Joelle's Secret

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Joelle's Secret Page 27

by Gilbert, Morris


  “All right. My father was a doctor. My mother was the best woman I ever knew, and I had two brothers and one sister.”

  Logan’s voice was soft, and Edith faced him. She gave him a cup of tea at one point, and he drank it, and as he continued to sketch his life, she studied him again. Finally he gave an embarrassed half laugh and said, “I don’t know what’s got me talking like an old woman here.”

  “You had a good family.”

  “Yes. My parents are gone now and one of my brothers too. I have a sister in Cincinnati, and my brother lives in St. Louis. We don’t see each other very often. What about you?”

  “Not much to tell,” Edith said, and Logan saw that she was reluctant to speak about her life. “We weren’t close in my family. My mother died when I was nine, and I had to help raise my brothers and sisters. My dad wasn’t much help. He was a trifling man, a gambler. It was feast or famine. Sometimes he’d come in with money in every pocket, gifts for all of us, and sometimes we didn’t have anything to eat.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Edith shook her head. “That’s all past.” She placed a stick in the fire and watched until the tip caught flame. Then she held it up like a candle, and Logan noticed how fine her features were. He knew she had strength; he had seen that. He had the feeling that if necessary she could shoot a man down

  and not go to pieces afterward.

  “You probably wonder why I married Lyman.”

  “It always seemed like an odd match to me.”

  “To everybody. To me most of all. He was different when he was younger, at least when he was courting me. I knew he had some hard spots in his life, but I was lonely. I lost my family pretty young, and he had a good home, a nice farm, a place for me to go. I told him at the beginning that I didn’t love him as a woman should love a man she’s married to. But he only laughed at that.” She crossed her arms and looked up at the skies for a moment, then back at Logan. “He wasn’t a loving man, Logan. Mostly he wanted somebody to take care of his house.”

  Logan didn’t answer. Behind those few words he saw the skeleton of an unhappy marriage, but he had known this. He took her hand and saw her look of surprise. “I’ve been making up this speech for two or three days now. I guess you know what it’s going to be.”

  “I’d like to hear it, Logan.”

  Logan Temple was an educated man, but somehow he found himself searching for words. “I can’t say what I really feel. I went downhill and became a drunk. I’m glad to tell you I haven’t even missed it on this train. I think that’s because I made a bad mistake. When I was drinking, I hurt some people. Don’t like to think about that.”

  Edith was conscious of his hands holding hers. She waited, and when he looked up, she saw honesty in his eyes. “I guess all I can do is tell you, Edith, that I love you. Maybe you already knew that.”

  “I saw something in your eyes for me, Logan.”

  “I know it’s too soon, but would you think about marrying me? I wish you would. I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Edith’s eyes filled with tears. His honesty, simple and plain, was obvious. Logan Temple was a thing of beauty in her sight. She had seen some of the same sensitivity in Artie and none at all in Lyman or his two older sons. “Yes, I will marry you. There’s no point in waiting.”

  “You’d marry me now?”

  “Well, not tonight,” Edith suddenly laughed. She stood up and he stood with her. “When we get to Sacramento. It’ll be the shortest engagement on record. We’ll find a preacher, and we’ll get married. I promised Artie I’d help him buy a farm with the money that Lyman left.”

  “I can’t farm, but I’ll help you look. I like that young man.”

  Edith laughed again, a lighthearted sound.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  “You’re about the worst man at courting a woman I ever saw.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do, Edith? Quote poetry and play a guitar and sing songs?”

  “Yes, that’s what I want. Come courting me.”

  “I can’t do that, but I can do this.”

  He put his arms around her, and she came closer. Her eyes, he saw, were round, wide, and expressive, and there was an excitement in them he hadn’t seen before. The hint of a smile was at the corners of her mouth and in the tilt of her head. He pulled her forward and kissed her lightly.

  “I’ll court you any way you want, Edith. I love you. Do you feel the same way?” She didn’t answer him, and when he pulled her forward and kissed her again, she held him tightly. This is what I want, she thought. This is what I’ve wanted all my life.

  * * *

  “WELL, RECKON WE OUGHT to be in Sacramento day after tomorrow.” Chad had joined Owen who was still ahead of the train, his eyes still searching. He didn’t think there’d be Indians this close to Sacramento, but one never knew. “Been a pretty easy trip. We didn’t lose anybody to cholera.”

  “Too bad about Riker and Clyde,” Owen commented dryly.

  “I guess we were lucky. They shouldn’t have gone off that way by themselves.”

  “Lyman was a strong-minded fellow. Nobody could tell him what to do.”

  The two rode silently for a time. Suddenly, Chad spoke. “How do you feel about Joelle, Owen?”

  The question surprised Owen, and he turned to Chad, who was watching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m going to court her unless you’ve got ideas in that direction.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You’ve been the best friend I’ve had, Owen, and I don’t want to do anything to hurt that. You feel anything for the girl?”

  “Well, I feel responsible for her.”

  “Sure, sure, I know about all that. But I’m talking about I want to marry her. So, I guess I’m asking if you’d be in the way.”

  Owen could not answer for a moment, but the question stirred him. “If you love her, tell her so.”

  “It won’t bother you?”

  “The only thing that would bother me is if she got mistreated, and I know you’d never do that.”

  Chad studied Owen Majors’s profile. He knew the man wasn’t saying all that was in his heart, but Owen had always been guarded. Chad said, “I’m taking that as a yes. Guess I’ll go back and start my courting in earnest.” He wheeled his horse.

  Owen turned in the saddle to watch him go. For one moment he nearly spurred his horse forward to catch Chad and tell him—tell him what? He couldn’t find the words, and his head seemed to hum with thoughts. Confused, he finally spurred the big horse into a gallop as if he could run away from something.

  * * *

  JOELLE HAD RECEIVED CHAD’S visit the night before. He had, once again, announced his intention of courting her in a way she could barely resist. He had been joking, but he was also serious, she saw that. Laughing, she put him off. “You don’t even know me, Chad.”

  He had argued that he knew her well enough, that she was just what he wanted. But when he tried to kiss her, she had moved away, saying, “Don’t you start that.”

  The next day she watched Owen carefully, for Chad had told her he had mentioned his courting intentions to Owen. She was disappointed when Owen said nothing about it.

  Later that evening, she went to a small stream to fill water buckets. She bent over and was filling them when she heard a sound. She whirled quickly, thinking of Indians, but Owen approached her. He had a guarded look on his face, and when he stood before her, she couldn’t imagine what was on his mind.

  “I’ve got to talk to you, Joelle.”

  “All right, Owen. What is it?” Her voice was calm, but she felt nervous. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “Well, a couple of things.” Owen took off his hat and moved his hand across his brow. “I can’t get away from the Rikers’ dying.”

  “You’ve seen men die before.”

  “Quite a few, but somehow it got to me. They got up in the morning
just like always. Had no idea they’d be dead before the sun set.” He dropped his head and was silent for a long moment, then looked up at her. “And when Harry talked about what comes after death, it hit me hard. I haven’t been able to get away from what he read from the Bible.”

  Joelle said at once, “You need Jesus, Owen, just like we all do. He’s my only hope.”

  “I—I know you’re right. Maybe it’s time for me to find God.”

  “I wish you’d talk to Harry, Owen. He’s a good man and he wants to see you find the Lord. He’s told me so more than once.”

  “I’ll do that, right away.” He hesitated. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.” He fidgeted uncomfortably and then blurted out, “Chad told me he is going to ask you to marry him.”

  “He already has.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Why are you asking these questions, Owen?”

  Owen shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes fixed on her face. He seemed to be searching for exactly the right words, and finally he said, “You don’t need a man like Chad.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s your friend.”

  “He’s footloose.”

  “Why, so are you, Owen.”

  “Not anymore. I’ve had enough wandering around.”

  “That’s what Chad says.”

  “I think he means it, but he’s the wanderingest man I ever saw. He could never be still more than a day or two at a time. He’s not the man for you.”

  “And you’ve decided this, have you?” She had hoped Owen might say a word about his feelings for her, and when he didn’t, anger rose in her. “It’s none of your business who I marry. I’ll marry Chad if I want to.”

  Owen reached out and took her by the arm. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Chad is a good man. If I marry him, he’ll be good to me.”

  Owen shook his head. “He’s a good man, and he’d be good to you, but he’d be gone. He’d drag you all over creation. Why, he’s already talked about moving on.”

  “Turn me loose, Owen.” She waited until he removed his grip and then turned away.

  Joelle Mitchell was dejected. She knew she was in love with Owen Majors, but apparently he felt like only a surrogate father to her. She was not in love with Chad and knew she would never marry him. Owen was right. Chad was romantic, but he had talked already about going to Panama, of all places, and other things. He thought she wanted to go travel and see the world, but she’d had enough travel. She wanted a house and a home, a place where she could set down roots, and Chad wasn’t likely to give her that. Tears rose in her eyes and she sobbed once.

  Owen turned her around. “What’s to cry for, Joelle?”

  “I’m afraid, Owen.”

  “Afraid of what? Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “I know. That’s the story of my life. Nothing’s ever happened.”

  Suddenly, sorrow, disappointment, and the strain of the trip boiled over. She began to weep openly. Owen stared at her with astonishment. Then his face changed, and he pulled her forward. She put her head on his chest, and his arm was around her, and he was stroking her hair. He said nothing, but she wept as she had not wept since her mother died.

  “I don’t like to see you sad, Joelle,” Owen said gently.

  Joelle waited for him to say something. She longed to hear him speak of love, but he didn’t. She pulled away from him and said, “I’m going to bed.”

  Owen Majors felt helpless and knew he had failed her. When she disappeared, he returned to the wagon and tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. Finally he whispered bitterly to the stars, “Well, I made a mess out of this as I usually do!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “THIS IS THE UGLIEST place I’ve ever seen!” Joelle exclaimed. She was seated on Blackie, riding alongside Chad and Owen. The three of them were in the lead as they approached the mining area of Sacramento. Indeed, it was a sorry sight.

  A multitude of men were passing, and the landscape looked like a hive of diggers scurrying everywhere.

  “Looks like a huge anthill,” Chad said. “They sure are uglifying things.”

  Owen raised himself in the saddle and took in the sight before him. With its great deep holes and high heaps of dirt, the town was literally turned inside out. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. “You suppose all those fellows are finding gold?”

  “It’d take a lot of gold to satisfy all of them,” Chad murmured. “There must be a thousand of them.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll be separating here. For most of the train this is exactly what they’ve come for. There’s a man who looks like he’s in charge.”

  The man was wearing a black alpaca coat and carried a shotgun almost as long as he was tall. He was a short individual, broad and stocky, and his eyes peered at them from under his hat brim. He carried the shotgun at parade rest as he advanced toward them, and he seemed to be taking their measure. “Howdy,” he said finally. “Just getting to the digging?”

  “Came all the way from Independence,” Owen said. He looked over the wild melee of workers who seemed to have little time for one another as they dug furiously. “Does this go on all the time?”

  “Yep, it does,” he said. “My name’s Columbus Jergins.”

  “I’m Owen Majors. This is Chad Hardin and Miss Joelle Mitchell.”

  “Came to get rich, did you?”

  “Wouldn’t mind it a bit,” Chad smiled. “Maybe you could tell me how to go about it.”

  The man with the strange name of Columbus pulled his coat back and exposed a badge. “I’m the deputy sheriff of Sacramento. Got to keep order.”

  “I guess that’s quite a chore with this many men.”

  “Oh, there’s shootin’s pretty regular. Jail’s not big enough to hold them all yet. The judge fines them and turns them loose pretty much.”

  “Some of our folks are going to be looking for farmland. Don’t see anything that looks good around here,” Owen said.

  “No, you need to go down into the valley. Plenty of good farmland there. Pretty cheap too. Everybody’s gone crazy over gold.”

  Joelle was watching with fascination as men made the dirt fly. “Do they just dig gold up in chunks?”

  “Not likely, Miss.” Jergins grinned, which made him look like a catfish, with his broad face and wide mouth. “There are several ways of finding gold, but none of them guaranteed.

  There’s placer mining.”

  “What’s that?” Joelle asked.

  “Well, you got to separate the loose gold from the dirt it’s settled into. You don’t find it in chunks. It’s tiny little flakes called ‘colors.’ Sometimes a piece will be as large as a grain of wheat, and sometimes you find a lump called a nugget.”

  “What are those things over there?” Chad asked.

  “They’re called sluices. The usual way is to just take a pan and dig it down in a stream to pick up some gravel and sand. You turn your pan around and pour it out, and sometimes there’ll be gold settled at the bottom. You put the dirt in, and the water rushes down over them, and the gold gets caught as the dirt goes down the sluice. Sometimes you use a cradle. It’s a box so that water and gravel can be rocked and shaken, and the coarse material separates from the gold.” Jergins seemed to enjoy his lecture. “It won’t last long though.”

  “People getting rich?”

  “Well, a man named Steadland and his partners dug out two thousand dollars’ worth in two days, but, of course, most men don’t even make as much as a hired hand.”

  “It looks like they’ve all gone crazy.”

  Jergins removed his hat, exposing a thatch of salt-andpepper hair. He pulled a plug of tobacco from his pocket and bit off a chew. “Men are plum fools about it. They’ll do anything for gold. I guess you’ve seen lots of wagons coming west. Well, you’ll see them going east some of these days. These rushes don’t last too long
. Then a big mining company will buy it, bring in rock-crushing equipment, and run the small prospectors out of business.”

  The three listened as Jergins spoke, and finally he nodded and said, “I’ve got to go on my rounds. Haven’t heard a gunshot so I guess nobody got killed. There probably will be before supper time. Good to see you fellas. Ma’am, you be careful. It ain’t safe for a woman to walk alone.”

  “Pretty blunt fellow,” Chad grinned as the stocky deputy walked away. “Sounds like a wide-open town.”

  “Well, let’s pull the train off somewhere. We can talk about gold later.”

  Owen returned to the wagons and spoke to Ralph, and the train moved on through the diggings. The wagons stopped a mile away from the activity, although the travelers could see men working at small streams.

  “Don’t guess we’ll get ambushed by Indians,” Owen said to Ralph.

  “Nope. We made it fine. You done a good job.”

  “We were lucky—all except Lyman and Clyde.”

  The train drew up in a circle, and some of the miners had already left. Artie Riker approached and said, “What do we do now, Owen?”

  “Well, pretty much anything we want to. I’m going into Sacramento to see the sights.”

  “I’m going to find somebody who knows about the farming country around here. Me and Ma are going to buy us a nice place.”

  “What about Sid?”

  “He’s already left. He’s looking for a saloon, I think.”

  “I expect he’ll find them,” Chad nodded. “Where there’s this many footloose men, there’s bound to be lots of sin. You watch yourself, Artie. Don’t let any of these dance hall girls get their hands on you. A fine young fellow like you, why you’d be a target.”

  Artie flushed and glared at Chad. “I’m not starting anything like that.” He turned and walked away.

  “You shouldn’t tease him, Chad,” Joelle said. “He’s so easy to embarrass.”

  “Well, he’ll toughen up, I expect. What do you say we go on into Sacramento and see what she looks like.”

  “That suits me. Will you come, Owen?”

  “No, I’ll hang around here. You two go on.”

 

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