The woman who chased Carlos onto the porch was, at nineteen or twenty, just a little older version of the girl Brit first saw when he opened his eyes after the accident almost two years before. The same reddish gold hair. The same vivid blue eyes that could shadow or turn brilliant in the tanned face and adorned with the ever present gilt freckles. Tall and strong, she could work all day and not tire, sing at the little church built by Reverend Mills’s successor and capture the hearts of Virginia City’s finest.
Why hadn’t she responded to one of her suitors, Brit wondered, amazed at the sense of loss the idea brought. All this time that Joyous had been their companion made the thought of another claiming her repellent. A new thought nagged at him. If what Angus predicted happened, then the man appointed as Joy’s guardian must see her safely through the often stormy process of finding a husband! Brit wracked his brain. Why, not one man in Virginia City was worthy of her purity and innocence. Of course, once they reached Monterey, plenty of admirable, God fearing men would be available. Why, then, did he shy away from the thought? Surely, he couldn’t be so dog-in-the-mangerish as to resent the change in their friendship that a husband would bring.
“Carlos, if you insist on gobbling up my cookies, what can I serve to the ladies who come for tea?” Joy placed her hands on her hips. Her apron billowed out around her.
“Am I not more important than these ladies?” He raised his eyebrow, and the girl’s lips twitched.
“Aren’t you ever going to grow up?” she asked.
“Señorita! I am eighteen and a man these many years.” His outraged dignity suffered an eclipse when he added, “Most of my comrades have a wife and muchachos by the time they are eighteen.”
“Heaven forbid.” Joy threw her hands into the air, then a teasing glint came into her eyes. “Of course, I have noticed some of the girls watching you when we walk to the stores.”
To Brit’s amusement, Carlos for once appeared at a total loss for words. He turned deep red and, without a reply, spun on his boot heel and went back into the house.
“What was that about?” Brit asked the laughing Joy.
“He has an eye on one of the girls, Sadie, I think her name is. She’s a nice little thing; her father just bought the mercantile.”
“Sadie Bishop?” Brit remembered the pert face of a girl whose innocent eyes reminded him of Joy’s; she had waited on him in the store. “I wonder what Don Carlos and his wife would say to their son and heir’s attachment to a storekeeper’s daughter.”
“Are they really so rigid?” Joy dropped to a rocking chair.
“Impossibly so. Family means a great deal to them.” Brit stared unseeingly down the hillside toward town. “I’m not sure they’ll accept me, in spite of the fact we will return with enough to restore their lost property and more.”
“Then they’re fools.” She flounced out of the chair and back inside before he could respond, but Brit saw anger deeper than he’d known she possessed in her sidewise glance when she passed him.
A little chill slid down his spine and words he’d overlooked in the emotional moments with Angus repeated in his brain. Should the woman ye love not welcome her, ye are to follow the instructions. . . . He shook his head impatiently. Of course Dolores and her family would welcome Joy, as warmly as they had opened their doors to the Millses, who stayed with them a few weeks before moving on. Why, as Carlos had said, if it weren’t for the McFarlanes, neither of the California travelers would be alive. Yet once the seed sprouted, it grew like sunflowers. Suppose Joyous took a dislike to the Montoyas, despite her sisterly affection toward Carlos?
“Don’t be daft,” he ordered himself and firmly fixed his mind on considering the upcoming sales of house and mines, to the extent that he put aside at least temporarily all thought of possible conflict between Joyous McFarlane and Dolores Montoya, each beautiful in her own way, yet as different as midnight and noon.
All during the financial arrangements that would free the McFarlanes, Brit, and Carlos from Virginia City, Brit watched Angus carefully. His eyes told him what his heart chose not to believe. The old prospector failed a little each day. Did Joyous know? Sometimes Brit felt she must. A quick turn of her head or the faintest sparkle in her lashes when her gaze rested on her father shouted that she, too, recognized but could not admit how short Angus’s time on earth would be.
Many times when the young woman and Carlos had gone out of earshot, Angus talked with Brit. “At first I honestly tried to find out who she was,” he confided. “Then when all trails ended in the sand, I let it go. Now I canna say I did right by her, although it turned out well. She will never be in want, and ye will see to it she’s cared for.”
Brit could only nod. A great void yawned in his life, the time when Angus would walk his final trail and part until they should meet again with their Father and His Son.
Another time Angus said, “There’s a wee dress, the one Joyous wore when I found her. It’s carefully packed. I’ve always thought it might lead to her own folks. Someday, when her heart lifts from the sadness of my passing, ask to see it.”
“I will.” Brit laid his hand on the other’s frail shoulder. “You’re not to be for worrying over Joyous. I’ll guard her as you did.”
“I know.” The two words expressed a depth of confidence and trust beyond any Brit had ever known.
❧
Of the four, Carlos seemed least aware of Angus’s final battle. Seventeen-year-old Sadie Bishop’s soft pale hair, smooth pink-and-white complexion, and shining blue eyes had enslaved him. The fact that her father despised him only added to the enchantment. “Her papa, he doesn’t know I am a rich man,” Carlos exulted. “Sadie does not know, either. She loves me, Carlos Montoya, for myself. Soon she will be eighteen. If her papa does not give his consent, I will steal Sadie and ride off to a padre, quick, before the papa can catch me.”
“Don’t do anything so stupid,” Brit advised, then sighed at love’s young dream shining in his friend’s dark eyes. Who was he to tell Carlos what to do? If Don Carlos Montoya refused his suit and Dolores were willing, wouldn’t he do the same?
In the space of a single week, everything changed. Brit sold the mine and the house to a rich speculator. Word leaked out and Carlos found himself welcome as desert flowers in the spring at the Bishop household. Sadie celebrated her eighteenth birthday with a small party and a perfect diamond solitaire on her fingers.
In the midst of rejoicing came a somber note. Angus could put off telling Joyous no longer. The ever-increasing tightness of his chest made it hard to breathe. He chose to break the news on a beautiful early autumn evening when all four of the family plus Sadie sat on the front porch and watched colored leaves whirl and softly settle in bright piles.
“Lass, all these years our Father has kept my worn-out heart beating. But now it’s weary. I am tired, too. I canna say how many days I will remain with ye, but they are sure to be few. I’d not have ye grieve too much or too long. Ye will be well cared for. Britton has given his word. There’s nay to keep ye here and it’s my wish ye go to Monterey with the others. I’m predicting Sadie will accompany ye.” He paused and the pretty girl blushed.
“Ye are a rich woman, Joyous, but not just in gold and silver. Ye have the Auld Book for your guide, the love of our Father, and the eternal thankfulness of the old Scotsman who’s been proud to have ye call him Daddy Angus.
“I’m not one for a lot of foolish talking, but when the time comes, Britton has a little packet for ye that will bring comfort.”
Joy sat quietly. Only one tear escaped to show her sorrow. Brit had never admired anyone more. He thought of his own father, his mother, Katie, and the lads. If ’twere one of them, could he refrain from breaking down, even for their sake?
Angus wasn’t quite finished. His tired, gray eyes looked toward the distant mountains above town. “I’d like for ye to put my bones to rest by the big rock over there.” He pointed. “Brit has already asked the new owner, and he has no ob
jection. It’s far enough away from the house not to be in the way and a cairn and marker can be fenced off.”
“We’ll do what you want, Daddy Angus.” Joy left her chair and knelt by his side.
The old man rested his hand on her bright hair. “Aye, but it’s a bonny lass ye are. I never told ye but once, choosing not to spoil ye. Always remember, our Father is with ye.”
“Daddy. . .” she hesitated, took a deep breath and went on, “are. . .are you afraid?”
The question hung in the silent evening air. Birds and squirrels had long since sought nests and trees. Carlos held Sadie’s hand tightly, his dark eyes filled with compassion. Brit waited, unconsciously hoping for he didn’t know what.
“Lassies and laddies, ye know how I’ve loved the desert and mountains, the canyons and valley. I’ve hankered to see beyond them all, over peaks and hills. Now I’m just wearying to know what’s around the next corner.”
Joy’s eyes filled. So did Sadie’s. Brit and Carlos gazed at each other in wordless brotherhood.
Angus looked at each in turn and brought his gaze back to his daughter’s downcast head. “Ye all know I won’t be riding the trail alone. Jesus has promised to be with us always and I ken that means going with me this time, as well.”
The rim of the sun dropped below the horizon. A rosy flushed bathed Virginia City and its surroundings with a heavenly light, tingling the faces turned toward it and filling them with glory—a fitting end to a life well lived.
Three days later, Angus started that last journey with a smile on his face and the radiant assurance of one who knows and loves his Lord.
ten
Early one bright fall morning, the four passengers who boarded the Carson City stage leading west attracted a great deal of attention from the loungers on the boardwalk. The tallest, tobacco-stained about the lips and wearing an air of importance, proceeded to inform the others in a half-mumble just who those passengers were.
“See the tall gent carrying the heavy case? That’s O’Donnell, part owner of one of the biggest mines in the territory. Just sold out for more money than we’ll ever see in our lifetimes! The Spanish one’s a partner an’ the light-headed gal in black is his wife. Purty, ain’t she?” His bold gaze crossed Sadie from the crown of her bonnet to her sturdy shoes.
“Who’s the gal wearin’ a veil? Can’t see much of her face, but there’s a hank of red hair.”
The informer snorted. “You shore are dumb. That’s old Angus McFarlane’s orphan kid he found in the desert. He struck it rich and went pards with O’Donnell and the Spanish kid. The gal’s a walking silver strike. Wish I coulda known her better. If I’d guessed what that old Scotsman—he’s dead, now—was up to, I’d a gone to meeting every Sunday. She’s got the voice of an angel and even without being rich, that gal’s worth getting religion for.”
Mercifully, the quartet being discussed missed the lout’s soliloquy. He escaped a drubbing by Brit or a challenge to a duel by Carlos, who considered their ladies joint responsibilities as well as wife and friend.
Joyous’s name belied her heart when they settled inside the stagecoach. She did say, “I’m glad we’re the only passengers,” and Carlos winked at Sadie, while Brit hid a grin. She needn’t know they’d bought up all the places in the coach to ensure a degree of comfort, much to the chagrin of disgruntled passengers who must wait and take the next coach west.
Angus and Joy’s wanderings had led them mostly in the Utah-Arizona-Nevada-eastern California area, so once the travelers crossed the Sierra Nevada Range, she lost some of her sadness in sheer wonder. How different the terrain to her desert-accustomed eyes! She stared out at a new world and something stirred within her. Ever since she looked into the heavens to say her good-byes to Angus, knowing only his frail body lay in the well-marked grave, dread of the future without him had gnawed like a mouse nibbles cheese. Seeing a new and splendid part of God’s creation helped her accept the present while still cherishing the past, although mourning the sale of Jenny.
It took them a long time to reach Monterey. Shamrock and King trotted along beside the coach, relishing patches of lush grass that appeared, cool lakes, and rushing streams.
“There are many horses on my hacienda,” Carlos told his charming bride. “You may have any one except Sol.” Longing crept into his face. “It will be good to ride that horse again, señora.” Then he laughed when Sadie blushed, still unused to her new name but wholeheartedly in love with the dashing Carlos.
“Did you send word to your parents that we are coming? And that you are bringing a bride?” Brit sternly asked at a rest stop, making sure the women didn’t hear him.
Carlos immediately put on a wounded look of innocence. “Si.”
“Are you sure?”
“Señor Brit, have I ever lied to you?” Carlos’s eyes flashed.
“You certainly have a temper! I just want to be sure we’re expected.” Curiosity made him pursue the subject. “What did you say in your message?”
Carlos raised his eyebrow in the maddening, endearing way he did so often. “Coming home. Bringing bride. Brit O’Donnell and Carlos Montoya.”
Aghast, Brit could only stare. “But. . .they will think I’m the one who’s married,” he protested. “What will Dolores do?”
Carlos leaped into the air and struck his breast with his arm. “A fool. That’s what I am.” He lost every semblance of his cheerful personality. “Señor, I am sorry. Dolores, she will be a madwoman, and I, Carlos Montoya, have done this thing! Si, it would be better had I never been born.”
Brit managed to laugh through his presentiment that an icy reception awaited them. “Don’t be for making it a tragedy. And do not tell Joyous or Sadie.”
Carlos’s white smile broke like a wave on a reef. “It will be a good joke on Dolores. First she will rave, then she will cry. Perhaps it will make her look into her heart.” His eyes filled with dreams. “Who knows? If she should marry out of. . .what is it. . .pique? The so beautiful Señorita Joyous is worth many Doloreses, even though I love my sister dearly.”
Angry at the young man and not knowing exactly why, Brit retorted, “Don’t ever say such a thing again! I am Joyous McFarlane’s guardian, nothing more.” He added for good measure, “You insult both of us when you think differently.”
Carlos hung his head, temporarily subdued.
Brit turned to see Joy vanishing into the stagecoach. His heart dropped like a cannonball. Had she heard, without understanding? Dear God, don’t let me hurt her in any way, he fervently prayed, more upset than ever with the harebrained Carlos.
To his relief the young woman acted no differently on the remainder of the journey than she had before. A few times Brit caught a questioning look in her blue eyes but so fleetingly he couldn’t be sure he’d really seen it. Other than that, the trip continued, day after day until one shining afternoon the weary travelers glimpsed the Pacific Ocean in all its sunset majesty.
Even Carlos, the eloquent, did not cheapen the moment by comparing the colors of sea and sky to Sadie’s eyes and Joy’s hair. He simply removed his sombrero, now stained from hard use. Tears welled into his eyes.
Brit experienced the same feeling of homecoming and vowed to send for his family as soon as he could find a home for them near Monterey, a farm whose rich soil would delight them, with flowers and shrubs to brighten their lives.
Sadie said nothing, just moved closer to her husband for comfort and protection in this new land. If her heart beat faster beneath her traveling dress, only she and God knew.
Joy left the others and wandered down to the water’s edge. Tiny waves advanced and retreated, stained red and orange and rose from the dying sun, topped by lacy white froth. Seeking solitude, she walked along the shore, desperately wishing Angus could be here to share the moment, unselfishly glad he had gone from his pain-wracked body. “Father, I thank Thee,” she whispered. “Be my guide.”
Not until darkness dropped like a stage curtain at the end of the s
pectacular ocean show did she turn back to the others, grateful they had understood and respected her need to be alone.
That night, California stars hung low. Joy thought of the little farm mines south in a different part of the state, but without regret. She would continue to keep it even though she might never live there. It represented happy days, growing up memories. Sometime, she would go back, but not yet. Not while Angus’s dear, dour face rose a dozen times a day to remind her of the past.
She turned her thoughts to the Millses. Brit had said they relocated in a tiny village not far from Monterey. Soon she would be able to see them again. A great rush of longing especially for Mrs. Betsy, with her round face and common sense, assailed her. Joy fell asleep with the word soon singing through her mind, accompanied by the soothing lap, lap of the Pacific Ocean’s tides.
Brit had pondered continuously about the best way to approach the Montoyas. If they simply showed up with Sadie and Joyous, surely unpleasantness and possibly hasty words would follow. He took Carlos aside, outlined a plan, and with the rather subdued young man who must now present an unknown bride to his proud parents, approached the young women.
“Carlos sent a message that we were coming and bringing a bride, but I’m wondering if it might not be for the best to have us go ahead. You charming women will want to exchange your traveling outfits for something lighter and cleaner, I’ll be thinking.”
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