Rapture's Gold

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Oh, Buck, I’ll be rich!” she told him, picking out a few gold flecks after several more minutes of swirling the drag. “If I sit here every day and do this for six months or so, I’ll have a ton of gold!”

  He chuckled. “Not exactly. But you’ll do well enough. Just be careful to pick out the right stuff. There’s a lot of gangue in the drag.”

  “Gangue?”

  “Worthless minerals. All you’re interested in is the gold and silver. The garnets are okay, but nothing to worry about.”

  She dipped the pan again. “This is easy,” she bragged.

  “Do it for a few hours and you’ll change your mind. You’ll be mighty sore the first few days.” He began to roll a cigarette, then sat down on the ground next to her, watching her swirl the mud and rock. “Gently,” he spoke up, “and get rid of all that junk on top.” He lit the cigarette. “Later on, after you’ve panned this way for a few weeks, you’ll want to dig down into the ground at different spots along the creek. Use the shoveled dirt to wash out in a pan. Chances are good you’ll find a lot more. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll discover a bonanza.”

  “What’s that?”

  He took a drag on the cigarette. “A very rich vein of gold—or silver,” he answered. “There could be one around here, but like I told you, don’t be too sure of it. You’ll work a lot faster once I build that sluice for you. I’m glad I brought a little lumber.”

  “What will a sluice do? How does it work?” Harmony asked.

  “It will speed you up. It’s kind of a rocker. You shovel the dirt into it, and we position it along the creek so that the water runs right through it all the time, keeping the dirt washed. You rock the dirt back and forth and it gets constantly washed away until all that’s left is the drag with the real stuff in it, just like in your pan, only on a bigger scale. You can use shovels full instead of little pans full.”

  “Oh! Then build one right away!” she said excitedly, picking out more gold from her pan.

  His eyebrows arched. “I intend to, but not until I smoke this cigarette.”

  She laughed lightly. “You know what I mean.”

  He leaned over and studied the drag in her pan. “You’ve got quite a bit in that one. Lots of color. Keep up the good work.”

  “I could do this forever!” she commented, shifting slightly on the board.

  Again he noticed her hips, the roundness of her bottom against the hard board, the way the pants fell around her thighs, outlining slender legs he knew must be silken. The way she sat, her knees bent, dipping the pan between her legs, her face alight with enthusiasm, he wondered if he’d ever seen such beauty, or ever wanted so badly something that he could not have. Yes, he had. Once before. Mary Beth. But she had wanted him back, and if it hadn’t been for Wade Tillis, he’d have had her for his own. Harmony, on the contrary, wanted nothing to do with men, not in that respect.

  “You’ll talk differently after doing it for a couple of days. Your back and arms will regret that statement, Shortcake.”

  He got up and walked to the stack of lumber he had brought, retrieving a hammer and nails. For the next few hours he pounded while she swirled dirt and water. Once or twice she glanced at him, noticing his sureness and strength, grateful for his constant help and patient instruction. Buck Hanner was a pretty good man, if there was such a thing as a good man. Of course there was. Brian had been a good man. But Buck was different. Buck made her look at him the way women looked at men who were desirable. That made her angry, not at Buck but at herself. She kept forcing back her feelings, the little urges she didn’t understand. They frightened her. Panning for gold helped tremendously. This was exciting! Real gold! All her own! She really did own this claim; and this really was her gold.

  She settled in and panned right through lunch, forcing herself not to look at Buck Hanner as anything but a friend. The work helped. Soon he would be gone, and that would be even better. She’d be fine then. She’d forget him and that would be that.

  Harmony stared at the blurry cards. “I don’t care if the ace is worth more than the king, or the other way around,” she complained. “I’m too tired.”

  “I’m just trying to teach you a few games you can play alone, Shortcake,” Buck answered. “Believe me, you’ll need to know them, because you will get so lonely you’ll be talking to the rocks. Did you bring some books like I told you to do?”

  “Yes. Can I go to sleep now?”

  He took the cards from her hand. “If you had stopped panning when I told you to, you’d not be so tired now. Tomorrow you’ll practice with the rifle and not do any panning. Give your back a rest. After that I’ll be about done with the sluice. I’ll teach you how to use that, then we’ll see if you can shoot yourself some game. Then it will be about time for me to get going. Luckily Brian left quite a bit of wood. I’ll chop some more over the next couple of days, and more when I return in a couple of months.”

  “A couple of months?” She met his eyes. She had grown used to his friendship, his companionship—perhaps too used to it. “I’ll kind of miss you, Buck.”

  He smiled almost sadly. “I’ll kind of miss you too, Shortcake. Go on to sleep now.”

  Somehow she walked to the bed and Buck tucked a blanket around her and she wasn’t afraid. The next thing she knew it was morning. Buck Hanner was making the breakfast. Two huge kettles of water were heating on the stove, and a washtub sat in the middle of the floor partially filled with water.

  “Good morning,” he said when he caught her staring at him. “You can eat whenever you want, after which you can take a bath. I heated some water for you. I figured you’d like a bath again—a real one. I’m going out to finish the sluice. When you’re ready, come on out and I’ll give you some pointers with that rifle.”

  She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I have to pan for more gold. I should do it every day.”

  “Yes, you should. But you did two days’ worth of work yesterday, so take today off. Do as I say. I give the orders until I’m gone, at least when it comes to how you should operate up here. I’m supposed to be teaching you, right?”

  “I’m supposed to be the boss. You’re just a guide.”

  “And I’m guiding you in how to pan for gold and how to survive. So do what I tell you.” He winked at her and then left.

  Harmony nibbled at some bacon and drank some coffee. Then she undressed and poured the hot water into the tub, easing herself into it. He was right. Her back and neck and shoulders ached. The warm water felt good. Maybe she would take a day off from panning at that. Besides, he was nearly through with the sluice. She could use that tomorrow and catch up.

  She sponged herself off, looking at her body and wondering what a man like Buck Hanner would think of it. Would he think she was pretty? Womanly? She scowled. Yes. She would miss him, but it was a good thing he would be going soon.

  She finished bathing and dressed, and soon the mountainside echoed with her own rifle shots. She struggled to ignore the pleasant warmth that moved through her when Buck had put his strong arms around her to show her how to hold the gun. Everything about him was strong and sure. That was not good. It made her forget how strong and sure she had to be. She must not let someone else be strong for her. That was dangerous.

  She practiced most of the day with the rifle, while Buck finished the sluice and chopped wood. The day grew warm, and he removed his shirt. She glanced sidelong at him occasionally as she reloaded her gun, catching the ripple of muscles as he chopped, the glisten of sweat on his tan skin. She still didn’t know what a man really looked like, not completely. Seeing Buck Hanner’s bare chest gave her mixed feelings. She was fascinated and frightened. She didn’t like the thought of a man’s hard muscles and bare skin against her body, yet there was a distinct animal quality about Buck Hanner that evoked desires she did not understand. There was a power about him. She felt that he knew exactly what to do with a woman, just as he knew exactly what to do about everything else. And that was all the more reason
to stay clear of him. Nothing and no one must control her, nor should anything or anyone interfere with her plans to become economically independent.

  The day passed quickly, and finally it became too dark to do any more shooting. Her neck and shoulders still ached, and now her arms as well, from holding the rifle. But her aim had vastly improved by the end of the day. She got up from where she sat and walked over to set up some woodchips for targets.

  “I’ll practice more tomorrow,” she called out to Buck, who set aside his axe. “It’s getting too dark.”

  “Agreed,” he answered. “Time for more cards, then bed.”

  Their eyes held a moment before she marched past him into the cabin. She sat down at the homemade table while Buck washed at the stream. He came inside then, still shirtless. She glanced at his broad, powerful shoulders, then quickly looked away.

  “I don’t feel like cards,” she told him. “I’m too tired.”

  “All right. Just go to sleep then. Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to use the sluice, and maybe we’ll do a little hunting. In a couple more days I’ll have to get going, Shortcake. Be thinking about anything you might want me to bring next time I come.”

  She nodded, suddenly wanting to cry. She didn’t want him to go. She was terrified of his leaving. It was like her parents abandoning her, like Brian leaving. They, too, had said they would come back. Now Buck Hanner was saying it. But would he? Probably not. No one else ever had. Buck would go, and she’d be alone…forever. She’d never even be able to find her way back, and she wouldn’t even have a horse to ride. She had to trust him to come back, or she would probably die on this mountain. Trust, how she hated the word! Leaving, she hated that word too! She swallowed back tears and went to her bed, lying down and curling up on the mattress they had fashioned out of clean blankets and feathers from the old mattress. She pulled a blanket over her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, Shortcake?” he asked. “You having second thoughts about staying up here alone?”

  She sighed deeply. “No,” she finally answered.

  “It’s only natural if you do,” he told her. He ran a hand through his thick, sandy hair. “Do you want me to stay longer, or do you want to go back with me? Nobody would blame you for either, Harmony.”

  “I’m not going back,” she said in a tired voice. “I’m not giving up. And there’s no sense you staying any longer than necessary. I have to be alone sometime, so what’s the difference?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to leave you here. I suppose you know that.”

  She met his eyes. “Why? I’m just another customer. You’ve left plenty of other miners up here.”

  “You damned well know what I mean, Harmony Jones. They aren’t seventeen-year-old girls who know nothing about survival in the mountains.”

  “You’ve taught me what I need to know. And some seventeen-year-olds are as mature as full-grown women. Anyway I’m too stubborn and unfriendly for any human or animal to get the better of me.”

  He grinned a little. “You’re probably right there. But I still don’t like it. Leaving you here will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  She was tempted to tell him that letting him leave would be the hardest thing she had ever done, but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to give him ideas. There was already too much hope in his eyes when he looked at her, too much admiration, too much desire. If she had been more mature she’d have realized that all of that added up to love, but love was something she’d had little of and did not fully understand, for love also meant trust, and she had learned to never trust.

  “Well, I’m just another miner like the others,” she told him. “So rest your conscience, Buck Hanner. Leaving me here is what I want and that’s that.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Just as sure as I am that I want to go to sleep now.”

  He sighed and stood up. “All right. I’ll see you in the morning, Shortcake.” He walked over and patted her head. “Sleep tight.”

  She watched him walk out, then turned over and wept. Why, she wasn’t even sure. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was loneliness. Perhaps it was even…love.

  The next two days were filled with panning, shooting, chopping wood, skinning and cleaning small animals, and long talks about the perils of living in the mountains, about safety precautions. Harmony learned to work the sluice. It was exciting to see how much more earth she could filter with the sluice than with a pan. Neither of them spoke about Buck’s leaving. Neither of them wanted to think about it, each secretly wishing they did not have to part, neither fully convinced it was right to stay or to go.

  Another day was spent just riding, exploring the side of the mountain on which Harmony Jones would spend many long months alone.

  “Watch out for places like that, especially in the spring.” He pointed out a rocky ledge. “At that time of year a good rain can bring down a lot of soil and rocks. Everything is already softened up from the melt. Fact is, this is a dangerous spot right now.” He rode farther into some pines. “Trees will protect you some if you do get caught in a rock slide. Try to get into a stand of trees. Brian did right building that shack where he did. There’s a shelf above it and the ground goes back a way before going up again. That ledge will protect you if anything does come sliding down.” He looked back at her. “And don’t be afraid of the thunderstorms. Up here they can sound pretty scary. You’re right in the clouds sometimes and the storm is beside you rather than above you. But it’s still just thunder and lightning and rain. Stay inside till it’s over, then be sure to check right away for signs of fire. If you see any signs of it, watch the wind, Shortcake. Don’t run into the wind, because the fire will be coming right on it. Run with the wind—and I mean run. If there’s no escape, get into some water, if you can find any, or lie flat in a creek.”

  He halted Indian and lit a cigarette. “Now, about bears,” he added. “You’ve got to keep your head if you see one. Do you know the difference between a regular black bear and a grizzly?”

  She patted Pepper’s neck. “I think so. Grizzlies have big humps on their backs. But if one was chasing me, I wouldn’t care if it was grizzly, brown or black. I’d be scared to death!”

  He grinned. “Well, never stray far from that shack without a rifle. If a bear chases you uphill, you’d better stand and shoot, and hope that if you miss, just the shot will scare it away. If it’s chasing you downhill, chances are you can outrun it. Most bears are very clumsy running down steep embankments. Remember that. You can almost always lose one that way, and if you’re headed downhill, you’re better off running than standing and shooting, because the bear will reach you too fast. A black bear will give up quicker than a grizzly. Grizzlies are more persistent. Keep fresh meat inside the shack, not outside where it can attract other animals. And if you ever see bear cubs, stay away from them, no matter how cute they look. I know how women are about soft, cuddly little things, but if you touch a bear cub, its mother will have you for supper. Remember that.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “You’ll probably end up making pets out of some of the small animals. There’s no harm in leaving food for the squirrels and such. You’ll welcome their presence after you’ve been alone long enough.”

  Their eyes held and she felt a rush of warmth. She looked away, turning her horse in another direction. Never had her emotions run so high or been so confused. It seemed a million thoughts and feelings were rushing through her, for although she did not want Buck Hanner to leave, she was excited about being alone here on a mountain, learning to fend for herself, facing a challenge few girls her age would even consider. She was anxious to prove to all of them at Cripple Creek that she could do this. But more important, she suddenly wanted to prove it to Buck. Deep inside she knew he would admire her more for trying this venture and for succeeding at it. If she went back now, Buck Hanner would be disappointed in her and she would be disappointed in herself. She c
ould not live now without knowing whether she could survive, and perhaps find a mother lode and become independently wealthy.

  “Maybe I’ll even have a rat for a pet,” she joked.

  “Maybe,” he answered with a light laugh. “You remember how to set those traps?”

  “Of course. I can shoot a Winchester and actually hit something. I can pan for gold and I can work a sluice. I can clean animals for eating and I can chop wood. I know enough to stay away from rocky hills and to remain inside when it storms, to watch for fires and run downwind of one, keeping to water. I know I should kill all the small game I can for food to preserve my canned supplies, and I know I should not leave raw meat outside, especially at night. I have plenty of bandages and whiskey and medicine, even some laudanum, in case I should be in a lot of pain. I know I must always stay calm and think rationally, that I should never leave the shack without my rifle. And I even know how to play poker against myself, and how to play solitaire and other card games.”

  She turned around and looked at him. “Maybe when I go back to Cripple Creek, I’ll sit in on some card games. Maybe I’ll even gamble against Wade Tillis and win some money from him. That would be fun.”

  Buck laughed. “I’d like to see that. But I wouldn’t like to see someone as nice as you sitting in a saloon gambling with men.”

  “Well, I’m doing everything else like a man.”

  He studied the round hips beneath the pants, as she sat straddled her saddle. The movement of Pepper made her hips sway sideways. “Maybe you live like a man, but you will never resemble a man in any other way,” he teased.

  She looked back, reddening slightly, not sure if she should smile or be angry. “I think that is supposed to be a compliment. If it is, I’ll accept it. But you’d better be careful how you talk, Buck Hanner.”

  He didn’t doubt that if he told her his true feelings and desires, she’d turn around and use her Winchester on him.