Mabel’s eyes widened, and she ducked her head. Hiram cleared his throat and ate as if someone were going to steal his supper.
“Nonsense!” Gabriel shoved to his feet.
Charity did the same. “Yes. If I had listened to you yesterday, you would be dead right now.” She spoke each word distinctly, with special emphasis on dead. “There is nothing wrong with a woman knowing how to shoot or any other supposed ‘manly’ type pursuits.” She lifted her chin. “I intend to teach Meg to be self-sufficient, also.”
“My wife will be submissive.”
“My husband will be objective.”
Charity took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Clearly something happened in town that set Gabriel over the edge of reason. She needed to defuse the situation before something was said that couldn’t be taken back. “If it’s any consolation, I am not a good shot.”
Gabriel growled and marched to his bed, drawing the curtain.
###
Gabe scrubbed both hands down his face and sat on the edge of his bed. Yes, he was in pain, but that did not excuse his actions. His pride had been wounded, and he had acted like a young boy. He owed everyone an apology. Especially his wife.
There was no reason to get angry over her learning to shoot, except maybe the loss of ammo, but he had plenty stashed in the trunk at the foot of his bed. One of the things he purchased plenty of when times were good. With two rifles, and two people capable of using them, they would never go hungry or left helpless when he was away.
He was the king of fools. Many more evenings like this one and he wouldn’t have to worry whether Charity would want to stay. She’d run back to town like a cat with its tail on fire.
Tomorrow, when he returned from hunting, they would start their Bible readings, and he would find something about repentance and being sorry for wronging others. Then, he’d explain to his family about punching Amos and let the children know that what he had done was very wrong. Jesus did not punch the ones who crucified him, and Gabe should not retaliate against his enemies that way either. Right attitude or not, the notion left a bad taste in his mouth.
Standing and pulling aside the curtain, Gabe squared his shoulders and walked back to the table. “I apologize for my behavior. Charity, you may learn to shoot if you so please. Sam, I need your help with chores. Hiram and Mabel, I’m sorry for being an ungracious host.” With as much pride as he could muster, Gabe spun on his heel and moved outside.
He didn’t stop until he got to the corral where he penned his cattle. The poor beasts were crowded and looked miserable. But, they were home, and not scattered across the territory. He checked the hay he had left the day before, satisfied there was plenty for a few more days.
Lady leaned against his leg and he reached down to scratch behind her ear. When Sam joined them, Gabe sent him into the barn to fork hay to the horses. He needed to be alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.
Maybe he should walk away. Leave the house, leave the land. Take his family and head to California. Adopt Charity’s attitude of mining for gold. If there was gold there years ago, there was bound to be more. They just needed to look in the right place. They could strike it rich and start over.
He laughed. Might as well mine right here. But the last time he heard of a big strike was over by Grasshopper Creek near Bannock. He shook his head, not believing he would even entertain the notion of mining for gold that probably panned out four years ago.
He crossed his arms on the top rail of the corral and let the cattle’s lowing soothe him. He glanced at the darkening sky, and shivered. The temperature was dropping fast, and the cloud cover had thickened. Within minutes, he’d be thrust into total darkness. Early in the morning, he would most likely be heading out to hunt with the season’s first snowfall. With Thanksgiving only two weeks away, he prayed he could bag a turkey for Charity. He knew the Irish favored goose on Christmas, so he would also try to take a trip to the mountain lake.
With his mood lightened, Gabe went to the barn to help his son prepare the animals for night. Yep, it was going to be a wonderful winter. One where he would win Charity’s heart and show her that nights where he lost his temper and acted like a child were few and far between.
26
Gabe and Sam left to go hunting before Charity and Meg crawled out of bed the next morning. Charity stared at the ceiling, thankful it was finally cold enough that bugs no longer dropped on them during the night. With a low fire burning in the fireplace, the room was comfortable. The dogs and cat lay curled around each other on the small rag rug in front of the hearth. Charity smiled at the cozy picture, glad to be a part of it.
Tossing back her blankets, she tugged on long socks then reached for her dress. A peek outside showed still no snow. Maybe her and Meg could head into the woods and harvest the last of the crab apples. The apples would make a pleasant jam for their holiday dinner.
She patted Meg awake. “Come on. Let’s go pick apples while we still can.”
“It’s cold.”
“Bundle up. We’ll be snowbound soon enough, and the berries will be gone.” Charity slipped her dress over her nightgown, taking her own advice. “We’ll pack a lunch and make a day of it. Your Pa and Sam will be gone until supper, unless they stay out all night.”
“Can we take the dogs?” Meg crawled out of bed.
“Sure. I doubt they would stay behind anyway.” Not to mention the safety they would provide. Two dogs would give ample warning if a wild animal ventured too close.
Charity rushed through her morning chores, scrambled some eggs for breakfast, wrapped Meg warmly in a scarf and coat, then headed out the door with the dogs gamboling around them.
She remembered seeing some crab apple trees when she and Gabriel had ventured out to take the Indian girl to her people and set off in that direction. Her skin prickled at the thought the Indians might be close by. Surely not. They must have headed on their way shortly after she escaped. Nevertheless, she’d keep her eyes peeled and pay attention to the dogs’ behavior.
About a fifteen minute march up the mountain led them to trees still containing a few berries. Wrinkled, but edible. Charity set her pail at her feet and started picking the few left on the lower branches. “Do you think you can safely climb these branches, Meg? There are more apples farther up.”
“Yes, Ma.” Meg tucked the hem of her dress into the waistband of her bloomers.
With her heart in her throat, Charity watched Meg scrambled up the tree like a little squirrel. Soon, apples rained down on her head and shoulders. She laughed and started plucking them into the buckets. They weren’t in as good of a condition as she would have preferred, but she was bound to get enough good ones for a jar or two or jam. Not to mention how pleased the children would be.
Over the summer months and into fall, she’d witnessed Meg and Sam growing more lighthearted. The kitten had been only the beginning. The dogs helped the children learn to play, too, and Charity couldn’t wait until Christmas when they opened the few toys she had splurged on.
“Meg, I’m stepping behind that clump of bushes for the necessary. You stay right where you are.”
Meg nodded and plopped in a pile of dried leaves.
While Charity did her business, her gaze fell on a dark spot farther in the bushes. She stood and pushed through. A cave! Her heart stuttered. Could there be gold inside? A bear? She glanced around for something to throw. She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t think the cave deep enough to house a wild animal. She found a good-sized rock and tossed it inside.
It clattered against stone. The cave wasn’t deep at all. Nothing growled, and nothing charged at her.
“Meg! Come here.”
“Why are you in the dark, Ma?” Meg took one step inside the cave and stopped. “I don’t like it in here. It scares me.”
“Your eyes will adjust. It really isn’t that dark. I just want to look around for a minute. That’s all. Stay right by the entrance.” Charity hadn’t seen the dogs in a whil
e, but knew the loyal animals wouldn’t have gone far from her and Meg. Oh, she wished she had a lantern.
She ran her hands over the rough walls of the cave until the pads of her fingers were sore. She didn’t feel anything that felt like veins of gold. Who was she kidding? She didn’t know what veins of gold felt like. Without the proper tools, she would never know what lay under the soil.
Tears stung her eyes, and she plopped to the cave floor in a puddle of dejection and dirty calico. That was it. No more silly dreams of striking it rich. She would be content with the life God gave her, whether it was with Gabe and the children or not. She scoffed. Most likely, considering how God didn’t seem to care much about bestowing blessings on Charity, He would choose to send her away in a few months to struggle through life alone.
Having spent more than enough time and energy on foolish pursuits, she got to her feet and joined Meg. There would be no more time for chilly wading in the creeks or scouring caves for veins of gold. Winter was upon them. Even someone as stubborn as Charity knew when something was not meant to be.
“What’s wrong?” Meg slipped her hand into Charity’s. “You look sad.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just got my eyes opened today.”
The sound of a bullet shattered the day’s stillness.
###
Gabe lined up his sight and pulled the trigger. “Look at that, Sam. Bulls eye!” He had just bagged the biggest turkey he had ever shot. Charity would be thrilled. And, praise the Lord, he had shot not one, but two, geese that morning. Since the odds seemed to be in his favor, he prayed for a deer. He strolled forward to claim his prize. Almost certainly Charity could make a hat for Sam adorned with one of the turkey’s tail feathers, and they’d have quills for pens.
His joy over the success of the hunt was diminished by his lack of progress in building the house. He glanced at the sky. If the snows held, or weren’t as severe as he feared, he could possibly get the walls up this winter. All Amos’s and Maggie’s agreement said was a finished house. It didn’t say anyone had to be living in it by the set time limit. Well, the floors and roof were on. It just lacked walls and a door. He could still win the wager.
“Let’s go find that deer, son.” Gabe grabbed the turkey by the spindly legs and stuffed it in a burlap sack.
“Hello, friend.” Red Feather materialized from the brush like a vapor.
“Red Feather.” Gabe smiled and nodded. “What brings you out this way?”
“I am searching for my brother’s daughter.”
Gabe’s heart fell. It was worse than he imagined. The girl was most likely from Red Feather’s tribe, and a family member at that. “I believe I have seen her. Come. Share our lunch, and I will tell you what I know.”
Gabe clutched his bag and led the way to a clearing. He doubted he would kill a deer that day, but he could relieve a friend’s worries. If only he didn’t have to do so while breaking the man’s heart. He sat on a stump and motioned for Red Feather to do the same.
“You do not have good news for me.” Red Feather could have been chiseled from stone, so hard was his features. He sat across from Gabe and stared with dark eyes.
“Someone stampeded my cattle two days ago.” Gabe folded his hands, hanging them between his knees. “They fired off a few shots and sent the cattle toward my place. When I went looking for the culprit, I found a young girl. She had hit her head on a rock and died. I’m so sorry.”
“Where is the girl?”
“My wife and I were headed to your camp with her body when we were accosted by five braves. I did not recognize them. I think they were hired by an enemy of mine who wanted me disposed of. We escaped, and they kept the girl.”
Red Feather took a deep breath. “They will sell her body back to us. Who is this enemy of yours?”
Telling Red Feather about Amos would solve a lot of Gabe’s problems. But he did not want the other man’s death on his conscience. “I am not at liberty to tell you. Forgive me, my friend.”
“This wounds me deeply.” Red Feather’s face darkened. “We are friends. Like brothers.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t have the man’s death on my conscience. What can I do to lessen the pain of your niece’s death?” Gabe met his stare.
Red Feather glanced at Sam. “The man who was to wed her believes in a life for a life.”
Please, don’t let him ask for my son.
“But, I cannot let you do that. You have a family that needs you.” He waved a hand at Gabe’s face. “It looks like you already paid a price with a beating.” He stood. “I will discover the truth and make amends myself.”
Gabe held out his hand. “You understand?”
Red Feather nodded and accepted the shake. “The Mighty God would not want you to tell me. But I do not plan to kill the man. Just to receive payment in the form of another sister, or a slave.”
“What was she doing to so close to my home?” Gabe asked. “Surely she wasn’t alone.”
Red Feather shook his head. “She went with a small hunting party. They parted ways after she argued with her soon to be husband. They expected her to go home. When they went back for her, they could not find her. So, I am here.” He turned and melted back into the tree line.
Gabe breathed deeply to steady his nerves. He had been friends with Red Feather for many years, but never knew exactly how the Indian would react when wronged. The death of a family member was a serious thing. Gabe said a prayer for the dead girl’s relatives, and wondered, exactly, what form of payment was suitable for a woman’s life. His friend’s words about a new sister gave him pause, and he hoped Red Feather wouldn’t set his sights on Charity.
###
Charity fought tears all the way home and felt like an idiot for doing so. Why should it feel like the end of the world because she wouldn’t be spending time chipping away at cave walls or wading in icy creeks? Gold wouldn’t buy Gabriel’s love anyway. It might get him to keep her around, but after a while he would be frustrated and feel as if she had trapped him.
Even the cat’s antics failed to cheer her when she opened the door to the soddy. Thanksgiving loomed, and a cloud of despair hung over her. Her life’s aspirations amounted to nothing.
She halted mid-step. Her life aspirations or her father’s? Charity collapsed into the nearest chair. Being rich was her father’s dream. What was hers? To be loved. She was. If not by Gabriel, then by his children. Sam and Meg adored her as much as she did them. The thought of leaving ripped her heart out. She could refuse, she supposed, but who wanted a husband who didn’t want her?
She supposed she could choose one of the other miners. Most of them had proposed to her at one time or another, and with women being as scarce as they were, she doubted many had gotten hitched in the last few months. Ugh. She was putting the cart before the horse. God might finally have mercy on her and convince Gabriel to ask her to stay. To ask her to be his wife in all ways. Could she even ask that he profess love for her?
Lady set up a fierce barking from the yard. Charity rushed to the door, blocking Meg inside. “Stay here, Meg.” Charity glanced at the empty mantel. Of course Sam would have taken the second rifle. She bolted the door and parted the curtains at the window.
Amos Jenkins sat on his horse and stared at the house. He wore two pistols low on his hips.
Charity opened the window. “What do you want? You are not welcome here.” She waved at Meg. “Get out of sight.”
“Where is your husband?”
“In the barn. You should leave before he comes out.” She put a hand to her chest to still her pounding heart, certain it could be heard from the yard.
“You lie.” Amos glanced that way then back toward the house. “I’m tired of playing games, Mrs. Williams. When your husband returns, tell him it is time to settle this.”
“Settle what? It isn’t springtime yet. There are months left for him to win that silly bet.”
“So, he has told you about our wager.”
“Of course he has. I’m his wife.” No need to tell the scoundrel she only knew the bare bones about their bet. Or that the subject touched a raw spot deep inside her. “Go away and come back in the spring.”
Amos laughed. “Why don’t we make a wager of our own, Mrs. Williams? If your husband fails to meet the terms, then you marry me.”
27
Charity parted the curtains and looked into the yard as the first snowflakes fell. Hiram and Mabel climbed from their wagon, arms loaded with their contributions to the Thanksgiving meal. The aroma of baking turkey, basted with butter, filled the soddy. Life couldn’t be better, or Charity any happier.
She and Gabriel still hadn’t had any deep conversations, but they were coming. Both were subdued since his day of hunting, and her realization that finding gold wasn’t in her future. Although the discovery had set her back mentally and emotionally, she felt a surprising freedom from a drive that was her father’s, not her’s.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” She threw open the door and ushered in her friends. “Your pies smell wonderful.”
Gabe shook Hiram’s hand. “Getting nasty outside. You going to be able to make it home all right?”
“Sure. Got the sled runners in the back of the wagon, but I doubt it’ll snow enough today for those. Maybe in a few more weeks.” Hiram freed Mabel of her coat and hung both of theirs on hooks by the door. He eyed the animals. “Going to be a bit snug in here, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” Gabe sighed. “Can’t get Charity or the young’uns to banish the dogs to the barn.”
“It’s too cold. They would freeze.” Charity opened the oven to baste the turkey, and smiled at the golden brown skin. Her first turkey dinner and it promised to be wonderful.
While the men sat in front of the fireplace and discussed winter coping skills, Mabel joined Charity in the kitchen corner. Sam and Meg tussled on the beds with the dogs, while Patches watched from under the table.
Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series Page 64
