“How’s the foot?” Joseph bent down as if he was going to tweak her nose or something, but then straightened, like he’d thought better of it.
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
The girls returned, fortunate, since she could tell by the light in Joseph’s eyes that he was probably going to say something to dispute her claim.
“Joseph! I’m gonna help Annabelle fix supper!” Nugget’s clear voice made it impossible to feel too sorry for herself. Though she’d done a lot of things wrong over the past couple of days, at least this was clearly one area in which she’d done all right.
Concern littered his face. “Are you sure you should be doing anything with your injured foot?”
“I’m just peeling potatoes,” she told him with a smile. “I can do that sitting.”
“I’ll help.” Joseph sat next to her in the dirt. Did he have any idea how charming that grin was? Why couldn’t he be doing something useful with his life like being a banker or a teacher or a blacksmith or, well, just about anything other than a miner? As soon as he found silver, Joseph would leave, taking Nugget, and where would that leave her?
She turned away before he could see that her cheeks were feeling a bit warm. Surely she was as red as fire.
And really! She shouldn’t have been thinking such thoughts about Joseph anyway. About any man. Here, of all places. Where she’d met Henry and carelessly given her heart away knowing so little about him. She’d not make that mistake again.
Stronger in her convictions, Annabelle turned back to Joseph. “Haven’t you ever heard that too many cooks spoil the broth?” She dug in the bag of potatoes and began peeling the first one. “Nugget, have you ever peeled a potato?”
The little girl shook her head, and Caitlin stared at her wide-eyed. “Mama says knives aren’t for little girls.”
Unfortunately, that was just the right amount of inducement Joseph needed. “You girls fetch us some water and I’ll help Miss Annabelle.”
Miss Annabelle. Her cheeks heated again, which was absolutely silly, given the close quarters in which she’d found herself with him over the past day or so. She was used to much more familiarity from him, and yet, moving to more formal address felt… Something prickled in her heart, stinging and leaving her more alone than ever. Why had she thought that opening her heart to a friend would be a good idea?
The knife slipped in her hand, nearly nicking her skin. Why did she always have to be so clumsy around him?
Her father entered the campsite, and he looked at Joseph, then at her, almost as though he was signaling Joseph in some way. Joseph gave a quick nod.
Joseph cleared his throat. “Miss Annabelle, if I may, I’d like to escort you to the creek for some water.”
Did he grow daft all of a sudden? They’d just sent the— Annabelle glanced at her father, who nodded. Of course. Her father had something he wanted to have Joseph talk to her about. Right now, her heart couldn’t take any kind of talk. Especially not one encouraged by her father.
Annabelle lifted her swollen foot. “While I do appreciate your kind offer, you might recall that I’m unable to put any weight on my foot.”
Polite enough to satisfy even the stodgiest of matrons. She was very tempted to stick her tongue out at both Joseph and her father for being such meddling oafs, but that would only prove just how childish she was. Annabelle sighed.
Fortunately, Joseph looked just as relieved as she felt at the prospect of not having to go to the creek together—code for having a little chat, she was now certain.
“I’d forgotten. Please accept my apologies.”
“Certainly.” She smiled in the direction of her father. Annabelle dropped a peeled potato in the pot.
“You thoughtless wretch!” Polly grabbed the pot off the ground and glared at Annabelle. “Have you any idea how wasteful you’re being? Look how much potato you’ve taken off with the peel!”
The insides that had finally begun to feel more comfortable in this place knotted up. “I meant no harm,” Annabelle stammered. “This is how Maddie told me to do it.”
“There are a lot of hungry bellies to fill, and you’ve just wasted the food that goes into them.”
Annabelle looked at the pot of potatoes she’d carefully peeled the way Maddie had shown her. “I’ve only done a few. I’ll be more careful with the others.”
Then, because she couldn’t bear to look at her father or anyone else witnessing more of her humiliation, she looked at the ground. “As for filling hungry bellies, someone else can have my share of the potatoes. It’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do is—”
“Polly!” Gertie banged on one of the pots. “Just because you’re cross with Annabelle doesn’t give you the right to treat her like that.”
She marched over to where Polly stood over her with the pot. “You know how to fix potatoes the way Maddie does?”
Annabelle nodded. “But I can fix them the way you want. Just tell me what to do,” she said as quickly as she could.
Please, please, please, please let everyone see how hard I’m trying to be a better person. It was just potatoes, after all. Surely that wasn’t something to be declared sinful.
“I haven’t had Maddie’s potatoes in ages.” A smile filled Gertie’s face. “So if you know how to fix them, I’ll be looking forward to eating them.”
Gertie glanced at Polly with a look that dared her to defy her, but that’s just what Polly did. “So you’re taking her side, are you? Fine. But don’t expect me to go without because of her. Bad enough she made more work for me with the laundry. Then she goes off and has to play princess with the hurt foot. Well, you can count me out. I’m through putting up with her.”
Polly stomped off, leaving Annabelle feeling like a bug that had been squashed for no other reason than existing. Pure meanness, that’s what Polly’s words were.
Her stomach churned and turned sour in a different way. This is what she’d done to Polly. She’d said horrible things out of anger and hurt, and it had squashed something in Polly’s heart.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled again, knowing that no amount of times she said it would ever change what had caused this mess to begin with.
Joseph placed his hand over hers. “It’s all right. She’s hurting, too. I’m sure she didn’t mean to offend you.”
At least the old Joseph was back. Even under the weight of her father’s stare, she couldn’t ask Joseph to remove his hand. Someone cared for her. Someone understood how awful this whole situation was, and how she’d never meant for any of it to happen.
“Yes, she did,” Annabelle said softly. “And I know I deserved it, I just…”
Her throat felt raw and ached like she was coming down with something. But it wasn’t that. That she knew, even without a doctor. “I guess I see why they say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. I was hurting, so I let the harsh words take over, which led to Polly hurting, and then she needed to be mean to me.”
Annabelle removed her hand from Joseph’s and picked up another potato and began peeling. “I suppose it’ll eventually wear itself out.”
Her father stood and motioned to Gertie, who followed him out of sight of the tents. Probably more discussion over how to solve the problem of Annabelle.
Joseph picked up a potato. “Why is Polly so upset with you?”
“Because.” Annabelle sighed. There was so much to the story that Joseph didn’t understand. That no one understood. Because the one person to whom she’d bared her soul was gone.
“I was in love once. With a miner. I thought Henry a good man, and he helped with my family’s ministry. But then the sickness hit over the winter, and Henry wanted to leave. He wanted to avoid getting sick, and besides, there was gold in Alaska.”
She set another potato in the pot, trying to focus on the task at hand so her heart didn’t ache the way it always did when she remembered how selfish Henry had been. “I was needed at home to care for my family. He
promised to wait. But then Polly came to see me. Told me he’d left without saying goodbye. I called her a liar.”
Her knife got caught in the potato, and Joseph took it from her. “Let me do that. You just focus on the story.”
“There is no more.” She sucked in a deep breath as she turned to look over the fire. It should have been warm, only all she felt was cold inside. “I asked why she would deliberately hurt me with such lies when she knew how I was hurting already. I’d already watched as they’d taken Susannah’s and Peter’s bodies out to the icehouse to be kept until the ground was thawed enough to bury them. I couldn’t imagine why Henry would abandon me at such a time, so Polly must’ve been lying.”
The fire popped, and Annabelle jumped, bringing her attention back to Joseph. “Turns out, Polly was telling the truth. I believed in a scoundrel over my dearest friend.”
“Your dearest friend should have understood.”
Annabelle reached for another potato and began peeling again. “Maybe. But I hurt her, and I shouldn’t have.”
“Even if Polly was hurt by your words,” Joseph said quietly, “she had no right to speak to you like that. Or even to tell lies about you.”
She looked up at him. Why did he have to be so wrong for her? “Thank you.” She finished the last potato and brushed off her skirt. “I wish…”
No, she couldn’t say what she wished. She wished too many things that would never come true.
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She turned her head, wishing she could stand and get away from the closeness of this man who confused her so.
“It does matter. And I…” Joseph looked in the direction her father had gone, then back at her. “Annabelle, your father has asked me to get something straight with you. As a gentleman, I need to be sure that I don’t dishonor you in any way.”
Not another proposal. Annabelle’s heart fluttered in the pit of her stomach. If he asked, she’d almost say yes. Except the retelling of her story reminded her just how little she knew of Joseph. She’d known Henry far longer, had known him to be honorable, and been betrayed.
“Your father is concerned that you might have…feelings…for me.” His shoulders rose and fell as he glanced again in the direction her father had taken Gertie. “I assured him that we were merely friends, but he felt it necessary to clarify my intentions.”
If a person could die of mortification, she’d do so right at this very moment. How could her father be so…so… Annabelle sighed. She did have feelings for Joseph. But they weren’t the sort a person ever acted upon.
Joseph cleared his throat. “You know my situation. I have a brother and sisters to care for back home. I intend to move them west somewhere, but I can’t promise anything to anyone. All I know is that my duty lies with them. I can’t be a proper husband to any woman knowing that I have seven others to provide for.”
He looked at her with such tenderness, it made her heart want to break. “If I were to take a wife, I would want her to be every bit as bold and strong as you. But I can’t. It’s impossible for me to marry. Not when I have the children to raise. It’s an impossible burden to put on anyone.”
He had said as much before. Yet this time, it made her heart ache in an unfamiliar way. “Of course your family must come first,” she said, hoping it sounded sympathetic to his cause. It wasn’t as though she wanted him for herself.
Joseph’s slow nod only made her feel worse. “Good. So then we have an understanding. Your father will be much relieved to know that your heart isn’t entangled.”
She forced a smile to her face, not caring if he saw through it or not. Over Joseph’s shoulder, she could see her father and Gertie returning. For all they saw, it was a perfectly amiable conversation that wasn’t creating strange feelings in her stomach. She was fine. Just fine. Or at least she would be once these feelings left. Because they all knew that based on both his words and hers, anything between them was an impossibility.
*
The old Annabelle had returned. Joseph watched as she greeted her father with a smile and a too-friendly tone. On the surface, the conversation had gone well, but he knew better than to trust her glib answers. But what else could he do? Carrying on the conversation meant digging in to the places of each other’s hearts that neither was willing to risk. He simply couldn’t afford to, and whatever Annabelle’s motivations, it didn’t matter.
Frank stared at him with a keen eye, questioning. Joseph gave a small nod to indicate that they’d had the conversation.
“All is well?” Frank addressed the question to Annabelle, but looked at Joseph.
“Yes, Father,” she told him in a perfectly proper tone. “Joseph and I are clear that neither of us have intentions toward the other.”
Frank looked almost shocked, taking a step back. Gertie’s soft gasp all but accused Annabelle of being impertinent. Then again, the whole situation bordered on impertinence. Things had been fine between him and Annabelle until her father had decided to protect his daughter’s honor.
Joseph rubbed his temples. He couldn’t fault Frank. If he’d thought anyone trifling with any of his sisters’ affections, he’d have insisted upon the same conversation.
Annabelle indicated the pot beside her. “I have the potatoes ready. If someone could put them on the fire, I would be much obliged.”
The rest of the evening passed with the same sullen silence he’d had from Annabelle when they first met. No one could accuse her of being rude, and some would probably even say that she was pleasant. But she wasn’t Annabelle.
Why should he care? He wasn’t supposed to have these feelings. Joseph rose from his spot by the fire. “I’m going to retire for the evening.”
None of the other men had come in, so Joseph lit a lamp and began looking through the books he’d brought from his pa’s cabin. The first book appeared to have strange markings and notes in the margins. Almost as though he’d used it as a sort of diary, only it wasn’t straight prose. Certain words were circled, but even put together, they made no sense.
Annabelle might claim there was no treasure, but his pa wouldn’t have gone to all of this trouble to throw people off track if there hadn’t been. He’d covered it up too carefully. And that wasn’t the sort of man his pa was.
Plus with the attacks on Annabelle and Nugget…someone was after something.
Perhaps the silver wasn’t worth pursuing. Not at the risk of… Joseph sighed and closed the book. What alternative did he have? How else would he provide for his family?
He picked up his pa’s Bible and began searching through it. Entire passages had been underlined, not just the random words of his other book. It should have brought comfort to Joseph to know that his pa had read God’s Word. How could he then justify his relationship with another woman when he had a wife waiting for him at home? His pa’s first priority should have been his family, yet he’d created this whole new life without them. He could have accepted that his pa had fallen in love. But what was love when you had a family to provide for? Certainly the Bible didn’t condone such a life.
Joseph wasn’t going to be like his pa, forsaking family for love.
He tried reading the pages, but they seemed tainted, coming from his pa’s Bible. Lord, I know these feelings about my pa are wrong. Please help me forgive.
Those words seemed easier to think than to live out. The words in the Bible jumbled in such a way that he could barely read them.
Maybe the Psalms would give him some peace. King David had struggled with his enemies, so perhaps his words would comfort. As he flipped to the right section of his Bible, Joseph noticed that his pa had again circled random words. None of it made sense.
Until…
As he looked back and forth between the pages of circled words, he began to see a pattern. The. Key. To. The. Silver.
Dear Lord, he had found it. His pa had been circling words in his books to indicate where his silver had been hidden. Joseph pulled out his journal and began copying wo
rds. Not all of them made sense, and not all of them were as easily connected as the words he’d found. His pa had left a map to his treasure, only he’d done it in a sneaky way so that others couldn’t figure it out. Please Lord, let me be able to decipher the code.
He looked around the tent. With so many people after his pa’s silver, it wasn’t safe to leave the books lying around. He’d already put Annabelle and Nugget in danger, and he couldn’t risk Gertie’s family, as well. Tomorrow he’d find a safe place.
The tent flapped open, and Slade entered.
“I didn’t know this was your tent.”
Slade eyed him, then shrugged. “I stay here when I’m at camp. Collin’s boys stayed up the mountain tonight, so it’s just the two of us.”
Even though he had no problem with the other man and would be working with him to find his pa’s silver, something about the way Slade looked at him didn’t sit right.
“I’m just finishing my Bible reading, so if you’ll give me a minute to put the books away, I can turn the lamp out.”
Slade gave another shrug. “Doesn’t make any difference to me. I’ve learned to sleep where I can.”
He laid out his bedroll and made motions of getting ready for bed, but Joseph could feel the other man watching him.
Joseph turned down the lamp and settled in to sleep.
“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” Slade’s voice broke into the darkness.
“I’m at your mercy. I think going to the site we were talking about earlier today makes a lot of sense.”
Slade grunted. “Be ready to ride at first light.”
The man’s snores soon filled the tent, and Joseph wished he could have the same ease. But every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the look in Annabelle’s eyes as she talked about the heartbreak she’d endured. He understood that pain. If it weren’t for their already awkward situation, they could have comforted each other. But they’d crossed too many lines, and Joseph couldn’t afford to get any more emotionally involved with Annabelle.
He tucked the blanket tighter around him. He wasn’t supposed to care. Didn’t care. Fine, did. Now he was getting to be as bad as Annabelle. Only in this instance, the worst of his lies were the ones he told himself. No, they weren’t lies. Just the uncomfortable results of the reality he found himself in. Here, in the dark of night, in the presence of the Lord, he could admit that he might be falling for Annabelle.
Love Inspired Historical November 2014 Page 85