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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC014000, #love stories

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BOOK: A Treasure Concealed
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His fists clenched. His father had never done anything to reassure Caeden's mother that she was a good wife and mother. Instead he had been harsh and critical. Always demanding more and more. A low growl escaped him as Caeden fought to put aside his anger. It would serve no purpose now.

Caeden's geological work had helped him reorganize his thoughts and plans for the future. After the death of his father little more than a year ago, Caeden knew that his sisters and their husbands, as well as his uncle Jasper Carrington, expected things to change. Caeden had left home to attend college and had seldom ventured back for any reason. Everyone knew it was because of his father. After his mother had died, Caeden hadn't bothered to return at all, but he'd sent an occasional letter to his sisters to let them know he was alive and well. He hadn't been there when his father passed, nor had he cared to be. Uncle Jasper had caught up with him in Washington, DC, to give him the news and urge him to return to Albany. It seemed that despite their hatred of each other, Caeden's father had left almost everything to him, and everyone expected him to come home and run the family's various business ventures.

But to him that wasn't home. It was merely the place he'd grown up. A house of painful memories and broken promises. He had no desire to ever return to the Thibault estate. In fact, he'd immediately tried to sell the place, but Uncle Jasper had encouraged him to wait at least a year. Now that year was up, and Caeden felt no different about his childhood home.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He turned to see a raggedy and stocky woman where earlier had been youth and beauty. Emily smiled from beneath the wide brim of an old hat.

“I know your father said you tried to disguise your . . . beauty, but I didn't see how that was possible.” Caeden continued to take in the sight.

“But now you can,” Emily replied. “It's hard to wear all of this in the heat of summer, but I have little choice. I've lived in mining camps all of my life, and women are always scarce. If you have any looks at all, you're in for constant attention.” She laughed. “Fact is, even if you don't have looks, you tend to get plenty of attention if you're a woman.”

“So why wear the disguise? If you're only going to get attention anyway, you might as well be comfortable.”

“I have thought that a few times myself. Still, it seems that taking care to hide my figure and face has at least lessened those who come to pester me. Here in Yogo City it's not so bad. Pa's made good friends with what few men have remained. They seem to be a decent lot, but there's always the chance that someone will arrive who isn't so decent.” She moved to the door. “Even so, I'm content to endure. If you're ready, I'll show you around.”

Caeden followed Emily outside. The heat of the day had passed, and in its place had come a pleasant evening with an occasional cool breeze. He knew as well as anyone that once the sun set, the night would actually grow cold.

“This might serve you well,” Emily said, pointing to an area behind the lean-to where Bonnie-Belle quietly munched on dried grass. “You could use the back of the lean-to to cut the wind in case of storms. The river's just down that path about two hundred yards. The water is way down, but it's still crystal clear and cold. Tastes good too.”

A couple of hens clucked and pecked at the ground, while not so far away, another two sat atop their nests on a small raised platform. Emily paused to shoo them inside the small fenced area. “I pen them up at night and let them out during the day. Usually they aren't bothered, but occasionally a fox has been known to come visiting.”

Caeden smiled. “You have quite the arrangement here.”

“I do. On the other side of the house is my garden. It helps to have your own vegetables when the pan doesn't give you much color.” There was a hint of something negative in her tone.

“I suppose it's a hard life,” he murmured.

She looked at him as if he'd grown horns. Her frown lasted only a moment, however. “It can be, but that's just the way it is. I don't suppose we have it as bad as some, and we definitely have it worse than others. A person doesn't always get to have a say over how things will be.” She barely paused for breath. “Do you need help assembling your tent?”

“No. I can handle it. I'm sorry if I offended you.”

Emily shook her head. “You didn't.”

“You sounded upset. Yet not that as much as . . .” He struggled to find the right word.

“Cynical?” she asked.

He met her gaze. Those cocoa brown eyes fixed on him, and her mouth tightened into a straight line.

“Perhaps cynical is the right word.”

She shrugged. “I'm tired and I suppose the worst comes out of me in such a state. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to tend to the garden before I retire for the night.”

He gave her a nod but couldn't help wishing she would stay. There was something about Emily Carver that held his attention as nothing else had in a long, long time.

4

W
ell, if it isn't Jake Hoover. Millie told me you'd be making your way here.” Emily stepped back from the door to admit the smiling man.

“Millie said you'd be up to makin' candles, so I brought you some of the fat from this old bear I kilt.” Jake held up a gunnysack.

Emily wriggled her nose. “I can smell it from here.”

Jake chuckled as he stepped into the house. He hoisted the sack onto the kitchen table and straightened himself while smoothing the sides of his thick mustache. “So what do you have to trade today?”

“I baked you three loaves of bread and two dozen oatmeal cookies. Will that do?” She saw the look of pure joy on his face. Jake loved her oatmeal cookies.

“I'll say it will. I was just telling Hobson—you know he's my friend and partner who runs the Fergus County Bank over in Lewistown—well, I was tellin' him that you make about the best cookies I've ever had the privilege of eatin'. He told me next time I got some, I should bring him a batch, but I told
him they'd never make it all the way from Yogo to Lewistown.” He laughed and slapped his canvas-clad thighs. “Fact is, they seldom make it back to my ranch.”

Emily couldn't help smiling. She was dressed in her heavy clothes but without her hat, and she knew that the forty-five-year-old Jake could have been one of those seeking her favors had it not been for the friendship he bore her father.

“Well, maybe next time you can get Mr. Hobson to come here. After all, since he's a partner in your gold venture, I would think he'd want to check things out.” She went to fetch the bread and cookies. “I put your goods in one of my old flour sacks, but I'd like to have it back if you don't mind. That way I can refill it for you.”

“That's good incentive for me.” He took the bag from her.

“Why don't you sit a bit, and I'll get you a cup of coffee. And maybe I'll throw in a couple of extra cookies.” Emily went to the stove and picked up the pot. “It's still warm.”

That was all the encouragement Jake needed. He pulled out one of the chairs and plopped down, placing the sack of bread and cookies directly in front of him. “So I met that geologist fella who pitched his tent by your lean-to.”

“Caeden Thibault.” Emily nodded as she placed a mug of coffee in front of Jake. “He's studying the area's minerals.”

“That's what I heard. He came to look over our ditch and flume system. He thought it looked mighty well done.”

“Pa has always admired it. It was impressive to see how you could divert water from the upper creek to the lower area where you were working.”

“Cost a pretty penny. Much more money than I'd ever have. If it hadn't been for Hobson and our other partner, we'd never have gotten it done. Now I'm not so sure it was worth it. I mean, there is gold to be had, but not in the abundance I'd hoped for.
Seems I'm always a day late to the big finds, or if I find 'em, I sell out before the big strike.”

“Just like my father.” Emily placed a dish with three oatmeal cookies on the table. She moved the sack of bear meat and fat to the pan she used for washing dishes. “Pa is convinced, however, that there is gold and he will find it.”

“I think there's a good fortune to be had as well.” Jake sampled a cookie before continuing. “Mighty good, Miss Emily. Mighty good.” He ate the rest of the cookie and chased it down with hot coffee before settling back in the chair.

“Frankly, my efforts have turned to disaster. I do better selling meat to the trading post in Fort Benton and the folks along the way.”

“Then why bother looking for gold?” Emily joined him at the table and took a seat.

“For the thrill of it, I guess. And the fact that oftentimes it turns to good. I've made my share of money here and there. I seem to have a knack for finding bits and pieces but never the mother lode, but one of these days . . .” He gobbled down another cookie and again followed it with coffee.

Emily had for so long heard the same stories of glory from her father. The entire idea left her frustrated and more than a little cynical. And try as she might to hide her feelings, even Caeden had picked up on them. “Well, for your sake and ours, I hope you're right. I would love to see Pa sluice out something other than those pretty blue pebbles.”

“To be honest, I've been setting aside some of those blue pebbles that seem so plentiful. I have a feeling they're worth something.” Jake rubbed his whiskered chin. “I'm of a mind that they're sapphires. Not like those ugly green-and-white ones they found up on the Missouri River, but real quality ones.”

Emily perked up at this. “You really think so?”

Jake shrugged. “I figure it's worth checkin' into. You suppose that geologist fella would know about 'em?”

“I suppose he would. Seems if he's studying minerals, he'd know about gemstones.”

Emily tried not to get excited. She'd heard tales of men uncovering everything from diamonds to rubies to gold, and it always seemed the stories were more exaggeration than substance. Even so, she had a tin of the little blue stones sitting in the corner of the cabin. She'd been collecting them since last year, when her father first brought the family to Yogo City.

“What makes you think they're sapphires?” She hadn't meant to ask the question aloud.

“Well, they're harder than just about anything save diamonds,” Jake replied. “One fella in Great Falls told me they weren't nothin' but blue bottle glass, but I know the difference. If your geologist comes around, ask him to take a look at the ones you've found and let me know. I'm not sure but what Hobson will end up sending some to a friend of his for inspection. But if you can get this fella to let us know sooner, that would be helpful. Then maybe we could put our efforts on finding the stones instead of gold and make us a fortune that way.”

Emily shook her head. “Wouldn't that be something, now, if those cursed blue pebbles turned out to be valuable.” She couldn't imagine what her father would think if those rocks that troubled him so much turned out to be his salvation.

“When you've finished your coffee, I'll walk you down to see Pa. He won't be happy if you leave and don't take time to catch him up on all that's happening.”

“Your pa's a good man. I wouldn't think of missing out on talkin' to him.” He drank the last of the coffee, then put the mug down with one hand and picked up the remaining cookie with the other. “I'm ready whenever you are.”

Emily got to her feet. “Let me check on Mama.”

Jake's expression sobered. “How is your ma?”

“About the same. Doctor says she probably won't make it through the winter.” Emily tried to sound matter-of-fact.

She went to the closed bedroom door and opened it just a crack. Her mother was sleeping soundly thanks to the laudanum. Emily closed the door again and crossed to the crock where she'd stored the cookies. “I'd best take a few of these to Pa. He won't care a bit about having more coffee, but he'll feel mighty abused if I fail to deliver him a sweet treat.”

Jake laughed and pushed back from the table. “He's a man after my own heart.”

Emily pulled on her broad-brimmed hat and grabbed a handful of cookies for her father, while Jake took up the sack she'd given him and cradled it like a baby. She would have laughed out loud at the sight had she not held a genuine fondness for the man. She wouldn't want to embarrass him for all the world.

They made their way down to the sluice, admiring the day as they went. Emily was glad the temperature had cooled a bit.

“I think we're in for an early fall,” Jake said. “I've been watchin' the critters. The signs say that fall will come early and winter will come hard.”

“I hope you're wrong.”

“I seldom am,” he said in a boisterous tone. “I know this land like the back of my hand. That's why I'm sure there's a treasure here to be had.”

Emily paused. “Jake, would you do me a favor?”

“You know I will if I can.” His smile assured her of his sincerity.

“Please don't say anything to Pa about the sapphires. I don't want him getting his hopes up. I'll ask him to save me all the pebbles—he usually does anyway. That way if they do turn out
to be valuable, we'll have them set aside. But if you get his hopes up and they aren't worth anything . . . well . . .”

“Little gal, I understand. Your pa may hear rumors about them, but it won't come from me. Once I know for sure, I'll let you know. Either way.”

She smiled and began to head down the path. “Thank you, Jake. I'll have to make you an extra batch of cookies.”

The older man chuckled. “Miss Emily, if I were of a mind to take a wife, I'd come courtin' you.”

She laughed. “Only for my bread and oatmeal cookies.” Emily spied her father and called out to him. “Pa, look who's come to visit.”

Her father glanced up and pulled off his hat long enough to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Jake, good to see you. I wondered when you might show up.”

Pa put aside his tools and motioned Jake and Emily to join him on the ground. The trio sat in a casual manner, and Emily handed her father most of the cookies, saving one back for Jake. He grinned like a schoolboy and snatched it from her hand as if he feared she might change her mind.

“So what's the word, Jake?”

“I was just tellin' Miss Emily here that I think we're in for an early fall. Weather's changin' and the signs tell me it's comin'. Early winter too—probably heavy.”

Her father frowned. “Can't say that's good news.”

“No, I don't suppose it is.” Jake shook his head and gazed out past the sluice. “You finding any gold?”

“Bits, but nothing much. I figure if I work it day and night, I might lay by enough to get us through the winter.”

“So you mean to stay?”

“We did last year,” Emily's father said with a shrug. “I still think this claim is worth workin'. I'm not ready to give up yet.
I kind of like it around here. Not only that, but Em put in a good garden and canned some and dried some. We should be well enough.”

“You might be better to get you some ranchland like I did.” Jake stretched out his legs. “I don't know that it'll amount to anything, but at least it's something to fall back on. I got me a few steers I can sell if things get bad.”

Emily wasn't sure her father could ever find contentment on a ranch. Staying in one place just wasn't in his blood—not only that, but the lure of gold was too strong. Every time a new strike was announced, her father was ready and raring to head out in search of his fortune.

“I think I'd best get back to the house and check on Mama.” Emily got to her feet. “I'll probably have those candles made in a couple of weeks at the latest, Jake. Feel free to check in with me sooner, though, if you're around.”

“I'll do that, Miss Emily. But I'm thinkin' I might make me a trip over to Great Falls. I can lay in some supplies and see the Kid.”

“How's he doing?” Emily's father asked.

“Not too bad. He's givin' his full attention to his art. I figure the name Charlie Russell is gonna be famous one day. Sure a far sight from that scrawny kid I found half starved on the trail. I'm right proud to call him friend.”

Emily smiled. She'd heard Jake's tales of Charlie, or the Kid, as he usually referred to him. She'd even seen one of the sketches he'd done for Jake. He was quite talented, but it was hard to imagine anyone making a living at drawing and painting. Humming to herself, Emily made her way back up the path to the cabin she called home. It wasn't much, and it wasn't pretty, but it was all she had.

Help me to be content, Lord
. It was a prayer she prayed
more and more often. Why did it have to be so hard to find contentment? It didn't help that her mother urged her to find a good, godly man and settle down to have a family. Did Mama honestly think such a man would just appear in the middle of this isolated state?

Caeden had just appeared. She shook her head. He wasn't going to stick around. He had business to do and then he'd be gone. There was no sense in building an interest only to have her heart broken. Emily had been much too cautious over the years to give her heart so easily to this handsome stranger now.

She checked on Bonnie-Belle and the chickens before deciding to take a turn through the garden. A few tomatoes were ripening nicely, and she found herself very impatient to pick them. What a tasty treat they would make! Even Pa would be glad for them. Finding them still not quite ready, Emily decided to give them another day. She looked over the beans, carrots, and potatoes, then dusted off her hands and trudged back to the house. Jake had provided a pleasant diversion, but she couldn't forsake her duties forever. If he was right that fall was about to settle over the land, there was plenty to do.

Reaching the front door, Emily pulled off her hat and entered the cabin. She put her hat up on the peg and shed her coat and the long flannel shirt she'd pulled on over her blouse. She hadn't bothered to put on her duck-cloth pants that morning and felt amazingly free without the encumbrance. Someday she would wear silk petticoats and dainty drawers made from the softest cotton. She'd never again wear anything that even remotely resembled a man's costume. Someday.

Emily went to the kitchen, then felt an uneasiness come over her. She listened, wondering if her mother had called out, but there was only silence. She turned back to the still-open front door. What if Kirk Davies had returned? He was due back
anytime now to make good on his threats to buy them out. She hurried to close the door, but still the feeling lingered.

Unable to ignore the sensation, Emily decided to check on her mother. Fear washed over her. What if she found Mama dead? She drew a deep breath. Sooner or later that would be the case. If it turned out to be today, then she would face it as best she knew how.

BOOK: A Treasure Concealed
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