No Greater Treasure

by Amy Lillard

  “Will you still escort me?” she asked. The water was cooling, and it wouldn’t be long before it became less than pleasant.

  “If that is what you wish.”

  “It is.”

  “Then it shall be.”

  She heard the slosh of the water from his side of the door and felt heat rise into her face. They were so close to each other but so far away at the same time. She couldn’t see his face. How easy it would be to tell him of her feelings. And then what? Have him stay in California? Return with him to Texas? She wasn’t sure she belonged in either place.

  The realization slammed into her. Her eyes flew open. How could she not belong in California? That was where Nelson lived. Where they would live together after they married.

  Because she was too scared to tell Jed how she felt about him?

  No. Because she had already made the commitment to Nelson. They had been talking about getting married for years. Now that the time had come, she couldn’t walk away from him. It...it...well, that sort of behavior wasn’t proper. She had made a promise and she would see it through. Whether she felt she belonged in California or not. Even if she had fallen in love with another man.

  Besides, she didn’t know how Jed felt. He might see her as a little sister. He had mentioned having someone back home, a girl who had possibly married another. If he still had feelings for her...

  “Birdie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just making sure you weren’t asleep.”

  “Or drowned?” she teased.

  “That either.” He paused, but somehow she knew that he would continue so she waited. “I think we should go check on Lin Sing tomorrow.”

  “Why? Have you heard something?”

  “No,” he assured her. “Just O’Neil’s talk has me thinking.”

  “We can go,” she replied. “Of course we can go.”

  “And will you go with me to take the letter to the stagecoach office?”

  “Of course,” she said. “We’ll make a day of it.”

  “Ready?” Jed asked the first thing the following morning.

  Birdie had dressed, eaten breakfast by herself, then met Jed in the lobby as they had planned the night before. She had to say that it was a little strange to ignore the fact that Jed was eating a mere two tables over, but she had buried her nose in the newspaper and concentrated on her eggs and not how close he was or how handsome he looked.

  “Ready,” she confirmed, offering him her elbow.

  “I thought we’d go see about Lin Sing first,” Jed offered.

  “Perfect.”

  And it described the day as well. The sky was blue, the sun shining, and a light wind swept away the heat. She was on the arm of a kind and handsome man (never mind that he wasn’t her fiancé and never would be) and they were on their way to meet a friend.

  Perfect. Well, almost.

  They strolled through the town arm in arm, taking note of certain stores and establishments along the way. But the longer they walked the...less fantastic the town became. Brightly painted store front facades gave way to less elaborate buildings with crooked signs and warped steps. Here the buildings were jammed closer to one another, squatting together as if plotting against those around them. Then finally the wooden buildings turned into shabby tents. Strings of chickens, rabbits and other creatures hung outside on lines that stretched from one stake to the next. Steam and smoke rose from large pots sitting on equally large fires.

  “Laundry,” Jed explained unnecessarily. But he pulled her a little closer all the same.

  Birdie tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. She had faced all sorts of creatures, furry and otherwise, on the mountain, thieves, men who wanted more than gold, and even murderers. Somehow this was more unnerving to her. Perhaps because this...camp was so close to the capital of California. Surely that had to mean something!

  “Do you know where he is?” Jed asked.

  Birdie shook her head, mutely, then appreciating he might not have been looking at her, she found her voice. “No.” She didn’t know where he was, but she had never imagined that he was in a place like this.

  And she realized then that all the faces peeking out from the tents, all the men stirring the bubbling pots, all the women bustling along, everyone was Chinese.

  “I suppose this is it, though.”

  Jed nodded, his mouth grim. “We’ll look around a little I suppose.”

  Birdie wasn’t sure that was the best idea but saw no other solution other than asking someone. The staring faces weren’t menacing, but they weren’t friendly either. Mistrustful, that was the word.

  “Bird,” a familiar voice called.

  Birdie melted with relief. “Lin Sing?” She spun around to face her friend.

  “Jed Evans,” Lin Sing greeted with a bow. “Why you here?”

  “We came to check on you,” Birdie explained. “I haven’t heard from you since we arrived and—” She broke off her words as Lin Sing started to shake his head.

  “You shouldn’t have come here, Bird,” he said.

  Jed cleared his throat as if to remind the man that he had been with Birdie the whole time, but Lin Sing was not impressed.

  “Come,” he said. He took Birdie by the other elbow and started to urge her back in the direction that they had come. Then he suddenly turned her loose as if her skin was blazing hot under his fingers. He shooed them back toward the edge of the camp. He didn’t stop until they were almost back to the mercantile.

  “You don’t come here, Bird.” Lin Sing’s tone brooked no argument. “Not even with Jed Evans. It’s not safe. You stay here.”

  “If it’s not safe, why are you staying there?”

  “Safe for me, not for Bird.”

  That didn’t make any sense at all. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but the words were never spoken.

  “You shouldn’t be there either,” Jed broke in.

  “It where all the Chinaman are. I Chinaman; so there I be.”

  That was ridiculous as well, but Birdie didn’t have time to say so before Jed spoke again.

  “Surely you can—”

  Lin Sing shook his head. “No, Jed Evans. This is how world works, yes? Live here free, live there as servant.”

  No! Birdie wanted to holler, but Lin Sing was right. That was how the world worked. At least the civilized world. Maybe being in the mountains wasn’t all that bad after all...

  “What will you do?” she asked instead. She understood. As much as she hated it, she couldn’t blame Lin Sing for wanting to live as a free man and not a rich man’s valet. But the part she couldn’t get over was that she had forced him to this. He had come down from the mountain for her. If she had stayed up there...

  “Railroad.” He gave a decisive nod, but she could see the clouds in his eyes.

  “No,” she whispered. “I’ve heard some awful things about the railroad working conditions.” The paper only talked about the progress that was made both in the building and linking the two parts of the country, but she had heard darker tales. Not that anyone told her of such horrors outright, but she wasn’t above eavesdropping to gain information. Not when it concerned one of her friends.

  “It what we do,” Lin Sing continued.

  “I’ll give you more money.” She had offered him half of the proceeds from the mine but he had only accepted a token. Somehow she had gotten the impression without him outright telling her that abundant wealth went against his beliefs and she had dropped the matter entirely, but now...

  “No.” He shook his head. “Go back to the hotel, Bird. Be safe.” He bowed as if to take his leave.

  “Don’t do anything rash, Lin Sing,” she called after him.

  He didn’t acknowledge her words.

  “Do you think he heard me?” she asked Jed.

  “Yes,” he grimly replied. “What are you going to do?”

  She took in a deep breath, straightened her bodice and exhaled. “I’ll talk to Nelson. Surely there’s somet
hing he can do. Perhaps he can offer him a job in the mercantile.”

  But they both knew that wasn’t happening. Lin Sing was Chinese and wouldn’t be welcomed there.

  Once again mountain living was looking better than it ever had before.

  “We can skip the stagecoach office if you’d like to go lie down,” Jed offered.

  Birdie’s face had a pinched look that he had never seen before. She was worried about her friend. Truth was, he was worried about Lin Sing as well. There had to be something they could do to keep the man from joining a railroad crew. It was as good as a death sentence if the rumors were true. Most times such tales were exaggerated but even then, they didn’t want their friend working and living in those conditions.

  And that’s what he was. Lin Sing was their friend. It didn’t matter a hill of beans to either of them that he was Chinese. He had fought alongside them to get the gold down the mountain. He had eaten with them, slept side by side with them, even kept watch to protect the camp. He had done everything Jed and Birdie had done, maybe even more, yet when they got back to town he was only welcomed as a lower-class citizen. How unfair!

  “No,” Birdie said. “I’m fine. And it’s important we get that letter to your mother so she knows that you’re coming home.”

  Were those real clouds in her eyes or shadows from above? Yet the sky was clear. So why dd she so suddenly appear a bit sad? Jed didn’t ask. It was probably Lin Sing crossing her thoughts again.

  They walked back to the stagecoach office in silence. Jed figured they both had a lot to think about and when Birdie was ready to discuss what was on her mind, she would. And not until then.

  The same man was behind the counter in the little barred cell when Jed and Birdie entered the office. The man nodded to Jed, recognizing him.

  “I have that letter to send now,” Jed told him. Jed took the letter from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to the man.

  He accepted it, studied the writing on the outside, then turned to Jed. “You Jed Evans?”

  “I am.”

  “Got something for you here. Been here a couple of days. Didn’t know who you was yesterday or I’d give it to you then.” He handed Jed an envelope, then started recording the details of the letter Jed wanted to send.

  “Would you like me to read it to you?” Birdie asked.

  He nodded and handed it to her. Together they stepped out of the office for a measure of privacy. Not that there was any on the bustling sidewalk, but at least they weren’t in a small stagecoach office. He didn’t know who the letter was from or what it said, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good. Who would be writing him here?

  “It’s from Ginny Crabtree,” Birdie said.

  “She used to be Ginny Jacobs.”

  Birdie nodded in that understanding way of hers then opened the letter, careful not to tear the envelope any more than necessary. He noticed that her fingers trembled a bit.

  It seemed to take forever for her to unfold the missive and start to read. She did so silently at first, her eyes filling with tears. He wanted her to hurry up, he wanted her to fold the letter back to rights and toss it into the muddy street. He had to know what it said, and he didn’t want to all in the same breath.

  “What?” he croaked.

  She took a deep breath. “Dearest Jed,” she read. “I hope this letter finds you well. I was so aggrieved to hear about Toby. I know the two of you were closer than average brothers. May his joy in life be a comfort to you in this time of loss.

  “I’m sorry to say that I am writing with more bad news. Your mother took a fever last month and died shortly after. It may be a comfort to you to know that she didn’t linger and didn’t suffer. She went quietly and peacefully in her sleep.

  “Since several unsuccessful attempts were made to find you, the bank took back the ranch and have since sold it to another family. Enclosed is the check for the remainder of the funds after fees and whatnot have been subtracted.

  “I know the words are empty, but all I can say is how sorry I am and how much I pray for you to have peace and happiness. May you find it wherever you may be.

  “All my best.

  “Ginny Crabtree.

  “Oh, Jed.” The letter crumpled between their hands as Birdie grabbed his fingers in her own grasp.

  He squeezed back when what he really wanted to do was pull her close and let her absorb some of the pain he was feeling. He needed her in that moment like he had never needed anyone before.

  And yet she belonged to another.

  He pulled his fingers away. “Thank you, Birdie.”

  “What will you do now?” she asked.

  He took the letter from her, folded it up and placed it back into the envelope with the check. It wasn’t a fortune, but enough to buy passage back to Texas. But there was nothing there for him. “I’m going back into the office and tell the man that he doesn’t need to send the letter after all. Then I may go to the saloon and drink the afternoon away.”

  “It’s still morning,” Birdie reminded him.

  “The day then.” He had never been much of a drinker, but perhaps it was time to start.

  She smiled at him, partially indulgent, partially encouraging. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “This is your better idea?” Jed asked as they stepped from the bright midmorning sun into the cool, dim interior of the little chapel.

  Birdie nodded, proud of herself for actually getting him into a church. She knew he would come with a little encouragement. He had God in his heart; he just needed reminding that He was there. “We should pray for your mother.”

  “And Toby,” he said, swallowing hard.

  “Yes. And my father.” She ducked her head a little closer to him so only he could hear. Not that it was necessary; they were the only ones in the little chapel. “And give the mine and the gold to the priest.”

  He blinked at her. “All of it?”

  She nodded. “Well, most of it. I don’t want it.”

  “I understand that, but I thought—”

  “That I would still keep it.”

  He nodded. “A little, yeah. Well, more than a little, I suppose.”

  “I don’t need the money. I have God; the gold can get in the way.”

  “Camel through the eye of a needle and all that?”

  “A little, I guess, but more that too much money blinds us to blessings.”

  He turned his head thoughtfully to one side. “I never thought about it like that.”

  She shrugged. It was all she had been able to think about since she slipped and fell into the mine. She had injured herself, almost killed herself and all she had been thinking about were the blessings that she had never gotten around to thanking the Lord for. She had prayed all through the time she had been trapped half underground, vowing that she wouldn’t let those times pass her by ever again.

  They each lit two candles—two for Toby and Jed’s mother, the other two for her parents—then they slipped into the back pew and sat down next to each other.

  “I’ve missed this,” she whispered to him. At his perplexed look, she continued. “Coming to church.”

  “I would think—” he started but she didn’t let him finish.

  “Yes, yes, but it’s different when you can come and sit in the house just for the Lord. I’m not explaining it very well, but it’s different for me. Can’t you feel it? When you came in, didn’t the air change? The atmosphere shifted. Once you walked through the door, it was all about God.”

  She could tell from the look on his face that he had never thought about it. Not even once, but now that she was bringing it up...

  “I lost my faith,” he said.

  “I know you think you have,” she returned. “It’s still there.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not.” He stared at his hands for a moment, just resting there in his lap. “I’m not like you. I’ve hurt too many people, people I love, people who trusted me. I’ve done too many wrongs. I don’t hav
e a bunch of gold to give to buy back my salvation.”

  She turned to look at him. “Is that what you think this is all about? Buying salvation? You can’t buy salvation.” She hadn’t realized how loud her voice had become until it echoed off the cool stone walls. She also hadn’t realized that she had risen to her feet. She eased back onto the pew and glared at him. “You know as well as I do that you don’t buy your salvation. And nothing is too astray to make God turn His back on you.”

  “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “I don’t need to know. Because I know God and that’s not how He works. You would too, if you quit telling yourself how unforgiveable you are and simply allowed his forgiveness to cleanse you.” This time she stood with a purpose. “The most amazing thing,” she continued, “was that I thought I was fall—that maybe there could be something betwe—I mean, you are a decent and honest man. No one can convince you of that. It’s something you have to believe for yourself. And until you do...well, I guess we don’t have anything more to say to one another.”

  She lifted the hem of her skirt and side-walked her way to the other side of the pew and out into the too-bright California sunshine.

  Jed remained in his seat as Birdie left. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to explain, but he didn’t really. If he told her how he had failed Toby she wouldn’t look at him the same way again. He had told her most of the story, but only enough that she would understand how much his brother meant to him. Not the entire story. He hadn’t been able to think about it at all, not since it had happened. And admitting it, well, that wouldn’t take his guilt away, nor the horrible thing he had done. All in the name of love.

  And it would surely make Birdie view him with mistrust in her eyes.

  So he’d let her go.

  He had known he would have to eventually, but not so soon, not quite yet. Maybe it was better this way.

  “My son...”

  Jed looked up as a priest came down the aisle toward him.

  “My son,” he said again. “Can I help you?”