CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (31 page)

             
He groaned at another thrust of the needle. A muscle twitched in his jaw
, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrest
.

             
No longer able to lie idly back, Charity tossed aside her blanket and made her way to his side. She slipped her hand into his, and squeezed.

             
Mabel nodded and winked before pulling another stitch, then knotting the thread. She bent close and bit through the thread, before straightening. “There. Four stitches, Gabriel. Thank the good Lord, you’ve a hard head
,
for sure.”

             
“I’m more for thanking the Lord for a stubborn wife.” He returned Charity’s squeeze and opened his eyes. “If not for her continuous disobeying
of
my orders, I wouldn’t be here.”

             
“Some orders are not meant to be followed.” Charity stood and moved to the sink. “If you’ll go to your bed, I’ll have my turn to wash, thank you.” His bed. Gracious! She’d been lying in it.

She leaned against the counter. Surely he placed her there. She hadn’t gone of her own accord, had she? What must he think of her?

Taking a deep breath, she turned to lift a kettle of water from the stove and poured it into the wash basin. A sponge bath would have to suffice for now. Tomorrow, she’d lug water for a leisurely soak when Gabriel was away from the house.

“Let me help you.” Mabel held out a rag. “You’re a hero, I’ve heard.”

“You would have done the same
for Hiram
.” Charity glanced behind them to see Gabe stretched out on his bed and pulling the curtain across to shield him.

Mabel shook her head. “I’m not so sure.” She dipped the rag into the water, then dabbed at Charity’s face. “I was at a complete loss when I thought Hiram was gone. A hysterical mess.”

“You were distraught.”

“That I was.” She dunked the rag again. “What happened out there? You both look like death warmed over.”

Charity swallowed against the tears clogging her throat. “We had stopped for the night. When we woke, we were the captives of a
small
band of Indians.” She dropped onto the bench beside the table. “They tied us up. I don’t know where they were taking us. I escaped and hid until they passed out drunk.
I thought
Gabrie
l was dead
. O
h, Mabel, they beat him so.”
She took a deep breath. “Thinking he was dead, I was intent on saving his horse. When I discovered I wasn’t a widow, I freed him, and here we are.”

Mabel sat down next to her. “That’s some tale. What happened to the girl?”

“I don’t know.” Charity propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Funny thing is, they didn’t seem all that determined to pursue me. They were more focused on Gabriel.”

“Do you think they were following you with the intentions of capture?” Mabel’s eyes widened.
“As if they were following you from the beginning?”

“I think so.” Charity lowered her voice. “I intend to keep a close watch on my husband, and a gun at hand. Sam promised to teach me to shoot, and I plan to start right away.”

“Why don’t you ask Gab
e
to teach you?”

“Ha. He wouldn’t want me in harm’s way. But sometimes, his heavy-handed ways of protecting me are more dangerous.” Charity went back to the sink and began washing her arms.
If she
had
known how to shoot, she could have picked the Indians off one
by
one while she hid in the bushes.

Could she actually shoot someone? If they meant harm to her family,
she
definitely
could
.

She planted both hands on the counter and hung her head. Exhaustion warred with her
desire
to clean up and care for Gabriel.

“Come here.” Mabel put an arm around her shoulder and turned her toward her cot. “Let me help you undress, and get you tucked in. Hiram and I will bed down by the fire tonight and see how you feel in the morning. Our livestock can last one more night without us.
They’ve plenty of hay and water.
Our milk cow dried up last year.
”

“Bless you, Mabel. You’re a dear friend.” Charity allowed herself to be babied
and enjoyed the feeling. It had been so long since someone tenderly cared for her
. Once she lay on her back, a thick quilt pulled to her chin, her eyes
drifted shut.

She couldn’t help but wish she still la
y
in Gabriel’s bed.

###

             
Stupid savages! Amos yanked
his horse’s
reins. He had hired them to do one simple thing; take care of Gab
e
Williams. Not only did they let him escape
,
but that fiery wife of his, too.
Now, they would be more wary
, and Gabriel and Charity were back at home
.
Sure they looked a little worse for wear, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

             
Amos
hadn’t meant to kill anyone. The death of the Indian maiden could cause problems in the long run.
He
needed to think on a solution to that problem. Who knew she would be picking berries in the woods so close to the Williams
e
s
’s
homestead
, or would be frightened by a little gunfire
?
Where had she come from anyway? Most of the Indians were long gone to their winter campgrounds.

             
He shrugged. Maybe she was part of a hunting party.
He
didn’t believe in killing women. No matter what race they were
and
didn’t much like killing men either, but sometimes a man had to do what he needed in order to get what belonged to him.

             
Hopefully, her people would blame Gabe and not go looking for someone else. The Crow could be violent enough when riled, and he didn’t cotton to an all out war because of an accident.

             
Why couldn’t anything go as planned? He kicked his horse, spurring it faster as sight of
hi
s barn came into view. He had wasted an entire day and night watching the Williams
es
’s homestead. If he wanted something done right, he would have to do it himself
, and he was running out of ideas
.

###

             
Charity stretched. Cold air brushed her bare arms, alerting her to
the crisp dawn
. Sunlight streamed through the window and low murmurs came from the other side of the curtain. She’d overslept
,
resulting in the others doing
her
chores. She grinned. Almost like her first morning beneath this
sod roof.
Except Meg
did
n’t star
e
down at her
today
.

             
Tossing back the quilt, she donned a clean dress, then slid her feet into her boots. Her body protest
ed
.
When she heard Gabriel’s familiar rumble from the direction of the kitchen table, she hurried
, forcing a bounce in
to
her step
that
her body did not feel
.

             
“Good morning.” She
skipped
around the curtain, forcing back a wince at her back’s protest.

             
Gabriel glanced up from his bowl of oatmeal. “You’re chipper this morning. Feeling all right after yesterday?”

             
“Rarely better.” She kept the smile on her face as she fairly skipped to the stove.
Her body hated her for the chipper movement.
Mabel and the children gazed wide-eyed at her, then Mabel’s eyes narrowed. “What?” Charity demanded.

             
“Nothing.” Mabel turned to the sink.

             
Charity figured Mabel saw through her ruse
,
and
they would
hav
e
a conversation about it later. She plopped a heaping spoonful of oatmeal into a bowl and sat at the table. She didn’t want the others to know how much her body ached. How every breath was agony. She couldn’t tell, but if she had a full length mirror she’d guess more than a few bruises painted her skin.

             
Would she do it all again? To save Gabriel or one of the children she would. There would be time for rest and recuperation after she learned to shoot, and
when
Gabriel left the house to work.
She had no broken bones, no stitches. There was no sense in lying around like a ninny whining about her pains. Sure, her feet and back ached from her romp through the woods, she had a scratch on her face that
she didn’t believe would
leave a scar, and she doubted she would ever get the tangles out of her hair, but she’d survived hours inside a dead tree with a multitude of bugs. She could survive anything.

             
She grinned at Gabriel and stuck a spoonful of breakfast in her mouth. He shook his head
, clearly befuddled at her behavior,
and returned his attention to his food.

             
Her smile faded. He looked awful. The black thread of his stitches provided a dark contrast against skin paler than normal. Purple and blue bruises dotted his face like dabs from a paintbrush. A goose egg rose from his temple. He very well could have died the day before. Where would that have left Charity and the children? She definitely needed to keep a closer eye on him.

             
Her hand paused on its upward travel to her mouth. How was it possible she hadn’t thought of gold in days?
Her situation hadn’t changed. There was still the impending annulment. She had six, maybe seven months left to convince Gabriel she was worth keeping around, and if the chill making its way under the door was any indication, winter was fast approaching and gold mining inadvisable.

             
Gabriel stood and grabbed his hat. “I’ll be back by supper.”

             
“Where are you going?” Surely he didn’t intend to follow through on riding to town?

             
“I need to see the sheriff.” He patted Charity’s head as if she were a child. “Don’t worry. Hiram is going with me.
We’ll stop by and tend his stock first.
”

             
She swatted his hand away. The man could turn her mood faster than a striking snake. “As if I’m worried that you’re a fool headed off to do more damage to yourself.”

             
He chuckled. “Stay out of trouble.” After planting kisses on the cheeks of both children, he tossed Charity a wink and left.

             
“That is the most infuriating man.” She carried her bowl to the sink. “A knot on his head the size of Ireland, and he’s bent on riding half a day’s journey into town to report the rowdy behavior of some Indians.
Me dead ma would have clobbered him with a skillet.
”

             
“As if you’re any different.” Mabel shooed the children outside to do their chores. “Pretending everything is fine when every move you make pains you.”

             
“Somebody has to take care of my husband. It’s obvious he is incapable of doing so himself.”

             
“What really has your dander up?” Mabel turned her to face her.

             
Charity took a deep breath. “I’m falling in love with my husband and the thought of losing him is
comparable to
losing a limb.”

             
“Have you told him how you feel?”

             
“Oh, I couldn’t! What if he doesn’t feel the same?” She hung her head. “You saw how he said goodbye. A pat on the head
, as if I were nothing but his wee sister
.” She sniffed against approaching tears. “I’m nothing but a nanny for his children and someone to help him win a bet.”

             
“Oh, I think you’re worth more than that to him.” Mabel grabbed a dishtowel. “Don’t forget. The long winter months are coming. You’ll be thrust together twenty-four hours a day.”

             
And that thought terrified Charity. There would be no way of hiding her insecurities. Her tendency toward snappishness. The real Charity O’Connell would be right in front of Gabriel Williams.

25

             
Gabe regretted his decision to ride
to town by the time he’d made it half
way to Virginia City.
If he
had
taken time to think
things through
,
he would have waited a day or two, instead of heading out like a man
without busted ribs
.