When Jem turned around, Nathan was looking at him. “Nah, we weren’t rich,” he said. “Not like real rich folks. But Father was a captain in the army, so we were better off than most. And he was gone a lot even before the War broke out.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Mother told me it would be very different here, but until today I had no idea what that really meant.”
Nathan clenched his fists and stepped away from the tree. “Listen, Jem. I’m no sissy, no matter what you and your sister think. Sure, the dog startled me, but I can’t go back to Boston. I have to make the best of it out here.” He hesitated, then burst out, “But I don’t know how. Will you … will you help me?” Nathan held Jem’s gaze, as if daring his cousin to tease him for admitting such a weakness.
Jem thought long and hard. Nathan was probably dumber than a fence post about ranch chores, but he hadn’t had a father around for a long time to teach him anything, the way Pa had taught Ellie and Jem. Besides, Nathan’s mother was Pa’s sister. That made Nathan partly a Coulter. With God’s help, there wasn’t anything a Coulter could not tackle and succeed in doing.
Yet, Jem couldn’t help scratching at that little itch in the back of his mind. Even if Nathan was a Coulter, he was from the city, and a greenhorn besides. Jem had seen his share of greenhorns. Most of them were only worth as much as fool’s gold in a pan of gravel. Jem wondered if Nathan would shatter like fool’s gold or if he could be molded and proved to be the real thing.
Jem would like a cousin—or any friend—like that.
“I’ll help you, Nathan,” he said at last, just as Ellie joined them under the tree. “So will Ellie. That’s what kinfolk are for. But”—he let out a long, slow breath—“it’s not going to be easy. You’ve got a lot to learn, and …”
“You’re not going to like it,” Ellie finished.
CHAPTER 9
Never-Ending Chores
Just as Jem predicted, Nathan didn’t like learning how to do the never-ending chores on the struggling Coulter ranch. Worse, Jem discovered that his cousin didn’t like anything about Goldtown, the ranch, or the surrounding area. He didn’t like Nugget, and he was afraid of the milk cow’s sharp horns. Even the chickens seemed to have a grudge against him.
“Whack him!” Ellie’s shrill command made Jem pause. He looked up from milking and peered through the open barn doors. Just beyond the opening, he saw Nathan flash by.
What’s going on now? Jem wondered.
Instead of their cousin helping cut their chore time in half, it took even longer to get things done. During the past month, the pile of wood that needed splitting had grown instead of shrunk, they were often late for school, and Jem’s frog and firewood business had slowed to a standstill. By the time he and Ellie helped Nathan learn a new chore, there was no time for anything else.
“Maybe when the school term is over,” he told the cow. She mooed and stamped an impatient hoof. Jem milked faster. Good thing he could milk and think at the same time.
Mr. Sims at the café was fit to be tied about the lack of frog legs for his menu. Sadly, since Sundays were rest days, Jem couldn’t use those long afternoons to fill his pail with the hoppers. He couldn’t even split one log.
“If you can’t get it done in six days,” Pa was fond of saying, “then I reckon it’s not that important. We work hard enough all week. Let’s go fishing after church instead.”
Well, fishing was fine, and trout were tasty—especially the way Aunt Rose fried them up, but Jem wished he could be making money or at least panning for gold in Cripple Creek. Unfortunately, Pa thought prospecting was work too, and definitely not the proper way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Besides, Jem’s panning days were on hold until school was out.
Ellie’s shout came again, louder this time. “Kick him, Nathan! Oh, no. Run!”
Jem abandoned the milk stool, grabbed the half-full pail of milk, and rushed out of the barn in time to see the door to the chicken house slam shut—with Nathan inside. A large, reddish-brown rooster ran back and forth in front of the old shed. Deep, threatening noises erupted from his throat. Every few seconds, he attacked the shed with his sharp talons, then started his frenzied running all over again.
From Ellie’s side, Nugget was barking, which added to the racket.
“Hang it all, Ellie!” Jem yelled. “Can’t you teach Nathan to gather eggs without turning it into an all-day chore?”
“I’m tryin’,” Ellie shot back. “But Mordecai’s taken an awful dislike to him. He goes after him every chance he gets.” Armed with a three-foot-long branch, she ran to the rooster and swung the stick across his tail feathers. “Get going!” she shouted. “Shoo!”
Mordecai squawked but held his ground, glaring at Ellie with baleful eyes. He scratched the dirt, ruffled his feathers, and made an attempt to launch himself at her. Just then, a rock whizzed past Ellie and landed between Mordecai’s feet. The startled rooster jumped a foot, then retreated around the corner of the shed, cackling his fury all the way.
“You gotta teach me how to do that sometime,” Ellie said.
Jem grinned. “It’s just a matter of careful aiming, then letting the rock fly.” He turned toward the henhouse and called, “You can come out now, Nathan. Make sure you’ve got those eggs.”
Looking sheepish, Nathan exited the shed, carrying a wicker basket. It was heaped full of brown eggs. None looked broken—this time. He scurried past his cousins without a word and ducked through the door of the cabin’s lean-to.
Jem and Ellie looked at each other. Jem shrugged. “He’s trying his best, I reckon. It’s just gonna take a lot longer than we thought. But he’ll come around.”
“He’d better,” Ellie said with a scowl. She patted Nugget, who swished his tail. “Good dog.”
Jem handed Ellie the milk pail. “Finish milking for me, will ya? I’ve still got to bring in the wood.” He turned and hurried off to the woodpile.
When the family sat down for breakfast half an hour later, Aunt Rose told the children to bow their heads for the blessing.
“Aren’t we gonna wait for Pa?” Ellie asked.
It was strange having a grown-up woman bustling around the stove, cooking up meals that actually tasted good, rather than the concoctions Pa used to throw together. Yet, eating without their father didn’t seem right, no matter how hungry Jem might be. He eyed the steaming flapjacks and waited for Aunt Rose’s answer.
“He’s not here,” she said matter-of-factly, picking up her napkin. She spread it over her lap and said a quick prayer. Then she picked up her fork and began to eat.
Nathan dug into his breakfast, but Jem and Ellie stared at their aunt.
“Where is he?” Jem asked. “Out with the cattle? I can send Nugget after him. That way Pa can eat breakfast while it’s hot.”
Aunt Rose shook her head. “He got called away during the night on sheriff business. There’s no telling how long he might be gone this time. I’ll keep some pancakes warm for him.”
Jem’s appetite disappeared. “Pa taking that sheriff’s job was a bad idea all the way around,” he muttered.
“Jeremiah Isaiah Coulter!”
Jem winced. His aunt sure seemed to like the sound of his full name. She used it plenty, especially when she was firing herself up to give a scolding.
“Being sheriff is a respectable position,” Aunt Rose said, eyes flashing. “And that silver star he wears is a badge of honor. Land sakes, child! I’m astonished this town has only now realized they need a sheriff to keep law and order. I’m proud they asked my brother to take the position. You should be proud too.” Then she smiled. “The forty dollars they’re paying him every month is surely a blessing.”
“Goldtown got along fine without a sheriff for years and years,” Jem argued. “And we’ve gotten along fine without the extra cash. I don’t know why they had to hire a sheriff now, or why it had to be Pa.”
Jem knew he was on shaky ground. His arguing sounded mighty close to backtalk, something Pa never allo
wed. “I’m sorry, Aunt Rose,” he apologized quickly. “I don’t mean to contradict, but you don’t know Goldtown. Killings and claim jumpings and drunks are just a small part of what goes on in town. It’s dangerous being a sheriff.”
“But necessary,” Aunt Rose insisted. Her voice softened. “It’s only a part-time job, Jeremiah, and you have to admit we need the money. God will protect Matthew. He’ll be fine. Don’t carry on so.”
Easier said than done. Jem picked at his breakfast and couldn’t help but notice that Ellie was doing the same. Only Nathan seemed unaffected. He gobbled up six molasses-drenched flapjacks and chugged down a tall glass of milk in no time. Our cousin sure knows how to pack away the food, Jem thought.
Since Aunt Rose had taken over the cooking, Jem found himself eating more too. Instead of a hunk of bread or a stale biscuit and a wizened apple for his noon meal, he often had a real sandwich, thick with fresh butter. Sometimes a rare molasses cookie was slipped inside his lunch pail as a surprise.
Jem was almost ready to give in and admit that having Aunt Rose take over the household was not a bad thing. If only she would content herself with just managing the house and stop trying to manage his and Ellie’s lives! She expected Jem to run a comb through his hair every day and wear a clean shirt. Ellie had to sit still and learn to sew samplers in the evenings. Worse, Aunt Rose wanted to know where they were every minute. That was hard to swallow. Just because so many things out here frightened her, it was no reason to keep everybody on a short leash.
Good thing Pa agreed and set her straight, Jem thought, or we’d be stuck on the ranch all summer. He asked to be excused and pushed back from the table. “I’ll get Copper ready to take us to school.”
“I’m sorry, Jeremiah,” Aunt Rose said. “Matthew told me he needs the horses later today when he returns. You children will have to walk to school.”
Jem stared mutely at Aunt Rose as her words sank in. Then he yanked Ellie up from her chair. “We’ve got to leave right now, or we’ll be late again.” He was mighty tired of copying lines about punctuality. “C’mon, Ellie. Nathan. We gotta fly!”
Without another word, Jem snatched up his lunch pail and hurried across the room. He didn’t look back when Aunt Rose insisted Ellie’s hair needed brushing. Ellie didn’t look back either. They were out the door and down the drive in less than a minute, with Nathan only a few steps behind.
“We won’t be late today,” Jem vowed, “even if we have to run all the way!”
CHAPTER 10
Back to the Creek
Thankfully, the term ended the following week. After enduring an evening at the school exhibition for parents and the school board, Jem was finally free from his brick prison. He celebrated by rolling out of bed at the crack of dawn the next day and dragging Nathan with him. His cousin groaned but followed Jem sleepily down the ladder and outside to get a head start on the day’s chores.
“What is the all-fired hurry, Cousin? There’s no school to rush off to.” Nathan yawned and swung the axe over his head. Down it came with a solid whack into the stump, missing the log he intended to split. Jem patiently set it upright again.
“Once our chores are done, we get the day to ourselves,” Jem replied. “I have frogs to catch for Mr. Sims and firewood to cut and deliver to three customers, but that can wait one more day.” He smiled broadly. “To celebrate my first day out of school, I’m heading out to our claim as quick as I can. Pa said I couldn’t pan gold ’til the term ended. Well, it ended yesterday and I’m going out there today. Strike probably wonders where I’ve been.”
Whack! The log cracked down the middle, and the two halves tumbled to the ground. “Who’s Strike?” Nathan asked.
Jem took the axe from Nathan and split three logs before answering. “Strike-it-rich Sam is an old prospector, a friend, and my partner. Our gold claim is right next to his, out on Cripple Creek.” He split three more logs. “You’ll meet him soon enough … that is, if you want to come panning for gold with Ellie and me.”
“I do!” Nathan said. His eyes gleamed with a look Jem knew well.
Just like every other greenhorn who thinks gold is lying around for the taking, Jem noted. Maybe it was lying around back in ’49, but it’s sure not anymore. The faint, faraway banging of the stamp mill reminded Jem how rare placer gold was these days.
He handed the axe back to Nathan. “All right, then. See how fast you can get the wood split. A dozen more should be enough for today. Do you think you can get it done before I finish the milking?”
Nathan looked from the pile of logs to the small stack of split wood. Then he gripped the axe and nodded. “Possibly. As long as you milk real slow.”
Jem did not milk “real slow.” He flew through his chores, then finished splitting the last few logs for Nathan. Both boys hauled the wood inside to the woodbox, so Aunt Rose would have plenty of fuel to feed the large, black cook stove. The coffee pot was boiling and bacon sizzling when the boys slammed through the back door with the final load.
Pa sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading a week-old copy of the San Francisco Bulletin. He put down the newspaper when the boys joined him. “You two are up mighty early this morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Jem said. “I’m taking Nathan out to the claim as soon as our chores are done. Hopefully before midday.” He paused. “I mean, if it’s all right with you and Aunt Rose.”
Aunt Rose paused in her bacon-frying and wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I suppose I can get along without you for a few hours today,” she finally agreed. “So long as you don’t make a habit of it all summer.”
Jem let out the breath he’d been holding.
“It’s fine with me,” Pa said, smiling. He downed his coffee with one last gulp and swept the paper aside. “Between the ranch and town, I’ve got myself a full day, so you make sure Rose doesn’t need you to fetch and carry for her before you disappear. The garden might need your attention too.”
Jem groaned. Before Aunt Rose’s arrival, the Coulter ranch did not boast any kind of vegetable garden. Pa had too much else to do, and Jem and Ellie knew nothing about tending a patch of weedy ground.
Aunt Rose changed all that not long after she moved in. It had taken her no time at all to talk her brother into plowing up a large kitchen garden in a sunny patch of ground. It was true Jem liked eating what Aunt Rose grew, but he hated weeding and hauling water.
“Yes, Pa,” he said, hoping it would stay cool enough today to keep the garden from getting too thirsty.
Jem nodded his thanks when Aunt Rose plunked a steaming platter of bacon and eggs in front of him. Then she did the same for Nathan. Ellie slammed through the back door, carefully set the basket of eggs on the counter, and plopped down next to her brother. As soon as Pa said the blessing, Jem dug into his breakfast.
“I won’t be home for supper tonight, Rosie,” Pa said, reaching for the pepper. “I’ll work around here this morning, but I’ll be tied up in town the rest of the day. Sheriff business.”
Jem’s forkful of eggs froze halfway to his mouth. This would be the third night in a row Pa had not eaten supper with the family. I have to ask him. I have to know. He took a deep breath and blurted, “Your new sheriff job, Pa. It’s temporary, right? I mean, just until they find somebody permanent?”
Pa shook a generous amount of pepper on his eggs before answering. “Why would you think that?”
Jem shrugged. Every time he watched Pa head to town on sheriff business, he wanted to run after him and beg him to stay home. Spring had brought a new rush of strangers to town. Many were hiring on at the Midas mine, but some just loafed and caused more than the usual trouble. Pa seemed to be gone from the ranch more than he was home.
“Well,” Jem tried to explain, “instead of being a part-time sheriff, it’s more like you’re a full-time sheriff and a full-time rancher. You work hard all day and then break up fights and round up riff-raff half the night.”
Ellie looked up in eagerness.
Even Nathan seemed mildly interested in what his uncle would say. At least, he’s chewing slower than usual, Jem thought. Probably watching to see if Pa will swoop down on me like a hungry hawk and put me in my place.
Pa set the pepper down. “The new jail’s been broke in, that’s for sure,” he said with a chuckle. Then his look turned serious. “Son, I’m going to say this only once, so listen carefully. I almost turned down the offer of sheriff. It’s a big job. And you’re right: it’s not the safest profession in town—or any place for that matter. But I thought long and hard about it; I even prayed about it. When a man feels he’s got a call straight from the Good Lord to do something, well”—his voice grew quiet—“he’s just got to do it.”
Jem ducked his head. “I reckon that means it’s not temporary?”
“You reckoned right,” Pa said and went back to eating. When breakfast was over, he stood up and dropped his napkin on the table. “Delicious breakfast, Rosie, but I’d best get started on my day. It’s gonna be a long one.” He headed for the back porch, then turned and gave Jem a wink. “Say howdy to Strike for me, and pan us a fistful of gold nuggets today, ya hear?”
“I sure will!” At least Pa hadn’t told him he was wasting time on a played-out gold claim. Jem grinned. He felt a little better, but not much. He couldn’t shake the feeling that being a sheriff had to be the worst job in the West. But I can’t argue with Pa, and with God besides.
Jem flew through the rest of his chores in record time. He was pleased to see that Nathan had managed to do his share with less than his usual clumsiness. He’s learning, Jem thought happily. This might turn out to be a good summer, after all. He stuffed his gold pouch into his back pocket, snatched up his gold pan, and went outside to brush Copper.
Ellie ran up just then with a gold pan tucked under her arm and a lunch pail in her hand. “Let’s hurry before Aunt Rose finds us more chores.”
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