by Val Wood
‘I know why we’re here,’ Clara interrupted. ‘I’m aware of your mission, Jewel, and I appreciate how important it is to you. It’s not just a very special expedition for me; it’s going to be a life-changing journey for you.’
Jewel patted Clara’s arm. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I knew you’d understand.’ Her smooth pale brow creased into a small frown. ‘But I feel so wretched. I don’t want to hurt Caitlin’s feelings by saying no, but neither do I want to say yes.’
Clara sat up. ‘Then don’t say anything, not yet. Leave it for a few days until you know her better. She might turn out to be the perfect companion for our journey!’
Jewel laughed, her mood lightening. ‘I’ve got one already,’ she said.
During the following month, Jewel and Clara explored the territory and often Caitlin went with them. The two girls had borrowed mild-mannered and sturdy mustangs and Caitlin rode her own spotted Appaloosa, a present from her parents last year, she said, on her eighteenth birthday. She was very knowledgeable about the area and knew the best tracks to take when going up the mountains.
One morning they were standing outside the Marius debating where to go when Caitlin rode up to meet them. She told them she wasn’t free to come with them as they were expecting an influx of guests and she’d promised her mother she’d help in the hotel. But she suggested a route where they would find the best view of Dreumel’s Creek.
‘Go to the end of the valley and cross the water by Lake’s Bridge, then follow the path up the mountainside. The horses are sure-footed, so you needn’t worry about the steep incline.’
‘Lake’s Bridge?’ Jewel said. ‘I didn’t know it had that name.’
Caitlin pressed her lips together and gave a little shrug. ‘It’s what I call it.’
‘Why?’ Clara asked. ‘Why lake? It isn’t a lake.’
‘Oh no. Not that kind of lake. It was someone’s name.’ Caitlin’s cheeks went pink. ‘I used to see him when I was little; except that people said I imagined him.’
‘What do you mean?’Jewel said. ‘Who was he?’
‘He was a ghost.’ Caitlin frowned a little, as if waiting for their cynicism or laughter. When it didn’t come, she added, ‘No one else ever saw him, but Ma said that I did because I was part Irish and probably believed in that kind o’ thing.’
‘So your mother believed you?’ Clara said softly.
Caitlin nodded. ‘I think she did, but Da always made fun and so she didn’t say much.’
‘Who was he?’ Clara asked. ‘Or don’t you know?’
Caitlin bit on her lip, but before she could speak Jewel interrupted. ‘I know who he was! He was the Indian who told Papa about the valley. He brought him here, otherwise no one would ever have found it!’
Clara smiled. ‘I believe you, Caitlin. I think he comes back to see if the valley is being looked after.’
‘Yes!’ Caitlin gave them an all-embracing smile. ‘That’s what I think too; but the odd thing is that whenever I saw him he was always riding back over the bridge towards the mountain, and he always turned round as he reached the high ridge. I used to wave to him,’ she said sheepishly, ‘and he always lifted his hat and waved back.’
‘What a wonderful story.’ Clara’s voice was soft. ‘I wish I could see him.’
‘He might not come any more,’ Caitlin said seriously, pleased that someone gave credit to her tale. ‘I was only a child and it was when we lived in one of the cabins in Dreumel. It’s a store now, run by a Chinese medicine man.’ She pointed to a row of shops. ‘The one that stands back from the others.’
Jewel and Clara gazed in that direction. ‘We’ll take a look,’ Clara said, and Jewel added that if they were going up the mountain they’d better be moving off as the morning was getting hotter.
‘Watch out for black bears,’ Caitlin called as she turned her mount to head back to Yeller. ‘Keep to the path and you’ll be safe.’
‘Black bears!’ Clara gasped. ‘Is she serious?’
‘Yes,’Jewel said. ‘I’m sure she is.’
They were both wearing large-brimmed hats but even so the sun beat down on their heads as they rode through the pastureland and into the thick scrub, and they were pleased to reach the tree line. The pines here gave green shelter and as they rode higher and the forest grew thicker it became cooler and darker. Presently they reached a rocky clearing and wheeled the horses round so that they could look down.
‘Mama came in this way,’ Jewel murmured. ‘On her very first visit to Dreumel. She told me that she thought it the most beautiful place she had ever seen.’
‘And so it is,’ Clara said softly, almost afraid to break the spell of the moment. Below them the waters of the creek in the valley sparkled in the sunlight, the small wavelets tossing and foaming as they surged. The source was high in the mountains beyond Yeller Valley into which it also ran; down the middle of the township, through a gap in the mountain wall and beneath the Western Bridge into Dreumel’s Creek. They couldn’t see the town of Yeller as it was hidden by the mountain range, although they could see Pike’s Road leading towards it; but Dreumel, with its wooden houses and cabins, its stores and hotels, lay there before them.
‘To think that just a few short years ago there was nothing here,’ Clara said, after a moment. ‘And yet the town seems permanent, as if it’s been here for ever. I don’t mean like English towns, not like Hull with its old buildings, cobbled streets and ancient heritage, but somehow enduring and settled.’
‘Yes,’Jewel said. ‘It does. And yet Yeller doesn’t. Yeller looks as if it has been thrown up in a great hurry.’
‘Why is it called Yeller?’ Clara asked. ‘It’s an odd kind of name.’
Jewel smiled. ‘Because of the gold. One of the men who discovered gold in the creek named it Yeller Valley. Seemingly the creek was glistening with the yeller stuff!’
They turned about and continued up the track, but now the going was more difficult. The path seemed to be little used and in places all but disappeared, and they had to make detours to avoid fallen trees or duck their heads to dodge overhanging branches.
‘I think we should go back,’ Clara was beginning, but then as Jewel, who was leading the way, halted and lifted her hand in warning. ‘What?’ Clara whispered.
‘Shh.’Jewel put her finger to her lips and Clara stared about her, her eyes open wide, looking and listening intently.
There was something; but afterwards, when they discussed it, they both agreed that they could say nothing conclusive or significant about the occurrence, or even if there had been one. But they both felt a presence; a whisper in the trees, a sough or faint breath, like a sigh, which encircled them and compelled them, without either saying a word to the other, to simultaneously turn about and return the way they had come.
CHAPTER NINE
The next day they told Caitlin what had happened, but no one else. They knew she would believe that something strange had occurred even though they couldn’t really say what it had been.
‘It was a sense of a presence,’ Clara said.
‘An unexplained atmosphere,’ Jewel added, ‘and I’m not in the habit of being fanciful.’
‘Do you think it was Lake?’ Caitlin asked eagerly. ‘Perhaps he’s still living in the forests – or at least his spirit is.’
‘But why would his spirit stay here, when there are thousands of miles of forests? Oh, we’re being silly!’ Jewel said. ‘It was probably a bear that we heard, and when it saw us, it moved off.’
Clara agreed somewhat reluctantly that perhaps it could have been that, but Caitlin, in spite of not having been there, was more inclined to think that it was Lake returning to his old hunting lair.
‘This area once belonged to the Indians,’ she said, ‘so maybe they are watching over us. Don’t tell anyone else,’ she urged them. ‘They’ll laugh, just as they used to with me.’
‘Caitlin,’ Jewel said, changing the subject, ‘Clara and I are leaving at the end of the
week. I’m really sorry,’ she began, but Caitlin brushed her apologies aside.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Pa’s just bothered about me going anywhere without him or Ma. He’s forgotten that Ma was younger than me when she came to America with Aunt Gianna all the way from England. In any case, the hotel is fully booked with visitors for the next few weeks and I probably can’t be spared; people are coming to look at land for building new homes and businesses.’ But she gave a huge sigh and her lips turned down, and they understood how disappointed she was.
Two days before they were due to leave Caitlin took them on a journey to the end of Yeller Valley and up the mountain range. It was a hard climb for Jewel and Clara, unused to riding such a long way or in such heat, and after an hour they begged to stop and get down to ease their aching muscles and take a drink.
‘Sorry,’ Caitlin apologized. She seemed not at all bothered about the heat and quite cool beneath her hat, cotton shirt and skirt. ‘I keep forgetting that you’re not as at home on horseback as I am. I’ve been riding since I was – oh, I dunno, maybe two or three years old. My first horse was called Hetty.’ She turned to Jewel. ‘She was once your ma’s.’
Jewel smiled and nodded. ‘I recall Mama telling me about Hetty.’ Then she fell silent as a faint memory disturbed her: the long sea passage to England when she was very young and Gianna telling her anecdotes and stories to keep up her spirits. She remembered, too, feeling very lost and frightened and knew now that it was because she had lost her father; her real father, Edward, not Wilhelm.
They were standing on a rocky promontory and looking down towards Yeller. Clara, whose fair skin was beaded with sweat, said they must move back under the pines to find some shade or they would suffer sunstroke as the heat beat down even through their hats.
They found a sheltered spot beneath the pines and drank from their water flasks and ate some of the food that had been packed for them. Slices of juicy water melon refreshed them and rye bread and beef gave them energy.
After a half-hour rest they moved off again, climbing in single file ever higher until, when they looked down into the valley, Yeller looked like a toy town, the pitched roofs shaped like the serrated teeth of a saw and people mere dots on the ground. They could also see the scars on the lower mountainside where diggings had been made in the search for gold; a broken windlass and abandoned and dilapidated shacks remained, perched at perilous angles, memorials to lost hopes and dreams.
‘Why did everyone build so close to each other in Yeller?’ Clara asked. ‘There’s still a great deal of spare land.’
‘Well, I dunno,’ Caitlin said. ‘I guess they like being friendly. Or maybe folks couldn’t afford a bigger plot.’
I wouldn’t like it, Clara thought. It’s like the terraced housing in the courts of Hull where the poor live cheek by jowl with their neighbours and can hear every cough or cry through the walls. It’s not healthy, she mused, and neither do I think it’s safe to be so close.
The mountain trail was becoming steeper, and when they glanced up they saw that the pines were much thicker. The trees looked impenetrable and they decided to turn round and make their way back again.
‘I hope the horses don’t find it difficult,’ Jewel said nervously. ‘The path is very steep.’
‘Not they,’ Caitlin said emphatically. ‘Just let them go at their own pace. They’re very sure-footed and can travel for hours.’
Jewel thought that was probably true, but both she and Clara were coming to the end of their endurance, being hot, tired and aching as they clung on down the precipitous and narrow route.
At one point Caitlin, in front, reined to a halt and held out her arm, her hand held high, indicating that they should stop. Fifty yards in front of them a black bear appeared out of the undergrowth and ambled across their path, seemingly oblivious of their presence, even though the horses snorted in fear. Jewel turned round to look at Clara, who puffed out her cheeks and gazed back with wide scared eyes, but didn’t dare to make a sound.
‘How did you know there was a bear?’Jewel asked Caitlin a little later when the track evened out and wasn’t so steep, and she could at last let out a breath which she had been holding in, tight with dread. ‘I didn’t hear anything.’
‘Nor did I,’ Caitlin said. ‘But my horse did. She was becoming nervous and agitated and I knew it wasn’t the route but had to be something else. There are always bears up here,’ she added soberly, ‘but they’re not a menace unless they’re frightened or have young with them. Anyway, come on. Another hour and we’ll be home.’
Jewel and Clara were so stiff that they could barely dismount, though Caitlin simply sprang out of her saddle. She turned to help Jewel down and then laughed as Robert ran down the steps of the hotel to assist Clara.
‘He’s in love,’ she murmured to Jewel. ‘He’s been waiting for her.’ She grinned mischievously at her brother, who glared at her but kept hold of Clara’s elbow as he shepherded her into the hotel. She was glad of his support. She felt as if she might never walk unaided again.
As they sat comfortably drinking lemonade and eating cake which Kitty had ordered for them, Caitlin suddenly excused herself and dashed away, saying she’d seen someone through the window to whom she must speak immediately.
‘I’m beginning to think that Caitlin might have been an intrepid companion after all,’ Jewel murmured, and Clara nodded in agreement. ‘She’s quite level-headed; and although she appeared to be unconcerned about the bear, it didn’t mean that she was unaware of the danger.’
‘You’re quite right,’ Clara said. ‘She knows the area, of course, and what to expect from it. Which we don’t,’ she added.
Through the glass they could see Caitlin speaking animatedly and enthusiastically to a young man and pointing in the direction of the mountain range they had just traversed.
‘But it’s too late now.’ Jewel shook her head. ‘And besides, her father said she couldn’t go.’
They decided to go back to the Marius for supper, start their packing for the journey and then spend the next day at their leisure. Caitlin said that she would join them for breakfast and stay for the day, and Kitty said that she and Ted would come over at some time to say goodbye, whilst Robert seemed totally miserable.
‘You’ll have to put him out of his misery, Clara,’ Caitlin whispered out of Robert’s hearing. ‘Can’t you tell him that you’ve got a young man back home in England?’
‘Which she has,’ Jewel teased. ‘Thomas.’
Clara blushed. ‘Thomas is my best friend, after you, Jewel, as you know very well. He’s not my young man!’
‘He thinks he is.’Jewel smiled. ‘He adores you.’
‘As Dan does you,’ Clara retaliated. ‘He’s obsessed by you.’
Jewel shrugged. ‘I haven’t even thought of Dan whilst we’ve been away. It’s as if we’re living in another world.’
Clara didn’t answer. She’d thought of Thomas most days and realized that she was missing him. They were of compatible temperaments, enjoyed similar things and didn’t necessarily need to talk but appreciated companionable silence. He would, she knew, like to experience America as she was doing, but, also like her, wouldn’t want to make it his home. The country was too big for her, so immense and spacious that she felt small and insignificant within it. She wasn’t homesick, but she missed all the people she loved and had left behind.
When they left Yeller Valley Hotel she saw Robert, a shadowy figure in the hall; she called to him and said that she hoped he would be able to come and say goodbye before they left Dreumel. She put her small hand in his large one and left it there and said how pleased she had been to meet him and his family.
He blushed and his eyes watered as he bit his bottom lip and she was pleased that she had been kind to him, for he seemed considerably brighter. She guessed that one day he would tell his friends that he had once loved a young Englishwoman and would boast that he thought she probably felt the same way about him.
‘So am I,’ Clara agreed. ‘The air is so heavy. Do you think there’ll be a storm?’ She looked out of the window, but the sky was blue and the sun still shining even though it was starting to slip behind the mountains. ‘It would be good to have some rain to clear the air.’
Jewel lay on her bed and fanned herself. ‘It would, but I don’t think there’ll be any.’
‘Did you notice how dry the timber was in Yeller?’ Clara said, continuing to gaze out towards the creek. ‘The buildings, I mean. There was one, I think it was a carpenter’s shop, where sparks were falling from the chimney – the stove pipe, I mean – and landing on the roof.’
Jewel didn’t answer, but turned her cheek on the pillow and closed her eyes.
‘Shall I order supper to be brought upstairs?’ Clara said. ‘I don’t think I can be bothered to change. I have no energy. We could bathe and put on our night clothes—’
‘And have a picnic,’ Jewel said sleepily. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’
‘I’ll go down, then.’ Clara turned towards the door.
‘Ring the bell,’ Jewel murmured. ‘The maid will come up.’
Clara looked at Jewel, who was almost asleep, and decided to go downstairs and ask whoever was at the desk to send up something light: chicken or poached eggs, bread and butter and a pot of tea. Then she would go outside for a moment to get a breath of air, for there was none in their bedrooms in spite of the windows’ being open.
James Crawford was standing out on the boardwalk as if he had had the same notion. He turned when he heard her, and smiled a greeting. He was without his jacket and his crisp white shirt was open at the neck, while his black sleek hair was tied with a cord at the back of his head. He immediately began to button up his shirt.
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Newmarch,’ he apologized. ‘Forgive my state of undress. I’m not yet on duty and came out for some air.’
‘Please,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry on my account. It’s so hot, isn’t it? Do you think it will rain? Weather as hot as this in England, which I must say is very rare, is generally followed by a deluge.’