0764214101

by Tracie Peterson

  He held her hand as they made the long walk back to the house. She often hummed or sang to him as they walked, but today her thoughts kept returning to a letter from Indiana. Stanton told her that her grandfather still refused to hear about her notes home. And to make matters worse, he was sick. Stanton promised to be honest with her, but she felt that maybe he was holding back a little. If her grandfather hadn’t left his bed in a couple weeks, that meant he was very sick.

  Lillian pondered the silence around her. Sweet little Jimmy still refused to speak. And he might not ever. Grandfather refused to acknowledge her or respond. Would they ever get beyond the silence?

  The next morning, armed with cookies for the pastor and his family and a picnic lunch, the entire Colton family headed into town for church. Woody, Jimmy, Mrs. Goodman, and Lillian. She’d insisted that Mrs. Goodman sit up on the seat with Woody while she and Jimmy made themselves a comfortable couch out of blankets and cushions in the bed of the wagon.

  The thought of all of them attending church together had kept her up most of the night. And now her stomach was all aflutter. Please, Lord. She didn’t know what else to pray. But God knew.

  A poke to her shoulder brought her awake, and she realized they had reached the church. Jimmy stared at her. Apparently she’d fallen asleep in the wagon. Fiddlesticks. She reached up to adjust her straw bonnet. Hopefully her hair wasn’t a mess. But at least it was better falling asleep here rather than during the sermon. That would be embarrassing. She’d have to make sure to get enough sleep before church from now on.

  Woody helped her down from the wagon and she saw the hesitation in his eyes. This couldn’t be easy for him. Especially after the other day. But at least they were here.

  The church was pretty quiet as they entered and took seats in the back. Pastor Seymour got up and led them in a song, but Lillian couldn’t focus on the hymn. She felt the stares of people and hated how it made her feel. How she longed to keep Woody and Jimmy from feeling any more hurt and pain.

  The minister launched into his sermon on James, chapter four, and Lillian tried so hard to stay attentive. But the lack of sleep the night before kept haunting her. And then she’d get distracted by every little movement and hope it wasn’t someone coming to say something ugly to her family. Yes, she had to admit it. They were just as much her family as those back in Indiana. And she would protect them just like she would family.

  Toward the end of the service, the reverend asked them all to look again at verse seventeen of chapter four. She looked down at her Bible and read the words along with him, “Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.”

  Pastor Seymour closed his Bible and looked down at the congregation. “If you know to do good and not harm and you don’t do it, you are in sin. You are just as guilty as . . .” He paused and looked around the room before adding, “. . . a murderer.”

  He waited another few moments before continuing in a gentle, fatherly manner. “Sin is sin. There aren’t little sins and big sins. There are sins that are more acceptable than others and still other sins that bear greater consequences in the world. But God can’t abide it in any form.” Despite the gentleness of his tone, he fixed them with the stern expression of a father reprimanding his children.

  Lillian noted a great many people bowed their heads as if the intensity of the pastor’s gaze was too much to bear. Good. Let them feel guilty for how they’d acted. Let them be the ones to be uncomfortable instead of Woody. She didn’t suppose those were the thoughts of a good Christian woman, but she was angry. Angry that people could be so cruel. Angry that it had gone so long unchecked. Perhaps with Woody absent from their lives, people figured they could just hide their ugliness and pretend they were in the right. Well, there was no pretending that now.

  Pastor Seymour finally smiled. “We’re blessed, though, because Jesus said He’d pay the price for our sins. Isn’t that a wonder? He didn’t do anything wrong, but people condemned Him. He didn’t do anything wrong, but He willingly took on our sins and died. Better still, He rose again and lives.

  “Folks, I know it’s easy to be caught up in sin. Especially lies. Satan works it in such a way that it seems logical to accept lies as truth. But you need to remember something as you point your finger to accuse one another. Satan . . . is the accuser of the brethren. I think you need to ask yourself exactly who you’re siding with. Who stands to benefit? Let’s pray.”

  Outside the church, several men approached the Colton wagon, and Lillian braced herself for the worst. Jimmy tightened his hold on her hand and leaned closer to hide his face against her sleeve.

  A man Lillian heard the pastor call Stan Van Dyke spoke first. “Colton, we need to apologize to you. We believed the worst, when we all knew what kind of man you were. We’d witnessed it firsthand, and yet we took hearsay and rumors above it.” The man who led the group held out his hand. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Me too.” Another held out his hand.

  Lillian walked Jimmy a few paces away to allow the men some time. Woody needed this. God alone knew how much pain these men had heaped upon Woody in the past, but now it was time for them to apply a soothing salve and let the healing begin.

  Mrs. Goodman walked toward her. “Two ladies just apologized to me, Lillian. Two! Can you believe it? Apparently the good minister’s sermons have been convicting the people.”

  Lillian let go of Jimmy to hug her friend. “That’s wonderful news. Truly.”

  “I hear that you made quite an impression on the town, as well. Standin’ up as you did for your boss.” The older woman nudged her.

  Lillian looked back to where Woody conversed with the men. “He’s a good man. People just needed to be reminded of that. Why is it that we allow fear to overrule everything else?”

  “I don’t know, dearie, but it sure is sad.” Mrs. Goodman shook her head. “I can’t say that I ever thought I’d see the day when people would be apologizing for their words and for listening to the gossip. You’ve been a healing balm to this town. All we needed was for a stranger to come in and clean up the mess everyone else felt was perfectly acceptable.”

  Lillian shook her head. “All they needed was to take their eyes off Woody and his situation and put them back on Jesus.”

  Woody walked over to them then. Lillian thought she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. His gaze held hers for just a moment, but in that moment they seemed to share so much. He was precious to her—so much a part of her heart. How it all happened, she hadn’t a clue. But she thanked the Lord for making her path straight to Angels Camp.

  “You all ready to head out for our picnic?” He glanced toward Mrs. Goodman and smiled.

  “Sounds lovely, young man. I haven’t been on a picnic in years.” Mrs. Goodman winked at them both.

  “Where’s Jimmy?” He looked around.

  Lillian’s heart plummeted. “He was just here.” She glanced around, as well.

  “Let’s split up. We’ll find him faster that way.” Woody took off toward the west side of the churchyard, and Lillian went the other way. Mrs. Goodman headed toward the street and town.

  Lillian called out for the little boy but couldn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’d followed a rabbit somewhere? Or needed to use the outhouse? She checked back inside the church, but everyone was gone. Then she went back around the church again. The cemetery stood off in the distance, and she noticed two figures.

  Father and son.

  She took her time walking over there, trying to slow the rapid pace of her heart. Jimmy must be visiting his mother’s grave. Why hadn’t she thought to bring him here before now? The poor child. He’d endured so much and still grieved the loss of his mother. Feeling guilty for neglecting such an important thing for Jimmy, she slowly walked up.

  Woody’s back was to her as he crouched by his son. He wrapped the boy in his strong arms.

  As Lillian neared she heard Jimmy’s soft sobs and Woody’s words of comfort. She
turned to go, to give them privacy, but stopped when she heard Woody’s pleas.

  “Son, please, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t share with me what’s going on in that head of yours. I know you miss your mother. I do too. More than you know. But I want to help you.”

  Lillian couldn’t help it. She turned back around to watch and listen.

  Jimmy shook his head over and over again. Tears streamed down his little cheeks.

  “Did you see what happened to your mother, son? Did you?”

  Jimmy’s sobs turned into wails, and he just kept shaking his head.

  Woody picked him up and wrapped him in a tight hug again. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

  Darwin awakened early that Sunday morning. He’d waited an entire week for all of the people on the farm to leave at the same time. He had been nearly ready to march in there and hold them all at gunpoint in order to get his gold. Desperation and hunger made a man do crazy things. But then on Saturday when he’d been watching them from the coverage of the trees, Darwin overheard them mention attending church the next day. They were all going to go—even the workmen. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

  He crept around, being as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to wake Harry. Harry was such a big guy that he ate his weight in food almost daily. However, they’d run out of food, and Harry had begun acting like a five-year-old, demanding something to eat. Darwin tried to explain it to Harry, even encourage him, that the sooner he was able to remember where he’d hid all of the gold, the sooner they’d be able to buy food. But it did little good, and Harry just continued to complain. It was one more justification for ending Harry’s life. Darwin’s gold wouldn’t last long if he had to keep up with his brother’s voracious appetite, and no one was going to take in a big oaf who’d eat them out of house and home.

  Darwin all but tiptoed to the narrow shaft where he’d hobbled his horse. The shaft looked to have been one that someone started and then abandoned. It was perfect for keeping his horse hidden out of sight. He saddled the gelding, then led him out of the mine. His plan was to approach the farm from the north and leave the horse grazing there out of sight. Then he’d sneak down past the outbuildings, avoiding the one that housed the crew. Hopefully they’d all gone to church, as well, but Darwin wasn’t going to take any chances.

  He’d just mounted his horse and started down the trail when he heard the unmistakable sound of Harry lumbering after him. Great. That was just what he needed. Now he had to deal with the constant babbling of his simpleminded brother.

  “Are we going to get the gold, Brother?” Harry asked as he caught up to the horse.

  “Yes, but we have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake up anyone if they’re sleeping.”

  Harry put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh.”

  Darwin nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I’ll be very quiet,” Harry promised.

  Darwin doubted it was even possible but had no choice but to let Harry follow. After all, he might very well remember where he’d hidden some of the other bags.

  As they got closer to the farm, Harry poked him. “Brother, Brother. I remember more.”

  Just what Darwin hoped. “Tell me, Harry. What do you remember?”

  “I took some of the bags to my special place, so that no one would ever find it. I ran out of places to hide it at the house.”

  “Where’s your special place?”

  “Oh, it’s a long, long, long, long, long, long ways from here. It took me two days to walk there.”

  “Two days? What were you thinking?”

  Harry frowned. “I was thinking that I had to keep your stuff safe, Brother. I was thinking hard.”

  “Well, we can take horses to get there. That is, if you remember how to get there.”

  “I remember. It has all sorts of caves to hide in, and there’s water, and it falls down from the mountain. It’s beautiful. Miss Lillian called it a new park.”

  Darwin looked at him for a moment. “Are you talkin’ about that new national park? Yosemite?”

  Harry nodded and clapped his hands. “Yes. Yes. Yes. That’s it. Miss Lillian called it that.”

  Great. That was a long ways. He and some friends had hidden out there years ago when the law was bearing down on them for a little bank robbery they’d pulled. There were enough canyons and gullies and caves in there to keep them looking for the next hundred years. Darwin shook his head. He’d have to worry about that later. After he got the gold off the Colton property. Property that should’ve been his.

  First things first. He’d have to look in the first place he’d buried the gold and make sure that Harry hadn’t left any. Then he’d have to look by the well. That would be a challenge.

  As they neared his original hiding place, Darwin glanced around. “Harry, you keep an eye out. If you see anyone, and I mean anyone or anything comin’ this way, you let me know.”

  “Okay, Brother. You can count on me. I’ll be the lookout.”

  Darwin dug by their ma’s favorite tree. It took him a long time just to get a foot down.

  “Want me to dig for a while?”

  “Sure.” Might as well let that big oaf do some of the hard work. Darwin watched the surroundings.

  A loud clink reached his ears. Harry jumped up and down. “I hit something!”

  Sure enough. When Darwin jumped in the hole with his brother, he pulled up a leather sack. They dug some more with their hands, and he pulled up one more bag. Convinced there weren’t any more, Darwin looked at Harry. “Fill the hole back in. Nice and packed.” He looked at the sky. The sun was well into the west, past high noon. That meant they were running out of time. “We gotta be quick, Harry.”

  “I can be fast.”

  “You better be.”

  Darwin raced to the top of the hill. In the distance, he spotted the wagon. That meant they only had about ten minutes to get out of sight. He ran back down the hill and grabbed the sacks. But carrying more than one would be too much for him for long. Gold was heavy.

  He heaved one over his shoulder and headed back toward the mine. “I’m gonna get this one over that hill and then come back for the other.”

  “Uh-huh,” Harry grunted. He was almost done filling in the hole.

  “Hurry up. They’re coming.”

  By the time Darwin made it back, his brother was done and had grabbed the other leather sack. They made it to the bluff just in time. Harry kept on running, but Darwin turned and wanted to watch. He’d heard about the well-to-do new nanny that Colton had hired. Had the boy opened his trap yet?

  He heard laughter drift toward him from the house, and Darwin looked on. It was the boy. And he was laughing. The ladies went inside the house, and Colton rode the wagon to the barn while the boy chased a rabbit in the yard. “Come this way.” Darwin willed the child to come closer. He hadn’t come this far to see the sniveling little brat ruin it all.

  The kid caught the rabbit and tucked him into something wrapped around his shoulder but kept coming toward the tree that Darwin hid behind. When he could hear the boy’s footsteps, Darwin checked to make sure no one else was around and ventured out into plain sight. He wasn’t sure the child would recognize him, since he was clean-shaven.

  The boy stopped in his tracks and stared. His face went white.

  Darwin couldn’t help but give him a smug smile. Now was his chance to get rid of the one and only witness to the Colton murder. But if he took the boy now, more people would come out to investigate. And he couldn’t deal with that. Not until he’d gotten all his gold back. Darwin wanted the kid dead. But he wanted his gold more.

  The kid stood there shaking.

  “Not one word, kid. You hear me? Not a word. Or you’re all dead, including that pretty little lady that’s come to live with you.” The boy’s eyes widened even more.

  Movement at the house caught his eye, and Darwin slunk behind the tree again.

  “J
immy . . . come on in and wash up.” The new nanny’s voice floated from the porch where she stood with her hand at her brow line to shade her eyes. She was a pretty thing. Hopefully she hadn’t spotted him.

  Darwin stayed behind the tree until he heard the boy’s footsteps running the other way. He could only hope that the kid would be scared enough to keep his mouth shut.

  Until Darwin could shut it permanently.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  By Wednesday at lunch, Lillian was worried. They’d had so much fun at their picnic on Sunday—it had been a joy to hear Jimmy’s laughter. But that evening he wouldn’t eat his dinner, and he went to bed early. Monday morning he wouldn’t cooperate with anything. Just sat in a chair by the window in his room petting Mr. Whiskers. He refused to come downstairs. Refused to eat. And wouldn’t even look at her.

  Thinking that he was just getting back at her for scolding him to clean up his room Sunday afternoon, she didn’t pay too much mind. But when dinner came and went and the child still hadn’t moved, she began to get concerned. She’d hoped his mood might be different on Monday. Mrs. Goodman even tried to cajole him out of his stupor with some of her famous cookies with chunks of chocolate. Still Jimmy sat in complete silence, not looking at either of them. Lillian tucked him into bed Monday night because Woody had been out late digging the irrigation ditch. She knelt by his bed and prayed aloud.

  “Lord, please help Jimmy with whatever it is that is bothering him. Help him to know how much he is loved by his father and Mrs. Goodman . . . and me. He’s so special to me, Lord, and I want him to know that no matter what, he can always talk to me.”

  Later she discussed it with Mrs. Goodman. The woman had shrugged her shoulders and said that sometimes little ones pitched a fit. It could even be that the heat was getting to him. Lillian thought to ask Woody about them taking a dip in the pond, but she didn’t know if that would cause problems for the irrigation ditch, so she said nothing.