Of Gold & Blood Series 2 Books 1 & 4

by Jenny Wheeler

  She had, of course, not admitted that she no longer had it, that she’d handed it on to Willie Watson for appraisal. Presumably it, like everything else in Willie’s house, had been destroyed in the fire.

  “It’s a big responsibility, deciding what to do,” Willoughby Martens was saying, his voice low and soothing. He had dark curly hair and a full fleshy face which signaled that he relished his pleasures.

  Graysie studied him as he spoke. He was a handsome man—the picture of rose-complexioned male energy—but give him five years… she could already sense he’d be over-blown and burnt out.

  His eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows drew together in sympathy. “I appreciate your difficult situation. I want to ensure you have all the information you need to make the best choice.”

  He cleared his throat. “I thought you should know. There’s been an exciting silver discovery near Nevada City. Shares in silver mines are likely to skyrocket over the next few weeks—and that can only have a negative effect on gold shares like yours. People obviously prefer to go for a ‘sure thing’.”

  He licked his full red lips. “Hector de Vile was saying last night that silver is where investors are looking to buy right now. Some of these Grass Valley properties—like the Ophir and the Ruby, unfortunately—are looking decidedly wobbly. It’s likely their price on the stock exchange will bottom out, but I’m happy to say our interested party is still willing to buy at the price we’ve discussed. But that offer will only hold for another two days. Mrs. Guilliame has already indicated that she will accept.”

  Graysie felt the knot in her stomach tighten with a sharp pang. “She did? When?”

  “When I called on her this morning. Before I came to see you. I think she has realized that if she delays any longer she may miss out altogether. Timing is everything.”

  Martens’s eyes flashed with excitement, and then just as quickly, he suppressed any glint of triumph. He was trying very hard to maintain his air of calm logic, she could see.

  As if reading her thoughts he said, “I just want to make sure your interests are properly safeguarded.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll consider your advice carefully, Mr Martens. And talk to Mrs Guilliame, of course.”

  She saw the look of surprise flicker across his face.

  If this wasn’t a blatant manipulation of share prices, she didn’t know what was. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, everyone knew it happened. But they were doing her a favor really. Making it easier for her to say no. She might be intending to lay low, but that didn’t mean she was just going to give in, and she’d urge Lisette to stand firm as well.

  Fleetingly she wondered what he’d say if he knew she’d gotten hold of Vance’s report. Would he maintain his smooth veneer, or lose his cool and show his true colors? She’d find out soon enough, she thought, but that wasn’t for today. She’d hold her cards close to her chest for a while yet.

  Thirty Six

  Nathan waited in the convent’s entry hall while a young nun went to find Graysie. His stomach felt hollow and he had to suppress the urge to pace up and down the small space as he waited. All the way over he’d been rehearsing what to say, but now he was here he was tongue-tied.

  Gold House felt empty without Minette’s sunny presence, but not seeing Graysie, not knowing how she was faring or what she was doing, was far worse. It ate away at his insides.

  He had tried to counsel himself, repeating over and over again that it was best for both of them if he gave her the space she clearly felt she needed, but Antonio’s revelations of what had happened at Willie Watson’s on the day of the fire compelled him to come.

  He wanted more than anything to explain the whole mess, to get back to the familiar, increasingly affectionate relationship that had been growing between them. But maybe that was too much to expect after he’d messed up so badly.

  At the very least, though, he owed it to her to tell her about Antonio’s trip to Willie’s. Tell her how the poor kid had been terrorized into taking his attackers up there. Antonio had told him he didn’t recognize the men, but Nathan suspected the boy might still be too terrified to identify them. However, he’d given a good account of how events had unfolded. The kid was convinced that Willie had sacrificed himself to ensure Antonio’s escape, and Nathan believed it, but that wasn’t Antonio’s fault.

  It did mean though that Graysie had absolutely no reason to feel guilty for any of it. If all he could do was reassure her that her visit to Willie had nothing to do with the attack, he’d at least feel he’d done something to ease her stress. Not nearly enough, but something.

  His hands felt clammy, and his heart beat abnormally fast. He cursed himself for his stupidity in not telling Graysie about his marriage, about Charlotte’s death. He made pathetic excuses—they’d hardly had a chance, so much had been happening, they hadn’t really had any private time together—but he knew these were just that—excuses.

  He hated talking about it, abhorred being reminded of the inevitability of the tragedy, and he didn’t want to open the can of worms of his wider family relationship with Willoughby Martens. The man was an embezzler and worse. More’s the pity that Charlotte hadn’t wanted to believe he was a thief. He just didn’t think it was appropriate to drag all the family’s dirty linen out.

  Graysie still hadn’t turned up. He couldn’t contain his nervous energy any longer. As he paced to and fro in the small flagstone entry, clasping and unclasping his hands behind his back, he berated himself for not being more candid. His musings were interrupted by the sound of a child’s quick light footsteps on the hard floor, and he spun around just in time for Minette to throw herself into his arms. “Uncle Nat!”

  She took a deep breath and snuggled into his shoulder. “Guess what, Uncle Nat? Sister Evangelina lets me light the chapel candles. Lots of them—lots and lots.”

  He clasped her against his chest, inhaling the lemony fragrance of her curls against his cheek. How he’d missed her effervescence, her ability to always find joy in her surroundings. He heard the light scuff of feet and saw Graysie was standing stiffly in the doorway, her eyes narrowed in dismay.

  She stepped forward and gently took Minette out of his arms. “Minette, darling, it’s not a suitable time for you to be talking to Mr. Russell right now. Why don’t you go and help Sister Evangelina polish the silver?”

  The child’s eyes widened in surprise and she pouted her bottom lip at the unwanted direction, but as Graysie put her down and turned her to the door with a gentle pat on the back, she obeyed with a quiet, “Bye for now, Uncle Nat.”

  Graysie resumed her cool, withdrawn stance, her gaze neutral and level, not speaking. Her loveliness took his breath away. She wore a simply cut pale lemon gown which highlighted her unadorned natural beauty. He cleared his throat to speak, but before he’d uttered a word she drew her shoulders up to her ears in a slow shrug.

  “Nathan, you have to go. This is a convent and the nuns don’t like their guests having a lot of visitors, particularly male visitors. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of Sister Mor.”

  He shook his head and took a step towards her. She immediately stepped back, maintaining her distance.

  “Besides, as I told you, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me.” Her voice cracked.

  “That’s just it, Graysie. You’ve got to listen. The attack on Willie wasn’t your fault. I’ve been talking to Antonio and his mother this morning and there are things you need to know. Antonio was up at Willie’s that day. He led the attackers up there, and he saw what happened. He had no choice—they were threatening to kill his mother. He was terrorized, the poor kid. But I just wanted to assure you—it wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

  Her ramrod posture sagged. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no, poor Antonio. The poor boy.” Her eyebrows contracted, and she smoothed her skirt with one hand, distracted. “How horrible for him. What happened?”

  “A man he says he didn’t know showed up demanding Van
ce’s papers. Threatened to kill Anna unless Antonio showed him where they were. Antonio managed to save his mother by deflecting them to Willie’s. He says Willie had gained the upper hand even though there were three of them involved. He enabled Antonio to break free and yelled at him to run. He says Willie saved his life.”

  Graysie nodded and took a deep breath. “Poor Antonio. And Anna. Is there anything I can do for them?”

  “It’s okay. I’m keeping an eye on them. They’re still very frightened but remarkably resilient. They’ll come through. Perhaps if you just had time to visit—woman to woman—that might help. But try and do it inconspicuously. She’s scared of being seen with anyone who might cause them more problems.”

  There was an awkward pause. Sweet notes from a melodious harpsichord floated from the convent’s heart. A cart rumbled by out front, the nose-tickling smell of new cut hay drifting in through the open doorway as it passed.

  This is me right now, thought Nathan. Immobilized in front of a woman who has reached into my heart like no other, unable to say what I feel.

  He fought to relax his face and jaw.

  “How’s Willie doing?”

  “He’s improved slightly but still not conscious.”

  Another silence. He cleared his throat. “Graysie, I wanted to talk with you about that other matter… Martens and what happened back in Australia.” He shuffled his feet, taking in the bare entry. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  She considered him with the same detached air she’d assumed from the beginning. “Anything that needs to be said can be said here.” She folded her arms in front of her. “I was silly in the way I reacted before—about your marriage. There’s no reason at all for you to mention it. I don’t know what got into me. Can I use the excuse of too much stress?” She gave a little shrug.

  He felt a jolt as if she’d poked him in the ribs, but she stood watching from the doorway, an ironic smile playing across her lips.

  “Can I ask…?” No, he could see he could not ask.

  She gave a quick shake of her head. “Please, let’s not.” Again, her voice cracked almost imperceptibly, as if the detached composure she presented was as fragile as December ice on a roadside puddle.

  “I accept what you say about him—that he’s a scoundrel and quite likely a murderer too. But I’d rather not give him any more reasons to go after you. You say Willie’s injuries aren’t my fault, but if he hadn’t been suspected of having that report he wouldn’t have been in the firing line. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

  As he stood staring at her, she dipped her head and drew her clasped hands down in front of her. “I have to go. Thank you for letting me know about Antonio. It’s a terrible thing but I’m grateful to know.”

  She gave the hint of a mock bow, turned, and in a second had vanished back down the shadowy hallway into the convent’s inner sanctum. Nathan could only stand dumbfounded and look after her.

  Did that really just happen? Did I really for a fleeting moment think I had found someone I could share my life with? After Charlotte, don’t I know better than to believe in second chances?

  The dull ache in his chest mocked his protestations. I came very close, very close, to deciding she could be the one… But I don’t really deserve another chance anyway.

  He turned heavily towards the front door. The bright sunshine was blinding. He stood on the doorstep and squinted to get his bearings. He thought he heard a peal of Minette’s cheeky laughter float out to him. He braced his shoulders.

  Time to call it quits, mate, and remember the reason you came to California in the first place. Your mother and sisters are counting on you.

  Thirty Seven

  Monday, July 13

  Death softened the deep lines that gouged Willie’s cheeks. In life they had made him look serious, even a little severe, but as he lay in his open coffin, he was a genial sun-tanned uncle, just in from the fields, his mouth curved in a ghostly, satisfied smile.

  The old codger almost appeared contented to be set free from this life, Nathan thought as he stood beside Willie’s sister, Rose, in the convent chapel. He’d done nothing to invite his violent end, of that Nathan was sure. Beside him, Rose’s matronly bosom heaved with quiet sobs, and she dabbed a soggy white handkerchief to her eyes, first one side, then the other.

  “You were a good man, Willie. You didn’t deserve this, God rest your soul.” Her whisper barely reached Nathan, but he stepped closer and placed his arm consolingly around her shoulders.

  “You are so right there, Rose. And we’ll do our best to see whoever did this doesn’t go unpunished,” he murmured.

  An image of Antonio’s terrified eyes rose before him. Willie had done everything he could to ensure the boy escaped. Who knew whether his actions had cost him his life. As the last clear notes of the choir faded and Willie’s coffin was carried out, Nathan vowed he was not going to give up tracking down his killers.

  *****

  A huddle of mourners stood blinking at the brightness of the day after the cool shade of the chapel, reluctant to leave the graveside but uncertain of where to go next. Nathan watched as Graysie slipped a comforting arm around Rose, the busy and prosperous manager of a Grass Valley boarding house who had often visited her brother in his forest hideaway.

  Along with Lisette Guilliame, Graysie had stood with Willie’s distraught sister through the service, which Father O’Brien had insisted should be held in the convent chapel even though Willie wasn’t a regular communicant.

  “He was a good man who deserves a sacred farewell,” Rose had whispered to Nathan at the start of the service.

  The last mourner had cast a handful of dusty soil onto Willie’s coffin, but Rose seemed reluctant to move away.

  “He’s gone and deserted me,” she croaked to no one in particular. She lifted her gaze to the small group surrounding her. “First my husband, Stan, and now Willie. I’m going to have to box on without either of them.”

  Graysie put an arm around her, and Nathan was struck by how she managed to impart a sense of serenity and confidence to others even though he could sense she was steeling herself for battle. Tense cords stood out from her slender neck above the light ruffle of her light blue dress.

  He wondered fleetingly how he’d ever thought she was only interested in herself. She didn’t ever make a fuss about it, but she sought out the least fortunate around her to offer support wherever she went.

  Nathan paused in front of Rose. “Willie was a good man.” He leaned in and gave her a light hug. “I recall you wanted to know how Argus is doing. Thought you’d be interested to hear he is recovering remarkably well after a slow start. He’s begun to walk under his own steam, and he should be back to normal within a week or two.”

  A brief smile chased across Rose’s face and she lightly clapped her hands together. “Oh, Mr. Russell, I am so pleased to hear that. You’ve done wonders in bringing that dog back from the brink. Willie so loved him.”

  “Yes, I believe you,” Nathan said. “I was wondering if you would be interested in taking him when he is well enough—probably within the next few days. He’s a good-tempered animal. Doesn’t cause any problems that I can see. I could bring him to visit and see how you liked it?”

  Rose’s shoulders lifted and she smiled again. “I’d like that very much. Now I suppose I’d better be getting on.”

  She turned to make her way up the street, and Graysie shadowed her movement, intent it seemed, on walking with her.

  Nathan stepped forward quickly. “Graysie, have you got a moment? I was hoping for a word.”

  Graysie stopped and turned slowly. “I’m not sure…”

  Rose smiled and extended her hands forward in a freeing gesture. “I will be just fine my dear. I have plenty to do at the boarding house, don’t you worry. And the thought of having Argus come and stay has quite made my day. Willie wouldn’t want us brooding.” She kissed Graysie on the cheek and walked on.

  Graysie regarded
him, head tilted to one side, a hesitant look in her eyes.

  “I… I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Nathan fiddled with his collar, searching for more air.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to block out something she did not want to see. When she re-opened them, her jaw was set in a determined line. “I’m just fine. Thanks for asking, Nathan. Of course I’m very sad about Willie. Quietly devastated. It changes everything.”

  “Changes everything? I’m not sure I understand.”

  “It’s like the passing of the guard, isn’t it? First Vance, and now Willie. Like the generation of the old style prospectors who knew every rock and gulch has now passed on. If I’d had any idea when I came here… Well, I’m not sure I would have come at all if I’d foreseen the outcome.”

  She fiddled with her parasol and, after a moment’s hesitation, put it up. “So hot already today.” She paused as if she’d forgotten what she was about to say next and then cleared her throat.

  “I know you have explained about Antonio and have tried to reassure me that I wasn’t responsible for what’s happened, but I am still shocked. When school breaks for the holidays in a few days I’m going to Sacramento with Pania for a season at the Orleans.

  “Harry has put together a package for us that was really too good to turn down. It’ll give me a chance to think. Maybe give time for things to quiet down here. I know you never thought it was a good idea for me to pursue the mine idea anyway.” She gave him a wry, humorless smile.

  Nathan felt the urge to protest that he’d changed his view, that he admired her ability to remain calm and resolute under attack, that he didn’t want her to leave, for goodness sakes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she jumped in ahead of him.

  “I’ve enjoyed knowing you, Nathan, I truly have.” Her voice trailed away. “And you know Minette adores you.” She cast her eyes downward, as if reluctant to meet his gaze. “But it seems life is taking us in different directions, and it’s best if she doesn’t get any more attached to you than she already is.” She gave him a quick smile.