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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC014000

0764214101 (26 page)

BOOK: 0764214101
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Woody walked over to them then. Lillian thought she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. His gaze held hers for just a moment, but in that moment they seemed to share so much. He was precious to her—so much a part of her heart. How it all happened, she hadn’t a clue. But she thanked the Lord for making her path straight to Angels Camp.

“You all ready to head out for our picnic?” He glanced toward Mrs. Goodman and smiled.

“Sounds lovely, young man. I haven’t been on a picnic in years.” Mrs. Goodman winked at them both.

“Where’s Jimmy?” He looked around.

Lillian’s heart plummeted. “He was just here.” She glanced around, as well.

“Let’s split up. We’ll find him faster that way.” Woody took off toward the west side of the churchyard, and Lillian went the other way. Mrs. Goodman headed toward the street and town.

Lillian called out for the little boy but couldn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’d followed a rabbit somewhere? Or needed to use the outhouse? She checked back inside the church, but everyone was gone. Then she went back around the church again. The cemetery stood off in the distance, and she noticed two figures.

Father and son.

She took her time walking over there, trying to slow the rapid pace of her heart. Jimmy must be visiting his mother’s grave. Why hadn’t she thought to bring him here before now? The poor child. He’d endured so much and still grieved the loss of his mother. Feeling guilty for neglecting such an important thing for Jimmy, she slowly walked up.

Woody’s back was to her as he crouched by his son. He wrapped the boy in his strong arms.

As Lillian neared she heard Jimmy’s soft sobs and Woody’s words of comfort. She turned to go, to give them privacy, but stopped when she heard Woody’s pleas.

“Son, please, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t share with me what’s going on in that head of yours. I know you miss your mother. I do too. More than you know. But I want to help you.”

Lillian couldn’t help it. She turned back around to watch and listen.

Jimmy shook his head over and over again. Tears streamed down his little cheeks.

“Did you see what happened to your mother, son? Did you?”

Jimmy’s sobs turned into wails, and he just kept shaking his head.

Woody picked him up and wrapped him in a tight hug again. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Darwin awakened early that Sunday morning. He’d waited an entire week for all of the people on the farm to leave at the same time. He had been nearly ready to march in there and hold them all at gunpoint in order to get his gold. Desperation and hunger made a man do crazy things. But then on Saturday when he’d been watching them from the coverage of the trees, Darwin overheard them mention attending church the next day. They were all going to go—even the workmen. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

He crept around, being as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to wake Harry. Harry was such a big guy that he ate his weight in food almost daily. However, they’d run out of food, and Harry had begun acting like a five-year-old, demanding something to
eat. Darwin tried to explain it to Harry, even encourage him, that the sooner he was able to remember where he’d hid all of the gold, the sooner they’d be able to buy food. But it did little good, and Harry just continued to complain. It was one more justification for ending Harry’s life. Darwin’s gold wouldn’t last long if he had to keep up with his brother’s voracious appetite, and no one was going to take in a big oaf who’d eat them out of house and home.

Darwin all but tiptoed to the narrow shaft where he’d hobbled his horse. The shaft looked to have been one that someone started and then abandoned. It was perfect for keeping his horse hidden out of sight. He saddled the gelding, then led him out of the mine. His plan was to approach the farm from the north and leave the horse grazing there out of sight. Then he’d sneak down past the outbuildings, avoiding the one that housed the crew. Hopefully they’d all gone to church, as well, but Darwin wasn’t going to take any chances.

He’d just mounted his horse and started down the trail when he heard the unmistakable sound of Harry lumbering after him. Great. That was just what he needed. Now he had to deal with the constant babbling of his simpleminded brother.

“Are we going to get the gold, Brother?” Harry asked as he caught up to the horse.

“Yes, but we have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake up anyone if they’re sleeping.”

Harry put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh.”

Darwin nodded. “Exactly.”

“I’ll be very quiet,” Harry promised.

Darwin doubted it was even possible but had no choice but to let Harry follow. After all, he might very well remember where he’d hidden some of the other bags.

As they got closer to the farm, Harry poked him. “Brother, Brother. I remember more.”

Just what Darwin hoped. “Tell me, Harry. What do you remember?”

“I took some of the bags to my special place, so that no one would ever find it. I ran out of places to hide it at the house.”

“Where’s your special place?”

“Oh, it’s a long, long, long, long, long, long ways from here. It took me two days to walk there.”

“Two days? What were you thinking?”

Harry frowned. “I was thinking that I had to keep your stuff safe, Brother. I was thinking hard.”

“Well, we can take horses to get there. That is, if you remember how to get there.”

“I remember. It has all sorts of caves to hide in, and there’s water, and it falls down from the mountain. It’s beautiful. Miss Lillian called it a new park.”

Darwin looked at him for a moment. “Are you talkin’ about that new national park? Yosemite?”

Harry nodded and clapped his hands. “Yes. Yes. Yes. That’s it. Miss Lillian called it that.”

Great. That was a long ways. He and some friends had hidden out there years ago when the law was bearing down on them for a little bank robbery they’d pulled. There were enough canyons and gullies and caves in there to keep them looking for the next hundred years. Darwin shook his head. He’d have to worry about that later. After he got the gold off the Colton property. Property that should’ve been his.

First things first. He’d have to look in the first place he’d buried the gold and make sure that Harry hadn’t left any. Then he’d have to look by the well. That would be a challenge.

As they neared his original hiding place, Darwin glanced around. “Harry, you keep an eye out. If you see anyone, and I mean anyone or anything comin’ this way, you let me know.”

“Okay, Brother. You can count on me. I’ll be the lookout.”

Darwin dug by their ma’s favorite tree. It took him a long time just to get a foot down.

“Want me to dig for a while?”

“Sure.” Might as well let that big oaf do some of the hard work. Darwin watched the surroundings.

A loud clink reached his ears. Harry jumped up and down. “I hit something!”

Sure enough. When Darwin jumped in the hole with his brother, he pulled up a leather sack. They dug some more with their hands, and he pulled up one more bag. Convinced there weren’t any more, Darwin looked at Harry. “Fill the hole back in. Nice and packed.” He looked at the sky. The sun was well into the west, past high noon. That meant they were running out of time. “We gotta be quick, Harry.”

“I can be fast.”

“You better be.”

Darwin raced to the top of the hill. In the distance, he spotted the wagon. That meant they only had about ten minutes to get out of sight. He ran back down the hill and grabbed the sacks. But carrying more than one would be too much for him for long. Gold was heavy.

He heaved one over his shoulder and headed back toward the mine. “I’m gonna get this one over that hill and then come back for the other.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry grunted. He was almost done filling in the hole.

“Hurry up. They’re coming.”

By the time Darwin made it back, his brother was done and had grabbed the other leather sack. They made it to the bluff just in time. Harry kept on running, but Darwin turned and wanted to watch. He’d heard about the well-to-do new nanny that Colton had hired. Had the boy opened his trap yet?

He heard laughter drift toward him from the house, and Darwin looked on. It was the boy. And he was laughing. The ladies went inside the house, and Colton rode the wagon to the barn while the boy chased a rabbit in the yard. “Come this way.” Darwin willed the child to come closer. He hadn’t come this far to see the sniveling little brat ruin it all.

The kid caught the rabbit and tucked him into something wrapped around his shoulder but kept coming toward the tree that Darwin hid behind. When he could hear the boy’s footsteps, Darwin checked to make sure no one else was around and ventured out into plain sight. He wasn’t sure the child would recognize him, since he was clean-shaven.

The boy stopped in his tracks and stared. His face went white.

Darwin couldn’t help but give him a smug smile. Now was his chance to get rid of the one and only witness to the Colton murder. But if he took the boy now, more people would come out to investigate. And he couldn’t deal with that. Not until he’d gotten all his gold back. Darwin wanted the kid dead. But he wanted his gold more.

The kid stood there shaking.

“Not one word, kid. You hear me? Not a word. Or you’re all dead, including that pretty little lady that’s come to live with you.” The boy’s eyes widened even more.

Movement at the house caught his eye, and Darwin slunk behind the tree again.

“Jimmy . . . come on in and wash up.” The new nanny’s voice
floated from the porch where she stood with her hand at her brow line to shade her eyes. She was a pretty thing. Hopefully she hadn’t spotted him.

Darwin stayed behind the tree until he heard the boy’s footsteps running the other way. He could only hope that the kid would be scared enough to keep his mouth shut.

Until Darwin could shut it permanently.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

B
y Wednesday at lunch, Lillian was worried. They’d had so much fun at their picnic on Sunday—it had been a joy to hear Jimmy’s laughter. But that evening he wouldn’t eat his dinner, and he went to bed early. Monday morning he wouldn’t cooperate with anything. Just sat in a chair by the window in his room petting Mr. Whiskers. He refused to come downstairs. Refused to eat. And wouldn’t even look at her.

Thinking that he was just getting back at her for scolding him to clean up his room Sunday afternoon, she didn’t pay too much mind. But when dinner came and went and the child still hadn’t moved, she began to get concerned. She’d hoped his mood might be different on Monday. Mrs. Goodman even tried to cajole him out of his stupor with some of her famous cookies with chunks of chocolate. Still Jimmy sat in complete silence, not looking at either of them. Lillian tucked him into bed Monday night because Woody had been out late digging the irrigation ditch. She knelt by his bed and prayed aloud.

“Lord, please help Jimmy with whatever it is that is bothering him. Help him to know how much he is loved by his father
and Mrs. Goodman . . . and me. He’s so special to me, Lord, and I want him to know that no matter what, he can always talk to me.”

Later she discussed it with Mrs. Goodman. The woman had shrugged her shoulders and said that sometimes little ones pitched a fit. It could even be that the heat was getting to him. Lillian thought to ask Woody about them taking a dip in the pond, but she didn’t know if that would cause problems for the irrigation ditch, so she said nothing.

Tuesday rolled around and the same thing happened. Mrs. Goodman voiced her concern, as well, and said they should give it one more day. The boy had bags under his eyes and had only drunk a little water all day long.

Wednesday morning Lillian went to check on him and found him still in bed. But this time he wasn’t just sullen or depressed looking. The boy seemed sick. He wouldn’t respond to any of the questions the two women asked and stared off into space. The thing that really set Lillian to worrying was the fact that Mr. Whiskers was still in his box.

She and Mrs. Goodman stood at the door as Lillian pulled it closed. “We’ve got to do something. I’m going to go look for Woody. Will you keep an eye on Jimmy?”

“Sure thing, dearie.”

Lillian raced out of the house and headed to the pond. The men had made good headway with the trench but were now digging it deeper at the source. At least that’s what she remembered Woody saying. The man had looked like he practically fell into bed each night and was gone well before she made it to the chicken coop each morning.

The heat was draining, and in her corset and long skirts, she had to walk half the way rather than run. By the time she
reached the pond, perspiration soaked her blouse. She looked around to see where Woody might be working but only found two of his men. “Where is Mr. Colton?”

“He took a horse to town, miss. Two of the spades broke, and we need to finish to save the trees.”

She nodded and headed back to the house. She’d just have to wait until he returned.

But as soon as she reached the back door, Mrs. Goodman met her with wide, teary eyes. “He’s now running a fever, Lillian. And it’s high. He’s tossing and squirming and his breathing doesn’t sound right.”

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