Sourdough Creek Page 17

  Ashes, who’d been curled up next to Josephine, came down off the bed in one long, easy stretch. She rubbed up against Cassie’s thigh, mewing. In a single motion, Cassie scooped her up and rolled around so her back was against the bed and her knees were pulled to her chest. She cuddled the cat.

  “You’ve come a long way with the two of us, haven’t you?” Ashes began to purr. “You’re a good friend. Please watch over Josephine just like you did with Sam.”

  The cat’s whiskers tickled Cassie’s face. Her purring seemed louder than usual, vibrating her whole body as she massaged forward and back with her paws, her claws slipping in and out of Cassie’s nightshirt, snagging the fabric and catching her skin.

  “Ouch.”

  “What’re you doin’?”

  Turning, she saw Josephine looking down over the side of the bed. “Did I wake you?”

  Josephine nodded. “But I don’t mind. Are you talking to Ashes?”

  Cassie smiled and nodded. “Yes, I guess I am.” She handed her up to Josephine. Rising off the floor, Cassie sat on the bed next to her sister, who was making an indentation in the quilt for the cat to lie in.

  “You’re going in the morning.”

  The statement was an arrow to Cassie’s heart. “Yes, we are. I want to talk to you about that.”

  Josephine’s little hand glided gently over Ashes’ head and all the way down her back, to the tip of her tail. The cat’s contented eyes were just slits in her face. Josephine never took her attention off her beloved pet as Cassie felt her heart tear in two.

  “When I promised Ma I’d watch out for you, take care of you, I meant what I said. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine circumstances would arise that would warrant that I leave you behind.”

  Cassie lay down and pulled Josephine into her embrace. Her gaze rested on the slatted beams criss-crossing the pinewood ceiling. They stayed like that quietly, just cuddling. After several minutes, Cassie felt her sister’s chest rise and fall with a deep breath.

  “Cassie?”

  “Yes?”

  “I miss Ma. I don’t tell you because I know it will just make you feel sad, but every night I cry for her in my mind, before I fall asleep. I miss Pa, too.”

  Sorrow stabbed inside her chest. She reached for Josephine’s hand. “I know what you mean, honey. I miss them, too. I had them a lot longer in my life than you did.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll forget about them.” Josephine had rolled to her elbow and was looking down into Cassie’s face, the weight of the world reflected in her eyes. “What if I do?”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen, silly. I won’t let you forget because I’m going to keep telling you about all the good times we had together. How much Ma and Pa loved you, and cared for you. How much they loved each other. And God won’t let you forget them either. He’s put their love in your heart to remind you. Always.”

  Josephine snuggled back down onto her arms. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  She felt Josephine nod her head sleepily.

  “About my promise…”

  Josephine’s arm was slung across Cassie’s body and her fingers gently played with her big sister’s hair. “I know you think all this leaving is for the best.” Josephine yawned, her other hand feeling around for the sleeping cat. “It’s okay. I let you out of the promise.”

  Cassie bit the inside of her cheek, gazing up at the knotholes dimly visible in the amber light. Only for now. She was only breaking the promise for one month.

  “How come you’re so much older than me?” Josephine’s voice was low now and she knew her little sister would be falling asleep any moment.

  Fragments of the past shuddered through Cassie’s mind, bringing sharp stings of grief. Her mama struggling to survive. Her mama kneeling at a tiny graveside. Then another. And another. Her mother’s face looking as if it were chiseled from marble, her body thin as a reed. And finally, her mama too weak to fight off influenza, dying.

  “Because our mama lost three babies in between you and me. Do you remember us talking about that?”

  Josephine nodded.

  Cassie smiled and hugged her closer. “Three boys. Ezra, Winston…”

  “And Chester. Where are they now? I mean, their bodies?”

  “Back in Colorado. That’s one of the reasons Ma was excited when Pa told her he wanted to come to Nevada. That he’d found a place that needed strong laborers. She wanted to start fresh, without the sad memories. She told me once that she didn’t want her girls—that’s you, you know,” Cassie said, nudging Josephine to make sure she was listening, “to have a sad mama, but a happy one. One that liked to make dresses, have tea parties and bake cakes. One that laughed, and smiled, and gave kisses all day long.” Cassie hesitated. She wanted Josephine to remember the good parts, not the hard times. “She told me to laugh every day, no matter how I feel inside. She believed that life was too short to be sad or unhappy. Do you remember us doing any of those things?” She felt no guilt painting a pretty picture for Josephine, planting the seed that Ma and Pa had a storybook relationship. Cassie knew Pa was a big disappointment to Ma, but her innocent little sister didn’t have to know. Sam popped into her thoughts.

  Her heart lurched. How could he have done that to me? Marry me for the claim.

  “Some,” Josephine answered softly. “I think. She and Pa are with our brothers now, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ten minutes passed. Cassie was sure Josephine had long since fallen asleep. She wished she could too.

  “I’ll bet they’re all really, really happy.” Josephine’s voice was little more than a whisper and Cassie was surprised that she was even still awake thinking about it.

  Cassie kissed the top of her sister’s soft blonde head. “I’m sure they are. Now, go to sleep, sleepyhead, before morning is here and you have to get up.” Cassie traced a little cross on her forehead with her finger.

  Josephine would be all right, wouldn’t she? What would happen if they didn’t win the claim contest and she came away empty-handed? What then?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sourdough Creek, Coloma, California

  “Well, Cassie, what do you make of her?” Arvid asked. “Isn’t she just the prettiest sight you ever did see?”

  The two of them sat their horses at the edge of a bluff. Cassie looked down to the river below. She was sore and tired, and more than ready to be finished with this trip. It had taken a few days longer than expected as the weather, turning blustery, had let loose a deluge. After the first onslaught, the rain had eased into a soft, shimmering veil, causing the following days to be a sloppy, soggy mess. It had cleared and hopefully would stay that way for a while.

  “Aaahhh…choooo!” Cassie blew her nose on the handkerchief she kept in the gullet of her saddle, and then stuffed it back next to her horse’s withers. Her slicker had kept most of the rain off, but when she looked down, reaching for the canteen looped over her saddle horn, a rivulet of water poured off her hat, down the slicker, and directly into her right boot. She stifled a groan.

  What she wouldn’t give right now for a hot bath and steaming cup of tea! But the work was just beginning. There would be time later for comfy chairs, goose-down quilts, crackling fires, and hot stew. Right now she had a contest to win.

  Sam, who’d been trailing them a good ways back, reined up alongside her, the creaking of his saddle and a morning dove’s call off in the distance, the only sounds. She wasn’t talking to him much anymore. He’d become quiet over the past days too, speaking only if Uncle Arvid asked him a question. Probably embarrassed for what he’d tried to pull. He’d ridden last in line, bringing up the rear and leading Split Ear with a long rope.

  With each mile she relived every moment they’d shared since meeting back in Broken Branch. It played over and over in her head and she berated herself for her foolishness. He’d hoodwinked her, plain and simple. Her imagination over the kiss had run
away with her, and she vowed not to make the same mistake again.

  “Hungry?” Sam asked from a few feet away.

  She shrugged. She’d not tell him her stomach was turning in on itself. “Not bad, actually.” A quick glance found him watching her. “I’ve been eating jerky.” She held up a soggy strip of meat for him to see.

  “Well, I’m damn starved,” Arvid barked out grouchily. He stood up in his stirrups, stretching his legs. “Never have cared for camp cookin’. And you, girl, have a lot to learn.”

  Cassie tried to ignore the hurt as she took in the panoramic view of the California wilderness. The river came down through the valley in twists and turns. It was rimmed by hills on both sides that grew larger the farther out they went. To the west was a majestic mountain range.

  A little quiver niggled up Cassie’s spine, reminding her of the time the mountain lion had awakened her in the dark of the night. The feeling of knowing something was wrong before it became clear. She shook it off and continued to admire the loveliness in every direction. Statuesque oaks, silvery-green water crashing over rocks, treacherous but lush-looking poison oak, with its lacy, ginger-colored leaves moving in the breeze. Plus, in the valley, a carroty carpet of poppies as far as the eye could see. Still, as beautiful as it was, it was also more desolate than she’d ever imagined.

  In Hangtown, they’d filed the needed papers, including the officially signed and sealed agreement concerning their state of affairs with the claim. They’d stayed over one final, glorious night in the Berry House, to enjoy a hot bath, a sumptuous supper, and the comforts of a warm bed one last time before coming out to the Sourdough. Without a doubt, this was going to be an exceptionally long month.

  On their way out of town, they’d seen miners of every age, squatting at the river’s edge, their suspicious eyes watching them pass. Chinese immigrants were everywhere. Families, with children filthy from head to toe, looked as if they’d not bathed in a month of Sundays. As the road narrowed to a single lane, and then a pebble-strewn trail dotted with deer droppings, they saw fewer and fewer people. Soon there wasn’t a soul to be found.

  “Cassie, you listening to me?” Arvid asked impatiently. He’d swung around in the saddle and glared at her. “Always off somewhere daydreaming about something. Well, it better not be that claim-stealing cowboy sitting by your side. That marriage was bogus, and I’d never have allowed it. You best remember that. Now, I asked if you liked the river!”

  “Yes, it’s pretty,” she managed to get out in a semi-civil tone. A flash of irritation at Arvid’s condescending attitude flickered through her, but she was too tired to stand up to him now. Let him know he couldn’t get away with treating her that way, uncle or not. What was even more maddening, and galled her to all get out, was that Sam continually occupied her thoughts. Was she the weakest woman in the world? Would it take a sharp blow to her noggin to knock some sense into her? From the corner of her eye she could see Sam, his forearms crossed over his saddle horn as he inspected the river below.

  Her mother had been right. From now on she’d not depend on any man – or any men – uncle or love. Her strong back would deliver her and Josephine’s bakery. When a cold blast almost blew her hat off, Cassie reached up quickly to keep it from flying away. Was she kidding herself? Could she actually make their dream come true? Or was it just that—a dream?

  “Good. Because I don’t like repeating myself. Today we set up our camps. Tomorrow the mining begins. We’ll pitch our tent over there on the sandy part of the west bank by the manzanita. It looks like easy access for firewood and has bushes for our private needs.” He laughed when Cassie turned away. “Don’t go getting all delicate on me now,” he added unpleasantly.

  He reined his horse to start down the fifty-foot hill.

  “That’s too close to the river,” Sam said forcefully.

  Arvid pulled up. “Pitch your tent anywhere you like, Ridgeway. You didn’t hear me inviting you, did you? There’s a lot of land between our markers from there,” he pointed west, “to there,” he pointed east.

  “I know the boundaries. I’m just saying where you want to make your camp is unsafe. I don’t like it.”

  “Well, you don’t have to like it. If we get washed away the claim will be all yours. Haaw,” he shouted, booting his horse in the ribs and proceeding down the steep embankment.

  Cassie was too tired and too wet to make a fuss about anything with anyone. She just wanted to get unpacked and the horses staked out so she could get a fire going. Warmth to her bitterly cold bones was all she could think about.

  Turning, she followed Arvid down the side of the bluff. She leaned back in the saddle and gave Meadowlark her head as she slid down. The mare sat back on her haunches. It was slick and Meadowlark slipped, almost catching her nose on the ground before recovering her footing.

  “Come on, slowpoke,” Arvid yelled. “Over this way.”

  Arvid had dismounted and was walking around a level area, inspecting it. “This is the spot.” He went over and uncinched his horse’s saddle after pulling off his bedroll. He removed the bridle, then haltered the gelding and tied him to a tree. “When you get your horse unsaddled, take mine out with yours.” He pointed to several big rocks. “Those will make good stones for the fire; be sure to gather them up.”

  Still at the top of the bluff, Sam watched. As usual, Arvid barked out orders faster than Cassie could comply. She took her tent and bedroll and hauled them over close to the hill, out of his line of sight. Next, she took the two horses twenty feet into a small meadow east of their camp and hobbled them, leaving them to graze.

  Being with Cassie these last few days had been hell. They’d lost so much. And yet, her feelings were written all over face every time he came close. She didn’t trust him anymore. He’d hurt her badly, and he doubted it was something that could be repaired in the days ahead, if ever.

  Discouraged, Sam clucked softly to Blu and gave her plenty of rein. They started down the embankment, with Split Ear following a few feet behind. They slipped and slid until they were safely at the bottom. The only access to where he wanted to make camp across the river was through the area where the two were setting up theirs.

  “This ain’t Main Street,” Arvid complained as Sam rode through their camp and into the meadow where the two horses grazed. He ignored the man and continued through a dry bed of rocks to the riverbank where it widened out and looked shallow. Blu and Split Ear picked their way across the cold water to the opposite side. Sam went through the meadow of flowers a good hundred feet, across an outcrop of shale and up onto a plateau with some open space. There was also a dense growth of manzanita before a big stand of trees.

  “Whoa.” Sam looked around and dismounted. He unloaded the supplies and put the horses out to graze. He gathered as much dry wood as he could find and picked out some round stones for his campfire. Pitching his tent under some trees, he rolled out his bedroll, which had stayed surprisingly dry, and arranged the few personal things he’d brought with him inside his tent.

  Later, he’d take the mining supplies over to the Angels’ camp after he’d unpacked his coffee pot and utensils, made a fire, and put on some water to boil. He’d toss in a few strips of jerky and a potato or two, in case Cassie didn’t have anything handy. She looked plum worn out, and he wished she’d accept a little help from him.

  When he finished, and the so-called miners’ stew was bubbling softly in a pot over the flames, he hefted the pack containing two gold pans, a few glass vials for the gold, a hammer and nails, and a pair of lady-sized gloves he’d picked up in town in case Cassie found she couldn’t take the ice-cold temperature of the spring runoff. He’d also bought a Derringer and intended to give the last two items to her tonight—and was not going to take no for an answer.

  He slung the heavy pack across his back, and with his other hand grabbed the two picks they’d brought along. He set out toward the other camp.

  At the crossing, there were several large rocks and
with carefully placed steps, he was able to get across without getting wet. He arrived in their camp only to find it deserted. “Hello?” He set the pack down and looked around. “Cassie? Arvid?”

  It had taken him a good hour to get his place set up, and now he wondered where the two of them had gone. Their tents were pitched close to the overhang, separated by fifteen feet. A tiny campfire crackled nearby.

  He looked up river and spotted Arvid along the bank, gazing down into the water. Where had Cassie gone off to? Feeling uneasy, he walked toward her tent.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Cassie?” Sam said again softly, realizing she must have fallen asleep. It was no wonder. Arvid worked her hard. He stepped closer to the tent’s opening. “You in there?”

  He waited a few moments, wanting to give her ample time to respond if indeed she was. He pulled the flap back. As he’d thought, Cassie lay rolled in a blanket on top of her bedroll. Her hands were pillowed under her face and her knees were drawn up. Her clothes hung off a jury-rigged peg of sorts—her attempt at drying them.

  As he slowly backed away he picked up her breeches and shirt. Gathering some sturdy branches, he took the hammer and nails and made a makeshift rack for drying her clothes. He searched out some dry wood, enough to last a few days, and got a big blaze going. Within the hour he had things looking the way he’d wanted.

  Arvid came into camp and stopped short when he saw Sam. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Come on, Arvid. We may not like each other, but I think we have no other choice but to band together when we aren’t panning. Cassie is worn out. She needs help. If she doesn’t get some rest she’s going to get sicker than she already is.”

  “I helped her pitch the tents,” he retorted angrily. “Who’re you to be telling me about how to care for my own niece?”