Greg

by Kathleen Ball

  “They could just use the other flap.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’ve been thinking on it, and if we move the fire pit to the right just a bit, people will natural come in through the left side.”

  “You know, for a girl, you’re awfully smart.” He grinned as she frowned.

  “I’m sure you meant to say something else didn’t you?” She cocked her brow.

  “I certainly did,” he laughed. “I meant to say my beautiful wife is very intelligent.”

  “That’s better. Now we have to be real quiet hanging these cans then we can open the flap and hold hands or something.”

  The or something sounded good to him. They worked slowly together and finally got their alarm system in place. Then he opened the left flap. They sat together on his bunk but Mercy was as stiff as a pair of pants that hadn’t been washed in a month.

  “I know something is wrong but I don’t know what. Talk to me Mercy. Was it something I did?” He took her hand in his and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

  “It’s nothing really. I’ll just miss you when you go is all. But don’t you worry I’ll be just fine. I can take care of myself, you know. No one will get the jump on me.”

  Greg let go of her hand and leaped up. “You’re not coming with me? I thought maybe you were beginning to like me. I’m as stupid as a jack—” He walked out of their mine and went into his tent. Women were complicated. He’d heard his pa say so often, but Mercy was downright impossible to figure out.

  He paced back and forth. Didn’t she say her father was the one who wanted to mine, not her? He could have sworn that she wanted a house and family. How could he have gotten that wrong? Or maybe she had said it but changed her mind. He’d been a fool thinking they could have a good life together.

  His anger turned to hurt. He’d begun to fall in love with his wife. He shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. She fascinated him, and he’d begun to long for her. He was a sucker. Back home he almost married a pregnant girl to keep her from becoming an outcast. It wasn’t his child, and he’d hardly known the girl. He’d dodged that bullet.

  Here he was again but this time he was tied by marriage vows. He could stay with her and mine but wouldn’t that just make him a fool? He could leave her, but he’d worry about her every day. Maybe he could work extra slow so he’d have more time to convince her to come with him. But did he really want someone who didn’t want him?

  ***

  Mercy lay on her bunk thinking almost all night. Greg hadn’t come back, and her stomach was in knots and her heart ached. It was understandable why he’d want to leave her behind. She lacked social graces, she walked and talked like a man, and she was no great beauty. She wouldn’t know the first thing to say to his mother or sisters. They probably drank tea out of china cups and she was used to tin. Heck, she didn’t even drink tea.

  She didn’t own any of the undergarments other women did. All she had was a black faded dress that was too short for her and a bit tight across the chest. Her hair had mud caked in it more times than not. Sadness filled her. No, she wasn’t the wife for Greg. He was destined for better things. He could just leave and not tell anyone he had married. They’d never consummated the marriage, so he really was free to go.

  The cans made an awful racket, and she rolled onto the ground, gun in hand. She just missed being shot. Her heart was pumping as she took aim and shot. Hearing a yelp didn’t bring her any pleasure. The killer was still alive. She rolled to the other side of the living quarters and then slowly got up and ran into the mine, jumping over the cans strung just inside the entrance. She ran until she was behind some of the wood that shored up the mine. Her whole body shook as she waited. The killer would probably be on the lookout for more cans.

  Her back hurt as she pressed harder against the jagged rock. She took a deep breath and let it out again trying to calm herself. It didn’t work. How was she going to shoot with her hands shaking? There was so much riding on her killing the man. Finally she got herself together and aimed the gun at the entrance. She planned to take him down with one shot.

  She was so focused on killing she didn’t hear Greg calling her at first. Thank God, she finally heard him before she shot him. Slowly, she lowered her gun and slumped against the stone wall. Her body shook in earnest now, and she didn’t try to stop it. Tears pricked at her eyes. What was going to happen to her when Greg left in a few weeks?

  His stride was purposeful as he walked toward her and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “I thought I lost you.”

  She could feel him shaking too. “Where is he?”

  “Dead. Your aim was good. You hit his chest and it took a few minutes for him to die.” He pulled away and looked her over then pulled her into his arms again. “I should have been here. I’m so sorry.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on with everything she had. She wanted to stay in the safeness of his arms always. Maybe if she showed her usefulness, he’d take her with him when he left. But how?

  “Let’s get you out of here. I bet a cup of coffee sounds good about now.” He let go of her, took the gun from her and held her hand. “Did the cans alert you?”

  “Yes, I wasn’t asleep but they gave me time to roll off my bunk. I can’t believe I’m still alive.”

  He led her to his bunk and sat her down. The flap was still open and a crowd had gathered outside. Greg poured her a cup of the mud like coffee they usually had warming near the fire. He handed to her and sat next to her.

  “Why don’t you close the flap?” Mercy asked.

  “Maybe this guy didn’t know we’re married and thought we’d made a strike. I want everyone to see we’re together and happy.”

  “Are we?”

  He frowned. “Are we what?”

  He was so clueless she didn’t want to answer. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Are we happy, or should I pretend?”

  He took the cup from her and set it on the ground. He took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “I’m not pretending. I’m happy you’re my wife. Pretend if you have to.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need to pretend. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.” She hoped they’d be together much longer than she thought.

  “We’d best go outside and answer any questions,” he said.

  Pulling away she stated into his eyes. “What type of questions?”

  He touched her cheek. “Honey, you just shot someone. There are bound to be questions. Just be honest as much as you can.” He stood and took her hand, pulling her up beside her.

  Her body felt chilled without his against her. “I’m not sure. I killed a man, Greg. This is a bad idea.”

  “You have to show you did nothing wrong. Nothing that anyone of them wouldn’t have done to protect themselves.”

  Biting her lip she glanced down at the dirt. She could do this couldn’t she? She gave him a slight nod and followed his lead out the mine. Of course Carl was one of the men in the front. His mocking grin nearly had her running back to safety.

  Greg stood straight and tall, while he squared his shoulders. “We appreciate all of you coming to make sure we’re fine. Truth is, we’re shook up. There’s been too many shootings in the name of greed. Has any of you seen gold from this mine?”

  The miners looked from one to another and shook their heads.

  “Frankly, Mercy and I have been busy with other things than mining at the moment. I can only conclude it was your doing, Carl.” Greg cocked his brow as he stared at Carl.

  Carl spit on the ground and then he frowned. “Not this time.” He smiled mockingly.

  “Perhaps I’m being a bit hasty in my judgement,” Greg conceded. “Does anyone know who this dead man is?”

  Until that moment Mercy had avoided looking at the dead body. She glanced, and her stomach churned. His brown eyes were still open and his shirt was blood soaked. She’d always been so proud to be good with a gun, her aim was true, but killin
g was different. “It’s Wesley,” she muttered.

  Greg turned toward her. “Wesley who?”

  “He’s traveled from strike to strike, same as me and Pa. We were on friendly terms at one time, but he tried to, well he cornered me and tried. Anyway, Pa told him to never darken our door again. He was to pretend he didn’t know us because we would never claim him for a friend again. Wesley was livid but he was also lucky my pa didn’t take his head off. I was afraid to leave our tent for weeks after that.” Her throat tightened as she remembered that awful day.

  Greg put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “This is my fault. We had a small argument and I stormed into my tent leaving her alone. I should have been the one to protect my wife from evil.”

  A few of the miners looked surprised. Greg had been right, there were those who didn’t know they were married. Mercy laid her head on his shoulder. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at dead Wesley.

  “Who’s going to pay to have Wesley buried?” Carl asked, still smirking.

  Glad pushed his way to the front. “I’ll do it for free. Miss Mercy has been through enough. I’ll remove the body now.”

  Mercy nodded and tried to find a smile within her but there wasn’t one.

  “We appreciate that, Glad,” Greg said. “Any other questions before we go to bed?”

  There were a few whistles and cat calls, but it was brief. Mercy held her breath, waiting.

  Carl stepped even closer. “So let me get this straight. A man who tried to attack you before ends up dead by your own gun? I find that to be highly suspicious. You harbored a grudge against poor old…old…” He turned to one of his men who whispered Wesley. “Wesley. He was walking by and you shot him.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not how it happened. Not at all. I was in my bunk worrying about the fight I’d had with my husband. Someone pushed open the flap and rattled the cans I had strung. I rolled out of bed and there was a shot from outside. I shot back. I didn’t know the shot was deadly. He yelped, and I figured I got his shoulder or something.”

  “Enough questions,” Greg announced loudly. “There was no revenge. Wesley shot first. Mercy and I put up the cans so we’d know if anyone was walking in on us while we were…well before we had our fight…”

  Mac laughed. “No explanation needed. The events sound true enough to me. I didn’t like that weasel Wesley no how. Come on, fellas, let’s give the newlyweds some privacy.” He turned and most of the men followed all but Carl.

  Mercy needed to get away from Carl. She let go of Greg and went back inside their living quarters and sat on the bunk behind the closed flap. She’d had enough for one day, one week, one month. Carl had been angling to have her blamed for a wrongful death. Why wouldn’t that man leave her be? Maybe it was time to leave while both she and Greg were still alive.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle as fear filled her. If Carl kept pushing, she might be hanged. Many of the miners owed him money and they’d do as he asked. She rocked back and forth but she couldn’t comfort herself. She’d seen plenty of violence living among men but she had killed a man. Even though he was a piece of scum, he had been a person. She was going to hell, she just knew it.

  Greg finally came in, and he put more wood on the fire. Then he sat next to her and gathered her in his strong arms. Finally she felt safe enough to cry. Once she started she couldn’t seem to stop.

  She cried for her father, taken from her too soon. She cried for the young girl Wesley had tried to attack, she cried for the life she took, and she cried because she knew someone like Greg could never really truly love a person like her. He cared so much about his family, but he’d be too embarrassed to bring her home. Her torment lessened as Greg stroked her back. She stopped sobbing and was surprised how quiet it was. All she could hear was the pounding of Greg’s heart along with the hissing and spitting of the fire.

  “As soon as we get the g—it, I’d like you to drop me at a nice town. I can buy a dress along the way and find some way to get all this mud from my body. I bet there are all kinds of things a woman with money can do. I could open a business, or find a rich husband.”

  Greg stiffened. “No.”

  “I want to be someone else, and you’d be rid of me.”

  “No.”

  She pulled out of his embrace and studied his face. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone other than my pa. The only thing of worth I can give to you is your freedom. And your mind will be at ease. I’ll be somewhere safe and not your problem.” She tried to give him a tender smile but from his stormy expression she must have failed.

  “You are not a problem. You are my wife, and we will be together. If you want to leave we will leave together. I don’t want my freedom. I want us to have a happy life, together. A good life is freedom to me.”

  Mercy stood and poured water into the basin then washed the tears from her face. Next she let her hair down. “Sometimes this hair gives me a headache. I’m tempted to cut it.”

  “Don’t! I mean I rarely see it cascading down your back like that. It’s beautiful, Mercy. It’s not just blond, there are colors of a lighter brown and even a bit of red in it. It makes you look so—”

  “Womanly?” She tossed her head so her hair moved.

  “That word works, but I was going to say so very beautiful.”

  She pulled it all over one shoulder. “It’s full of mud,” she said smiling.

  He stood and walked over to her and touched her hair. “Silky with a hint of mud. Mud is a given in this place.” Gently putting he put his arms around her and pulled her close. He swooped down and placed his lips against hers.

  It always surprised her how his masculine lips were so soft when they kissed. She opened her mouth to him, and he deepened the kiss arousing longing inside her. It felt different somehow, as though they’re hearts were both involved. Greg kissed her jaw and then her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hard chest pressed against hers and instead of being shocked she found she liked being so close to him. Their hips pressed together for a moment and then he stepped back.

  He stared into her eyes. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t. If you’re not ready tell me now.”

  “I think I’m falling in love with you. But there is so much I haven’t figured out yet. You make me feel things I’ve never felt. When you touch me all thought goes out of my head. What if you decide you made a mistake come morning? My pa said that’s how it is with most men.” She bit her lip and glanced away.

  “I’m not most men. I’m your husband. But I understand.”

  “No, go ahead do what you wanted to do.”

  Greg grinned and then laughed. “I will when we both want to do it. Longing is a powerful thing.”

  “I think that’s what I felt.” She met his gaze, and he nodded.

  “That’s a start. Let’s get some sleep.”

  She nodded.

  Chapter Six

  Greg woke and then stretched, hoping to work out the kinks on his back. He’d insisted they sleep in her bunk. At first it was nice and comfortable to have her in his arms but she moved a lot in her sleep and she kept her gun loaded under her pillow. He’d spent quite a bit of time praying it wouldn’t go off.

  He gazed down at her, thinking she reminded him of a sweet angel. She didn’t have night clothes, so they slept in their regular clothes. He was just thankful she believed in cleanliness. Most of the miners stunk to high heaven.

  He grabbed the pail and went to the pump for some fresh water. Most of the men he passed greeted him by name, and he nodded back at them. Then he went into their living quarters and poured some water into the wash basin. Next, he took off his shirt and retrieved his soap out of his saddlebag. He washed and then used some tooth powder. It was well past time to take a bath and wash his clothes.

  He put the coffee on and opened the flap, keeping an eye on the camp activity. It was early for most miners. Especially the ones who spent what little the
y made down at Carl’s place. He trotted out Shelly as the lure since she was clean and pretty. The rest of his ladies were filthy, and he was sure they probably had diseases they passed along to the miners.

  His pa had warned him about women like that. His heart squeezed. He missed his family. As soon as they were finished mining, he was taking Mercy home to meet his ma and pa. They’d like her.

  A groan came from beneath Mercy’s blanket, and he knew she was up. Mornings were not her best time of day. It took her a while to fully wake. Coffee was a must for her. He poured it and handed it to her as soon as she swung her legs over the side of the bunk.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “I think I was up all night. I’m not used to someone in my bunk.” Her brows came together as she shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, you slept.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She stared at him.

  “I know because I was up most of the night. You move constantly in your sleep. And I have to say your loaded gun under your pillow made me nervous. I was half afraid it’d go off.”

  “Ah, I was restless. That doesn’t make for good sleep.” She sipped her coffee. “I need to wash up.”

  Greg picked up the basin and threw the dirty water out of the tent. He then poured fresh water for her, grabbed her flowery soap, and placed it next to the basin. “I’ll just step outside. I was thinking later we could wash clothes.”

  “We can do that.”

  He stood outside for what seemed like an awfully long time, but when he saw her it was worth the wait. Her hair was wet but she had braided it so it hung over her right shoulder.

  “You look as pretty as a sunset in June.”

  She smiled as she turned a delightful shade of pink.

  “Here comes Mac. We can go eat breakfast together.” The surprise on her face put a grin on his. “I figured if people didn’t see us together, then how’d they know we’re married?”

  “Good morning, Mac,” she greeted.