Authors: Shirley Kennedy
Lucy inwardly cringed. Bessie’s unfortunate description of marriage certainly didn’t apply to her and Jacob. Even so, a feeling of uneasiness crept over her. True, Jacob didn’t beat or whip her; yet lately he’d grown more domineering. So far, she’d been compliant with his wishes, eager to please. What if she defied him? Why did she fear his reaction if she did? Well, there was no use thinking about it now, and besides, Bessie’s problems loomed large compared to her own.
Lucy searched for words of comfort but could find nothing appropriate. What she really wanted to tell Bessie was how appalled she was that any man would lead his family into such danger. Saying such a thing to Bessie at this late date wouldn’t do one bit of good.
The day before the Potts and three other families were to leave for California, the entire farm community held a farewell potluck dinner in their honor at the local church. Everyone in the neighborhood was invited, from the prosperous merchants and farmers to the servants and rough-and-tumble laborers who worked in the fields.
When Lucy, Jacob, and Noah arrived, she found Abner and Martha already there.
What a gloomy pair they are.
Lucy climbed from the carriage and lifted Noah down. Abner and Jacob were alike in some respects. Both presented imposing figures, with their massive shoulders and impressive height. The resemblance ended there. In contrast to Jacob’s blond hair and rather bland features, Abner Schneider had the look of a Biblical prophet with his long, dark beard, blazing brown eyes, and all-black attire. He commanded instant attention, especially when he quoted gloom-and-doom scripture from the Bible, something he did with annoying frequency. His wife, a timid little mouse who agreed with everything her husband said, lived in his shadow. She kept herself as unobtrusive as possible in plain black dresses, her dark, lifeless hair pulled into an untidy bun. Her skin was sallow, and her big eyes always held a hint of fear. Lucy felt nothing but pity for her, especially when she saw Abner treated her more like a servant than a wife. Even worse, Lucy had twice detected a discoloration around Martha’s eye. She never asked what caused it—surely Martha would lie—but she wondered what other marks and bruises might be hidden beneath the high necklines and long sleeves of Martha’s dowdy gowns.
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Mother, may I go play?” Noah asked.
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Of course you can. Run along.” The first time she met the friendly little boy with the bright gray eyes and blond curls, he instantly stole her heart. Now he called her “Mother,” which pleased her to no end.
As Noah ran off, Martha looked after him. “Such a dear little boy, and so very bright, too.”
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Indeed he is.” Lucy heard the longing in Martha’s voice and felt her usual surge of sympathy for the childless woman. Countless times Lucy had heard Abner lament the lack of a son, implying Martha was to blame. Apparently Martha thought so, too. That she remained childless after nearly ten years of marriage must be a constant heartache.
Abner greeted his brother, throwing the barest of nods toward Lucy. He pointed to a group of men standing in the churchyard, engaged in lively conversation with a beardless man in fringed buckskins and a soft, broad-brimmed hat, his face bronzed by wind and sun. “I see Clint Palance is here.”
Lucy hadn’t heard the name. “Who is Clint Palance?”
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His name is well-known in the West.” Abner spoke with admiration. “He’s been a trapper, trader, and Indian scout. I hear he fought the Cayuse in Oregon in forty-eight. Now he and a fellow named Charlie Dawes are partners. They own a trading company. Lately they’ve been guiding wagon trains to California. Safely, I might add.”
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So, what’s he doing here?”
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Business in Boston, something to do with his trading company. Now, from what I hear, he and Charlie Dawes will lead the Potts’ wagon train to California. Come, let’s hear what he has to say.” He started forward, Martha at his side; then he stopped to address her: “Go in and help with the food.”
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Yes, Abner.”
Watching her sister-in-law meekly walk away made Lucy’s temper flare. How dare Abner treat his wife that way! Lucy had never heard her make more than the most inoffensive of remarks and certainly had never once heard her stand up to her husband.
Abner turned to her. “Why don’t you go in with Martha? This is men’s talk, not suitable for women.”
Lucy smiled back at him. “Perhaps not, but I’ll be the judge of that. I’d like to hear what this Indian scout has to say.”
Good try, Abner
. Her brother-in-law’s constant attempts to domineer were highly annoying, but so far she’d managed to conceal her disgust, not only with him but with her husband, who stood by in spineless silence and let his brother make the decisions.
Lucy drew closer to hear what Clint Palance had to say. Something about him immediately captured her attention. Perhaps it was the knife with the very long blade dangling in a buckskin sheath from his belt. Or perhaps it was the lean, sinewy, slightly dangerous look about him. He wasn’t especially tall, yet somehow he gave the impression of power as he stood, stance casual, yet with an air of complete self-confidence. He wore his black hair long and very straight, almost touching his broad shoulders. Drawing even closer, she saw his eyes were a deep shade of brown, wide-set, shrewd, and assessing. She also saw a scar, jagged and ugly, at least five inches in length, that ran from the middle of his left cheek to the bottom of his firm chin.
What an intriguing man
. Suddenly his gaze shifted. He seemed to be staring directly at her, and in a cool, impertinent way. Her first panicked thought was he knew exactly what she was thinking! Her good sense quickly returned. She told herself to stop being foolish. Of course, he couldn’t read her thoughts. Even so, she felt strangely compelled to show him she wasn’t available. Fully gazing at the trapper, she stepped closer to her husband and made a show of tucking her arm through his. Almost immediately Clint Palance looked away, but not before she thought she spied the beginning of a smile tip the corners of his mouth.
Several men, including Abner, crowded around Palance, eagerly asking questions. To her surprise, Jacob left her side to join them. She drew closer, too, and heard one of the men ask, “So tell us, Mister Palance, which is the easiest trail to California?”
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There is no easiest.”
The trapper’s reply brought a clamor of questions.
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What’s the safest way to go?”
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What’s the best month to leave?”
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Will there be any gold left when we get to California?”
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Gentlemen!” Clint Palance raised a hand, and the voices stilled. “There is no easiest and there is no safest. April’s the best time to go, soon as winter’s gone. As for the gold you’re seeking ...”
The crowd pressed closer. A large, unkempt man with a straggly red beard asked, “Ain’t there plenty of gold for everybody?”
Palance firmly shook his head. “Not with thousands already at the gold fields and thousands more on the way.”
The man stepped forward. “That’s not the way I heard it! I heard there’s gold all over the ground, just a’lyin’ there waiting for a man to come pick it up.”
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That may have been true at the beginning, but not anymore.”
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That’s bull!”
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That’s the truth.” Palance’s voice was so soft he might have been discussing the price of wheat.
The large man sneered. “You’re a liar! Everyone knows they’re paving the streets with gold in California. What’s your angle? You aiming for us to stay home so you can keep it all for yourself?”
The crowd instantly stilled. Bessie, frowning with concern, moved next to Lucy. “There’s going to be trouble,” she whispered. “Just look at the size of that knife dangling from Mister Palance’s belt.”
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I see it.”
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He would use it, too. I just know he would.”
The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath, all eyes, including Lucy’s, fastened on Palance, waiting for his response.
The trapper stood with an easy smile, hands by his sides, making no threatening moves toward the knife. He regarded the hostile man much as he would a bug, deciding whether or not to squash it. “I’ll wager a horn of Monongahela whiskey you won’t find gold on the ground in California.” His smile widened. “Now you have a choice. You can accept my bet or you can choose to call me a liar again. Which will it be, sir?”
In the taut silence that followed, Lucy watched as the red-bearded man twice opened his mouth to speak then thought better of it. No wonder. Clint Palance had retained his quiet, conversational voice; his smile seemed genuine, yet the ominous set of his chin and the hard glint deep in his eyes suggested only a fool would tangle with him.
Apparently, Red Beard thought the same. With a face-saving shrug, as if he weren’t the least concerned, he backed a step away. “I don’t want no trouble.” He spun around. Amidst an audible murmur of relief from the crowd, he walked away.
Bessie’s gaze followed him. “Mercy me, did you see that? I think Mister Palance is a little ... a little ...”
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Frightening?” Lucy said.
Bessie nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s exactly right, a little frightening, and certainly not a man I would invite into my parlor.” She paused for a thoughtful moment. “On the other hand, there’s something about him … you must admit he’s devilish handsome.” Bessie gazed at Clint Palance with admiring eyes. “Don’t you think so?”
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He’s all right.” Lucy wasn’t sure why she concealed her true feelings when actually she found him most intriguing, as well as handsome. “How do you suppose he got that scar on his cheek?”
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They say ’t’was a grizzly bear. Imagine!”
No, she couldn’t imagine. All she knew was that in her entire sheltered, tranquil life, she’d never witnessed such a scene. She felt greatly relieved it had ended peaceably. As the questions resumed, she wanted nothing more than to get away from this disturbing man in buckskins. She moved in close, to where Jacob stood, and tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go inside.”
Abner, who stood next to him, shook his head. “I think we should hear this.”
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So do I,” Jacob replied.
Lucy concealed her chagrin. Why, again, did her husband show this sudden interest in California? Something cautioned her not to ask; then she silently laughed at her foolishness. Jacob was a prosperous farmer, thoroughly content with his life. Never in a million years would he uproot them to join the foolhardy stampede to the West.
The potluck was over, thank God. Outside the church, Clint Palance stood alone and impatient in the weak, early spring sunshine. He was staying at the Potts farm and was anxious to return. He had much to do before the wagons bearing the Potts family and their possessions left for Independence, along with the three other families who had joined the trek west. They would pick up others along the way.
As he waited, a slender woman with thick brownish-red hair piled atop her head burst through the church door and started down the steps. Ah, Mrs. Schneider. When he first laid eyes on her, only hours ago in the churchyard, he felt a tug of excitement. Now here it came again. Funny. These days, rare was the woman who stirred his interest. During his years as a trapper, when he spent months in his isolated mountain cabin, he set his mind not to think about women. Had himself convinced he didn’t need a woman in his life and never would. Now, back in civilization, he hadn’t changed. Sure, from time to time he dallied with the occasional woman, but not the kind you married. Never would he be the kind of man who married, had a passel of kids, and settled into a life of boredom and, as far as he was concerned, entrapment. Still ...
Something about Mrs. Jacob Schneider caught his eye. Among the farm women here today, she stood out like a rose among thorns. Slender figure ... bright blue, wide-set eyes ... full red lips ... small, straight nose with its perky tilt. He could hardly keep his eyes off her.
A while ago he’d been amused when she clutched her husband’s arm, sending out that silly “I’m not available” signal. Like he couldn’t have figured that out. Too bad she was married. Wait. Why should he care? Leading the Potts’ party safely to California was all he cared about. He wouldn’t allow any female, married or single, to clutter up his mind.
She reached the bottom of the steps. “Mister Palance.” She gave a polite nod. Nose in the air, she was about to sail right by.
Oh, no, she wouldn’t. “Mrs. Jacob Schneider!” His voice rang out extra loud.
She stopped and turned her head. “You know my name?”
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I made it my business to know your name.”
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Oh.”
Good. He could tell she was caught off guard and stuck for an answer. “I’ve been talking to your husband.” She turned to face him—one hell of a beautiful woman.
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You talked to Jacob?” She raised an eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t trying to persuade him to join John Potts and head for California.”
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Why is that?”
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Because ...”
He could easily see her struggle to remain polite and keep her mouth shut, but temptation triumphed.
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I think it’s insane. All these people leaving the only life they’ve ever known to take off on a wild goose chase for gold.”
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It’s not entirely the gold. Many plan to settle the land, make new lives for themselves.”