Katy was close now and for the first time in her life she touched him, running her right hand along the mass of scars on his back. Lance side-stepped away from her and quickly pulled on his shirt.
"It's nothing," he said.
"Oh," said Katy. "I've never seen anything like it. Does it hurt?"
"No."
"What happened to you? How . . . I mean . . . what terrible thing has someone done to you?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," replied Lance.
"Don't you trust me? Aren't we friends? Aren't we more than just . . ."
"Of course I trust you."
"You've been so wonderful to me. If it wasn't for you and your friend, maybe all of us would have died. In fact, I've been thinking about it, and I am certain Johnny and I would have gotten sick."
"You would have done the same . . ."
"No, I wouldn't have," replied Katy emphatically. "Like everyone else, I would be afraid of getting sick. Only you, Eddy, and that wonderful old man . . ."
"We were glad to help."
"Now that we're better, are you going to leave?"
"I'll remain as long as you and your uncle need . . . or . . . want me," replied Lance.
"I've already told Uncle Clare that I care about you."
"You did?" he asked, bending his tall frame down so he could hear her soft voice.
"I told him," she whispered hesitantly, "that I would go anywhere you go, as long as you would have us. After all, you saved our lives."
"You needn't say such things," said Lance.
"Oh, but I must. You even gave up going with those other men to the gold fields. Look at how many miners passed by and not one offered to help."
"I think it was what happened in my past . . . that made me . . ."
His declaration even surprised him and he stopped to think about what he just admitted, to himself, as well as to Katy.
While they were talking, the sun set and darkness fell all around them. A hot wind that had been blowing all day, abruptly stopped. Insects chirped loudly. Packs of coyotes beginning their nightly hunt howled. An owl hooted, and the air became cooler and thicker as it seemed to settle down upon them.
"It's time we talked," said Katy. "I never properly thanked you or Eddy. It's almost as if both of you are part of my family."
"I feel the same way."
"Then why be so secretive? You've never told me anything about your past and those scars on your back. There are so many of them. It must have been very painful . . ."
"I'm ashamed," said Lance.
"You don't trust me," said Katy.
"Yes, I do. But you can't possibly want to know where I came from or what I . . ."
There was a long silence. And in that silence, coyote calls filled the night.
"Is it as bad as all that?" asked Katy.
"Worse," replied Lance.
"Tell me then," she said. "Otherwise, it will always stand between us. I just can't imagine you ever deliberately doing anything wrong."
It was a long time before Lance began to speak. For a while, the two of them walked along the stream and then they came to where the mules and horses were picketed. They could hear the tearing and chewing of grass. They walked beyond the sound and out onto dry prairie and shorter grass, far from the river where no one could hear them.
Then slowly, picking his words carefully, Lance told Katy about his past. Several times he heard her gasp, but he continued on, talking faster and the words spilled from him. He told her how he was born, about how he was raised as a slave, and how the black woman known as Mammy was his one constant comfort. He explained that he had lived a life of harsh labor and constant cruelty. When he told of the Sunday readings from the Bible, and of the poverty and conditions he endured, Katy grasped his arm. Lance explained what the woman known as Mammy meant to him and to the other slaves. When he described her death, he relived those emotions and choked with the telling of it.
"Go on," said Katy. "Mammy died and you and the others had to continue . . ."
"Yes," replied Lance. "After that it was never the same. There was no one to replace her, and life became harder. We tried to meet on Sundays, but none of us could read and all we could do is talk about her and what she had done for us. And then I began to fight back and many times I tried to run, and I was caught and whipped and . . ."
"You've told me enough," said Katy, her voice quavering. "You can tell me more later. The rest I can guess. You escaped and that's why you're here now."
"Yes," said Lance. "Now you know."
"Why did you believe I would think badly of you?" asked Katy. "That was your past, you're a westerner now, just like me. We're on the California Trail and we're headed for the gold fields and a new life. I feel even closer to you. Just imagine . . . all you've been through . . . yet you are the kindest, most gentle man I've ever known."
"You still care for me after all . . . I said?"
"You know I do. I won't ever repeat any of it. You trusted me enough. Now let me share some of my . . ."
They walked further out onto the prairie.
"I've never said this to anyone but perhaps you'll understand me better if I do. My father . . . he tried his best . . . but there were times when he lost his temper. We had a little land and raised cattle and crops. Father always wanted to go west and Mother wouldn't let him. When Mother, my husband, and my uncle's families died from a fever epidemic back in Missouri, my father and my uncles heard of the gold strike, and nothing could stop them. I had no choice but to bring Johnny and go with them."
"Do you miss your husband?" asked Lance.
"You will think I'm terrible, but no," replied Katy.
"What do you mean?" asked Lance, surprise showing in his voice.
"Father liked Jack, my husband. Sometimes I think better than me. Jack worked on the farm and he courted me and Father pushed. I was young and not so sure."
"And you married him?"
"I resisted as long as I could. He and my uncles built us a little cabin. Too late, I found out that Jack had a temper. When he was tired and drinking, he used to hit me. I didn't know what to do and father was . . ."
"I'm sorry," said Lance, and for the first time in his life, the big man reached out and put his large arms gently around a woman.
It felt natural, and to his surprise Katy did not pull away, but instead hugged him back.
"I'm sorry, too," said Katy, "and most of all I miss my mother. But I suppose . . . no, I believe . . . sometimes in this life, things happen for a reason."
"Mammy said that God is always watching over us, and that He never gives us more than we can handle."
"She must have been a very special lady," said Katy.
"She was everything to me."
The two remained in each other's arms. A pack of coyotes, very close, suddenly began high pitched howling, followed by constant yipping. This broke the magic of the moment.
"Perhaps we better get back to camp."
"Before we do," said Katy. "I have one last confession."
"Yes?"
"I've seen you once before."
"You did?" asked Lance. "Where?"
"It was on a river. You were unloading a boat and I just couldn't look away. You were so splendidly strong and handsome."
They continued to embrace and both felt the heat of the other through their clothing. Then Lance began to release her, and in that instant Katy stood on tiptoes. He bent lower and she reached up and kissed him hard on the lips.
"There," she said. "I've wanted to do that since the first time I ever saw you."
Along the way in the dark, Katy found and held Lance's hand. When they finally came to the camp, they separated and went up to the fire to greet the others.
Chapter Ten
Nearly four weeks passed before supplies and kegs of boiled water were tied on the mules and the wagon. Katy and Johnny rode up on the seat beside Uncle Clare who drove the team. Lance and Fast Eddy each guided six heavily laden mules. Fol
lowing a map Horntoad Harry had drawn, they left the Humboldt River and headed west across the desert.
It took all day to travel twelve miles, and despite the well fed and rested stock, the desert heat and barren dryness took its toll. Water would not last long under these conditions. They made a dry camp and rested. Early in the morning, after watering the stock and themselves, they continued on. During the middle of the day they came upon two wagons and eight worn out mules. There were six men and they had pushed themselves and their stock since leaving Missouri and all of them were mere skin and bones.
"We'll give you money, guns, anything we have for water," whispered the leader of the group.
Despite the protestations of Fast Eddy and Clare, Lance left two large barrels of water. Several of the men tried to give a twenty dollar gold piece and Lance refused. Then one of the men came forward and into Katy's hand he placed a gold locket and chain.
"It was my wife's. She died and it would be my honor if the pretty lady would take it."
Katy put the necklace in a pocket and then she reined her mule forward. Behind them they heard the thirsty men gather around the two water barrels. A few miles further on, Eddy asked Lance the obvious question.
"Do you think they'll make it?"
"If they leave their wagons, take a couple of mules, and spare the water, they have a chance."
"Do you think they will?"
"No," replied Lance.
Further on, they came upon abandoned furniture, parts of broken down wagons, bones of dead mules and horses, and several human skeletons. Everything that Horntoad Harry had said about this desert was true. It was harder going than they imagined and at the end of the day, they stopped to save the mules. Many of the water barrels were already empty, and several of them they discarded to lighten the load for the thirsty animals.
They lit a dung fire to heat coffee and warm and soften dried meat. From experience, even upon the desert, the three men shared guard duty.
In the morning, after breakfast, coffee, and watering the stock, they continued on. At midday they saw a group of horses moving diagonally towards them.
"We'll dismount and stand ready," suggested Lance.
Using the vehicle for cover, the men stood with rifles. Katy and little Johnny stayed hidden behind the wagon and water barrels.
"They ride like soldiers," said Clare.
"They saw our fire last night," explained Lance. "We knew better than to light one at dark."
There was a line of eleven horsemen, riding in columns of two. They halted some distance away.
"Hello the wagon!" came a call.
"Who is it?" asked Lance.
"My name's Colonel Stevenson. I mustered out last year. Presently I am the alcalde of a little gold town called Moke Hill. Perhaps you've heard of it?"
"No, sir," responded Lance. "I know neither of your town or what an alcalde is."
"I was appointed mayor to draw up a code of mining laws and regulations. The gold is very rich there and it has brought many disputes."
"Then why are you on the desert and with these soldiers?" asked Lance.
"I heard reports that travelers along this stretch were dying. We've been putting up signs at the Humboldt River warning people to fill up with water before crossing the desert. These soldiers were loaned to me for that purpose."
"We had a scout warn us to take plenty of water," said Lance.
"How fortunate for you," replied the colonel. "We're also recruiting miners and laborers to our town—if you are interested. When gold was discovered, President Polk appointed me and had me bring a regiment of men around the horn to California. That's how I happen to be here now."
"You came by boat?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, half as many are coming by ship. They're calling themselves Argonauts. Would you mind us joining your camp?"
"We're armed, Colonel, and we've had our share of trouble."
"Then you don't believe what I am saying?"
"We prefer to take no chances."
"Then let me tell you, if you make it across this infernal waste, the worst of your trip will be done. You will reach the Carson River and from there, pass over the mountains to California. I recommend you think about coming to our town. Here's a map I'm giving to travelers showing how to find the Carson River, then go south to reach the Mokelumne River. You follow that right into Mokelumne Hill."
Lance took a folded paper and stuck it in his pocket.
"And, I have a great deal more to . . ."
"Colonel," said Lance, "we've faced robbers, cholera, thirst, and hunger. What more can you warn us about?
"A great deal more about the mining camps! Perhaps what I have to relate to you will be of importance."
"We're listening."
The leader of the group dismounted and walked forward.
"You can lower your rifles," said Colonel Stevenson. "You have nothing to fear from me."
"If you don't mind, we will keep our guard," said Lance.
The colonel smiled stiffly. "Healthy folks like you are exactly the type our town is calling for," he said, looking up at the big man.
"You said you had something important to tell us," interrupted Clare.
"No need to be rude, Uncle," said Katy.
"Thank you, ma'am, it has been a hard ride, and it is a pleasure to see a woman of such beauty on so barren a plain."
Katy blushed.
"What do you know of the gold fields?" asked Colonel Stevenson.
"Not much," admitted Lance. "We see many men passing along the trail. We heard there's much gold."
"Both true. Already, there are nearly sixty thousand people in the gold camps, and more coming every day. San Francisco is nearly abandoned. Shipping vessels sail in and whole crews desert leaving the boats sitting empty in the harbor. Farmers, ranchers, and merchants have left their jobs for the gold fields and soldiers from some of the forts have deserted. Last year, men in Moke Hill were so busy digging and gathering gold they refused to stop to get supplies. The town and the miners were starving until one fellow went to Stockton and returned with food. It made him rich. There are all kinds of opportunity to make money, and not all of it is digging for gold."
"You're just saying that, mister," said Clare.
"I'm not. And you should know what you're facing before you get there."
"Well, get on with it," said Clare.
"This is what I have seen with my own eyes," said Colonel Stevenson. "If a man is willing to work hard, dig, and move a great deal of earth, gold can be dug out of the rivers and tributaries. I've seen five men on a Long Tom collect a hundred dollars in gold in one day. I've seen thirty-five Indians working to earn clothes and supplies, dig up twelve thousand in nuggets and dust, using willow baskets. I witnessed two miners with a rocker move a hundred yards of dirt from a trench, in a week, and wash out seventeen thousand in gold."
"That's what I'm talking about!" replied Clare, his eyes blazing.
"But with all the land and claims still open, not everyone finds gold. Most men on average dig up twenty-five to thirty-five dollars worth in a day."
"You're trying to scare us off," said Clare.
"Not at all. Thousands have the gold fever and they're coming from everywhere in the world. This is what I'm here to tell you. The real money is not in prospecting but in supplying the miners."
"That can't be true," replied Clare.
"But it is," said the colonel. "I need men to carry food and supplies to the gold camps. Think what good use these mules could be put to. You can get supplies in Stockton and sell to the miners. Why, a pound of sugar is going for two dollars . . . coffee . . . flour. Women are charging twenty-five dollars for a cooked meal. Prices are sky-high—miners with gold will pay almost anything."
"We'll think on it, Colonel Stevenson," said Lance. "We're obliged to you for stopping."
"My pleasure, and now that I think about it, perhaps your distrust along the trail is a wise action. I suggest you continue t
o be cautious. There's no law and men are robbed and killed every day. Already there have been thousands murdered – not just for gold but for food and supplies. Men are killing Indians in order to strike claims on their land or to steal their woman and children for slaves. The law here allows Indian slaves. And the Indians are attacking the miners in reprisal. Any man who goes into the gold fields risks his life in many ways. Those mules of yours, you'll never keep them if you don't stand guard."
"Thanks for warning us, Colonel," said Lance.
"My men and I will move on, we want to get off this accursed desert. Perhaps we will run into each other again. If so, could I have your names?"
"This is Katherine, and I'm Lance."
The well-dressed stranger tipped his hat and mounted. The troop rode directly west and it was a long time before they disappeared from view.
"Do you think he told the truth of it?" asked Clare.
"I do, Uncle," replied Katy.
"Me too," said Fast Eddy.
On the third day, before daylight, they again watered the mules, discarded more empty kegs, and moved on. The group pushed forward into dusk, and still the desert was before them. Not daring to stop, they traveled through the night, climbing higher and into the mountains. Dry barren land turned to grass and the air became cooler. They came to trees and finally to the gurgling and fast moving Carson River. Exhausted, they made camp. They spent the night on the mountain next to the stream and in the morning rose early, anxious to get to the gold fields.
"You might take that fellow's notion about using the mules for carrying freight, and it might be true it will earn us more money," said Clare. "But I'm not traveling all the way across the country to the gold fields and not try a little gold mining."
"I think we should all have a go at it," said Fast Eddy. "We'd be fools not to at least stake a claim and try. If we don't strike it rich, we can always fall back to hauling freight."
"I'd like to try too," said Katy.
"And me," added Johnny.
"I guess I'm outnumbered but eventually I want to go into the freighting business," replied Lance. "While we're mining, we're gonna have trouble with the mules, feeding them and guarding them."
West of the Big River: Boxed Set of Eight Western Novels Page 53