He was a handsome man, several years younger than Pa. Pa must’ve been thirty-nine or forty. Ma said he was twenty-two when they were married, and Ma a year younger. So I’d guess Uncle Nick to be thirty-three or thirty-four.
His hair was kind of a curly golden-brown, falling down into bushy sideburns around his ears. I saw Ma’s family right off in the eyes, and in the prominent nose, too—a straight nose, not too big, but what they call the Roman look, I think. He had a strong resemblance to Zack. Even though he was kind of gazing off into the distance, his face had a lively appearance. Just from looking, I figured him to be more talkative than Pa. He may have been in trouble, but he didn’t look anxious or upset about it. In fact, in spite of whatever his difficulties were, he looked like the kind of fellow who enjoyed life and didn’t let too many things get him down.
All of a sudden I realized I was staring. I looked away hastily, then went over to the stove. The least I could do was be hospitable, I thought. After all we were in his home.
“Would you like some stew and bread, Uncle Nick?” I said, getting a plate.
He jolted himself out of his reverie. “Why, that sounds mighty nice,” he said. “What’s your name, girl?”
“Cornelia,” I answered.
“Yeah, o’ course! How could I forget little Cornelia! You musta been two or three when I left New York.”
“I last saw her when she was seven,” put in Pa, “and you only left a year ahead of me.”
“I guess you’re right,” laughed Uncle Nick. “You lose track o’ time out here, you know.”
“Speaking of names, Nick,” said Pa, “the young’uns here know all about the Matthews dodge.”
Uncle Nick nodded thoughtfully.
I set the plate down on the table. He sat down at the bench and tore into it like he hadn’t eaten in a week.
“Corrie,” Pa said, “why don’t you get the young’uns bedded down? Me and your uncle’s got some things to talk about.”
I motioned to Becky and Emily to come with me. Zack just kept sitting, and Pa didn’t say nothing more. I took the girls into the bedroom and got Tad back into his bunk. When I came back out about ten minutes later, Zack was still sitting there listening, and no one paid much attention to me. Pa’s voice sounded serious.
“ . . . but don’t you know what a blame fool thing it was to do?”
“I didn’t think,” Uncle Nick replied lamely. “Anyway, that fella recognized me first.”
“You should’ve ignored him, denied who you was—anything.”
“I didn’t think there’d be no harm. It was Pete Wilkins. I grew up with him. It was awful good seein’ someone from home, from the old days.”
“You’re telling me about home, about the old days!” Pa burst out. “At least you didn’t have to leave a wife and kids!”
“Maybe you’re right. But I’ll never get to see Aggie again, either.”
“I guess we made a mess of our lives,” said Pa more sympathetically.
“You mean I made a mess, Drum.”
Pa didn’t answer, and I couldn’t tell if he was agreeing or just didn’t have anything to say.
Finally Uncle Nick went on, “What’s done’s done, anyway. What’s the use of gettin’ all riled at me now?”
“’Cause maybe it ain’t done with yet,” answered Pa. “Didn’t you hear what I just told you about them men the kids seen? Then that Parrish woman’s Negro, he scared someone off the other night prowlin’ around here. I tell you, Nick, Aggie ain’t the only one who found out from that fella where we was.”
“Pete wouldn’t of said nothin’.”
“They could’ve been watchin’ the house, and Aggie.”
“But everyone thought we was dead.”
“Maybe the law did, though I’m not even sure about that, anymore. But the Catskill bunch . . . they wouldn’t give up so easily. More’n likely they got wind of Aggie’s leaving and tailed her.”
“Followed her all the way out here? Come on, Drum. You don’t really believe they coulda done that without someone seein’ ’em?”
“Aggie didn’t know them. They coulda been part of the wagon train and no one would have been the wiser. All they had to do was see where she lit, and they’d have us.”
“Na, I can’t buy it! You said yourself you didn’t see ’em in town.”
“Well, somehow they got to us after all this time. You heard what I told you the kids saw. With a scar like that, who could it be but Krebbs?”
“Plenty of fellas has scars.”
“Prowling around here at night . . . askin’ questions about us. We never had no trouble all this time, till the kids showed up.”
Uncle Nick said nothing in reply. He just sat thinking over Pa’s words. “I jest can’t believe they coulda trailed the kids so far.”
“Men’ll do anything for that kind of loot, and as long as they still think we got it, they’ll never give up.”
He stopped for a minute, then shook his head and muttered in exasperation, “Blast it! I thought we’d finally shaken that bunch of scum! Now the kids’re gonna be in just as much danger as ever.”
He thought a minute more, then something new seemed to occur to him. He looked up at Uncle Nick with renewed anger. “Which reminds me,” he said, “it sure don’t help none for you to keep gettin’ yourself into fresh trouble. What were you thinking pulling your gun on Judd like that? Sometimes, Nick, I think you’re still that fool trigger-happy teenaged kid I pulled outta that free-for-all back in Schenectady.”
“Just ’cause you saved my hide once doesn’t mean you gotta treat me like a kid the rest of my days. I can take care of myself.”
“You can take care of yourself like the hothead you are! I’ll treat you like a man, Nick, when you stop needing me to nursemaid you! Now on top of the kids, and being found out by the Catskill Gulch Gang, I suppose I’m gonna have to get you outta this latest scrap and somehow make things right with the sheriff.”
“Judd was itching for it. I told you that—it was his doing!”
“Just ’cause a man wants to start something, doesn’t mean you gotta pull your gun and oblige him, right in front of the whole blamed town!”
“He called me a cheat.”
“Judd’s a bigger fool than you are and everyone knows it. So what if he called you a cheat. Besides, he was more than half drunk. Nobody was payin’ heed to a word he said.”
“I don’t like a man spreadin’ lies about me.”
“So you pulled your gun on him, and then an hour later Judd is found dead in the alley next to the saloon, and everybody’s wonderin’ where you are! What good did it do you to protect your honor? If you’d a just kept your mouth shut and your gun in your holster, you wouldn’t be in this fix.”
Uncle Nick just sat where he was, sulking. Finally he burst out again, getting in one last argument in his defense. Funny, it almost reminded me of Zack whining back at Ma when he didn’t want to do something.
“I didn’t do it, I tell you!”
“I believe you,” said Pa, with a sigh of frustration.
“It was that half-brother of his, Kile.”
“Proving that and clearing you’s not gonna be easy.”
“There’s bad blood in that family,” said Uncle Nick. “Everybody knows it, including the sheriff. And he knows Kile’s been layin’ for him, too.”
“I know it, and you know it. But until the sheriff gets proof, you better just lay low here, and me and the kids’ll not let on we seen hide nor hair of you. It’ll do you good to keep out of the saloon and your hands off a deck of cards!”
Chapter 20
The Sheriff Pays a Visit
When we woke up the following morning Pa was gone. I didn’t find out until later that he’d ridden off before daybreak north across the middle fork of the Yuba to some place called French Corral. Uncle Nick told us later that he’d gone looking for some old mountain man called Brennan, who was supposed to be distant kin to the fellow they’d be
en talking about named Kile.
At the time, however, all we saw was that Pa was gone, “on business,” as Uncle Nick put it.
As a result we kids got to see more of Uncle Nick than we might have otherwise.
As I guessed, he was more talkative. Pa was still a little threatening to us all, but Uncle Nick was so friendly and good-natured he almost seemed like one of us. Before the day was out, he had Becky and Emily laughing and chasing him around the cabin with Tad up on his shoulders hanging on for dear life. Zack still hung back, but Nick even managed to coax a smile or two out of him, wrestling around with him on the floor of the cabin before dinner. He was just so lively we couldn’t help having a good time around him.
After dinner, Pa’d always just sit down and everything’d get real quiet for a spell. But Uncle Nick didn’t seem the sitting-around type. He always had to be doing something.
“‘You ever shot a Colt, boy?” he said as he got up from the table.
“Who, me?” said Zack.
“Who you think I’m talking to, your kid brother? What about it, have you ever?”
“Uh, no sir,” Zack answered.
“How about we give it a try?”
Still bewildered, Zack wasn’t sure what to think. Uncle Nick pulled his pistol out of its holster on the wall and, with an inquiring look on his face, waved it butt first toward Zack. Gradually it began to dawn on Zack what he meant.
“Yes, sir!” he said, jumping up and following Uncle Nick outside.
They walked up toward the mine together. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could tell by the excitement in Zack’s voice that he was feeling good about the interest Uncle Nick was showing in him.
For the next half hour or so we could hear shots firing from up the creek, followed every so often by an excited yell from Zack.
Later that night, before bed, Uncle Nick sat with all of us and told us stories about himself and things he’d done. He never mentioned the trouble we knew he was in, but we still enjoyed it. We went to bed that night happier than any night since we’d got there, and all of us were really glad Uncle Nick had come back.
Pa got back about ten the following morning. He didn’t say much, just got Uncle Nick aside and the two of them talked seriously for a while. Uncle Nick seemed to protest what Pa was telling him, but in the end they seemed to reach some agreement. Then Pa got back on his bay and galloped off again.
This time he was gone about two hours. Uncle Nick was quiet the whole time, fidgeting around nervously. After a while, he went out and saddled up his horse, then came back into the cabin and packed up some things in his saddlebags, as if he was planning to go someplace. Finally, he got his gun belt down from the peg by the door and strapped it around his waist. He had a determined look on his face, completely different than the carefree expression of the day before, when he’d been playing and laughing with us and showing us things all around the claim. He looked like I imagined a gunfighter would look, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was an outlaw after all.
When Pa’s horse came into view down the road, he had another rider with him. Uncle Nick told us to get inside the cabin. We obeyed, but as we were going I saw him loosen his horse’s rein where it was tied on the hitching rail, as if in readiness for flight. But still he just stood there in front of the cabin as the two riders approached.
We went inside and closed the door. Zack and I were too curious not to know what was going on. So we went into the bedroom and watched from the window.
Pa rode up and got off his horse. He was the first of the three men to speak.
“Nick, I told the sheriff here that you’d give yourself up, long as he talked to old man Brennan first.”
“That right, Matthews?” the other man said, still sitting in his saddle and looking down at Uncle Nick.
Uncle Nick nodded without much enthusiasm.
“You’re in a barrel of trouble, Matthews,” said the sheriff. “I’ve a good mind to run you in and slap you in jail right now. But this partner of yours seems to think he can clear you.”
“I didn’t shoot Judd,” said Uncle Nick.
“Well, we’ll see. That’s not what the folks that heard you and him arguing in the saloon think.”
“We may have argued. That don’t mean I killed him. I never killed a man, and that’s God’s truth.”
“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t. But I got to go on evidence, and the evidence all points toward you. In the meantime, is what Drum tells me true? Are you willing to place yourself in his custody and promise to stay put ’til I talk to Brennan, and give yourself up and face trial if it comes to that?”
“I ain’t about to go to jail,” said Uncle Nick pointedly.
“Be reasonable, Nick,” put in Pa. “If you run again, they’ll have to put a price on your head. Then you’ll take a slug in the back.”
“Listen to the man, Matthews,” said the sheriff. “Running away just says to everyone that you’re guilty. If you give yourself up willingly, I can try to make things easier for you, and it’ll say to a jury that you know you’re innocent. I’m inclined to believe your story, but you got to do your part.”
“It’s the only way, Nick. I talked to Brennan yesterday, and he’ll tell the sheriff that Kile slept out at his shack for two nights after the incident. He’ll tell what Kile told him, too.”
“Okay, I’ll stay put,” replied Uncle Nick at length. “But old Brennan better not double-cross us.”
“Good,” said the sheriff, looking relieved. “Now you two stay where you are. I’ll ride up to French Corral tomorrow and see if I can’t get Brennan to corroborate your story.”
He spun around on his sorrel, then galloped back the way he had come.
Pa and Uncle Nick tied up their horses and walked slowly inside, hanging up their guns by the door.
“It’s the only way you’re gonna get out from under this,” Pa was saying.
“I still don’t like it,” said Uncle Nick. “Though it’s not that I don’t appreciate what you done for me.”
“Yeah. Maybe next time I’ll just let you dangle from your own rope.”
Uncle Nick didn’t answer, just plopped down in a chair like he’d had a tongue-lashing from his own pa, and stared straight ahead. Nothing more was said about the incident the rest of the day.
Chapter 21
Miracle Springs’ Big Day
Three days later the sheriff returned. Zack heard the conversation that Pa and Uncle Nick had with him outside.
“That man Brennan told the sheriff that Kile had been around and confessed to killing Judd!” Zack said. “As soon as the sheriff said that, Uncle Nick let out a big sigh of relief. The sheriff was upset though,” Zack went on. “Because when he asked Brennan where Kile was, the old man just replied, ‘I ain’t about t’ turn one o’ my own kin int’ the law. I telled ya what he said, but I ain’t gonna tell ya where the varmint is!’”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“The sheriff just told Uncle Nick to watch out and not to get himself involved in any more trouble. He said he wouldn’t go so easy on him next time.”
“And what’d Uncle Nick say?”
“Oh, he sorta thanked the sheriff for being so understanding,” said Zack. “But he didn’t like saying the words. I think Pa made him do it,” he added.
The next few days passed peacefully enough. Now that the cloud over Uncle Nick was gone, at least for a while, he seemed even more fun-loving than before.
In those days of quiet, I did a lot of thinking. We had been in Miracle Springs for a month. The reflection of the setting sun each day on the gold, red and yellow leaves said that fall was truly in the air. Already many of those colorful leaves had fallen to the ground and were decaying underfoot.
So much had happened since the previous spring, when those same leaves were growing from tiny buds. Then, I was three thousand miles away from this place. Now, here I was in California, with my brothers and sisters, our ma gone,
and a whole new life before us.
On the outside I was still the same fifteen-year-old girl who left New York. But inside I felt like I’d aged twenty years. I could hardly imagine more adventures—good and bad—happening to one person in a single lifetime, although books I’ve read about people like Robinson Crusoe and Leather-Stocking in The Last of the Mohicans make what’s happened to me seem a bit tame.
But, I suppose that especially here in the West, lots of things are bound to happen to everyone—some happy and exciting things, and some tragic things, like losing our ma. I guess she would say that’s what life’s all about.
One of these fall mornings began with a surprise when Pa woke us all bright and early. That in itself was unusual, for he’d never gotten us up a single day since we’d been there. Usually I’d rise at first light to find him out of the cabin and already at work somewhere about the place. But on this morning he called us out of bed while it was still dim and gray outside. Bacon was frying in the skillet on the stove and coffee was already brewing when I came out.
“Thought you young’uns might like to go into Miracle today,” he said in a voice more chipper than usual. Uncle Nick’s return and the temporary clearing of the trouble with the sheriff seemed to have raised his spirits.
“Oh, we’d love it!” I replied as I began to stir up some buckwheat batter.
“Big doin’s in town today,” he went on. “Why, history’s likely gonna be made. You kids won’t want to miss that.”
Just then Uncle Nick walked in from outside. “You going to town today, Nick?” asked Pa.
“You think it’s safe?”
“Judd’s kin ain’t gonna bother you none. They know you didn’t do it as well as I do. And if you keep yourself outta trouble, the sheriff ain’t gonna do nothin’.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” said Uncle Nick. “I was thinking of the other trouble that you think mighta followed us here.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Pa. He lowered his voice as he continued. “But if it is Krebbs that’s nosing around, our staying out of town’s not gonna stop him. If that was him the kids seen, he already knows our place. And if we can spot him in the crowd in town, then it might even be to our advantage. At least we’d know for sure he was here.”
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