Heart of Gold (A Gold Rush Romance)

by Ali Olson

  “You should control your temper when speaking to my father. He can use it against you in ways you can hardly imagine,” the girl piped up, startling him from his reverie.

  He looked over to see that she had put down the knitting and was watching him, a knowing smile on her lips. He wondered if she disliked Wilson as much as he did. “He needs to be held responsible for his actions,” he managed through gritted teeth.

  Clara nodded. “I hope he will be, someday, but he has been especially smug lately, so unless you have some special information that will be his undoing, I doubt today will be that day.”

  He blew out his breath, frustrated. Would Alice’s story of his behavior toward her be enough?

  “What did he do to you?” she asked, leaning forward in what he could only consider to be commiserating curiosity.

  Thomas shook his head. “I’ve never met him. But he hurt someone I—I care about.”

  She tilted her head to the side as she studied him. “Love?”

  When he made no reply, she nodded in sympathy. “My father has never been one to stand aside for love.”

  He wondered what he had done with her love that made her eyes look so sad, but before he could begin to ask, she stood and gathered her things. “I will go find him and tell him to meet with you as soon as possible. I hope you get the response you desire.”

  With that, she was gone and he was left to stew about the pain Wilson had inflicted on at least two women. He wondered how long the man’s path of destruction actually was.

  After what seemed an interminable time, a portly man he could only assume was Mr. Wilson strode in, greeting his strange guest with all the false cordiality of a mayor running for office. Thomas shook his hand reluctantly, letting go as soon as he could and resuming his seat.

  Wilson took a seat across from him. “What can I do for you this fine day, Mr. Lancaster?”

  Thomas wasted no time mincing words. “You can give Alice Crenshaw her job back.”

  Mr. Wilson’s face turned down in a regretful frown, but Thomas could see the delight in his eyes. The man loved this, enjoying the power he held over her and getting his revenge against the woman who had bruised his ego. “Unfortunately, sir, there is nothing I can do. She was a fine teacher, but we must have moral women teaching our children.”

  Thomas snorted derisively. Moral, indeed. He wanted a woman he could control. The thought sent Thomas to seething once more. “Look, Wilson, I know all about what happened between you and Alice. Let her teach again, or I will tell everyone what you did.”

  Wilson’s expression became cold, cunning, and a little frightening even to Thomas. His voice came out as a hiss, all cordiality and affectation gone. “The little bitch told you, huh? Are you two sleeping together? You need not answer, because it matters very little, after all. It’s true if I say it is. So you just try to hurt my reputation in this town and I will destroy you both, you understand? The marriage in her past will be nothing compared to the uproar if I tell people you two were caught performing unspeakable acts, right on the schoolroom floor. You hear me?”

  Thomas was dumbfounded. He had expected a louse, a blight on society, but not this ruthless, dangerous being. How had the man hidden his true self in this tiny town for so long? Why had no angry mob run him out of Shasta years before?

  Wilson continued, his voice returning to normal, but his words still cold as ice. “I waited long enough for that girl. She should be grateful I wasn’t on her within the first month she was here, but she was so distant and proper I wasn’t even sure I wanted her. Then this sparkle came into her eyes, and she became more than just the teacher. She became a woman, and it sent my blood boiling. Strangely enough, that seems to have coincided with your appearance in town, so I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

  Thomas could not hear anymore; he stood up and walked out, hands shaking from an intense urge to throttle the man. He had lost, and they both knew it.

  The evening was beautiful and golden when he stepped out of the grand house, but he took no notice. His eyes were focused on the ground as his emotions fought for control. He knew he needed to remain calm and figure a way out of this mess for Alice, but he saw none, and the blind rage that was still threatening to take over was no help. He had never wanted to hurt a person so badly. His heart went out to the poor girl who had to live in his house and call that serpent her relation. Perhaps when he had found a solution for Alice, he could attempt to help her, as well.

  He swung himself onto Hamlet and charged home. If Alice refused to see him, and he had no idea how to fix the problem immediately, he could at least sit down and begin working on some plans that might be a help. He was sure that if he put his mind to it, he would discover a way to disentangle this mess. There were so many things to do.

  First, he had to sell his farm in Missouri. Even if she was run out of town, Alice had made it clear she refused to live back east, so it looked like he would be staying in California. To tell the truth, he had come to like it more than he would have expected, and now that he had made the decision to sell, it pained him much less than he thought it would.

  Next, he needed to find a way to stop that horrible man from ruining Alice’s life. That would certainly take quite a bit of time and thought, but he was sure there was a way, if only he could find it.

  Once those two tasks were complete, he could work on the final and most important part of his plan, and that was to marry Alice. He loved her, and he was going to win her or die trying.

  The fact that she was still married to her first husband complicated matters, but that was a problem he would not allow to stop him. There was always a way around any obstacle, if only he was willing to look for it, and he was willing when it came to Alice.

  He kept Hamlet going at a fast trot through town so as to avoid conversation. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to get home without a bother. Luckily, everyone was so interested in gossiping that they spared little thought for him as he rode past. Unfortunately, he could guess what their topic of conversation was, and that did not help matters.

  Once he was finally home, he walked Hamlet into the quiet, cool barn and made him comfortable, then trudged to the house and dropped himself into a chair, weary from the events of the day. He needed to figure out what he could do to stop that bastard Wilson from ruining Alice’s reputation and employment prospects, and he needed to work fast. But thinking of it just made him yearn to be with Alice, to hold and comfort her.

  “Uncle Thomas?” a voice piped up from the door, cutting into his thoughts.

  Thomas turned his head to see Joe standing there, his eyes unhappy and earnest. The boy stepped a little closer and asked, “Is it true that Miss Crenshaw isn’t going to be our teacher anymore?”

  Thomas knew he couldn’t lie to the boy, but he was unsure exactly what to say. He gathered his thoughts, trying to decide what would be best. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know, Joe. I’m trying to stop it from happening, but she might need to move towns. If she does, I want to go with her. I want to marry her.”

  Joe nodded without a hint of surprise, though he appeared forlorn at the prospect. “I don’t want to leave Shasta.”

  “I don’t either, Joe.”

  “What if all of the students decided we didn’t want another teacher, only Miss Crenshaw; would that do any good?”

  Thomas almost dismissed the idea, but then he thought about it for a moment. Students fighting to keep a teacher they loved could go a long way to warm the townspeople’s hearts toward Alice. Hell, it couldn’t hurt.

  He looked at Joe waiting for a response. He was a smart boy, Thomas knew. He was sure he could trust the child to orchestrate a mini-rebellion among five- to ten-year-olds.

  He shrugged again and smiled at the boy. “I don’t know if it would convince them to let her teach again, but it might help somehow. Do you think you are up to the challenge?”

  Joe’s face broke into a grin as he nodded his assent. Thomas ha
d one other worry, though. “Are you sure you don’t feel warm or have any itchy spots on you, though? If you’ve got the chicken pox, you should stay home and rest. If you caught it, you should feel ill in the next day or two.”

  Joe looked down at the ground. “Uncle Thomas, I know why I didn’t get chicken pox.”

  Thomas waited, curious what the boy would say. Joe continued, tears in his eyes. “I had them two years ago. When you brought me to see the sick boy, I thought I would have to get them again, but his brother explained how you only get them once when I saw him the next day at school. I felt stupid about it, so I never told you.”

  Thomas was relieved to have a simple problem he could actually solve put before him. “Joe, that’s nothing to feel bad about. I never explained it, and I should have. I’m just glad you get to avoid being sick. I’m not mad at all, I promise. In fact, it gave me another chance to see Miss Crenshaw, which was very nice. So thank you.”

  Joe perked up at his guardian’s words. “So I’m not in trouble?”

  Thomas shook his head and Joe beamed. Then he got back to the task at hand. “When can I start helping Miss Crenshaw?” the boy asked.

  Thomas looked out at the dark sky. “You can’t do anything tonight, that is quite certain. Tomorrow is Sunday, so that might make things difficult. I trust you to decide what you want to do and I am going to work on other plans, too. Only act on what you feel is right, will you? If you cannot or do not want to actually do this, there are other things we can see to that will help her.”

  Joe nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll make good choices Uncle Thomas, I promise. I’m going to come up with a plan.” And with that, he was racing up the stairs to his room.

  Thomas chuckled. The child was more like him than he had ever expected.

  Now it was time to work on his own preparations. He would meet with the Western Union proprietor the next day after church and see about writing a few wires to be sent first thing Monday. He wanted to get started on selling the farm as soon as possible, now that he had officially decided to do so. He would then spend the afternoon working to clear Alice’s name or finding a loophole, or both, though he had no idea how he would actually do those things.

  He spent the evening racking his brain, trying to find some way to accomplish such tasks, but it seemed like he would need a miracle. When he finally went to sleep, he was almost despondent. He would stay with Alice, follow her if he had to, that was certain. But how could he marry her and how would she ever be able to teach again? He simply didn’t know.

  Alice trudged down the stairs of the Leach home. She wanted to stay in her room permanently, but hunger had finally driven her out. She wanted to hide from everyone—avoid seeing faces filled with anger or concern or pity—but she was starving and decided it was best to meet the whole family at once, during the big Sunday meal they always had after church.

  She had spent the past day trying to find a way to solve her problem, but had come up with nothing. She was tired and defeated. Packing and getting out of town were the only options left to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. For over two years, Shasta had been her home, and she wanted to stay—it was that simple. There didn’t seem to be any other option but leave, though.

  As she walked into the dining room to eat with the family, she prepared herself for the questions and looks from them. When she stepped into the room, however, all she got was a stern admonition from Mrs. Leach. “Alice, dear,” she scolded, “What have you been doing, wasting away in your room? Sit down and eat, for land’s sake!”

  Alice was unsure how to react, so she said nothing, but sat down in her empty chair and began to eat. She ate in silence as the family continued their conversations, grateful that they took so little interest in her.

  Once her hunger was satiated, Mrs. Leach clapped her hands—a habit Alice had come to expect from the woman, and which she found so endearing tears welled in her eyes at the thought of leaving and never hearing it again—and said, “Everyone, it is time to go about your business. Shoo!”

  The table cleared as if the departures had been orchestrated. Even Mr. Leach departed, after a single lingering kiss on Mrs. Leach’s cheek in a gesture that made Alice ache for a life she knew was impossible. And then Alice was alone with Mrs. Leach, who wasted no time getting down to business matters. “Let’s just make sure I understand everything. You are in love with Mr. Thomas Lancaster, you love your job from which you have been dismissed, and your current steps of action for both these problems is to hide in your room? My goodness, dear, I thought you were intelligent.”

  Alice was so startled she had no response. Mrs. Leach continued, her tone softened somewhat. “Alice, you must fight for your position, and you need to go to your Thomas and tell him you love him. That should be obvious to you.”

  Alice crossed her arms on the table and dropped her head onto them. Her voice sounded odd even to herself, either because her mouth was so close to the wooden tabletop or because she was close to crying, she was not sure which. “It’s more complicated than that,” she explained. “I cannot be with Thomas because I’m married, and I am losing my job for the same reason.”

  “Then divorce the man. I have heard tell it’s a fairly simple process for a young lady out here in the West. At least then you get half of what you want, and you are no worse off when it comes to the rest.”

  Alice lifted her head and sighed. “It’s not only that. I think Thomas might have been the one to tell Mr. Wilson about the marriage. He was the only person who knew.”

  Mrs. Leach’s laugh rolled through the room. Once she had quieted down some, she asked, “You don’t really believe he would do that, do you?”

  “No. Maybe? I don’t know. How else did Wilson find out?”

  “Well I am sure I don’t know, but if you think Mr. Lancaster did that, you have spent far too little time watching that man when he talks about you. It only took a few words out of his mouth for me to see how smitten he was, so I cannot comprehend how you missed it. He would never hurt you like this.”

  Alice nodded. She knew the older woman was right. She had known it all along, even. It just seemed easier, somehow, if she had somebody to blame. “I’ll need to speak with him.”

  “Well of course you do! But not today.”

  Alice looked at the woman, curious what she was thinking. Mrs. Leach leaned in like a fellow conspirator. Over what, Alice had no idea. “There’s something going on with the students. They have organized some type of a rebellion and have put out the message that they will terrorize the school unless you are reinstated as the teacher. There has already been a very adorable anonymous message posted to the schoolhouse door. Everyone was talking about it at church today, and the school board is calling an emergency meeting tomorrow, after the three members teach classes for the day. Mrs. Swenson was asked to teach while they looked for a replacement—apparently being unwed is only necessary if you are young, those fools—but she refused. She said she was too infirm to take the position, which is certainly not true. I’m sure she disagrees with the school board as much as I do. You need to get your rest tonight and prepare an appeal for tomorrow. With some luck, the children will have been so awful the board will throw out the rules and beg for you to come back.”

  Alice’s heart lifted slightly. Mrs. Swenson, the town tutor and piano teacher, was the most educated woman in town and had been the one to teach when the last teacher left so suddenly. If she disagreed with the board and refused to cooperate, and the students fought the change, others in the town might listen. It was unlikely, but a possibility nonetheless. She had a deep, desperate urge to see Thomas, and staying away seemed burdensome, but she was aware that if she entered his house there was little likelihood she would leave voluntarily or get any sleep at all. That thought made her stomach twist with desire, but her brain knew that what Mrs. Leach said was for the best.

  Alice walked back up the stairs to her room, her steps lighter than when she had descended suc
h a short time before. She had to believe it would all work out. She still did not know how, precisely, but there was no reason not to try.

  She would simply need to wait until tomorrow.

  Chapter Eight

  Thomas entered the Western Union office, the dim interior so different from the sunshine of the day that it took several moments for his eyes to adjust. His companion seemed to have no difficulty, though, and began bustling around, gathering the items Thomas needed.

  Thomas had come to the office with the establishment’s only employee, a grizzled elderly man named Cliff. The man was sprightly enough, although he walked with a hunch that bespoke long hours sitting at a desk. Thomas had spoken to Cliff in the office a few times to check for messages from Mr. Bridger, the man who was living on his farm while he was gone. Cliff was a cordial fellow, and was willing enough to take Thomas to the office to write out his message this Sunday afternoon, though he made it clear that it would be sent the next morning at the earliest.

  Now that they were away from the crowded streets and Thomas was seated and writing the message to be sent, Cliff became talkative. His chatter settled on the main topic discussed throughout the town, the one that tightened the band around Thomas’s chest: Miss Crenshaw’s dismissal. “Seems like all the young’uns liked her, that Miss Crenshaw. Don’t know how it matters if she was married or not, but I don’t have any chil’ren, so’s I guess it’s somethin’ I don’t ‘xactly unnerstand.”

  Thomas had stayed out of the conversations he overheard at the church, but he could not stay quiet here, and the fellow seemed kindly enough, almost inviting confidence. “It was a marriage from a long time ago,” he responded, “and she is one of the nicest, smartest people I have ever met. That Mr. Wilson is stirring up trouble with all this.”

  Cliff’s mustache wiggled as he grimaced. “Don’t know what ever’body sees in Wilson. He’s trouble, he is. If they knew—“