Heart of Gold (15 page)

Jack Dickson was there. Matthew handed him the telegram.

Jack read it, then swore beneath his breath as he lifted his eyes toward Matthew. “Politics,” he said in disgust. “Too many men want to bring the war into these mountains. A Democrat shoots a Republican and gets help from the Rebs. A Republican shoots a Democrat and gets help from the Yanks. We’re like a tinderbox up here, ready to explode into flames.”

“Guess I didn’t realize it was that bad.” That wasn’t true. Matthew hadn’t
wanted
to know it was that bad. Just because
he
wanted to stay removed from the brutal civil war that had gripped the States for over three years didn’t mean it wasn’t in the minds and hearts of others around him. He’d become more aware of that reality in the weeks since he’d shared that breakfast table with Shannon Adair and her father.

Jack shook his head. “Gold camps are dangerous places even without the added complication of North versus South. We don’t need any—” He broke off suddenly, shaking his head a second time. “No point borrowing trouble. But you’d best tell your drivers there could be difficulties on the roads. No telling what could happen next, especially if the fugitive escapes capture.”

“I’ll do it.” Matthew took a step back. “You still coming for supper tonight?”

“Planning on it.”

“Good. Alice and Todd are both eager to meet you.”

The sheriff gave a half grin. “You do know I’ll want your sister to tell me all about you as a kid. Right? Every little detail.”

Matthew chuckled. He supposed he would do the same if he were to meet a member of Jack’s family. The two men were similar in many ways, and they brought out the shared dry wit in each other whenever they were together. It had been thus from the beginning of their friendship. Although they hadn’t spent long periods of time in the same towns over the years, they always fell back into an easy camaraderie when reunited.

But Jack’s expression turned serious again. “You and William keep your eyes and ears open over at Wells, Fargo. No telling what you might learn that could help us keep the peace in Grand Coeur.”

Matthew nodded.

His thoughts turned dark as he walked the two blocks back to the office. Maybe he should tell Miss Adair to make certain Todd stayed close to home until the gunman was found. No telling what a desperate man might do. Then again, it wasn’t likely he would come into town even if he was escaping in the direction of Grand Coeur. He wouldn’t want to risk running into another sheriff or his deputy.

Unless, of course, he had friends in these parts. Then there was no telling what the fugitive might do. And Matthew’s gut told him that’s what Jack meant when he’d said to keep eyes and ears open. Sheriff Dickson
was
afraid the gunman had friends in these parts.

13

Shannon saw the difference in her patient immediately on Friday morning. The good days were over, at least for now.

“Are you in pain?” she asked Alice as she placed the breakfast tray on the table beside the bed.

“No,” the woman answered—but it was a lie. Her dark eyes gave her away.

“You’ve overdone.” Shannon placed her hand on Alice’s forehead and was thankful to find she wasn’t feverish. “Did you stay up late last night with your supper guest?”

“No. Sheriff Dickson didn’t stay long after we finished eating. And truly, we did nothing but sit at the table and eat and talk.” She forced a smile. “And laugh. The sheriff is quite entertaining.”

Shannon wasn’t fooled. Talking and laughing could be exhausting to the infirm. She’d seen that in the hospital. She should have warned Matthew something like this could happen. She should have demanded that he not have guests in his home. But his sister had done so well these past few days, it had been easy for all of them, Alice included, to forget that she was dying. It had been easy to begin to believe her improved appearance and increased strength would last and last.

“Are you able to sit up and eat something?”

This time Alice didn’t try to pretend. “I’m not hungry. Maybe a little later.”

“You should take some laudanum. It will help you sleep.”

“Not yet,” she replied softly. “It muddles my head so. I think I would like to spend some time with Todd and his puppy instead. They always cheer me up.”

Shannon wanted to refuse the request but found she couldn’t. “For a short while. Then you must eat and rest.”

It took only a few moments for Todd to answer Shannon’s call.

“Your mother wants to see you,” she said when he appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

She didn’t have to tell him to bring the puppy, for Nugget was right on the boy’s heels as he came up the steps. The two of them were inseparable. Shannon understood that Todd had found comfort in the pet in a time of upheaval. So much had changed for him. His father was gone and would never return, killed on the battlefield. He was living in a strange house in a strange town, far from the place of his birth and all that was familiar. He was living with an uncle he’d never met before arriving in Grand Coeur, and—in a town where women were scarce and children even more so—he had no friends his own age to play with.

On top of everything else, did he understand his mother was dying?

She watched from the doorway as Todd settled onto the chair next to the bed and took Nugget into his lap. The smile he’d worn as he’d darted up the stairs vanished, and in his eyes was the answer to Shannon’s question. Yes, he knew his mother was dying. Even at his tender age, he could tell there’d been a change in how his mother felt.

And all of a sudden he went from being a playful boy to being solemn and careful. A little man, shouldering responsibilities he shouldn’t have to shoulder.

“Tell me what mischief you and Nugget have been into this morning,” Alice said softly.

Drawing a deep breath, Shannon turned away from the scene and went downstairs. She made note of the time. She would give them fifteen minutes together and then insist Alice eat and sleep. Or at the very least sleep.

For both their sakes.

Matthew was alone in the office when the two men entered and strode toward the counter. One of them was tall and fair and looked to be near about Matthew’s age or a few years younger; he sported a thick mustache and looked too clean to be a miner. The other was shorter, older—in his forties, most likely—and had dark hair and beard.

“Can I help you gents?” Matthew asked as he rose from the chair behind the desk.

“Yes,” the younger man answered. “How much to send a telegram to San Francisco?”

Matthew pushed paper and pencil across the counter. “It’ll cost you a dollar, if you don’t want to say much.”

The two men exchanged a brief glance. Then the older fellow picked up the pencil and began to write while the younger dropped a couple of fifty-cent pieces onto the counter. Coins had become a rare commodity since the beginning of the war, and in towns like Grand Coeur gold dust was a more common way to pay. Matthew picked up the two half-dollars and rolled them over in the palm of his hand while waiting for the message to be written down.

It was a brief one, addressed to a Frank Thompson on California Street, San Francisco:
Conditions excellent. Encourage you and others to join us in Grand Coeur without delay. Advise of arrival date. Mack Patterson
.

“And when there’s a reply,” Matthew said, looking up from the paper, “where can I reach you, Mr. Patterson?”

“Best send that information to Mr. Burkette here. He runs the livery at the north end of Montgomery Street and can be found more readily than I can.”

Joe Burkette? This must have been the man his sister had told him about. The one who’d invited Shannon to go on a buggy ride tomorrow. The man who, according to Alice, was competing with Matthew for Shannon’s affections.

He felt an instant dislike for the good-looking fellow with the pale-gold hair and mustache. “I’ll see that any reply goes to Mr. Burkette.” He slid the pencil behind his ear.

Courting Miss Adair hadn’t seemed an immediate priority to Matthew, what with Alice feeling so much better. But this was the second time in five days that he’d found himself concerned another man might win Shannon’s interest before he could make a case for himself—first Jack Dickson and now Joe Burkette.

With a shake of his head he pushed away the troublesome thoughts.

After sending the telegram, he returned to the desk to finish entering figures into a ledger—not his favorite task in the office, but he made sure it was done right. He and William Washburn were responsible for the shipments of treasure out of the Grand Coeur Wells, Fargo office, and he didn’t want there to be any question about the accuracy of the records.

He’d just closed the cover on the accounts book when the door opened and William and Ray came through the doorway, returning from their early supper break.

“Still quiet in here, I see,” William said.

“I sent a telegram.” Matthew rose from the chair. “That’s all the business there was while you were gone.”

“Unusual.”

“Least there hasn’t been any of the trouble the sheriff was expecting.”

“Not yet, anyways.”

Matthew went for his hat. “Guess I’ll head on home.”

After nearly three weeks in Grand Coeur, folks in town had begun to know Matthew. He was greeted on the street by a merchant standing in a shop doorway; Mrs. Treehorn, who was hurrying home after closing her dress shop; and Jack’s deputy, Horace Vale, riding down Main Street on horseback. He returned their greetings with a touch of his fingers to his hat brim, but his thoughts were once again on Shannon. He didn’t have to worry about Jack going after the pretty daughter of the reverend because Jack hadn’t met her yet—and wasn’t likely to since he didn’t attend church services. But this Burkette fellow . . . The Southerner was another matter. He was taking her for a buggy ride.

What would Matthew do if Shannon liked Burkette more than she liked him? Which wouldn’t take a lot, to be honest. The two of them hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, although he believed matters had improved since she’d been looking after Alice and Todd.

Time to get serious, however. Beginning right now.

He opened the gate to the small yard and strode up to the front door. When he entered the house, he discovered Shannon standing at the bottom of the stairs. She looked especially pretty in the forest-green dress she wore today. It complemented the perfection of her pale skin and the fiery color of her hair. No wonder Joe Burkette wanted to take her for an afternoon drive in a buggy. Any red-blooded male would be attracted to her.

Well, two could play at that game.

He gave what he hoped was a charming smile. “Good evening, Miss Adair.”

She didn’t smile in return.

In an instant, he understood. “What’s wrong?” His eyes darted toward the top of the staircase.

“Your sister’s had a difficult day.”

He looked back at Shannon. “Do I need to go for the doctor?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s already seen her.”

“It’s that bad? I should have been here. You should have sent for me.”

“It was the doctor’s day to visit, Mr. Dubois. I didn’t send for him.

And there was nothing you could do for her, even if you had been at home. She is weakened. That is all. It isn’t . . . it isn’t her time yet.”

Her words were true enough, he supposed, but they did little to ease the guilt that washed over him. Guilt because he hadn’t been there when she needed him, as had been the case for too many years.

“I’ll go up.”

Shannon lifted a hand as he moved toward her and the staircase. “Eat your supper first, Mr. Dubois. Alice is sleeping now.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “I believe Todd is waiting for you.”

Matthew didn’t think he could eat at the moment, but Miss Adair probably knew better than he what was best for his sister. But Todd?

Matthew wasn’t sure he would
ever
know what the boy needed from him. He felt ill equipped to face him, to guide him, to raise him.

“Stay and dine with us,” he said, desperation seeping into his voice.

“I’m not sure that I—”

“Please, Miss Adair.”

“Well—” Uncertainty fluttered across her face, then disappeared. “I suppose it would be all right. I’ll need to let Father know.”