Sourdough Creek Page 18

  Sam controlled his temper and kept his voice low. “In case you’ve forgotten, Arvid, this claim is mine. We both know it. I’m being amenable only because of Cassie. I didn’t want to kill her only living male relative in case just maybe you might be some kind of help to her.”

  “Oh, you’re some big talker. I’m shaking in my boots.”

  Sam took a step toward him. “You better be.” He pointed a finger in Arvid’s face. “I’ll be watching you. I’ll know if you pick a hair from your nose.” Frustrated, he pitched the hammer aside. “And, let’s not forget Cassie is my wife!”

  Arvid laughed. “That confusion is done. The old preacher said it was the first thing he’d do.”

  Sam glared, knowing Arvid spoke the truth. He wished it were otherwise. William had said the licenses were numbered, and that he couldn’t just rip it up. At Cassie’s insistence he had promised to file the proper cancellation papers the following week.

  “What’s going on out here?”

  Cassie stepped from her tent dressed in the new set of clothes they’d purchased in Hangtown. The warm breeze ruffled her hair and the untucked tails of her shirt. Except for the redness under her nose, her skin was flawless in the early evening light. When she noticed the clothes drying on the rack, the blazing fire, and the stack of wood her cheeks blossomed pink, making him pleased he’d taken the time to help her.

  “Just discussing things,” Sam replied, trying not to stare. He’d been a darn fool not to acknowledge his feelings for her sooner, before things had become so complicated. Before her uncle showed up, poisoning her against him.

  “Things? What things?”

  She glanced from him to Arvid.

  “Uncle?”

  “Nothin’.”

  She shrugged yet again, a reaction he’d never get used to seeing. He clamped down the prickly irritation that rolled in his belly. With Arvid, she was always on the losing end. Her uncle was breaking her spirit, one snide comment at a time. “Okay then, I’m going to the river to get some water to make supper with.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “I brought you some over there.”

  She gave him a long look. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Sam.” She placed her hands on her hips trying to look stern, but it only accentuated her small waist. “But, I thank you all the same.”

  He raised both his brows. “Welcome.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of getting water, or anything else we may need.” She took her shirttail in hand and gave it a good shake, so he’d look at the oversized man’s shirt she was wearing. “Just think of me as Cassidy. Remember those days?”

  She went to the bucket Sam had left by the fire and a nice feeling of accomplishment snaked through him as she set about gathering supplies.I surprised her. “Tomorrow I plan to go hunting. Early morning,” he said. “There’s deer scat everywhere.”

  Cassie rummaged through the food and pulled out a sack of flour and a small canister of sugar. “That’s a good idea. Tonight I’ll make some sweet biscuits.”

  “I have a pot of watery stew simmering over on my side of the river. It’s not fancy, by any means.” He couldn’t help but smile at how that sounded as he went over and tested the dryness of Cassie’s clothes. “It should be done by now. I’ll go get it.” He hitched his head, “These are done, too.”

  She went over and took them off the rack, and moved the contraption away from the flames. “Thank you,” she said again a bit brusquely.

  “Welcome.”

  Arvid rolled his eyes and went into his tent.

  Sam stepped closer. “I have something I want to give you.”

  She looked up from the mixing bowl she’d picked up, a spoon in one hand and a puff of white flour on her cheek.

  He pulled the Derringer from the pack of other mining tools and held it out to her. The gun was no bigger than a small bird. She just looked at it.

  “I have my Colt, Sam. I don’t need that.”

  “Yes, you do. To keep on you at all times.”

  “You’re being overly cautious.”

  “Not so. Your Colt is too cumbersome to carry while you’re mining. This will easily fit in the pocket of your trousers. ” He nodded toward the cameo pinned under her shirt. “Just like you always wear that. I must admit, a gun is not nearly as endearing as a promise cameo, but…I think it’s even more meaningful. Just humor me, please.”

  “Sam…”

  He was looking at her angel cameo now, a funny look on his face. She needed to tell him the truth. Even if the words would be bitter to taste, especially after her reaction over his deceit. He’d think her a silly girl, but perpetuating the lie just to let it continue on with a life of its own didn’t feel right. Besides, what did it matter? Their relationship was already over, having gone through the worst possible betrayal.

  “Sam,” she began again. “There’s something…”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer! This is untamed territory. There are still Indians making trouble for settlers. And, actually, I don’t really blame them. I’d be darn mad if someone was running me off my homeland, as well as all the other wretched acts that are being perpetrated against them. And it’s not only them I worry about. There’re cougars, like the one that almost attacked you and Josephine, and bears, too. And let’s not forget about other miners. We might not see them now, but I’m sure they’re out there.”

  She took the small gun from the palm of his hand and turned it over, feeling its weight, hefting it gently up and down.

  “I think you’re being ridiculous.” She looked at it, and then pointed it out toward the river. “It’s so tiny. Would it even do anything?”

  “It wouldn’t kill a large animal, but the blast and sting would make it think twice about attacking. A person at close range wouldn’t stand a chance, though.” He handed her a pouch of bullets.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes!” She didn’t want anything from him. He’d already done enough. He’d not worm his way back into her good graces.

  Were his narrowed eyes and hard-set mouth his attempt to scare her? She almost laughed.

  “Cassie, stop being a stubborn mule.”

  She glared right back.

  “I won’t sleep a wink this whole month with you over here and me on the other side of the river. I know Arvid won’t budge about this camping spot, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to like it.” A sweep of his arm took in the expanse of the camp. “For one thing, you’re out in the open, easily seen from the bluff. And, like I said before, much too close to the water. There ain’t a fool like an old-brainless fool.”

  She stomped her foot, which Sam didn’t even seem to notice, but pain radiated up her sore muscles. “Sam!”

  “It’s true. And he’s a liar and a thief—and doesn’t give a hoot about—”

  “Sam Ridgeway,” she interrupted before he could say the hurtful truth. “I won’t stand for you defaming my uncle every chance you get.” She wished she could tell Sam he was wrong about her uncle, but she wasn’t completely sure anymore. “You did your own lying, too. You were going to steal the claim from me. Why, you were willing to marry me just to get your hands on it!”

  “Bloody hell,” he said under his breath. “It was already mine. Is mine,” he corrected. “And what about you, Miss On-the-Up-and-Up. Weren’t you trying to trick me with your boy get-ups? That’s different, right?”

  He turned to go. “Had something else to give you too, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll be back shortly with the stew.”

  He’s mad. Well, good! She placed her hands on her hips and watched his wide back as he strode toward the river. “Fine, then,” she called loudly. “By the time you get back these sweet biscuits should be done!” Going over to the fire, she scooped a large dollop of lard from the can and flung it into the hot skillet appeasing her anger some. She waited a moment till it settled, then ladled in batter making four mounds.

  A high-pitched whinny, more like a whistle than a neigh, sounded from across the river
, barely audible over the rushing water.

  Cassie looked up to see Sam turn back and wave her over.

  It only took a moment for her to run to his side. “Look,” he shouted, pointing down the valley of poppies.

  Both of Sam’s horses stood with their heads held high and ears pricked. Wind lifted their manes and tails as they intently watched something.

  “What? I don’t see—” She leaned closer to Sam, trying to see what he did.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Sam chuckled as his mare snorted and pranced around, hobbles and all. When Split Ear nudged up close, she squealed and kicked at him with her left hind leg.

  “A stallion,” Sam said, pointing. “Don’t you see him?”

  He extended his hand and helped her scramble onto a boulder, giving her some height. “Now I do. He’s beautiful!” In the excitement she pointed, too. “Look. He’s rearing.”

  “Blood bay,” Sam stated under his breath, in awe.

  Cassie laughed at the stallion’s bold behavior as he tried to gain the mare’s attention. After a short sprint, he slid to a halt and stood tall, motionless. His confidence, as tangible as the rock Cassie stood on, rippled towards them. His gaze shifted from the mare to where Cassie and Sam watched.

  “He’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, Sam. One mass of muscle and energy. I hope he comes closer. Look at that chest! It’s massive. His hindquarters are too.”

  The animal’s nostrils flared with excitement as he tossed his head.

  “Actually, I heard about him in the saloon in Hangtown,” Sam said, staring. “He was purchased years ago as a colt by a rich Spanish landowner and brought out here all the way from Texas. He’s a descendent of Steel Dust, a stud well-known for siring all kinds of great horses. Some wild mustang snatched his mother from the remuda, with him still at her side, along with several other good mares. They said men have been trying to re-capture him for years. To this day no one knows where he keeps his band.”

  “He doesn’t want to come too close.”

  “Give him time. He’ll try for Blu and your mare, too. He’ll wait for the right moment. The cover of darkness.”

  She looked at him in earnest, worried. The old Cassie. The one he’d held in the moonlight after she’d fallen asleep on Meadowlark. Her eyes searched his. Her kissable mouth tempted him.

  “What can we do? We’d be stranded without our horses.” Sam was sorry when she looked away, back at the marauder. “Besides, I’d never want to lose Meadowlark.”

  “As long as we’re diligent about keeping the horses hobbled, and close, we should be okay. We’ll tie one to a tree in camp every night; the others won’t go far.”

  The stallion spun a full circle and pawed the ground with a powerful foreleg, digging through the damp earth and sent a clump of sod flying.

  Sam laughed heartily. “Looks like he means business.”

  The stallion trotted a few feet closer, prompting another round of squeals from Blu, and forcing Split Ear to hold his ground by pinning his ears and snorting.

  “Poor Split Ear,” Sam chuckled. “His only girl has abandoned him.”

  Sam took out his pistol and fired one shot into the air, which brought Arvid running from his tent, gun in hand. The stallion raced away before Arvid could see it.

  “What’s going on?” He was breathing hard by the time he reached the riverbank. “Injun?”

  “No. Stallion. He’s interested in our mares.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Arvid said, waving his gun around.

  “You wouldn’t!” Cassie jumped down from the rock and faced her uncle, her brow furrowed.

  “Why wouldn’t I? I defend what’s mine.”

  “Because it’s not right! He was here first and this is his home.”

  “Women. They’re always so over-romantic.” Arvid stomped back toward his tent. “Call me when supper is ready. I’m starved.”

  “Okay, now I’m really off,” Sam said, disliking the man even more, if that were possible. “Don’t worry too much about Arvid and the stallion. That animal is a mature horse, cagey enough to have avoided the lariat for this long. I doubt your uncle could kill him even if he tried.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel much better. How can anyone think like that?”

  Sam tried to keep the knowing look off his face. Especially as Cassie’s expression said she wanted to bite her own tongue for proving his point.

  Cassie waited by the bank as Sam walked away, feeling very small in the bigness of the land. The breeze chilled her. Upstream, the river careened around a bend and crashed down a short waterfall into a big, black pool. It continued on to the shallower spot where Sam was getting ready to cross. Farther down, it widened for a few yards, and then narrowed into wicked looking rapids.

  When Sam had hopped his way across the rocks and climbed the far bank, she turned and headed back to the fire. With a pot holder in each hand, Cassie dumped out the scorched biscuits she’d been frying before the stallion arrived. With a degree of difficulty, she wiped out the hot, weighty skillet with a dishtowel. Setting the utensil back over the fire, she scooped another clump of lard and this time carefully plopped it in. At home, she could have managed the skillet one-handed, but here, on the trail, it took two—and it was three times as tricky.

  She sat back on her heels and watched as the fat melted into a clear liquid. She’d yet to get the hang of cooking over a campfire. When they’d first started their journey together they had eaten the supplies they brought with them: jerky, baked bread, and fruit. Now that most of that was eaten, food preparations fell to her shoulders.

  But tonight, their first supper on the Sourdough, Sam was graciously bringing over something he’d put together. How nice of him, she conceded. Thoughtful, indeed. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. The fact that there was going to be something to fill her gnawing belly was a blessing. And one she greatly appreciated. Staunchly, trying to hold onto the hurt she still felt every waking moment, she shoved away any nice feeling about him.

  If only she had a table to work on. Even a log would be an improvement. She looked around. A fallen tree not that far away had been stripped of its branches by someone else. If she could get it over here it would serve as a work-top of sorts. Walking the short distance, she bent her knees and gripped onto the trunk, giving a serious tug. It moved slightly. She’d need help to get it over to the fire.

  “Uncle Arvid, can you give me a hand out here?”

  She waited for him to respond. “Uncle?”

  Arvid poked his head out of his tent. “What? Is supper ready? What’s taking so long?”

  Taken aback by his angry tone, Cassie glanced away for a moment before putting a smile on her face. “Could you help me drag this log closer to the fire? It’ll make cooking a lot easier.”

  Arvid disappeared back inside. He emerged moments later pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders. “Seems like a lot of work to me. Always something with you, girl.”

  She felt awkward. “I can get it later with my horse if you’re rather not do it now. I didn’t realize you were resting.”

  He sat on the ground and pulled on his boots. “Just taking a nap before supper. Got to rest when I can.”

  Cassie had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from saying something. What would happen if they weren’t able to move the log? If it was too heavy? She’d seen his temper several times during their trip, explosive enough to make her insides quake. Then, his laziness began to grate on her nerves. Who was Uncle Arvid? Really? Other than being her father’s older brother, she realized she didn’t truly know him at all.

  Arvid came up and took a hold. “Go on and get that end,” he directed her. “On the count of three. One, two, three—”

  Cassie shoved for all she was worth and the log moved forward several feet. Arvid lurched back, but caught his heel. He fell hard on his backside. The log was ripped from Cassie’s hands.

  Arvid screamed out like a tortured animal, writh
ing in pain. Cassie ran to his side and dropped to her knees, not knowing what to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Don’t touch me, girl!” Arvid screeched. “Don’t touch me! You’ve done enough harm already. I think my back’s broke.” His arms were drawn up to his chest, his fingers resembling the crooked talons of a bird. Pain contorted his face as he glared at her.

  “Uncle Arvid, let me help you,” she gasped. “I’ll get you back to your tent.”

  “No. Not ’til the pain stops.” His eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

  “I’ll get Sam. He’ll be able to help better—” Cassie gulped down a sob as she stood. The spectacle of her uncle on the ground held her spellbound. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. He’ll know what to do.”

  Cassie took off toward the river, running as fast as she could. She paused at the river’s edge looking for the path Sam had taken, then dashed across. The last rock was covered in slime, and she slipped, plunging her foot into the icy water before she had a chance to catch her balance.

  Scrambling up the opposite side, she ran all the way to his campsite where she fell to her knees, struggling to catch her breath.

  Sam heard someone running across the ground, heard harsh breaths interspersed with the footsteps. Was it Cassie? He bounded from his tent. “What happened? Is the stallion back?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak, her breath still a tangle within her chest. Sam took her by her arms and pulled her upright so he could see her face.

  “Go on, take a deep breath.”

  “It’s Uncle Arvid. He’s hurt bad. Please come.”

  Sam grasped Cassie’s hand and pulled her along behind him as they ran down into the meadow, spooking the horses. When they arrived at the river’s edge he gave her no time to protest, but scooped her into his arms and carried her across. They made it back to her camp in minutes.

  “There.” Cassie pointed.