He stilled, his eyes flicking up at her. “Didn’t Gideon tell you?”
She shook her head, feeling guilty for going behind her husband’s back to ask his brother.
Emmett shifted, sliding his gaze away. It was clear that the subject wasn’t a favorite of either Cartwright brother.
What are they both hiding?
When he finally told her, it was the last thing she’d expected, and Elinor wondered just how much she really knew about her husband’s life.
Chapter 22
“Emmett,” pleaded Elinor, “I know I shouldn’t ask, but Gideon always avoids talking about his father. He initially told me that your father died of consumption like your mother—but last night he said it wasn’t true, and though he promised to tell me about it later, he never did.”
Emmett scoffed, “And he probably never will, if he has any say in it.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Pa left us years ago—I assume you know that much.”
“No! Gideon told me your Pa had died...”
“He did,” Emmett nodded, growing solemn, “but he left years before that. I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you the whole story…but maybe if I tell you the highlights, he’ll be forced fill in the rest. At least, whatever he’s willing to share. Good luck getting much out of him—he barely speaks of Pa, and doesn’t even like me or my sisters mentioning him.”
“I appreciate anything you can share. I have a feeling he’s been holding a lot back.”
“That’s Gideon for you. Direct, honest, and never shies away from a conflict…as long as you don’t bring up our Pa. But just so you know, he’s gonna want a piece of my hide after this. You might need to bake me a pie to make up for it.” He grinned, pointing to his belly.
She laughed. “You name the pie, I’ll find out how to make it. But I can’t promise it will turn out well.”
His gaze was shrewd and penetrating. “That’s quite a gamble…hmmmm…I reckon I’ll take my chances.” He slapped the table and grinned, extracting a laugh from Elinor before his face melted into a somber expression. “Did Gideon tell you Pa brought us out to Montana to mine a claim?”
Elinor shook her head.
“Yep. Bit by the Fever. We all came out here by wagon train back in ’80. One heck of a trip. Never been so tired in all my life. Almost walked my little legs down to stumps. We almost lost Hattie to cholera. A lot of people lost family to it, in our group. Ma was devastated when she thought Hattie was going to die, and made Pa promise to find a job in Helena, rather than work a claim out in the mountains. Pa made the promise, but he couldn’t give up his dream. He thought he was going to make his fortune.
“So we mined a claim a ways south of Helena for about a year. But the money ran out, and Ma said they couldn’t feed a family of six on the little ore that Pa was finding. So we gave up the claim and moved into Helena, and he got different jobs, trying to make ends meet.”
Elinor couldn’t imagine how worried Mrs. Cartwright must have been, if they couldn’t feed the children.
“Pa hated working town jobs, and he didn’t last long at any of them. He said his bosses were always unfair to him, not giving his full pay, asking him to work harder than the other workers did. He could barely make rent. We all lived crammed into a tiny apartment over a mercantile in town. Helena was rougher back then—the vigilante gang did cut down on lawlessness, and things improved when the local government took a firmer hand, but there were still rowdier saloons then, more parlor houses, and more miners without families, which made for a rougher environment. Takes you ladies to smooth out a man’s rough edges.” He winked at Elinor.
“Anyway, those were tough times. We didn’t always have enough to eat, but we got by. But Pa…he always felt the call of the claim. He said he hated seeing us suffer, and once we boys were old enough to work, by his estimation, he told Ma he was going to file a new claim and start mining again, to give us a better life. Ma was all shook up over it, and Gideon was furious. We were in school still, and neither he nor Ma wanted us boys to go to work. Ma wanted better for us. She said a proper education meant better jobs. Gideon was sixteen then, and I was fourteen. Plenty old enough to work, in my opinion, and I was tired of school anyway. But Gideon wouldn’t hear of it. Made me stay in school no matter how bad things got. And they got bad.”
“How did you get by?” Elinor was surprised Gideon hadn’t told her any of this. She thought they’d gotten close…but there was so much more to the man she had married than she could have imagined.
“When Pa left to work a claim down near Butte, Gideon took over. I kept going to school, while he worked a ranch job from before sunrise until late afternoon. Then he worked at the Feed and Seed until supper, then on to a third job after supper. He barely got six hours of shut-eye a night.
“I only worked after school, until supper, stocking at Sanders’ Mercantile, and loading stuff into customers’ wagons. Ma took to mending and laundering miners’ clothing when they came into town, and once in a while she’d make a dress for a lady. Our apartment tiny, with only one bedroom and a leaky roof. Ma and the girls slept in the bedroom, squeezed onto the double bed, while I slept on a cot by the woodstove and Gideon slept on a bedroll on the floor. He was so tired, I don’t know how he got through the day. And he still found time to check up on us, and make sure we weren’t getting into mischief.”
“Oh my…I had no idea.”
“How could you? You know, he may have been a thorn in my side during those years, but he worked hard, and gave us everything we needed. Soon enough, things were better with Gideon and Ma working than they’d ever been when Pa had. Eventually Gideon worked his way up to cow-calf man on the ranch, and was the ranch foreman’s right-hand man, even though he was one of the younger men on the job. He talked the foreman into hiring me to work after school, and hiring Ma to do the dishes and help out the woman who did the cooking and laundry for the ranch hands. We got to stay on the ranch in a tiny little cabin—only one bedroom, again, but it was roomier, and we could sit out on the front porch in the nicer weather. After about a year, the girls started helping Ma do the cooking on the weekends for the ranch hands, after the cook left. I was old enough to quit school, so I started working full days on the ranch.
“Things weren’t too bad after that. Gideon would ride into town at night to work at one of the least-rowdy saloons—one without saloon girls, I might add—and did odd jobs there. He helped the barkeep clean up, kept track of the liquor supplies, stocked the back room, and kept the rougher customers from getting out of hand. Ma didn’t like it, but Gideon said it was the only job he could get after his ranching job was done for the day. My brother worked so hard, I half-expected him to expire. But he saved every cent of the saloon money, and some of his ranch pay, and kept us fed and clothed, besides.”
“What happened to your father?”
Emmett rubbed his hand over his face. “Pa never came home. We got a few letters at first, but as time went on…” he looked away, out the kitchen window at the twilight sky. “I guess he was so busy at his claim, he sort of…forgot about us. But you know, when you’re out on your claim, time gets away from you, and you don’t go into town much, unless you’re one of those miners who spends every cent they make on booze and women. Me, I like to indulge sometimes, but I’m too smart to throw all my money away. So was my Pa, I’m sure. But some people just don’t have good luck, and they can barely feed themselves on the few nuggets they find.
“Sometimes I wondered if maybe he got tired of Ma begging him to come home. I told her she needed to give him space, but she said he had sixty miles of space, and it was high time he took care of his family. Ma was distraught and overworked. I worried about her—Gideon did, too. The girls tried to look after her, take off some of the burden, but they were in school still, and only fifteen and eleven years old when…uh…when we got word Pa had died. He got the grippe.”
Elinor was taken aback. Why did Gideon lie at first, and say it was consumptio
n? She didn’t understand the need to hide the fact that his father died from the grippe. “I’m so sorry. That must have been hard.”
Emmett cleared his throat. “Yeah. It…things would have been better, with Pa around. Gideon missed out on a big chunk of his life, caring for us. Pa was gone for about three years, and didn’t come back, not even once. He died in Butte, which I never understood, especially now that I’m a miner myself. When I leave my claim, sure I’m eager to go into town, but I also can’t help but want to come back and visit my family. Sure, his claim was closer to Butte then Helena, but even so, if Pa took a break from working his claim to go into town, why didn’t he come to Helena? Why didn’t he come see us?”
Elinor could see the hurt and sadness in his eyes—the pain of the sixteen year old boy Emmett had once been, losing the father he’d looked up to, in spite of the man abandoning him.
“I know my Pa meant well, and I know he wanted to strike it rich so he could provide better for us, but…that’s the one thing I am angry at him for. He stayed away, and he let my Ma suffer so. He should have sought his fortune before marrying and having children. Not after. That’s why I’m not married.” He looked up at Elinor. “I won’t put a family through what my Pa put us through. I watched my Ma wither away, and I couldn’t make someone I love go through such pain. I saw what it did to Gideon, too. My Pa leaving filled him with bitterness. For a long time, it really consumed him, but Ma dragged him to church again—for a while, he’d been working Sundays, too—and she told him he had to get right with God, and learn some forgiveness. I think he did, but then when Pa died, and we lost Ma not too many months later…a part of him died, too. He still doesn’t like to speak of Pa, and doesn’t want the rest of us to, either. I don’t want to ever have children, and make them feel that kind of bitterness toward me. Nope, better to stay a bachelor.”
“It’s no wonder Gideon doesn’t want to talk about it. I can see why he’s so indignant at the idea of someone running away from their problems…” Elinor chewed her lip, and her vision blurred with tears. How could she tell Gideon the truth now? How could she admit she had abandoned a man at the altar and escaped by becoming a mail order bride—and all by lying to him and masquerading as the girl Gideon had been courting through letters? Letting him think she could cook, as Addie could, was one thing—but fleeing responsibility and commitment? She would be akin to his father, in his eyes. How could he ever look at her again?
“You don’t need to cry, Adelaide.” Emmett leaned forward, scratching his beard, bemused at her tears. “Gideon is alright now. He has you. What’s done is done. You just look toward the future, and all those babies you’ll be having. I can see you’re going to make my brother a very happy man.”
Will I? she wondered. Or will I disappoint him the same way his Pa did?
“Don’t you worry about Gideon, though. He’ll make a fine Pa to your babies. He’s responsible. Steadfast. He took care of us all, with nary a complaint.” Emmett sighed. “As much as it kills me to admit it—and I’ll deny it if you ever tell him this—but sometimes I wish I was more like him. You know, the sort that can settle down, have a family. I prefer to follow the beat of my own drum. I like adventure, and change, and cutting loose once in a while. Maybe I got it from my Pa—he hated the drudgery of the town jobs he had to work. Maybe if I was more like Gideon, I’d have a comfortable home and a pretty girl looking after me.” He grinned at her. “But he’s earned it. I haven’t. And I’ve spent too long partaking in the world’s pleasures to be stuck on a farm for long.”
“Emmett, it’s never too late to become the person you’ve always wanted to be. I’m living proof. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to…well…my Mama had other plans for me, let’s say. It would have been easier, in some ways, to do what I’ve always done. But I didn’t. I took a chance, and I changed my life…and I couldn’t be happier for it.” She smiled, thinking of how lucky she was to be Mrs. Gideon Cartwright. “It’s a long life to spend it lonely, Emmett. And whiskey, cards, and gold won’t hold your hand at the end when your time comes.”
He shifted in his seat, looking away, but saying nothing. Instead, he stood, scraping his chair back, and snatched his hat and coat off the pegs by the back door.
“Much obliged for the supper, Adelaide. I’m going to head into town now. I’ve got something I need to do.”
Before Elinor could stop him, he strode out the front door, just as Gideon was wiping his feet and coming in the back.
Gideon sighed with fatigue as he came in, stuck his hat on a peg, and hung his coat. “Sure is chilly out there.” He looked around the empty kitchen. “Where’s Emmett?”
Elinor pointed toward the front door. “He just left.”
Gideon’s face fell. “He’s going into town, isn’t he? To a saloon?”
“I suspect so.”
“That little devil—he snuck out the front so I wouldn’t stop him. Well, he ain’t that quick getting a saddle on a horse—” he turned to rush out the back door.
“Gideon, stop. Let him go.”
“Why?” he demanded. “You don’t know his history. He’s…he’s learned a lot of bad habits. Someone has to stop him.”
“He needs to stop himself. He’s a grown man, now. If you try to stop him, he’ll likely go anyway, and drink more because of your interference.”
“You’re blaming me?” Gideon leaned back against the door, crossing his arms, as if waiting for the row he knew would follow.
Elinor got up from her chair and walked over to him, gently placing her hands on one of his flexed, tense forearms. “No, my darling. You’ve done everything you could for him. Now he needs to make his own way—choose his own way. You and your Ma, you brought him up well. He knows what he needs to do—I can tell. He’s just fighting it. Someday he’ll have a reason to stop fighting it, and give in to his better nature. Until then, all you can do is pray for him, and continue setting the fine example you always have.”
Gideon’s shoulders relaxed a little. “As if he’d even notice.”
“Oh, he already has.”
Gideon raised his eyebrows. “He said that?”
Elinor chose her words carefully, remembering how Emmett had expressly asked her not to tell her husband. “Just…trust me. I can tell. He admires you. He looks up to you. It’s written all over his face. Just give him time, dear.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him, and the last of his resentment melted away as he wrapped his arms around her.
“How did I get to be so lucky?” he murmured, stroking the hair back from her face.
“That’s funny,” she smiled. “I’ve been asking the same question of myself all evening.” She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat pick up speed as he held her close, and she reveled in the warmth of him.
His body tensed a bit as the sound of galloping hoof beats passed the house, then faded into the distance.
Elinor hoped she had done the right thing, advising Gideon to let Emmett go. Her husband had lost too much already.
Chapter 23
Gideon was eager to curl up bed with his wife and spend a few moments alone before he fell into a deep slumber. Every muscle ached from the long day of work, and he could still feel the tension in his shoulders that had settled in when Emmett rode off toward town.
Adelaide rolled toward him, nestling into the crook of his arm, and he tucked the blankets around them to keep out drafts.
“Will you tell me now?” she asked.
“Tell you what?”
“About your Pa. You told me last night that you’d tell me later, and you never did. What happened with your Pa? Why are you so angry with him?”
His shoulders tightened, and his neck began to ache. Why couldn’t a man just rest at the end of a long, hard day? He sighed, rolling to his back and looking up at the ceiling in the darkness. “What difference does it make?”
“Gideon, we’re married. And whatever happened, it seems to be affecting your r
elationship with your brother. Don’t you think I should know?”
“Me and Emmett are just fine.”
“Really? That’s why you were so concerned when he left here? You’re worried he’ll turn out like your father. Meaning what—that he’ll run off to his claim, to stay, and stop contacting his family?”
Gideon shot up in bed, pulling his arm from behind her head. He looked at her in the dark. Her face was bathed in shadows, but he saw her chest rising and falling rapidly. “What do you know about it? Have you been talking to Emmett? What right have you, to stick your nose in, where it doesn’t belong?”
She sat up, a shaft of dim moonlight caressing her cheek, revealing her irritation. “I don’t have the right to ask anything about your family? Even though your family is now my family?”
He could hear the tremor in her voice, and berated himself for his quick temper. It wasn’t Adelaide he was angry at—it was his Pa. As usual, even from the grave, his father could ruin his life. He pulled his knees up to his chest, leaning his elbows on them, and ran both hands through his hair with a sigh. “No, you do. I’m sorry. I just…I hate talking about him.”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. We don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do. You should know what you’ve married into. What did Emmett tell you?”
As she related Emmett’s version of his childhood, he could feel his stomach clench, and he worked hard to keep his fury at bay.
“I can tell he’s hurt,” she finished, “because your father never came back even for a visit, and because of the pain he caused your mother. It’s affected Emmett more than he’s let on, I suspect. So I don’t think you need to worry about him following in your father’s footsteps and abandoning his family. In fact, he told me the pain your father caused is the very reason he’s not marrying—he doesn’t want to inflict that kind of pain on others. He won’t even consider marrying unless he’s made his fortune.”
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