“Yes, we do,” she answered. “I’ll wash my hands and serve some with the fish.”
Cole hid his grin again as Whiskey Jack lifted both brows until they almost touched his cap. The old man rose off his stump. “Well, come on, boy, guess we better wash, too.” He waved his stick at his bird. “Don’t touch my fish or you’ll be in that pan for breakfast.”
The bird squawked and strutted toward the water along with everyone else.
“Women like to do that,” Whiskey Jack said. “Turn everyone into raccoons. Washing hands. Washing food. Washing clothes.”
Already having enough to think about, Cole held his opinion, and shortly they all walked back to the fire, where they ate fish and raisins.
Maddie enamored Whiskey Jack as quickly as she had Truman Schlagel back in Bittersweet. She captivated Homer, too. The bird rubbed his head against her knee like a housecat looking for a scratch.
Gran would be impressed. She’d told him to watch out for silly and prissy women. Gran had been the only one who understood how smothered he’d felt by his mother. Rachel, too.
Cole was lost in imagining Gran and Maddie meeting when a squawk brought his attention back to the present. Maddie and Whiskey Jack were laughing at how Homer was saying Maddie’s name and squawking with self-imposed pride at getting it right.
“You have a protector, now, girl,” Whiskey Jack said. “Not even a grizzly bear would dare get close to you. Homer will see to that.”
Maddie laughed. “He can be a bit frightful.”
Before Whiskey Jack started in praising his bird again, Cole rose to his feet. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He winked at the concern in Maddie’s gaze and grinned as her cheeks turned red. Getting such reactions out of her gave him an inner thrill. However, this afternoon still weighed heavy on his mind. Maddie could have died falling off that ridge.
In the first tent he found her bag of clothes and then gathered up their blankets. Bundling everything together, he carried it all into the next tent. There he cleared out a space on the canvas covering the ground and, using some of the furs piled in one corner, made a pallet, adding their blankets to the top and setting her bag of clothes on top of them. She’d want to change out of her muddy dress before going to bed, and a flash of her wearing little more than her underclothes danced in his head. He wouldn’t mind snuggling up to her dressed like that, or not dressed at all.
Cole shook his head, trying to shatter the idea, but it had stuck, and would take a very strong will to make it disappear.
He returned to the fire. “Everything’s in the tent,” he said before nodding toward the sun that was level with the earth, yet neither sinking nor rising. “It’s been a long day.”
A tremendous sigh gathered inside Maddie. She didn’t want to be rude, but she was exhausted. Thanking Lucky for his thoughtfulness with a nod, she brushed a hand over Homer’s head one last time before gathering her skirt to rise off the stump. The crusted mud was hard beneath her palm, and she turned to Lucky, wondering how to tell him she’d need some time alone.
“I assumed you’d like to change,” he said, taking a seat on the stump he’d sat on earlier. “I put your bag in the tent.”
A rush of warmth flooded her system, including her cheeks. She’d never met anyone as considerate as him.
“Take your time,” he said. “I’m going to visit for a while.”
A bit tongue-tied, Maddie nodded before managing to whisper, “Thank you.”
The endearing warmth she felt heightened as she entered the tent. Lucky had also laid out a pallet for them to sleep upon, complete with their blankets. The sight of her bundle of clothes made her feel a bit misty-eyed. Smitty had watched out for her, but not even he had been as caring as Lucky. She didn’t know what to think of all that, nor how to act.
Kissing him this afternoon still hovered in her thoughts, which was frustrating. Now that they’d arrived, gold should be the only thing on her mind.
Convinced she could control whatever was going on inside her, Maddie pulled her clean clothes from the bag and shook the wrinkles from the dress Mrs. Smother had provided. It was a colorless gray—the blue one she’d put on after her bath had disappeared after that first night. This one was a lot like her old one and as serviceable. She’d added the cost of it to the funds she owed Trig. Other dresses came to mind once more, colorful, fancy ones, and this time she wondered what Lucky would think seeing her dressed in such clothing.
“Maddie?”
She dropped the dress and wrung her shaky hands together as she walked to the flap to stick her head out.
“Here.” Lucky handed her a bucket. “It’s warm water.”
Her cheeks grew hot. He certainly knew her habits. “Thank you.”
With her heart fluttering, Maddie carried the bucket across the tent, where she removed her dirty clothes and washed thoroughly before donning her clean outfit, right down to her socks and pantaloons. She folded the dirty ones—which she’d take the time to wash tomorrow—before replacing everything in her bag. After brushing out her hair, she carried the water outside, dumped it behind the tent and went farther into the brush to take care of business before she brought the empty bucket back to where the men sat.
They were quietly conversing, but stopped as she neared. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said as they turned her way. Unsure what to say when they both remained silent, staring at her attentively, she said, “Thank you again, Jack, for the fish. They were delicious.”
“My pleasure,” he answered.
Still not sure why they looked at her so, Maddie glanced down at her dress. Having left her coat inside the tent, she ran a hand over the buttons, assuring they were fastened. Finding nothing out of the ordinary for them to be curious about, she nodded. “Good night, then.”
Once in the tent, she removed her boots again, and her socks, stuffing them inside the boots before climbing beneath the covers. Rubbing her cold toes together, she curled onto her side, wondering when Lucky would retire. She’d grown used to his warmth, and after her cleansing, felt chilled to the bone by the night air.
A fleeting thought entered her mind, and she glanced toward the tent flap. Perhaps Lucky wouldn’t join her. He might have told Jack they weren’t married. That could have been why they were both staring at her so. A great wave of disappointment rose inside her. Pretending to be Lucky’s wife had given her a sense of security she’d never known. She’d felt contented last night when he’d explained that he’d continued the ruse for her protection. Which was about as confusing as his kisses.
Maddie rolled over onto her other side and tugged the covers over her shoulder while trying to make her mind center on gold. And finding it. Soon.
* * *
Though he tried, Cole couldn’t keep from glancing at the tent every few minutes. Figuring there was no sense putting it off, he stretched and rousted up a yawn. “I think it’s time for me to turn in.”
“Can’t blame you,” Whiskey Jack said. “If I had that warming my bed, I’d probably never leave it.”
Pin prickles shot up his spine, and Cole considered admitting he and Maddie weren’t married, or anything close to that, but in truth he didn’t mind letting the tale continue. At least for a bit longer. It was safer for others to believe they were married—for her—and he didn’t mind being the one offering the protection. “See you in the morning.”
Whiskey Jack laughed, Homer squawked and a hint of guilt rolled inside Cole as he walked to the tent. He certainly didn’t mind people believing she was his. That he was that lucky. She’d unbraided her hair, leaving the long black tresses hanging down her back, and when the light of the fire had caught in the glistening strands, they’d sparkled as if sprinkled with gold. Her cheeks had glowed, too, and her eyes looked so blue they’d practically mesmerized him.
He’d not
iced her attractiveness the night he’d pulled her onto that horse, but as time went by, he’d come to realize few women, if any, matched her beauty. Maybe that was what was growing on him. Though he’d lived a sailor’s life the past few years, he’d grown up surrounded by fine and beautiful things and hadn’t noticed he missed them until Maddie.
That was exactly where his mind should be. Home, and finding the gold his family needed. He hadn’t wanted a wife when he’d left and still didn’t. Especially not once he found his gold. His mother would prosecute him if he came home with one after walking out on Rachel.
Lucky entered the tent and quietly removed his coat and then his boots. Though he was trying not to, he couldn’t help but think how lying next to Maddie each night had become a refuge he’d never encountered and an adventure he’d come to look forward to, even though it spiked his desires insurmountably.
She rolled when he lifted the blanket, glancing up at him with those remarkable eyes, now glossy from sleep. A smile touched her lips, too, and everything inside him listed like a ship hitting ten-foot swells.
“It’s cold,” she said drowsily.
“I’ll warm you,” he whispered, crawling in beside her.
Her little murmur of contentment fueled and worried him at the same time. He was playing with a loaded gun and would soon have to set it aside or fire. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure if he could live with either choice. They both had a list of consequences. Long lists.
* * *
The next few days flew by. They staked their claims and chose the spot to set up camp. Though the ground was different here, Maddie used what Smitty had taught her about how to trust her instincts, sense when something tugged inside her. Similar to how she knew when a storm was about to hit. But she’d had a hard time of it recently. Lucky’s effect on her meant that finding the tug, that little thrill that said gold was near, took deep concentration, and she wasn’t overly confident she’d found it. Others were moving in, though, miners from all over. Knowing they had to stake their ground, she’d picked out a tract of land that had made her heart skip a beat.
She hoped that meant there was gold. Truth was, when she’d seen Lucky standing on the little hill next to the riverbed, with the sun shining behind him and the water glistening before him, gold may not have had anything to do with the fluttering of her insides. Lucky hadn’t kissed her again, and wanting him to was consuming her.
Jack had said she’d chosen a good spot. So had Lucky, and the two of them had wasted no time in building a tent—complete with a wooden floor of logs they’d sawed in two. More logs had been used to build the base of the tent, which stood almost as tall as she did. The canvas they’d used for tents on the trail made up the rest of the walls and the roof. They’d built furniture, too—three-legged chairs and a table, as well as a bed. It was all rough looking, with bark-covered logs making up the legs and the entire bed frame, but Maddie grew a bit misty-eyed every time she entered the tent. In all actuality, this was the finest place she’d ever called home.
Lucky had added rope stays to the bed and piled them full of furs from Jack, providing her with her first real bed. She doubted, not even with loads of money, could she buy one more comfortable or warm. Most of the warmth, though, came from Lucky, when they snuggled close together at night.
That, however, hadn’t happened the past couple of nights. Lucky was mad at her again. Not talking, like when they’d first left Dabbler. He refused to look at her, too.
She knew why, but they were here to find gold. Not build a homestead, which was what he seemed to be focused on. Having a warm, comfortable spot to bed down every night and wood already chopped and stacked nearby to throw on the fire was handy, and she appreciated it, but all that took time away from what they should be doing. She’d told him that; his answer was that once they started mining gold, it would take all their time, so they needed to have everything else done already. Although this made sense to Maddie, it wasn’t how she was used to doing things, and that grated on her nerves.
He’d even made a trip to Bittersweet to buy more supplies. The trip by river—there and back—took far less than a day. Jack had a small boat Lucky had used. Explaining which tributary to take off the main river to find his claim was almost impossible, Jack had said, which was why he’d suggested they take the land route the first time in. But once you rowed out of it, he said, finding your way back wasn’t a problem.
Though Lucky had asked, she hadn’t gone with him. Thought it a waste of time and money, and when he’d returned, with six laying hens—so they’d have eggs—she was even more irritated. Eggs were as precious as gold in the Yukon. Only a foolish man would pen up chickens. Their clucking could bring in all sorts of things. Not just hungry animals, but thieves.
Maddie tossed a couple of handfuls of grain—also brought from town—on the ground for the hens to peck at, and then whistled for Homer to follow her. The bird had taken to flying upriver to visit—and eat a few raisins—on a daily basis. Considering their claims butted up to Jack’s, it wasn’t far for Homer to fly, and she truly didn’t mind his company. He was still talking to her.
“Leave those chickens alone,” she told him when he strutted along the edge of the fence.
“Leave chickens,” the bird repeated, along with a few loud squawks, but followed along behind her to the tent.
He waited on the step while Maddie replaced the cup in the bag of chicken feed and then retrieved a few raisins for him. Once outside again, she knelt down to feed him. The sound of a hammer pounding grated on her already frazzled nerves. Today Lucky was building an outhouse. An outhouse, of all things. They were surrounded by a million acres of woods. Claiming he was used to such things—outhouses, a roof over his head, cut firewood, eggs, a bed—Lucky seemed to find a million things to do besides look for gold.
“That’s fine,” Maddie said to Homer. “I don’t need him to find gold.”
“Don’t need him,” Homer repeated.
Pleased the bird agreed with her, Maddie picked up her shovel and gold pan and headed for the water. Unlike Lucky, she’d searched for gold every day. As of yet, she hadn’t found so much as a glitter, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t here. She just needed to look harder. A sluice box would help, too, but when she’d gathered the hammer and nails, along with some of the hewn lumber, Lucky had confiscated them, stating he’d build a sluice box when everything else was done.
“At the rate he’s going, we’ll be too old to pan gold then,” she told Homer. “Some partner he’s made. Seems to me finding gold is last on his list.”
The bird squawked and Maddie nodded, pretending Homer was agreeing with her. “You’re a better partner than him.” That of course wasn’t true, nor what was really bothering her. Lucky not talking to her meant other things weren’t happening, either. Things she wanted to happen. Him holding her at night. Kissing her.
Homer squawked again. Though she grinned, Maddie kept her eyes on the riverbank, looking for something, anything, to tell her where to dig, anything to keep her mind off Lucky.
The ground here was different than in Colorado, and she wished for the hundredth time that Smitty was with her. He’d know where to dig, always had. He said he couldn’t describe it, how he sensed the difference in the ground, knew where the gold was hiding.
Smitty had said she had it, too, that inner sense, but she’d panned dozens of scoops of riverbed and hadn’t seen a hint of gold. Not in the rocks, sand or dirt. “What am I missing, Smitty?” she asked softly. “I really thought this was the spot.”
A flash or flicker happened out of the corner of her eye and she glanced around. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and she deduced it must have been a bird flying overhead. But it happened again as she dropped her gaze to the water.
This time, she scanned things more intently, and when it happened again, she pinpointed where it came from. Seve
ral yards ahead of her and a couple feet out from the shoreline. The water was cold, and she didn’t relish standing in it, but that was what miners had to do—get wet—so she stepped into the river, keeping her eyes on the spot she’d seen glistening brighter than the rest of the water.
The current was strong, and the water up to her knees when she arrived. It was a rock, a boulder, really, the top of it just beneath the water. Sunlight caught on the wet stone as the waves washed over it. Disappointed, Maddie stuck the blade of her shovel into the riverbed to lean against the handle. The shovel went down farther than she anticipated and she almost lost her footing.
The water was clear, showing that the base of the boulder was surrounded by sand rather than rocks. She shifted, examining the rock and the sand more closely. There was a whirlpool, a miniature one, and the sand at the base was streaked with black.
Maddie’s heart started racing.
Chapter Seven
Cole thought about telling Maddie to get out of the water, but it would be a waste of breath. She was stubborn and set on finding gold. Which was the reason they were here, so he couldn’t fault her on that. Besides, he could see her. She was close enough that if she fell, he could make it to her side immediately.
He’d start mining as soon as their camp was set up. That had become his goal when she’d told him she’d never had a home with a floor. Such a little thing, one he’d never thought of before, yet to her, it had been significant. Tears had misted her eyes, and at that moment, he’d wanted to make her happy more than he wanted anything else.
Almost.
He wanted her. In a way a man wants a woman, and that want had grown so strong he no longer dared hold her at night. Working, physical labor that left him exhausted, was how he managed to still sleep in the same bed as her. He made sure when his head hit the pillow he was so exhausted nothing could keep him awake.
Try as he might, it wasn’t working all that well. He’d taken it a step further, too. Ignoring her again. Which was like ignoring the sun.
A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter Page 10
