Sierra Bride

by Jenna Kernan

  Kate clenched her fists about the quilt, drawing it up to her mouth, afraid of what he would say next. He must have seen her tension, for he rested his hand over hers, patting it gently as if to comfort her.

  “Cole and I had little choice but to go. We formed a party of those without means, and some of the mothers with small children, desperate to get help. Cole was in a worse fix than me, because he had a wife and young daughter. My boss and his wife agreed to care for Lee-lee, so Angela, that was Cole’s wife, left the child and we set out.” His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he were no longer there in the bedroom with her but off on the mountain seeing it all over again. As the daylight faded, he told her how they had used oxbows to make snowshoes and how the men broke trail. How some grew exhausted and were left behind. How freezing rains had separated their party and how he had elected to stay back when his friend’s wife took sick.

  “We ran out of food and Angela took a real high fever. She didn’t know what was happening much of the time, which was a blessing. But at the end she was clear in her mind. Last thing she said to Cole was, ‘Promise me you’ll get help for Lee-lee.’ And I heard him promise. But after she passed, he wouldn’t get up. He just lay there in the snow beside his wife. That’s when they came back.”

  He stopped the telling. She met his troubled gaze.

  “Who came back?” she whispered in the gathering dark.

  Sam’s expression went hard as he stared past her at the wall. “The Devlins—Charles, Amelia and their two grown sons. They was the family Cole worked for. At first I thought they’d come to help, but there aren’t words to describe what they wanted.”

  She held her breath. She’d heard grim tales of the survivors left in camp. She knew what the deprivation had wreaked there. But there had been no stories from the survivors who walked out. Sam’s expression echoed the horrors he had witnessed.

  “They wanted her body. Said her sacrifice would save us all. That got Cole on his feet in a hurry. He drew his pistol and drove them off. They made like they was going but only so we wouldn’t see Devlin draw. Cole had holstered his weapon but Devlin’s shot missed. Cole’s didn’t—shot Devlin right between the eyes. He told his widow if they were hungry they could eat that. We watched them drag off the body. I helped Cole bury his wife. He wanted to wrap Angela in my blanket, but I wouldn’t give it to him. I knew that blanket was all that kept us alive the first two nights. The ground was frozen, of course, so we used branches and rocks and such, trying to build a grave to keep the scavengers off her body. It took nearly all our energy. We was so weak, you see, from the hunger and cold. When we was finished, Cole decided maybe he’d stay right there. I reminded him of his promise. Lee-lee was waitin’ for her papa. That got him walking again. It wasn’t long after that that we found Devlin’s body. His family had stripped the flesh off the back of his legs and left him right out in the open like a butchered hog.”

  Sam glanced down at Kate and she knew without him speaking what he had done. Her eyes widened and he swallowed before confirming what she already knew.

  “Cole never touched that body. I wish to God I could say the same. I’m damned for it now.”

  Kate choked back her abhorrence, the overwhelming revulsion at what he had done. But he must have seen it, for he inhaled sharply and drew back. She let him go, at a loss now for what to say.

  “It’s why I don’t speak of it. That look you gave me. It’s disgust. It is disgusting. I know it. You can’t do such a thing and not be fouled by it.”

  The repugnance receded, replaced by an overwhelming sense of empathy. He looked so shattered by her reaction. It shamed her. “No, that’s not true. But Sam, it’s horrible. What you must have suffered. I’m so terribly sorry.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Sorry?”

  “Oh, yes. It must be a hard thing to reconcile.”

  “It can’t be. And I can’t live with it, either. I’d do anything to go back to that moment.”

  “But what choice did you have but death?”

  She brushed the hair back from his temple and he allowed it. Then she crawled upward until she could bring his head to rest upon her bare breast. She stroked him, dragging her fingers rhythmically through his hair and felt the hot splash of his tears on her skin.

  “You saved his life, Sam. Cole never would have made it out without you.”

  “I did it to save myself. I did it because the hunger was like a madness. What other explanation is there for doing such an evil thing?”

  “Survival, Sam. We all do what we must to live.”

  “I don’t understand why I survived when so many good decent folks died.”

  “You lived because you were stronger and because you were brave enough to do things weaker men couldn’t stomach.”

  “Selfish, you mean.”

  “You made it out. You told the outside world that there was a wagon train stranded in the pass. All who were rescued owe you their lives.”

  “They didn’t all survive,” he said.

  She kissed his troubled brow. “They didn’t all die, either.”

  “I haven’t been up here since. Too many ghosts.”

  “Sam?”

  He drew away and sat beside her. “I understand, Kate, if you don’t want any part of me. I wouldn’t blame you, either.”

  She held his hand. “I think you’re a hero and the most noble man I have ever met.”

  He stared at her. His expression radiated astonishment that dissolved into gratitude.

  “I never expected you to say nothing like that,” he whispered. “I figured you’d want no more to do with me after you knew.”

  “Guess you figured wrong.”

  Another piece of the puzzle that was Sam suddenly slipped neatly into place. “That’s why you want to close the pass. Why you are building the railroad.”

  “Once she’s built, nobody else will ever have to face early snows again. I’ve sunk my last dollar into that project and convinced lots of folks to do the same. I thought if I did this, maybe the ghosts wouldn’t bother me so much. Maybe I’d find some peace or at least have one thing I could be proud of.”

  She gaped at him. “One thing? Sam, you hit one of the biggest strikes of gold in California.”

  “Kate, my own mother didn’t want me. You think gold can fill that hole?”

  She felt her heart breaking for him.

  “I need that railroad. Nobody’s going to stop me. Not Donahue or all the shippers in San Francisco.”

  Kate thought of something then, something she hadn’t understood this morning—was it only this morning? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She recalled the gift he had presented. The meaning that had escaped her now became crystal clear.

  “Sam, the railroad stock—you gave me a piece of your dream, didn’t you?”

  He smiled and made the slightest nod.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  He toyed with a strand of her hair, winding it around his finger. “I thought it would sicken you, what I done up here in these mountains.”

  “You misjudged me.”

  The hardest part was telling the boarders that she was closing the house. Ella Maguire gave them the same amount of notice that the bank gave her—one week.

  The sale of the piano gave her enough ready cash to rent a one-bedroom apartment and to hire a boy to move their personal belongings in. Kate would be so disappointed that she had failed to sell the necklace. Not just failed, but somehow managed to cast a shadow of suspicion on her niece. That terrible woman had spun a web of lies as masterfully as any weaver.

  “Will Kate be able to find us?” asked Phoebe.

  Ella tucked her niece against her side. “Of course she will. I’ve left word with the neighbors.”

  And the police had Ella’s new address in case they needed to speak to her again. That thought turned her stomach to ice. What had Kate gotten involved in?

  She trusted Kate. But she did have a reckless side. It explained her firs
t marriage and her acceptance of the very improper offer by Mr. Pickett.

  But Kate would never have become involved in a scheme to defraud Mr. Pickett. She’d stake her life on it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  K ate’s stomach growled so loudly that Sam jumped.

  “Holy mackerel, we best get you fed.” He slid from the bed and got two oil lamps lit. He returned with one and set it beside the bed. He pressed his hands to his bare hips. “Didn’t I tell someone to get me some proper clothing?”

  Kate rose, relinquishing the quilt so Sam would have something to cover himself as he went to the door. She stared down at her hands, tipping them toward the lamplight. The cut on her right index finger gapped when she pinched it, but the rest were scabbing up nicely.

  Sam returned a moment later with a stack of neatly folded clothing and a covered crock.

  As Sam changed, Kate slipped into the nightgown and robe and investigated the crock and found a fine-looking beef stew that had congealed. However, the foreman’s wife kept an orderly home and the stove fires were nicely banked. Kate had little trouble stoking them. By the time Sam emerged from the bedroom, she had added kindling and was placing their meal on the burner to warm.

  He came up behind her, resting his hands on her hips. It stirred bad memories of Luke, but rather than stiffen, she leaned back against him, replacing the bad with good.

  Sam enfolded her in his arms and nuzzled her neck.

  She clasped his arms, now looped about her waist, and rocked slightly back and forth with him in a silent dance of comfort and contentment.

  “If you don’t let go of me, we’ll both starve to death.”

  He squeezed her tight. “I’ll never let go.”

  Kate sighed, trying to remember that it was only teasing, only words. But her heart believed him—or wanted to believe him. It was her mind that resisted, knowing how much more painful their parting would be if she was foolish enough to fall in love with him.

  He stepped away, but gave her backside a little pat. She turned and caught sight of his wardrobe for the first time. He wore a red flannel shirt, rolled at the sleeves as if he meant to go out and split cordwood. He looked fully capable, with his broad chest and well-muscled arms. He also wore a pair of jeans that fit him remarkably well and his feet were now covered with gray wool socks. She blinked at him, thinking how natural he looked in the clothing of a laborer. It seemed to suit him better than his finely tailored garments. It only reinforced the illusion that he was an ordinary man instead of someone of importance. She wished he was a laborer and she wished he was hers.

  “You look ready to work at the mill.” She could not resist stroking the red flannel of his sleeve as she admired him. “Those clothes fit you so well.”

  “They ought to. They’re mine.”

  “Yours!”

  “I keep some things up here.” He stood awkwardly now, waiting, but for what she did not know.

  “Well, they’re very handsome.”

  He grinned. “I used to dress like this every day. But then I made a fortune and everyone said I should put my dungarees away.” He stroked the faded old denim. “I miss them.”

  She folded her arms before her and studied him a moment. “Yes, they suit you.”

  He reached for her and she thrust two ceramic bowls at him.

  “Find us some spoons.”

  He did and a few moments later they were enjoying a meal together with none of the awkward tension of the last time they dined.

  Kate remembered something. “Oh, Sam, thank you for sending the tea.”

  He paused and smiled at her. “I’m trying to please you, Kate, in everything. I’m just still so new at this. Never spent this much time with a woman before. But you make it easy.”

  “Most of the time, you mean.”

  They shared a friendly smile as if they had done this many times before. He emptied his bowl and she rose to refill it.

  “Much as I’d like to keep you in night clothing, I guess I better see about getting your things sent up here.”

  She set a second helping before him.

  “I’m going to check on the rail workers farther up the mountain tomorrow and I want you along.”

  “You want to show me off again?” she asked, trying to keep her smile from slipping.

  He stared at her in silence for a moment. “No one up there to impress. It’s just my Chinese workers laying track and the Welsh laying charges, trying to bust a hole through the mountain for a tunnel. I imagine seeing you would be a welcome relief. Likely it’d be safer to leave you here till I get back, but I like having you around. Besides, I gotta keep you from climbing any more trees and shredding the rest of the duds I bought you.”

  He didn’t want to display her. She felt ashamed at her assumption. “I’m sorry about the lovely habit. It’s such a pity.”

  “Think your petticoats have reached the American River yet?”

  That thought made her blush and then laugh out loud.

  “I could get used to that sound,” he said accepting the second helping.

  Kate took her place across from him and wished she could stop time and stay here in this tiny cabin, for she could not recall another moment when she had ever been as happy as she was right now.

  Early the following morning the illusion of domestic bliss shattered with a persistent knocking at the door.

  Sam answered the summons, then dressed, kissed her and disappeared before Kate could crawl out of bed and drag on her borrowed robe. Where he got the energy, she could not fathom.

  Sam had abandoned her to see about the dam’s reconstruction, the cartographer’s safety and she could not recall what all.

  The enormity of the logistical details of such a massive project quite boggled her, but Sam seemed to feed off the energy he expended and, like a Yule log, only burned more brightly.

  Kate’s muscles ached today. She groaned as she lifted the heavy pitcher. Washing her face was a task because the soap and water stung the abrasions on her palms. But all in all, she felt lucky to be in one piece.

  Kate’s clothing arrived with her breakfast. Kate was again faced with a lumberjack’s meal, fully cooked and somewhat cold. The massive portion was accompanied with a piping hot pot of coffee. Kate tried not to let the setback dampen her enthusiasm. Sam was taking her to the track’s end to see the construction of the railroad.

  She was pleased to hear that Mr. Potts had resumed his duties and was personally seeing to their transport back down to the railroad. From there she would ride to nearly the last laid rail at the terminus some thirty miles east of Dutch Flats.

  As Kate finished what she could of the meal, Grace Mackenzie arrived. With her assistance, Kate dressed in a flamboyant day dress.

  “Never seen anyone wear more than three petticoats and that’s in the winter,” she observed, but laced the seven that Kate insisted on.

  The dress itself was a lovely cocoa-colored satin that shone with silver highlights in the sunshine. She wore brown kid slippers this day, as she would not be walking, riding or climbing trees.

  By midday, she discovered that the foreman’s wife had a teapot and tin of black tea. The water was heated and poured over he dry leaves. The aroma filled Kate with anticipation. She had just sat down to wait for the leaves to steep when Sam arrived.

  “The wagon’s ready and Potts is driving you.”

  Kate gasped in surprise and rose to her feet. Her savior had arrived.

  Sam’s smile dropped away as his gaze swept her. “Tarnation, look at you.” He extended his hand and she accepted it. He turned her this way and that. “You’re as shiny as a minnow.”

  She laughed. “Such a flatterer. I won’t be climbing any trees today, will I?”

  He chuckled and offered his elbow. “Not planning on it, but you never can tell. I do love those bloomers.”

  She leaned close and whispered. “Then why did you order me to abandon them our first night together?”

  He chuckl
ed and led her out. “Guess I like what’s underneath better.”

  His bawdy comment should have made her blush, but instead she squeezed his arm in delight, happy that he wanted her. Happy to be at his side.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She spared one longing glance at her untouched tea, but she could certainly forgo this to thank the man responsible for saving her life.

  “Sam, would you do something for me?”

  He nodded, without asking what that something might be.

  “Will you reward Mr. Potts in some way for the risk he took?”

  “I’ve promoted him, given him shares in the company and fired every bastard who ran.”

  Kate could only blink in shock. With all he had to do, he had managed that quite neatly.

  Kate drew on her gloves and recovered her hat.

  He offered his arm.

  A moment later she abandoned him to hug John Potts. Her embrace completely flummoxed the man, dissolving him into a red-faced, stammering fool.

  “Take a breath, son,” said Sam.

  Kate stood back, waiting. When Mr. Potts seemed to be breathing again, she thanked him.

  “Oh, it was nothing much.”

  “You are as modest as you are brave.”

  Sam helped her up in the wagon as John climbed to the opposite side. Sam motioned and four armed riders flanked the wagon.

  “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

  “I’ve got to meet the cartographers later on and there’s no wagon road up there, so you’re going back to the train for now.”

  Her disappointment showed on her face, but she said nothing to this. A mistress awaited her consort, not the other way around. She had absolutely no grounds to be cross.

  He took her hand and lowered his voice. His smile was pure promise. “I’ll be there after dark.”

  “Of course. Shall I wait supper for you?”

  “Naw. I’ll be late.”

  She leaned down and kissed his cheek. He waved to the riders and the small regiment pulled out. The journey was uneventful, but it was shocking to see all the damage the water had done to the road and the meadow below. The lovely wildflowers were flattened and the large boulders that had filled the stream had completely disappeared.