Colorado Gold

by Marian Wells

  The preaching began. The rustling, restless people became quiet.

  The words were a river, alternately flowing and crashing. In the background, in the workaday world of mining, she heard the cry of teamsters and the steady, monotonous thump of the stamp mill.

  The week of meetings blurred together until the last night. At the very end, while Father and Aunt Maude began to move toward the wagon, Amy saw one last seeker slip out of the shadows and move into the light of the fires.

  When he knelt Amy recognized his lanky frame. “Daniel!” she whispered. On tiptoe with the need to run to him, she hesitated. But Aunt Maude’s frown and Father’s tired face made her turn away.

  All the way home, riding in the moonlit night, Amy thought about Daniel. It hurt many different ways to consider him. That day of the blast, his bewildered face and pain-filled eyes had become a part of her.

  Thinking now of the figure kneeling at the peeled log bench, bitterness rolled through her. He could have found me, he knew we would be there. Not once did he bring himself around. Amy, what more do you need to know?

  Chapter 10

  The log church was finished before the first snow. It was not white clapboard like back home, and not as wide as a respectable farmhouse. It boasted only benches, knee-knocking close, and a spindly pulpit. But it was perfumed with pine and had a rough plank floor.

  On one of those first Sundays in the new church, Lucas Tristram came. Amy arrived late and flustered. Until she took a seat behind him, she didn’t know there was a visitor. But having once spotted him, it was impossible to ignore his pleasant baritone and his square shoulders clothed in black broadcloth.

  Amy saw Aunt Maude casting admiring glances his direction. At the same time, Amy began to feel the slow flutter of excitement in her own heart.

  Since meeting Lucas Tristram last summer, she had been hearing his name mentioned often. A young attorney from Denver City, he was rapidly becoming an influential voice on the city council. It was whispered he was the money behind several new buildings. There was talk of his supporting a newspaper, and even more talk of the mining claims he had been acquiring. Amy studied his back and dreamed her way through the sermon.

  At the conclusion of the worship service, when Lucas bent over her hand, the look they exchanged bridged the months since they first met. His slightly mocking smile promised silence about that night, and he moved on to be introduced to the Wilsons.

  On the following Sunday, Amy wasn’t surprised to find Lucas in church again. By the third Sunday Aunt Maude, cheeks bright and eyes sparkling, insisted he come home and share their fried chicken.

  Only Father and Amy knew the significance of fried chicken in the Randolph’s pot. And only Amy and Aunt Maude read Father’s questioning frown that Sunday afternoon. Later Amy found herself wondering which of them had been most relieved when Father’s frown changed to a grin. Most likely it was Aunt Maude.

  That winter Amy had no tramps through the snow, no icy, lonely walks. Lucas was there with his shiny sleigh.

  Father and Aunt Maude went along on the first ride. Amy watched Aunt Maude’s knuckles turn white while Father clutched his hat. She also saw the twinkle in Lucas’s eyes and guessed he had deliberately picked the steepest hill in Central City.

  One Sunday afternoon while the two of them were riding, Lucas said, “Amy, let’s talk about you. Tell me your plans. I can’t believe with your talent you haven’t decided to study music.”

  Amy met the question in his eyes. She was deeply conscious of the admiration she was seeing there, but there was something more intriguing. There were no dark shadows in his eyes. He wasn’t like Daniel. This young man was full of the love of living, and he was bound to make exciting things happen. She guessed there was nothing she could say that would shock him.

  “I have no plans. Aunt Maude would never consent to my playing the piano.”

  He understood and laughed. “How did you manage that concert last fall?”

  “Lizzie did it all. She’d been teaching me all summer.”

  He let the reins go slack as he reached for her hand. “You know I’m fascinated by you. That funny innocent expression contrasts with the fact I’ve heard you play a polka that can set every foot to tapping. Amy Randolph, you are a deep pool, and you challenge me to discover all the hidden depths. I’ll do my best to encourage you to study music. Just maybe I’ll be able to persuade Aunt Maude you should have a piano.”

  She searched his eyes and decided to ignore the remark. His grin was half mocking as he snapped the reins across the mare’s back.

  The following day, Amy walked slowly down the street, thinking about Lucas. As she passed the newest dress shop on the street, she heard, “Psst! Amy.”

  Lizzie poked her head through the open door of the shop. “Come in, Amy. You must see all the pretties. This is Madame Florence’s new dress shop. Surely Aunt Maude won’t mind your looking.”

  Amy came. Unwinding her shawl in the warmth of the store, she said, “I’m not worried. It’s amazing what a difference a seventeenth birthday makes. Yesterday I was a child; today I am grown up.”

  Lizzie gave Amy a curious look. “It takes more than a new frock to make a woman of a girl. What have you done to your hair?”

  Amy touched the soft roll high on her head. “It’s not just that. It’s the way they treat me. I’m even allowed to have beaus now. Too bad you don’t come to church. Lucas Tristram has been attending regularly.”

  She stopped and frowned at Lizzie’s expression. “You’re nodding. I suppose everyone in town knows. And also maybe it’s not because of me, but instead because church has now become respectable.” She saw her friend’s puzzled expression.

  Lizzie’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t know churches weren’t always respectable.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean. It’s the new building. Sure it’s only log with a plank floor, but that’s better than using our home as a church.” She added, “He still hasn’t put down a real floor—in our house.”

  “So Lucas Tristram is in church these days.” Lizzie laughed and turned away. “Back home they said it was wrong to go to church for courtin’.”

  Amy shrugged. “Father seems to think Lucas is special. A lawyer. He’s working up here filing claims, and doing other legal things. He told Father he’s been buying up everything he can get. Father says he’s sure to make a good strike sooner or later. Says he expects Lucas to be a millionaire as soon as any of them.

  “But he’s not the only new one at church,” Amy continued. “Aunt Clara is still going at it. She’s got a way of reminding the miners of their responsibility to God.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Living up to their commitment. I think she means that if they joined the church back home, they’d better act like a member out here. If they don’t, God will get them.” Amy saw the fleeting expression on Lizzie’s face. “What’s wrong? Did I say something to frighten you?”

  Her voice was strained. “Do you believe that way?”

  Amy moved her shoulders impatiently. “I didn’t come shopping for a new comb with my Bible tucked under my arm. Besides, why don’t you come to church?”

  They were standing at the counter and Lizzie lifted a rosy red ribbon. Madame Florence closed the door behind her customer and swept toward them. Amy eyed her pile of reddish hair and the bustle swishing from side to side as she walked. “My, this little mining camp is nearly as nice as Denver City now. At least with this shop,” Amy said, her smile taking in both Lizzie and the shopkeeper.

  “We intend to keep up with the latest fashions. Though if it weren’t for the girls, there wouldn’t be a market. I’ve some nice frocks if you wish to see them.” She fumbled with the cameo on her collar and smiled from Amy to Lizzie.

  With a regretful sigh, Amy said, “A parson’s daughter can’t afford luxuries like that. And the ribbon. Aunt Maude would burn it, most certainly.”

  The woman’s eyebrows lifted in surprised arcs as
she glanced quickly at Lizzie. Amy didn’t understand the wink, but she was relieved when the woman hurried to the front of the shop.

  At church that next Sunday, sitting two rows behind Lucas Tristam, Amy thought of the ribbons and combs, the lace collars and rich velvets. She touched the curl hanging over her ear.

  The curl had been pure impulse and she was still uneasy, but she had felt brave this morning. When Aunt Maude turned her back, Amy had loosened her hair just enough to see a curl appear over each ear.

  After the church services ended, Lucas Tristram bent over her hand with a look both bold and teasing. Amy tugged and blushed just as Aunt Maude appeared and invited him home for dinner.

  While they walked from the edge of Eureka Gulch to the Randolph cabin, Lucas answered Aunt Maude’s questions with stories of his family in New York. Amy watched his dimple appear and disappear as he talked. His hair was wavy; Daniel’s was straight, but she liked the maple leaf brown of Daniel’s. She stifled a sigh as she looked at Aunt Maude’s rapt expression.

  The unseasonable January thaw had left rivers of slush on the streets, but Lucas was too busy talking to notice the mud that clung to his shiny boots. Amy made a wry face to herself as she picked her way through the slush. Let him think me dainty, she decided, better that by far than the truth!

  She grinned at Father, and he watched as she skirted a sloppy puddle. Father knew her dainty steps were due to the split in her boot. Surprisingly the look that answered her grin was very serious. Quickly he glanced at Lucas’s boots.

  From that day on, Lucas became a regular guest at the Randolph home. It was obvious Father was encouraging him, and Amy swallowed her surprise. Lucas seemed the direct opposite of the type of man she would have expected Father to endorse.

  On Sundays, after dinner, Lucas and Father would talk while Amy and Aunt Maude cleaned up the dinner clutter. Amy listened to their rumble of words and saw the worried lines on her father’s face as they talked about the possibility of war.

  Both of them were in Denver City just often enough to keep the subject fresh in their minds, and their talk reflected what they heard in Denver City.

  Amy began to read the newspapers they brought back from Denver City. Amy asked, “Father, what is this about slavery that is causing so much bad feeling? Why can’t we let them be? Lucas said most of these people would starve without masters to care for them.”

  “And I say that is false thinking!” Amy recognized her father’s pulpit voice as Eli said, “Slavery goes against the moral grain of man. Oppression of any kind is not to be tolerated in a free land. Amy, our country was settled by God-fearing men. From the beginning they advocated freedom for all. I believe we have the obligation to secure this right for the weak even as we strive to maintain it for ourselves.”

  Amy lost the import of his words. She was watching his face. It had been a long time since she had seen this glow. Was Lucas responsible? Or was it just the excitement of having someone to argue with?

  Lucas continued to be a part of their life, but often Amy found herself measuring his sophistication against their humble place in the community. Secretly she expected every day to have seen the last of him.

  She also measured her response to him. Even as she was arrested by the flattery in his eyes and accepted the tokens of candy, lacy handkerchiefs, and even a tiny cameo brooch, she was aware of a growing uneasiness. Too often her thoughts flitted away. Where was Daniel? Had he found another friend? Why must she continue to think about him?

  In addition, it was some time before Amy began to understand Aunt Maude’s happiness. With dismay, Amy realized Aunt Maude saw the gifts in a different light—to her they signified as much as a signed and sealed contract.

  This was made clear the evening Lucas came to escort Amy to a phrenology lecture in Mountain City.

  “Skull reading!” Aunt Maude scoffed as she ironed Amy’s dark worsted skirt. “It’s likely one excuse is as good as another,” she added. “Decent church people wouldn’t be caught at the likes of the entertainment they offer in a mining camp. I’m waiting for the day we get a big enough cabin to hold a molasses-candy pull like we had back home. If you’re not married by that time.”

  “Married!” Amy exclaimed. “All I want is a waist of white linen with ruffles of real lace.”

  Aunt Maude snorted, “It is more likely you’ll be married before that happens. That young man won’t wait. Besides, a parson’s salary doesn’t support such fancy ideas.” She peered at Amy, nodding, “You’ll do well to look afield, rather’n settling for a preacher boy. Goodness knows, your father has suffered over not being able to provide for you.”

  That was the beginning. It wasn’t too long until Amy realized her engagement to Lucas was being taken for granted.

  With dismay, she tried to close her eyes to the direction it was all leading. After all, it was fun being with Lucas, being escorted to places she would never have gone otherwise. She didn’t intend to give that up. But she was uneasy about the prospect of marrying him. She tried to push the thought out of her conscious mind.

  Like the cameo and handkerchiefs tucked out of sight, Amy let herself forget the hope in Father’s eyes, the twinkle in Aunt Maude’s.

  Finally Aunt Maude put it all out in the open. “People around town as well as them in the church are buzzing. They’re wanting to know when you and Lucas are getting married.”

  “Married! He hasn’t even kissed me.”

  “A proper young man. A lawyer, too. Can’t do better,” Aunt Maude said with satisfaction.

  Amy looked at her aunt with dismay. She dared not admit to Aunt Maude that most often her thoughts were on Daniel, not Lucas. Only to herself could she admit her dreams of Lucas focused more on Amy in silks and velvets, living in a big house, than they did on the man who would share life with her.

  When Lucas brought up the subject, it was he who made it possible for her to hold him at arm’s length. They were riding in his smart new buggy. Lucas had taken the road through Eureka Gulch, and Amy caught sight of that wounded spot just above the Gerrett cabin. She noticed the cabin door was sagging open and made a mental note to walk that way and fasten it tight.

  Lucas said, “Amy, you know everyone in town is waiting breathlessly for us to announce our plans. I hear there’s bets we’ll be married before the Independence Day celebration.” His grin was cocky. Amy didn’t know what to say. She tilted her head and looked at him.

  He said, “When you look down your nose at me, I feel like throwing myself at your feet and begging. Please don’t do it now; it’s dangerous to drop the reins on this road.”

  “Lucas, I—”

  “If you are going to refuse, I shall stop them from building our house and cast myself into Gregory Gulch.”

  “Silly. I didn’t know you were building a house.”

  “And I’ve ordered a ring for you. Just say you’ll marry me.”

  “If everyone expects it, then I suppose it isn’t necessary for me to agree.”

  “Then you will?”

  She held him off. “Please, Lucas. We’ve known each other such a short time. Marriage is a big decision. I think yes, but let’s not talk about it until—”

  “When?”

  She hunted for a landmark and stammered, “June. Father’s taking Aunt Maude and me into Denver City for camp meeting. After I return we can talk seriously.”

  “I didn’t know camp meeting was that important to you.” Surprised at the disappointment in his voice, she hesitated. Until now she had not even thought about camp meeting.

  ****

  On the first of May Amy met Lizzie in Eureka Gulch. Early that morning Amy had remembered the sagging door on the Gerrett cabin and decided to go there.

  When she reached the claim, Lizzie was sitting on a rock overlooking the mine and the long slit of a valley below.

  Amy waved and went to fasten the door before climbing the slope. “Lizzie! I’d begun to think you’d left Central City.”

&
nbsp; “No.” Her voice was cool and she seemed sad.

  “Problem?” Amy asked, sitting down to study the deep shadows under Lizzie’s eyes.

  “Oh, I suppose. Mostly I’m tired of this boring town.” Glancing at Amy, Lizzie said, “There’s gossip around town that you’re thinking of marrying Lucas Tristram—is that true?”

  Amy sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. Things seem to be heading that way pretty fast.”

  “You’ll hate me, but I’m going to tell you a few things you need to know. Remember the McCormick-Fife Claim and how old man Fife was found murdered? Do you know who bought the claim from McCormick for nickels on the dollar?” When Amy shook her head impatiently, Lizzie replied, “Lucas Tristram.”

  “Lizzie, are you suggesting Lucas did something bad?” The two stared at each other. Amy watched the tears puddle in Lizzie’s eyes. Amy lifted her chin and said, “You’ve always been jealous of me and Lucas. Well, I’d have been glad to see you get Lucas, fair and square. I think you could have. But this is ugly. Of course you know I don’t believe you.”

  Slowly Lizzie got to her feet. “I didn’t think you would.” She turned and ran toward the road. For a moment Amy nearly called after her; then she shrugged and turned away.

  At the end of the week, Father returned from Joe’s store with an envelope for her. He was wearing a puzzled frown. “Amy, here’s something for you. Joe would only say it had been given to him for delivery.”

  Amy carried the envelope to the shade of the aspen grove. The single sheet of paper read: I think you should know the Wilsons are in trouble with the law over a claim. Question: Why would Lucas Tristram meet Mrs. Wilson up at the Cawson shanty every Thursday afternoon?

  Amy slowly folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. More of Lizzie’s jealousy. When she went into the cabin, Amy pushed the letter into the stove. As the paper flared into flames and turned to ash, she tried to push the nagging question away. It was nonsense; Lizzie was making a mountain out of a molehill. Her thoughts churned on. Amy, you’ll never know for a fact unless you go up to that shanty. You know Lucas always goes to Russell Gulch on Thursday to record the land claims there. Every Thursday.