Sourdough Creek Page 2

  Cassie bristled at the stranger’s amusement. Josephine’s passionate show of love and protection was sweet. Poor thing must’ve snuck from under the bed and watched Klem’s vicious attack from the window. She wished she could comfort her little sister, understanding that fear was her motivation, not bravado. But she didn’t dare; it might give them away.

  “Just settle down,” she said, her voice harsh from pain and apprehension. “It’s barely even a bloody nose.”

  Josephine froze at the curt, unfamiliar command. Her confused expression said it all. She backed away, perplexed.

  Cassie didn’t have time at the moment to worry about Josephine’s hurt feelings. She’d promised their mama just moments before she’d died that she’d watch over Josephine, take good care of her, never leave her. She had to be smart and strict.

  She limped into the kitchen and over to the sink, working the pump handle until water gushed forth. Catching some with her trembling hands, she held it to her face, turning the water red. Oh, it felt wonderfully good. And cool.

  The cowboy stepped forward, reaffirming his presence. “Where is everybody?” he asked, glancing out the kitchen door into the parlor where the hall led to several guest rooms. “Seems pretty deserted around here.”

  “Most everyone’s gone.” Cassie held a dishtowel to her face gingerly, not caring if it stained. She applied light pressure under her nose as she hobbled to a chair and sat. “Just a few people left besides us and the Shermans.”

  “Klem Sherman was the one doing the fightin’. His big brother Bristol is bad too,” Josephine said, standing close beside her chair.

  He smiled at Josephine, this time a real smile, bringing lightness to his face. His eyes narrowed with pleasure and his face took on a whole different look. Inviting.

  Even at her tender age, Josephine, turning shy, ducked her head at his attention, an obviously feminine response to a handsome man.

  “Who is this young lad?” he asked Cassie with a nod toward her little sister.

  Was he blind?

  Even with short, ragged hair, her diminutive form encased in well-worn dungarees and grime smeared on her face, Josephine was the epitome of little-girl sweetness.

  “My brother, Joey,” came her dumbfounded reply. “And I’m Cassidy. Cassidy Angel.”

  At the name, the man straightened. It was obvious to Cassie he was pondering his next move, as sure as Ashes mused which end of a mole hole to watch.

  He extended his hand to her. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Cassidy,” he said, as she took his hand firmly in her own. “And you too, Joe.” He looked from one to the other, his face softening even more as he shook his head in astonished disbelief. “I’m Sam Ridgeway. Any chance you’re related to Arvid Angel?”

  Cassie’s instincts flashed on high alert. Was Uncle Arvid is some sort of trouble? He’d been here week before last, but she hadn’t seen him since. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up tomorrow.

  Still dazed from the fight, Cassie couldn’t decide if it would be better to acknowledge their relationship or keep quiet.

  “Arvid’s our uncle,” Josephine announced in her gravelly little girl’s voice. Now that she wasn’t shadowboxing the cat, her speech was back to normal, the likeness to stones rolling around on sand paper. Brightness flashed back into her blue eyes at being able to help. She blushed.

  “Your uncle?” A single-minded grin spread across his face. “I’ve been looking for him. He around?”

  Cassie gave Josephine a no-nonsense glare, promising swift punishment if she said another word. “No, mister, he’s gone. We haven’t seen him for some time.”

  Sam Ridgeway came forward and pulled out a chair, making himself comfortable. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he leaned forward and looked at Cassie intently, his hat dangling in his fingertips. “I’ve been trying to hook back up with him for a few weeks now. You sure he didn’t say where he was headed?”

  Cassie shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

  He regarded her closely for a moment. “Town’s quiet. Where did everyone go?”

  He was giving up too easy, making her more suspicious than ever. She dabbed at her nose with the cotton cloth in her hand, thinking.

  “The Lucky North, that’s the mine that kept this town alive, closed up three months ago,” she mumbled through a sore jaw. With trembling fingers, she felt around her puffy nose. “Since the vein went dry, people have been leaving here, thirty to forty a week. For the past two days I’ve only seen a handful of townsfolk. No more stagecoach either.” She stood and went back to the sink, rinsing out the towel.

  “What about your ma and pa?”

  “Our ma died a few months back,” she replied, shoving the memories aside. “The doctor thought it was typhoid fever. Our pa has been gone over a year.”

  He studied her a moment longer. “How do you make your way?”

  “Odd jobs. Most for Miss Hawthorne, the owner of this boarding house, before she packed up and left.”

  “She let us live here, too,” Josephine added.

  “If the town is all but dead, as you say, what’re you planning to do? Stay here alone?”

  Josephine had quietly inched closer to Mr. Ridgeway, obviously curious about him. Cassie was fearful of what might pop out of her sister’s mouth next. Until she figured out their next move she couldn’t chance Josephine giving away too much information.

  “Joey, go find Ashes. It wasn’t nice how badly you scared her.”

  A cloud swept across Josephine’s face. She hurried out of the room calling the cat’s name.

  “Didn’t want to talk in front of my little brother,” Cassie said. “Don’t want to worry him.”

  Sam looked interested.

  “We’re leaving, too. Tomorrow. To California. It’s a state now, you know.”

  He nodded.

  “We’re headed to the abundance of gold in the American River.” Cassie was surprised when Sam Ridgeway remained silent. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

  “Won’t take but six months to make what a grown man does in a lifetime,” she added, a niggle of anxious energy sprouting within her as he continued to stare. “Then we’ll have enough funds to do anything we want.” Her voice caught. Her mother’s dream was to start a bakery and stay in one place forever. Irked with herself for getting emotional, she covered her face with the cloth and sat back, closing her eyes.

  She wanted a reaction from him. A question. Something! “Me and Joey will start a bakery.”

  Sam’s chuckle went straight to her heart. She tried to stay her temper.

  “Everyone’s got to eat, don’t they, Mr. Ridgeway? Just cause we’re boys doesn’t mean we can’t cook! Our family recipe will make us famous and we won’t ever have to depend on anyone,” she said through the cloth. “All this from the nuggets we find.”

  Usually any talk of gold made men crazy with excitement. They’d get wound up and while away the hours, night and day, drinking and carrying on about how they would be the next one to strike it rich, hit a bonanza, discover the mother of all veins. Certainly, the men in Broken Branch did.

  The reality was quite the opposite: backbreaking, life-wrecking work that seldom paid off. Still, she and Josephine had little choice but to try, even if it was a dangerous idea. Especially for a little girl. Without family and with little money, their only option was to go forward and hope.

  An inexplicable urge to chatter on gripped her. Why the heck didn’t he say something? Just like the dim-witted men she’d just been thinking about, she blurted, “Coloma. Ever heard of it?”

  She removed the rag from her face and stared back at him, refusing to say another word until he responded.

  For several heartbeats he sat quietly, dropping his gaze down to the hat dangling in his hands. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he set it crown side down on the tabletop and nodded.

  “Sure I have. As a matter of fact, I’m headed there myself.”

  Chapter Four

 
; At last! Sam couldn’t believe it. Cassidy and Joey had to have the deed to his claim on Sourdough Creek. There could be no other explanation why Arvid’s relatives would be headed to Coloma. Somehow they’d gotten it from the fraud. But—his conscience gave him pause as he looked into Cassidy’s surprised face. Could he live with himself afterward? Retrieving the claim back from Arvid—lying, thieving skunk that he was—was one thing, but now that he’d met his two nephews, who were so young and innocent, that was another thing entirely.

  What the heck was he thinking? Of course he could! The claim was his. It wasn’t stealing to take back what rightfully belonged to him. Arvid Angel had lifted the claim from his saddlebag as he’d slept: stolen it outright after he’d won it from the Swede in a hand of seven-card stud. It was going to provide the money needed to start his ranch. Taking it back wasn’t going to bother his conscious one iota.

  Besides, a claim on a river was no place for children, especially two as young as Cassidy and Joey. They wouldn’t last a fortnight out there alone. It was for their own good to spare them that danger.

  At Sam’s pronouncement, Cassidy looked as if he’d just bitten into a lemon. His eyes bulged and his face turned crimson. Sam almost laughed.

  “I’m not surprised you’re headed to California with all the gold being scooped out of the cold waters of the American these days,” he said. “Everyone’s doing it. But what a coincidence that I should meet up with the two of you the day before you set out upon your way. My dear friend’s nephews. What a twist of fate. We’ll go together. It’s safer traveling in a group.”

  Before the boy could respond, his little brother was back, carrying the dark gray cat they called Ashes. He set the feline on a chair and stroked her fur from head to tail.

  Once again doubt darkened Sam’s thoughts. Did he really want to be responsible for this boy’s life? Cassidy must be around fifteen or so, but little Joe was really young—and would be a huge responsibility. Any number of things could happen.

  Joey turned his immense blue eyes on Sam. “Cassie…dee is going to make a cherry pie today. Miss Hawthorn left behind her last bag of dried cherries, just for us. Do you want to stay and have some? She—” Joey stopped hard and shook his head, “he makes really good pie.”

  Sam couldn’t stop the laughter that burst out. Cassidy’s incensed expression fueled his amusement. The little one sheepishly ducked his face at calling his brother a girl, even though it was highly understandable. The small, sinuous young man with his slim hips and chiseled face was probably taken for a girl more often than not. And heck, the little one was talking about baking a pie, after all.

  “Cherry pie?” he choked out, biting the inside of his cheek to quell his laughter. He coughed into his hand, but not before humiliation flickered across Cassidy’s face.

  Darn! He’d hurt the boy’s feelings—again. He hadn’t intended to. “Cherry pie, why, that’s my favorite. I have a few things I need to take care of first. When I get back maybe the pie will be baking. Can’t say that I’d enjoy anything more. Thank you. That’s a hospitable offer.”

  He stood. “But, only if it’s good with you, Cassidy. Then we can discuss our plans and route to California. By my calculations it won’t take us more than a week, give or take a couple of days, to get there.”

  Joey’s mouth dropped open at this pronouncement.

  “That’s right, son,” Sam declared with enthusiasm, chucking Joey under the chin. “We’re going to Coloma together. California, here we come!”

  He went to the door and put his hat on. Cassidy and Joey followed. “Since almost everyone’s left town, I guess you don’t have a blacksmith anymore.”

  Cassidy found his voice. “We do. Bristol Sherman is a smithy of sorts. You’ll find his shop on the corner of the next street over. He might be able to help you, but be warned. The Shermans are capable of just about anything. I wouldn’t trust either of them at all.”

  “Appreciate the warning. You sure you’re up to it? The pie I mean,” Sam added, his hand on the doorknob.

  Cassidy’s chin tipped up in defiance.

  “I promised Joey I’d make him a pie before we left Broken Branch.”

  Sam felt another stab of guilt about the whole situation, but it wasn’t enough to prompt him to ride off and leave them with his rightful claim. “Well, I’ll be looking forward to it, for certain.”

  The second the door closed Josephine threw her arms around Cassie’s middle. “I’m sorry I invited him to pie. I’m sorry I called you a girl. I’m so stupid!”

  “Hush now. You’re not stupid. You’re a very smart girl. We’ve just been put into, I don’t know, a dreadfully bizarre situation.” Ashes, winding her way through the legs of her mistresses, meowed her support. Josephine let go of her sister to pick the cat up.

  “What about poor Ashes after we’re gone?” Josephine asked, scratching the cat under the chin. The cat purred, closing her eyes. “What will become of her?” Josephine frowned in worry as she rubbed her cheek against the cat’s warm coat.

  “I’ve already told you she can’t go. Cats are afraid of horses.” Looking at Ashes in Josephine’s arms almost broke Cassie’s heart. If there was a way to keep the cat safe she’d take her along. Their ma had brought her home as a kitten after their father’s passing, to make them feel better, and she was a dear friend to both of them. But, a long trip in the wilderness would be a death sentence to her. Cassie had more than enough to worry about now. No, Ashes would be safer here in town. “She’d most likely get scared off and lose her way. You don’t want her to be supper for some hungry coyote, do you?”

  Cassie limped back to the kitchen with Josephine tagging behind. Baking was the last thing she felt like doing right now. She’d much rather lie down in a dark room with a cool rag on her face.

  “Ashes will be much better off staying here where she knows her way about and can feed on mice,” she added, trying to make the betrayal sound better in her own mind.

  “I wonder how that fella knows Uncle?” Josephine asked, still holding the cat.

  “That’s a good question,” Cassie responded, assembling her baking tools. She used two knives to deftly cut lard for the crust. This was the secret recipe her grandmother had passed down to her mother years ago, the one that would be the foundation of their bakery. “But until we know the answer or exactly what he’s up to, I don’t want you talking to him about anything. Especially stuff to do with our family or the gold claim. Or Uncle Arvid. Do you understand, Josephine? He could be trouble.”

  At Josephine’s look of distress Cassie quickly added, “But I don’t think he is. We just have to be cautious. He seems like a good man. He’s clean. Has all his teeth. He’s good looking and has a nice smile.” At the reality of how handsome he really was, butterflies fluttered in Cassie’s chest. She glanced at her sister who was nodding her agreement.

  “And he did help when Klem was lightin’ into you,” Josephine added in Sam’s defense. “He was actually rolling up his sleeves to fight him. He didn’t have to do that.”

  Cassie scooped a cup of flour into the bowl and added a little water. “You’re exactly right: he sure didn’t. But then, looks can be deceiving. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, as ma used to say.”

  Josephine pulled out a chair and climbed up, standing on the seat of it so she was eye to eye with her sister. “Sort of like us?” she asked innocently. “Are we like wolves in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be boys?”

  Josephine had her there. They were being about as truthful with Sam Ridgeway as she suspected Sam Ridgeway was being with them.

  “You make a good point. But I’m not sure it’s quite the same. Time will tell.” Cassie took a moment to smile, even if drawing her lips up into what felt like a grotesque grin sent hot slivers of pain radiating about her face. “I think you might be a politician when you grow up.”

  Josephine smiled back. “A politician or a showgirl. I haven’t decided.” Josephine curtsied and twirled around, ca
reful not to fall off the chair. It was a silly sight given her boy get-up.

  Cassie raised her eyebrows, surprised. “A showgirl?”

  “I like their shiny dresses with all the pretty feathers. And their ruby red lips.”

  Good Lord, no! I promised ma I’d take care of her! “How in the world do you know about all that?”

  “Fannie at the Paper Doll.”

  Cassie’s face warmed. “Well—fine. Let’s concentrate now on getting to California. There’s plenty of time later to think about that.”

  Chapter Five

  Sam found the smithy deserted. He tied Blu to the hitching rail and ventured around back, where he found a rundown shanty that listed to one side.

  “Hello—anyone home?” he called, feeling uneasy. It was less than an hour since he’d sent Klem packing. It wasn’t hard to believe the boy would still be nursing a grudge.

  “What the devil you want?” came a whiny reply from inside. “We’re closed to vermin like you.”

  The sounds of a scuffle penetrated the paper-thin walls. Moments later a medium-sized man dressed in overalls appeared at the door. His messy hair and bloodshot eyes shouted hangover.

  This must be Bristol, Klem’s older brother, thought Sam, who’d already decided he’d look after his mare himself before allowing either Sherman to lay a finger on her. Instead, he was looking to see if the blacksmith had a horse for sale.

  “Name’s Bristol Sherman.” He slurred his words between his teeth. “What can I do ya for?”

  “I’m looking to buy a horse.”

  At the prospect of making a buck, Bristol’s eyes lit with interest. He stumbled down the step and toward the barn. “Anything special?”