Staking Their Claim (2 page)

She crept to the door and looked out. Seeing the hall was clear now, she crept down it. There was no sign of the large man who’d followed her in. Pulling the brim of her hat down, Jenny made her way out and to the boardinghouse, telling herself she’d never again enter a house where a woman allowed herself to be used by two men.

Chapter Two: The Cowboy and the Englishman

“Outta my way!” Cody Drake hefted the wooden bucket of rock and dirt to shoulder level just as the man blocking his path moved aside. A moment later, the contents hit the bottom of the sluice box, throwing up a shower of spray that flew into the other man’s face.

“Bloody hell!” Nigel Simms whipped off his hat and wiped his muscular forearm arm across his eyes. “What you trying to do, mate? Blind me?”

Cody grinned. “Sorry. But you know better than to stand right in my way.”

His friend shook his head. “Right. Because this bucketful will be the one.”

The two looked into the trough; both men were still new enough to mining to still feel hopeful that each load dumped into the rushing water of the sluice would yield what the hundreds of other men in the gorge were dreaming of—the faint glimmer of gold, the payoff to the gamble that had taken them from their homes and families to chase the fabled promise of instant wealth.

For the ones who had been there longer, the dream was turning to desperation. And Cody and Nigel knew were it not for the quirk of fate that had made them join forces, they could just as easily be competitors.

They had staked claims next to one another before even meeting. Cody’s was the first to show color, and news quickly sped. When Nigel overheard a plot by a hulking, bearded miner to dispatch Cody and jump his claim, he tipped his neighbor off. The scrappy Englishman had even offered his help in getting the jump on the would-be claim jumper. They’d confronted the man outside his tent. He’d eyed the pair angrily, and they’d thought he might have a go at them. But the troublemaker made a better choice and backed down. Big as he was, the plotter knew he stood no chance against a muscle-bound cowboy and his equally intimidating foreign friend.

After that, Cody and Nigel had become fast friends, even deciding to pool their resources, work their claims together, and build both a sluice for their mining ventures and a cabin. Unlike some of the other men, both had come to Coloma with some money of their own—Cody’s from the sale of his stake in a small ranch and Nigel from a family inheritance. Like the other miners, they’d come to California with hopes of returning home with the kind of massive wealth that would set them for life.

“So?” Cody was looking into the rushing water now as it churned the rocky mixture, pulling away the dirt to leave the stones and anything else behind.

“Nothing… No, wait.” Nigel’s gray eyes widened and he plucked a piece of rock out of the sluice. A spidery vein of gold ran through the center. He held it up, but both men knew it was little return for the past two hard days of work. “It’s something,” he said.

“Not enough, though.” Cody took off his hat and ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. “I was hoping to see more color.”

“As was I,” Nigel said. “But it is what it is. All we can do is keep working, chap.” He clapped his friend on the back and walked away.

As Cody watched the Englishman pick up the bucket, he felt glad to have a partner who retained such optimism in the face of disappointment. It was at times like this that Cody felt almost naïve for coming to Coloma, for dreaming of instant wealth that would allow him to afford the finer things in life—the kinds of things that would win him the love of a woman like Matilda.

Matilda.
Her image drifted through his mind like a pleasant spring breeze—Matilda, with her wheat blond hair, green eyes, and winning smile. She was the prettiest girl in the territory, and he’d loved her since they were children. But the son of a modest rancher wasn’t good enough for the daughter of the local timber tycoon, not even after Cody’s father had died and left him with a share of the ranch.

It was his best friend Will who’d suggested he head west to make his fortune, selling Cody on tales of those who had found instant riches. They’d do it together, Will had said. The pair had planned for Cody to go ahead and set things up. Will would join him after he got someone to help his sister run the farm, since she was returning from visiting relatives in the east and couldn’t run it alone.

Nigel had filled the void left by Will’s delayed arrival, and Cody was glad for his help. When Will arrived, there’d be a trip; with the three of them working together, maybe they’d find gold faster. Quick riches—that’s what Cody needed. The faster he made his fortune, the faster he could return to Oklahoma and ask for Matilda’s hand. Her father surely wouldn’t say no to a returning millionaire.

“My turn.” Nigel was back with a bucket from his claim a few feet away. The contents hit the bottom of the sluice with a wet clatter and again the men watched as the water rushed through the contents. Despite there being nothing in this load, the Englishman did little more than sigh.

“Still glad you left England?” Cody asked with a chuckle. It seemed at times like these it was sometimes easier to just laugh.

“It was either take my chances with an unknown fate here or endure a known one there.” Now Nigel removed his hat once more, tossed his sandy hair from his face and rubbed the sleeve of his shirt across his sweaty brow. “I’ve always wanted to see the world, and I’m seeing it—or at least this part. And I could hardly go back now if I wanted to, what with my disgracing my family.”

Cody smiled. He’d found the differences between their upbringing intriguing. Where he’d been told to carve out the life he’d wanted, Nigel had been raised to settle into an orderly niche of his family’s making.

The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains. As Cody and Nigel began walking back toward their cabin, they could hear raised voices just over the rise. Two men were arguing. Right away, Cody recognized one of the voices as belonging to the man who’d tried to jump his claim.

Dan Forbes was standing with his arms crossed facing three other men. One was a miner named Roger; the other two, he knew by sight but not by name.

“Ain’t right, Dan. And you know it. I saw that boy stake a claim here yesterday. And I saw you pull the sign up.”

“And I told you there weren’t no claim staked. You callin’ me a liar?”

“We both are,” said one of the other men. “It wouldn’t be the first time you jumped a claim, or tried to. Why don’t you just tend to your own?”

“Don’t matter what you say,” Dan Forbes spat.

By now Cody and Nigel were level with the trio, and the cowboy put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, indicating he was interested in stopping to see where this would go.

“Weren’t no stakes,” Forbes spat. “Weren’t no sign. Unless you can prove it.”

“As a matter of fact, we can.” Roger reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Jim there saw you pull up the stakes and tear down the sign last night. He saw you throw it in the stream, but he fished it out when it got down his way.” He held the paper up. “See? Says right here the claim was staked by a William Franklin Beaumont III.”

“What?” Cody rushed forward now, snatching the paper out of the surprised man’s hand.

“Hey!” Roger began, but Cody stopped him.

“I know this man!” He tapped at the paper. “Son of a bitch! He’s made it!” Then he turned toward Dan Forbes. “I think I told you once before, you bastard, to leave well enough alone. You might be big, but don’t think this kind of thing will set well with the law or the rest of us. If William Beaumont staked this claim, you sure as hell aren’t going to take it.”

Dan Forbes smirked. “Fine,” he said, spitting on the ground. “But I’ll have it soon enough. He ain’t mined it so far, and if he don’t mine it in ten days I can jump it. That’s the law!”

“It hasn’t been ten days,” Cody said.

“Don’t matter.” The bearded face split into an ugly smile. “You think a boy who don’t come up to the middle of my chest is going to be able to do this kind of work?”

“What the hell you talking about?” Cody scoffed. “Like I said, William Beaumont is my best friend. And he’s as tall as me. Quit your lyin’. And get on out of here before we settle this right here.”

Dan Forbes said nothing, only glanced meanly once at each man before shambling himself off. Roger and the other men watched him go before turning to wander off as well.

Nigel turned to his friend. “You think maybe it’s a different William Beaumont?”

Cody shook his head. “Can’t be any other William Franklin Beaumonts, especially not thirds. Besides, everybody looks short to that animal.” Picking up a stick, he put it back in the ground and tacked the sign onto it.

“So where you think he is, then?” Nigel asked.

“Date on this says he just staked it yesterday. My guess is the boardinghouse.” Cody secured the parameters of the claim with a piece of string as he talked. When he was finished, he looked at his English friend. “I can’t wait for you to meet Will,” he said.

As they headed for the boardinghouse, Cody told Nigel of the young man he’d gone to school with. Will had not had an easy life, he said. His mother had died when he was ten and his father had shipped him off to school. When Will came home, his father had remarried. Cody never got to know Will’s younger sister very well. Jenny had been eleven years younger than her brother, and fourteen years younger than Cody. Her own mother had died shortly after birthing her and she’d spend much of her childhood with relatives, only coming home occasionally. When she was home, she kept to herself, or would take off on her horse whenever he showed up. He wondered now that Will was here who he’d gotten to take over the farm since their father died. Jenny would be eighteen now; maybe she was married off. Maybe her husband ran it.

“Looks like the typical Friday night.”

Nigel’s words stirred Cody from his thoughts. The Englishman was right. The sun had just gone down but there were already roughnecks stumbling drunk in the streets. There was a line at Cora’s; Cody wondered if the madam had managed to secure any more women to meet the demands of the miners on this side of Coloma, not that he’d ever partake. He was a man who felt women should be protected, nurtured, and led; it bothered him that the women of Cora’s were nightly thrown to the wolves.

The boardinghouse was a few doors down. There was still hammering going on out back, even after dark, as the building underwent its third expansion since Cody had come to Coloma. Inside, the lobby was rank with the smell of smoke and sweat. Cody and Nigel went up to the desk.

“I’m looking for William Beaumont,” he told the corpulent man behind the desk.

“Sounds familiar,” he said. “Little feller, right?”

Cody frowned, remembering what Dan had said.

“William Franklin Beaumont III, actually,” he said.

The man looked up over the rims of his glasses. “The feller wasn’t that specific when he got his room,” he said. “Just William Beaumont. If that’s who you’re wantin’, he’s up that staircase to your right, third door from the end of the hall.”

A man was passed out at the top of the landing. Cody and Nigel stepped over him and walked down the hall, looking for the right door. When they found it, Cody grinned at his English friend as he raised his hand to knock.

“I’m looking forward to this,” he said. “After all this time, it’s going to be quite a surprise.”

Chapter Three: An Imposter’s Punishment

Jenny was already nervous. The sound of the sharp rapping on the door didn’t help. She wondered if it was Dan Forbes, or maybe someone he’d sent to do her in. After all, it had to have been Forbes who’d written the note she’d found under her door—the note warning that if she showed up to mine her claim she may have an accident. By law, she had to start mining within ten days or someone else could claim her staked plot. But now she was afraid to even step outside.

The person on the other side of the door rapped again.

“Whadya want?” she asked, lowering her voice. As she did, she tugged at the binding that still held her breasts flat against her chest. She longed to be free of the constrictive ache, but she was afraid now of doffing her disguise, even for a moment. Her mind drifted back to May, her body being used by two men. If that’s what happened to women in Coloma, she wanted no part of it.

“William!” someone called from the other side.

Jenny stared at the door. The voice sounded familiar. Her heart began to pound. She continue to stare at the door. The man on the other side was rapping harder now.

“Will! Come on! Open up! It’s me, Cody!”

Cody? Damn. She remembered—the friend who used to come around the farm sometimes when she was home from school. Tall. Hair black as coal. He’d referred to her as ‘a little girl,’ the first time he’d seen her, and she’d been so offended that she’d ridden off on her horse. After that, she made it a point to avoid Cody Drake. There was something about his bearing—something authoritative—that reminded her of the teachers she had at school. She didn’t like it; didn’t like him.

And she didn’t want to see him.

“Go away.”

The knocking stopped. Jenny stood there, holding her breath. She’d wait him out. She’d wait him out, and then when he left she’d go down to the law and give them the note and… then what? She didn’t know. All she knew was that none of this was going the way she’d envisioned, the way Will had always said it would go.

After a moment she walked over to the door. She didn’t hear anything on the other side. She cracked it and was about to hesitantly peek out when it burst open, pushing her back. She fell to the floor just as two men walked in. Her hat came off and she hurriedly put it back on as she stumbled to her feet.

Cody was taller than she remembered. His hair was longer, too. But the eyes—those piercing eyes—were the same as she remembered, the same as the first time he’d looked at her and called her a little girl. And there was a man with him, also tall, with a handsome, sharp-featured face.