CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (35 page)

             
“I’ve been lax on reading
God’s
Word, and
I
would like to rectify that starting today.
Let us bow our heads for the blessing.

Gabe cleared his throat. “Father, we come before
Y
ou with Thanksgiving in our hearts. Thank
Y
ou for the abundance of food before us, the roof over our heads, and the blessing of friends and family. Amen.”

             
A chorus of
a
mens rang out. Gabe opened his Bible. “
O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: because his mercy endureth forever
. That’s in Psalms. In Ephesians, i
t
says
,
Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ
, and finally in 1 Thessalonians, it says
,
In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you
.” Gabe closed the Bible. “Sam, what do these verses mean to you?”

             
“That I should be thankful for my food even though it’s growing cold.” He eyed a biscuit.

             
Charity snorted and covered her mouth with her napkin.

             
Gabe bit back a grin. “Yes, and I apologize. We can eat while we discuss God’s reasons for us being thankful in all things.”

             
Everyone dug into their meal except for Charity
,
who stared at her empty plate. Gabe laid his hand over hers. “Is something bothering you?”

             
She took a deep breath and met his gaze, her eyes as hard as emeralds. “Give thanks? I can understand giving thanks on a day like today when there’s plenty of food and we are warm and snug in our home, but what about the other times? What about when me Ma and
D
a died
?
Ma died sick
and in pain
.
D
a died and left me with debts from his gambling. You tell me I’m to be thankful?” She
pulled her hand free and
slapped the table.
“That those things were God’s will for me?”

             
“God has a reason for everything He does.”
Gabe
so wanted to comfort her
, to g
ive her the words
that would
soothe the pain in her heart. “We don’t always know the reason right away.”
What could he say to show her God’s love? He hadn’t done a good job of being an example, although he had tried.

             
“I don’t want to hear His reasons if it means losing someone I love.” She stood. “I’m sorry for raising the issue. Continue eating without me.” She grabbed her wool coat and stormed outside.

             
The room remained silent for a moment. Heat rose in Gabe’s neck and face. His children looked stunned, then shrugged and went to eating.

“I’m sorry.” Gabe
hurried
to follow Charity.

             
He found her sitting on a
hay bale
in the barn
, staring at the two barn cats who tussled over a mouse
.
The horses snuffled a welcome.
Without saying anything, he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

             
She sniffed. “I’m sorry for ruining everyone’s day.”

             
“You didn’t. They understand. Do you want to talk about it?”

             
“No. This is between me and God.”

             
“So you do believe
in God
.”

             
She pulled back and looked at him. “Of course I believe. Only a fool wouldn’t.
My mother didn’t raise a heathen.

             
He chuckled.
“Well, God can handle your anger.” He gave her a squeeze.
She felt good in his arms. Her hair smelled like sunshine and lavender.
A few strands pulled free of her bun and tickled his chin with silky fingers.
If it weren’t freezing, he would be tempted to stay a while.
“Are you ready to come back in?”

             
She shook her head. “I’m embarrassed.”

             
“Everyone was eating when I followed you, and I can hear your stomach growling. I’m mighty hungry myself.”

             
“Fine.” She pulled her coat tighter around herself. “I need to think of an explanation for the children.”

             
“Not unless they ask. Sam and Meg will come to their own conclusion based on the fact your parents are dead
, and you’re sad
. They lost their mother, too, remember?”

             
She nodded. “
All right
. I’m ready.”

###

             
Charity followed him outside. The snow fell heavier, lending a strange hush to the property.
Their footsteps crunched on the way to the house. When would
she
take control of her pain and her temper? She
hadn’t
liked it that
her mother to ha
d
lived in pain, taking laudanum every day. She had no control o
ver
her
d
a’s gambling. He had made his choices,
and
now Charity needed to make hers.
She would have to deal with the past—and the future.

             
After hanging up her coat, she squared her shoulders and faced the others at the table. “I apologize. Sometimes my grief overwhelms me.” She marched to her seat and sat down before reaching for the platter of turkey.

             
Mabel patted her shoulder. “We understand.”

             
At that moment, surrounded by her friends and family, Charity felt more loved than she had in a very long time
, and for this she was very thankful
.
When they continued the discussion around the table, listing the things they were thankful for, having these special people with her was at the top of her list.

             
Later tha
t
night, after the Stoltzes left and everyone was in bed, she sat and stared into the fire. Gabriel’s gentle snores filled the room. Outside, the snow continued to fall. At her feet, lay the two dogs, their heads keeping her feet warm.

             
Give thanks in all things. She could easily give thanks for this moment, this day, even, but the death of her parents, and the uncertainty of her future, gave her pause. She reached up and removed Gabriel’s Bible from the mant
e
l. Caressing the worn leather cover, she wondered what treasures were hidden in the pages.

             
She’d never owned one for herself
, and r
arely opened her ma’s. The thought of reading the book so precious to her ma had seemed sacrilegious almost. Maybe it was time. Tomorrow, she’d dig it out of her trunk and read some of the notations written in her mother’s
sweet
hand.

             
Ma would have been shocked at Charity’s behavior at the supper table.
She clutched the Bible to her chest. One look from Ma’s blue eyes would have had Charity straightening her attitude right away. Oh, she missed her so much. Da, too.
He had been
funny and accommodating, given to moments of drink
, but how he had loved Charity
. Ma had held the family together.

             
Charity glanced at the curtain dividing the males from the females. She had no healthy father to compare to her husband, or to God for that matter. Except for his wager, Gabriel was the complete opposite of Patrick O’Connell. Another thing for Charity to give thanks for. She smiled. Now, she thought of a long list of thanks. She replaced the Bible in its favored spot and headed to bed. Maybe she would take a few minutes to speak with God for the first time in two years.

###

             
Amos should never have approached the house two weeks ago. Now, he’d spent the afternoon staring at the Williams homestead, occasionally catching glimpses of the happy holiday supper
whenever someone opened the door
. Why did he torment himself so?

             
He rubbed his jaw. The bruise had long ago disappeared, but not the power behind Gabriel’s rage. Amos was almost tempted to tell Gabe to forget the wager. That he had had enough of the bitterness between them. Maggie was most likely spinning in her grave at the way the two men she cared the most about were acting.
Not to mention how far away from God Amos had wandered.

             
Bitterness ate away at his soul, leaving no room for love or forgiveness. What would he have done had Charity said yes to his ridiculous proposal? He would definitely have married the woman. A man didn’t see many as beautiful as her, but what kind of life would they have had?
Would she
marry him because she felt she had no choice? Maggie’s children would want to stay with Gabe. After all, they knew no other father.

             
Amos stared into his fire. His life was a lonely existence. Maybe, instead of lusting after something that didn’t belong to him, he should look for a wife of his own. Maybe one of them mail order brides some of the miners were sending off for. He could specify a woman with yellow hair and black
-eyed
Susan eyes like Maggie’s.

             
Wouldn’t much matter what the rest of her looked like, as long as she was able to fill some of the loneliness
in his life
.
It gave him something to think about. He had a choice to make. Continue his feud with Gabe, or settle down with a woman of his own.

28

             
After her uncomfortable conversation the night before with God, Charity was determined to make th
is
day the best one yet.
A deeper chill than in the previous days filled the soddy.
She
pulled the quilts higher around her chin and glanced
at
the
body
beside her. Only the top of Meg’s
curly
head showed.

             
Charity would fix oatmeal for breakfast. Something hot that would stick to their ribs on the coldest day they had had so far. She patted Meg’s hip. “Time to get up. Dress warm to fetch the eggs.” She glanced at the window. It was hard to tell through the oil cloth, but she thought it
might
still
be
snowing.

             
The other bed lay empty, telling her that Gabriel and Sam were already at work on their morning chores.
Her late night conversation with God caused her to sleep in.
How early had Hiram and Mabel woke and headed home?
“Come on, sleepyhead. The men are ahead of us.”

             
Meg groaned and rolled over. “It’s too cold.”

             
“We have a lot to do today.” Charity threw back the covers and grabbed her dress. “Laundry.” Which would not be fun in this cold.

She would need to string a line across the room, and she definitely did
n
o
t relish hauling water from the frigid outdoors onto her new wood floors.
“Not to mention reading and figuring. We don’t want you and Sam to get behind. I need to make bread and have Sam bring in more firewood. We have a full day
of work
ahead of us.”

She leaped from bed and hurriedly dressed. One glance out the window showed
that
snow
did indeed
still f
a
ll. She grinned. Maybe it was deep enough for bowls of snow dribbled with honey.
A treat the children would love.

             
By the time the rest of the family returned, Charity had breakfast ready and hot coffee made. She set out the bowls, and poured two mugs of coffee. She greeted her family with a smile, but pulled back when Gabriel stepped to her side and leaned in close.

             
“Is it bad?”
She
asked
, taking a step back
.

             
“The storm?” Gabriel shook his head. “No. We won’t get a bad one for a few more weeks.”

             
“Good.” Charity turned back to the stove with a lighter heart. Her skin prickled when Gabriel
followed
.
She had nowhere else to go, and he stood way too close smelling of shaving cream and wood smoke.
And
t
here she stood in a stained apron and her hair not even put up yet.

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