by Val Wood
Mr Charlesworth tapped his leather hat at Georgiana as he moved away, but Lake sat still on his mount for a moment longer, just staring at her. Then he nodded. ‘You look good, lady,’ he said in a low voice, ‘a fine woman.’ As he rode off he added laconically, ‘That blanket suits you.’
‘Do you think they saw us from up the mountain, Kitty?’ she asked when the girl came back after giving the men coffee.
‘They’d have to have good eyesight, Miss Georgiana.’ Kitty laughed. ‘Maybe Lake did, but Mr Charlesworth’s a gentleman so he’d never admit to it.’
‘Mm.’ Georgiana brushed her damp hair and pinned it up. ‘I’m not too sure about that. Charlesworth had a gleam in his eye that I didn’t care for. I hope they don’t laugh about it with the other men,’ she said crossly.
Kitty shrugged. ‘Well, we’re covered up now, and, miss, you’re not showing any more than if you were wearing one of those ballgowns that you sometimes wore.’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘That is perfectly true. But I was never afraid of a ballgown falling down as I am with this blanket.’ Georgiana hitched it up. ‘Where did you find the shirt?’
‘I think it’s Isaac’s.’ Kitty giggled. ‘I remembered that I’d seen it the other day when I was tidying up. It is clean,’ she added. ‘Well, almost.’
By the time Dreumel and the other men came down the mountain, Georgiana had put on her newly washed clothes. They were still damp and clung to her body, but she felt more comfortable and less embarrassed as she again greeted Charlesworth and Lake, apologizing for her previous appearance.
‘Apologies are not necessary, Miss Gregory.’ Charlesworth bent over her hand. ‘Rather it is we who should regret coming upon you so suddenly. Certainly you would not have expected company.’
‘Indeed not.’ Georgiana glanced at Lake, who was honing a knife as he sat on the bench outside the longhouse door. He cast a brief look at her and she saw a touch of humour around his mouth.
Damn him! He did see us from the mountain. He must have eyes like a hawk! She felt a flush rise to her face and, embarrassed, she excused herself and went off to speak to Dreumel.
Kitty and Isaac cooked supper. He’d caught fish and she persuaded him to help her fry it. He grumbled constantly. ‘I nivver thought I’d be doing wimmin’s work,’ he complained. ‘I came here to guard the camp.’
‘But the other cook was a man, wasn’t he?’ Kitty asked him. ‘And if I show you how to do it now, when Miss Georgiana and I move on, then you’ll be able to do it yourself.’
‘Move on?’ He blinked at her. ‘Move on where? Shucks, I thought you were staying on here!’
‘Well, we can’t stay here for ever.’ She flipped the fish over. ‘Miss Georgiana will want to go to other places, I expect.’
Isaac went to the door and called out to where Georgiana was sitting on a bench with Dreumel, Charlesworth and Ted. ‘Miz Gianna. I just heard from this gel of your’n that you’ll be movin’ on pretty soon!’
‘Probably.’ She turned towards him. ‘There’s nothing to keep us here.’ She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. ‘In fact, I was wondering, Lake, if you would accompany us back to No-Name when you return?’ She looked up at him as he leaned against the cabin wall, but lowered her eyes in confusion as she realized that he had been watching her with his dark unfathomable gaze.
‘Two days,’ he grunted. ‘If Mr Charlesworth is ready we go back in two days.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dreumel, Charlesworth and Ted went off early to the mine the following morning. They had talked well into the night, as Georgiana discovered when, unable to sleep, she had risen from the hard bunk and gone to the cabin door and looked out. She had at first smelt the aroma of tobacco, and glancing towards the longhouse she saw the shadowy figures of the men in deep conversation.
They returned down the mountain in the evening and she saw from the expression on each face that the discussions had not gone well. Wilhelm Dreumel’s face was impassive, Charlesworth’s set as if in stone, whilst Ted wore a look of pure fury. He stormed off to the cabin he shared with the other men, appearing a moment later clad only in a pair of flannel breeches. He raced down to the creek and flung himself into the water.
Georgiana was curious to know what had been the outcome. Would Charlesworth pull out of the venture or not? But she was not at liberty to ask, for, as she quietly said to Kitty, it was really nothing to do with her. ‘We’ll move back to New York, Kitty,’ she said solemnly. ‘There is no reason to stay here, which is a pity, for I do rather like it.’
‘Oh so do I, Miss Georgiana. But what will we do in New York?’ Kitty asked. ‘I suppose it will be luncheon parties and supper parties and suchlike?’ Her mouth turned down at the probability, showing that she was as dispirited by the prospect as Georgiana was herself.
Georgiana sighed. The thought of attending social functions did not appeal, especially if there were people like Mrs Charlesworth in attendance, and poor Kitty, what will she do apart from press my gowns and make sure I have clean gloves and stockings? She looked down at the boots she was wearing on her bare feet, and turned over her hands to examine her fingernails. They were chipped and torn, and her hands were scratched from carrying wood to the stove.
She gave a wry smile. Mr Charlesworth had said to her that he could not see her wearing homespun or carrying water from a well when she had argued that pioneer women travelled across the country, as she wanted to do. Perhaps it is just a novelty at the moment, she conceded, and I suppose I do like my creature comforts. I cannot say that I am enamoured of having to take a spade to the furthest tree to dig a latrine. She paused in her reverie as she remembered that Kitty had told her what she should do. Kitty seemed to know how to manage these personal matters. She gave another sigh and, turning to the cabin door, she looked out. These last few days had opened her eyes to so many issues, not least of all about herself.
‘Miss Gregory!’ Mr Charlesworth greeted her. ‘I have decided to leave tomorrow. So if we are to travel together perhaps you would be ready?’
‘Oh! So soon?’ She was disappointed. ‘I thought – have you finished your discussions with Mr Dreumel?’ she was emboldened to ask.
‘Oh yes, there is nothing more to discuss. Dreumel wants to sink another shaft, but in view of what we now know about that fellow Ted, or whatever he calls himself, I am not prepared to take the risk! He plainly does not have the experience as he claims, so I shall pull out.’ He lifted his head and looked down the valley. ‘I might put my money in the railroads. That seems to be the thing to do.’
Georgiana was aghast. It was her fault! If she hadn’t blurted out to Charlesworth about the real Edward Newmarch, he would have stayed in partnership with Wilhelm Dreumel. Ted and Mr Dreumel probably thought of her as an interfering busybody of a woman.
‘We will be ready. Will you excuse me, Mr Charlesworth,’ she said abruptly. ‘I need to speak to Mr Dreumel.’
She walked along the boardwalk to where Dreumel was seated outside the longhouse. He was puffing steadily and contemplatively on a pipe, the smoke curling lazily above him. He took it out of his mouth as she approached, and started to rise.
‘No, please don’t get up,’ she said. ‘I – er, I wanted to apologize, Mr Dreumel. I’m so sorry that Mr Charlesworth is pulling out of your venture. I feel that I am to blame for telling him about Ted.’
‘Not at all, Miss Gregory. You acted in good faith. It is to your credit that you wanted to see justice done. I was just thinking,’ he said, drawing on his pipe again. ‘Or debating, perhaps I should say, on whether to borrow against my newspaper and sink another shaft, or whether—’ He pulled a sardonic face. ‘Or whether I should be blowing up my newspaper as well as the chances of success with another shaft! I must also try to buy Charlesworth’s claim or he will sell it to someone else.’
‘You must be very sure of finding gold,’ she cautioned. ‘And can you be? One hundred per cent sure?’
‘No,
’ he admitted. ‘I cannot.’
‘Kitty and I are leaving tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Mr Charlesworth says he is going, so we will travel with him and Lake. There is no reason for us to stay,’ she added reluctantly.
He nodded. ‘I shall be sorry to see you go. It was good to have you here.’ He smiled at her. ‘To discuss my problems with you.’
‘Some of which you would not have had if I hadn’t appeared on the scene,’ she said, a little shamefaced.
‘Ah!’ He made a protesting gesture. ‘We would still have had trouble, with the mine, with the railroads. You did not cause those problems!’
‘I wish I could help,’ she said. ‘I really do.’
They were ready for their journey by daybreak. Georgiana and Kitty had nothing much to pack, for they had brought little, but Mr Charlesworth had two packs loaded onto the spare horse. ‘Bet he’s brought his shaving tackle and a spare nightshirt,’ Kitty whispered and Georgiana smiled.
Mr Charlesworth had not lost his spruce and elegant manner of dress. His cord breeches and boots looked clean in spite of the long journey to Dreumel’s Creek, and the wide-brimmed hat he was wearing to keep the sun from his face was of the softest leather, unlike the other men’s battered and cracked headgear.
Everyone came to see them off. Isaac lifted his hat as he had done on their arrival and said he was mighty sorry that they were leaving. ‘It’s bin good to have wimmin about the place,’ he declared. ‘Specially them as can cook,’ he said to Kitty.
‘No hard feelings, Miss Gregory?’ Ted said. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey.’ He added quietly, ‘I don’t know what to say about Mrs Newmarch, I really don’t. I could say she’s well shot of her husband. He left her and he’s a bad lot. But who knows.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe she cares for him.’
‘Not a wasted journey,’ Georgiana replied. ‘I shall think of it as an experience.’ But about her cousin May Newmarch she made no comment. May, she decided, must do what she will with her life, as I have done with mine. Her gaze followed the former valet as he went to speak to Kitty. And I suppose you too, Robert Allen or Ted Newmarch, only took the opportunity which presented itself when there was no other.
Wilhelm Dreumel bowed over her hand with an old-world courtesy, which even in this isolated place didn’t seem amiss coming from him. ‘I hope we will meet again, Miss Gregory,’ he said. ‘Shall you stay at the Marius when in New York?’
‘Oh, yes, indeed I shall. Besides,’ she said with a laugh, ‘I have left some of my belongings there.’ She looked down at the borrowed clothes she was wearing, which were extremely crumpled and stained in spite of being washed in the creek.
‘They will be perfectly safe,’ he said. ‘The staff were instructed to attend you. Goodbye.’ His eyes gazed warmly at her. ‘Lake will take care of you.’
Georgiana mounted Hetty, who frisked and skittered as if she realized she was journeying home, whilst Kitty got up behind Lake. Charlesworth sat straight-backed on his horse and didn’t seem at ease. He’s not used to horses, she surmised, and realized that he had said very little to Wilhelm Dreumel this morning and nothing at all to the men. This has been only a business venture for him, she thought as she gathered up the reins in her hand. Charlesworth does not have a feeling for this valley in the same way that Wilhelm Dreumel has. He has sunk money into the shaft only to make more money.
‘Goodbye, everybody,’ Kitty cried as Lake dug his heels into his mount. She waved her hand. ‘Goodbye, Ted.’ She looked back to where Ted was standing apart from the others. ‘Don’t give up!’
He raised his hand. ‘I won’t.’
What does she mean? Georgiana pondered as she too waved a last goodbye, feeling sad as she saw Wilhelm Dreumel standing forlornly, one hand hanging listlessly by his side, the other clutched to his chin as if deliberating on a problem.
They had to dismount and lead the horses part of the way up the steep side of the mountain, and as they sweated and strained, Georgiana realized why Lake had said they must leave at daybreak. To come up during the heat of day would have been impossible. Eventually they reached the rocky clearing below the tree line where they had first looked down on the valley, and they stopped and gazed down again. ‘It is so lovely,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘I feel honoured to have been here.’
Beside her, Charlesworth harrumphed. ‘I’m not sure that the panorama justifies the difficulty of getting here. As far as I’m concerned the whole effort has been a waste of time and money.’
‘But surely,’ Georgiana looked at him, ‘you must have believed in the venture at the beginning?’
‘When Dreumel told me that he was risking the Marius to look for gold so he could buy cattle, I did believe that it was worthwhile. I speculated that no-one would take that kind of risk unless it was a one hundred per cent sure thing.’
That’s just what I said to Mr Dreumel, Georgiana thought. And he was sure. But now he is not!
‘However, they’ve been weeks and not brought out enough gold to buy a decent supper, let alone cattle. No,’ Charlesworth gazed down into the valley, ‘it’s not for me. I’ll sell my interest in the claim for the best offer and think I’m well rid of it.’
Georgiana saw Lake give a derisory glance at Charlesworth, but his only remark was that they must get on. They should ride whilst the morning was cool and stop again at noon. Lake led the way along the track, with the packhorse behind him, Georgiana following and Charlesworth at the rear. But the going was slow as, within an hour, Charlesworth complained that his saddle was loose and he was uncomfortable. They stopped whilst it was adjusted and a little later he said that he must stop to have water, and again they waited whilst he unfastened his water bottle and took a drink. Eventually, Lake insisted that Charlesworth rode behind him, leaving Georgiana to take up the rear position.
Their stop for rest was at the cabin where they had spent the night on their outward journey, and they were glad of the respite and the chance to quench their thirst from the stream. Kitty had brought slices of meat, soda bread and dry biscuits. Charlesworth greedily took more than his share. Lake refused all food but drank deeply from the stream. Fifteen minutes later he urged them on.
‘Good heavens, man,’ Charlesworth objected. ‘These ladies need more time to rest.’
‘There is no more time,’ Lake insisted. ‘We have only one more rest before nightfall. And a storm is gathering.’
Georgiana was happy to continue, wanting the journey over as soon as possible. Charlesworth in front of her was constantly grumbling. About the heat, about his horse, about banging his head on the overhanging branches and about the futility of his excursion. She yearned to tell him to be quiet for she needed time to think, and to savour the experience of travelling in a country which was still wild, as yet untamed by man’s hand.
Mr Dreumel will take care of his valley, she deliberated. If he gets the chance. But there will be others who would not. Men like Charlesworth who want only to make money for their own use and not for the common good. I wonder how much his share of the mine is worth, she mused. Mr Dreumel hasn’t the funds to buy Charlesworth’s share and sink another shaft. She thought of Ted, so committed to the mine, yet without the money to put into it. How strange, she suddenly realized, he said he has Edward Newmarch’s letters of credit, yet he hasn’t attempted to use them. She gave a silent derisory laugh at herself. And I thought he was a rogue!
But he could use it, she reflected. It’s of no use to anyone, left in his pocket. And May doesn’t know of it. Then she felt guilty at such an improper notion and dismissed it.
She was still thinking on the matter when Lake called a halt at the end of the day. It had been a difficult journey with fallen trees across their path which had to be negotiated, and a heat which became more and more sultry and intolerable. ‘We must make shelter quickly,’ Lake said. ‘Before the storm breaks.’
They had been steadily descending the forest trail and had come out into a clearing where a stream gathered i
nto a pool then cascaded over the edge of the crest. A clap of thunder sounded loud over their heads. Lake dismounted and lifted Kitty down. ‘Hurry,’ he said to her as he unbuckled the packs and released whippy poles which had been strapped to the pony’s side, and set them down. ‘Unfasten the packs and take the canvas over there.’
He indicated towards a hollow set into the mountain wall. It was almost a cave yet not deep enough to be called one, and it was here that Lake unrolled the canvas which Kitty had shaken from one of the packs. He fastened the poles together with twine from his deep pocket, and quickly placed the canvas over them to make a tent.
Georgiana led Hetty, Lake’s horse and the packhorse to the pool to drink and expected Charlesworth to do the same, but he sat astride his mount and looked around him. ‘I don’t think this is a very good place,’ he pronounced. ‘We should stay in the forest.’
‘You stay in the forest if you want to,’ Lake muttered without turning round. ‘But this is the best place to camp. We can’t light a fire in the forest.’
‘I’ll get kindling, shall I?’ Georgiana asked him as she tethered the horses.
Lake looked up and nodded and she went back into the forest, bringing out short dead branches, dry pine needles and cones. ‘Good,’ he said, when she came back and piled them into a pyramid in front of the tent. ‘You bin a trapper’s bride?’
‘No!’ she laughed. ‘I saw you do it when you brought us here.’
‘Ah!’ Again he nodded. A man of few words, she thought, yet she was aware of a warm sense of approval tinged with something which she couldn’t quite define. Then she flushed as she realized it was admiration she saw in his glance.
‘There won’t be room for all of us in there,’ Charlesworth interrupted.
