After a pause, he said, “I haven’t had pancakes in a long time. Do you know how to make those?”
“Those are easy. I’ll have those ready in no time.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she went back to the cabin and made breakfast. She had opened the window so it wouldn’t get hot in the little cabin.
When she was done, she changed into a shirt and a pair of pants. She added a pair of old leather boots to the ensemble then left the cabin to tell Carl breakfast was ready. Thankfully, he wouldn’t wonder what she was doing with such an odd assortment of clothes. She had everything from what an older boy would wear to regular clothes pioneer women had to that fancy dress a wealthier woman would own. Then she had that blonde wig.
Certainly, he had to know she had done something terrible to need so many disguises. She only hoped he was able to trust her enough to know she would share the gold with him. She wasn’t going to run off with everything they found. That was, of course, if they did find as much gold as he was hoping for.
This time when she reached the barn, she found Carl sitting on a stool by one of the stalls. He was staring straight ahead of him, seeming to be lost in thought.
“Carl?” she asked.
He jerked and looked at her.
She offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready.”
He hesitated for a moment then rose to his feet.
Since he didn’t say anything, she waved for him to follow her. She wondered if it would always be this awkward between them. Probably. She had so many things to hide, and he had shadows in his own past. There was no way they could enjoy a close relationship. They would just have to make the best of things as they were.
“I didn’t see any syrup to put on the pancakes,” she began as they made their way to the cabin, “so I put some sugar into the batter and put berries on them. You can take the berries off if you want.”
“I like berries. I picked them off some bushes.”
“Berries grow out here?”
His steps slowed as he pointed to the south. “The trees down there are the best for picking berries. There aren’t any poisonous ones to worry about, so you can gather any that you want.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll have to do that sometime.”
Unable to think of anything else to say, she grew quiet and led him to the cabin. Once there, she poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat across from him at the little table. The cabin was really only big enough for two people. She didn’t know if one of his goals had been to have children with his first wife, but it would be difficult to fit more than a young child and two adults in here.
If his first wife had had a child, then would he have added another room to the cabin? The child would eventually grow to the point where more room would be needed. Did he even consider these things with his first wife? It didn’t matter, she supposed. He hadn’t had any children with her, so the space worked well enough.
It was just hard to imagine anyone being married without children coming along. Between her and her three brothers, her father had often commented that all he had to do was look at her ma and another little one would be on the way.
Forcing her mind off of the past, she cut into her two pancakes. She never could eat more than two at a time, even without syrup.
She glanced at Carl who was eating the meal with surprising gusto. The poor man must have been starving. Why didn’t he tell her he was hungry? Why did he wait for her to come out to the barn and ask him what he wanted? Maybe he was patient. Her brothers wouldn’t have been that patient, but maybe Carl wasn’t like them.
“Did I make enough pancakes?” she asked. “I can make more if you want.”
He shook his head. After he swallowed his food, he said, “No, this is enough. It’s just that it’s been a long time since I had anything this good.”
He didn’t look at her as he spoke, and she suspected he was embarrassed. Not that he should be. He’d just paid her a nice compliment, after all. “Thank you,” she replied. “It’s my ma’s recipe. My pa used to swear by it.” Then, hoping to ease some of the discomfort between them, she added, “I’m glad you like it.”
She smiled, but it went unnoticed since he still didn’t look at her. She might have taken offense had she not picked up on the way the fork shook ever so slightly in his hand. He was afraid. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she might have said or done at any point since they met that would make him afraid of her.
Maybe he was afraid she would mention last night. He’d specifically asked her not to. Given how difficult it’d been for him, she could certainly understand why he’d be nervous she might find him lacking in bed. Even though she had been a virgin, she knew things were supposed to be better than that.
She wanted to assure him that she wasn’t going to say anything about the previous night, but then, that would mean she’d have to mention it. So really, there didn’t seem to be anything she could say or do to make him feel at ease with her. The only thing she could do was ignore the issue.
Well, maybe she could also talk about something that he was interested in. She finished a forkful of pancakes then said, “I’m looking forward to learning how to pan for gold. Is it hard?”
He drank some of his coffee then set the cup down. “It’s hard to find enough gold to do much with, but the process of panning isn’t hard. It can be tiring. If you’re not used to it, your arms can get sore because you’re swirling the black sand from the gold flakes. Most of the time, I gather a couple loads of dirt from the stream and work on finding some gold either by the stream or in the barn.”
“Doesn’t it get heavy to carry all that dirt out of the stream?”
“No. I use a classifier to get rid of the rocks.”
“A classifier?” she asked.
“It’s easier to explain if I can show it to you, but a classifier is a strainer that captures the big rocks so only the smaller material gets into the pan. I’ll show you the process when we’re at the stream.”
“It sounds like this will be fun.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it fun. When I first got here, I thought there was gold all over the place in that stream. Over the years, I realized that wasn’t the case. It feels more like a chore than something I do to have a good time.”
“How long have you been panning?”
“Fifteen years.”
Fifteen years? And he was still trying to find gold in the stream? Shouldn’t he have been able to find a sufficient amount of gold by now if there was as much there as he believed?
As if he could read her mind, he explained, “I don’t pan in the winter, and the winters can be long out here. I own twenty acres’ worth of stream, and I still have some left to pan. My father swore up and down there is a lot of gold there.” After a moment, he sighed. “He might have been wrong. There might not be anything more than enough to get me through each winter, but I need to find out for sure.”
Hope. Hope was what compelled him to keep looking. At least he was willing to work for it. That in itself was an admirable trait. And it only further demonstrated how patient he was. It was a shame her brothers had never developed that trait.
“I look forward to helping you find whatever is there,” she said. Anything was better than trying to get money through dishonest means. “I’m not afraid of hard work as long as it’s honest work.”
His eyebrows furrowed, and before he could ask her why she’d phrase things that way, she stood up and collected their plates.
“I’ll wash these while you get everything ready for panning,” she said then went to the bucket to wash them.
Chapter Five
Carl set the wheelbarrow full of panning supplies down by the stream and glanced over at Juliet, who was wearing a man’s shirt neatly tucked into a pair of pants that fit her well enough to make him think she’d made them for herself. He’d never seen a woman wear s
uch attire. Lydia wouldn’t have been caught dead in such clothes, much less braids. His mother most certainly wouldn’t have looked like that, and from his memory of Boston, none of those women did, either.
He’d been raised to expect better than this from a woman he was married to. His father had been very pleased with Lydia when she stepped off the stagecoach. Now there’s a refined lady, his father had told him.
The very fact that Juliet was not as refined as she’d been dressed yesterday was a relief. The fact that she didn’t have red hair was even better. He had been surprised to learn she’d worn a blonde wig, but he figured she had a good reason for it. She was probably on the run from something. For all he knew, she was an outlaw. Why else would there be all those different clothes to help disguise herself?
Honestly, he didn’t care. After spending ten long years with Lydia, Juliet couldn’t be any worse. Besides, one thing Lydia had taught him was knowing when someone was lying to him. Juliet hadn’t lied. At least not yet. Maybe she would in the future, but he’d know it when she did, and he’d deal with it then.
Up to now, she’d been upfront about not wanting him to ask her about her past, and he could honor that, especially since she hadn’t mentioned his poor performance in bed. As long as she refrained from letting him know what a disappointment he was, he would do anything she wished. Whatever the wig and odd clothes were about, that was her business.
Turning his attention to the panning supplies, he told her, “I brought enough for you and me, but I want to show you what to do before you start in on this.”
“Alright,” she replied.
“I should warn you that the water will be cold,” he added. “In the heat of summer, it feels good, but the days are cooler now so it won’t be comfortable.”
“I don’t mind cold water on my feet. It’s better than trying to bathe in it.”
Was she joking, or had she bathed in cold water before? He glanced over at her and saw her give out a slight chuckle. She could be joking. Of course, she could be laughing because she was recalling a time she’d actually immersed her entire body in cold water.
Either way, he figured she was in a happy mood, and he supposed that was the important thing. It was much better to have someone willing to do this with him than feel like he had to argue with someone so he’d have help. Lydia had pressed him so often about finding gold that he’d actually demanded she help him with the panning. The whole time, all she did was complain and scold him for not being able to do it on his own.
The afternoon hadn’t been enjoyable for either one of them, and he hadn’t insisted she help him after that. Panning had been one of the few things he could do in peace and quiet, and he didn’t care to ruin it by having her with him.
He could only hope Juliet’s good mood would continue through the rest of the morning. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind the help.
“We won’t spend a lot of time down here today,” he said, thinking it might keep her in a positive mindset. “When the water is this cold, I gather about half a bucket’s worth of pay dirt and take it to the barn. Then I sift through it.”
“Pay dirt?” she asked.
“It’s what is left over after I strain out the rocks. You’ll see what I mean as we do this.”
One thing his father had been right about was the fact that there was no better way to learn how to pan for gold than to actually do it. He waved her over to the wheelbarrow and waited until she was next to him before he pointed out each item he’d brought.
“I don’t always bring a shovel,” he said, “but since I have your help, I thought things might go faster if I used something bigger than a spade.” Since he had brought a spade, too, he added, “I did bring a spade, but the shovel will help me get deeper into the bends in the stream. Any place where the current is slower is more likely to have gold in it.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Gold is heavy. It’ll sink to the bottom, and it often settles around the larger rocks. So we want to focus our attention to those areas in the stream. Sometimes gold will get into the cracks of rocks. That’s why I bring a screwdriver. In case I find any gold flakes, I also have a small bottle to put them in.” He motioned to both items. Then he motioned to the classifier. “We talked about that already.”
“Yes. I remember.”
Good. She’d actually been paying attention to what he’d told her during breakfast. This was yet another difference between her and Lydia. A much appreciated difference.
“I also brought a small pail and two large buckets,” he continued. “We’ll use the small pail to dump the dirt into, then we’ll use the classifier to strain the rocks out, and we’ll put the pay dirt into one of the buckets. I’ll put water into the other bucket. Then we can work on sifting the gold out by the barn.” His gaze went to the trees surrounding them. “It’s warmer when you’re sitting directly in the sun.”
He studied her expression, wondering if he’d overwhelmed her, but she seemed to understand everything so far.
“Well, I suppose we’ll get started,” he said. “But we’ll need to take off our boots and socks first.”
He removed his boots and socks and rolled his pants up to his knees. She, in turn, followed suit. He honestly didn’t think there was anything he really cared to look at on the female body besides a woman’s breasts. Breasts, after all, were noticeably soft and round, and they enhanced a woman’s figure. But he had to admit the slender curve of Juliet’s legs had a certain appeal to them.
He hadn’t bothered focusing on them the previous night. His mission had been to get things over with as soon as possible, and watching the movement of her breasts during lovemaking was the quickest way to ensure climax. Even with Lydia, it was possible to get the task done if he could look at her breasts. Not that he had enjoyed anything else about the whole thing. The climax itself wasn’t all that satisfying because he was so inadequate at the whole thing. But the breasts were not his to control, and because of that, they were safe to focus on.
He blinked away the thoughts and turned his attention to the contents in the wheelbarrow. He loved panning for gold. He might not get a lot of gold while doing it, but gold never criticized his methods. Panning was a peaceful and relaxing activity. He would not let anything spoil it, and thinking of the bed while panning would definitely ruin this for him.
He put the small bottle, spade, screwdriver, classifier, and pail into the larger bucket. Then he picked the bucket up and grabbed the shovel. Turning back to her, he asked, “You mind carrying the other bucket?”
She shook her head and reached for it. “No, I don’t mind.”
As he led the way to the stream, he called out, “Watch where you’re walking. Some rocks jut out of the ground, and they’ll hurt if you step on them. You also don’t want to step on a snake.”
He wasn’t all that surprised when she asked, “How many snakes do you have through here?”
“I see one a couple times a year.” Noting her grimace, he added, “Most are harmless, and if you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Have you stepped on any?”
“No. But then, I pay attention to where I’m walking.”
She nodded, and her gaze went to the path in front of her.
He couldn’t help but smile. She was noticeably apprehensive, but she wasn’t letting it stop her from panning. Who knew? Maybe she had what it took to pan for gold, after all.
When they reached the stream, he stepped in first then told her, “You can leave the bucket there. I won’t need it until it’s time to head back to the cabin.”
She did as he suggested and followed him as he searched for a good location to dig. “The water is colder than I thought it’d be.”
“Do the streams in Texas ever get cold?”
“Yes, but I lived where it was warm most of the time.”
“Well, it will get a lot colder than this before the year is over.” He scanned the water around them and used the shovel to poi
nt to a good spot. “You see that bend where those two large rocks are?”
She followed his gaze then nodded.
“We’ll dig over there.” He led her over to it. After he set the bucket and shovel down, he gestured to the water’s current. “It’s slower right around these rocks.” He then motioned to the current outside the bend. “It’s faster there. You want to be where it’s slower because your chances of getting gold are better.”
“Because the gold is heavy,” she replied.
“Yes, and because of the rocks.” He took the small bottle, the spade, the screwdriver, and the classifier out. “Were you good in school?”
“Pardon?”
“I just wondered if you were good in your studies. You do a good job of paying attention when someone is teaching you something.”
She smiled, and a slight blush graced her cheeks. “Thank you. I only went to school up to the third grade. All I know is how to read and do basic arithmetic.”
Her family must not have come from money. Otherwise, she would have been better educated. Which begged the question: where had she gotten such an expensive dress and wig? Forcing the question aside, he handed her the small bottle, the spade, and the classifier.
“The first thing I like to do is check the large rocks for any cracks,” he said.
He leaned forward and moved a couple of them, searching them over. He found one with a decent crack in it and pulled it out of the water. Returning to her side, he showed her the crack in the rock.
“This is where the screwdriver comes in handy,” he explained. He proceeded to carefully slide the screwdriver into the crack, but he was only able to dig out dirt. “That’s what I typically find, but you saw how I did it. Do you want to try it?”
“Sure.”
He put the rock back into the water and exchanged items with her. She went over to the bend and searched the rocks he hadn’t been through yet. The rock she chose was stuck too far into the dirt, so he helped her pry it up with a spade.
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