.

  As they took to the rugged trail, Mei Li began to sing in Chinese. If Kate had to venture a guess, she’d bet her last gold piece it was a love song.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Looks like we been skunked.”

  “After all that? The digging and hauling and—” Will stared at the gold pan, blinking the grit out of his eyes, as Matt gently swirled the mixture of mercury, water and crushed rock.

  “Yep. Nothin’ but quartz.”

  Will ground his teeth and counted to ten, controlling the frustration boiling up inside him.

  Men dug up fortunes all around him, every day, poking around streams, caves and washed out tree roots. He’d never wanted to do it. He’d have starved to death first.

  It was her fault. She’d driven him to it. “Here, let me see that.” He grabbed the gold pan and tilted it so the sun shone directly on the beads of mercury.

  “Ain’t nothin’ there, Will. I’m tellin’ ya.”

  He’d abandoned his principles and had stooped to the kind of get-rich-quick scheme he loathed. He deserved to fail.

  “We could always try up west o’ that—”

  “Shut up, Matt.” Will thrust the pan at him, grabbed his pickax and started for the cave.

  “It ain’t my fault, ya know.”

  “It’s nobody’s damned fault.” Nobody’s but his own. He had two weeks left. Two. After that, there’d be no getting out—for him or for her.

  On hands and knees Will scrambled back into the cave, dragging the pickax behind him. Matt called after him, shouting something unintelligible, but Will ignored it. Gripping the ax, he narrowed his gaze on a thick quartz vein running along an untouched wall of the dimly lit cavern.

  Matt’s voice—a lot closer now—interrupted. “You’d best get out here, partner.”

  Will swore, trying out a couple of the Irish words he’d heard Kate use that day on the ride down the hill from the elderberry patch. Tossing the ax aside, he scrambled back out of the cave, squinting against the sunlight. “What is it now?”

  The words froze in his throat, as his gaze fixed on the bay mare—his mare—grazing in the clearing where he and Matt had made their camp.

  Landerfelt. It had to be.

  Will’s pistol was in his hand before the thought even registered. He whirled left, then right. And stopped dead. Matt and Mei Li stood in the shade of a massive oak.

  “What the hell?” He marched over to them, holstering his gun on the way, and scanned the trees for signs of others. He saw no one. Mei Li was going on about something, using her hands when her English failed her.

  Matt saw him coming. “You’d best hear this.” He turned his attention back to Mei Li. “Go on. Tell him.”

  The girl’s eyes grew wide as saucers as Will approached. She shook her head quickly. “No. You tell.”

  “Tell me what? And what are you doing with my horse? Landerfelt’s horse.”

  “He loaned it to ’em,” Matt said.

  “Them? You mean—?” Will shaded his eyes against the sun and scanned the tree line again, this time for Kate. He felt his mouth go dry and his heartbeat quicken.

  “She ain’t here.”

  A stab of disappointment twisted inside him. “Good. She ought to be in town where she belongs. Speaking of which—” he turned to Mei Li “—what are you doing out here on your own?”

  “I not alone. Not at first. Miss Kate come, too. But—”

  “Where is she?” A vision of her lying dead at the bottom of a ravine flashed hideously across his mind.

  “On trail to Sac City. Men come and—”

  “What men?” He grabbed Mei Li. “What happened? Did they hurt her? Is she—”

  “Whoa, partner.” Matt peeled Will’s hands from Mei Li’s narrow shoulders. “She’s fine. It’s just that they was on their way here to pay us a visit, when Mustart sent a couple o’ town boys out after ’em.”

  “Why? For what?”

  “Dunnett drove his wagon plumb off a cliff near Spanish Camp. Busted a wheel. Stuff scattered everywhere.”

  “Our new stock, you mean?” It was half paid for already, damn it. Not that it mattered, since business in Tinderbox had dropped off to nothing.

  Mei Li tugged at Will’s sleeve. “Miss Kate go back with men. I think bad idea, but she stubborn as mule. I come here, fetch you.”

  “Which men? Who were they?”

  “Floyd Canter,” Matt said.

  “The town drunk?” Will bit back a string of swearwords.

  “Yes, that him.” Mei Li wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And other man I not know. Never see before.”

  Will snatched Matt’s rifle off his bedroll next to the dead campfire. “I’m borrowing this.”

  “Take it.”

  “Here. This, too.” Mei Li pulled Kate’s pepperbox revolver out of the pocket of her long, blue tunic.

  “You keep it. But I’m taking my horse. She’s a damn sight faster than Dennington’s old nag.” He grabbed his buckskin coat and fur hat off the boulder where he’d left them, vaulted onto the mare’s back and thrust Matt’s rifle into the empty saddle holster. “She take her father’s rifle?”

  Mei Li nodded.

  At least that was something. One smart move on top of two stupid ones—thinking to ride out here in the first place, and going anywhere with Floyd Canter. He reined the mare west into the sun, then turned in the saddle. “You said Landerfelt loaned you the horse. Why?”

  Mei Li bit her lip and looked to Matt, her eyes widening.

  “Well? Spit it out.”

  “You ain’t gonna like it, Will.”

  Mei Li took a tentative step toward him. “Miss Kate make deal with Landerfelt. He borrow wagon and ox, take store goods south to new strike.”

  “Whose goods?”

  “All he have left. And Miss Kate’s, too.”

  “She let him?” Will couldn’t believe it.

  Mei Li nodded. “For share of profit, and loan of horse. No choice, she say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Matt slid an arm around Mei Li’s shoulders. “Seems your wife didn’t think you’d be comin’ back.”

  “If I was smart I wouldn’t.”

  “But you ain’t smart.” Matt grinned. “Now is ya?”

  Will snapped the reins, and the mare sprang into action.

  “I’m right behind ya,” Matt called after him, “as soon as I get Mei Li home.”

  “What about horse?” Mei Li ran alongside the bay mare, waving at Will. “I no take back, Landerfelt plenty mad.”

  “I’ll give him something to be mad about.” Will dug his heels into the mare’s sides and she shot west into the woods toward Tinderbox.

  He plucked the painted miniature from his pocket and squeezed until its sharp-edged frame drew blood from his palm. If he stayed mad at her long enough, it might just stave off the fear twisting in his gut.

  Kate put a handkerchief to her nose, but it did no good. The stench of whiskey and sweat and sour breath nearly choked her. Four hours wedged like a tinned kipper on a wagon seat between Floyd Canter and his hungover friend Ezekiel was more than she could bear.

  “Can’t we go any faster?”

  The mule team clomped along the rocky road at a pace twice as slow as she could have walked it.

  “Get up thar, mules!” Floyd cracked his whip in the air and snapped the jerk-line. The team picked up its pace. “Lucky for you we was making this trip today, Miz Crockett.”

  “Aye, lucky me. How much farther.”

  “Just ’round that bend up there.” Floyd nodded off in the distance at what looked to be a crossroads.

  The sun had already begun to dip in the western sky. Late afternoon, if Kate had to guess. “I hope we’re not too late.”

  Mr. Mustart had conveyed the news that Dan Dunnett’s wagon had gone off the road somewhere west of the small tent city the miners called Spanish Camp. Looters were t
hought to be the cause.

  That morning Floyd Canter and his friend had been charged with running a mule team back that way for a couple of teamsters who’d taken sick on the trail. Something about bad water. They must have been desperate, in Kate’s estimation, to entrust the task to these two. She held her breath as she cast them each a sideways glance.

  Mustart had tried to stop her from going, had begged her to wait until Will could be fetched from the claim. But she wasn’t certain Will was even at the claim, or if he was, if he’d come. She hadn’t had any choice but to go with Floyd and Ezekiel. Vickery was out of town that day, as were the Chengs, and Mustart wouldn’t leave his business, even for an afternoon.

  Kate pursed her lips, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Gold had been paid in advance for those goods. And if Will Crockett never returned, she’d need the profits they’d bring more than ever. If business didn’t pick up in Tinderbox, she’d just have to do as Mr. Landerfelt had, and go south.

  They rounded the bend and Kate frowned. Thirty or so canvas tents of various sizes lined both sides of the deeply rutted road. It was hardly what she’d call a city. “This is it?”

  “Yep. Spanish Camp.” Floyd maneuvered the mule team into a trampled clearing off to the side, and the wagon jerked to a halt.

  Men crisscrossed the road hauling mining equipment and leading pack animals, ducking into tents and crouching around campfires to talk. It was a busy place. One man waved to them, and Floyd Canter waved back.

  Kate peered up the road to where it disappeared again into the trees. “Mr. Dunnett’s wagon should be somewhere up ahead.”

  “So them teamsters said.” Floyd hopped down from the wagon and held out a grimy hand to her.

  Kate ignored it and jumped, managing to land on her feet. “And you’ll help me? To find Mr. Dunnett, and get the load back to Tinderbox?”

  “Course we will. As soon as Ezekiel and me wet our whistles.”

  Ezekiel was already making a beeline for one of the tents. Floyd tossed the jerk-line to the man who’d waved—he’d apparently been expecting them—and followed in his friend’s wake.

  Kate eyed the tent. It was monstrously huge and finer than any of the others. A sign was posted outside of it, but she had no idea what it said. She’d seen dozens of saloons and gaming hells set up in tents just like this one in Sacramento City. San Francisco, too. Mr. Cheng ran a similar establishment in the Chinese camp at Tinderbox, though Kate had never been inside it.