Sourdough Creek (24 page)

Arvid’s head rolled to one side and he spat out the stick. “Whiskey.”

“Where is it?”

Arvid moved his eyes toward his saddlebag. Sam unbuckled the leather pouch and fumbled around until he felt a bottle and pulled it out. With a twist, Sam jerked out the cork and lifted Arvid’s head, holding the bottle to his lips.

“Take a long drink.”

Arvid gulped down several swallows and closed his eyes as some of the amber liquid dribbled down his chin. “More.”

They repeated that process several times until Sam felt certain Arvid had a good bellyful. Sam wiped off the older man’s chin and laid him back on his bedroll, satisfied when his eyes remained closed and his breathing evened out.

He slowly backed out of the tent.

Cassie waited for him, her eyes stricken.

“What are we going to do, Sam?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“He’s in so much pain; it’s horrible. I can hardly stand to look at him.”

“When he wakes up we’ll talk to him and see what he wants to do. If he’d like to go back to town to see if there’s a doctor, I can make a travois and we’ll take him. It’ll be painful, but it can be done. He may want to wait it out, knowing how best to deal with this himself, if he’s had back pain before. We’ll just have to be patient to see what he feels up to doing.”

Sam looked around, trying to decide what to do. It’d be hours before Arvid slept off his drunken stupor, and he was glad for it. It would be best if he could get Cassie’s mind off Arvid until they actually had to figure out what they were going to do.

“Go catch up your horse,” he said.

Cassie looked surprised.

“I’ll saddle her and move the log so you can use it to work on. Right now, while you get her, I’ll retrieve the stew. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

“Sam, I couldn’t eat…”

“You may not be able to eat, but I can. I haven’t had a bite since this morning. Go on, do as I ask and I’ll be back before you’re done.”

Along with the stew, Sam gathered up his bedroll and a few other things he’d need for the night. Cassie was scared, and he didn’t blame her. Arvid was in a bad way. Sam had never had any back problems, but he’d seen fellows that had been crippled for life by falling from a horse and landing the wrong way. They suffered horribly from the pain, without much to help except strong liquor and prayer. As much as he disliked Arvid, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Sam started back with his arms full of his gear and the pot dangling from a finger. At the river’s edge he made two trips across to be sure he didn’t slip and lose what little dinner they had.

“Hey, I’m back.”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder at him as she worked at the campfire. She’d caught and saddled Meadowlark, and the horse was tied to a nearby tree. Arvid’s chestnut gelding, the animal that her uncle just called Horse, had followed them over, and was nosing around on the outskirts of camp.

“Said I was going to saddle her,” Sam offered, trying to understand the way her mind worked. “It would only take me a second, and you have enough on your mind.”

“I know. I needed something to do.”

Shaking his head he asked, “Has he woken up?”

“No.” She stood. “I haven’t heard a peep from him. Sam, I’ve been thinking. This could be awfully bad. He may be paralyzed.” She paced back and forth, looking at the ground. “What was I thinking? I should have waited for you.”

“Cassie, stop. We’re going to wait and see how he is. It’s unfortunate this has happened, but things could be worse…”

He tried to think of something worse than being unable to move, even an inch, without devastating pain gripping your body, but was stuck. “I agree it’s pretty bad—but, thinking on the bright side, he could be dead.”

She gaped at him. “Don’t say that.”

“Okay, I won’t. But you have to agree to stop thinking the worst until we know more. Let’s concentrate on moving this tree, and getting this camp set up so it’s livable so no more accidents will happen.”

Cassie stopped her pacing. “Fine.” She took the stew from his fingertips, looking questioningly at the other things Sam had bundled in his arms. When she looked into his face he tried not to smile.

Chapter Forty

S
am shrugged. “I thought it best if I moved over here in case you need help with Arvid when he wakes up. It could be in the middle of the night.” He set the things he was holding on the ground. Even in the dusky light of evening Sam could see Cassie’s face taking on a pinkish hue.

“Thank you, Sam,” she said softly this time. “I appreciate your help more than you could know.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiled, hoping she would see that all he wanted was to help her, love her. Spend the rest of his life with her.

“There’s something else,” Cassie said.

He was surprised at the pain moving across her face. “Yes?” he prompted.

“I’m sorry about slapping you the night we got….” She paused, unable to go on as if the thought of them getting married was just too painful. “I’m not sorry for what I said, because I meant every word of it. But, I am sorry that I hit you so hard.”

She was softening to him. He was sure. He brought his hand up and covered the offended spot as if it still hurt. Her brows crunched into a remorseful frown. “That’s okay, Cassie. I understood why you did it.”

He glanced down into the frying pan. There were two yellow biscuits bubbling in the hot oil, their outer rims turning black and crispy.

“Those look, uh—good.”

“The biscuits!” Cassie wrapped a dishtowel around the hot handle, pulling the pan away from the flames. “I can’t believe this. I burned these, too. I can’t seem to get anything right, lately.”

“They aren’t burned, just a little crunchy. Serve ‘em up. We’ll get to the tree after we eat.”

Cassie poured Sam’s concoction, which resembled brown water with bits of potato into two tin bowls, and placed them on tin plates. With her spatula she slid a biscuit alongside. “Should I keep a little back for Uncle Arvid?” She handed him his plate.

Sam headed for the log that had started all the trouble. He sat down. Cassie followed.

“I doubt he’ll have an appetite when he finally comes to. I’d wager he’s going to want more whiskey.”

She looked at her plate for several long seconds. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Well, eat it anyway,” Sam said. “You’ll be hungry later if you don’t.” He took a bite of his biscuit and followed it with a spoonful stew.

Cassie stalled. “I wonder how Josephine is doing.”

Sam chewed a few seconds. “I’m sure she’s fine. You know how young’uns are. They adapt quickly. She’s probably going to school and enjoying herself.” He stuffed the second half of the biscuit into his mouth. “No need to worry with Grace and Annabelle taking care of her.”

He was right. There was no need to worry. But that didn’t stop her from missing her. It had been hard falling asleep without her by her side. They’d slept in the same bed ever since their ma’s death, when Miss Hawthorn had taken pity on them and let them move into the boarding house. Cassie was used to Josephine’s cold, little feet.

“Cassie? What are you thinking?”

“I know you’re right. I just have to keep reminding myself of it.”

They finished in silence and as Cassie put the cooking supplies away and cleaned up, Sam moved the tree with the help of Cassie’s horse and his lariat. He chopped a number of saplings and nailed them across the top. It was crude, uneven and wobbly, but if one was careful, it held plates and other wide-based objects. She was thankful.

In the dark, Sam moved his two horses over the river to Cassie and Arvid’s side, to keep them safe from the marauding stallion and any other large animals looking for prey. He snubbed Blu to a tree and said his goodnights.

Dawn was just breaking when a loud string of cuss words jarred Sam out of his sleep. He met a sleepy-eyed Cassie in front of Arvid’s tent. She reached for the tent opening.

“No. Let me,” Sam said, pulling back the flap to find Arvid looking at him from his bedroll with cherry-red eyes and rumpled clothes. The look on his face would wither a cactus flower.

“How’s your back?” Sam asked.

“How do you think?”

“I bet it hurts like hell,” Sam replied evenly.

“Where’s Cassie?”

“Right here, Uncle Arvid,” she called past Sam. “Can I get you something to eat? Some water? Can you move?”

“I don’t know what hurts worse, my back or my head. No doubt you got great satisfaction drowning me with my own whiskey.”

Sam silently counted to five, restraining his anger. “You asked for it. Do you want to try to come out? Sit for a while?”

“Yes. Hurt or not, I’m going to have to do my business sometime.”

Sam almost groaned out loud. What in the world were they going to do with Arvid all the way out here?

Cassie touched his arm to get Sam’s attention. “I’ll start a fire if you’ll bring him out,” she whispered quietly. “Do you think you’ll need my help?”

“No, the tent’s too small for all three of us.”

“What do you think I should do? What will he want to eat?” She was wearing a long nightshirt and wrapped in a blanket, with her boots poking out beneath. She looked beautiful.

“Make anything that’s quick and easy.”

“Okay, and…”

“Come on and quit your yabbering,” Arvid called out angrily. “You think I’m deaf? I can hear you talking about me. If I don’t get to the bushes soon it won’t be pretty.”

Cassie’s face scrunched up in horror and embarrassment. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

Sam gritted his teeth and looked out over her head at the bluff. “Don’t mention it.”

While Sam helped Uncle Arvid, Cassie ran and got dressed, and then started a fire. She laid a few slices of bacon into the frying pan, and made biscuits. The coffee was just finished perking, the rich aroma making her mouth water. She assembled the plates, cups, and eating utensils on the makeshift table Sam had made the day before.

“Here, Uncle, sit here,” Cassie said, patting the log near the fire as he and Sam inched slowly into camp. Sam had a firm hold on his right arm as Arvid shuffled along. Sam’s face was a blank mask, but Uncle Arvid actually managed a smile.

“Thank you, girl.”

“Bacon and biscuits are almost done.”

Sam poured two cups of coffee, holding one out to Arvid.

Arvid reached for it, but stopped, his face grimacing as he pulled his limb back down into his lap, leaving Sam standing there. “When I first woke, I hurt like the dickens. But, being up and moving seems to have loosened me up some. Still hurts, mind you, but if the absence of tingling in my legs and neck is any indication, I think I’m on the mend.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Cassie replied. She sat next to him with a plate of food and took the cup from Sam. She carefully put the coffee to his lips to give him a sip. “Just take a little, it’s pretty hot.”

He sipped and swallowed, his face screwing up tight. “Ooooweee, that’s
strong
! If that don’t grow hair on my backside, nothing will. Woman’s work is just not your thing, niece.”

Cassie felt stung. In light of everything else, his comment cut her to her core. The coffee was the same as she’d been making for days. “I guess my thoughts were distracted this morning and I added too much coffee. Do you want me to make another pot?”

“Do I have to ask twice?”

Sam’s face was hard. “Tastes fine to me, Cassie. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Arvid sighed. “Oh, he’s probably right.” He cast cheerless eyes to the dirt at his feet.

Frustrated, Cassie tossed the coffee from her uncle’s tin cup into the bushes. She turned for the pot.

Arvid cleared his throat. “Waste not, want not,” he said, giving her a knowing look of chastisement. “That coffee is costly, mind you.”

“Oh, for the love of Pete! If you weren’t already hurt I’d throw you in that river!” Sam said angrily. “I’d like nothing better than to see you bobbing away never to be seen again.”

Confused, Cassie looked at the pot in her hands. “But you asked…” Backing away, she hurried off to the river. When she returned she found Sam hand-feeding her uncle. She quickly made another pot and put it in the hot coals. “Let me do that.” She took Arvid’s plate from Sam, who relinquished it readily and stepped away. She sat down in his place.

Cassie put a piece of bacon up to Uncle Arvid’s mouth and his lips stretched out greedily.

“Mmmm, that’s good bacon.”

“I think I should take Arvid back to town where someone can care for him properly,” Sam said. “In a house with a bed. It’s the prudent thing to do.”

Arvid stopped chewing. “I’m not leaving my claim,” he said around the clump of pork in his mouth. “You can just forget about that! I’m here to prove my rightful ownership of the place.”

“How’re you going to do any work?” Sam replied heatedly. “Tell me. You can barely even walk.”

“Until I’m up to it, I have Cassie. She was going to help me anyway. What’s the difference?”

“You can’t expect her to do the work of a man, and care for you night and day. That’s not possible.”

Cassie’s face grew hot. Did he think she was a shrinking violet? “What are you talking about? Of course I’m going to work the claim. My gosh, Sam, before you and Uncle Arvid showed up I was planning on working it myself, with Josephine.”

Sam swung his arm wide, taking in the expanse of the wilderness. “Can you see now how impractical that stupid notion was? Just one night here and someone, a grown man at that, is hurt seriously. Josephine wouldn’t have lasted a day.” He frowned at her. “Do you even know what a flake of gold looks like? This whole idea was foolish! And I’m the biggest fool for going along with it in the first place. I can’t believe I agreed. It’ll be a miracle if you find any gold at all without killing yourself first.”

Cassie tossed her uncle’s empty plate into the wash bucket. “I’ll be back in a while, Uncle Arvid, to help you back to your tent.” She stomped over to the pack that held the mining gear and pulled out the gold pans. Taking one, along with a small glass vial, she hefted a pick and headed down to the river. “We’ll just see about that.”