A Claim of Her Own (40 page)

“Not
everything.
” His voice was terrifying.

With all the emotional strength she could muster, Mattie looked up at him and said, “I’ll help you get away.”

He chortled. “Oh yes. That’s a wonderful idea. That’s just what Jonas wants. Another taste of the same witch who ruined his life.” He spat at her. “I don’t want
you
, Mattie. I want to
destroy
you. I want you to pay for what you’ve done to me. Not just once, but over and over again.”

“Then take me with you. You can finish with me . . . later.”
Just
let Freddie go.

He was thinking it over. Thank God he was actually thinking it over.

“Go get the mule,” he said. “And no screaming for help.” He pointed the gun at Freddie again. “Hurry.”

Mattie scrambled to her feet. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly get the beast bridled and saddled. When she finally did, it didn’t want to follow her up to her claim. Jonas stood in the doorway watching. Laughing. “I’m getting tired of waiting, Mattie,” he sang out.

Slipping in the snow, she tugged desperately on the bridle.
Please. God. Jesus.
The mule took a step. Then another. Finally they were at the tent. Mattie loaded the bottles into Dillon’s old saddlebags. Once they were in place behind the saddle, she turned back to where Jonas waited. She risked one glance toward where she’d tossed her gun, and with a loud shout, he was on her, screaming, “DON’T—EVEN—THINK—”

He grabbed her shirt-sleeve with his hook and yanked her back inside the tent, throwing her down on the cot with such force that it knocked the air out of her. As she lay there trying to catch her breath, he leaned down to touch her cheek with his hook. His breath stank. He stank. She met his eyes for a moment before glancing over at Freddie again.

Jonas sat back. “You really do care about that boy, don’t you?” His voice gentled. He crooned her name, and then his face changed. Something about the light in his eyes . . . how could they look more evil? And yet they did. Mattie shrank back.
Help me help
me help me.

Abruptly, Jonas stood up. “On second thought, there’s a better way to hurt you now than a little encounter with a hook. Better, even, than making you come with me.” He straddled Freddie’s unconscious body.

It was too much. “No!” Mattie screamed. “Please, Jonas, please . . . God.
NO!”
She charged him, but he tossed her aside. Her head hit the corner of Dillon’s storage chest. Just before the darkness overcame her, she saw Jonas lift and aim the shotgun . . . heard it go off . . . and she cried out to God one last time.

“Mattie? Mattie, wake up.” Someone was cradling her head in his hand, patting her cheeks gently. “You need to wake up now.”

Mattie opened her eyes, but she didn’t believe what she saw.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Here, let me help you sit up.” Freddie lifted her upright. He handed her a tin mug. “He said to give you water when you woke up.”

“He? He who?” She blinked and looked around the empty tent, squinting against the sun streaming in through the open flap.

Freddie sighed. He motioned for her to drink. “Drink.”

Mattie drank. She felt so . . . odd. She kept looking at Freddie . . . remembering . . . trying to make some sense of where she was and what had happened. Hadn’t she seen Freddie . . . heard . . . She began to cry.

“Shhh.” Freddie patted her shoulder. “It’s all right now. Shhh.”

“You . . . He . . . I heard . . .” she blubbered.

“I know,” Freddie said. “There was a terrible man here. An
evil
man. He hit me on the head and then he made me drink something.” He looked around. “But he’s gone now and he won’t be coming back. The angel said so.” Freddie shrugged. “At least
I
think he was an angel.”

“Angel?”

“Yes. When I woke up the bad man was gone. You were laying over there.” He gestured toward the place where she’d fallen when Jonas threw her. “And there was another man untying me. He didn’t have wings, but he said, ‘Don’t be afraid,’ and he put his hand here.” Freddie spread his palm across his broad chest. “I felt so much better after he did that. And then he said not to worry about you or the McKays or anything. And you’re all right, aren’t you, Mattie, and so are the McKays. See?” He pointed out of the tent.

Mattie leaned over then, and peering outside, she saw that Freddie was right. All three McKays were hard at work on their claim. She started to get up. “I owe them for a mule. I should ta—” Her hand grasped the edge of the canvas running along the open flap, but she didn’t take another step. The mule was tethered to the same tree the McKays always used as a hitching post. Frowning, she looked back at Freddie. “But—”

“I told you he said not to worry. He said the mule would come back soon and it did. He said you would be all right and you are. So we won’t worry.” He turned to leave, motioning for her to follow. “But we should get some help and go after that bad man so he can’t hurt anybody else. I wish Deadwood had a sheriff but someone will know what we should do now. Maybe Mr. Underwood or Mr. Langrishe.”

“I . . . I . . .” Mattie crossed to the supply box and plopped down. She took a deep breath, realizing Freddie was right. Jonas was clearly mad. He couldn’t just be allowed to escape. What might he do to someone else?
And why can’t Aron be here to help us?
She forced herself to nod. “Yes. We should get help.” But she just sat there, trying to make sense of things.

Freddie smiled. “You don’t believe there was an angel, do you?”

Mattie shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe
you
.” She smiled up at him. “If there’s one thing I know—and I don’t know very much right now—it’s that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“It’s okay.” Freddie patted her shoulder. “Angels are hard for people to believe. It’s sort of like gold mining.”

She looked up at him. “Gold mining?”

“Well,” he said, gesturing toward the creek, “you can’t see how
much
gold there is, but you’ve seen some and so you believe there’s more. We can’t see God. Or angels. But after today—” He shrugged. “God will dump more faith out. You’ll see.” He grinned. “The angel said you’d want to know that.”

“Know . . . what?” Her mind reeling, Mattie could barely choke the words out.

“About gold and mining and God dumping out faith.” Freddie motioned toward town. “We should go now. If we hurry and get help I bet we can catch the bad man before it gets dark.”

C
HAPTER 23

Give thanks unto the Lord, call upon his name, make known
his deeds among the people. Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him,
talk ye of all his wondrous works.

1 Chronicles 16:8–9

T
hey had been back on the trail for nearly one full day. “Leif! Lars! Pull harder, you beautiful, strong, bellowing, hungry beasts! Pull harder and faster, and I vill give you de best hay I can find and maybe retire you to pasture up nort.” Swede cracked the whip above their heads. The snow was melting quickly, and the problem of deep drifts had been replaced by a more familiar one— mud. Everyone wanted to make as many miles as possible before the thaw created more. And everyone wanted to see Deadwood. But no one as much as she did.

She had made up her mind. She would apologize to Tom, because he had been right and she’d been wrong. And then she would end their partnership, for she had finally come to understand what was at the heart of much of her unhappiness of late. It was Tom. To see him every day and talk over the business together and then to go to bed alone and wake up alone with this horrible yearning in her heart for more could not go on. There were men who could look past tanned faces and calloused hands and thick waists. Garth had been such a man, and she longed for another. A gentle man like Tom.
Not LIKE Tom. You want Tom.
He loved Eva and had befriended Freddie. He fit into their lives like a cog in a wheel, but he wouldn’t want to be part of her life in any other way.

Swede cracked the whip above her team and began again the singsong litany that would keep them moving up the trail. Her voice cracked a time or two, and she swiped at a tear now and then, but as she walked along and breathed the fresh air, she called upon God to help her, and she began to feel better. At least she had decided what she must do. At least she would no longer dangle between reality and hope. Swede sighed. She had survived a broken heart before. She could do it again. With God’s help.

Toward evening of the second day back on the trail, riders appeared on the horizon. They were moving slowly, and as they came close, Swede could see it was only two, with what was probably a string of pack mules.
Miners giving up and going home.
She paid no further attention until it became obvious they were going to intercept the line of freighters. Her first thought was of the shortage of food and how there wasn’t really enough to share. Her second was to repent of her selfishness. And then there was another thought, as she realized who the riders were.

She felt a brief rush of something akin to panic as she looked down at her worn apron, her men’s work boots, her skirt . . . all of them splattered with the mud of the trail. And her hair . . . she’d slept in yesterday’s braids and simply tied a scarf over her head before putting on her bonnet today. Ah well. It was of no consequence. She had already decided how to think about these things.

With a prayer for strength, Swede shoved the bonnet back off her head and watched as Tom English and Aron Gallagher approached. They paused to talk to Red Tallent for a few moments before riding up the line toward her. It gave her time to pray. She had the time, but no words, and so when Tom and Aron rode up she was grateful that Eva waved and screeched, “Ta-ta!”

Tom dismounted and went to Eva, kissing her soundly and laughing when she tugged on his nose. “You’re all right” was all he said as he looked at Swede.

“Yah, sure.” Swede pointed toward the third string of wagons ahead of her. “Jake knew vat to do. He vas vit de Indians once, and he showed us how dey banked up de snow around tepees. Ve vere varm and safe. Never in danger.” She shrugged. “As you can see.”

“Short on food?” Aron Gallagher had remained in the saddle.

“A little,” Swede admitted. “But ve share among us. It vould be all right. Now it vill be better.” She forced a smile even as she thrust her hand into her apron pocket and brought out her pipe. It calmed her nerves to smoke, but then she thought better of it and put the pipe away.

“Well,” Aron said, “I’m going to ride back up and make arrangements with Red about how to handle distributing the supplies we brought.”

Tom handed him the reins to his own horse, clearly intending to walk with Swede.

Presently she cracked the whip and got the team moving, self-conscious about everything she did. As soon as the train was moving again, she said, “I am sorry for de vorry I have caused and for de time I have taken from your duties.”

“Mattie’s minding the store,” Tom said. “Other than the one day a week so she can work the claim, Garth and Company is open as usual.”

Swede nodded. She cracked the whip and called out to Leif and Lars before saying, “Mr. English, I have someting to discuss vit you.”

“And I with you,” he said. “But not here. Not like this.” He paused. “I expect Red will agree to having Aron and me ride ahead a few miles and make camp so we can share supplies with everyone.”

“I imagine so.”

“So I’ll see you in camp in a few hours,” Tom said, and waving to Eva he loped to catch up with Aron and Red.