Jem clomped down the boardwalk past the Big Strike saloon. The place was quiet now, and he remembered he had to trudge back later with his bags of sawdust. It made him tired just thinking about it. He turned the corner that would take him out of town and back to the ranch. Oaks, a few pines, and some cottonwood shaded parts of the road as it meandered between the low-lying hills.
Jem took his time. Hopefully, Pa would overtake the wagon right away, tie up King, and drive everybody home. He’d give Ellie a piece of his mind for thinking she was big enough to drive the wagon. And by the time Jem got back to the ranch, the crisis would be over and Pa would have simmered down. He slowed his pace to a crawl.
Twenty minutes later and only halfway home, Jem reached down and snatched up a rock from the dirt road. Taking aim, he hurled it at a knothole in the trunk of a giant oak. Plunk! The rock bounced off the tree and fell to the ground. Jem threw another rock, then another. Each stone hit the mark dead-center. Nobody could pitch a rock—or a ball—as far or as fast or as accurately as Jeremiah Coulter. He was always chosen first for a game of stickball.
Right now, Jem wished he’d stayed at school and played stickball during noon recess rather than taking off for his gold-panning venture. He fingered the gold in his pocket and sighed, long and deep. He wouldn’t be seeing any more nuggets for quite some time—not with over a month of school left.
The sound of galloping hooves a few minutes later brought Jem’s head up from searching the ground for another stone to throw. His sister was astride Copper, wisps of her auburn hair whipping around her face. It matched the horse’s coloring exactly.
“Jem!” Ellie shouted, bringing Copper to a sudden standstill. The horse sidestepped and tossed his head.
Jem reached out his free hand and took hold of the bridle. “Easy, fella.” He looked at Ellie. “Where are you headed?”
“I came to find you.” She slid off the horse and handed the reins to her brother. “What’s taking you so long to get home?”
Jem shrugged. “I’m giving Pa time to cool off.” Then he burst out, “What were you thinking, Ellie? You’re too little to drive the wagon. Why didn’t you wait for me?” He grabbed a fistful of Copper’s mane and swung himself up on the horse’s bare back. Then he glared down at his sister, whose eyes had widened at his words.
“I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” Ellie said. “It doesn’t seem fair that you have to walk home on account of me, so I came to give you a ride.”
Jem’s anger dissolved at Ellie’s apology. “Does Pa know you’re here?” If Ellie had sneaked off to help him …
She nodded. “I don’t think he’s sore at you anymore, Jem, once he saw we were all right.” She ducked her head. “I pulled the wagon over just outside town. Aunt Rose was pitching a fit about me driving the horses; Nathan kept trying to take over; and Nugget was barking. There was enough noise to wake snakes. I decided I better wait for you or Pa.”
So, she’s got some sense after all, Jem thought in relief.
Ellie looked up. “Pa looked mighty glad to see us. He hugged me and only scolded me a little. Then he drove us back to the ranch. I asked if I could fetch you home on Copper and he said yes.”
Jem grinned and held out his hand. “Come on. Mount up.”
Ellie took Jem’s hand and scrambled up behind him. She settled herself on Copper’s rump and grasped Jem’s suspenders to keep her balance as he urged the horse into a lope. They would be home in no time now.
“Slow down!” Ellie yelled in his ear. “I’m not in any hurry to get home. That’s the other reason I wanted to find you, Jem. I gotta talk to you.”
Jem slowed Copper to a plodding walk. A minute went by, then two. He frowned. “I thought you wanted to talk.” When she didn’t answer, he turned around and looked at her impatiently. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothin’.” Ellie sniffed.
Jem knew better. His sister was never shy with words. “Nothin’” meant something was dreadfully wrong.
“Listen, Ellie,” he said, bringing Copper to a standstill. “We’re almost home. If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then you better come right out and say it.”
“It … it’s too mean to say, but I gotta tell somebody, and not Pa. It would hurt his feelings.”
Jem stared straight ahead and waited. Copper stood still, swishing his tail at the annoying flies buzzing around the travelers. The only sounds came from Ellie’s sniffing and a chattering squirrel in a nearby oak tree.
Finally, she spoke. “Everything’s all wrong, Jem. Upside-down wrong. Aunt Rose and Nathan are moving in. And … and I don’t want them to!”
Jem frowned. “Is that all? Of course they’re moving in. I don’t want them here either, but kinfolk take care of each other. It’s not like it’s a surprise or anything. We read the letter last fall, remember?”
“But I didn’t think they’d change things. You didn’t hear Aunt Rose and Pa talking about it on the way home. They’re changing everything.”
“How can they?” Jem asked. Their small place was more like a cabin than a real house. Three rooms downstairs. An attic loft, where he and Ellie slept and kept their things, separated by an old blanket that hung from a rope strung across the ceiling. A privy out back. A woodshed. A henhouse. A rickety old barn. How could anybody—even a city aunt—change that?
Ellie clamped her fingers around Jem’s suspenders, as if she were ready for a sudden burst of speed from Copper. “Pa’s giving Aunt Rose his room downstairs,” she said. “And Nathan is sleeping up in the attic with you. In my half. Aunt Rose says I can’t sleep up there anymore, and Pa agreed. The attic is for you boys.” She sounded angry. Jem didn’t blame her.
“But where will you sleep?” he asked. A little itch in the back of his mind needed scratching. Nathan upstairs, invading his and Ellie’s attic space? Their aunt in Pa’s room? Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe Pa and Aunt Rose could change everything, after all.
Ellie dug her heels into Copper’s flank, and the horse bounded forward.
“Whoa, there!” Jem pulled back on the reins. “Stop it, Ellie.”
“But I’m so mad,” she confessed. “I have to sleep with Aunt Rose, in Pa’s room. In the same bed even, since it’s big enough. Aunt Rose says relatives sleep in the same bed all the time. I never heard of that, but Pa said the same thing.”
The itch inside Jem’s head got itchier. If Aunt Rose and Ellie slept in Pa’s room …
“Where’s Pa going to sleep?” he asked.
Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe on the floor or out in the barn, until he can build another room.”
Jem didn’t like this idea one bit. Things were upside down for sure! “Maybe I’ll sleep out in the barn with Pa,” he muttered. “It would be a heap better than staying in the attic with our cousin.”
“Me too,” Ellie said with a sudden lilt in her voice. “That’s a jim-dandy idea!”
Jem groaned. That would shame Pa even more, not to mention insult their guests.
“Ellie,” he said, “I was just thinking out loud. I’m not really going to sleep in the barn, and neither are you. We’ve got bigger trouble than where we’re going to sleep.” He twisted around and gave Ellie a serious look. “Did you see what Pa was wearing today?”
She closed her eyes and crinkled her eyebrows, which was Ellie’s way of remembering. “Same as always,” she answered. “Denim britches, gray shirt, black hat, boots—”
“Roasted rattlesnakes, Ellie! Not his clothes! That … that … sheriff’s badge. That shiny, silver star that makes him a target same as if he was wearing a sign that says ‘Shoot me.’”
Ellie sucked in her breath. “I don’t want Pa to be sheriff.”
“Me neither,” Jem said. “It was all right, I reckon, when Pa helped out and was on the miners’ court. He was being a good neighbor and could say no if he wanted to.” Jem shook his head. “But now Pa will have to go after outlaws, on account of it’s his job. And … outlaws don’t like sh
eriffs.”
Jem had a lot more he wanted to say, but a sliver of good sense kept his mouth shut. It would be best not to scare Ellie. He nudged Copper into a fast walk and kept his thoughts to himself.
Worrying about his father chasing down outlaws or officially breaking up lawlessness in Goldtown was only one of Jem’s troubles. Being a sheriff’s kid would also be hard to live with. Everybody always watching to make sure I set a good example. Folks always ready to remind me when I’m not.
Jem had no wish to run wild like the no-account rowdies who broke windows, beat up other kids, and snitched candy from the mercantile. Boys like that gave the Ladies’ Missionary Society plenty of opportunities to pray for their souls and try to set them on the right path.
But Jem did not want to be under a magnifying glass either, always worrying about living up to the standards of being the sheriff’s boy.
“Wonder what the other kids’ll say when they find out,” Ellie murmured.
Jem winced. Will Sterling had already given him a taste of that. Leave it to Ellie to say out loud what he was thinking.
There was no more time for talk. Copper trotted through the wide-open, broken ranch gate and up the short drive to the yard. Noisy yapping greeted Jem and Ellie. Nugget was barking and leaping at something in one of the tall oak trees that grew like weeds all over the ranch.
“Looks like Nugget’s treed a varmint,” Ellie said, chuckling. “Run get the shotgun, Jem. Maybe it’s a raccoon. Didn’t you want a cap made from—”
“It’s no ’coon, Ellie,” Jem said, sliding off Copper’s back. “Not in the middle of the afternoon.” He pointed. “It’s not a four-legged varmint at all.”
CHAPTER 8
City Cousin
“Cousin!” Nathan’s shout came loud and desperate. “Call off your dog. He chased me up this ol’ tree and won’t let me down. I’ve been calling for Uncle Matthew, but nobody can hear me over this yapping beast.”
Jem gave a short, sharp whistle. “Here, Nugget. Come here, fella.”
Tail wagging, the golden dog barked one last time at the boy in the tree, then bounded across the yard to greet Jem and Ellie. Together, they headed back to the oak. Six or seven rough, narrow slats had been nailed up the trunk to allow for handholds. Twelve feet above ground, a rectangular platform squeezed between the spreading branches.
Nathan lay on his belly, peering over the edge of the uneven planks.
Jem pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Laughter gushed up, but he choked it back and jabbed an elbow into Ellie, who was giggling.
“Shhh,” he hissed. Then he called out to the figure above, “You can come down now. I don’t know what got into that dog. He usually only chases cats and ’coons and squirrels up trees.” Jem scratched his head. “And you don’t look like any of those.”
“Maybe he smells like one,” Ellie whispered, which earned her another sharp poke in the ribs.
Slowly, Nathan turned around and scooted over the edge of the platform, feet first. For an instant he hung suspended, until one booted toe found the makeshift ladder rung. He began to cautiously make his way down.
Just then the lowest slat snapped. Nathan lost his footing and landed on the ground with a hard thud. He yelped.
Nugget bounded forward, but Jem grabbed a handful of fur just in time and yanked the dog back. “Stay!” he ordered. Nugget sat down and whined, but he remained at Jem’s side.
“Are you all right?” Ellie squeaked.
Groaning, Nathan pushed himself up from the ground. He didn’t say a word while he brushed the dirt, twigs, and dead leaves from his backside. The mud from town had dried in splotches all over his knickers and jacket. His cap was missing, and his hands were scratched and bleeding. The scratches matched a scrape on his cheek. Nathan looked miserable and out of place standing under a tree in the middle of the California foothills.
Jem felt a twinge of sympathy—not much, but just enough to let his imagination carry him to the center of Boston, Massachusetts. He saw himself standing in the middle of a busy cobblestone street, gawking at the tall buildings and trolley cars, and not knowing what to say. Or where to go. Or how to act. Worse, there would be plenty of city folks ready to make fun of him for how he talked or dressed.
I’d feel just as out of place back East as Nathan is probably feeling right now, Jem thought.
He thrust out his hand. “Welcome to the Coulter ranch, Nathan. It’s not much, but we haven’t starved yet. Sorry about Nugget. I don’t know why Pa didn’t come out and make him mind. Probably thought he was chasing a squirrel. He’s a good watch dog though. If he sees us shaking hands, he’ll know you’re a friend.”
Nathan gave Nugget a wary glance, then clasped Jem’s hand. Some of his tension seemed to melt away, but he didn’t smile.
Jem laughed and clapped Nathan on the shoulder. “Sure wish I could’ve seen you scoot up that tree. By the look of your hands and face, I bet you set a record.”
The ghost of a smile appeared on Nathan’s face. He turned his hands over and studied the scratches. “I didn’t even notice. I just wanted to get away from that dog. He was eyeing me real mean back in the wagon. I knew he was sizing me up and deciding he didn’t like me.”
Jem lost his grin. Another reason I shouldn’t have stopped by the saloon. Nugget did not like strangers. He was a one-family dog. Pa had probably been too busy driving the wagon and talking to Aunt Rose to introduce Nugget to the newest members of the family.
Jem would not have forgotten. And Nathan wouldn’t have had to scramble up a tree. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This has not turned out to be one of my best days.”
“Mine either,” Ellie said.
Nathan gave his cousins a questioning look.
“Pa caught Ellie and me playing hooky this afternoon,” Jem explained. “We were panning for gold out at the creek. It was the first nice day this spring, and I couldn’t stay in that classroom one minute longer.”
To Jem’s surprise, Nathan nodded. “I don’t blame you. Last year, a bunch of us snuck down to the docks to watch a whaling ship come in.” He winced. “The schoolmaster blistered our backsides when he found out. Father was off fighting in the War, or I’d have gotten it from him too.”
Jem’s interest rose a notch. My tenderfoot, slicked-up, city-raised cousin, playing hooky? Bully for him! Maybe there was more to Nathan than he’d seen so far.
“We’ve been in trouble ever since Pa caught us, and the day’s not over yet,” Jem said. “I’ve gotta go back to town and deliver eight bags of sawdust to the saloon. Then, I’ve got to chop firewood for a couple of my customers. But I can’t do any of that until I finish my chores around here first.” He let out a frustrated breath.
Then a new thought hit Jem like a flash. He peered at his cousin. “How old are you?”
“Huh? I’m eleven. What of it?”
“That’s plenty old,” Jem said. His grin returned.
“Plenty old for what?” Ellie and Nathan asked at exactly the same time.
Ellie eyed Jem carefully. “I’m plenty old too,” she reminded him. “You’re not gonna leave me out of anything.”
“I wouldn’t leave you out, Ellie. I was just thinking that Nathan’s old enough to help us with all the chores around here.”
Ellie laughed and clapped her hands. Jem could see her quick brain adding up what an extra pair of hands—two extra pairs if they counted Aunt Rose—would mean. If Nathan was a fast, hard worker, they might get their chores done in half the time, and then …
“We’ll have more time to work the claim this summer!” Ellie finished Jem’s thoughts out loud. She ran to Copper and threw her arms around his neck. Then she led the horse to where Jem and Nathan were still standing under the tree house. “C’mon, Jem. Let’s start teaching Nathan right away.”
Nathan looked aghast. “Chores? What are you talking about?” He glanced around the unkempt yard and shuddered. “No amount of chores can fix this place up.”
>
Jem’s anger spurted, but he choked it back. For the first time, he looked at the ranch with fresh eyes. The tall spring grass was already turning golden. A faded red barn with doors barely hanging on to their rusty hinges rested in a grove of scrub oak. Piles of wood—some cut and stacked, but most scattered in heaps—lay off to one side near a woodshed. A few split-rail corrals, a beat-up wagon, and a couple of outbuildings in disrepair spread out before him.
No wonder his cousin shuddered. The Coulter ranch was not a pretty picture. But Nathan had no right to spout off about it. Didn’t they teach kids manners back East?
“Running a ranch is a lot of work,” Jem said, narrowing his eyes. “Pa does the best he knows how.”
Nathan turned red. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“And we all help,” Ellie interrupted. “There’s milking the cow. Gathering eggs. Chopping wood. Mucking out the barn. Feeding the stock. Mending fences. Rubbing down the horses.”
Nathan’s eyes grew bigger and more horrified as Ellie ticked off the ranch chores on her fingers.
“And those are just the outside chores,” Jem added. “There’s inside chores too, but I’m hoping your ma takes over some of those.”
“So, Nathan,” Ellie said, “Where do you want to start?”
Nathan shook his head and backed away. With a thunk, he fell against the tree trunk. “I c-can’t do any of those things.”
Jem exchanged a glance with Ellie, then took a step forward. “Can’t? Or won’t? Didn’t you do chores back in Boston?”
Nathan looked at his shoes. “We had”—he swallowed—“servants. Mother expected me to keep my room clean and pick up after myself, and study hard at school.”
Ellie gasped. “You must’ve been rich! Only rich folks have hired help. Like Will and Maybelle Sterling. They have a cook and a maid and even a—”
“Oh, Ellie, hush!” Jem interrupted, seeing the stricken look on Nathan’s face. “Sometimes you talk too much. Go put Copper away.”
Ellie clamped her jaw shut. For an instant, it looked like she might refuse to put up the horse. Then with a huff, she yanked on Copper’s reins and headed for the gate to the nearby field.
Badge of Honor Page 5
