When he was through, the minister said, “Well, I must say that is quite a tale, Mr. Jones.”
“Don’t you believe a word of it, Reverend,” laughed Pa.
“Aren’t you being a little hard on your friend, Drummond?”
“Alkali’s used to it by now, ain’t ya, Alkali?”
“Aw, Drum,” shot back Mr. Jones in his high-pitched voice, “you durned newcomers thinks you know everythin’, but if it hadna been for us old timers in these parts, there wouldna been no gold for the likes o’ you!” Then, so that no one would take him too seriously and think he was really arguing with Pa, he let out with his high cackle, “Hee, hee, hee!”
“An whose claim’s keepin’ you in beans an’ new boots?” put in Uncle Nick, not wanting to miss out on the sport of giving Alkali Jones a good ribbing.
“Hee, hee, hee! I found it, an’ the two o’ you’s makin’ me work your claim for my own measly little share! Hee, hee!”
“Is there actually more gold to be found?” asked Hermon Stansberry, to no one in particular.
“That depends on who you talk to,” said Pa.
“The hills are full o’ it, if ye ask me,” said Mr. Jones. “Why, jist the other day I was up on Baseline ridge, an’ I seen—”
“Oh, not another strike, Alkali!” said Uncle Nick, shooting Pa a quick wink.
“Jist hold on to your hat, Nick,” Alkali shot back. “I seen ol’ man Strong, you know the ol’ varmint that lives up there in the hills trappin’ coons and shootin’ bear. He ain’t never had no interest in gold. He says you can’t eat gold an’ it won’t keep you warm at night, so he sees no good in the stuff. Well, he told me even he’s spotted gold in his stream, an’ he ain’t even lookin’ fer it!”
His words silenced even Pa and Uncle Nick for a minute.
“What is your opinion, Mrs. Parrish?” asked Mr. Stansberry. “I understand your business supplies the miners with much of their equipment and supplies.”
“Yes, I do,” replied Mrs. Parrish, then smiled with fun in her eyes. “But most of the men in these parts do not share their views with me—even their views on the future of the gold rush.”
She glanced over in Pa’s direction. “Would you say that’s a fair assessment, Mr. Hollister?” Still the humor was on her face. “Aren’t most miners—men like yourself, for instance—reluctant to make a woman their confidante?”
“Them’s your words, ma’am, not mine,” answered Pa.
Mrs. Parrish laughed. “Cryptic to the end! Very well, I see I’m going to have to answer Mr. Stansberry’s question myself.” Then she turned more serious and looked back at Miss Stansberry’s brother. “I would say, yes, there is a great deal of gold still in California to be found,” she went on. “But that is merely a guess on my part. Opinions vary widely, as you can imagine. There are those who thought it was played out in 1850, yet new strikes continue to be made. Our own town here boomed at first, then slowed down. People left their claims, only to suddenly spring back with new strikes throughout the area as a result of what happened right here on Mr. Hollister’s land. My own feeling is that gold still exists in abundant supply, but that in coming years it will be increasingly difficult, first to locate, and then to extract.”
“The lady’s exactly on the target,” added Pa. “Harder to find, harder to get at.”
“And it’s takin’ bigger, more expensive equipment, too,” said Uncle Nick. “Big outfits is comin’ in from all over the place.”
“Squeezin’ the little guys like us clean outta the gold fields, that’s what they’s doin’!” said Alkali Jones.
This time his words weren’t followed by a laugh. “Pannin’ fer gold in a stream ain’t findin’ much these days, less ye gets lucky like ol’ man Strong! Naw, fer fellers like us it’s mostly gone.”
“That must be good for you, at least, Mrs. Parrish,” said Miss Stansberry. “Selling the new gold companies their machinery?”
“Unfortunately,” replied Mrs. Parrish, “the way of the small business is probably doomed to go the way of the little one-man claim. My business has always been with local operations, transporting things for them—supplies, small equipment. But the big outfits that are coming in bring their own machinery. They see someone like me, and a woman to boot, as little more than a General Store for miners—strictly small time.”
“But you provide a valuable service for all the miners for miles, Almeda,” said Rev. Rutledge. He hadn’t said a word during the whole discussion about gold mining. “You mustn’t be too pessimistic. I’m certain all the men in Miracle Springs will continue to need the goods and services you offer for many years to come.”
“The Reverend’s right, ma’am,” said Uncle Nick, and for some reason I was surprised by his kind words. “None of us coulda got by like we have if it hadn’t been for your company an’ the ways you help the men.”
Both Pa and Alkali Jones nodded their heads and mumbled words of agreement. Mrs. Parrish seemed genuinely touched.
“There, you see what I mean, Almeda,” Rev. Rutledge added. “These men hereabouts aren’t about to desert you after all you’ve done, notwithstanding what the larger companies may be doing.”
“Well, I must say, that is kind of you, Avery,” Mrs. Parrish sighed, “kind of you all! But, I don’t know—I do wonder about the future sometimes. A woman, alone like I am, running a business that perhaps there won’t be a need for one day. Sometimes I think I ought to find a rich miner or rancher to marry, and think about being a wife instead of a businesswoman!”
My head shot up at the words. I didn’t know if she was being serious, like her voice had sounded just a moment before when talking about the future of her store, or if she was joking again.
Her words caught everyone off guard. As I looked across the table, I saw the minister, who’d been looking right into her face, glance away and start fiddling with something on his plate. His neck showed just a touch of red in it and he didn’t say anything more.
As he looked away, there were a couple of “Ahem—ahem’s” around the table, people clearing their throats. But when I saw Mrs. Parrish’s face, I could tell in a second that she’d been funning, because she threw me a quick little smile.
Now Alkali Jones’s quick wit saved the conversation. “Well, ma’am,” he said, and you could almost hear his high cackle ahead of time, “I don’t know no ranchers here ’bouts needin’ no settlin’, but I knows where ye might find yourself a rich miner! Hee, hee, hee!”
Uncle Nick and Mrs. Parrish seemed to appreciate his humor, but neither Pa nor Rev. Rutledge did much laughing.
One thing I was learning from watching Mrs. Parrish around other people was how she was always watching them, always trying to put them at ease, always trying to say or do something that would keep them from being on the spot or from feeling small. She didn’t want the conversation to get awkward for anyone—or for herself—and so her next words steered the talk another direction.
“Well, I must admit,” she said cheerily, “this is certainly a more cordial Christmas gathering than I was able to provide last year!” She laughed, and gradually most of the others joined in.
Miss Stansberry looked at her with a question on her face, so Mrs. Parrish continued. “The children and Mr. Hollister had not been together long, and Avery had only been in Miracle Springs a month. I had not been altogether gracious in some of the things I had said and done toward Mr. Hollister, and no doubt—” and here she turned an apologetic smile in Uncle Nick’s direction—“toward Mr. Belle as well. Anyway, we had what you might call an uncomfortable Christmas gathering at my home, for which I have always felt bad. I am just grateful that Mr. Hollister and Mr. Belle—and the children, of course!—” She looked around at each one of us quickly, then resumed, “I’m glad they have all opened their home to us so graciously!”
“Amen—amen!” added the minister.
But her bringing up last year’s Christmas only seemed to deepen Pa’s silence and he didn’
t say anything. Afraid, maybe, that it was going to turn out like last year after all, Mrs. Parrish struck up again, though now I thought I heard some nervousness in her breezy tone.
“And now that I think of it, Mr. Hollister,” she said, “haven’t we had something like this discussion about the future of the gold fields before?”
But it wasn’t Pa who answered, but Uncle Nick.
“That’s right! I recollect the day! It was with that low-down Royce back when folks was sellin’ off their claims!”
“The weasel!” added Mr. Jones. “Why, if it hadna been fer Tad an’ Zack here, the durned varmint woulda had the whole blamed town an’ valley by now!”
“What’s this? Have two of my students done something I should know about?” asked Miss Stansberry, glancing first at Tad, beaming with pleasure, and then at Zack, who looked more embarrassed than proud.
“Heroes, that’s what those two are!” put in Rev. Rutledge.
“I want to hear all about it!” Miss Stansberry said. “It sounds exciting!”
“Exciting’s hardly the word for it,” added Mrs. Parrish. “These two lads did nothing short, I venture to say, of changing the very course of Miracle Springs’ history! And certainly Corrie’s part can’t be overlooked either. She overheard Royce’s plan and then ran into town to—”
All this time since Mrs. Parrish’s comment about getting married, Pa had kept quiet. Though the talk around the table had picked back up, he’d just been staring down at the table like he was thinking about something else. Now all of a sudden he looked up, took in a deep breath, and interrupted Mrs. Parrish’s story.
“I got somethin’ to tell you all,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry to break into your story, ma’am, and it’s not like I ain’t proud of my kids for what they done. But one of the reasons I wanted to have some of you here today—though Nick and the kids, we already talked about this, but you, ma’am, an’ the minister, an’ Alkali—well, I got somethin’ I gotta say and I figured this’d be just about the easiest way to get you all in one place like this, and just say it.”
When he stopped to take a breath, it was so quiet around that table you could have heard a sparrow chirp clear up at the mine. Nobody so much as lifted a fork to eat another bite.
“I know I’m kinda spoilin’ your nice conversation, but your sayin’ what you done, Alkali, put me in mind of what I want to say, so I reckon I just gotta rustle up my gumption and say it.”
Again he paused, sucked in a breath of air, and forged ahead.
“Well,” he said, “I been thinkin’ real hard about the kids here, and about what I’m needin’ to do for them, to be the sort of father I want to be to ’em, and what’s for their best, an’ all. So I talked to some folks and I put an advertisement in some papers out East, an’ I got a letter back from a nice-soundin’ young lady from Virginia who’s willin’ to come. So I wrote her, and I’m fixin’ to send her some money to pay to get her here, and she’s gonna come an’ be a wife to me and help me raise my kids like they oughta be raised. There! That’s what I gotta say!”
He sighed real big and kind of relaxed back in his chair.
“Whew, Drum!” whistled Alkali Jones. “When you say somethin’, blamed if you don’t say a mouthful! Ya mean to say you’s gonna git yerself married again?”
“That’s what I just said, Alkali,” answered Pa, sounding almost irritated at having to repeat it.
“Well, if that don’t beat all! Hee, hee, hee!”
“Well, well! Ahem—congratulations, Mr. Hollister,” said Rev. Rutledge, half rising out of his chair and offering Pa his right hand.
Pa shook it, but his heart didn’t really seem in it. He didn’t look the minister directly in the eye as he did so.
“Yes, Mr. Hollister,” added Miss Stansberry warmly. “Congratulations! That is wonderful news!”
Somehow, though, it didn’t feel as wonderful as it ought to. As I glanced around the table, none of my brothers and sisters had smiles on their faces. I suppose we’d get used to the notion of Pa having a new wife, but I couldn’t help thinking about Ma.
Mrs. Parrish just looked down at her plate and got real quiet.
Chapter 19
A Talk Afterward
It’s a good thing dinner was mostly over when Pa told everyone about Katie Morgan, because after that it was quiet with the sounds mostly of forks scratching around on plates and chewing and passing plates around. Pa squirmed in his seat a little. His sudden announcement threw a bucket of cold water on what had been a pretty lively and fun talk around the table.
Miss Stansberry and Rev. Rutledge kept on talking, but mostly about her coming and what she thought California was like and how the school was getting along. She asked him about the church, and they laughed over things having to do with sharing the building for their two “ministries,” as they called them.
Alkali Jones tried to get Pa talking about mining again, but without any success. Then he turned to Uncle Nick and was talking away to him, but I got the feeling Uncle Nick was trying to listen across Mr. Jones to what Miss Stansberry was saying, so he was involved in both conversations at once. Neither Pa or Mrs. Parrish said much of anything, so the rest of the meal was a little strange.
I was sitting next to Pa. Finally I asked him, quietly—because I just wanted to know for myself—when Miss Morgan was coming. I guess everyone heard me, because they all turned to listen to Pa’s answer.
“April, Corrie, or May,” he said, “or whenever she can get passage on a ship. Folks are pouring west now, and I reckon sometimes they’re filled up.”
That loosened Pa up some, just getting his tongue working again, and gradually the talk started to flow better as we got up from the table. The men went over by the fire and lit up their pipes, the women—including Becky and Emily and me—started clearing off the things from the table. But no one asked Pa the question I wanted so badly to ask: When was he planning to marry Miss Morgan?
“We’ll clear up some of these things,” Mrs. Parrish announced, “and give your stomachs a chance to rest, and then put out the pies!”
“Now you’re talkin’! Hee, hee!” laughed Alkali Jones, and other enthusiastic comments followed.
I looked around at the men standing by the fire filling their pipes and talking, and at us kids and Miss Stansberry and Mrs. Parrish in the kitchen putting the food away and stacking the plates to take outside to wash. Listening to all the sounds and voices, I thought to myself that it had turned out to be a right fine Christmas after all. I was worried there at the table for a few minutes when it got quiet, and I couldn’t help thinking about all the trouble a year earlier. But now everyone’s good spirits were back.
A few minutes later, while I was taking the leftover chicken off the bones so we’d be able to divide it up for everyone to take home, I realized Mrs. Parrish wasn’t in the cabin. At first I figured maybe she’d gone out to the outhouse or to take some dishes to the pump-sink outside, but when she was still gone ten minutes later I thought I’d go see.
By then Miss Stansberry had Becky and Emily organized into a cleaning troop between the table and the stove, and the three of them were chattering away. Mr. Stansberry was showing Tad his whittling knife. Zack was with Pa and Uncle Nick and the minister and Alkali Jones. So I figured nobody’d miss me for a few minutes. I cleaned the grease off my fingers, wiped them off with a towel, and went outside.
It was a sunshiny day, but cold. I could see my breath in the air. I glanced around. Mrs. Parrish wasn’t at the pump, and I was already getting chilly. So I went back inside, got on my coat, and came back into the fresh, clean air that felt so good against my face—especially with a full stomach!
I looked up and down the creek as I started walking. At first I didn’t know where to go, but then I saw Mrs. Parrish. She was about halfway up toward the mine, leaning against one of the big man-size rocks the creek worked its way around. I walked toward her, not really knowing what I was going to say. Then it suddenly da
wned on me that she must have come out here to be alone.
Embarrassed, I started to back away, but it was too late. She’d heard me and turned her head around.
“Corrie,” she said, smiling. “You found me!”
“I didn’t mean to bother you, ma’am, I just didn’t see you and got to wondering if—”
“Oh, think nothing of it, Corrie,” she said. “I’ve had plenty of time alone with my thoughts. I’m sure the Lord knew some pleasant company was just what I needed.”
I didn’t say anything.
“It’s been a wonderful Christmas, hasn’t it, Corrie?” she said brightly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Just the kind of day to remind us of the Lord’s coming to earth.” She paused a second, then added, “How are you finding this Christmas for you, Corrie—after a year here, a year with your father, a year thinking more personally about God’s life with us?”
No one would ever accuse Mrs. Parrish of beating around the bush when she had something to say! But my thoughts were still of Christmas and pies, and I wasn’t very quick about an answer.
“I don’t know, ma’am, I guess I hadn’t been thinking just now about it.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I suppose I always get more pensive on Christmas day than most people. But I always try to slip away by myself at least twice on days like this, especially Christmas, just to keep myself from being so caught up in the hubbub and the conversation and the food and the merrymaking going on around me, to remind myself of what it’s really about—that Jesus came to live among us, and to help us be like Him.”
“I thought of all that this morning,” I said. “I got up early and prayed some—and, of course, when Pa read the Christmas story. I guess I had forgotten about it for most of the day.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the merrymaking,” she said. “Christmas is a festive time, a time to be happy with family and friends. But as I said, I like to remind myself about its true meaning as often as I’m able. Your Pa’s voice had a real nice sound to it when he read,” she added, bringing Pa up without even a pause. “It must make you happy to have him working to be a good father and family man.”
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