CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (9 page)

             
Of course, this time,
he
might warrant a dunking in the icy creek.

7

             
Charity sat in the wagon, a tattered carpetbag at her feet, and blinked back tears. Sure, Gabriel thought he was doing the best thing, but Charity was just getting accustomed to living here, and now she
had to leave
for a few days. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. She’d be the fastest learner any of these people had ever seen. Within a week, she’d be the finest prairie wife around.
Somewhere, someday, she’d find that “someone” who valued her for who she was.

             
“Meg,” she smiled down at the little girl. “Take care of the garden for me. Sam, help your father so he can make progress on the house.”

             
Gabriel climbed up next to her. “This isn’t forever, Charity. You’ll be back by the week’s end. I’m only trying to make things easier for you.”

             
“But sending me away puts you farther behind in your goals.”
She shook her head. “Forget the floor. It is a selfish idea.”

             
“The floor will only take me a day.”
He clicked
to
the horses. They snorted and plodded down the road. “You act like you’re going to your death. Are the Irish always this dramatic?”

             
“Are you always forthright to the point of rudeness?” She crossed her arms. What a foolish infant she was. Of course, she’d be back. Why couldn’t she let go
of
the fact that all this transpired because of his wager? It couldn’t be undone
, and he meant nothing personal toward her by having made the silly bet
.

             
She glanced out the corner of her eye, noting the way Gabriel’s forearms flexed when
they
worked the reins
, and t
he way his hat shaded his eyes. She sighed. Why couldn’t he have wanted her as a bride in every way?
If she continued to act like a shrew, he’d never want her to stay.

             
His question from the night before sent heat coursing through her face. Obviously, the man would be more than willing to
enjoy the blessings of
a physical
marriage. What man wouldn’t? But what would it do to their agreement to part in a year’s time? Charity wouldn’t sell herself that way, not even for the hunger of feeling a
strong
man’s arms around her.
Divorce was not something she’d cotton to. Leaving things the way they were would allow them to have an annulment
.
She’d coped alone after her pa’s death and could do so for as long as needed.

             
Since Gabriel seemed content to ride along in silence
.
Charity allowed her gaze to roam the countryside. Flowers in a rainbow
of
colors dotted the hills. Aspen
, their white trun
ks shining in the sun
,
stood tall beside the creek they followed. The sky, bluer than anything she’d seen before her arrival in Montana two years ago, almost hurt her eyes with its brightness.
In the distance, mountains rose, kissing the sky.

             
She lifted her face to the warm morning sun and closed her eyes.
Maybe it was time she decided what she really wanted out of life. Gold or a family
?

Why couldn’t a girl have both? She glanced at Gabriel again and nodded. She’d be the best wife he could ever find. She’d strike it rich, and at the end of the year, he’d beg her to stay.

             
“Why do you keep staring at me?” Gabriel peered from under his hat brim. “I washed my face this morning.”

             
“I wasn’t staring.” She turned back to the scenery, content with her
backup
plans for the future.
If Gabriel followed through with sending her on her way, she would survive.

             
“I placed
a
paper
pad
and a pencil stub in
your
bag this morning so you can take notes at the Stoltz
es
’.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
“You seem like a smart enough woman. I assume you can read?”

             
“
Yes, t
hank you.” The ninny. As if Charity was incapable of remembering anything.

She
would love the opportunity to speak with his late wife. Had the man always been in the dark in regards to women as he appeared to be
now
? He meant well, but most of his comments were condescending. Charity had a mind of her own and knew well how to use it, thanks to her parents who insisted she learn to write and do figures. She sighed. He
woul
d learn soon enough.

             
By the time the Stoltz farm came into
view
, a herd of buffalo stampeded through Charity’s stomach. What if they didn’t like her? What if she couldn’t learn the things they taught her as well as she thought she could?
Why hadn’t her mother taught her these things instead of succumbing to Da’s wishes in hiring help?

Money burned a hole in Da’s pocket whenever he won at cards, and he had enjoyed nothing more than showering his “ladies” with finery, almost unheard of for the Irish.

Charity
pressed a hand to
her
midsection. If she was a praying woman, she
woul
d
have
pray
ed
f
or peace about the situation. Unfortunately, God had given up on the
O’Connell’s
a while ago.

             
Gabriel pulled the wagon in front of a sod house that, at least on the outside, matched the home of the Williams
e
s. He set the brake, hopped down, and then strolled to Charity’s side. His large hands spanned her waist as he lowered her to the ground, doing nothing
to calm
her tumultuous stomach.

             
He smiled down at her and took her by the arm. “Relax. They’re some of the most welcoming people you’ll ever meet.
My guess is, Mabel will become your best friend.
”

             
She
allowed him to lead her to the door, which swung open before they could knock. A thickset woman with grey hair pulled Charity into a buxom hug that smelled of yeast and honey.

             
“You’re the prettiest thing these parts have ever seen!
I’ve seen you in town from a distance,
passed a couple of times at the mercantile, and
you are a darling.
I’m Mabel Stoltz
. Y
ou call me Mabel, and I’m very happy to meet you.” Her grin revealed warm wrinkles around her eyes and settled Charity’s nerves.

             
“Thank you for your offer of help.” Charity took a step back before she suffocated in the woman’s embrace.

             
“We’ll have such fun.” She turned to Gabriel, then glanced over his shoulder. “The young’uns?”

             
“Left at home.” He tipped his hat. “I’d best get back to them. It’s not a good thing to leave children alone for too long, and it’s already been well over an hour.”

             
“God speed, neighbor.” Mabel nodded. “And make sure you bring them with you when you collect your bride on Saturday.
I’ve a hankering for hugs from little ones.
”

             
Saturday? But today was only Monday! Charity gulped and stamped down the urge to climb back in the wagon.
Other than doing folks’s laundry, she tended to keep her mouth shut around people she didn’t know, and with the way Mabel went on, talking was going to be an every minute occurrence.

             
“Come meet my groom, Hiram.” Mabel practically shoved Charity through the door.

             
Wood floors!
D
oilies on every surface
, paper on the walls, and not an insect in sight.
Charity’s stomach began to relax. A woman’s presence in a real home. She smiled for the first time since getting out of the wagon. “Your home is lovely.”

             
“Thank you, dear. It ain’t much, but it’s all ours. Hiram, meet Gabriel’s bride, Charity.
If I’m not mistaken from her accent, we’ve an Irish gal here.
”

             
A man as thin as his wife was round, unfolded himself from a rocking chair in front of a stone fireplace. He smiled, nodded, and skedaddled out the door like a cat with cans tied to its tail.

             
Mabel laughed. “He’s shy. Let’s get lunch started and begin your first cooking lesson. What do you know how to make?”

             
“Beans and corn pone.” Charity clutched the handle of her bag tighter. “And eggs. I make right fine biscuits, too.”

             
“That’s a wonderful start.
We’ll begin right away. There
i
s
a
lot to do in the week you’re here.
” Mabel bustled to an iron stove shoved in the corner she used as her cooking area. “I’ve got some chicken left over from last night’s supper
,
so I’ll teach you to make hash. You can do this with leftover beef, too. Set your bag next to those blankets over there.” She pointed to the left of the fireplace. “That’s your bed for the time you’re here.”

             
Charity set the bag on the floor and pulled out her paper and pencil. She’d thought she might have a moment to settle in before getting to work. With a deep breath, she clutched the precious pad to her chest and faced Mabel. “I’m ready.”

             
“You can write? That’s good. I can’t even write my own name.” Mabel chuckled. “We’ll fill that pad with words in the days to come.” She handed Charity a large kitchen knife. “Mince that chicken, over there. Not too fine, and make sure you remove all the bones.”

             
Charity nodded and rushed to do her bidding. While Mabel chattered on like a flock of birds in the aspens, Charity chopped chicken, then onions, and added them with salt and butter to a waiting pan. She straightened. That wasn’t too bad, but maybe Mabel started her on the easy things first.

###

             
Gabe kept the team at a fast trot on the way home, already missing Charity’s presence. She was right. Sending her away would slow him down on building, but he honestly did not think he could eat beans
and corn pone
for the next year.

             
Remembering the pained look on her face when she’d brought up the subject of gambling, tore at Gabe’s heart. Somebody hurt the woman deeply
. W
ithout regard to her feelings, Gabe
had done
the same thing.
Lord, forgive me. Somehow, I’ll make
things
right
.

             
When he pulled into his yard, Sam and Meg pulled aside the oilcloth over the window and peered out. There really wasn’t any way Sam could get a glass window in
stalled
in time, but he had extra lumber for a floor, and planks were definitely better than dirt come the frigid winter.
He should have made such improvements before, for the sake of his children.

             
His shoulders sagged. He had been so focused on
winning
the bet
, that he had allowed other important things, like his children,
to
fall to the wayside.

Meg and Sam raced outside
,
and Gabe noticed how short his daughter’s dress was, rising several inches above tanned ankles. They would need to make a trip into town soon. If they were lucky, they would make two; one when Charity returned and one before the snow fell.

             
After pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his brow free of sweat. The day promised to be a scorcher, and the
y hadn’t had
rain
in
weeks. Maybe laying a floor in the coolness of the sod house wouldn’t be
so
bad after all.

             
H
e climbed from the wagon and unhitched the horses. “Come on young’uns. Let’s get these horses put away and build your ma a floor.”

             
By the noon hour, the three of them had carried or dragged enough lumber to cover the dirt. Once placed, Gabe would sand it, one section at a time. They ate cold ham and stale biscuits for lunch and supper.