From their rear came Norton’s cry, “Wait up. I’m hurting here!”
They skirted the ranch and were soon back on the wagon tracks, riding northwest towards the fort at the meeting of the American and Sacramento Rivers. The rolling hills gave way to an endless plain. They would have made good time but for Norton.
Back and forth they strode, pushing the long poles against the riverbed, driving the flat barge across the river. They were brown-skinned men with dark, long hair, without shirt or shoes, pants lopped off below the knee. With seashells hanging around their necks and wooden figures dangling from their ears, they sang a haunting, rhythmic melody as they worked.
Close to the edge of the barge, Tom hung on to Sadie’s neck and watched in fascination, spellbound by the exotic tune and the strange men. He supposed they must be Injuns. Jess was always talking wild stories about the Comanche, Creeks, and Apache. But it was kind of strange. They didn’t seem to look like the Injuns Jess described.
“Hold your poles,” the helmsman yelled. The boat scraped onto the far shore. Two of the pole-men leaped over the bow to tie her off while the others attached the ramp. Sadie pawed at the deck, anxious to get her feet on the ground again. He stroked her nose. “Yeah, Sadie, I want to get off this crowded boat too. You ain’t a good sailor are you, girl? It won’t be long.”
The man ahead of him moved, and he led Sadie off the ramp. Pa was still on the boat behind Jess and Hank. The waterfront of Sacramento City buzzed with activity even this late in the day. Several boats like Shamus Flanagan’s unloaded barrels along the bank. Wagons hustled down the dirt road along the river. A tree-lined street with wooden buildings ran to the east. Pa had said it was a new town, and it looked it.
Jess bounced up, bubbling all over. Gold fever glowed in his eyes. “Here it is. Sacramento City, the gateway to the goldfields. That was the American River that run into the Sacramento just above where we crossed. We’ll be mining in two days.”
Tom’s mind was still on the strange men on the barge. “Yeah, it’s pretty interesting. Say, what kind of Injuns were those guys pushing the boat?”
“Those weren’t Injuns. No, sir, they was the fierce Kanakas, headhunters from the Sandwich Islands.” Jess leaned in and whispered, “If you ain’t careful, they’ll slip up behind you, cut your head off and shrink it down to the size of a squirrel’s.”
Tom’s eyes popped. “Jess, you’re lying to me again?”
“Oh, no.” Jess put his hand on his heart. “I swear! But they don’t pick on us grown folks so much. Seems that the heads of young ’uns like you are a lot easier to shrink, so I’d keep a keen eye out, little brother.”
“That ain’t right, Jess! Your head ought to be just as easy to shrink as mine!” he yelled. He couldn’t tell if Jess was pulling his leg or not.
Jess winked at him. “Maybe so, but them headhunters on the boat was watching you real close. I’d sleep with one eye open if I was you.”
“Ha, ha. That’s enough Jess.”
Tom spun. “Hank, Jess’s lying to me, ain’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s pulling your leg again.” Grinning broadly, Hank yanked on the mule’s pack to make sure it was still tight. “Them Kanakas work for Sutter. They’re real friendly guys, folks say, real loyal to the captain. They’re about the only workers he’s got that ain’t run off to the goldfields.”
Tom turned back to Jess. “Why you got to be so mean all the time?”
Pa walked up, the gelding in tow. “All right, boys, let’s go. We need to find a spot to camp tonight. In the morning we’ll pick up supplies and head out to Coloma.”
They rode up the street to the east. Shops, saloons, and even a hotel bustled with business. The wooden buildings here looked a lot different from the Spanish style in San Francisco.
Pa looked over to a store as they passed. “Hank, Jess, in the morning you get to that store and buy us enough food for two, three months. Tom and me will go over there to Sam Brannon’s and pick up the gear we need for mining.”
Hank shook his head. “Why don’t we stop now, Pa? We’re here.”
“It’s late. We’ll get an early start tomorrow. They tell me we can camp up the American River from the fort. Let’s get on up there and settle in before sundown.”
Jess edged the pinto around a parked wagon. “Sam Brannon. I heard that name in San Francisco, Pa.”
“He’s the one that started this gold fever back while I was in San Francisco. Ran down that street we were on with a glass full of gold, yelling about it, showing it off. Folks are saying he bought up all the mining gear in California and now he’s getting rich selling it to people.”
Hank stood up in his stirrups, staring to the east. “That big building down the road, is that Sutter’s Fort, Pa?”
“That’s the fort, boys. We can camp somewhere off to the north of it.”
Jess gave Tom a playful poke on the shoulder. “A man on that barge said your General Vallejo was a prisoner in that fort.”
“Stop pulling my leg, Jess. Mr. Vallejo wasn’t in no jail. He’s too nice a guy.”
Pa shook his head. “Jess’s right. They put the general there after the Bear Flag Revolt in forty-six. Guess they thought that was the best thing to do. He was a Mexican general, and we were at war with Mexico. He got real sick while he was there. Still suffering some.”
“Shucks, Pa, that ain’t right.”
As they neared the fort, the eighteen-foot-high adobe walls rose from the grass of the valley floor. Guard towers stood above the walls on the northwest and southeast corners. The main gate, on the south, was wide open. Just inside, in the middle of the courtyard, stood a wooden building.
Pa looked inside the gate. “That’s Sutter’s offices. There’s a kitchen, sleeping quarters, stables, and storage rooms all along the inside of the walls.”
Tom was in awe of the fort. It was the biggest building he had ever seen. But no one was visible anywhere in the courtyard. “Pa, it don’t look like many people are around.”
“Yeah, it feels real lonesome, don’t it?”
Three riders approached from the east. The two in the lead nodded and touched their hats in greeting, but the other one, the small one, ducked behind the tall one in the army hat as they passed by. Tom stopped Sadie and turned back in the saddle. Wisps of long, red hair hung down below the wide brimmed hat. She had a narrow waist. She! The small one was a woman dressed like a man. Tom’s eyes got so wide they almost burst. Why would a woman want to dress like a man?
Then she turned in her saddle and looked back at him. She was pretty. He touched his hat like he had with the señoritas at Sausalito and grinned. She smiled back at him.
“Come on, Tom. Keep up, Son.”
He halfheartedly nudged Sadie and rode off.
She turned suddenly to look back at the riders they had just passed. Although she wore the pants, hat, and boots Sarah had given her, he had easily recognized her as a woman and smiled broadly at her.
Joshua’s head had turned with hers. “What is it, Maggie?”
“It’s that boy. He’s a little older, but he reminds me of my son. I’m sorry, Joshua, but I miss my family.”
“I know you do. Someday, soon I hope, you’ll tell me what happened to you.”
“I will. It’s too hard right now, too fresh.” She wanted to forget, wipe it from her mind and pretend it never happened. She knew she would never be able to.
Eban stared through the open pine gate into the fort’s empty courtyard. “Sutter must really hurt. I never seen this place so deserted. It’s worse than when we come by on the way to Sutter’s Creek.”
She gaped at the massive adobe walls, the tall guard towers. Like a lord in his castle, Sutter had power here. Everybody talked about him, even Jack, yet she felt sorry for him. “It’s strange he suffers because the gold brings more people.”
Eban frowned. “Yeah, but Sutter wanted an empire here. Now most of his workers have gone, his flourmill has shut down, miners tramp
le his wheat and corn, steal his animals and he can’t do a thing about it. It must be rough.”
Joshua waved his hand toward the west. “There it is, Sacramento City. We made it, without any sign of Jack.”
She followed his hand to the cluster of buildings. To the south, several sails moved slowly along the Sacramento River. She felt a flutter of excitement, of hope, at the first hint of civilization she had seen since leaving Missouri.
Eban heaved a tired sigh. “We’ll put up our horses then get some rooms in Mrs. Moran’s hotel. At supper we can figure out what we’ll do next.”
In town they rode through the wide-open stable doors and dismounted. A gaunt man, his black face framed by gray hair and beard, sauntered up, a currycomb in hand. “What can I do for you fellers, yes sir?” He spoke slowly, drawing each word out as if he had all day to say it.
Eban loosened the cinch on the dun. “Afternoon, Obadiah. It’s been a while.”
“Mr. Snyder, as I live and breathe. I ain’t seen you in a couple of years. No, I ain’t. How are you, sir?”
“Been fine, Obadiah. Can you take care of our horses for the night?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Snyder. I’ll take real good care of them too. Yes I will.”
Eban tossed the saddle onto the stall fence. “Obadiah, this is my friend, Joshua, and the pretty lady is Maggie.”
“Lady! Well, I’ll be. You sure is a lady and about the prettiest one I seen in a long time, yes, you are. But shouldn’t you be wearing a dress, ma’am?”
“How do you do, Obadiah?” She slid quickly behind the chestnut to unbuckle the saddle. She didn’t want people to notice her. They could tell Jack where she is.
Joshua tossed his saddle by Eban’s, then he pitched Maggie’s too. He threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and grabbed the valise Maggie had gotten on Deer Creek Slough. “Are you ready, Eban?”
“See you tomorrow, Obadiah.” Eban led them up the street.
Inside the hotel, a hatchet-faced woman perched behind a small lobby desk, the stairs to the second floor rising behind her. Double, oak paneled doors led to the dining room to her right. She looked up from a pile of paperwork with a scowl, angered at the interruption.
Eban closed the door behind him. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Moran. Do you have three rooms you could let us have?”
“Eban Snyder, you’re going to stay in my hotel? Ain’t working for Sutter no more, are you?”
“No, ma’am. Joined up with Fremont. Spent the last two years in the war. How about them rooms?” Eban walked to the desk and spun the hotel register around, ready to sign.
Mrs. Moran grabbed the book from him. “I only got two rooms. Besides, I don’t rent to a woman that ain’t a proper lady.” She cast a harsh eye on Maggie’s clothes.
Maggie‘s face paled. She started to shake. The woman didn’t understand. She needed a room, a room with a door that locked out the threats, the fear. Joshua touched her arm. She leaned into him.
Eban reached over the desk and pulled the book back. “Where’s your Christian decency, ma’am?” His tone was firm but patient. “That young lady lost her husband and son to the cholera just east of the Sierra. She’s had a hard time of it since. We need a good meal and a sound night’s sleep.”
Mrs. Moran squinted at Maggie over the top of her reading glasses, weighing Eban’s story. She stroked her hooked nose with a crooked forefinger and finally nodded. “Well, since she’s with you, Snyder, but I still only got two rooms. You and the army fellow will have to bed double.”
“That’ll be fine.” Eban took the keys and they went upstairs. There were eight rooms on the second floor. They had the last two at the end of the hall, one on the street side and the other facing the rear.
Joshua checked both rooms. “Maggie, I think you would be better off in the back room. At least Jack won’t be able to see you from the street if he does show up.”
“He’ll be here.” She walked past him into the small room. There was only a dresser, a chair, and the bed. A small window looked out over a back road with no buildings on it. In the distance was the American River.
Joshua put her valise on the bed. “Why don’t you clean up and change? We’ll meet you in the dining room.” She gasped, eyes wide, trembling with the fear of suddenly being alone. Joshua noticed. “Maybe I’ll wait for you across the hall.”
She managed a meager smile and nodded. When he left, she snapped the inside bolt shut then leaned against the door and heaved a long, relieved sigh. For the first time since that horrible fall day nearly two years ago, she felt free from harm.
But she knew her safety was only an illusion. The thin door she leaned against could be snapped like a matchstick by Norton’s heavy boot. The walls that now seemed like shelter would only prevent her escape.
Her hope, her salvation, waited across the hall, ready to take her to dinner in the hotel restaurant. How long had it been since she had been out to dinner? She wanted to look her best. She needed to hurry.
She pulled off her riding clothes and cleaned up with water from the pitcher, then slipped into the calico dress. In front of the dresser, she brushed the tangles from her hair. Once, she had brushed her hair every day, but since that fateful day in the Sierra Nevada, she hadn’t even held a hairbrush. Could all that really be over?
The swollen cheek glowed red in the mirror. She couldn’t go into a hotel dining room looking like she’d been beaten. It was Jack’s doing. She shoved the chair back and snatched the corduroy pants from the bed. Without thinking, she thrust a hand into the trouser pocket and felt the smooth, rounded grip of a pistol in her palm. She pulled the little gun out and stared at it. Sweating, shivering, a wave of nausea flowed over her.
She spun back to the mirror. Look what he did to me! I’ll shoot him! She pushed the gun toward the image in front of her, teeth clenched, blood pulsing through the neck. Her thumb reached out to cock the hammer. Oh Lord! She dropped the pistol on the dresser and closed her eyes. Calm down, relax. Breathe deep.
The anxiety passed. Her eyes opened, but the red swollen cheek hadn’t gone away. No! People will think Joshua did this to me! Turning back to the bed, she rummaged through the valise, pulled out the powder and rouge Sarah had given her and began to veil the offending bruise.
Finally satisfied with her work, she put her hair up like Sarah had done last night then gazed at the woman in the mirror. It looked like the same bold pioneer woman who left the comfort of home for an unknown California so long ago, but she knew she would never be the same. From the heat of her ordeal a new woman had been forged from old flesh, a woman she still didn’t know very well.
A rap came at the door. “Maggie, supper’s served. We need to go.” It was Joshua.
“I’m coming.” She took one more look in the mirror. The woman there smiled back at her, picked up the small pistol, slipped it inside her dress and turned to leave.
Downstairs the double doors to the dining room stood open. A jumble of laughter and conversation rolled out into the lobby. With her hand firmly locked on Joshua’s arm, they swept inside. The room quieted, and all eyes turned to her. She felt radiant, beautiful, appreciated, a woman again.
Eban waited at a corner table, and Joshua helped her to a chair. Their meal arrived quickly. She savored every detail as well as each tasty bite. Silverware, napkins, a tablecloth, she hadn’t dined like this since well before her trek across the country began.
After dinner, the men enjoyed a glass of brandy and made small talk. Joshua turned to her. “Well, Maggie, here you are in Sacramento City, just like we promised. Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”
She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin to cover her shock. Didn’t he know what she wanted? Wasn’t last night enough? Or did she misunderstand his motives? Was he planning on leaving her here and going on about his business? She didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to feel, but she had to say something. “I, uh, haven’t had much time to think.”
Eban he
ld out his hands, fingers spread wide, reassuring her. “Now don’t stew on it, Maggie. We’ve had a hard couple of days, but we’ll figure out something. Do you have any family around anywhere at all?”
She twisted the napkin in her hands. “I don’t have anyone. I don’t know what I can do.”
Eban’s smile was reassuring, strong, and comfortable. “Josh and me planned to go up the American River and get some of the gold everybody says is around. Maybe we could find Sheldon and Daylor and work something out with them. It would make me real happy to have you come along, if you think you can take more of the backwoods life. It’ll be hard on you.”
She looked from Eban to Joshua. “I guess I don’t have much choice. I would like to stay with you, if you’ll have me.”
Joshua put his fork down and tugged at his ear. “I don’t think the goldfields are a proper place for a lady. If Jack is after you, then it would be risky too. Shouldn’t you go on to San Francisco or San Diego where Jack might not able to find you?”
She looked down to hide the hurt in her eyes. “I don’t know.” Didn’t he realize how important he was to her now? She put her hand on his. “I shouldn’t have gotten you into this, Joshua. I’m sorry I did, but I needed you. Let me stay with you awhile longer. I’ll work hard. I can dig and pan. Take me with you.” She squeezed his hand as she looked into his eyes.
Eban downed the last of his brandy and stood. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to find some old friends. I’ll see you back at the hotel, Josh. Good night, Maggie.”
Joshua and Maggie sat quietly for a while, her hand still on his, her mind deep in thought. The dinner conversation had brought her situation sharply into focus. What was she to do? She was free of Jack, at least for now, and last night along Deer Creek Slough her true feelings for Joshua had stormed into the open.
She thought that she would never love anyone but her husband. Now she was falling for this man. All she ever wanted was a home of her own and a family to care for. Now she wanted to stay with Joshua wherever he went, but maybe he didn’t want her.
Hangtown Creek: A Tale of the California Gold Rush (A Tom Marsh Adventure Book 1) Page 10
