Gold Rush Bride

by Shirley Kennedy

  Mathew still sat on the tree stump. She called, “I found a paintbrush that must have belonged to Charles.”

  “Not much left, I suppose.”

  He didn’t sound the least pleased or excited for her, but then, he hadn’t been that close to Charles, not like she was. As for the map, she hadn’t yet mentioned it, although she’d certainly planned to. One of the main reasons she came up here was to see if she could find that rich vein of gold he called Montezuma, but so far, she couldn’t bring herself to pull that map from her boot and show it to Mathew. She wasn’t sure why she’d kept quiet, other than an undefinable something in Mathew’s attitude that gave her a sense of uneasiness. He didn’t know the map existed, so why should she show it to him? Now that she knew where Charles’s claim was located, she could come back another time with somebody else. She nodded to herself. Yes, that’s what she’d do. She called to Mathew, “I just want to look around a few minutes more, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  He stood abruptly. “What about the map?”

  Her mind refused to register the significance of his words. “What map?”

  He walked to where she was standing. “You know the one I mean.” His gaze boldly focused on the front of her shirt. “You used to keep it pinned in your bodice. Obviously you can’t do that now, so where is it?”

  A gentleman never discussed such things as a lady’s garments, and certainly not in such a harsh tone of voice. “That’s a rude question, Mathew. I’m surprised at you.”

  He stared at her, then burst into a laugh that held no humor and seemed to hold an edge of scorn. He ceased laughing abruptly and gazed at her with eyes that had become flat and as unreadable as stone. “I surprise you?”

  Where was the meek, soft-spoken Mathew Hastings she’d known? “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He stepped closer. “Before he disappeared, your brother found a rich vein of gold that he called the Montezuma. Garth told me you have the map he’d drawn of the place. You must have brought it with you.” He stepped closer still, almost in her face, so close she could see a vein throbbing in his neck. “Where is it?”

  “Mathew, please. What are you doing?” She thrust her arm out and laid a restraining palm against his chest.

  “What am I doing?” He shoved her hand aside. His lips curved into a mocking smile that made her skin crawl. “I want that map.”

  “Charles found that vein of gold. You had no part in it, so what makes you think it’s yours?”

  “Because I deserve it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “All you need know is I’ve been kicked around since the day I was born, and I’ve had enough. Montezuma is mine, and you’re going to help me find it.”

  The lack of emotion in his voice sent a chill warning down her spine. This man who’d always seemed so mild-mannered, so content with his life, was anything but, and she’d better watch what she said. “So this is all because you had a bad childhood? I’m sorry about the orphanage and the captain who flogged you, but that was a long time ago. I’ve seen for myself how good Mr. Morgan has been good to you.”

  A cold, resentful expression settled on his face. “You think I should be grateful? He never treated me as an equal. For years it’s been first class for him, second for me. He treats me not much better than slave. I’ve hated every moment I’ve had to bow down and cater to the likes of the great Garth Morgan. Well, it’s over. Now it’s my turn. Where is it?”

  “I… I…” She couldn’t speak. Goose flesh rippled up her back.

  His gaze softened. She could hardly keep from flinching as he reached with the back of his hand and laid it gently on her cheek. “Ah, Letty… I could have loved you, if only you’d let me. Each time you were in his arms, I knew, and I wanted to kill him.”

  Mathew as her lover? How repulsive. What a horrible thought. She shoved his hand away. “Then why are you doing this? It’s not too late. If you care for me at all, you’ll stop this nonsense right now. We’ll go back to Empire, and I promise you I won’t say a word.”

  He shook his head as if genuinely concerned. “It’s too late for that, I’m afraid. I must have the map, Letty. Will you give it to me, or must I get it myself?”

  She’d hoped Mathew would come to his senses, but in a shocking moment of clarity, she realized he’d turned into a mad man, and any further attempts to reason with him would fall on deaf ears. All she could do was try to keep her wits about her and look for a way to escape. Not much chance of that, though. He might be a small man, hardly taller than she, but he was a man, nonetheless, and therefore much stronger. Besides that, he had a gun. She wouldn’t have a chance against him, and she’d better stay calm and go along with whatever he said. “The map is in my boot.”

  “Get it.”

  She sat on the tree stump, removed her boot and pulled out the map. Mathew grabbed it out of her hand. Without a word, he eagerly unfolded the creased page and gazed at its contents. “An arrow, a bluebird, an ‘X’? What nonsense is this?”

  Letty didn’t want to answer, but refusing to help would get her nowhere. She cleared her throat and steadied herself. She would act friendly and cooperate, at least for now. “I imagine Charles meant them to be signs of some sort that lead to the new site he found. The arrow’s first. I’m thinking he left some form of an arrow around the campground, maybe carved in a tree. Why don’t we look around?”

  Mathew nodded in silent agreement. Map in hand, he started walking around the campsite. Now was her chance to bolt and run. She breathed deep, teetering on the verge of making her escape but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Chances were he’d catch her. Not only that, he had her brother’s map—her map now—and she was loathe to let him have it. She, too, would look for the arrow. “I’ll look on this side,” she called, making her voice sound friendly, as if nothing had happened. As if she didn’t fear for her life.

  Clusters of tall Ponderosa pines surrounded the camp, intermixed with aspens and white alders. If Charles had carved an arrow in a tree, he wouldn’t have chosen a Ponderosa because the bark was too rough. Likely he’d have done his carving in a smoother-barked aspen. She walked the campsite until she spotted a tall aspen on the far northern edge. If Charles had carved an arrow, it would likely be at chest height. She started a slow circle around the tree. Sure enough, there it was, deeply carved at chest height. An inch wide and only a few inches long, it pointed toward a thick growth of bushes and trees to the north. Should she tell Mathew? Everything in her rebelled at the thought. Yet, if she didn’t, he’d have no further use for her, and who knew what would happen then? “I found it, Mathew.”

  He hurried over and took a look. “It’s an arrow, all right, pointing directly north.” He took a long look northward. “I went over that way once. It’s rugged territory. Big boulders and deep ravines. Treacherous. There’s another stream, as I recall.”

  “Perhaps we should save such a treacherous hike for another day.” She doubted he’d agree, but what did she have to lose?

  He smirked and answered, “We’ll go now.”

  That icy gleam in his eye told her she must remain calm, stay friendly. “All right, if you say so.”

  He consulted the map. “Looks like the bluebird is next. What do you think?”

  “I think we should look for a bluebird of some sort, but I’ve no idea what.”

  In a mocking gesture, Mathew half bowed and made a sweeping gesture toward the north. “Do lead the way.” His voice brimmed with sarcasm.

  She had thought she knew Mathew Hastings well, had judged him by his bland looks and fawning manner. How chilling to realize she hadn’t known him at all. With Mathew close behind, she started out, heading straight north. Crossing a fairly steep slope, she found a faint trail which soon leveled out and led her to a stand of tall pines and furs. She kept going straight, past large boulders and thick growths of ferns. At another time, she would have paused to admire t
heir rich green beauty but not today, not when sick fear was building in the pit of her stomach. She was about to pass an especially large boulder when she caught sight of a splotch of blue near the top. Maybe she could just press on and pretend she hadn’t seen a thing.

  “There’s the mark,” Mathew called.

  Too late. She stopped, took a closer look, and could barely make out a small painting of a blue bird. Faded though it was, she recognized Charles’s distinctive style.

  A small arrow underneath the painting pointed downward at a slant to the right. Mathew gestured in that direction, an eager gleam in his eye. “Looks like we go down now.”

  She asked, “Why don’t you lead the way?”

  “You think I don’t know what you’re thinking? You go first so I can keep an eye on you.”

  A wave of panic tore through her. He’d throw caution to the winds, must know if she got back to Empire, he’d have no hope she wouldn’t immediately report his shocking behavior. That meant he might be going to kill her right here, right now. She’d already decided against running, but maybe she should. She may not have many more chances to get away, but how could she escape in this steep, rugged terrain? She wouldn’t have a chance. Surely he’d catch her. The best she could do was stay calm and hope for some sort of miracle. “All right, we’ll keep going.” She didn’t bother with a smile now. No more pretense. They started downhill in the direction of the arrow. She saw no path, but soon they reached the start of a deep ravine. A good-sized stream littered with rocks and boulders flowed along the bottom. Still ahead, she called back to Mathew, “It’s much too steep and rocky. I don’t think we can go any farther.”

  “Oh, we’ll get there all right. Keep going.” He gave her a prod in the middle of her back, causing her to stumble forward.

  At least she knew for certain where she stood now. Mathew had allowed the last vestige of his pretense of politeness to fall away. Considering the rough way he was treating her, she’d never get back to town to tell the truth about him. She started hiking through the steep-sided ravine, hopping over rocks, trying not to slip and fall. At times the ravine widened enough that they could walk alongside the stream on solid ground. Sometimes the walls closed in, and they had to wade through the rushing water. Thank God she was wearing poor Mr. Del Vechio’s waterproof boots. So far, they’d kept her feet dry. She hadn’t gone far before she came to a huge boulder sitting in the middle of the stream. Growing closer, she saw an unusual black spot high up, something small and black. Closer still, she observed an ‘X’ painted in black. Mathew followed directly behind. He stepped up, pushed her aside and gazed at the small mark. “By God, ‘X’ marks the spot,” he excitedly called. He splashed through the water to the boulder and gazed downward. “Look! Look!”

  She waded to where the water split and flowed on either side of the boulder. Peering through the crystal clear surface, she could see to the bottom, a distance of about two feet. Instantly a flash of gold caught her eye. A nugget. A big one, and then another, and another. For a moment, she almost forgot her grim circumstances. “It’s gold all right. There must be dozens of nuggets. Look how they’re piled against the boulder.”

  “Wait.” Mathew’s eyes went wide. He plunged his hand straight down, brought something up and held it high. “Aha!” His voice rang with glee.

  Letty didn’t know much about gold nuggets, but the one Mathew held was huge—at least seven inches long, maybe eight, and all solid, gleaming gold. “It looks pretty big.”

  “Big?” Mathew looked as if he could dance right out of his skin. He lowered his arm and took a closer look. “This is solid gold crystalline, the best quality there is. Most nuggets you find in a stream are river-worn, but this one looks like it just came out of the ground. That means the source can’t be too far from here.” A delighted smile lit his face. “It’s worth thousands. Do you know what this means?”

  “It means you’re a thief if you take that nugget. This is my brother’s claim. You have no right—”

  “You think I care about rights?” Calmer now, Mathew slipped the nugget into his knapsack. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m going back to town, but you”—he clasped her arm—“will be staying here.”

  She pulled her arm away, a gush of fear welling within her. “No!”

  He laid his hand over his holster. “Up the hill, or I’ll kill you right here.”

  No use arguing. She’d caught only a glimpse of the real Mathew Hastings but enough to know further pleading would be useless. For years, he’d suppressed his venomous hatred. Now that it had finally erupted, nothing on this earth would hold him back. With dragging feet, she started back upstream and soon found a spot where she could scramble up the side of the ravine. At the top, she found herself in a thick grove of pine trees and stopped to catch her breath. “Where to now?”

  Mathew drew his gun and aimed at her heart. “You’re going nowhere.”

  Now that he’d found the gold, he was going to kill her. She could beg for her life, but why waste her breath? Nothing she could say would dissuade him. She looked high up to the tops of the pine trees where rays of sunshine filtered softly through the intertwined branches. So beautiful, her last glimpse of the beauty of this earth. Tears filled her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, though. She would die bravely, even though no one would know.

  A loud click broke the stillness. Mathew had pulled the trigger guard back. Almost over. She said a short prayer, her last on this earth, and squeezed her eyes shut. Mother. I want my mother. She waited. Nothing happened. Seconds went by and nothing. She opened her eyes to see Mathew’s hand shaking and the gun barrel wavering back and forth. Sweat covered his forehead. She looked him in the eye. “You can’t kill me, can you?”

  Mathew continued to aim the gun at her, but it kept wavering. Finally, he lowered his hand slightly but kept the gun pointed at her. “Take off your knapsack. Get over by that tree and sit down.”

  Her heart madly pounding, she walked to a large alder, placed her back against the trunk and slid to a sitting position. “Is this what you want?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. Breathing heavily, he opened his knapsack and pulled out a piece of rope. “Arms behind you.”

  She did as she was told. “What are you doing?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.

  He walked behind the tree and pulled her arms tight behind her. Oh, no, he was tying her hands together. “Mathew, you can’t do this.”

  No reply. She felt a final jerk, as if he’d finished with whatever knot he’d tied. She tried to move her hands but couldn’t budge them. He came round the tree, picked up both knapsacks and started away.

  Dumbfounded, she called after him, “You were too cowardly to kill me, so now you’re just going to leave me here?”

  He stopped and turned. “Good-bye, Letty. I won’t be back anytime soon.” His mouth twisted into a nasty smile. “By the way, just so you’ll know, your brother is dead.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I killed him myself.”

  He left again, disappeared into the trees, and this time didn’t come back.

  Chapter 21

  When Garth arrived in Empire, he rode straight to Mrs. Del Vechio’s boarding house. He found the cantankerous landlady sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, a pinch of Copenhagen in her fingers. “Hello, Laura, still got the habit I see.”

  She rose to greet him. “Why, Garth Morgan, you old son of a gun! Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”

  He climbed up the porch steps and gave her a hug. “Been busy.”

  “Too busy for your old friends now you’ve got that fancy hotel in San Francisco?” She motioned to another rocking chair. “Set down. What’s going on?” She gave him an inquisitive look. “There’s something on your mind, Garth. I can tell from the look on your face you’re worried about something. So tell me.”

  Laura Del Vechio might not be the
most educated person in the world, but she was born smart and had an uncanny way of getting past all pretense to the heart of things. “I’m looking for Letty Tinsley. She’s still staying here?”

  “Yep, she sure is, Garth. She’s not here right now, though. Did you know she’s singing over to Phineas Strauss’s Egyptian Theater?”

  “Letty?” His jaw nearly dropped open.

  “Yep, Letty. She was running out of money looking for her brother up here. Phineas is paying her plenty. With that voice of hers, she packs ’em in every night.”

  How could he forget that night on the ship when she played the piano and sang? Everyone loved her, including Phineas. “So is that where she is now? The theater?”

  “Not right now. She’s gone off with that creep, Mathew Hastings. Excuse me”—she wrinkled her nose—“I know he’s your employee, but I don’t like him.”

  Blood started pounding in his temples as he absorbed the news. “Do you know where they went?”

  “Up to see her brother’s claim. You’re looking mighty strange. Is everything all right?”

  “No.” He closed his eyes a moment, getting past the shock that just hit him in the belly. “Everything’s not all right.”

  “My Lord, Garth, what do you mean? Are you worried because she’s with Mathew?”

  “Yes.” He sprang from his chair. “When did they leave?”

  “Early this morning. Letty said they’d be back by tonight, but I seen him bring bedrolls along, so who knows?” She bit her lip with concern. “Dang it, you’ve got to do something. Letty’s special. Everybody loves her here.”

  “Yes, she’s very special.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but she talked about you once. Didn’t say much, but I could tell you’d broken her heart.”

  Lillian. What had she said? But he didn’t have time for that now. “I’m going after them.”