Sourdough Creek (22 page)

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

“C
assie?” 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?”

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.”