by Alden, Dana
She jumped up off the bed and began pacing the small room. For that is what she did wish… that Cal was free to choose another path… one that involved herself.
There was a knock on the door. She stopped pacing. He’d come back! She smoothed her skirt and rushed to the door. She couldn’t help but smile wide. She pulled open the door and halted even before she could say hello.
It wasn’t Cal. Her heart sank.
There, at the threshold, stood Pastor Frank with a stranger behind him. Though it had only been three days since she’d last seen the preacher, it felt like much longer.
“Pastor Frank!” She felt the genuine smile sliding from her face but managed to paste on a polite one. Though they’d traveled in the same pack train for weeks, and she’d found him rather a pest, it wasn’t his fault she’d been hoping for Cal and not him.
“Miss Amanda,” said Frank, giving Amanda an eager smile. “It is my great pleasure to see you safe and sound.”
“Thank you, Pastor Frank.” Unlike the last time there was a knock at the door, when it was Cal standing there, she didn’t open it wide or give any indication her visitor was welcome into her room.
“I have many things to discuss with you, but first, there is one that is urgent.” Frank turned and gestured to the man beside him, who gave her a nod of his head. “This is Miles Carston. He knows your brother.”
Miles glanced around the hall, as though someone might overhear them. Amanda stepped into the hallway and spoke quietly. “Do you know where he is? Is he safe?”
Mr. Carston spoke in a low voice, leaning toward her without moving his feet, like a sapling blown by the wind. “I do. He’s safe enough, but he’s dying. Ain’t right for family to be so close at such a time and not get to say their goodbyes.”
Amanda’s breath caught in her chest. Cal had told her the rumors, that Samuel had been shot, but it was different to hear it so baldly put that he was dying.
“Where is he? Can you bring me to him?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ok,” she said, thinking aloud. “I need to tell—”
“No, ma’am. I said he’s safe enough, but that’s because no one knows where he is. It’s best no one knows for sure he’s nearby.”
“I see, yes. Ah,” she was flustered, wanting to go to Samuel but recalling Cal’s concern that she stayed out of sight. “I guess, we can…” She gestured to the two men.
“No, ma’am,” Mr. Carston said again. “I approached the Pastor because I heard he knew you, but I ain’t bringing him to no hidey-hole.” He glanced around again, as though someone could have snuck into the small hallway without their realizing it. “It’s now or never, ma’am. Samuel ain’t gonna last too long and if I’m caught with him then neither will I.”
Pastor Frank began to worry his hat in his hands. “Say a prayer with him, Miss Amanda. A man shouldn’t die alone.” Then he added, “And, sometimes… sometimes a man needs to get something off his chest before he goes to face the Lord. You go be there for him.”
Amanda hesitated only a moment. There really was no choice. Even if Samuel hadn’t been dying, she wanted to talk to him, to figure out what had happened. Surely the rumors of his criminal activities were wrong. Perhaps the actions of another man had been attributed to him, or maybe his own actions had been greatly exaggerated?
He was dying, and she couldn’t imagine not reaching out to him, to offer comfort or care if she could. How could she face her stepmother or father, or even herself in the mirror, if she didn’t?
“We’ll be back…?”
“By supper, if we get a move on.”
“Let me get my things. I’ll be but a moment.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She didn’t even have a piece of paper or a pen to write a note to Cal. But he wasn’t due back until the next day anyway, and she’d be back before then.
Chapter 16
Amanda stood at the bedside of Samuel— if you could call it that. He was lying on a bedroll on the floor, a dirty, ratty blanket thrown over him. He was inside a lean-to type shed with canvas draped where the wood was not. The canvas kept the sun away, but not the flies. Samuel lay there, pale under his tanned face, with red spots of color on his cheeks. His fever could be felt before her hand touched his forehead.
“Oh, Samuel.”
He was dirty, smelly in a way that combined unwashed man with putrefying wounds. She had thought if she found him, she could help, and they’d find a way out of this mess. But even in her inexperience, she could see death hovering.
Mr. Carston had warned her so, on the ride there. She’d ridden his extra paint pony down the barely-there trail, with several switchbacks and timewasting in shadowy trees to see if they were being followed. She’d had nothing to do but follow and consider Carston’s prediction about Samuel. But she’d been sure it couldn’t be so bad. Someone who grew up on a New England farm, at least in his teen years, milking cows and digging rocks out of pastures for crops and walls…? Someone who gave his little stepsister rides on his shoulders, making horse trot sounds…? Someone who’d come back to visit dressed as a dapper store clerk with penny candy for the kids… well, someone like that shouldn’t die in a shack across the country, hurt and sick and dirty, and in such pain.
“Why are you here?” Samuel asked in a weak voice. His eyes were dull and half closed.
“I came when your friend said you were hurt.”
“No,” he paused to cringe as a wave of pain shot through him. “Here. Montana Territory.”
Amanda felt a little offended. “I came to help you at the mercantile. What happened to the merc?”
“I told you not to come. Sent… letter.”
Amanda’s heart sank. She didn’t know this unfriendly, sick stranger. He was not the young man she remembered.
“Why… how... I didn’t get a letter,” she finished lamely, knowing she’d left Lowell before he’d even had a chance to respond.
Samuel was silent, his eyes closed. She wondered how long she should stand there.
“Your father’s money,” he gasped, struggling. “Bought a claim and mining tools.”
“So, there never was a store? But you sent money back to my father.”
Samuel continued, seeming to talk to the air because he didn’t answer her question or even try to look at her.
“A bust. Gambled. Won a bar. Lost it.” He struggled to take a deep breath. “Got in with a gang, y’know… robbing men.” He had beads of sweat on his forehead, the effort to talk costing him. “Sent money to pay back, but never enough. Not to repay. Not to escape.” His breath grew shallow and he seemed to sink farther into the rags he lay on.
“Why did you bother to write? Why lie?” She couldn’t make sense of Samuel’s choices. Or the consequences that followed.
“Go,” he rasped. “I’ll face my maker on my own.” His bony hand jerked under the blanket, as though he were trying to wave her away.
Amanda stood there, looking at the shell of the man Samuel had turned into. She felt at a loss. A loss for how to help, and how to connect with him. Even a stranger shouldn’t go through this alone, but Samuel felt further away than a stranger and wanted nothing to do with her. Shouldn’t he want her to stay with him if only to hold his hand?
The flap behind her lifted and Mr. Carston waved her out.
Well, what about her? She needed more answers before she left. “Samuel, this man Ned; he’s looking for me.”
Samuel didn’t even look at her. “Go. Away. Far.”
“They say he wants his gold. That you took it.”
“Gold’s… gone.” He closed his eyes.
“Samuel, this man thinks you’ll give him the gold if he gets me first,” she was starting to panic. Shouldn’t he care, even a little?
“Went looking for a doc, got robbed. Gold’s gone.” He told her with a rattling breath. “Go.”
“I have one more thing to do, Samuel.” She knelt at his side, bowed he
r head and spoke quietly.
“God, I don’t know why all this is happening right now. But we know you are here with us. Please help Samuel in his suffering and receive his spirit when it is time.”
She looked at Samuel, but he did not open his eyes.
“Amen,” she said. After a moment, she stood.
“Goodbye, Samuel.” He didn’t respond.
Mr. Carston held the flap open as she stepped outside. The sun was gone, hidden behind dark clouds. The temperature had already dropped.
It felt wrong just leaving him there, even despite everything. She imagined how his mother, her stepmother, would be heartbroken to learn of his death. Amanda felt her own loss, but it wasn’t for the man particularly, no more than for any other fading and suffering creature. She felt a loss for the memory of affection she’d been carrying these past years, or imagined, and the misplaced pride her father had felt, sending Samuel to Montana Territory with a nest egg to start his own business.
She stepped outside while the friend carried a bundle of rags inside to Samuel. He came back out and began to walk down the path they arrived on. His head was bowed. He said nothing.
She felt a loss of her own dream.
And she felt a loss for her innocence.
Lies, robbery, murder, at least one more with Samuel’s impending death. She’d heard the tales, read them in the newspapers and penny dreadfuls, but it hadn’t felt real. Tall tales from a storybook. The world was truly more dangerous than she’d realized or wanted to admit to herself.
And even though she’d had a few days to adjust to the idea that the Samuel was not at a mercantile, ready to hire her on as a clerk, she hadn’t known how far off the mark she had been. Her dream, based on wishful thinking, had been a fantasy.
“Samuel doesn’t have the gold.” It was part question, part statement. The man was looking at her, expectant. Waiting.
Amanda came out of her thoughts. Mr. Carsten was leading her back to town and they’d stopped under some cottonwood trees while the clouds poured out small hail.
“What? Yes. He said he was robbed.” She found she couldn’t care about the gold. It had never existed for her before the previous night. But who could even think about treasure when faced with the decaying body of a man she’d once known as a boy?
“That’s not good. Ned will expect you to know where it is.” He shook his head and turned to watch the hail bouncing off the ground.
“How should he?” She felt indignant. What right had anyone to involve her in this mess? “It’s not my doing,” she said.
Mr. Carston brushed a fly off his face. “They’re hoping Samuel will have told you on his deathbed.”
“No one knows I’ve gone to him, except Pastor Frank.”
“Ned knows where Samuel is. They’ve been waiting for you to learn Samuel’s secret.” He paused a moment, and Amanda felt a chill. “Samuel will be dead soon. Ned wants the credit, but he wants the gold more.”
Amanda gripped the reins and her whole body tightened, causing the pony to dance around with concern.
“Why did you take me there?”
“Well, last time I went to town I was told it would be beneficial to my health.” He turned and looked her straight in the eye. “I’ve done what I was told to do and now I’m heading out before any new troubles come my way.”
“What about—” She was interrupted by a gunshot coming for the direction they’d just left. She spun her pony around. “Samuel! We’ve got to help him.” What could she do? She didn’t know, but he was defenseless there.
Mr. Carston reached out and grabbed the pony’s bridle before they could start running. She tried to imagine what Cal would do now, but her thoughts were interrupted by the shock of Carston’s next words.
“Miss Amanda, that was Samuel finishing things up. No man wants to suffer like that when he knows there’s no coming back.” He watched her carefully and when he was sure she wasn’t going to take off, he let go of the bridle. Then, he tipped his hat as he looked back toward the makeshift camp. He closed his eyes briefly, his lips moving.
Was he a friend? Was he an enemy? Amanda had never had enemies before this trip and didn’t know how to categorize a man who performed at the behest—or threat—of a bad guy, but still looked out for a sick man in a way so hard to accept.
Amanda felt scared, angry and relieved all at once. She hadn’t known Samuel anymore, didn’t want to go into battle for him. But she didn’t want him to suffer either. And now, if Mr. Carston was right, he didn’t suffer.
Mr. Carston opened his eyes, swung his horse around and headed toward town again. “I’ll drop you off in town, and then I’ll go back and bury Samuel. After that, you won’t see me around here again.”
Her pony followed on automatically. The hail had stopped by now, and the sun was pushing through again.
“What… about… a cemetery?” Shouldn’t she be able to tell her parents that Samuel was laid to rest properly?
“Bozeman doesn’t have a cemetery yet, ma’am.”
“Oh.”
All Amanda wanted was to get back to her hotel room and hide under the covers until Cal returned. She was surprised how desperately she wanted to be with Cal. Not for protection, but for comfort. Mr. Carston stayed silent until they reached the edge of town. Then he halted the ponies.
“Looks clear,” he said. “You can walk in from here.”
Despite being so close to the hotel, Amanda felt abandoned. She looked all around them, imaging Ned’s men hiding behind every tree and bush. She slid off the pony, handing the reins to Mr. Carston. At least, she realized, the dust had been damped down by the brief hailstorm. The sun was back out and warming up the afternoon, though she felt a chill inside that wasn’t about the weather. Amanda looked at Mr. Carston but didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you,” sounded strange in her ears but she said it anyway.
Mr. Carston tipped his hat to her. “I have two pieces of advice, if you’re willing to hear?”
Amanda nodded.
“Be careful who you trust.”
She nodded again.
“And don’t let on that you don’t know how to get to that gold. You’ll be signing your own death warrant.”
Amanda’s hand flew to her heart and she took a step back. With Samuel dead and the gold gone, she’d thought that would be the end of Ned’s vendetta. Now Mr. Carston was saying this wasn’t the case, that relief couldn’t accompany her grief.
Mr. Carston turned his ponies back down the trail. She watched him until the glare of the sun became too much and she faced the town instead. She needed to get back to her room… and hope she didn’t run into anyone on the way.
* * *
Amanda had spent all night in her room in town. She’d gone over and over her meeting with Samuel. She thought back on his visits when she was a child… About how he’d snowed her father and stepmother with his letters home. And in the end, it didn’t matter. He was dead and whatever she might have wished was irrelevant.
She was alone now, at least in this part of the world. And, she was disappointed; she’d had such high hopes for a life lived with self-determination. But, she wasn’t as scared as she’d expect to be.
Because of Cal.
She had no claim on him, or he on her. If anything, he was claimed by another woman. Despite that, and despite Mr. Carston’s admonition, she trusted Cal wouldn’t leave her high and dry.
More than that, Amanda believed Cal was growing to care for her. He had shown her his homestead with pride, and she had thought, a little hope. She was so impressed by him. Did he even know that? It wasn’t about the land, though it looked to be good land and a good place to live. And it wasn’t just his accomplishments, either… but also his character. After seeing the depths to which Samuel had sunk, she realized how much she admired Cal’s honest, hard-working self. And he had helped her, a stranger, without qualms. He stood up to bears and to dangerous men dressed as bears!
He�
�d brought her to a huckleberry patch when she’d said she wanted to try this local berry. He was kind and courteous, strong and tough. He was interesting and handsome…she was veering away from matters of his good character but still it was true. And all of it was attractive.
She didn’t blush, yet felt just a little silly dreaming about Cal’s good looks. He was commendable, inside and out. Now, she blushed. It seemed she was giving her heart to a man who hadn’t asked for it, and who was committed to another woman.
And she had nothing to offer. Less than nothing, because she had an enemy stalking her. Talk about foolish!
She readied herself for Cal’s return, pouring water into the washbasin. She washed her face, neck and hands, re-tucked her neckerchief and tidied her hair. And that was all she could do, for now; she needed Cal’s help to figure out where to go from there.
She armored herself with as respectable an appearance as she could, so she wouldn’t just collapse into his arms. She didn’t think they had a future together, but maybe, if she told him how she felt…
There was a knock at the door.
She wished for a mirror but settled for just one last smoothing of her skirt. She opened the door, excited, but with more care after the experience of the day before.
It wasn’t Cal.
Chapter 17
Cal urged Miss Molly on. His horse was tired, her head bobbing low to the ground. It had been a long ride to Gallatin City the previous day and now they were heading back already. He couldn’t wait to see Amanda.
It had been easy to find Delia. Despite being the County Seat, Gallatin City wasn’t that big. And every man there was aware of the beautiful woman waiting for Cal. And she was beautiful. He’d been shocked when he found her sitting on the bench on the porch of the hotel. Same brown hair and green eyes. Now, though, she was grown, with luminous skin and a lovely figure. He might have been interested if he hadn’t met Amanda first.