CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (13 page)

             
Charity was glad Mabel had taught her to knit and quilt. It would give her something to do besides sit and
listen t
o stories from a book
once the heavy snows fell
. Her mother had believed
in God and the Bible. Lo
ok where it got her. Dead from poverty and a broken heart.
Religion wasn’t for Charity. Gabriel could teach his children, but she’d mind her own business and keep her opinion to herself.

             
Sounds o
f a wagon pulling into the yard
drew her away from the stove and
outside
. The Stoltzes pulled up to the barn, Mabel’s arms loaded down with a basket. She waved and waited for Hiram to help her down.

             
Charity grinned and limped as fast as she could to greet them.
She might have grumbled at first about spending a week with Mabel learning skills she needed,
but
now she was thankful for the knowledge and the right to call the other woman ‘friend’.

             
Mabel set her basket on the wagon seat and pulled Charity into a hug. “A month is too long, my friend.”

             
“It is.” Charity waved the children forward, proud of the yellow calico Meg wore.

             
“Did you make this?” Mabel fingered Meg’s sleeve.

             
“I did
, o
ut of one of Maggie’s old dresses.”

             
“You do me proud.
You are a real fast learner.
” Ma
bel
retrieved her basket. “I’ve brought
a few jars of
wild plum jam
and
some
mashed potatoes
. I know you said not to bring anything, but this
jam
is a gift. There will be some left to enjoy in the winter.”

             
“Thank you.” Tears stung Charity’s eyes. When was the last time someone gave her something without expecting
any
thing in return?
“I will save it for special occasions.”

             
“How’s your leg?” Mabel strolled beside her as they headed for the table. “Hiram told me how brave you were during the fire.
I would have fallen to pieces.
”

             
“It’s sore, but I’ll survive.” Charity took a jar of jam from the basket and set the rest under what used to be her favorite aspen tree. “It’s the loss of trees and flowers that pains me more.”

             
“All
those
things
will grow back. A life won’t.”
Mabel swept her skirt aside and took a seat on one of the
crates
. “It’s a miserably hot day. Looks like rain.”

             
“Rain would be welcome.”
Even more so if it would have arrived a couple
of
days earlier.
Charity’s
burn throbbed, and she sat opposite Mabel
, keeping her face composed so her friend wouldn’t guess her discomfort
.

             
“Hiram found something in regards to yesterday’s fire.” Mabel lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Won’t tell me what, but I’m sure he’s telling Gabe right this minute.”

             
Charity glanced toward the new house where the men strolled, heads together. “Do folks around here usually set fires
on each other
?”

             
“Not usually. Land and homes are too precious.” Mabel frowned. “Might be Indians, I suppose. Sometimes they get a bee in their bonnet about the white folks infringing
on what they think is th
eir
s
, but as far as I know, Gabe gets along with most of them.
Has even taught some of them the Good Word.
”

             
Charity’s heart hitched. Indians! Living in
Virginia
C
ity, she hadn’t given them much thought. She scanned the landscape for feather
adorned
savages.

             
“How are you Gabe getting along since your return?” Mabel’s question pulled Charity from her frightened thoughts.

             
“What?”

             
Mabel chuckled. “You and Gabe?” She waved a hand. “It’s none of my business.”

             
“It’s fine.” Charity looked back a
t the men. Gabe kicked a rock and
crossed his arms. “He’s not very talkative. It almost seems as if he avoids me.
I think I make him uncomfortable.
”

             
“Probably.”
Mabel shrugged. “I doubt he’s met anyone like you. You’re as different from his late wife as summer is from winter. Speaking of winter, he won’t be able to avoid you then.”

             
“Maybe not, but come late
s
pring, he’ll
still
send me away.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that Gabriel Willliams is a man of his word.
”

###

             
“A tobacco
tin
, you say?” Gabe cl
e
nched his fists. He knew who carried one of those. A lot of men, but he’d bet his money on just one. “Does it happen to be gold with black lettering?”

             
“Yep.” Hiram pulled a scorched
tin
from his pocket. “Mean anything to you.”

             
“It might.” Gabe took it and
folded his fist around it
. “Amos
Jenkins
. The man’s trying to run me off my land.
Since
I got married
and I’m making progress
, he thinks he can burn me out.” He patted one of the house’s timbers. “But I’m ahead of schedule. Once I get the outside finished, I
can
work on the inside when the snows hit. I’m winning that bet, no matter what.” He wouldn’t let some lowlife scoundrel take away all that was important to him.

             
“Careful you don’t let that desire affect other more important things.” Hiram
nodded
toward the makeshift table where the women s
a
t. Sam and Meg bounded across the yard, Patches scampering behind them, and joined the women.

             
Gabe should get them a dog. A dog would be a good warning signal, and a better playmate than a cat.
But dogs needed companionship and food. A cat could hunt for mice.
“Nothing is more important than my
children
.” Or Charity for that matter, but he’d worked too hard on developing his land to let a wager made in a fit of anger ruin everything.

             
“Sounds to me like you need to have a serious conversation with God.
Have you ever stopped to ask Him what He wants for your life? Maybe you aren’t meant to stay here.
”

             
“Of course I am. This is what I’ve worked my whole life for. It’s what Maggie wanted.” How could Hiram suggest such a thing?

“Maybe so. At least think about it.”
Hiram rubbed his belly. “We going to eat soon? My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”

             
“Sure. Let’s keep our suspicions about the fire between us, all right? I don’t want the women to worry.” Or Charity to think she needed to go investigating. The woman seemed to have
more
curiosity
than
that kitten she found.

             
By the time they joined the women, Charity was limping out
from the soddie
, loaded down with the pan of ribs. Gabe rushed to her side and relieved her of the heavy burden. Why wouldn’t she listen to reason and take it easy on her leg?

             
“Don’t scowl at me,” she warned. “You were busy, and I wasn’t going to ask our company to fetch it.
‘
T
wouldn’t be proper.
”

             
“Then you should have called for me.” He shifted the pan in order to get a more comfortable grip.

             
“You were deep in conversation.” She planted her fists on her hips and tilted her head to scowl at him. “Was it about the fire? Mabel thinks Indians might be the culprits.”

             
“It wasn’t Indians, and you women don’t need to worry yourselves.” Gabe marched to the table and set the pan in the center.
Dishes of mashed potatoes, cornpone, and an apple pie filled the rest of the
space
.

             
“No, of course not. We should only concern ourselves with the house and children.”

             
“Exactly.”

             
Mabel frowned, Hiram paled, and the children’s eyes widened. What was wrong with everyone? Why was it that Charity took offense at everything Gabe said? For centuries men and women had
defined roles in the household. It’s how God ordained thing, right? Y
et
Charity
acted as if it were all new. Something he made up.
His Ma had seemed content in her role. Weren’t all women the same? Maybe he needed to rethink things.

             
He stormed to the
barn
and grabbed his Bible
from
the
work bench he had left it on
. They could all use a little of God’s word.
He took his seat at the end of the table and laid the worn leather book on the wood planks. “I thought we’d celebrate today with verses explaining what freedom really means to us.”

             
Charity plopped into her seat at the other end of the table and
focused on
her hands. The rest of them stared expectantly at Gabe. One day, he’d ask Charity what she had against God. He opened the Bible.

             
“Psalm 119:45 says I will walk
at liberty
, for I
seek
your precepts. Isaiah 61:1 says He has sent me to
heal
the brokenhearted, to proclaim
liberty
to
the captives and
the opening of the prison to those who are bound
. Romans 8:21
because
the creation itself
also will be delivered from the
bondage
of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God
.” He glanced at those listening.

             
“I believe that
,
although America earned her freedom from England, we have more freedom through Christ than we could ever obtain from a bullet shot into an enemy. It’s the blood of God’s son that gives us the freedom we celebrate today.”

             
“You ever thought of taking up preaching?” Hiram asked. “You’ve a knack for it, even if you are a mite short
-
winded.
Those are the exact reasons we ought to be celebrating today.
”

             
Gabe shook his head. “God hasn’t called me to minister to any other than my own family.”
And one red-headed woman who still hadn’t looked up from her cl
e
nched hands. Maybe she pondered his words and would, in time, ask God to release her from the chains that bound her. “Let’s eat. Hiram, would you say the blessing?” Gabe held out his hands
,
and they joined in a circle.

             
“Lord we ask for your blessing on this food and on the hands that prepared it. May we enjoy a day of fellowship as we celebrate freedom earned through your Son
and through the men who won our victory over England’s tyranny
. Amen.”

###

             
Charity plunged her hands into the washbasin, thankful the water was hot enough to blame for the flush on her face. Freedom, indeed! A woman wasn’t free in today’s world. They were left to the whim and supposed protection of men. The only way Charity could really be free from her troubles was to strike it rich.

             
Her shoulders sagged. As if that w
as
going to happen. Two months living where the gold was within reach, she just knew it, and she had yet to find time to pan for it.

             
“What’s got you all in a dither?” Mabel set a stack of plates next to the basin.