“You’re welcome.”
Daddy walked him to the door, letting in the cool night air as they said their good-byes in the opening. After shaking Nate’s hand, Daddy closed the door and returned to the table. “Nice young man. I look forward to working with him in the livery.”
Rebekah’s ears tingled, and her heart leapt. Nate would be working in the livery. Daddy hadn’t said a word until now. The evening brightened again. Humming, she ignored her mother’s knowing manner as she heated water to wash the dishes.
Nate blew out a long breath as he retrieved his horse. He’d never get used to people asking about his family, no matter how nice the person doing the questioning. The Weaver family proved to be some of the best. Thanks to a wonderful evening, Nate had just shortened his suspect list.
He’d felt a bit underhanded, misleading them about his reason for being in town and asking about the mine trouble like he did, but he consoled himself with the fact that he hadn’t lied. Not really. They’d drawn their own conclusions from the minuscule amount of information he’d offered. Once he found the culprits causing all the trouble, he could tell them the whole truth.
And speaking of the truth, his curiosity about Rebekah and her burn scars increased all through the meal. She said very little beyond defending herself against her brother’s exaggerated claims of the creek incident, but she intrigued him all the more when she revealed her good sense of humor. To go through an obvious tragedy and come out smiling deserved anyone’s admiration. Though the scars were difficult to look at, the person behind them left Nate impressed and wanting to know more. Did she get them from one of the mining skirmishes? Had she gotten too close? He might never find out, but it didn’t keep his mind from wondering.
The silver disk she wore on her necklace added yet another question. He could see something written on the odd ornament, but in the dim lighting, the inscription was unclear. It shouldn’t matter, but he wanted to know its significance. And not only that, but in a mining town, wearing something of value could put one’s life in danger.
North along Jordan Street, toward the Idaho Hotel Mr. Weaver mentioned, a row of lamplights burned, their oily odor heavy on the night air. The need to lean back a bit in his saddle let Nate know he rode downhill. He couldn’t wait until morning to get a better look at his new but temporary home. From what he’d seen earlier and could tell now, most of the town was built on a slant. He’d be surprised if there was a flat place in the entire town, which seemed to sprawl a good distance each direction.
Not many people wandered in this area. By the sounds drifting toward him, most of the town’s night owls occupied the next street over, back toward the saloon, where the fight had taken place. If he weren’t so tired, he’d join them for a while for the chance to meet more of the residents. But drinking men wearing guns were dangerous, and he’d have to be prepared for trouble. A good night’s sleep was just what he needed for that type of confrontation.
Hearing a distant rumbling, he reined in his horse and glanced back, certain what he’d heard was another explosion, most likely from one of the mines. South of town, low on the ridgeline, a fiery glow dimmed the shimmer of stars. Rather than wait for the sheriff and possibly give away his identity, Nate spurred his horse past the Weavers and up the side of the mountain. He’d somehow investigate the cause, even if it meant helping to put out a fire or digging in the dirt for answers.
Chapter Five
Rebekah rushed through breakfast, nearly choking on her dry biscuit as she swallowed too soon. She tried to cover up with a cough while blowing her nose. Never would she admit out loud that the sooner she got to work, the sooner she’d see Nate.
Mama wiped her mouth. “If you’re getting sick from your dunking yesterday, I could work for you today.”
“I’m not getting sick,” Rebekah said in a burst, then peeked to see if her mother had noticed.
Mama buried a smile in her napkin. Sneaky woman.
Rebekah could play the game too. She motioned around the cabin. “But if you’d like me to stay and do some cleaning while you go—”
“No, thank you. I was on my feet all day yesterday until your father sent me home. I think I’ll stay home today.”
Rebekah eyed her mother over the rim of her glass. She’d been looking tired lately. Saying a silent prayer for Mama’s health, Rebekah stood, cleared the table, and made short work of washing the breakfast dishes. Much as she wanted to get to the store, she’d rather give Mama a rest. With Daddy leaving early instead of staying to eat a bite, she had less to clean up than usual. She wanted to ask why Daddy didn’t stay for breakfast, but she had the awful feeling it had something to do with the mining troubles, and there was no need to add more worries to the load Mama already carried.
“All right, I guess I’ll go open the store, unless there’s something you need me to do.” At Mama’s nod, Rebekah gave Mama a kiss on the cheek, noting her temperature felt normal. Thank You, Lord.
“I’m fine, dear. I’ll just do some mending before I start on lunch. Look for Andrew to bring it to you about noon.”
Rebekah wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “Sounds perfect.”
Andrew had already run off outside. She headed to the barn for a fast chat with him before starting work. Mama didn’t need to be chasing him around for any reason.
Opening the barn door, she spied Andrew, rope in hand, staring up at the rafters. “And just what do you plan on doing once you get that rope over the beam?”
Like a startled rabbit, Andrew jumped and hid the end behind his back. Rebekah grinned as she shuffled through the fresh straw strewn across the barn floor, knowing she’d have to pluck several stems from the hem of her skirt. “Too late. I already saw what you were doing.”
His bottom lip jutted out. “I just wanted to make a swing. Daddy’s been too busy.”
He was right about that. Too bad Michael hadn’t stayed for the summer instead of leaving for school a couple months early. He used to do just this sort of thing for Andrew. She’d do it for him if she knew how. Besides, leaving the job for Andrew would give him something harmless to work on for a while. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Just be careful, all right?”
He nodded.
“I’ve got to get to work. Promise you’ll be good so Mama doesn’t have to get after you.”
He batted his long lashes. “I promise.”
Rascal. He knew how to get to her. She kissed the end of his nose. He pulled away and scrubbed his face with his sleeve. “Ew, Bek. Don’t do that.”
“Behave yourself, or I’ll do it in front of everyone in town.”
Eyes wide, he shook his head. “I’ll be good.”
She moved to give him a hug. He ducked under her arm and scooted away, his expression revealing his disgust. If she wasn’t in such a hurry to get to work, she’d chase him down for the chance to pester him, like he always did her. Instead, she waved and scurried out the door.
Heart nearly fluttering at the idea of seeing Nate, Rebekah wondered why she’d reacted so strongly toward him. Thousands of men had come and gone through Silver, but none had caught her attention like Nate. Not that any man had given her more than a second glance once they saw her face. Even Nate had difficulty looking at her, but at least he tried. Over the past year, she’d come to realize the beauty inside a person was more important than outward appearances. Maybe Nate, a true gentleman, would have the ability to see beyond the surface. Only time would provide the answer.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, the walk didn’t seem nearly as long as usual, yet Rebekah felt she’d never get there. A glance reminded her to mention to her father that the place could use a fresh coat of paint. Actually, most of the buildings in town needed to be brightened up a bit. Too late she realized the brass knob didn’t turn in her hand and she nearly smacked her nose on the window. Odd. Daddy usually had the store open for her. Searching the bottom of her bag, she found the key, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. “Da
ddy?”
Instead of his usual cheerful greeting, a strange quiet met her ears, and no lamp burned to light the way to the back. Heart now hammering, Rebekah wound her way through a row of barrels filled with rice and flour to the storage room.
“Daddy, are you here?”
With the leather apron Daddy used in the livery still dangling from the peg and no coat hanging in its place, Rebekah knew her father hadn’t been to the store this morning. She raced to the side door. Surely she’d find him in the livery. Maybe he’d forgotten to open the store because of helping Nate get started with his new job.
In moments, she was across the alley and inside the livery. Her father, along with Sheriff Caldwell and Mr. Gilmore, stood at the water trough at the front, plying Nate with questions while he scrubbed his face and hands, both black. Nate’s clothes were in the same grubby condition.
Rebekah found her voice. “Daddy?”
He craned his neck around the group. “Rebekah?” He glanced at the sky. “I’m sorry, honey. I lost track of time. I’ll open the store now.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got it.” She continued to stare at Nate until her father stepped between them. His blockade didn’t stop her curiosity. “What happened?”
He urged her toward the store with a hand on her back. “I’ll come talk to you later.”
“Daddy.” She stared him square in the eyes. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
He examined her face, his own becoming contrite. “No, you’re not. I apologize.” He glanced behind him. “One of the mills burned down during the night. Nate saw it when he left our house and went to help.”
Concern forced her to move the few steps to Nate’s side. “Were you hurt?”
Nate straightened from the trough and shook the water from his hands. Rebekah untied her apron and handed it to him. He looked skeptical.
“I can get another from the store. Go ahead and use this to dry off.”
He took it from her. “Thank you.”
Black soot smeared the cloth as he wiped his face, neck, and hands. She’d never get it white again, but for the first time, it didn’t matter. Some of the soot remained around his eyes, and a day’s growth of beard darkened his face, giving him a rugged look. Not to mention it made his pale green eyes seem even lighter. Goodness, what this man did to her insides.
“I’m fine.”
Rebekah blinked several times in an attempt to focus. “Pardon?”
Nate grinned, showing his even, white teeth. “You asked if I was hurt. I’m not.”
“Right.” Get ahold of yourself! “I’m glad.”
“Rebekah, honey?” Daddy clasped her elbow and turned her to face him. She couldn’t help but see the humor gleaming from his eyes. “Nate will need a change of clothes. Would you get a shirt and trousers from the store?”
He’d just given her a chance to escape and pull herself together. Besides, the other men were now staring. “I’ll do it right away.”
She nearly ran from the livery. What was wrong with her? She was acting like such a fool. The men were all probably having a good laugh at her expense right now. Stopping in the alley between the two buildings long enough to take a deep breath, Rebekah determined then and there not to lose control of her emotions again. Getting burned a year ago had taught her many things, one of them being self-discipline. She’d made it through many painful months by keeping her mind captive. Time to practice that little trick again.
Help me, Lord.
Chapter Six
Nate stepped from the stall while still tucking the new shirt into his new trousers. Exhaustion drained his body of strength and made his mind sluggish. He’d spent most of yesterday in the saddle, fished Rebekah and Andrew from the creek, and worked the night fighting a fire. He didn’t know how he’d make it through the day. But make it he would. He had a job to do.
Still, he paused to finger the white apron draped over the stall next to his blackened clothes. The memory of Rebekah’s scent as he wiped his face stayed with him, so sweet—
“Why don’t you get a room at the hotel and sleep some, Nate?” Perry’s narrowed eyes showed concern. “You’ve got to be tired.”
“Thanks, Perry, but I’m still worked up. I doubt I could sleep for a while. Besides, I never got a chance to check in at a hotel.”
“Good.” The sheriff pushed away from the doorway. “Maybe now you can tell me what happened up there.”
Nate scooped his filthy clothes from the stall, all the while wondering why the sheriff didn’t go up to the mill and ask the owners and workers his questions. The lack of effort Nate had seen in the sheriff since his arrival yesterday only added to his suspicion of the man.
“Can’t tell you much.”
“Why?” The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and rocked back on his heels, chest out. “Because you’re involved?”
Nate fought a laugh. He’d seen too many men who acted tough behind a gun and star, only to cower or hide when those items were removed. The snort he heard from the gray-haired man at the doorway let Nate know he must have thought the same.
“He was with me since he arrived in town, Paul.” Perry’s glare revealed his opinion of the sheriff’s accusation. “Why don’t you do your job and investigate the scene?”
His bluster fleeing, Sheriff Caldwell’s chest sank into his ribs. He cleared his throat. “I will. Just as soon as I get some information out of this young man.” He turned toward Nate. “Well?”
Perry never called the sheriff by his title. A lack of respect maybe? Nate tucked the information into his memory. “I can’t say much because they wouldn’t tell me much. Said I was from the outside and couldn’t be trusted.”
The sheriff’s smug expression irritated him. Nate debated how much more to share, but he did want a response to the next tidbit.
“I did overhear a couple men say something about Mr. Briggs getting revenge.” He paused. “Is Mr. Briggs the owner of the mill?”
Perry’s thick, work-roughened fingers rasped along his whiskered chin. “No, he owns one of the bigger mines farther up the mountain.”
The elderly man still at the door finally joined them. “So they accepted your help but not your confidence. Not a surprise in these parts, young man.” He held out his hand. “Name’s Henry Gilmore, and if no one else has thanked you for your help out there, I will.”
Nate shook the man’s hand, impressed with his stature and proper speech. “Nate Kirkland.”
Mr. Gilmore pulled a pipe and pouch from his pocket. “You helped the sheriff yesterday with those two ruffians.”
“I tried, sir.”
As Mr. Gilmore tamped tobacco into his pipe, Nate mulled how some men could garner respect by merely carrying themselves with distinction and authority. His father used to be like that. Others, like the sheriff, thought respect came with a badge and a gun. He made another mental note to store that information.
Once the pipe was lit, Mr. Gilmore squinted against the smoke. “You ought to hire this man, Sheriff. He’s worth all your deputies put together.”
The sheriff snorted, his pudgy hands waving away the comment. “I’ve got work to do.” He stomped out of the livery.
Perry trailed close behind, nearly stepping on his heels and looking very much like he wanted to knock him to the ground. “You still have those boys in jail?”
“Nope. I turned them loose when they sobered up.” The sheriff shrugged. “Their fine was paid.” He pulled himself onto his horse and galloped away.
No one commented on the fact that the sheriff headed into town instead of toward the burned-down mill. Nate found that intriguing.
Perry returned, shaking his head, and perched on a barrel. “Sometimes I wonder how he manages to keep that badge.”
Mr. Gilmore puffed on his pipe, staring off at nothing. “Reminds me of some cannonballs we faced in the war.” He puffed once more, then used the mouthpiece to point at them. “We’d hear the explosion of one fired from a cann
on, and fear would tighten our bellies. The shrapnel from those things could tear a man in half. Yet time and again the fuse wouldn’t light, and the ball would roll past, doing no more damage than possibly busting the leg of a man who wasn’t fast enough to jump out of the way.”
Once again, he seemed to stare off at some distant memory, massaging the bowl of his pipe with his thumb. “I remember one such cannonball rolling right past me.” He shook his head at the recollection. “My mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow, waiting for that thing to blow me apart. It stopped not ten feet from me and never went off.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “My legs went weak, and my knees gave out.” He chuckled and sucked the end of his pipe. “Those times taught me and my men a good lesson—one we all could remember.”
The old man had Nate’s complete attention. “What lesson is that, sir?”
Smoke billowed around Mr. Gilmore’s head. “Not everything is as it appears, young man. Most times, you get exactly what you expect. But every so often, something or someone comes along that’s unproductive, a useless lump. Trouble is, you have to watch out for both, just in case.”
Nate could listen to this man’s stories all day, especially stories about the war. Dad rarely wanted to talk about the days he fought, but the times he did talk, Nate was all ears. And now Mr. Gilmore was on his way out the door, putting an end to his storytelling.
“Time to get to work, men. I need to get my shop opened up, so I can make a dollar or two today.” He hauled himself up on his horse and pointed at Nate with his pipe. “If Perry ever gives you some time off, young man, come see me. I like nothing better than a good listener.” Mr. Gilmore’s chuckle followed him down the street.
A grin lit Perry’s face. “Gilmore could talk a dead man back to life.” He shook his head. “Trouble is, I’d want to be there to hear every word. He’s an interesting fellow.”
Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho Page 3