CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (4 page)

             
Charity climbed unsteadily from the wagon and waited for Meg. Sam swung over the side and dashed out of sight. Meg followed. Well, why couldn’t he have taken his sister? Charity lifted her dress high enough to keep from snagging it in the brambles and shuffled after them.

             
“Meg? Sam?” Bushes rustled and Charity jerked. “Where are you?”

             
Meg popped up. “Shhh. You make too much noise.” She ducked back down
behind a thick bush
.

             
“What are you afraid of?” Sam appeared at Charity’s elbow. “Pa told me how you saved Meg from a horse. Ain’t nothing out here that big.”

             
Charity clasped a hand to her throat. “Saints alive, child! You scared ten years off me.
Besides, horses don’t eat people.
”

             
“You’re funny.” Sam raced back to the wagon.

             
Meg finished her business and tucked her hand in Charity’s. “I think I’m going to like you being my new ma, even if you do talk strange.”

             
Charity’s heart warmed at the little girl’s words. Hopefully, Charity was cut out to be a mother, strange words and all.

###

             
Amos leaned back in his leather chair and folded his ankles on top of his polished oak desk. He rolled an unlit cigarette between his fingers. So, Gabe got himself hitched again.

             
It wouldn’t do him any good. He’d still lose his land, and most likely his new bride along with it. The man had already proved he couldn’t keep a woman alive in Montana.

             
Amos tightened his fingers, snapping the cigarette. Growling, he tossed it in the waste receptacle at his feet. Amos had seen the pretty Irish gal around town, even thought once or twice about making her acquaintance. Pity she married Gabe. Doing so only put her in harm’s way. Amos would have rather left her out of things.

             
He settled the chair back on all four legs and moved to the window where his ranch stretched out before him in a glorious display of green grass, wildflowers, and fat cattle.
A successful ranch.
The only thing lacking was a creek and a family. Both of which he intended to rectify within a year.

3

Charity clutched her stomach. What she’d originally thought was a lush green hill turned out to be her new home.
It made her stone cottage in Ireland look like a mansion.
A wooden door and a window with paper tacked over the opening comprised the front.

             
To her right sat a barn, glorious in comparison to the hovel Gabriel seemed so pleased about
, judging by the grin on his face
. A garden, surrounded by a split-rail fence, sat off to the east. She
could
imagine dipping her feet into a creek that bubbled about fifty yards away
, and thanked the Lord she wouldn’t have far to cart water
. Trees dotted the landscape. A beautiful place, except for the hole in the ground that would be her home.

She accepted Gabriel’s hand and allowed him to help her down
, then pulled away as soon as possible
.
No sense dwelling on the heat of his skin against hers, or how safe his size made her. Her new husband made it quite clear they’d share a space for a year and no
more
.

             
Sam ran ahead and opened the door
, Meg on his heels
.

With head held high, Charity stepped inside her new home, and wilted. Little light came through the window. A wood stove occupied a corner of the one room.
At least she wouldn’t have to cook over an open fire.
A wooden table with two benches took up the center of the space. Shelves with canned goods ran along the walls.
Was that a bug scurrying across the packed dirt?
Beneath the
cans
, clothing hung on hooks along walls covered with old newspapers. A tattered quilt separated two beds. Charity would
bet
her stockings that the mattresses were filled with straw
. She’d give almost anything to sleep on
goose feathers.
Except, Charity didn’t gamble.
Mercy, she wasn’t one to think above her lot in life, but she’d expected a bit more than this.

             
She stepped aside and let Gabe squeeze past with her trunk. He set it next to one of the beds. “I’ll set up your cot and string another blanket. You and Meg can share this space, Sam and I will share the other.”

             
“That’ll be fine. Thank you.”
She opened the cedar chest and pulled out her best apron. A navy blue with ruffles along the hem. She’d
g
et to work fixing supper. Tomorrow, she’d come up with a plan to spruce the place up a bit. Just because they lived in a hole like rabbits didn’t mean they couldn’t have a few nice things around them.

             
Once Gabe set the rest of things inside, he planted his hands on his hips. “Ain’t much, but it’s home. Figure you can add a woman’s touch. Whatever you want is fine by me.” He nodded, motioned for Sam to follow him, and ducked out the door.

             
“For sure, the man just hired a servant.”
What she wanted was a floor other than dirt and at least one glass window.

Charity yanked the tie behind her back into a bow.
Why should the
thought
bother her? This way, there’
d
be no pawing when she was tired at the end of the day. She’d seen how her Ma
ma
barely tolerated
D
a’s touch
after a while
. Of course, that could’ve been the whiskey on his breath. Still, Charity missed him. He’d loved his only child.

             
She stomped over
to
the shelf of canned goods. Most looked to be over a year old. Probably put up by his late wife. Charity sighed. She’d have to can
,
too
, if they wanted to eat through the winter
.
No wonder the man wanted a wife.

             
By the time Gabe and Sam returned, Charity had
set
the table with her own tin blue dishes
,
biscuits wrapped in an embroidered towel
nestled in a wooden bowl
, and the luxury of a new candle stuck
out of
a jar
. She ladled ham and beans onto each plate and stood back to see how the food was received.

             
“Sit, please.” Gabe waved his fork. “No need to stand over our shoulders while we eat.”

             
Charity raised her eyebrows.
Da
always wanted her to wait a few minutes to see whether he wanted something else. Eating while the food was hot was a rare treat. “Thank you.”

             
“Candle
i
s a nice touch.”

             
She speared him with a glance. “It is my wedding supper after all.”
The dolt.

             
He jerked and locked gazes with her.

             
Lifting her fork, Charity gave him the sweetest smile she could muster.

###

             
Gabe
toed off his boots, unhooked his suspenders and let his pants fall, and then climbed beneath the blanket with Sam. His son immediately curled into him. Gabriel chuckled. No sense in fooling himself. He’d rather it were Charity beside him, thorns and all. But there wasn’t any sense liking a gal that wouldn’t be around long
, or one with claws
.

             
She’d seemed downright annoyed at supper. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.
Seemed he’d been aggravating her all day.
He’d been upfront with her about the marriage conditions. It couldn’t be the fact they didn’t share a bed that had her riled, could it? Maggie hadn’t cared much for that part of marriage.

             
Lord, I’m a fool. But you promise to look out for the foolish, of which I’m king
. Gabe cursed his impulsive nature. Should’ve left things alone. But the sight of emerald eyes over a stack of paper wrapped parcels had left him addled.
Then, she’d darted into the road after Meg, and cinched the thought.

             
He’d loved Maggie, no denying it, but their love hadn’t been the heart-stampeding, word-stumbling emotion he might be able to feel around Charity. Obviously, he’d been without a wife too long. He shouldn’t be having these feelings after only a day. But she shore was pretty, and her foot-stomping made him laugh
inside
.

He glanced at the divider between the two beds.
If he were to have Sam sleep elsewhere and invite Charity over, they wouldn’t be able to have an annulment
. The last thing Gabe needed was the distraction of
a woman
. From now on, he’d make sure he spent all his time in the barn or with the cows.
Maybe even have Meg bring his meals out to him.

Whatever it took not to have to look into those accusing green eyes.

###

             
Charity woke the next morning to a pair of black-eyed susan eyes watching her sleep. “Good morning, Meg.”

             
“Morning, Ma.” The little girl bounced on her knees. “Pa and Sam ate the leftover biscuits and said they’d see us at dinner. Ain’t you going to get up and do your chores?”

             
“In a moment.” She glanced at the open front door. Sunlight spilled in, dust motes dancing on the beams. “Guess I overslept.”

             
“Iffen we don’t do our chores, Pa says he’ll whoop us.”

             
Heavens! “He hits you?”
Charity’d like to see the man try to lift a hand against her. No man’s bad temper could stand against a cast iron skillet against his skull.

             
“Nah. We always do our chores.” Meg grinned, showing off dimples. “I suspect Pa’s just teasing anyhow.”

             
Charity threw off her quilt
, shook it free of any bugs that might have landed during the night,
and reached for the dress she’d worn yesterday.
She felt silly for worrying about Sam’s safety the day before. Obviously, Gabe cared deeply for his children.
“Let me cook up some eggs
,
and we’ll get started.”

             
“Today’s Monday, so it’s wash and bread day.”

             
Charity grimaced. “Who set those rules?”

             
“Ma did before she died. Since you’re the new ma, you gotta follow
‘em
.” Meg climbed from bed and dashed outside. Within minutes, she’d dragged
a
metal tub inside.

             
Charity shook her head. “Leave that outside. It’ll turn the floor to mud. Gather up the dirty clothes while I fix breakfast.” She’d be darned if she’d do all the work when there was another capable pair of hands around. Laundry! She would’ve liked a couple of days free considering that’s all she seemed to do
before
.

             
The open door beckoned. Charity succumbed to its siren song and gazed out on a clear day. If she listened close, she could hear the breeze through the aspens and the gurgle of the brook. What a welcome change from the bustling
town
.

             
The sound of Gabe’s voice and Sam’s laugh reached her
,
and she turned toward the corral. Sam trotted around the enclosure on the back of a painted pony while Gabe shouted instructions. Didn’t look to her like the two were getting much work done. Ah, well, that’s the lot of women, wasn’t it? Do the majority of the work while the men played?

             
She grabbed a bucket from beside the stoop and headed to the creek. Might as well get the water heating while she cooked. Ma
ma
always said a woman could do more than one thing at a time. As she strolled, she heard Gabe holler, “I bet you can’t take him to a trot, Sam!”

             
Charity cringed.
Did her new husband really bet again?

4

             
The sun’s rays shone like jewels on the surface of the clear creek
, kissing the crest of each
gurgling
ripple
.
A mockingbird warbled from an oak tree, lending its voice to the serenade of the wind’s song through the branches.