Golden Dawn

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  Ian appeared at her side in an instant. “Did you men need something?”

  “Heard tell the gal takes in laundry and mending.”

  “She might.” Ian’s voice sounded controlled and quiet, but at the same time, those two clipped words made it clear he wouldn’t put up with any nonsense.

  The men drew closer. “Now that winter’s over, we’ve got clothes that need washing.” One raked his fingers through his greasy hair and beard. “A haircut would suit me fine. A shave, too.”

  Meredith shook her head.

  “The lady’s not a barber.” Ian stayed close and murmured, “If you don’t want to do their laundry, put your hand in the pocket of your apron. If you’ll do it, slip your hand into mine.”

  Every bit of money she could earn mattered. Meredith slid her hand into Ian’s rough, warm palm. His fingers closed about hers. He squeezed gently, and Meredith struggled to stay composed.

  I’m living a lie, and he’s protecting me.

  “Well, that answers that,” one told the other.

  “What?” Ian half growled.

  “Heard the gal was here with her brother. That feller over yonder looks like her. He’s gotta be her kin. Kinda hoped she’d take a shine to one of us and marry up. Guess you beat us to her.”

  “Crying shame, too. She’s pretty.”

  Ian didn’t look at her. He simply stepped forward and tucked her behind himself.

  “We ain’t meanin’ to insult you or scare your missus,” the other said to Ian. “Havin’ a wife to do the laundry and cookin’—well, you’re set real fine. Us? We just need some stuff done.”

  Ian didn’t budge. “Women are worth far more than just being laundresses. This woman, in particular.”

  “You’re right. Betcha she’s a fine cook, too.”

  Meredith could feel the way Ian bristled at their comments. Whenever bachelors happened by, they invariably proposed. They wanted a woman to cook their meals, tend their clothes, and warm their bed. Even Mr. Abrams and Mr. Clemment had suggested marriage. Ian, alone, bore the distinction of being the only man she’d seen in the past fifteen months who hadn’t asked for her hand.

  Does he have a wife or sweetheart back home? Or does he think I’m as attractive as last week’s fish?

  “How much laundry do you have, and what kind of mending?”

  He remembered me asking those same questions of Mr. Abrams. She stood on tiptoe and peeped over Ian’s shoulder.

  “Two pair of britches and two shirts apiece. Most everything’s short a button or two.”

  Elbowing his companion, the other jerked his head toward the garden and moaned. “Matthews was right. They’ve got fresh truck. Lots of it!”

  Tucker sauntered over. His hooded expression wouldn’t allow the strangers to know what he was thinking, but Meredith knew full well he noticed Ian’s protective stance. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re looking to have some laundry and mending done and to buy up some of those greens you folks are growing.”

  Ian turned to Tucker. “Meredith’s planning to can any of the green beans and wax beans we don’t eat fresh.”

  “You got all season to grow more. Surely you could spare us some now. And some lettuce, too. That’s lettuce, isn’t it?”

  The man had good call to wonder. Ian had never seen lettuce even half that size. “Aye, it’s lettuce. And beside it—that’s cabbage.”

  The two men whispered to each other. One finally cleared his throat. “One buck, cash money, and a pinch of gold dust. We get two quarts of fresh beans, two quart jars of beans the gal’s put up, two heads of cabbage, and two heads of lettuce, and the lady does our laundry and mending.”

  Ian snorted.

  “Two bucks.”

  After supper one night a few weeks back, she, Tucker, and Ian had come to an agreement regarding the price of their goods. For the effort they put into the garden, they needed to make a profit. After all, it did take away from the time Ian would prospect. But the money earned would also be a fine way of making it so others wouldn’t realize they’d found that sliver of a gold vein. Even so, if any of the three of them felt led to sell at a reduced rate or even give away food to someone in need, that would be fine.

  Ian and Tucker exchanged a stern look. Then Tucker looked at her. Ian still didn’t budge—he kept her directly behind himself, out of their view. Something in the way the strangers acted didn’t put Meredith in a generous frame of mind. She gave her head a slight shake.

  “The mercantile in Goose Chase charges a buck and a half for hamburger steak and onion in a can,” Tucker said. “One stinking can for a buck fifty. I don’t doubt they’d pay that much for a head of cabbage.”

  “Probably pay us that much and charge a customer more,” Ian chimed in.

  “The three of you can’t eat all that,” one of the men wheedled. “It’ll just go to waste.”

  Merry slipped from behind Ian and stood between him and her brother. “I’ll just slice up any extra cabbage and whip up batches of sauerkraut. It’ll keep in crocks for months on end.”

  “Other men are eager to buy our excess, and for fair prices.” Ian stared at the men. “But those men also understand the value of having a lady do their laundry and mending. Bad enough, you’ve offered gracious little for the food, but I’ll not stand by and let you insult Meredith. It would be best if you went off and struck a deal with someone else.”

  “We can’t do that. There aren’t any other women, and no one else planted a garden.”

  “You should have thought about those things before you made such a paltry offer.” Tucker made a shooing motion. “Go on and get off my land.”

  “Six bucks!”

  Ian folded his arms across his chest. “No. You insulted the lady. She’ll not be lowering herself to wash your clothes at any price.”

  “Then five bucks. Forget the laundry or mending. We’ll pay you five bucks, cash money, and you give us two heads of lettuce and two heads of cabbage and—”

  “No more,” Tucker ground out.

  “My brother means to say,” Meredith blurted out, “we’ll agree to five dollars for the items you just specified.” She felt sure her brother was going to send the men packing even though they’d offered an exorbitant sum.

  “Deal!” One of the men scrambled over.

  “But you don’t come back. Ever.” Tucker stared at them.

  After they left, Tucker ignored her. He looked at Ian. “I don’t care how much they offer. Sis isn’t doing their laundry or mending. Ever.”

  “I agree. And they’ll not buy another morsel of food.”

  “Are you going to bother to ask me?”

  “No,” they said in unison.

  She huffed. “I have a mind of my own.”

  “Aye, you do. And a sound mind it is.” Ian then tacked on, “But you’ve also a tender heart. What kind of men would we be to stand by and let anyone abuse your helpfulness or hurt your feelings?”

  “My feelings aren’t hurt.”

  Ian shook his head. “Lass, that just proves our point. You’ve forgiven those louts already. Fact is, they didn’t care about your feelings. They had sufficient money to make a fair offer. They had no honor. Never deal with someone who lacks integrity.”

  For the rest of the day, while the men used pickaxes and the sledgehammer to chip deeper into the stony earth, Ian’s words pounded into Meredith’s mind over and over again. “Never deal with someone who lacks integrity.” How would Ian feel when he learned the truth?

  Eleven

  “Thanks.” Ian accepted the dipper of water from Meredith and took a long, refreshing gulp. Tucker had loaded Bess with garden truck and led her to town. Several more trips would be essential—both to sell the produce and to bring in supplies for the coming year.

  Meredith accepted the empty dipper. “Thank you for sending Tucker to town today. He can be so stubborn!”

  Ian grimaced. “Aye. But that thumb has to be paining him something awful.�
��

  She nodded. “He knows better than to be using a wet sledgehammer on a rainy day. He’s lucky lightning didn’t strike him.”

  “I’d be a hypocrite to condemn him for that. We get so much rain, there aren’t many days’ work we’d get done if we ran inside each time the sky took a mind to spit.”

  “I wonder how far he’ll get before someone stops him and asks to buy something straight off Bess.”

  “Not far.” Ian lifted his pickax. “I knotted everything on with a diamond hitch, so he’ll be able to take things off without her losing balance as long as he keeps the sides fairly even.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Best you know, Merry, that the vein in the stone isn’t getting any wider yet. We’d hoped it would grow big and fat.”

  “It still might. Even if it doesn’t, you’re getting more than we ever panned.”

  “I saw you panning yesterday.”

  “Why not? I was waiting for the laundry pot to boil. I got about a pinch and a half of gold dust. With gold at sixteen dollars per ounce, that’s not a bad show for an afternoon’s work.”

  “Pure gold is sixteen dollars per ounce, Merry. Gold dust is impure. When it’s all melted and the dross is removed, it weighs far less.”

  “Oh.”

  The disappointment on her face tugged at his heart. “Every bit counts.”

  “Yes, it does.” She smiled. “Did Tucker speak to you about removing rock now in as much bulk as possible?”

  “He did.” Ian found a comfortable grip on the pickax. “I’m in full agreement. We’ll be able to crush it down and put it through the shaker box during the worst of the winter.”

  “So you don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind?” He gave her a surprised look. “Long days like this can allow us extreme amounts of outdoor work. When we’re locked inside by the most frigid part of the winter, we’ll still be able to make progress.”

  “It’ll make a mess of your cabin—all the dust and grit.”

  “Man came from dust and will return to dust.”

  Merry’s laughter filled the air. “Woman came from bone. Where does that leave her?”

  “If all goes as God intended, it leaves her right by her man’s side and inside his heart.” And that’s where I’d like you to be.

  “Well, for now, this woman is going to do a few chores. Tucker said he’ll be back tonight, but I’m not so sure.”

  “I believe he will. The sunlight will allow him to travel safely, and he’s got a lot of stamina.”

  “That’s true.” Her pretty hazel eyes sparkled. “I think it’s more a matter of stubbornness. Once my brother sets his mind to something, he pursues it with a singleness of mind that is nearly unshakable.”

  “Old Abrams said something to that effect last night.” Ian remembered the old man’s bluster. “Only he wound up calling your twin a thickheaded bulldog.”

  The matter neither of them addressed was glaring: Until now, Meredith and Ian hadn’t been alone. She’d gone to town with Tucker on the other trip. His leaving her behind and in Ian’s safekeeping showed a measure of trust that Ian understood. He planned to be worthy of that trust. Clenching the pickax helped him do just that. Otherwise, he’d cave in to temptation, grab Meredith, and help himself to a sweet, sweet kiss.

  “Anything special you’d like for supper?”

  He stopped. “You needn’t cook for me, Merry. I’ve put beans to soak. I can boil them later.”

  “It’s no trouble, Ian. I don’t mind.”

  “I do, though. Our bargain ended. You have no call to cook for me.”

  Resting her hands on her hips, Merry gave him an exasperated look. “That deal? Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been sharing your food far longer than we agreed to, and you’ve plowed more than twice what we agreed upon.”

  “You’ve helped weed, thin, and transplant.” He readjusted his hold on the pickax. “Add to that all the beans you’ve canned.”

  “In jars you bought.” She stooped down and pleaded, “Ian, let’s not haggle. Please let me cook. You have every reason and right to claim the gold here.”

  “No, lass, I don’t. The Lord was present when we made our agreement. He knew where the riches lay—and He had Tucker see them first. The believers in the Bible worked together and shared all they had in common. Tucker and you are working every bit as hard as I am. I couldn’t face myself in the mirror or my Maker on Judgment Day if I hoarded this for myself.”

  “You’re being honorable.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “How, then, can you want us to partake in your blessings and refuse to accept what we have to offer? From now on, I’m making the meals.”

  He shook his head. Every morning of his life, he’d seen Da give Ma a good-morning kiss, and she’d give him another as he left for the fields. Since the day Braden and Maggie married, they’d taken up that same tradition. If I sit across the breakfast table from this woman, I’ll long for that same closeness. Refusing her offer would hurt her, though. In a voice every bit as rough as the gravel he was creating, Ian said, “Midday and supper. I make my own breakfasts.”

  The smile on her face made him glad he’d compromised. She rose with grace and went off to see to her chores.

  Ian chipped away at the ground. The pickax did a fair job, but sinking a hole into anything took a lot of effort. Even though it was summer and sunlight ruled both day and night, the glacial rock didn’t care. As long as Ian worked, he kept warm. After a few minutes of stopping and talking, the insidious cold started making his muscles knot.

  Spying a small offshoot of gold, Ian wanted to significantly widen the area they’d begun to dig. He established a rhythm and kept at it.

  “Ian!”

  Merry’s voice brought him to a halt. “Are you ready to eat?”

  “I’m always ready to eat.” He set down the pickax and hopped out of the hole. A quick backward glance made him say, “It looks like I’m digging a grave.”

  Merry shivered. “Don’t say that!”

  “Oh, lass, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Recriminations ran through his mind. Grief still held great sway over her—so much that she couldn’t bear to mention her father. I have to mind my tongue. That was a terrible slip.

  “Never mind.” The blithe tone she used didn’t take away the sadness in her eyes.

  They sat on crates over by the river to eat. “I’ll never tire of this view.” Ian watched as the water bubbled and whooshed by. “The sight and sound are lovely indeed.”

  “It’s pretty in winter, too. Because we came from Texas, I’d never lived with snow before.”

  “I’d think the novelty would wear off once the cold sets in.”

  “Boredom is just as big an enemy as cold. Tucker’s suggestion of taking rocks inside to pulverize and extract the gold—it’s his way of staying busy. He spent two solid weeks last winter weaving us snowshoes.”

  “This winter, we can draw a board on wood or cloth and use rocks to make a game of draughts.”

  “We did that.” The corners of Meredith’s mouth twitched. “But that game grows tedious. Tucker came up with a different use for those rocks. He nearly drove me to distraction trying to learn to juggle them.”

  “Did he, now?”

  Meredith shook her head. “Not really. He never did manage to keep three in the air. They’d fall somewhere, and he’d scoop up more. He wouldn’t give up until he’d used up all the stones and they peppered the beds and floor.”

  “That’s a man acting out of desperation. What did you do to keep busy?”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “I dodged stones.”

  After his laughter died down, Ian said, “You’re a delightful lass, Merry Smith.”

  “Look at the two of you,” Abrams groused loudly.

  Ian bristled at the old man’s intrusion. Having just paid Merry a compliment, he wanted to follow up and say something more.

  “Coulda invited me to lunch,” Abrams continued on. “Since Tucker wen
t to town, the bridge is spanning the river.”

  “But the bread I’m baking won’t be ready until supper.” Meredith stood. “Wouldn’t you rather come tonight?”

  “Now that’s more like it! What else are you fixin’?”

  “Why did you waste your breath to ask?” Ian slapped his hat on his head. “You know whatever Merry makes will be far better than anything you or I would rustle up.”

  Abrams shouted back, “I’m a better cook than you, Rafferty!”

  “That’s not saying much. Anyone’s a better cook than I am.”

  “You more than make up for that lack with your farming and hunting.” A pale pink suffused Meredith’s cheeks. She swiped Ian’s plate from his hands and walked away.

  Ian fought the urge to dash after her. Instead, he made a quick round of the snares he’d set. Every last one lay empty. Lord, You know I’m falling in love with Merry. You own the cattle on a thousand hills. I’m not asking for a fatted calf, though. Couldn’t You please see fit to fill my snares with a couple of hare or grouse? Don’t let her confidence in me dwindle. She’s always had Tucker to lean on. He’s a fine man, Lord, but if Merry becomes my wife, she needs to see me as the one who can provide for her.

  “Ian?”

  ❧

  “Ian?” Meredith called again as she walked around a stump. Spying him, she changed direction toward him.

  He shot to his feet.

  She glanced at the empty snare. Methodical as he was, she knew this would be the last one he’d check. Ian always went in a clockwise sweep of the traps and snares. His hands hung empty at his sides. “I know how important it is for you to be prospecting. Just because I said you’re a good hunter, please don’t feel I wanted you to bring in supper tonight.”

  “Sad fact is, nothing’s caught yet.”

  “I was afraid of that—oh! Not that there wouldn’t be anything. That you’d feel obligated to bring in the meat. We have a fair store of smoked fish, and I made several jars of confit with the squirrels you’ve gotten. I’ll come up with something.”