More Than Gold

by Nerys Leigh

  ~ ~ ~

  Brutus sauntered from the barn to meet them when they reached home. His eyes fixed immediately on the kitten in Grace’s hand as Gabriel helped her to the ground.

  She held the little fluffball against her protectively. “Will he be all right with R.B.? Does he like cats?”

  “I don’t know as he’s ever seen one.” He rubbed Brutus’ head. “No eating the kitten, Brute. He’s not a snack.”

  She gasped in horror. “Eat him?”

  He chuckled. “I’m just joking.”

  He was, mostly, although he wasn’t entirely sure how Brutus would react to the kitten.

  Ratbane. He hadn’t seen that coming. He would have expected her to name him something like Fluff or Kitty. Not Ratbane. She continued to surprise him. He liked that.

  He also liked how she’d wrapped her arm around his and rested her head against his shoulder for much of the journey home. He’d liked that a lot.

  He followed her into the house, Brutus trotting along after them.

  She looked at the tiny kitten in her arms then at the massive dog gazing up at him in fascination. “I’m scared.”

  Gabriel pulled out a chair from beneath the kitchen table and turned it round. “How about you sit here with R.B. on your lap and I’ll stand right here beside you so I can pull Brutus away if he tries anything? Although I’m sure he won’t.”

  She released a small sigh and nodded. Brutus followed her to the chair like a magnet, wagging his tail when she sat.

  She held the kitten tight against her chest with one hand, reaching out the other to stroke Brutus. “You have to be gentle with him, understand? He’s only little.”

  Brutus wagged his tail harder, his eyes fixed on R.B.

  Gabriel braced himself in case he had to pull the huge dog away, although he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to if Brutus decided he really wanted to do something. When it came down to it, he was well aware that his dog was stronger than he was.

  Her brow furrowed, Grace hesitantly placed the kitten in her lap. R.B. arched his back and hissed at Brutus, impressing Gabriel no end. The little thing was a fighter.

  Brutus reached his nose towards the kitten smaller than his head. R.B. hissed again and he jerked back, his tail stilling. Then he stretched forward again.

  Gabriel held his breath.

  And then Brutus sat down, his tail swishing slowly back and forth across the floor. R.B. watched him for a while and then, having apparently decided it was safe, walked forward on Grace’s lap. He touched his tiny nose to Brutus’ huge one then rubbed his face around his muzzle.

  Grace raised her eyes to Gabriel and smiled in a way that made his heart thump. “I think they like each other.”

  “Yup.”

  He couldn’t fathom why it should make him so happy to see her happy. Was this what being a husband meant?

  He’d thought it was all about having a woman to cook and clean and warm his bed, but he was beginning to understand it was so much more than that. It was friendship and support and conversation and, alien as it was to him, having another person’s happiness mean more to him than his own.

  All in all, he liked the reality better than his misconceptions.

  Chapter 12

  Grace jolted awake, her heart thumping. The knock on the door that had startled her from sleep sounded again.

  Brutus scrambled to his feet, dislodging R.B. who had been curled up between his paws, and trotted to the door. He wagged his tail when he sniffed at the bottom.

  She sat up and reached for her robe. “Just a moment.”

  When she opened the door, Gabriel was outside, one hand gripping the doorframe, his head down and shoulders hunched. The moon cast highlights over his disheveled hair.

  Chest heaving as if he’d been running, he raised haggard eyes. “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “My tobacco!” She flinched at his raised voice and he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just need my tobacco.”

  “But you’ve been doing so well.”

  He let go of the frame and smacked his hand into the wall beside the door. “I haven’t been doing well! It’s killing me! Just tell me where it is.”

  She’d seen him angry before, but this was different. There was a desperation about him this time she’d never seen.

  “Come in.”

  She guided him to one of the chairs then lit two lamps, placing one beside him and the other on the table. Then she lit the stove.

  “What are you doing?” he said, watching her.

  “I’m making what my mama used to make to help my daddy sleep when he was going through the cravings you’re feeling.”

  She poured the milk left over from supper into a saucepan, covered it with a lid, and set it on one of the hot plates. Then she pulled the second chair in close to him and sat.

  Brutus lifted his head from where it rested on Gabriel’s knee and returned to his rug by the warming stove. R.B. snuggled back into his side.

  “Are you going to give me my tobacco?”

  “If you truly want me to, yes. But not right away.”

  His hands fisted in his lap. “You don’t want to be with me right now. I don’t know if I can hold my temper.”

  She reached out and wrapped both hands around his. “I trust you.”

  Even though they’d only known each other for a week, she was absolutely certain he wasn’t a violent man. If he had been, she knew he wouldn’t still be sleeping in the barn.

  He stared at her fingers resting on his. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

  “I think I should.” She raised one hand to his face, touching his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. I know you can do this. I know you’re strong enough. You just have to hold on. It’ll get better soon. Just a few more days.”

  He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before lowering his gaze. “I’m not strong enough. You have too much faith in me.”

  “Maybe you don’t have enough in yourself.”

  He shook his head, pulling his hands from her grasp. “I can’t do it. I need that tobacco.”

  She studied her husband, silently praying for wisdom. Wishing she could take his suffering on herself, even if just for a little while.

  An idea came to her. “Give me half an hour. If you still want the tobacco after that, I’ll give it to you.”

  Rocking forwards, he rested his head in his hands and groaned. “Can’t you just give it to me now?”

  “No. I’m not letting you give up without a fight.”

  He raised his head, his eyes flashing with anger. “I have been fighting! I’ve been fighting all day, every day.”

  “Then let me fight with you.”

  Flopping back in the chair, he looked up at the ceiling. “Half an hour? You promise?”

  “Half an hour.” She didn’t know how she’d do it, but she had to try.

  He released a long breath. “What do you want me to do?”

  Relieved, she rose to check on the milk heating on the stove. “First, you drink my mother’s famous, in our house at least, warm milk with honey and cinnamon. Then we’ll talk. You need to do something, to take your mind off the tobacco.”

  His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “I don’t think that’s possible, even for you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She glanced at him to find him watching her with such intensity it made her breath hitch.

  “I’m not sure as there’s another woman on earth who could have got my tobacco away from me.”

  “Is that good or bad?” She said it lightly, as if she was joking, but she held her breath for the answer.

  His mouth turned up in a small smile. “Ask me in half an hour.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Gabriel woke with a crick in his neck and a stiff back. Still drifting in the hazy fog of sleep, he was confused as to why, until he realized he was sitting in a chair, a blanket tucked over him.

  He looked at the bed where Grace was fast asleep, the covers
pulled up under her chin and her hair curling around her shoulders, partially covering her face. Memories of the previous night returned, of the desperate need for tobacco that had driven him to the house, and the way she had calmed him, simply by being there.

  They’d talked for well over an hour and it had worked. He couldn’t remember falling asleep. It must have been her who had put the blanket over him. She’d brought him back from the edge and he was glad of it. Only Grace could have done that.

  He found himself smiling, despite his discomfort at having slept in the chair all night. If someone had told him that getting married would require him to give up not only his bed and, to all intents and purposes, his house, but also his tobacco, he’d have abandoned the idea and stayed single for the rest of his life. If they’d then told him he would have been happy anyway, he’d have thought them insane. But he’d have been wrong.

  Marrying Grace felt like the best thing he’d ever done. Admittedly, his life thus far hadn’t been filled with inspired decisions, but she was the shining exception in a sea of ineptitude.

  He rose with a grimace, pressed both hands to his back, and stretched with a yawn.

  He quashed an overwhelming urge to go to the bed and brush the hair from her face and kiss her cheek. No telling what she’d do if she was roused from sleep that way. He didn’t want to experience another of her punches.

  So he leaned down to rub Brutus’ back, touched the top of R.B.’s tiny head with a fingertip, and headed outside to start the day.

  Still smiling.

  Chapter 13

  Grace took the buggy into town after Gabriel left for his claim.

  He seemed better this morning, the cravings having eased somewhat, and there was no more talk of her giving him the pouch of tobacco. She praised God for that. She’d spent a long time praying for him after he’d fallen asleep in the chair.

  R.B. had spent the whole night curled contentedly in a ball between Brutus’ paws so she felt confident leaving the two of them alone together. She needed the general store for a few items, most importantly, several tins of spruce gum for Gabriel.

  She left the buggy and Fred outside Lamb’s General Store and walked inside with her basket on her arm.

  “Morning, Mrs. Silversmith,” Mr. Lamb said, smiling at her from where he was restocking shelves of canned goods to her left. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “I think I can manage, thank you.”

  “Well, I’m here whenever you need me.”

  She left him filling the shelves and headed further into the store.

  She’d found out the previous week that the general store was much bigger than it looked from the front. Shelves and tables and piles of all kinds of goods filled the space. She’d loved places like this back in New York. You never knew what you might find.

  She went to the candy display first, not wanting to forget her whole reason for coming into town, and placed six tins of spruce gum into her basket. After a moment’s thought, she added four more. It wouldn’t do to run out. Gabriel was practically living on the stuff.

  Next she wandered over to a table covered in bolts of fabric. She fingered a plain red cotton. She had plenty of clothing of her own, but she’d noticed that Gabriel’s wardrobe was somewhat lacking in variety. With his complexion, the red would look especially good.

  At the sound of voices behind her, she looked round to see three women enter the store.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Vernon,” Mr. Lamb said, “Mrs. Wilson, Mrs. Fielding.”

  The three ladies returned his greeting.

  Grace raised her hand and smiled. She’d met both Mei Wilson and Lucy Fielding already. Mrs. Vernon, however, Grace had yet to encounter.

  “Good morning,” she said as the three women approached.

  “Good morning,” Mei said. “Have you met Mrs. Vernon?”

  “Not yet.” She smiled at the older woman in the fashionable, expensive, slightly too tight lavender dress. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vernon.”

  Mrs. Vernon stepped forward and held out her hand. “You must be the new Mrs. Silversmith. So good to finally meet you. I had hoped to speak to you yesterday in church, but by the time I got away you were gone. When your husband is the town’s foremost citizen, so many people demand your time.”

  Standing behind her, Lucy rolled her eyes. Mei, although clearly trying not to smile, nudged her arm with her elbow. It was all Grace could do to keep from laughing.

  She took Mrs. Vernon’s hand. “I can imagine how much of a burden that must be.”

  “It is, but one I gladly bear, for the sake of the town.” Mrs. Vernon fairly glowed with magnanimity. “I must say, it was good of you to come and marry Mr. Silversmith. Most women wouldn’t have, given what happened with his first...”

  “Mrs. Vernon,” Mei interrupted loudly, “have you seen the new curtain fabric Mr. Lamb has in? It’s stunning. Don’t you think it would be perfect for your parlor?”

  Mrs. Vernon glanced at her and frowned. “I’ll take a look in a moment.” She turned back to Grace. “Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Mr. Silversmith’s first wife. So shocking what happened with her.”

  Grace’s stomach plunged to her feet. First wife?

  Mei gave her a look of sympathy and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “Uh, yes,” Grace said to Mrs. Vernon, forcing a smile.

  Gabriel had married someone before her? Why hadn’t he told her?

  “It’s so very understanding of you to overlook the whole episode,” Mrs. Vernon went on.

  “Well, I believe everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you?” Grace’s mind was spinning. Who was this other woman? Was she still in Green Hill Creek? What had happened to her?

  “Of course,” Mrs. Vernon said. “You’re so right. We must forgive, as it says in the good Book.”

  She nodded vaguely. “Yes. Um, would you excuse me? I have so much to do in town before I return home.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Mrs. Vernon smiled as if she hadn’t just sent Grace’s whole world into a spin. “It was lovely to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  As Mrs. Vernon turned away to look at the curtain fabric Mei was drawing to her attention, Lucy grabbed Grace’s arm and led her away.

  “You didn’t know, did you?” she said in a low voice when they were out of earshot of the other two women.

  Grace shook her head. She felt like such a fool, but there was no point in lying. She liked Lucy. “Who was she?”

  “Her name’s Josephine Carter, although she’s Mrs. Josephine Parsons now.”

  Parsons. “As in George Parsons, who owns the livery?”

  “She’s married to his son.”

  So Amy must have known. Of course she knew. Everyone knew. No wonder Gabriel had gone into a panic when he’d learned they’d met.

  “Do Mr. and Mrs. Parsons live in town?”

  Lucy nodded.

  Grace took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to remain in ignorance, but she had to know what had happened, even though the prospect frightened her.

  “Where?”

  ~ ~ ~

  The instructions Lucy provided took Grace to a small house some way from Green Hill Creek’s main street. She walked up to the door, raised a hand to knock, then lowered it.

  What if she learned something terrible about Gabriel? What if this woman still felt something for him? What if he still felt something for her?

  Sighing, she raised her hand again, knocking before what little courage she had left deserted her completely.

  The moment the door opened, her heart sank.

  “Good afternoon,” the woman at the door said. “May I help you?”

  “Are you Mrs. Josephine Parsons?” she said, hoping against hope that the beautiful, slender woman with the shiny light brown hair and sparkling amber eyes wasn’t her husband’s first wife.

  The woman smiled. “I am. And you are...?”

  Grace’s shoulders slumped. “Mrs. Grace Silversmit
h.”

  The smile slid from Mrs. Parsons’ face. “Oh.”

  Why couldn’t the first woman Gabriel married have been ugly? How could Grace ever hope to compete with the vision before her? She must have been such a disappointment when he first saw her.

  “Would you like to come in?” Mrs. Parsons said.

  If she was honest, she wouldn’t. She wanted to leave and forget she’d ever seen the erstwhile Mrs. Josephine Silversmith. But she couldn’t very well go now. It would be rude.

  “Thank you.”

  She stepped inside and Mrs. Parsons closed the door behind her.

  “May I offer you something to drink?”

  She swallowed against her suddenly dry mouth. “I’d appreciate a glass of water, thank you, Mrs. Parsons.”

  “Please, call me Jo. We’ve both been married to the same man. I think we should at least be on first name terms.”

  It had a certain strange logic to it.

  “You’re right. And please call me Grace.”

  As Jo disappeared through a door at the back of the room, Grace looked around. It was a small but comfortable room, with blue curtains at the window and matching cushions on the settee. A vase of butterfly mariposa lilies sat in the center of a small dining table draped with a lace tablecloth.

  Her eyes were drawn to an extraordinary painting hanging on the wall, a red haired man astride a gray horse rearing against a blazing sunset. She’d never seen anything quite so dynamic.

  “My husband, Zach,” Jo said, walking back into the room. “I painted it for him as a wedding gift.”

  The portrait oozed vitality and heroism. If that was how she saw her new husband, she surely didn’t have any residual feelings for her old one. Did she?

  “You’re very talented,” Grace said. “It’s a wonderful painting.”

  Jo placed two glasses of water and a plate of cookies onto the table and pulled out two chairs. “Thank you for saying so. I know it’s a bit unconventional, but he likes it, and that’s what matters the most.”

  Grace joined her at the table and took a long drink from her glass, stalling for time. Now she was here, she wasn’t sure what to say. She’d really just wanted to see the woman Gabriel had chosen over her. What on earth did you say in such circumstances? She had plenty of questions, but none of them seemed appropriate to ask of someone she didn’t know.