Rapture's Gold

by Rosanne Bittner

  She nodded and he left her, hurrying back outside. As Harmony watched him go, she realized how empty and horrible life would be without him. It would not be easy to let him leave. It would test her ability to conquer her fear of abandonment. If he came back this time, she’d never distrust him again, never be afraid again.

  For several more days they dug, picking out the best pieces of ore and filling several sacks. To their surprise and delight, Indian reappeared, and the reunion of man and horse was touching. Harmony was delighted for she knew Buck had been worried about his horse. And she was very relieved. Now he’d have an easier trip down. He could take more gold with him, and he’d get to Cripple Creek and back much faster. Still, her heart was heavy with apprehension. After having him with her for so long, she hated the thought of being without him. Her loneliness would be magnified now, but she could be here awhile longer, while it was still peaceful and just her own, before men came in to blow away the mountain.

  She was tense the night before he was to leave, unable to eat, unable to think of anything but Buck Hanner going away. He sat down on the bed and removed his boots and shirt.

  “Hey,” he called to her. He’d been watching her as she sat at the table, just staring at the floor. “Come over here, Shortcake.”

  She walked over to him, her head hanging, and he pulled her onto his lap. “You okay?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so.” She placed her arms around his neck. “Oh, Buck, I’ll miss you so!”

  He patted her back. “You’ve been up here a long time—too long. I’ll be glad when I get back to take you down from here. But while I’m gone, I’ll miss the hell out of you. You can bet I’ll be back damned fast, Harmony Jones. I don’t relish spending the nights away from you.” He kissed her cheek. “You trust me to come back, don’t you? No more doubts?”

  She met his eyes, so blue and loyal. “Yes.” Their eyes held, and in the next moment his mouth met hers and he was laying her back on the bed.

  “This is one night we won’t sleep much,” he told her, nuzzling her neck. “If we’re going to be apart, let’s make it a night to remember.”

  “Oh, Buck, it’s been so beautiful here,” she whispered. “Make love to me. Don’t stop making love to me!”

  She didn’t need to ask. He moved over her, savoring every part of her, his lips lingering, teasing, carrying her to the heights of ecstasy and passion, his lovemaking made more sweet by the knowledge that he was going away. Harmony felt she had to show him her love, to make him remember, make him come back out of sheer need of her; while Buck seemed to be equally determined to be sure she did not forget him. She sensed his fierce possessiveness as he moved over her, felt a hot branding as he surged inside of her, as though to say “This woman is mine and everyone had better know it!” She thought she’d already been to the heights and depths of lovemaking, but this was the most passionate night she had spent with him and by the wee hours of the morning her body was spent and exhausted. Yet it was a sweet exhaustion, a glorious weariness.

  They both slept soundly then, oversleeping, in fact, so that Buck had to rush around when they did wake up, for the sun was higher than he’d expected. He planned on covering a good many miles that first day.

  Harmony felt panicky. It was all happening too fast now. He was going! How she hated moments like this! They frightened her! He dressed and ate quickly, packed, saddled Indian, and was ready to go. She could do nothing but watch. Finally he swept her into his arms.

  “Stay close to the cabin, understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “And keep the rifle with you at all times.”

  “I will.”

  “No walks. No fishing. Don’t even dig or pan while I’m gone. Someone might catch you off guard, like those men did. I’ve got enough of a sample to get a good assay so there’s no sense in digging right now.”

  “I’ll just keep to the cabin.”

  “Good. Don’t take any chances. I’ll worry about you enough as it is. But I want to protect what’s yours, Harmony, and the best way to do that is to go back alone. I’m seen around all the time, taking other men’s samples in and all.”

  “But they know you’ve been with me.”

  “Yes, they do. But I saw plenty of others before I got up here, and I won’t go directly to the assayer’s office. It would arouse too much suspicion. As for my being up here this long, let them think what they want. To hell with them. I love you, Harmony Jones, and you’re going to be my wife. While I’m gone, think about what you want to do with the mine. When I get back, you’ll be registered as the owner of the bonanza and some of the land around it. What you do after that is up to you. Just promise me you’ll marry me, no matter what.”

  “You know I will, Buck. I love you.”

  He kissed her, over and over, both of them declaring their love. Then he could put off leaving no longer. Gently, he set her from him and mounted Indian, reaching down to tousle her hair.

  “Good-bye, Shortcake,” he told her, flashing his handsome grin.

  “Good-bye, Buck. Be careful!”

  “You do the same. Don’t worry about me. I plan to make good time, Harmony, so don’t be surprised if I’m back in eight days or so.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  He backed Indian, and she thought her heart might explode when he turned the horse and rode off, turning back once to look at her.

  “I love you!” he called out.

  “I love you!” she called back.

  He rode on then, soon disappearing into the thick pines.

  “Good-bye, Buck,” she whispered. “Please come back! Please, oh please, come back!” Memories of her parents waving good-bye flashed into her mind, followed by the memory of saying good-bye to Brian. None of them had come back. Now she was saying good-bye to the most important person in her life, the person she had dared to trust with her love and devotion—and a good share of her findings.

  She shook with fear of being deserted again, yet never had trusting someone been more important to her than now. She sat down on the cabin steps, while the wind moaned through the pines, a tiny girl on the side of a big mountain, her fear and loneliness knowing no bounds. She had wanted so much never to depend on anyone, but she knew that if Buck Hanner did not return she would not want to live. She would never love again, never smile again.

  She looked up at an eagle flying overhead, envying the huge bird its freedom from human feelings. Then she touched her belly. She didn’t know much about having babies, but she did know when a girl went six or eight weeks without flowing, it could mean she was pregnant; and she had not had her time for at least that long. Perhaps that had something to do with being so young and a virgin and then making love so often and with such intensity. But common sense told her otherwise. Common sense told her she might be carrying Buck Hanner’s child. She hadn’t told him. For some reason she’d been afraid he’d be angry about it. There were so many things about men that she still didn’t understand. Perhaps Buck didn’t want a child right away. He had so many other plans. She’d been afraid if she told him before he left, he might be angry and wouldn’t come back. Somehow she knew deep inside he’d never be angry about such a thing, yet her old fears prevented her from taking that chance. She’d tell him later, after he came back for her, after they were married. It would be different then. Buck wouldn’t care. There was plenty of time. She couldn’t be more than two months pregnant, and he’d be back in less than two weeks. There was no sense in burdening him with the news now. The most important thing was that he came back.

  The wind howled again, sounding almost like groaning voices, matching the loneliness and fear in her heart. She closed her eyes and her body moved spasmodically as she sobbed.

  “Oh, God, take care of him and bring him back!” she prayed, her words carried off by the groaning wind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eight days turned into ten. More snow melted, and it was April. Harmony told herself not to panic. Perhaps som
e small thing had gone wrong. Three weeks had gone by, and she was getting low on supplies. He would come. He’d had some kind of snag, but he would come—soon.

  When a month had gone by, her feelings drifted from terror to hurt to depression. No! Buck would not do this! Something had happened to him. Yes, that was it. He might have been hurt. Buck! Poor Buck! What in God’s name had gone wrong? Only something terrible would keep him from coming to her or sending a messenger. Maybe he was dead! No! How would she live without Buck Hanner? And what about the baby?

  She rested a hand on her stomach. She had no doubt now that she was pregnant, probably at least three months along, maybe more. Pregnant by Buck Hanner. Pregnant from those wonderful moments she’d lain naked beneath him, his woman, enjoying her man, giving and taking. Buck! Sweet, beautiful Buck. Surely he was dead. How would she live if that were so? What could have happened? An avalanche? A rock slide? Bandits wanting his gold? A hungry grizzly just coming out of hibernation, fierce and ornery? In this wild, savage land he could have been killed in a hundred ways.

  The ache in her soul was fierce, but she clung to the belief that he was dead or horribly wounded. Awful as that thought was, it was better than the fear that Buck Hanner had lied to her all along, that Buck Hanner had taken her gold and left, never having intended to marry her in the first place. Still, sometimes she wondered if he was using the gold to start the ranch he’d dreamed about.

  Surely such a thing could not be true! Not after all they’d been through together—all their talks, their sweet friendship, his love and protection. He’d risked his life for her, hadn’t he? But then a man would do a lot of things if he thought there was gold to be had. She could not forget the day he’d struck the vein, his excitement, his almost evil laugh at the thought of being richer than Wade Tillis. Surely though, if it was the gold, he’d stay with her and marry her, for then it would all be his, not just the nuggets he’d left with. But then, Buck was a drifter, perhaps he didn’t like the thought of being tied to one woman. Perhaps he had lied to her about Mary Beth. Perhaps there was another side to the story. But his eyes! Those blue eyes were so true and sincere when he spoke of her, and when he whispered words of love to Harmony.

  She had never been in such a fix. What was she to do? She couldn’t stay here forever. She was pregnant. How would she hide it once she got back to civilization? What would she tell people? She didn’t even know how she could get back there. She couldn’t walk all the way, not in her condition. Yet if she didn’t do something, she’d die of hunger. There were only a few cans of beans left, and a little flour.

  Terror gripped her. Again she felt abandoned. Was this her eternal fate, to be forever left behind, unloved, unwanted? Whether Buck was dead or had deserted her, no man would want her now. She was a spoiled woman. She was carrying Buck Hanner’s bastard child. And what of the child? She didn’t even want it! A child! What on earth would she do with a child?

  She felt as though she were going crazy. She knew she had to think, but she couldn’t. Nothing made sense without Buck. He’d become her whole world. She had severely broken her own rule of never depending on anyone but herself. She had dared to love and trust, and this was the result. The quiet loneliness of the mountain began to eat at her, and horrible visions of Buck riding away, laughing, floated through her mind. They alternated with visions of a grave with a marker that bore his name. What had taken him from her? If only she had gone with him that day! She no longer cared about the gold or the mother lode. Buck was gone, though he’d promised to come back. He’d never before broken a promise to her, only this time. Why?

  She began moving about as though in a daze. She must keep busy—dig out more gold and then walk down the mountain in the hope of finding Cripple Creek. She had only enough food left for a few days and a little for the trip. She was even low on ammunition. She decided to save what remained for her journey, in case a grizzly attacked her, and to shoot fresh game to eat.

  Yet why did she want to eat, to live? There was nothing to live for without Buck. The baby? She didn’t want the baby, not now. She might have wanted it if Buck had returned, for he’d have been happy to know she was giving him a child. Or would he? Maybe he didn’t want the responsibility. Maybe he’d only wanted the gold after all. If only she knew what had happened, she’d know whether to love or hate the baby. If Buck had been killed, she wanted the child, it would be a part of Buck Hanner; a little piece of Buck would go on living. But if Buck had deserted her, she couldn’t possibly love the child.

  She began to work frantically, feeling like a crazy woman. “Fill the bags! Take as much as you can carry or drag!” she told herself. “You can build some kind of travois to drag along instead of carrying everything on your back.” She worked hard—too hard. She didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t sleep. She didn’t like the things that floated through her mind when she tried to rest. Buck! Buck! God, how she had loved him, trusted him, and she needed him so. If only he would appear over the ridge. If only she could hear him call out to her. But day after day it was the same. No Buck. Only silence. She began to hate this place, to hate the ugly little cabin, to hate everything and everyone. The bitterness that was growing in her soul far surpassed what she had felt because of what her parents or Brian or Jimmie had done. This was worse than any other hurt she’d felt.

  But the day came, despite her youth, when overwork and the lack of food and rest took their toll. The pain gripped her just as she was undressing for bed, determined that this night she would get some rest, for she intended to leave in the morning. Her body buckled and she cried out, gripping her abdomen and barely managing to limp over to the bed.

  What was happening! She crawled onto the bed and eased the quilts over her body, shivering as pain slashed through her again. As she lay moaning, clad only in underwear and her shirt, she felt a wetness between her legs and pulled the covers back. Looking down, she saw blood staining her legs and her underclothing.

  The baby! Something was wrong. She was losing it! “No!” she screamed aloud. Terrified, she wondered if she would die. She did not know how to stop the bleeding.

  “Buck!” she screamed, long and loud. “My God, where are you? Where are you?”

  Then she fell into bitter weeping, interspersed with groans provoked by terrible pain. For most of the night she writhed in pain and terror and aloneness. By morning it was done. The life Buck Hanner had spilled into her had spilled back out of her, lifeless. Yet its very tiny shape could not be mistaken. Remembering Becky’s miscarriages, Harmony massaged her stomach, not sure why, only knowing that it was supposed to be done. More strange nothings came out of her.

  She was in a trance now, feeling only hate for the world and everything in it, including herself. This was her fault. She hadn’t wanted the baby, so God had taken it from her. This was her punishment, and she deserved it. Why she was doomed to a life of loneliness, she didn’t know, but apparently that was the case. She wrapped herself in towels, noting that her body was thinner now, too thin. She was weak, so weak! She managed to get off the bed, and taking another towel, she carefully wrapped it around the lifeless object that had come out of her. That done she sobbed pitifully. It wasn’t fair that her own hatred and bitterness had been directed at this little thing that would have been her baby. And she knew in that moment that Buck Hanner had been right about one thing: if she had a baby, she’d love it beyond measure. She would not forget her guilt over causing this child’s life to end before it could even begin. Now that it was too late, she realized that she had wanted it, more than anything she’d ever wanted. But she could not have it.

  How long she cried, she wasn’t certain. She wondered if she would ever stop, for she was weeping for more than the lost baby. She wept for her own desolation, and for Buck, her mind reeling with a mixture of love and hate. If he’d simply left her, then what she had just gone through was all his fault. Was this why Becky had begun to lose her love for Brian? How many times could a woman go through this pa
in for nothing without resenting the man who put the life in her belly in the first place? Still, if Buck were dead, she’d have wanted that child.

  She carefully laid the wrapped object on the table, so weak she could barely stand up. It must be buried. But how was she to do it? She looked back at the bloody bed. She didn’t even have the strength to clean it up. She simply removed the blanket that had been under her; it took all her strength just to do that. Then she put down one of the top quilts. She would lie on that, although it would mean one less quilt to cover herself with, and she was cold—so cold. She glanced at the door. She had not latched it the night before. She had intended to, until the pain hit her. Now she didn’t have the strength to walk over and bolt it. What did it matter anyway? She almost hoped a man or a wild animal would come inside and kill her. Death would be better than what she was going through. She crawled under the quilts and soon fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Harmony awoke to a hand on her shoulder. She was groggy and weak. Perhaps everything that had happened had been a horrible nightmare. “Buck?” she groaned.

  “No, honey. It’s me—Hank Fisher.”

  She turned and slowly opened her eyes. Hank’s chest pounded with fear. She looked terrible! She was so thin and pale, and there were such dark circles under her eyes!

  “You sick, Harmony?”

  She blinked, reality beginning to sink in. “Buck!” she whimpered, her eyes welling with tears. “Where’s Buck?”

  Hank frowned. How could he tell her what he thought? He’d found it hard to believe himself. He’d figured he’d known Buck Hanner well, had thought him a dependable man. That day Hank had visited Harmony Jones’s place and had seen Buck and Harmony together, they had seemed to be so in love. Buck had even been wounded when he’d risked his life to save her.

  “He…he ain’t here, little girl,” Hank replied. “I got to worryin’ about you two, wonderin’ about ya. When I went down to town them months back, I brung a mule back with me on account of I decided I’d mine a little more through the rest of the winter, then head back to Cripple Creek and sell my claim for what I could get. I’ve been away from civilization much too long. When I went on down to Cripple Creek I heard Buck had been there and gone, but not you. The whole town’s been wonderin’ about ya, so I come up here to see what was what. I…uh…I thought I might find Buck here,” he lied.