CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (38 page)

             
“You don’t want your own things?” He studied her face.

             
She sat. “Of course. Every woman does.”

             
“You’re avoiding the subject, Mrs. Williams.” He waved his fork at her.

             
Must he tease her so? She didn’t want to dwell on what would happen in a few months. She wanted to enjoy the day. Fine. She would play along. “Next Christmas you can buy me the finest set of
c
hina in Montana.”

             
“It’s a deal.”

             
She
smiled
. She definitely enjoyed the light-hearted, happy Gabriel to the sullen one focused primarily on winning a bet. There was still hope that over the long winter months, her husband would fall in love with her. “The snow is coming down harder.”

             
“Won’t be pleasant taking care of the animals later, but at least it ain’t a blizzard. When we get one of those, you can hear the wind howl down the chimney. Even a sod house doesn’t stay
completely
warm in a blizzard.” He cut into his pancakes. “I remember once, we all had to sleep in the same bed to stay warm.
It wasn’t safe to have a fire. Thankfully, t
hat isn’t common, though.”

             
Gracious, she hoped not. She wouldn’t get a lick of sleep if she shared a bed with Gabriel.

             
The day unfolded just as she had envisioned. The dogs lay under the table, Meg and Sam played in front of the fire, and Gabriel and Charity sat in their favorite chairs while he read and she crocheted with rose-colored yarn. If Charity were an artist, she would sketch the image to keep forever. Maybe even frame it
to adorn a future wall
.

             
She laughed at her fanciful thoughts
, and wondered whether she would ever have a permanent family of her own
.

30

             
The year 1869 came on the skirts of a snowstorm.
Not the slight flurries that ushered in the end of 1868, but a bone-chilling blizzard.

Charity wrapped her sweater tighter around her and
untacked
the oil cloth
from the
window
in order
to see exactly what the storm was doing outside
. Despite the blazing fire in the fireplace, the room was chilled by a wind that sn
eaked
under the door and blew hard enough to find its way through the
window covering. She tacked it back in place
.

             
The warm glow of Christmas seemed months past. Tempers flared from the four humans and three animals
confined in the small space
. Many times Gabriel threatened to banish the animals to the barn. Charity shivered. How could anything stay warm out there?

             
“The weather is only going to get worse.
I thought as the day progressed, maybe the storm would lessen. I suppose it won’t.
” Gabriel tugged on his boots. “I’d best care for the livestock now
before it’s pitch dark
.”

             
“A body can’t see out there
as it is
.” Charity faced him.
“Will the lantern work?”

             
“I’ll keep a good hold of the rope. I’ve done this
many times
before.
I’ve a lantern in the barn.
” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Keep the children
and dogs
indoors.”

             
She nodded. A few times since Christmas, Gabriel had given her small tokens of affection, like
now. The gestures gave her hope that maybe he would love her enough to ask her to stay. “Be careful.” She wrapped a scarf she had made him tightly around his neck, mouth
,
and nose.

             
“I will,” he mumbled through the yarn. “I
’
ll be as hungry as a bear when I’m done.”

             
“Supper will be waiting.
Venison stew
with vegetables from our garden
.
” She watched him go, then swept away the snow that had flown in when he opened the door.
She sat at the kitchen table and called the children away from their toys. They could squeeze in time to practice their sums.
She turned up the lamp and slid a slate and slate pencil to each child.

             
“One hour, that’s all I ask.” She grabbed her mending to keep her hands occupied while they worked
, and to keep her mind off the storm raging outside
.

             
Time passed. Slate pencils scratched across slates. Charity’s knitting needles clacked a steady rhythm as she worked on a new shawl, having set her mending aside over an hour ago.

             
A crack ricocheted.
Possibly
a tree branch breaking .

Charity jumped and met the frightened gazes of Meg and Sam. Enough was enough.
Over an hour
and
there was
no sign of Gabriel. She would have to go look for him. What if he were lying in the snow somewhere
,
freezing to death
? The sun
would set soon
and the temperature would drop fast. She could not sit back and do nothing.

             
“All right, children. I’m going to the barn to help your father so he finishes the chores quicker.
It’s taking much longer is this horrible weather.
” She stood and buttoned her sweater, then slid her arms into her coat, feet into boots, and covered her head with a wool scarf. “If we’re not back within
—a
”
S
he glanced at the mantel clock
and pulled on a pair of gloves
. “Thirty minutes, eat without us. We’ll be back soon.”

             
Meg grabbed her sleeve. “No, Ma. Pa said to stay here.”

             
“It
does
take longer to do chores in the winter,” Sam added. “Wait just a little longer.”

             
Charity peeked out the door. The wind had increased, filling the world with whirling white. Staying put just a while longer sounded like a wonderful idea, except for the nagging feeling that something was horribly wrong.

###

             
Gabe removed his gloves and stuck his hands under his arms in a futile attempt to warm them.
His breath plumed.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this cold, or been in a blizzard this severe. Sure, it snowed in the Montana mountains, but this seemed excessive.

             
“Well, boy, hopefully, this will keep you warm enough.” He tossed an extra saddle blanket over Rogue’s back then moved to do the same to Charity’s and Sam’s horses. There wasn’t anything he could do for the cattle. They
were
grouped by a thick stand of trees
that h
e prayed would be enough
to cut the worst of the wind
. He certainly did not want to brave the weather to check on them again. Once was more than enough. He had thought the wind would blow him right out of his boots
, and the hike
to the corral, battling the fierce wind,
had taken over an hour
.

             
He opened the barn door
and
stared into
the increasing snow
. Visibility was nil. The howl of the wind rivaled a pack of wolves.

             
It would be foolish to go outside right now, even using the rope to guide him back to the house.
Not with the strength of the wind.
He settled on a hay bale as close to Rogue as the horse would let him
,
in order to use the animal’s body heat
, and prepared to wait.

             
Charity and the children would be frantic, but not as worried
as they would be
if he were lost in the storm.
Maybe he could signal them somehow. Would they be able to see a lantern
’s light
through the swirling snow? It was worth a try.

             
After several attempts to get his frozen fingers to work, he managed to light the lantern and hung it on a hook outside the door. The glass dome protected the flame from the wind,
but
for how long, Gabe didn’t know.
He settled back on his hay bale
and leaned against Rogue
.

             
The animal was so warm. Gabe was tempted to hunt down the barn cats and stick them in his coat. Their bodies would put off heat, but the things were so feral, they’d most likely claw him to death.
They weren’t anything like their cuddly sibling Patches.

             
He shivered and second guessed his idea of remaining in the barn. Supper should be waiting on the stove for him. A thick venison stew that would stick to a man’s rib
s
and warm him all the way to his toes. Yep, Charity had turned into a right fine cook.
She didn’t seem to spur
n
his affectionate gestures either. Yep, things were looking up for them.

Lord, don’t let
her
do anything foolish
. Like come to look for him.

###

             
This was the craziest thing
Charity
had ever done. But after another hour
without Gabriel
, even the children were worried.
She couldn’t take another minute of their puppy dog glances.

Her
eyes watered from the cold. The wind found its way through her layers
of clothing
and bit at her skin
with razor teeth
.
She could barely feel the guide rope through her gloves.
Maybe she should go back. S
he had to be at least half way to the barn by now.
It made more sense to continue forward where s
he could find Gabriel, warm up, then make the trek back with him.
Was that the glow of a lantern? Surely, Gabriel wasn’t still outside in this.

             
Oh, what if he w
as out
with the cattle? Charity stopped and glanced around her.
In this world of all-encompassing white, s
he had no idea which direction th
e corral
was.

             
She was so cold, her bones rattled. She glanced behind her and in front of her, torn about which direction she should go. Fetch Gabriel, or go back and sit by the fire?

             
A wolf howled, or was it the wind?
The storm seemed to increase with each passing minute. Charity drowned in a sea of white, blind to the world around her.

A sharp gust tangled her skirts around her legs. She slid and fell. The rope! She would never find it now. She climbed to her feet and, with hands outstretched in front of her, she shuffled to where she thought she had seen the lantern light.

             
She was going the wrong way. Surely she should have reached the barn by now. Charity switched directions. She stumbled and fell again. The wet snow dampened her skirts causing her to shiver harder. Would she die
mere feet from
her own home? Frozen to death in a snowstorm? Oh,
how
that would devastate the children.

             
She had to make it. For their sakes. They couldn’t stand to lose another mother.

             
Something crunched under her boots.
Ice covering t
he creek? She turned around again, hoping she headed toward the house this time. Surely, a person could only go in circles so much before running into something familiar, right?

             
She blinked back tears before they could fall and soak into her scarf or leave ice tracks on her cheeks. There had not been a time when Charity could remember being this frightened. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?”

             
If nothing else, walking kept the blood flowing. She ducked her head against the wind and continued
, increasing her pace
, occasionally shouting out a cry for help
.

###

             
Gab
e
jerked awake. Was that a cry for help? He leaped to his feet and made his way to the door. Struggling against the wind, he finally got it open, and strained to hear the sound again.
“Hello? Is there someone out there? Charity?”