Sweet Mountain Magic

by Rosanne Bittner

She followed a Negro servant into a cloakroom and pointed out her cape. The man picked it up and draped it around her shoulders for her. She thanked him and walked out into the outer hall to see Rafe approaching.

  “Mary! What’s wrong?”

  She just stared at him a moment. “You know what’s wrong, Rafe. Why in God’s name didn’t you just tell me how you feel about Roslyn?” Her eyes teared more. “Is this your way of getting back at me for Sage?” His face colored and he looked at her almost helplessly. “At least with Sage I wasn’t aware of what I was doing,” she choked out. “I didn’t do it deliberately to hurt you.”

  She turned and hurried out the front door. Rafe followed after her, hurrying to catch up. He grabbed her arm and turned her. “I’m not deliberately trying to hurt you, Mary,” he pleaded. “I swear to God! It didn’t start out that way at all! If I had wanted to hurt you, I would have flaunted it in front of you—a lot sooner! I’ve been trying to protect you, trying to get hold of my own feelings, trying to tell myself it’s wrong and it can never be!”

  The pain of it stabbed at her like a sword. “So! Now you know,” she almost groaned. “Now you know how it was for me and Sage, how hard it was for me to send him away.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “But I did send him away! And I did it for you! I still loved you, Rafe, and if you just could have accepted that, realized I was still the Mary you married, it could have worked. If you had just loved me back, loved me the way you once did without those…those damned questions and doubts in your eyes every time you looked at me…”

  She began crying harder and turned away again, walking blindly toward the circle of waiting carriages, searching for theirs. Rafe hurried up beside her again, taking her arm firmly. “The carriage is this way,” he told her, leading her to the left. “We’ll go home and talk, Mary.”

  “There is nothing left to talk about,” she sobbed.

  “Yes there is. We’ve been through hell together and I’ll not let it all end in bitterness and tears. You mean too much to me.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “I what?”

  He grasped both her arms then. “You mean too much to me.” His own eyes teared. “No, Mary, I don’t love you the same way anymore. That part is true. But I do still love you, as a wonderful, courageous, strong woman—maybe a better woman than I deserve. You’re a better person than I am, Mary. You gave someone up for me, someone you loved very much. And now…now I’m not sure I can do the same for you.” He smiled nervously, one tear slipping down his cheek and his lips trembling slightly. “So you see, you’re much stronger than I am. I’m being an ass and I damn well know it. And you aren’t to blame for any of it. It just…happened.”

  She blinked in surprise, some of the hurt and hatred leaving her. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  He breathed deeply, quickly wiping his eyes. “Yes. I do. I’ve been living in hell for months, trying to decide what to do, trying to fight my feelings, feeling like a complete ass for what it would do to you, wondering when you would begin asking why I never come to your bed.”

  She hung her head, turning away. “You’ve already made love to her, haven’t you?”

  There followed a long silence. “I’m sorry,” he answered. “I’ve hurt her, too. She’s a good person, not one to…to live in sin, so to speak. I’ve been promising her I would marry her, but I just…haven’t been able—”

  Mary shook her head. “Don’t say anything more,” she told him then. “Let’s go home first. I…I have to think.”

  He took her arm again and led her to their carriage. Both remained silent as they climbed inside. The waiting driver whipped the horse into motion and the carriage was off. Mary stared at the brick, circular driveway as they left, feeling removed from the real world, feeling suddenly as lost as the day Sage MacKenzie had found her.

  How she wanted to hate Rafe Cousteau! But she couldn’t. She had been living just as big a lie as he. The times he had made love to her, she had closed her eyes and thought of Sage MacKenzie. Was the thought any less a form of adultery than Rafe’s physically committing the act with another woman? Both of them had tried. Both of them had lied to the other, had lived in a pretend world. She knew he didn’t really think less of her. In fact, he actually still loved her, and she loved him. But everything had changed, and neither of them knew how to make it better again.

  Rafe slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she let him. She rested her head against his shoulder then, and wept.

  There was no controlling Randy Lucas that summer. He had struck gold, and he celebrated enthusiastically. Every night he got drunk, and every day he slept it off. He bought drinks for everyone in sight and slept with every prostitute in Sierraville and the surrounding mining camps. He filed an official claim, putting it in both his name and Sage MacKenzie’s, and the rest of the summer was spent mining for a week, celebrating another week, mining a week, and celebrating again.

  Sage patiently watched, letting Randy work off his youthful energies. The boy was happy, and Sage figured he deserved the good luck. It meant little to Sage, who was tiring of the constant digging, scratching, and panning. He supposed that if he had had Mary, some children, and some responsibilities, all this would have meant more to him. But now it was nothing more than an adventure, another new experience in life. Running with Randy Lucas had certainly led him to experiences he probably never would have had and places he never would have seen had he been the old Sage MacKenzie, wandering aimlessly through the Rockies. He still thought about scouting for the thousands of people flooding into northern California. But he would give Randy time to cool down and decide just what he was going to do next.

  There was no doubt they both were rich. But without Mary, Sage had no real plans or dreams, literally had no use for the money. Randy, on the other hand, had a different plan every day.

  The boy was beside himself with happiness mixed with indecision. He had money, but he didn’t know quite what to do with it, other than to flaunt it in town and blow it on booze and women. Sage figured that was okay for a while. There was plenty more gold on their claim. But pretty soon Randy Lucas was going to have to calm down and do something sensible with his money.

  Summer moved into fall, then winter, and they continued to dig at their claim, mostly because of Randy’s feverish desire to add to his fortune. He always seemed afraid his good luck would suddenly run out.

  “Europe!” the boy said one day. “We’ll go see Europe—all them fancy places you read about in books, you know? Castles and kings and all that.”

  Sage just laughed. “I’ve got no interest in going to Europe,” he answered.

  “Hell, Sage, you don’t know how to enjoy life. Jesus, you haven’t even tried any of them whores hangin’ around the camps. Some of them would curl your toes. Lord, man, ain’t you got need of a woman? You can buy yourself the best, you know.”

  Sage just grinned, sitting down on a stump and lighting a cigar. “I just haven’t been able to get excited over any of them.” He puffed on the cigar a moment. “There was a time when that was the only kind of woman I knew, Randy, just like you have it now. But once you have the real thing”—he shrugged—“it kind of changes things. Once you’ve had the best, what else is there?”

  Randy sobered, throwing down a shovel. “Well, what about that woman down south—that Henny?”

  Sage puffed on the cigar another moment. “She sure knew how to use those soapy hands,” he joked.

  Randy laughed, then gave out a wolflike howl. “There, you see what I mean? Ain’t you got need of some pretty woman with soapy hands again?”

  Sage chuckled. “Sure I do, like any other man. Henny was…I don’t know…satisfying, I guess you’d say. She was nice—and understanding.” He thought about waking up in tears the next morning, and Henny’s gentle words. “I was just trying to get something out of my system, I guess. But it didn’t work. But don’t you worry about me, Randy. You have your fun. When my insides can’t take any more starva
tion in the way of women, I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  Randy scowled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “My God, Sage. You still pinin’ after that Mary Cousteau woman?”

  Sage held his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand it. Just accept it, Randy. Don’t be telling me how I should feel and when I should take a woman.”

  The young man looked hurt. “I didn’t mean to do that, Sage.”

  Sage nodded. “I know.” He rose, walking over and picking up a shovel of his own. “Let’s get to work. You said you wanted to start along that north ridge above.” He tied his wolf-skin coat more tightly around his neck. Winter was setting in, and they were high enough in the Sierras to get a taste of the bitter cold and savage winter that would come to the highest elevations. Sage well knew that Sierra winters were usually even worse than winters in the Rockies.

  Randy jumped up, immediately a ball of energy again. “Sage, I think there’s enough gold behind them rocks to sink a ship. That’s where the creek water seeps from.”

  “Gonna be hard digging up there. That’s pretty solid rock. And when it’s cold, it’s that much harder to dig.”

  “I know. That’s why I got some blasting powder in town day before yesterday! I bought it back here and stored it in the shed while you were involved in that card game. Come and see!”

  Sage followed the boy past the tiny one-room cabin. Sage considered the structure more of a shack than anything else, not nearly as roomy and comfortable as the cabin he had shared with Mary. He wondered if that cabin still stood, if anyone else had used it. Was the wood still stacked in front of it? He swallowed against the pain of memories and walked with Randy to a shed behind the cabin.

  “Look here, Sage!” Randy pointed to several barrels that read: “DANGER: BLASTING POWDER.”

  Sage backed up, taking his cigar from his mouth. “Jesus, Randy, you’ve got to be careful with that stuff.”

  “Why, hell, I know that. I had Bill Cooley haul it up here in his supply wagon. He was real careful.”

  “You don’t know how to use this stuff, and neither do I!”

  “Well, we’ll soon learn, won’t we?”

  Sage grabbed his shoulder as Randy picked up two of the small barrels and started back to the diggings. “Randy, wait! You could bring half the side of that cliff down on us! We’re better off hiring someone who knows what the hell he’s doing.”

  Randy rolled his eyes impatiently. “God, Sage, you’re only fifteen years older than me, but sometimes you act like a really old man. You gotta take risks in this life if you want to succeed. Hell, we’ve already got a hell of a strike here. All we have to do is spread some of this stuff around and set if off, and boom! The gold comes pourin’ out, and we don’t lift a shovel!”

  Sage kept a firm grip on his shoulder. “I may not be an old man yet, but I intend to get old, and a man doesn’t get old without also being smart. Now I say the smart thing is to hire somebody who knows what to do with this stuff.”

  Randy sighed, jerking his shoulder away. “You ain’t my pa, Sage! You can’t order me around! It was my idea to come here and look for gold. If not for me, you wouldn’t be a rich man now! It’s got so I can’t have any fun around you anymore, Sage. We go to town and you just sit around long faced over that woman, and the whores laugh and wonder why in hell you don’t ever take a woman. You’re always acting like some wise old man and treating me like a stupid kid who can’t make decisions on his own. I asked you to be my friend, not treat me like you’re the wise old man and I’m the baby! I don’t need a pa, Sage, I need a friend! And I need somebody who has some faith in me! Now I got this powder, and I had big plans to use it today, and I’m gonna use it!”

  Sage stared at him in surprise, anger rising in his blood. “You’re right, Randy. I’m not your pa. And I’d sure as hell never be the kind of pa he was. But right now I’m understanding why he clobbered you a few times! As far as women, when I lay with one and when I don’t is none of your business, or anybody else’s! If it embarrasses you, then find yourself a friend who likes to jump from one whore’s bed to another! And when it comes to making decisions, yes, it’s because of your decision that we’ve got a gold claim. But you’re also the one who decided to go to Mexico, and I’m gonna limp the rest of my life because of it!”

  Sage threw down his shovel and stalked toward his horse. Randy watched the man struggle to walk hard and fast, realizing how hard it was for him.

  “Sage, wait!” he yelled out. “I didn’t mean it, Sage!”

  “Yes, you did,” Sage hollered back. “Admit it, Randy! You’re tired of running with me, and maybe I’m tired of being around a kid who never seems to grow up! I’ve been wanting to head back to the mountains, maybe do some scouting. I’m getting out of here a while. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

  “Sage!” Randy ran up to the man’s horse, grabbing the reins. “Really, Sage, I didn’t mean it.” His eyes teared. “Damn it, Sage, you’re the only person who ever gave a damn about me—ever! You’re the best friend I’ve got in the whole world. I don’t know why I said them things. Maybe…maybe we’ve just been buried up here too long, you know? Maybe we both need to get away from here. But let’s mine this place out as much as we can—just a while longer.”

  Sage sighed deeply, always ending up feeling sorry for the young man who had been lonely, unloved—always seeing himself in Randy Lucas.

  “Gold has a way of screwing up a man’s mind, Randy. When is enough enough? I’m for selling this claim to somebody with the money and know-how to mine it right. If we want to do it right, we’ll be here forever. I didn’t want it in the first place. But it’s gotten into your blood now. You think about that. I’m going back into Sierraville for a couple of days. Maybe this time I should go alone. We need to be away from each other, do some thinking.”

  Randy stepped back, blinking back tears and nodding. “Okay. You’ll come back, won’t you?”

  Sage sighed resignedly. “Yeah. You know I will.”

  “Will you bring somebody who can work with blasting powder?”

  Sage saw the hope in the young, eager face. “I’ll find somebody to help.”

  “We’re still friends?”

  “I reckon. But come spring, it’s my turn to decide what I want to do. I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life up here. I’m glad we found gold, but I say there’s a time to make money, and a time to enjoy that money—do the things a man really wants to do. Agreed?”

  Their eyes held. “Trouble is, Sage, you don’t know what you want to do. You just keep looking for a way to be happy—to forget about that woman. Only you won’t let yourself forget. That’s your fault, not mine.”

  Sage nodded sadly. “I expect you’re right about that.” He turned his horse. “I’ll be back in a couple of days, unless a snowstorm stops me. You’ve got plenty of supplies. Keep digging, boy.”

  Randy watched the man ride into a stand of huge fir trees. Old fears of desertion swept over him. He immediately pressed his lips together, determined not to let anyone ever hurt him again, not even Sage MacKenzie. Sage thought he was so much older and wiser. He’d show him!

  He looked down at the barrels of powder in his hands. It couldn’t be all that complicated. He looked again in the direction in which Sage had ridden. Sage had disappeared onto the sharply dropping rock path that led up the steep mountain to their claim. It was the first time they had argued and spent time apart since he had first run into Sage back in Texas.

  “Damn you, Sage MacKenzie,” the boy groaned. Randy Lucas had been neglected and abused for far too many years to understand that one argument was not going to destroy a friendship. In his mind someone else he loved was deserting him. It brought out the old armor, the determination not to care, and the rebellious spirit that had gotten him in trouble off and on most of his life. He carried the barrels of powder up the ridge, then returned for more, lighting a cigar on the way and grinning confidently.

 
Sage squinted with pain as he dismounted. He had not wanted to make Randy feel responsible for his wounded hip, but the boy had made him angry. He would patch things up when he went back to camp, but it had taken him nearly a day to get to town. He would spend the night here.

  He tied his Appaloosa, petting the horse’s neck and remembering how he had first gotten him. It was the day Sax Daniels had come to tell him Mary had run away from the wagon train. Sage had traded his horse for two of Sax’s. This had been one of them.

  Mary. That was where his real happiness lay. Randy was right. He could quit the mine, go do some scouting, and he still wouldn’t be happy. But Sage decided he would be happier doing that than staying up at that claim day in and day out for months at a time. He longed to go back to the Rockies now. Maybe his emotional wounds were healed enough that he could go back to Fort Bridger, look up Sax Daniels, find out how Red Dog was doing. Besides, they deserved to know what had happened to him. Still, the thought of going back into those mountains, back to those familiar places, brought out the stabbing pain that never seemed to ease up on him.

  But there was Randy to think about, too. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, but Randy wasn’t a boy. He was a man, and he had to learn to be on his own. Yes, it was a lonely life. Sage knew that better than anyone. They had a fine friendship, had had some crazy and good times together, had been there for each other when each desperately needed the companionship. But Sage was ready to move on now, and Randy wasn’t. Sage supposed just the fact that he was older and more experienced in life gave him the ability to realize when it was time to travel with a friend, and time to travel alone.

  Sage was ready to go back to what he called home—the beautiful, shining mountains of Wyoming. Mary understood how he loved them, understood his need to be a part of that land. Randy didn’t understand. Maybe if the boy came with him, he would learn to love them as much as Sage.

  He would try to talk the boy into coming with him. Randy had gold in his blood, and it was changing him. Sage didn’t like the change. He had feared something like this when they had first come to northern California. He had seen the light in Randy’s eyes, the eagerness, the longing to find gold, for to someone like Randy riches represented a kind of security he had never known. In spite of how friendly Sage had been to him, deep down inside Randy didn’t trust in anything. If his own father, who should have loved him more than anyone, had betrayed and abused the boy, how could he put his trust in the love of a man who two years ago had been a complete stranger? His riding out of camp must have given Randy some real doubts. Sage was sorry about it now, yet it was something that he had had to do. Randy needed to be alone, needed to give some thought to his life, his future, and their friendship.