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A Treasure Concealed

Page 7

by Tracie Peterson


  She didn’t so much as blink. “You aren’t here by mistake or chance, Caeden. I’ve been praying in earnest to meet the man who would marry my Emily. I’ve asked God to let me meet him and know him before I die, and I haven’t much time.”

  “But you can’t think that it’s me.” He wanted more than anything to convince her she was wrong. He found Emily quite charming and beautiful, but he wasn’t the right man for her. She wanted a home and a place to plant flowers. She wanted a fence, for pity’s sake. He couldn’t bear the idea of returning to such a life. At least not in Albany, New York, where everyone expected him to return and settle down.

  “Caeden, I know you’ve endured a great deal in your life. I can see that in your eyes.” She patted his hand. “We all have burdens we bear and pain that has left us fearful of living life. But God has a plan for you. He brought you here for a reason, and I believe that reason is Emily. Why don’t you try talking to Him and see if you don’t find that to be true?”

  He didn’t want to tell her that such an idea terrified him right down to his boots. He swallowed, but his throat was dry and gave him no relief. “I doubt God would listen to me. He hasn’t exactly stayed close.” It was all he could bring himself to admit.

  “God never is the one who walks away, Caeden. Only we can do that. Jesus promised to never leave or forsake us. Unfortunately, we can leave and forsake Him. I think if you take a good hard look at the situation, you’ll find it’s an easy walk back. He’s waiting there for you, and I know He’ll give you the answers you need.”

  Caeden heard the cabin door open and Henry Carver’s whistling. “Sounds like your husband has come back.” Caeden got to his feet and let go of his hold on Mrs. Carver’s hand.

  “You promised to hear me out, and I appreciate you keeping your word. Could you please promise me one more thing?” she asked.

  He didn’t want to promise her anything, but at this point he didn’t know what else to do. “I’ll try.”

  “Just give God a chance. If you take yourself back to Him and talk it out, I know He’ll show you the way. He has a lot of mercy and tenderness for His children.”

  “He didn’t seem to have much for my mother.” Caeden’s bitter tone echoed in the tiny room. “She lived in a loveless marriage to a violent man, always hoping for that mercy and tenderness. Apparently God didn’t have any such thing to give her.”

  Nyola Carver smiled. “He took her home, didn’t He? She’s not here to continue in her burden of pain and sorrow. That suggests mercy and tenderness to me. And as a mother I can assure you that our children are often oblivious to the comfort we find even in the face of adversity—especially when that comfort is found in God.”

  “Nyola, you’re awake,” Henry Carver said, strolling into the room. He gave Caeden a nod. “Where’s Em?”

  Caeden shook his head. “I haven’t seen her. I just got back and had some journal work to do. If you’ll excuse me.”

  He heard Nyola tell her husband that Emily had gone to trade some eggs and would be back shortly. Thoughts of Emily’s whereabouts were not enough to take his mind off of the disturbing conversation with Mrs. Carver. He took a seat at the table and crossed his arms. Nyola’s words had taken root, and no matter how hard he tried to push them aside, Caeden couldn’t forget what she’d said. Like a stubborn child refusing to eat his vegetables, Caeden shook his head.

  I am not the man she thinks I am, and God is definitely not the compassionate deity she believes Him to be.

  Henry Carver closed the bedroom door, then took a seat in the chair Caeden had just vacated. “It’s good to see you awake and smilin’, Nyola. I know I haven’t given you much to smile about all these years.”

  She shook her head. “You are the joy of my life. You and Emmy. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry for quitting on you like this.”

  Henry took hold of her hand. It was cold and thin. Much too bony. Her skin was like translucent paper. “Those doctors could be wrong, Nyola. Maybe this is just a bad spell. Could be you’ll snap out of it and feel a whole sight better in a few months.”

  “Now, Henry.” She made a tsking sound, chiding him. “You and I both know that isn’t the way it is. I am ready to go when my time comes. Of course, I do worry about you and especially about Emily.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Henry looked at her. His breath caught in the back of his throat. Facing her death was harder than anything he’d ever done.

  “You’ll get by, Henry. But you need to promise me that you’ll let Emily go her own way. She’s stayed with us all these years because she knew I needed her. She knows you’re strong enough to go off on your own, but she may need convincing that you want her to do just that for herself.”

  “But I don’t know that I do.” He looked toward her hand, unable to meet her gaze. “Fact is, Nyola, I don’t know that I could bear to be alone.”

  “Then find another wife, but don’t force that child to give up her dreams of a home and family of her own just to ease your loneliness. We’ve taken far too much from her already.”

  For several silent moments Henry thought on her words. “I hate that I’ve let you down. I’m sorry as I can be that I didn’t turn out to be the husband you needed me to be.” He looked up to find her smiling.

  “You are the man I love, Henry Carver. I married you for better or worse, in sickness and health. I don’t regret it. Not even now.”

  “I hope you’ll forgive me. You deserved so much more.” Henry’s eyes welled with tears. “I promise you, if you can just hang on a little longer, I’ll find that gold, and then I’ll be able to take you back east to a proper hospital and better doctors.”

  “They wouldn’t be able to help me any more than the others have, Henry.” She squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing for me to forgive. I want you to remember that. My only regret is that I would have liked to have lived long enough to see Emily married with a babe of her own. I think I would have liked being a grandmother.” She winced and closed her eyes.

  “You would have made a good grandmother, Nyola.” He wiped at the tears with the back of his sleeve. “I can see that you’re hurtin’. Would you like me to fetch the laudanum?”

  “No. Not just yet,” she replied, still not opening her eyes. “I want to talk to Emily when she gets back, and I’d like my head to be clear of the medicine.”

  Henry got to his feet and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “I love you, Nyola. Always remember that.”

  “I have always known that, Henry.” She gazed up at him with such love in her eyes. “Just as I have always loved you . . . and always will.”

  He held her gaze for just a moment, then turned and walked away. If he stayed there any longer, he’d be sobbing like a baby, begging her to stay. It was bad enough he carried the guilt of not being a good provider . . . of not being able to get her the expensive medical care that might well have saved her life. That guilt ate him up night and day. It was what drove him to work the sluice and pan until his body was wracked with pain. Guilt was a tremendous motivator.

  “But it wasn’t enough to make me stop seekin’ my own way,” Henry muttered, heading for the front door.

  “Did you say something?” Caeden asked from the table.

  Henry had forgotten all about Caeden. “It wasn’t anything,” he called over his shoulder. He wasn’t about to explain to this young man that his life choices were the reason his wife lay dying. He wasn’t about to speak that truth to another soul. It was bad enough that Nyola knew it. Knew it and forgave him anyway. Sadly that only made the guilt feel worse.

  6

  With the cooler temperatures of September, Emily found herself in much better spirits. Jake had been right. Autumn was definitely upon them. It was amazing how different the weather was from just a few weeks earlier. Now the mornings were crisp and chilled, while the days were quite mild. Rains came off and on, but nothing overly discouraging. If possible, it seemed that things actually greened u
p just a bit before changing into a riot of colors.

  The hens were laying with regularity, Bonnie-Belle was giving copious amounts of cream-rich milk, and the garden had turned out a nice variety of vegetables. Over all, Emily felt a sense of peace, given the time they’d remained in one place. She tried to be thankful for the past year. A year was usually as long as they ever stayed anywhere, but her father had assured her that they weren’t going to pull up stakes and leave anytime soon. Of course, the bad came with the good. Her mother didn’t have long to live, the cabin was cramped, and Emily was still no closer to figuring out what God had in mind for her life. In fact, she wasn’t at all sure she was any closer to figuring out what God was all about.

  Days earlier Mama had asked Emily to sit and have a long talk. Emily could still hear her mother’s insistence that Caeden Thibault would play an important role in Emily’s future. Emily didn’t want to make her mother feel bad, so she tried her best to seem accepting. Mama had told her many times over that she had prayed for Emily to find a husband. Now Mama was growing weaker by the day, and the only man to come around was Caeden Thibault, so naturally she was certain he fit the bill.

  Emily had thought to apologize to Caeden. Mama mentioned having spoken with Caeden about her belief that he was to marry Emily. What a horrible thing to put on his shoulders! Perhaps that was why he’d been gone so much of late. Emily knew firsthand from their earlier conversations that her dreams and Caeden’s were as far apart as the east from the west. He wasn’t at all suited to be a husband, much less a husband to a woman who wanted to put down roots so deep she could never be moved again. But it was much too pretty a day to ponder all these overwhelming and discouraging things, so Emily forced them from her thoughts.

  “I will be happy today,” she vowed.

  Humming a tune in the kitchen, Emily arranged her extra eggs in a basket with some freshly churned butter. Millie would be delighted with the goods, and it would get Emily that much closer to paying off the pig Millie was keeping for her. Then in just a few weeks they would butcher the pig and smoke the meat for winter eating. Emily had never taken on such a task, but Jake Hoover promised to swing by and help, and that was good enough for her. For once her world seemed almost right. Father had even mentioned seeing Kirk Davies in Utica and assuring the younger man that he was in no way interested in selling. To her father’s surprise, Davies hadn’t argued the point. They all hoped that would be the end of that.

  Leaving the basket on the counter, Emily slipped into her outdoor clothes. A quick check of the pocket assured her that her pistol was ready at hand should she have need of it. It gave her a small amount of satisfaction knowing she might even be able to shoot a rabbit if the opportunity presented itself. They hadn’t had rabbit for some time, and it would sure make a tasty treat.

  She pulled on her hat, then headed to her mother’s room. “Mama? I’m heading over to Millie’s. I won’t be long. Do you have everything you need? I don’t want you trying to get up on your own again.”

  Her mother smiled weakly and gave a slight nod. “I’m just going to sleep a bit. You take your time. I’ll be just fine.”

  Emily went to her mother and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I love you, Mama.”

  This brought a bigger smile to the older woman’s face. “I love you too, Emmy. You are my pride and joy, and I thank God every day that He picked me to be your mother.”

  Emily nodded in the bittersweet knowledge that their time together was very short. “Guess He knew we’d need each other.” But if He truly knew that, why would He take her from Emily now?

  I still need her, Lord.

  Stuffing her emotions down deep, Emily turned for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

  She returned to the front room and grabbed the basket. She tried hard to keep a positive spirit. There would be time enough to mourn her mother’s passing once she was dead. No sense crying buckets of tears over what might or might not happen that day. Time alone would tell when her mother’s hour would come, and until then, Emily was determined to enjoy the days they had.

  Millie’s place seemed deserted when Emily arrived at the door. She glanced around the tiny town and wondered if anyone was still in residence. Millie had told her that a good number of men had sold out to Kirk Davies and moved on. She had also figured that by first snow, she and the Carvers might be the only ones left. The deafening silence of the small town seemed to suggest she was right in her assessment.

  “Millie?” Emily called out as she entered.

  The old woman padded out from a back room. “Emily, it’s shore nuf good to see yo. What yo got dere?”

  “Eggs and butter.” Emily hoisted the basket onto the counter. “I wanted to make a payment for the pig. Oh, and later I’ll have some things for his slop.”

  Millie grinned her overly toothy smile. “That little pig is de best fed in de county. Yo’s gwanna have a nice fat porker by butcherin’ time.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.” Emily waited while Millie fetched a bowl to put the eggs in. “It looks like you were right about everyone pulling out. I didn’t see a single soul out there. Just empty cabins.”

  “Still a half dozen or so of us,” Millie said, taking great care to transfer the eggs from the basket to the bowl. “Jake won’t ever leave dis part of de state, so I reckon he’ll be round from time to time. Dere’s Zed, Jim, and One-eyed Tom. I don’t ’spect Tom to stay around. He’s not de type to winter out here in de middle of nowhere.”

  “Still, it’s a far cry from last year, when there were over two hundred people living here.” Emily waited until Millie had removed the eggs before reaching into the basket for the two crocks of butter. “I remember all the excitement and how everyone was sure this was going to be a big strike.”

  “Didn’t last long with dat thought,” Millie countered. “Folks were up and gone by dis time last year. Post office opened in June and closed down in September. I doubts it ever gwanna open again.”

  “It’s a pity. I really like it around here. I wasn’t at all certain when we first arrived, but I do find it quite peaceful now. Nothing like some of those mining camps we were in back in California.”

  “Still, a gal like yo needs a man and a place of her own.”

  “You seem to do just fine without a man around,” Emily said, smiling.

  Millie laughed loud and long. “Yo’s got that right. I do jes fine. But I’s old and yo’s young.”

  The door opened, and to both of the women’s surprise, Jake Hoover entered with a bolt of red calico tucked under one arm and his pack under the other.

  “Afternoon, ladies. Howdy do.”

  “Landsake, you look a sight. You scraped de beard from yo face and done cut yor hair.” Millie surveyed him a moment, then nodded. “Makes yo look almost human.”

  Jake laughed. “I had my picture taken in Lewistown. Figured it was about time. Never know when a fellow might leave this world, and he ought to leave something behind.”

  Millie chuckled. “A fella don took my picture last year.” She leaned toward Emily. “Made a good trade for it too. I keeps it in back and sometimes I jes look at it and wonder at how a little box could make such a thing.” She turned back to Jake. “But I’m guessin’ yo ain’t here for such things as pictures. Yo got an ornery look to yo, Jake Hoover.”

  “You’d best treat me right, Millie Ringgold, else I won’t be leaving this here present with you.” He dumped the bolt of cloth on the counter, then nodded toward Emily. “Good to see you, Miss Emily. Those candles ready?”

  “They are, Jake. I finished the last of them two days ago. You can stop by anytime to get them.” Millie was busy examining the fabric and didn’t seem to even notice that Jake and Emily were in the room.

  “Well, given you used your own time to make ’em, I figure you oughta let me pay you somethin’.”

  “You gave us that bear meat, and you’re always generous to give us venison and elk. I think you’ve more than paid your sh
are.” Emily picked up her basket. “Maybe if you sweet-talk Millie, she’ll let you have some of that butter I just gave her.”

  “Oh, yo shouldn’t be tellin’ him dat. Now he’ll jes nag me.” Millie cackled like she’d just told a great joke. She took up the bolt of cloth and hugged it to her breast. “I’m thinkin’ yo’s tryin’ to get on my good side, Jake Hoover.”

  “Well, if that’s the side where you keep the whiskey, then you’re right.”

  They both broke into laughter at that comment, and Emily moved toward the door. “I’d say you two have some dickering to do, so I’ll just be on my way.” She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she closed the door behind her. She liked these people. They were honest and down-to-earth, and there wasn’t a pretentious bone in their bodies. That meant a great deal to Emily.

  Making her way around the back of Millie’s building, Emily’s pleasant thoughts were interrupted when a man pushed her against the wall and tore the hat from her head.

  Kirk Davies grinned down at her like she was the first-prize lamb at the fair and he’d just taken possession. “You sure are a pretty thing. Why you hiding underneath that hat?”

  “So lewd characters like you will leave me be.” Emily tried to push him away, but Davies would have no part of it. Instead he put his hands up on the wall, either side of her, and leaned in. His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes.

  “You wouldn’t begrudge a fella a look now, would you? Or maybe a little kiss.” He moved toward her mouth, and Emily stepped down hard on his foot.

  He let out a yell and backed away just enough that Emily moved to skirt past him. Davies was undeterred, however. He caught hold of her arm and pulled her back. “You ought to learn to be nicer. No tellin’ where a little kindness might get you with me.” He leered at her.

 

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