What would it be like to have such a large family to celebrate with? Pa had once received a letter from his married sister, whose husband had taken over the family farm in Ohio and ran it with the help of their eight children. And, of course, Eliza had Uncle Henry, but with the exception of her uncle, she’d never met any of her living relatives. She barely remembered her grandparents, who’d remained behind when Mama’s yearn for adventure lured them west. “Your home sounds nice.”
“It is.”
For a few seconds, the only sounds were the rustling plants, babbling waters, and the clop of their horses’ hooves.
Daniel steered his mount closer to her. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Oregon, mostly. We moved there when I was seven to homestead.” She looked away, studying the ripples of the river. Her memories of that trip were hazy. Except for that one awful day, carved into her heart—
She shook the thought away. Most of her memories were of walking beside the wagon, first with Mama…
And later alone.
“Did your whole family travel west? You’ve never mentioned your mother.”
Her breath hitched.
Sliding rocks. Cracking wood. Men shouting. Women screaming. A dog barking. “Eliza, no!”
She struggled to breathe past the lump clogging her throat. Turning away, she pretended fascination with the hills. It was a full minute before she could speak. “Mama’s buried beside the trail.” She swallowed. “There wasn’t time for a ceremony. We couldn’t even mark her grave, for fear it’d be disturbed.”
“I’m so sorry.” He leaned across and squeezed her arm. “I shouldn’t have pried.” The terrain forced them to separate again.
If Eliza dwelled on Mama’s passing, the tears would return. Better to talk about after that.
“We were the first in our area to get our cabin built. It took four long, hard years, but we earned our certificate free and clear. Oh, and what beautiful land it is, the way the grass glistens after the rain, the musky scent of the pines, the soft trickling of the stream running through it, and the song of the meadowlark ringing across the field. You’ve never seen anything like it. God’s handiwork is so clear up there.”
“Sounds like you miss it.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Why’d you leave?”
She frowned. Pa had been obsessed with getting to California to claim his share of the gold. “Why’d you leave home?” She gave him a pointed look.
“You came to California for gold?”
“Pa did. I came along to take care of him.”
“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”
“No.” Her brows dipped down. “Pa needed me—needs me. If I’d been with him when he came to San Diego he wouldn’t be…” What? In trouble? She didn’t know that he was in trouble. Or that he isn’t. “Well he wouldn’t be missing, that’s for sure.”
“Mmm.” Mr. Clarke’s tone revealed doubts, but he didn’t elaborate.
More time passed in silence.
Daniel adjusted his hat. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to Oregon?”
“I’m going back as soon as I find Pa.”
“You are?” His eyebrows lifted. “What about your father?”
She lifted a shoulder. “We’ll go together.”
“Have you talked to him about this?”
“I wrote to him about it.” Not that he’d acknowledged her suggestion in his next letter. She shifted in her saddle. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You said your brother is building his own house. Surely you aren’t planning to live in your parents’ home once you’re married?”
Daniel straightened in the saddle. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed so long in California. I have enough now for Alice and me to start our life together.”
A life he was putting on hold for Eliza. “Alice is your fiancée?”
“Yes. Miss Alice Stevens.”
Wait. What was Mr. Clarke’s Christian name? She giggled.
Mr. Clarke stiffened. “You find my fiancée’s name amusing?”
“No.” She grinned at him. “Sorry, it’s just that I realized that, after all this time, here we are riding through the wilderness and well…” She laughed again. “I don’t even know your Christian name.”
“Oh.” He relaxed. “Daniel. Daniel Adam Clarke, at your service, Miss Brooks.” He tipped his hat to her with a grin.
Daniel Adam Clarke. She liked it. It suited him. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Daniel Adam Clarke.” She dipped her head, then grinned back at him. “What do you say? Should we dispense with the formalities now? I would be pleased to have you call me Eliza.”
“And you must call me Daniel.” He returned his attention to the trail ahead of them. “Whoa!” He reined his horse to a halt and held his hand out to signal Eliza to stop. “Wait a minute.”
Daniel dug the map out of his pocket. He unfolded it and lifted it to catch the light of the sun lowering behind them.
Beside him, Eliza leaned forward, squinting into the distance. “What is it?”
“Mission San Diego de Alcala. Or what once was.” He waved a hand toward the distant rows of tents surrounding a large adobe structure. Men wandered the grounds, but Daniel wasn’t near enough to make out their faces. What he could see, though, were their uniforms. “The cavalry has taken it over.”
He pointed to the bend in the squiggly line on the map. “The river turns north ahead.” In the northwest corner of the river’s bend was a small rectangle indicating the mission. He considered the hills bordering the northern portion of the valley. “Let’s head up these hills and come back to the river here.” He pointed at a place on the map far beyond the mission. “With the tall scrub brush and the fading light, we should be able to pass unnoticed.”
“Unnoticed?” Eliza’s brows pinched together. “Shouldn’t we ask the soldiers if Pa came through here?”
He’d considered it when Farley mentioned the outpost this morning, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Would she agree? “From what I gathered, your father was only in town for a couple weeks. If he passed through the mission at all, it was nearly a year ago. The soldiers aren’t likely to remember him. It’s not worth the risk to your reputation.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “But they might remember him.”
Stubborn woman. He tilted his head and gave her a pointed look.
She threw up her hands. “Oh, all right. We’ll go around this time.” She lifted her chin.
“But if we don’t find him in the mountains and have to come back this way, I am going to ask, whatever the consequences.”
Of course, she would. He nudged his horse toward the hills. Lord, please don’t let it come to that.
Chapter 21
A cold breeze sent a shiver through Eliza as she followed Daniel through the thick brush at the peak of the hill. The last vestiges of the sun’s rays were gone, but the moon had yet to appear. Only twinkling stars lit their way.
Daniel pulled to a stop in a small clearing.
Would they camp here for the night? Her aching back begged for relief. Her backside was numb. She wiggled the toes in her boots and was rewarded with the sensation of pins and needles pricking her feet. Standing on them wouldn’t be pleasant.
Daniel twisted to face her. “We should dismount and walk the horses to avoid injuring them. They aren’t the youngest animals, and I’m not sure how well they can see in this thick brush without the moon.”
She grimaced as he slid off his horse. Would her body support her?
She pressed a hand to her back and stretched before gingerly swinging her right leg around the back of the horse.
Daniel’s hands circled her waist, and tingles trilled up her spine. He eased her to the ground. As she turned, his hands on her waist sparked a fluttering in her stomach.
Squelching the unwanted feelings, she focused on straightening her unsteady legs.
He tipped his head, catching her gaze. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and, now confident that her legs would support her, stepped away. “Just not used to riding horseback for so long.”
“It won’t be much longer now. I just want to get us a little farther from the mission to avoid encountering any patrolling soldiers.” He returned to his horse. “You ride like a natural.” Grabbing the reins, he lead the way through the brush on foot.
“We had horses in Oregon.” She sighed as she stepped over a fallen branch. “But after we’d been working the mines for a while, I realized we needed the money more than the horses and I sold them. I haven’t ridden since.”
“I still can’t believe your father took you to the mines with him.”
Her shoulders sank. “You think Pa should have left me behind.” Every one who had heard her story had said something similar. Why did Daniel have to agree with them? And why did she care? He’d be gone soon enough. His fiancée was waiting for him.
“No.” He stopped and faced her. “You were his daughter. You deserved more than a childhood spent in the mines. He should have stayed in Oregon and raised you where it was safe and proper. From what you’ve described, it doesn’t sound like he needed the money. Forgive my saying so, but your father was being greedy and selfish to drag you away from your home to chase after gold.”
“He was not!” Her fingers tightened on the leather reins. How dare he say such things about Pa? “You don’t even know him. You don’t understand. He just…” She searched the black silhouettes of the plants surrounding them as if the answer lay hidden in the darkness. Why had Pa come to California?
Her fingers flew to her lips. It was true. Pa hadn’t needed the gold.
But he had needed to come to California.
As happy as she’d been in Oregon, Pa never found peace there. Eliza’s efforts to fill the void she’d caused never succeeded. Because no matter how little or how much they had, Pa always needed more.
Eliza shook her head. “You don’t understand. Pa is a good man. He’s just…lost.”
And it’s my fault.
Less than an hour later they rejoined the river and, with the moon lighting their way, remounted their horses. Although used to the physical exertion of carpentry work, Daniel’s body still ached from the hours of nonstop travel.
He twisted to check on Eliza. Her perfect posture was sagging and she shivered, but she appeared steady in her saddle and hadn’t uttered one word of complaint. Considering her leisurely life with the Davidsons, it was a wonder she hadn’t begged him to stop.
He faced forward, smiling. He’d known men with less tenacity.
They continued along the river for another two miles beside a long, disused and crumbling aqueduct. As they rode, the land on either side of the river rose to form a gorge. Daniel followed a narrow path that broke off from the river. It led to a terrace in the steep hill with a grouping of trees and shrubs. The plants sheltered them from the cold night winds.
He dismounted and assisted Eliza from her horse.
Taking the reins, he tethered the horses to a nearby tree with plenty of grasses beneath it. After tucking his gloves into the saddle bag, he withdrew a loaf of bread, a jar of preserves, and a small knife, that he handed to Eliza. “Will you slice the bread while I open the preserves?”
She removed her gloves. “Of course.” She drew her kerchief from her pocket and spread it on the ground in place of a table.
They worked together to slice the bread and spread preserves on two slices. When they were finished, he stashed the leftovers in the satchel and waited for her to take a seat.
A moment passed and she remained standing.
He gestured toward the ground, indicating that she should sit.
Her chin dipped. “I, uh, think I’ll stand.”
He frowned. Just when he’d begun to think she wasn’t as fastidious as she seemed, she turned up her nose at a little dirt. How had she survived the gold mines? “We’ll be traveling for days. Do you intend to stand at every meal?”
“Well, I—”
“If you’re concerned you’ll soil your new dress…” He let his words trail off as he waved to the layer of dust and bits of plants coating the lower portion of her skirts.
“No, it isn’t that. I…” She closed her eyes before continuing in a rush. “I’m not sure I’m capable of lowering myself gracefully.”
He clamped his lips between his teeth to keep from laughing, but she peeked one eye open and must have noted his amusement because her other eye flew open and she glared at him.
She planted her free hand on her hip and winced. The muscle must be sore.
Laughter burst from his lips, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh, all right.” Her tone was stiff, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She held her hand out imperiously. “Quit laughing and help me down.”
He took her hand—and the heat of their connection evaporated his mirth.
Chapter 22
Daniel shook his head as he stood on the sandy bank of the river, a slice of bread in one hand and canteens dangling from the other. What was happening to him? He’d never reacted to a woman’s touch this way. It needed to stop. But how to make it stop?
He stared at his hand holding the canteen straps. Did the warmth linger? Or was he imagining it? No. He wouldn’t dwell on the sensation. He needed to think rationally.
Touching caused the feeling. And holding her gaze. So he would avoid touching her. And looking at her.
With a harsh laugh, he scuffed his foot in the dirt. That was hardly practical, given the journey they were on. What was he to do? He shouldn’t be having these feelings for her. It wasn’t fair to Alice. Sweet Alice had been waiting three long years for his return. Yet even as he scolded himself, he wanted nothing more than to climb out of this gorge and take Eliza into his arms. To pull her close and…
Daniel sank to his knees in the sand. Forgive me, Lord. Please, take these feelings from me. Help me to be a man of my word, the man I know you would have me be.
He closed his eyes. What am I doing here? Did You lead me to protect Eliza, or am I pursuing my own desires?
A bolt of conviction straightened his spine. I did listen to the Lord. He guided me on this path. Regardless of these unwelcome feelings, my intent is sincere.
Lord, please help me remain true to the woman I love and am promised to.
Do you truly love Alice?
He frowned at the small, nagging voice in his head. Of course I do.
Her loving letters had kept him going through the long, lonely days and nights. Knowing she was waiting for him kept him away from the sinful temptations that claimed his companions. His anchor in a sea of change, her letters kept him tethered to home. Until they’d stopped.
Unlike Eliza, Daniel had reports from his mother to assure him of Alice’s wellbeing. What must it be like for Eliza to not know whether her father still lived?
Daniel set the canteens in the dirt, balanced the slice of bread on top, and retrieved the letters from his pocket, where he’d stowed them before leaving his trunk in Mr. Tebbett’s care. He opened his mother’s letter first and reread it before returning it to his pocket.
Then he unfolded the worn pages of Alice’s last letter.
April 25th, 1853
My darling Daniel,
* * *
I have the most exciting news! There is to be a Summer Ball! As usual, Benjamin has agreed to escort me in your absence. I would much rather be on your arm, as you know, but as I cannot have you, I am delighted to have your brother, at least. Mrs. Willaker has been hired to sew me a new gown exactly like the one…
Daniel skimmed over the details of her dress and speculations about who might escort whom to the ball.
Caroline, of course will be escorted by Mason Jefferson. He has finally proposed after all these years, and they have set their wedding date for the first of next May. You absolutely must return to me before
then, my darling. People are already asking how I will feel to be the last of our family to marry. Though, of course, Richard is not yet married, but they do not count him. I do not worry about it, though. I know that you would not wish such humiliation on me, and therefore trust that you will return before then.
* * *
I have everything planned out for our wedding and my trousseau is complete, although I may need to make a few minor adjustments to keep up with the fashions. But that is merely a trifle. It is nothing compared to the joy of having you in my arms and calling you “husband,” at last.
* * *
Do hurry home, my love.
* * *
Yours truly,
* * *
Alice
* * *
Daniel refolded the letter.
He had written her in reply, stating how glad he was that she had his brother to keep her company in his absence. He explained that business had slowed, so it would take him a little longer to reach the sum he had in mind. He didn’t want to return without the confidence that they would have what they needed to begin their life together. He’d mailed his letter with the next ship, but received no reply.
When two more of his letters went without reply, questions picked at his mind. Had she found another man—one not so far away—who turned her affections? Several men of Daniel’s acquaintance had received letters bearing such tidings.
He shook his head. No such letter had come for him and he would not think so poorly of Alice. Aside from the missing letters, she had given him no cause to doubt her loyalty. She must be angry with him for not returning. Perhaps she hoped her silence would convince him to return in haste.
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 15