Gold Rush Bride

by Shirley Kennedy

  Her friend gave a rueful laugh. “Not so much, not this part anyway. Did you hear what Alano said about the anacondas? The huge snakes that wind themselves around the branches? They can reach down and grab you without warning.” She shuddered and looked warily around. “If one gets me, I’m a goner for sure. I wish we hadn’t stopped here. This place gives me a bad feeling.”

  Mary joined them. “I get a bad feeling, too.” The mark on her face had faded. She looked far better than she did yesterday when she was about to throw herself in the river.

  “Is everything all right now?” Letty asked. “You know what I mean.”

  Mary smiled. “Whatever you did, I thank you. I know Mr. Morgan had a talk with her. Since then, she’s been a lot nicer. That doesn’t mean she’s in a better mood, though. It’s like she’s mad at the world. Mr. Morgan does his best, but nothing pleases her.”

  “Listen, listen!” Hands cupped to his mouth, Alano was shouting to get everyone’s attention. “Don’t go near water. Not safe.”

  “Not safe to drink?” someone asked.

  Alano vigorously shook his head. “Crocodiles. You stay away.”

  Betsey started to laugh. “That’s all I need. If an anaconda doesn’t get me, a crocodile will. Ah, Letty, what do you suppose they’re doing in Boston right now?”

  Letty only half heard. She’d just caught sight of Garth. He wasn’t doing anything special, just sitting on a log, talking with Mathew and Honoria, yet she got a painful tightness in her throat at the sight of him. It’s over. But then, not really. How foolish to grieve over a vague something that hadn’t even begun. Her choice, and she mustn’t forget that. Honoria was talking to him. From the way her head bobbed and her hands waved, Letty could easily see she was complaining about something. Poor man. Even though he’d made her heart ache, she felt sorry for him.

  * * * *

  With an effort, Garth kept a pleasant expression on his face. God was testing him. Yes, that had to be the answer. God had sent Honoria Leffington, the most shrill-voiced, unreasonable, demanding woman in the world to see if he was man enough to handle her. Either he would or go insane. As if that weren’t enough, he could kick himself over what he’d done to Letty this morning. He could still see the hurt in her eyes when he’d snubbed her. And why had he snubbed her? Only because he was so attracted to her, he’d deliberately hurt her to keep her away. How weak could he be? What kind of a man was he? He would definitely apologize.

  Honoria was talking to him, hadn’t closed her mouth for he didn’t know how long because he’d shut out her voice completely. Now, judging from the quizzical way she was looking at him, some sort of response was required. “All I can say, Honoria, is we’re more than halfway there. If you can just hang on—”

  “This is all your fault, Garth Morgan.” Her lip lifted in an ugly sneer. “You knew what Panama was like, yet you insisted we come this way.”

  How sad to see her face contorted with anger. She wasn’t always this way. The little girl he’d grown up with had always been willful and selfish, but she’d also been lively and full of fun. Never a bore, not Honoria. For some incredibly unfathomable reason, her husband, the esteemed Major Arnold Leffington, fell in love with her at first sight and loved her still. Fine. What a glorious day it would be when they got to San Francisco and Leffington would take his precious wife off his hands. “We’ve been through this, Honoria. What’s the point? We’re halfway there. We can’t turn back now, so why argue?”

  His reply served only to make her more incensed than she already was.

  She stood, reached to straighten that ridiculous hat and looked toward the lagoon. “I need some water.”

  Garth stood up to face her. “You can’t go there. Didn’t you hear what Alano said?” He reached for the canteen attached to his belt and held it out. “If you’re thirsty, drink this.”

  She sniffed with contempt. “No, thank you. Alano isn’t going to tell me what to do, and neither are you.” Shoulders stiff, head held high, she turned and strode toward the lagoon, so indignant she didn’t think to hold her skirt up, and it dragged in the mud.

  Frowning with concern, Mathew stood up and called, “It’s not safe, Mrs. Leffington. There’re crocodiles.”

  Garth started after her. “Honoria, don’t be foolish.”

  She didn’t look back. When she reached the edge of the lagoon, she bent over and reached out a hand. Suddenly a tremendous splash. Something burst from the water. Something long, gray-green and covered with scales. Something with huge open jaws and rows of dagger-like teeth. Garth couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Honoria, clamped in the creature’s jaws—one quick, shrill, horrified scream—the creature rolling over, her body clenched in its teeth—another splash, and then…

  One moment she was there, the next, she wasn’t.

  My God, she’s gone.

  The churning water turned bright red but not for long. Slowly the red faded away until the water came clear again and smooth as glass, just as before, only now a broad-brimmed hat with a big purple bow gently floated on the surface.

  Chapter 11

  How could such a horrendous thing have happened? Only seconds ago, Letty had been laughing and talking with her friends. From the corner of her eye, she’d noticed Honoria Leffington heading for the lagoon and thought how foolish after Alano warned them not to. And then…

  A crocodile, and Honoria is standing there. Letty slammed her hand to her mouth in horror and stood frozen, so shocked she couldn’t move.

  “Dear God,” Betsey cried. She’d pressed her hands to her face, eyes wide with revulsion. Except for gasps of horror, no one made a sound. When the dreadful event was over, everyone stared transfixed at the hat with the purple bow floating on the water.

  Letty didn’t know how long she stood there before Betsey made the sign of the cross. “God rest her soul.”

  Tears streamed down Mary’s face. She sank to her knees. “How awful. How horrible. I can’t believe what just happened. Oh, the poor woman. I should never have spoken ill of her.”

  Letty tried to talk, but she could hardly breathe, let alone get a word out. Honoria gone, eaten by a crocodile. No, no. She could make no sense of this unspeakable tragedy. Who could believe such a thing? Except she’d seen all of it—had been looking directly at Honoria when the crocodile clamped her in his jaws and... Horrible, horrible, mustn’t think about it. She closed her eyes, but the ghastly image wouldn’t go away. Such an incredible happening couldn’t be real except, why else would the whole pack train be in such an uproar? Men shouting, women screaming, people running aimlessly around. Not one person approached the water’s edge, though. No one except Garth, who stood staring at the water as if transfixed. As she watched, Mathew, calling from a safe distance, kept urging him to get away from the lagoon. At first, Garth appeared not to hear him, but finally he bowed his head as if saying a prayer and shortly thereafter returned to the log. Now he sat with his face buried in his hands, ignoring everyone. Letty could only imagine the torment he must be going through. She walked to where he was sitting, still with his head in hands. “Garth, I’m so sorry.”

  He raised his head and looked up at her with tortured eyes. “It happened so fast. I couldn’t get to her in time. I should have—”

  “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “Thank you for that. Most kind of you. She was in my care.” He spoke in an agonized whisper, voice numbed with shock, as if he hardly knew she was there. He put his head in his hands again.

  Nothing more to be said. Best to leave him alone. She turned away and returned to her friends.

  Elfreda came to stand beside her. “I’m praying for her.” Shaking her head, clicking her tongue, she added, “The Lord moves in mysterious ways.”

  Letty bit her lip. “I tried to talk to Mr. Morgan, but I don’t think he heard.”

  “Of course not,” Elfreda said with an adamant shake of her head. “Mr. Morgan isn’t going to be c
omforted any time soon. He’s a proud man. I suspect he’s always got what he wanted and always had his way, and that’s what’s made him mighty arrogant. Well, he didn’t get his way today. Mrs. Leffington was in his care, and look what happened. See how he’s sitting there with his face hid? That crocodile brought him down to size, and he doesn’t want to talk to anybody, not even you.”

  A pall hung over the pack train as the travelers got underway again, the horse with the empty saddle bringing up the rear. Like everyone else, Letty rode in dazed silence, badly shaken, trying to come to grips with how cruel life could be, and how unpredictable the twists and turns of fate.

  Chapter 12

  On the rest of the way to Panama City, the trail was still steep and muddy, the animals still balky, but not one complaint could be heard. Those who had witnessed the gruesome event at the lagoon were shocked into silence, their minor discomforts insignificant compared to Honoria Leffington’s ghastly demise. Letty could think of nothing else. There were times when she could not believe she’d actually seen Honoria Leffington in the jaws of a crocodile, but the woman was gone, so it must be true. Heeding Elfreda’s advice, she stayed away from Garth. Stony-faced and mute, he kept strictly to himself. No one dared approach him. His grim expression clearly signaled he would not entertain any attempt at sympathy. Just leave him alone.

  Mary was no longer with them. Shocked and at times hysterical, she had no desire to continue, and no reason why she should. Through Mathew, Garth arranged for her return on a pack train headed back to Chagres, and her passage on a ship bound for home.

  Two days out of Gorgona, they caught the scent of salt air from the Pacific. After passing primitive huts, then stone houses and massive ruined buildings, the pack train entered Panama City. Abner Massey had booked them to San Francisco on the steamship Panama. Letty hoped the ship would be waiting in port when they got there. She could see already she wouldn’t want to spend much time in this town.

  Though larger than Chagres, Panama City wasn’t much to look at, just another old Spanish town—dingy and antiquated with dirty streets and dilapidated walls crumbling into the sea. Rows of shabby houses with red-tiled roofs lined the streets. A great number of churches seemed to be constantly ringing their bells. The natives were a diverse lot, their color ranging from white to black with every shade in-between. Aside from the natives, a multitude of foreigners, most of whom appeared to be American gold seekers, jammed the city. Many looking gaunt and desperate, they were sleeping on the streets and beaches and searching the alleys for discarded food. Why hadn’t they left for California? She couldn’t imagine why they were still here.

  Abner Massey had recommended the Americana Hotel. When Letty arrived, she had to admit he was right this time. The three-story, solidly-built building looked like a real hotel, not like the rickety Hotel Grande in Gorgona. Owned and run by Americans, it had rooms with walls that went to the ceiling, a comfortable lobby and a restaurant. Many from the pack train were staying there. When Letty checked in, she asked the American clerk behind the counter about the hordes of gold seekers outside.

  “What a sad lot,” he replied. “They’ve run out of money. Most have just enough left to pay for their passage to California. Trouble is, there’s no ship to be had.”

  Suddenly anxious, she inquired, “Isn’t the Panama due soon?”

  “No telling when the ship will get here, if it’s coming at all. You’ve got tickets?”

  “For my maid and me.”

  The clerk cast a wary glance toward the street. “There are those who’d kill to get to California. If I were you, ma’am, I’d guard those tickets with my life.”

  Compared to their accommodations in Gorgona, the room in the Americana Hotel was sheer luxury. No lizard on the wall. A real bath. Letty lingered long in the tin tub. She hadn’t felt this clean since she sailed out of Boston Harbor. How wonderful to wash away the jungle grime, to wash her hair, feel its squeaky cleanness and see it shine. Elfreda sent her clothes out for laundering. When they were returned, ironed and neatly folded, Letty decided she’d go for a walk and selected her prettiest dress, her rosebud calico, to wear. She picked up her beaded reticule. Not that she was going anywhere special, she just felt so good to know she looked her best. She disliked going out bare-headed, but her one-and-only bonnet, the brown silk, had somehow fallen from her packhorse and must now be disintegrating in the mud somewhere. She’d make do, though, and piled her hair in a stylish bun atop her head.

  When she left, Elfreda, exhausted from the journey, was sound asleep and snoring gently. No need to disturb her. Letty quietly slipped from the room. She would take a short stroll but not very far. She’d stay close to the hotel. She was walking down the hallway when her heart jumped. Garth was coming toward her. She assumed he didn’t want to talk, but no way could she avoid him.

  As he came close, his eyes lit in recognition. “Ah, Miss Tinsley. I didn’t know you were staying here.”

  “You were supposed to call me Letty.”

  “Letty, then.” His voice sounded flat with defeat, minus that trace of overbearing confidence she’d found so annoying.

  What should she say next? The subject of Honoria’s death loomed large, much too overwhelming to be ignored. “About Honoria, I already told you how sorry I am, but—”

  “You saw what happened?”

  “All of it. Such an awful thing. I can only imagine how terrible you must feel.”

  “Thank you. How very kind.”

  Those were the same words he’d used the other day—polite, cover-up words meant to lead her to the conclusion he was perfectly fine, taking the tragic event in his stride. Yet he obviously wasn’t. She couldn’t mistake the unspoken pain that lingered in his voice and deep in his eyes. “Is there is anything I can do?”

  His gaze swept over her, and he frowned. “You’re not going out, are you?”

  “I thought I’d take a little stroll.”

  “Not a good idea. The streets aren’t safe. There’re thousands of men out there who’d sell their souls to get on a ship to California. There are thousands more going the other way. Some are winners, hauling their gold home, but most are losers, dead broke and bitter because they didn’t find gold. Either way, many are in a foul mood and looking for trouble.”

  “Well, then…” She shrugged with disappointment. “Guess I’d better not go out.”

  After a long pause, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “You’ll be safe with me. Come, let’s take a stroll, and I’ll show you the delights of Panama City.”

  * * * *

  Garth was joking. The pesthole that was Panama City held little in the way of delights. In his current, dark mood, he hadn’t planned to go out, if for no other reason than he’d make rotten company. And no wonder. Honoria’s death had not only cast him into a state of grief and despair, it had undermined his belief in himself, had damaged and perhaps destroyed his confidence that he could handle whatever situation arose. Since that moment the crocodile shot out of the lagoon, he could hardly eat or sleep. Constant questions tortured his mind. When Honoria headed for the water, why hadn’t he stopped her? Why did he freeze like a statue, unable to move?

  Mathew kept trying to reason with him. “But what could you have done?” he asked more than once. “That crocodile was at least ten feet long. Did you think you could wrestle with him and win?”

  No, of course not, but he couldn’t be bothered with logic, not when his childhood friend had ended up in a jungle creature’s stomach. Good God. Every time he thought of Honoria’s gruesome death, a cold knot formed in his belly. Unending remorse stabbed at his heart. Why had he agreed to accompany her in the first place, knowing how dangerous the Isthmus was? Why hadn’t he stopped her before she got to the water’s edge?

  He’d laughed when Mother predicted a “momentously awful something” was bound to happen in his life. No way could he, the invincible Garth Morgan, be in less than complete control o
f his destiny. Turns out, she was right, perhaps more than she realized. Not only had that momentously awful something really happened, it had knocked the conceit and arrogance right out of him. He hadn’t had a peaceful moment until just now, when he’d seen Miss Letty Tinsley standing in the hallway wearing that dress with the roses, those little wispy curls framing her pretty face. Just the sight of her made him forget, if only for a moment, the lagoon, Honoria and the crocodile. He’d surprised himself when he proposed they go for a stroll. In the guilt-ridden state he was in, he had no intention of engaging in anything that might be considered enjoyment. But still…

  Panama City was a dangerous place. She absolutely could not walk the streets alone. She’d be safe with him, though. He’d see to that.

  They left the hotel and crossed the large plaza in front. Strolling through the narrow streets that were none too clean, they passed native vendors selling everything from tropical fruit and cheap trinkets to ribbons, knives and cattle entrails. While they walked, they made the lightest of conversation, staying away from that dark subject utmost in their minds but not to be addressed. From the main part of the city, they strolled to the beach. He’d thought they might walk to the water’s edge, but gold seekers overran the narrow strip of sand, most of them grubby and unshaven, in filthy shirts and muddy pants. They seemed to have little to do but quarrel, exchange rumors, and spend their days staring out at the empty ocean, looking for ships that never came. He’d better not risk the beach.

  Seeing the crowded sand, Letty frowned with concern. “There are far too many for one ship. What will happen when the Panama arrives?”