CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (33 page)

             
“No one is saying otherwise,” Hiram
said
. “Mabel knows how to shoot and often brings home a squirrel or two.
Makes things easier on me.
”

             
“That’s right, Gabe. Especially when a rabbit or something gets into my garden.” Mabel nodded.
“Then I’m more than happy to take care of the situation and not have to wait on Hiram.”

             
“That isn’t why Charity wants to learn.”

             
“It isn’t?” Charity’s spoon paused half-way to her mouth.

             
Gab
riel
shook his head. “Nope. You think you need to learn how to shoot in order to protect this family. You saved me from the Indians, and now, I’m incapable of keeping the rest of you from harm.”

             
Charity took a deep breath and rested the utensil on her plate.
It was a good thing they had company because it kept her from loosing her tongue on her mulish husband.
“You must be in pain, Gabriel, because you are speaking nonsense.”

             
Mabel’s eyes widened, and she ducked her head. Hiram cleared his throat and ate
as if someone were going to steal his supper
.

             
“Nonsense!”
Gabriel
shoved to his feet.

             
Charity did the same. “Yes. If I had listened to you yesterday, you would be dead right now.” She spoke each word distinctly, with special emphasis on dead. “There is nothing wrong with a woman knowing how to shoot or any other
supposed
‘manly’ type pursuits.” She lifted her chin.
“I intend to teach Meg to be self-sufficient, also.”

             
“My wife will be submissive.”

             
“My husband will be objective.”

             
Charity took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Clearly something happened in town that set Gabriel over the edge of reason. She needed to defuse the situation before something was said that couldn’t be taken back. “If it’s any consolation, I am not a good shot.”

             
Gabriel growled and marched to his bed, drawing the curtain.

###

             
Gab
e
scrubbed both hands down his face and sat on the edge of his bed. Yes, he was in pain, but that did not excuse his actions.
His pride had been wounded, and he had acted like a young boy.
He owed everyone an apology. Especially his wife.

             
There was no reason to get angry over her learning to shoot, except maybe the loss of ammo, but he had plenty stashed in the trunk at the foot of his bed.
One of the things he purchased plenty of when times were good.
With two rifles, and two people capable of using them, they would never go hungry or left
helpless
when
h
e
was away.

             
H
e was the king of fools.
Many more evenings like this one and he wouldn’t have to worry whether Charity would want to stay. She’d run back to town like a cat with its tail on fire.

             
Tomorrow, when he returned from hunting, they would start their Bible readings
,
and he would find something about repentance and being sorry for wronging others. Then, he’d explain to his family about punching Amos and let the children know that what he had done was very wrong. Jesus did not punch the ones who crucified him, and Gabe should not retaliate against his enemies that way either.
Right attitude or not, the notion left a bad taste in his mouth.

             
Standing and pulling aside the curtain, Gabe
squared his shoulders and
walked back to the table. “I apologize for my behavior. Charity, you may learn to shoot if you so please. Sam, I need your help with chores. Hiram and Mabel, I’m sorry for being an ungracious host.” With as much pride as he could muster, Gabe spun on his heel and moved outside.

             
He didn’t stop until he got to the corral where he penned his cattle. The poor beasts were crowded and looked miserable. But, they were home, and not scattered across the territory.
He checked the hay he had left the day before, satisfied there was plenty for a few more days.

             
Lady leaned against his leg and
he
reached down to scratch behind her ear. When Sam joined them, Gabe sent him into the barn to fork hay to the horses. He needed to be alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

             
Maybe he should walk away. Leave the house, leave the land. Take his family and head to California. Adopt Charity’s attitude of mining for gold. If there was gold there years ago, there was bound to be more.
They just needed to look in the right place.
They could strike it rich and start over.

             
He laughed. Might as well mine right here. But
the
last time he heard of
a
big strike was over by Grasshopper Creek near Bannock. He shook his head, not believing he would even entertain the notion of mining for gold that probably panned out four years ago.
             

He crossed his arms on the top rail of the corral and let the cattle’s lowing soothe him. He glanced at the darkening sky
, and shivered
.
The t
emperature was dropping fast
,
and t
he cloud cover had thickened. Within minutes, he’d be thrust into total darkness. Early in the morning, he would most likely be heading out to hunt with the season’s first snowfall. With Thanksgiving only two weeks away, he prayed he could bag a turkey for Charity. He knew the Irish favored goose on Christmas, so he would also try to take a trip to the mountain lake.

With his mood
lightened
, Gabe went to the barn to help his son prepare the animals for night. Yep, it was going to be a wonderful winter. One where he would win Charity’s heart and show her that nights where he lost his temper and acted like a child were few and far between.

26

             
Gabe and Sam left to go hunting before Charity and Meg crawled out of bed the next morning. Charity stared at the ceiling, thankful it was finally cold enough that bugs
no longer
drop
ped
on them during the night. With a low fire burning in the fireplace, the room was comfortable. The dogs and cat lay curled around each other on the small rag rug in front of the hearth.
Charity smiled at the
cozy picture
, glad to be a part of it
.

             
Tossing back her blankets, she tugged on long socks then reached for her dress. A peek outside showed still no snow. Maybe her and Meg could head into the woods and harvest the last of the
crab apples
. The
apples
would make a pleasant jam
for their holiday dinner
.

             
She patted Meg awake. “Come on. Let’s go pick
apples
while we still can.”

             
“It’s cold.”

             
“Bundle up. We’ll be snowbound soon enough
, and the berries will be gone
.” Charity slipped her dress over her nightgown, taking her own advice. “We’ll pack a lunch and make a day of it. Your Pa and Sam will be gone until supper, unless they stay out all night.”

             
“Can we take the dogs?” Meg crawled out of bed.

             
“Sure. I doubt they would stay behind anyway.” Not to mention the safety they would provide.
Two dogs would
give
ample warning if a wild animal ventured too close.

             
Charity rushed through her morning chores, scrambled some eggs for breakfast, wrapped Meg warmly in a scarf and coat, then headed out the door with the dogs gamboling around them.

             
She r
emembered seeing some crab apple trees
when
she
and Gabriel had ventured out to take the Indian girl to her people and set off in that direction. Her skin prickled at the thought the Indians might be close by. Surely not. They must have headed on their way shortly after she escaped.
Nevertheless, she’d keep her eyes peeled and pay attention to the dogs’ behavior.

             
About a fifteen minute
march up the mountain led them to
trees
still containing a few
berries.
Wrinkled, but edible.
Charity set her pail at her feet and started picking
the few left on the lower branches
. “
Do you think you can safely climb these branches, Meg? There are more apples farther up.
”

             
“Yes, Ma.”
Meg tucked the hem of her dress into the waistband of her bloomers.

             
With her heart in her throat, Charity watched Meg scrambled up the tree like a little squirrel. Soon, apples rained down on her head and shoulders. She laughed and started plucking them into the buckets. They weren’t in as good of a condition as she would have preferred, but she was bound to get enough good ones for a jar or two or jam. Not to mention how pleased the children would be.

             
Over the summer months and into fall, she’d witnessed Meg and Sam growing more lighthearted. The kitten had been only the beginning. The dogs helped the children learn to play, too, and Charity couldn’t wait until Christmas when they opened the few toys she had splurged on.

             
“Meg, I’m stepping behind that clump of bushes for the necessary. You stay right where you are.”

             
Meg nodded and
plopped in a pile of dried leaves
.

             
While Charity did her business, her gaze fell on a dark spot farther in the bushes. She stood and pushed through. A cave! Her heart stuttered. Could there be gold
inside
?
A bear? She glanced around for something to throw. She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t think the cave deep enough to house a wild animal. She found a good-sized rock and tossed it
inside
.

It clattered against stone. The cave wasn’t deep at all.
Nothing growled, and nothing charged at her.

“Meg!
C
ome here.”

             
“Why are you in the dark, Ma?” Meg took one step inside the cave and stopped. “I don’t like it in here.
It scares me.
”

             
“
Your eyes will adjust. It really isn’t that dark.
I just want to look around for a minute. That’s all. Stay right by the entrance.” Charity hadn’t seen the dogs in a while, but knew the loyal animals wouldn’t have gone far from her and Meg. Oh, she wished she had a lantern.

             
She ran her hands over the rough walls of the cave until the pads of her fingers were sore.
She didn’t feel anything that felt like veins of gold. Who was she kidding? She didn’t know what veins of gold felt like
.
Without the proper tools, she would never know what lay under the soil.

             
Tears stung her eyes, and she plopped to the cave floor in a puddle of dejection and dirty calico. That was it. No more silly dreams of striking it rich. She would be content with the life God gave her, whether it was with Gabe and the children or not. She scoffed. Most likely, considering how God didn’t seem to care much about bestowing blessings on Charity, He would choose to send her away in a few months to struggle
through life
alone.

             
Having spent more than enough time and energy on foolish pursuits, she got to her feet and joined Meg.
There would be no more time
for chilly wading in the creeks or scouring caves for veins of gold. Winter was upon them.
Even someone as stubborn as Charity knew when something was not meant to be.

             
“What’s wrong?” Meg slipped her hand in
to
Charity’s. “You look sad.”

             
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just got my eyes opened today.”

             
The sound of a bullet shattered the day’s stillness.

###

             
Gabe lined up his sight and pulled the trigger. “
Look at that, Sam.
Bulls eye!” He had just bagged the biggest turkey he had ever shot. Charity would be thrilled.
And, praise the Lord, he
had
shot not one, but two, geese
that morning
. Since the odds seemed to be in his favor, he prayed for a deer.
He strolled forward to claim his prize. Almost certainly Charity could make a hat for Sam adorned with one of the turkey’s tail feathers
, and they’d have quills for pens
.