Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04]

by The Hope Within

  “Good. Glad you see it our way. Who knows, maybe you can convince old Joshua to stay home now—do his part.”

  “I don’t need any of you.” The older man turned, then paused and looked back. “Don’t be expecting any money from me. You can take what belongs to you, but don’t think you’ll be getting any part of an inheritance.”

  “We’ve already taken what we want and have the money we need,” Jerrod said, leaning casually against the fence of the corral. “You oughta know by now that we’re perfectly capable of fending for ourselves.”

  “So you’ve been robbing me blind as well. I guess I should have known that.”

  “There’s a lot of things you should’ve known,” Roy muttered. They eyed their father for a moment, and then Jerrod shook his head.

  “Are you leaving today?”

  “No,” Jerrod replied. “But soon. In our own time. Just wanted you to know. Figured we wouldn’t sneak off like Joshua did or desert to the enemy like Mara.”

  “At least they didn’t steal from me.”

  “Don’t be so certain of that. You remember those papers you paid to have removed from the courthouse in Virginia City? The papers that would have helped you steal the Selby land? Well, I’m fairly confident our little Mara was the one who stole them back,” Jerrod said. “So don’t think us so different. She foiled all of your plans. We’re only walkin’ away with what we deserve.”

  “You deserve to hang,” their father muttered.

  “No more than you. Do you honestly suppose anyone would be surprised to know your part in the Farley murders? Do you suppose it would be that hard to convince a jury that you were there?”

  “Shut up,” the old man declared, crossing the distance with surprising speed. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and clear out as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll go in my own time, old man. Don’t threaten me.” Jerrod was nose to nose with his father. The hatred shone clear in his father’s eyes.

  “You’d better watch yourself, boy. You have to sleep sometime.” The man’s words were cold and poisonous. Jerrod could almost feel the chill of death in his father’s stare.

  “So you’re back,” Elsa said as she served Joshua a cup of coffee.

  “Not to stay here, but to get you.”

  She straightened and looked at him with surprise. “Truly?”

  “Are you willing to leave?”

  “Of course, but he won’t be willing for me to leave. Still, I’ll be twenty-one next year. I can take my freedom then, although I scarcely have the funds to make my own way.”

  “I figure to provide for you, although it won’t be much. That’s why I never could send for you before now,” Joshua admitted. He’d made his sister a promise the night he’d left that he would free her from this ranch. Now he was back to fulfill his obligation.

  “I know I can’t give you a life of wealth or keep you in these kinds of luxuries,” he said holding up the china cup.

  “Who cares about such things?” Elsa said. She sat down opposite her brother. “Would you really take me away from here?”

  “Of course. That’s the only reason I came back.”

  She leaned back against the brocade of the settee. “I can’t imagine being free of this. Free of the hatred and anger—the lack of love. I’ve nearly wasted away longing for some tenderness.” Tears came to her eyes. “Do you know what it is to live completely isolated from everyone who is capable of showing kindness and love?”

  “Doesn’t Mara visit?”

  “She tried to come here, but Father threatened to shoot her. Virginia City is so far away, she’d never be able to do it on her own, and up until this year there wasn’t much rebuilt at the Diamond V.”

  “Are they back at the ranch now?”

  “No. There are some workmen there and a few cowhands. I heard the Vandyke family would be back soon. That was a week or two ago, so they may well be there now. Otherwise, they’re in Virginia City. Mara still lives with the Selbys, and it causes Father no end of complaint.”

  “I’m sure,” Joshua said, sipping the steaming brew. It was really much too hot to drink coffee, but it seemed rude to reject his sister’s efforts.

  “If I can convince Father to let you go, will you come with me?”

  “Of course. Where will we go?” Elsa questioned.

  “Virginia City for starts. We need to find Mara.”

  “And how will we live?”

  “I’ll find work.”

  “There isn’t much available. The drought has been hard on everyone—not just the ranchers. The Selbys do own a freighting business. Maybe they’d take you on.”

  Joshua shook his head and put down the cup. “I have a profession. I’m a preacher.”

  “You’re a what!” his father bellowed from the doorway.

  Joshua wasn’t sure how much his father had overheard, but he steeled himself for an attack. “I’m a preacher. I share the Word of God with lost souls and saved.”

  Chester Lawrence strode across the room and threw his hat atop a small table. “You can’t be serious. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard yet.”

  “I felt the Lord’s calling on my life, Father. It’s not ridiculous at all. I studied under some wonderful men and learned a great deal about the Bible. I have helped to preach at a small church in Philadelphia, and many people came to the Lord while I was there. I was hoping to share God’s plan with you, Father. I thought you might be ready to hear the truth about hell and eternity without Jesus.”

  “Get out!” his father yelled. He approached Joshua as if he would bodily throw him from the house.

  Joshua got to his feet. “I came here with another purpose as well. I’m sorry you don’t approve of my profession, but I would like you to hear me out.”

  “No. There’s nothing you could say that would interest me. You’re dead to me, boy.”

  “Father!” Elsa said, jumping to her feet.

  “You stay out of this, girl. You have no say in it.”

  “But Elsa is part of the reason I’m here. I promised to come back for her.”

  His father stepped back as if Joshua had slapped him. “Come back for her?”

  “She wants to leave the ranch, and I told her I would take her to live with me.”

  The older man looked from Joshua to Elsa and asked, “Is that right? Answer me.”

  She nodded, and Joshua could see the way she fairly cringed at their father’s demanding voice. “I want to leave.”

  “No. Now get out,” he said, turning to Joshua. “Your sister is staying here. I’ve got plans for her. She’s my responsibility—at least for the time being, and she will do as I say.”

  “But she isn’t happy here,” Joshua protested.

  “I don’t care if she is happy. She’s not going anywhere. But you are. Go!”

  Elsa began to cry in earnest, and Joshua knew he’d best leave rather than further upset their father. “I’ll leave for now, but I’ll be back. I think if we talk about this calmly and rationally, you’ll see that it’s a better life for her in the city than out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “If you don’t leave now, I’ll throw you out of here,” his father barked, stepping forward in a menacing manner.

  “Go, Joshua. Go before there’s trouble,” Elsa sobbed.

  Joshua nodded. “I’ll be back. I promise, and you know I’m a man of my word.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “HERE, HAVE A CHEW AND JOIN ME FOR A TALK,” MARCUS Daly said as he came upon Zane Chadwick. He extended a plug of tobacco, but Zane shook his head and hoisted a wooden crate into the back of the wagon.

  This accomplished, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. The heat was making things miserable, as were the fumes and smoke from the local smelters. The air, some said, was poisonous to breathe. Zane figured it not too far from true, given the fact that most of the vegetation was dying or had died. It was said that the sulfur and arsenic content from th
e refining ore inevitably filtered into the air. Zane had even seen a cat drop over dead after licking itself. No doubt it had been the victim of a heavy dose of arsenic dust.

  Tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket, Zane smiled. “I’ll forego the chew but will enjoy the talk. So what brings you here today?”

  “Just felt the need for some conversation with sane folk.”

  “Sounds like you must have had a run-in with Mr. Clark.” “That man is always causin’ me grief,” Marcus replied, his Irish brogue thick.

  Zane understood the long-time irritation between his business associate and William Clark. Their competition around Anaconda and Butte was well known. Both men fancied themselves the copper king of the area, and both intended that they alone should take the throne and rule.

  “If we can just get those crazy Michigan instigators to stop fighting us on the price of copper,” Marcus began, “my little hill could realize me some thirteen million dollars this year. Half of that will be from copper alone. But if the prices don’t rise and if my competition doesn’t stop gluttin’ the market … well, it won’t be William Clark who grieves me the most. Still, I’d like to be riddin’ this country of him. If it’s not one thing, ’tis another.”

  Zane smiled. Marcus hated Clark through and through. Clark felt the same toward Marcus—of that there was no doubt. Clark made it clear that he saw Marcus as an Irish buffoon with few manners and fewer recommendable qualities. Marcus Daly in return saw Clark as a wealthy moneygrubber who intended to succeed on the backs of his workers, friends, and family. Their battles were notorious and were likely to only grow in intensity.

  Zane decided not to focus the conversation on Clark but rather on the pricing problems related to copper. “So what’s the worst of it now? Will the prices per pound continue to drop?”

  “Copper is down to ten cents a pound,” Marcus replied woefully. “And just think, it was sixteen only three years ago.”

  “So those Michigan-Boston men are depressing the market to teach us a lesson?”

  “They think they can squeeze us out, but I won’t go. We’ll keep producing.” He sighed and looked to Zane. “Well, we may have to shut down for a time. I hate to say it, but I’m thinkin’ I may have to close the Anaconda until those ruffians back East come to their senses and realize they no longer have the only offering of copper.”

  “Closing the mine would be a desperate act. Are you certain there’s no other way? What about your thirteen million?”

  Marcus shook his head. “That’s product that has mostly been realized. Between the silver and copper ore—both of which show no signs of playing out—we could be the center of all copper production.”

  “I hope you won’t have to make the decision to close. Especially as we head into autumn and winter. Folks need to have a living to endure the harsh elements.”

  “And don’t I know it.” Marcus seemed momentarily defeated. “I’ll know for sure by August.”

  Changing the subject, Zane addressed a matter near to his heart. “I’m going to take a load of goods over the mountain and then head on back to Virginia City to see my family. I thought I’d best let you know in case you missed me.” He smiled broadly at the man.

  Marcus spit a stream of brown and asked, “How long will ya be gone?”

  “I’m not sure. Business isn’t what it used to be for me, and I’m considering what to do with my future. I’m not sure I want to stick around here. The place reeks of death.”

  “Oh, that’s just Clark,” Marcus said with a big grin. His despair seemed to pass.

  Zane laughed. “Be that as it may, I’m not so sure I want to be here anymore.”

  “Don’t give up on us yet. This copper war will settle down and the price will soar. You’ll see. Anaconda will make a fine capital for this territory once it becomes a state.”

  “You sound certain that you’ll have your way and push through Anaconda, when Clark is equally determined to have Helena remain the capital.”

  “I am certain. I have me plans.”

  Zane nodded. “And he has his.”

  “Now don’t be talkin’ like that, me boy. Clark has his plans to be sure. He fancies ’imself a politician now, don’t ya know. But never mind that. He’ll be just as miserable at that quest as he is at others.”

  “Seems to me he’s not doing that poorly for himself.”

  Marcus spit again and wiped his mouth. “He doesn’t know what’s in the heart of the people. He doesn’t understand their needs, their desires. I do. I’m down here with them—one of them.”

  Zane laughed. “One of them who will earn thirteen million dollars this year and possibly dismiss the entire mining staff of the great Anaconda mine.”

  “But I’ll be helpin’ them who haven’t the same opportunities. I use my profits to see to givin’ honest men work—at least as best I can, considering the conditions. Clark is only interested in helpin’ himself. He doesn’t care that copper is at ten cents a pound.”

  Zane was already tired of the comments. He tried hard to have a good opinion of everyone, William Clark included. It didn’t bother him in the least that the man was rich and had political ambitions.

  “Say, could ya be arranging some timber for me on your trip east?” Marcus suddenly questioned. “We’re eatin’ it up at an alarming rate in the mines. And the government is pressin’ me something awful regarding the federal woodlands.”

  “I’d heard they were none too happy about you taking trees. Taking the laws a little more seriously, are they?”

  Marcus shook his head. “I don’t care what they want. I need that wood. The Anaconda uses some thirty-five thousand board feet per day. I have braces to put in and supports are needed to insure the safety of my men. See if you can’t arrange some shipments for me. Talk to your family and friends. Your brother-inlaw should know a good many fellows who might be willin’ to help.”

  “I’ll do what I can, but transportation may be an issue. Getting those logs to the railroad is hard and dangerous work.”

  “I’ll pay enough to make it worth the effort. I’ll write you up some figures and give you an idea of what to offer. Just don’t let them rob me blind.”

  “I know you have arrangements with the railroad, but what about buying some land yourself? You’ve got plenty of money, so it’s not like you can’t afford it,” Zane threw out. “There are some great forests to the north and west of Butte, out by Missoula. I saw them in my soldiering days.”

  “It’s a worthy notion. I’ll take it up and give it some thought. But for now will you do this for me?”

  “Of course.”

  Mara Lawrence tried to concentrate on her quilting stitches as the other women in Dianne’s living room openly chatted about a variety of subjects, none of which really interested Mara. Her mind was focused on thoughts of a husband and family. There was no one in particular who brought those thoughts to mind for her, but Mara was seeing her life slip away—even though she was only twenty-one.

  “Well, you can’t say that the church social won’t offer us a good time,” Charity commented. Mara was unsure what had brought about this remark and decided to pay better attention.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that at all,” Dianne said, her needle weaving in and out rhythmically. “I merely said this town offers nothing of entertainment or positive influence. It appears quite the contrary. My boys, for example. They never got into such fights when we lived on the ranch. Now it’s not unusual for one or the other to come home once a week with a blackened eye or torn clothes.”

  “I have to admit,” Ardith threw in, “Winona has learned more bad habits during our time here. Perhaps it’s because we were so isolated on the ranch.”

  “And the life there was better. We had more control and influence over our children because we schooled them instead of a stranger.”

  “Well, this town offers good along with the bad,” Faith declared. Mara knew that the former slave was often ill-treated by the whites o
f Virginia City, so it surprised her that Faith Montgomery should defend life in town.

  “If it weren’t for the hospital and doctor, I have no doubt my Lucy would have died from the croup a long time ago. Then there’s something to be said for having so many conveniences at your fingertips.”

  “We never lacked for anything when we lived on the ranch,” Dianne said, her voice getting louder. “And while I realize we went from time to time into Madison before it burned to the ground, it wasn’t like being in a town of this size.”

  “It could be worse,” Charity said with a smile. “We could be in Bozeman where there are plenty more people and problems.”

  “Or in Butte,” Faith said, “where I’m told every blade of grass has died and withered away because of the fouled air from the mines.”

  “Of course, things could always be worse,” Dianne agreed.

  Tension filled the air, making Mara uncomfortable. She’d been with these same people now for nearly five years. They were the closest people she had to real family. Her own father wanted nothing to do with her. He considered her a traitor—worse than that even. He considered her nothing … nothing at all. Her brothers were worthless, except for Joshua, but she hadn’t heard from him in years. Then there was Elsa, her little sister. Mara longed to help Elsa escape the ranch.

  The silence fell heavy, and Mara could no longer stand it. “I would like very much for you to pray for me,” she said softly.

  “Why, child, whatever is wrong?” Charity asked.

  Mara smiled and paused in her stitching. “Nothing is wrong. I simply want you to pray that God will bring me a husband. I want very much to marry and have a family. The prospects here have been many, but not very well suited to my desires or needs. I know that God wants me to marry and raise a family, because He’s put that longing in my heart.”

  “Marriage is a rough and rocky road,” Dianne said with a sigh. “A great deal of hard work that requires every bit of hope and strength you can give it. Be sure you are ready for such things before jumping in.”