CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (16 page)

###

             
The rain stopped by the time Gabe and Sam finished
placing
the sandbags. Gabe glanced at the mountains.
The sun set behind lavender gray clouds
that were
pregnant with the promise of more moisture. The air felt heavy enough
that
a person could grab hold and wring out the water.

If the rain
quit
up
in
the
mountains
too, they ought to be able to escape flooding
down
here. He laid a hand on Sam’s head. “You did the work of a man today, son
.
I’m mighty proud of you.”
Sam worked too hard for a child
. M
aybe Charity was right
by stating
the children need
ed
to play more, but life was hard on the prairie. Everyone needed to do
his
or her
share
and then some
.

             
“Do you think
this m
a’s going to die like the last one?” Sam frowned, his eyes worried.
“Because if she does, I don’t think you should find another one.”

             
“I don’t think so, but we’ll head in now, dry off, and get some coffee going to warm everyone up. What
do
you think about that?”
It bothered Gabe that Sam didn’t seem to miss Maggie much. She hadn’t been the most affectionate of wome
n, but she’d loved her children, and he was old enough to remember her.

             
“She looked really bad when you brung her home.” Sam didn’t appear to
be
mollified easily. “Real white.
I like her. She’s funny
and gives me lots of hugs
.
”

             
Gabe
clamped his lips tight
. How could he reassure his son when worries of his own threatened to swamp him? Maybe he should have stayed in the house instead of rushing outside to check for flooding
. B
ut Meg would have come running if Charity needed him, right?

             
He wasn’t used to playing doctor. Sam and Meg were rarely sick, or hurt, for that matter. God had certainly blessed them all with good health
, but Charity looked frail
.
Pale as a cloud
and thin as a flower stalk
. He sighed. And as beautiful as a summer day.

             
“Come on, son. Let’s go in.”

             
He froze in the doorway at the sight of Charity and Meg, asleep, cuddled together in the rocking chair. If he was a drawing man, he would have put pencil to paper and sketched the image to keep it with him always.
Something to pull out and look at, e
ven after Charity left.

             
The fire set her in shadows, highlighting her hair
with scarlet and gold
. The quilt draped off one
shapely
shoulder, showing the thin nightgown she wore
and setting his imagination into overdrive
. Gabe tore his gaze away. It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on her assets or what could be. Although
she was
good to the children, Charity didn’t show any signs of wanting to stay. Her goal was to find gold and skedaddle to the nearest city. Gabe had no idea what he would tell the children when the time came. More and more he second-guessed his motives, and wisdom, for marrying Charity.
Not the wisest decision he’d ever made
, e
specially since he didn’t seem capable of keeping wives alive.

             
Gabe moved as quiet
ly
as
he could while
wearing boots on a wood floor, and set a pot on the stove for coffee.
“Sam, I think there’s a little cocoa left in that tin. Hand it here
,
and I’ll make some hot chocolate for you and
your sister
. Then
you
go change into dry clothes.”

             
“What about you?” Charity stirred, pulling the quilt back into place
, her voice raspy from sleep
. “You must be chilled.”

             
Gabe hurried across the room to take Meg from her lap.
His hand brushed Charity’s hip and caused his
pulse
to soar.
“How are you feeling?”

             
“Better. Meg helped warm me.” She smoothed an errant curl from Meg’s face. “I’m hungry, too.”

             
Gabe laid Meg on the bed. He would wake her when the chocolate was fin
ished. “I can heat up some left
over biscuits.”

             
“With some of Mabel’s jam
, please
.” Charity stood, her toes peeking from under the hem of her nightgown, and shuffled to the table.

             
Gabe’s heart lodged in his throat. “I should change.” He slipped behind the privacy quilt.

How would he make it through a long winter in close proximity to Charity
?
Maybe he could request
that
she keep her hair Then he wouldn’t be tempted to bury his face in the silky strands, or run his fingers through the length of it. Those mesmerizing green eyes were temptation enough.
He would insist she keep shoes or socks on her feet, and wear a thicker nightgown. A man could only stand so much.

             
In dry clothes, he returned to the stove. Charity ran the tip of her finger
along
a groove
in
the table
, seemingly deep in thought
.
What ran through her pretty
head
? Was she counting down the days until she was “free”?

             
“I’m sorry.”

             
He had to strain to hear her. “For what?”

             
“Endangering the children.” She lifted shimmering eyes. “I’d already checked our creek for gold and thought we could have an afternoon of fun
farther upstream
. I didn’t realize the danger of rain in the mountains.”

             
Gabe measured the coffee, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Her and that infernal gold!
“Why are you so interested in finding gold? If there’s something you need, I’ll—”

             
“I won’t always be here.” Her voice trembled.

             
He took a deep breath. “I won’t let you
leave
empty handed. Besides—
” he swallowed past the boulder in his throat. “You saved Meg’s life today
,
from what Sam says. I owe you.”

             
She jerked. “You want to pay me for saving Meg? What kind of woman do you take me for? What kind of
person
?”
She stood, her knuckles white where she gripped the b
lanket. “Drink the coffee alone.
I’m
warm enough now
,
and
I’m
going to bed.”

             
No, he didn’t want to pay her for saving his daughter. Although it was becoming a common occurrence, it seemed
, with the horse on the day they met and now the flood
. No longer in the mood for coffee, he covered the pot and glanced toward the children’s beds. Fast asleep. He removed the water from the stove.

###

             
Hot tears stung Charity’s eyes. She turned her head to gaze on
Meg’s
sleeping face, barely discernible through the deepening dark in the house. How could Gabriel suggest she wanted money
for
caring for Meg? Her daughter? At least for a time.

             
He’d said many careless things over the weeks they had been wed, but this one hurt the most. Even more so when she realized he had no idea
that
what he
’d
said hurt her. Dense man.

             
She heard him ready for bed on the other side of the hanging blanket. A shiver skipped down her spine, reminding her of the day’s events. How would it feel to snuggle against Gabriel? He gave off heat
when he stood next to her
. Sleeping would only make his body heat increase. Charity rolled tighter in her blankets.

             
He had pulled her from the creek as if she weighed no more than Meg. Charity had felt safe in his arms, and discovered she liked the feeling. For once, she wished she had learned the practice of flirtation while growing up. Surely, Gabriel hungered for a woman’s presence in his bed. They were married
, after all. It wouldn’t be immoral
. If Charity were a devious woman, she could easily make it
so tha
t
an annulment was impossible.

             
Sighing, she rolled to face the wall, the scent of damp dirt filling her nostrils.
She couldn’t deceive him that way. Not with the way her heart soften
ed
toward him
more each day
. She blinked against the escaping tears. She’d lost the meager amount of gold panned that day and would have to start again. One obstacle after another reared in front of her, preventing her from achieving a sense of peace
or accomplishing her goal
.

             
Wait, Mabel said. But for how long? How could Charity manage being cooped in a one-room house with Gabriel through the winter? She was no stranger to Montana’s brutal snow storms. They could be snowed in for days, weeks even.
With nothing to do but stare at each other.

13

             
Charity gathered the blankets off the bed and dragged them outside to be washed. She still didn’t follow the schedule set in place by Gabriel’s late wife, instead choosing to do chores as they needed to be done, but the work never ended.

She smiled.
Why didn’t that bother her? After all, she’d married Ga
briel hoping for an easier life. I
nstead, work
had
increased if that were possible. Cooking and cleaning for a family was
far
more satisfying than cleaning for strangers
, and there were hugs to be had at the end of the day, even if they weren’t from her husband
.
After two years of solitary living, a family filled an empty spot in her heart and gave Charity purpose.

             
Hammering filled the a
ir
, drawing her attention to the new house. Gabriel
knelt on freshly placed decking boards
and laid shingles.
She
looked away before she dropped the blankets.
How could he sit so high off the ground?
What if he lost his balance
?
She’d become a widow before she really became a wife.
She would need to keep a close eye on Gabriel to keep him safe.

             
She dropped her bundle into the hot water and shaved off some soap. The children’s voice
s
came from the barn
, happy while
they worked on
their
chores. A peaceful day. Charity lifted her face to the sun.
After her chilly dunking in the creek
a few days ago
, she’d never complain about the sun’s heat again.

             
Opening her eyes, she headed back to the house for more laundry. As she st
ooped to gather Sam’s and Meg’s clothing
from the floor beside their beds
, a shadow blocked the door. She
straightened and
turned. A
n
Indian ducked under the door frame, staring at her with black expressionless eyes.

Charity choked back a scream
and dashed around the table. She grabbed a knife from the counter and clutched it in
her
sweaty hand. “Go away! I’ll cut you. I mean it.”

             
The Indian placed a hand on his bare chest. “I Red Feather.”

             
“I don’t care who you are. Go away.” Her
voice rose
to a shriek
as her
gaze traveled over buckskin britches, a bronzed chest, and up to long braided hair adorned with a single eagle’s feather with a red painted tip.