by Debby Lee
Maggie shook her head. “So this is all about money?”
“Also, about pride,” Agnes confided.
“Apparently, long ago,” Esther continued, “Ben was set to marry a woman with high standards. Her father encouraged him to work for his bank. After three months, Ben decided working inside was not for him and told his intended bride about his dream to build his own horse ranch. Well, the young lady would have none of that and broke off the engagement saying she didn’t think he could provide her with the kind of life she deserved.”
“How awful!” Maggie exclaimed. “But I don’t need his money. Even though my earnings have been less, I’m still making enough to support my needs.”
“The man doesn’t think a wife should have to work,” Agnes stated, her voice dry.
“So, he does not want me to make money,” Maggie said slowly, “but neither will he propose until he thinks that he has enough to support me? That is ridiculous.”
“It’s proper etiquette,” her mother chimed in. “Although I think by now, we all agree that in these times, in this place, it is sometimes best to lay those rules aside.”
“Absolutely,” Maggie agreed. “And the very next time I see Mr. Freethy, I will be sure to tell him so.”
Ben pounded on the door of Maggie’s shop, the midmorning summer heat already gathering sweat upon his brow. After his second set of knocks she finally let him in, and his heart sank as his gaze swept the vacant interior.
“Have you seen him?” he demanded.
Maggie frowned. “Seen who?”
“Phillip! He’s gone.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean, gone?”
Ben shook his head. “I woke up this morning and he wasn’t there. I’ve already searched the entire camp and run down to the river twice. I can’t find him anywhere.”
“That does not sound like Phillip. Have you given him any reason to run off?”
“We did quarrel last night,” Ben admitted. “I told him I didn’t think I will have the money to buy the horse ranch by the deadline on Saturday, and he said the only reason he wanted a horse was so that he could ride back to Boston.”
“Have you checked the corral?” Maggie asked, hurrying toward the door. “Is the postmaster’s horse missing?”
Ben followed her. “I didn’t see it in the corral, but I thought today is Tom Green’s day to ride into Sacramento on the mail route.”
She bit her lip, her face filled with worry. “We better check and see.”
The postmaster was furious when they arrived. Shaking his fist at them, Tom Green shouted, “Today is not lesson day! I have a mail route to run and no ride!”
Ben winced. “When did you discover the horse missing?”
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Tom replied. “At first I thought he got loose from the corral. Sometimes coyotes scare up the animals and get them all panicky. But then I heard from Samuel that your boy was missing. That’s when I thought to check the tack and discovered the bridle and saddle are gone too.”
“Which way would he have gone?” Maggie pleaded.
Desperation edged her voice, and Ben was comforted in the fact that she cared about his nephew as much as he did. If anything were to happen to Phillip—
Ben swallowed hard. “He could have taken any number of paths through the woods.”
“He didn’t.” Samuel ran toward them, one arm still in a sling and his other holding a straw hat with the initials P.T. embroidered along the side in black thread. Maggie’s work, of course.
“Where did you find his hat?” Ben asked. His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest he feared he might miss the answer and strained his ears to listen.
“On the main road.”
Ben nodded. “I’ll get the mules and hitch up the wagon.”
He had just unlatched the corral gate when Maggie rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Ben, look!”
He heard the fast-paced clip-clopping of feet and spun around to see the postmaster’s chestnut gelding return to camp—unaccompanied.
The reins were dangling loosely over the animal’s left side, and the saddle upon its back sat slightly askew. Had Phillip fallen? Or been bucked off?
Tom grabbed hold of the reins and brought his horse to a stop. The animal was sweaty and breathing hard, letting them know he’d been running. He also delivered a few snorts and tossed his head as if to warn them he would not have anyone ride him again any time soon.
“Dear God,” Maggie prayed, sinking to her knees. “Please let Phillip be all right.”
Ben prayed silently along with her, his guilt gnawing at him. None of this would have happened if he’d been a better uncle to the boy. He finally turned and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find him. I won’t return until I do.”
Samuel nodded. “I’m going with you.”
Ben had the mules hitched to the wagon in less than ten minutes, and Maggie followed them as far as the camp entrance. Tom said he’d give his horse a short rest, then he too would set out to look for the boy.
However, it didn’t take that long. Ben had only driven about fifty feet when another wagon came into view. A large man with black hair, a mustache, and beard sat on the bench seat in front, driving his team of mules, with a fair-haired woman beside him. And crouched in the back, looking over their shoulders, were two boys. One who resembled the man in front of him, and the other—Ben’s own nephew, Phillip!
A surge of relief flooded Ben as he tossed Samuel the reins to his mules and jumped down from his wagon to greet them.
“I think I found someone you might be looking for,” the dark-haired man said with a grin. “My name’s George Galloway. This here is my wife, Sarah, and my son, Arthur. We were on our way to Gold Bar when we found the lad walking down the road.”
“A snake spooked the horse and I got thrown into the bushes,” Phillip said, climbing off the other family’s wagon.
Ben put his arm around his nephew’s shoulders and went to hug him, but Phillip pulled away. Apparently, still angry with him.
“Thank you for bringing him home,” Ben said, thankful the boy was safe, and shook George Galloway’s hand. “I’m Benjamin Freethy. Are you just passing through?”
“No, we’re here to stay,” Galloway told him. “Thought we’d make this place our new home.”
Ben gave him a nod. “Welcome to Gold Bar.”
Galloway grinned, then looked past him, and Ben turned to see Maggie racing up the road, lifting her skirts high as she ran.
“Phillip!”
His nephew took off toward her, meeting her halfway. They flung their arms around each other, and Ben wasn’t sure who started crying first, Phillip or Maggie.
“I was so scared!” Maggie exclaimed.
“I’m sorry,” Phillip sobbed, hugging her around her middle. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why did ye do it?” she cried, her accent heavy with emotion. “Why did ye run away like ye did?”
“Uncle Ben said he couldn’t buy the horse ranch and that we were moving away to San Francisco and I didn’t want to go! I thought I could hide in the woods until he was gone and then come back and live with you.”
Ben’s stomach knotted, then just about dropped down to his boots when Maggie turned toward him.
She gave him a startled look. “You’re leaving?”
Chapter 8
Maggie could barely contain her fury as Ben walked toward her, bridging the distance between them. “Phillip.” She dropped her arms away from the boy. “Let me have a word alone with your uncle.”
Phillip nodded, his eyes filled with hope. Likely he thought she could fix the situation, convince Ben to stay in Gold Bar. Since Ben had not informed her of his plan to leave, she did not know if anything she said would make a difference, yet she had to try. Not only for Phillip’s sake, but because her own heart demanded it.
As Ben drew closer, she saw the hard set of his jaw, clearly indicating his reluctance to speak to her. She gestured fo
r him to follow her back to the camp entrance where they might have a little more privacy, and then she turned and repeated, “You’re leaving?”
“I thought it might be best.”
“Best for whom?”
He shook his head. “I can’t raise a kid in this environment.”
“Why not?” she challenged. “You can see for yourself—Phillip doesn’t want to leave.”
“He’s my responsibility,” Ben said, his voice unusually gruff. “He needs a roof over his head, a home. I can’t have him living in a tent. And without any hope of building a horse ranch or seeing justice in this town—” He gave her a direct look. “I decided that Phillip and I should move to San Francisco where I can get a job with reliable wages and Phillip can go to school.”
Maggie pursed her lips, trying her best to hold back a new wave of tears. “So that’s it, then? You’ve already made up your mind to go—just the two of ye?”
“Yes.”
“I—I don’t understand,” Maggie said, her voice waffling. “I thought ye might—care for me, and—”
She shook her head, unable to finish, unable to say what was really in her heart.
A swift look of pain entered Ben’s gaze, and the Adam’s apple in his throat dipped, then he looked away to stare down at his boots. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Miss McDermott. However, it has never been my intention to give you false hope. A man should be able to properly provide for his family, and at this point in my life, I am not in a position to seek a wife.”
Now she was Miss McDermott? Maggie’s heart ached. “What of love?” she asked. “What if a woman does not need your financial support but has money of her own to help with the finances?”
“A man should be able to provide for his family,” Ben repeated, then gave her an apologetic glance. “If you’re looking for a proposal, I’d suggest you accept the offer of another.”
“Marry someone else?” she choked out.
She wanted him to look at her, to see how much she cared, how much she only wanted him, and for him to change his mind and beg her to come with him. Instead, the infuriating man clenched his jaw and kept his gaze averted.
“You must do whatever you think is best for yourself,” he said softly.
Holding back tears, she asked, “When will you be going?”
“First thing in the morning.”
Her stomach constricted and the back of her throat ached, but she wouldn’t let him see how much he’d hurt her. Wouldn’t let him see her cry.
“I’ll want to say goodbye to Phillip,” she said, her chest tight. “Give him the saddle blanket I made for the horse he might buy one day. And encourage him to write me from time to time. With your permission, of course.”
Ben nodded, not saying a word, and his Adam’s apple dipped a second time. Would she ever see them again? Would she ever find the kind of happiness that lasts?
“Goodbye, Mr. Freethy.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. Unable to stand there another second, she turned, her eyes burning, and as fast as her feet would carry her, she walked away.
While Maggie and Phillip spent the afternoon together and finished saying their goodbyes, Ben went down to the river with the other men to try his luck panning for gold one last time. As if by some miracle he might find enough gold to change his fate.
He dug with his shovel, sifted, and searched through the river rock time and time again, and … nothing.
Beside him, Samuel scratched his beard and let out a grunt. “Gold Bar won’t be the same without you.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll still have Hugh.”
Samuel grimaced. “You know he’s probably the one who stole your gold, just like the tailor said. If you stood up to him, instead of walking away—”
Ben frowned. “You think me a coward?”
“You might put Hugh in his place for once.”
“What would you have me do?” Ben demanded. “Shake the gold out of him? Then what?”
Samuel gave him a hard look. “I know how much money you have saved in the bank. You might not have enough to buy the land for your horse ranch, but it is enough for you to take a wife.”
“I’m not having that conversation again,” Ben warned.
“You keep insisting you need more money, but when will it ever be enough?”
Ben narrowed his gaze. “Did Esther put you up to this?”
Samuel shook his head. “No. I just hate to see you throwing away something you shouldn’t because you think you need more than you’ve already got.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I won’t propose without more gold,” Ben insisted.
“Good to hear,” Kendrick said, coming up beside them. “Because I plan to have a ring on Miss McDermott’s finger by nightfall.”
Ben’s pulse raced and heat surged into the base of his neck as he thought of Maggie accepting Kendrick’s proposal. The very idea sickened his stomach.
“Bet you wish you found a nugget like this today,” Kendrick said, holding out the shiny coppery rock in his hand. “Except you don’t have what it takes to go where the real gold lies.”
Ben’s jaw clenched as he thought of the nugget that had been stolen from him and the extra two hundred dollars he still needed to purchase the land for his horse ranch—and propose to Maggie.
Willis Cogsgrove and another miner, a Spaniard whom Ben knew as Domingo, came down the trail to the water’s edge and gestured toward Samuel.
“You ready?” Cogsgrove asked, expectantly.
Ben frowned. “Ready for what?”
Samuel nodded toward the river cave where he’d injured his arm nine days before. “There’s gold in that cave, Ben. And we’re going in. Join us, and we’ll divide the profits.”
Ben hesitated, met Kendrick’s mocking gaze, then with thoughts of claiming Maggie as his own pushing him forward, he grabbed his pickax and followed the others into the river cave’s darkened mouth.
He doesn’t want me. Hot tears streamed down Maggie’s cheeks, and her stomach ached from the overbearing weight of her sorrow as she thought of her confrontation with Ben a few hours earlier. She couldn’t imagine living in Gold Bar without him, yet despite her protests, the fact remained that he was leaving, and taking his nephew along with him.
She sat on the window seat of the bakery beside Phillip and hugged him tight. How fond she had grown of this boy! She’d enjoyed tutoring him in the afternoons while she stitched. It was going to be hard to see him go. Releasing him, she gulped back a sob. Why was this happening? Wasn’t it God’s plan for her to care for this boy who so desperately needed a mother?
She’d been wrong before.
Like when she thought she was coming to Gold Bar to marry Lewis Parnell. And the time she thought her beau in New York would propose, only to have him leave and marry another, saying she was too ambitious. He’d wanted a more docile woman for a wife. Someone who would never dream of running her own business.
Did Ben think she was too ambitious? Twice, he’d said “a good man always provides for his family.” Was he afraid he wouldn’t be considered a good man if he allowed her to help with the finances? Wasn’t there anything she could do to change his mind?
Once her mother married Dr. Harrington, Maggie would be living in the back quarters of her shop … alone. Sure, she’d be able to support herself, but she doubted she’d find joy in her success if she had no one to share it with.
The door to the bakery opened with a jingle, and as a slender, blond woman and equally fair-haired young boy stepped over the threshold, Esther bustled out from around the counter. “Maggie, have you met Sarah Galloway and her son, Arthur?”
“From a distance,” Maggie said, and stood up to properly greet them. “I’m Maggie McDermott, and of course, you’ve already made Phillip’s acquaintance when you brought him back to camp in your wagon this morning.”
Sarah nodded and smiled. “He looks like you. You have similar smiles.”
Did they? Maggie
glanced at Phillip, and he looked up at her and grinned. Although not related, perhaps their smiles appeared similar because they were always so happy to see each other.
“I’ve given the Galloways your old room in the back of the hotel,” Esther informed her. “Until they can build their own house here in Gold Bar.”
Sarah nodded. “I wish my husband would have taken more time to help us get settled in, but he was anxious to go down to the river to meet the other men and pan for gold.”
“They’ve all got gold fever,” Esther declared. “Finding gold quickly turns into an obsession as they hope to strike it rich and live a life of ease.”
“My uncle and I found gold once,” Phillip chimed in, and walked over to the other boy, who was almost his same height. “Can I take Arthur down to the river to watch?”
When Sarah gave her consent and the excited boys raced out of the bakery, Maggie’s heart broke all over again. If Phillip didn’t have to leave Gold Bar, he and this boy might have become good friends.
“I love the pattern of your dress.” Sarah looked admiringly at Maggie’s purple three-tiered skirt and fan-front bodice. “The stitching is beautiful.”
Warmed by the compliment, she confided, “I made it myself.”
“Maggie’s a seamstress,” Esther boasted with pride. “She has her own shop.”
“My sister and her husband have a clothing store in San Francisco,” Sarah told her. “I’m certain they would be very interested in seeing some of your designs. I can give you their name and address if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” Maggie said, and once again questioned God’s plan for her life.
She appreciated the seemingly providential help with her business, but how would she ever be happy without Phillip and Ben?
Ben held up one of the tin candle lanterns Willis Cogsgrove and Domingo had brought with them to light the interior of the cave and scanned the rocks littering the free-flowing stream at their feet.
“I knew you’d come with us eventually,” Samuel said, his voice smug.