CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (42 page)

             
“
Y
es, I know who he is.
I know his name.
God use
d
my nephew as a tool to rid the world of a bad man.” Red Feather took Charity’s empty bowl from her hands.

             
“Used?
He’s dead?
”

             
Red Feather nodded.
“Nephew returned while you were sleeping. Jenkins fired a shot at him and
the noise
caused
an
avalanche. You may go home when
the pass is cleared
.
”

             
“I don’t want to stay here.” Tears welled in Chari
ty’s eyes. “I want to go home. Not w
hen t
he pass
clears.
” Her heart sank.
That could be months.

             
“Snow piled high.
You must rest now. God has sent you here for healing. He told me this. That you have much to ponder in your heart.” Red Feather nodded a few times, his feather bobbing.

             
The notion that God might use an uneducated Indian to get Charity’s attention was not lost on her. As the Bible stories her mother told her came back to her, she realized that God used such methods many times.
He intended to use the ill
deeds
contrived by Amos for something good for Charity.

             
Amos intended for the Indians to do harm toward her, yet they healed her, dressed her, and gave her food as if she were a worthy guest. A worthy guest.
Tears
spilled over
. How could she ever have thought herself unloved? God loved her more than any mortal man ever could.
He could give her a contentment gold never
c
ould.
The cross made her worthy of God’s love, and therefore Gabriel’s.

             
Red Feather stood. “You are sad. Time for you to pray.” With those words, he turned and left her.
Babbling Brook sat in a corner mend
ing
a piece of deerskin
. For the moment
,
she was
so quiet it was easy to forget she was there
.

             
Charity lay on her back. Tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks to soak her hair and the furs under her. God was a
G
od of hope. A God of promise.

If not today, maybe not tomorrow, but Charity would be reunited with Gabriel.
Of that she had no doubt. She prayed it would be on earth rather than in heaven.

             
She had so much to tell him. Of her re-acquaintance with God who
had
never g
i
ve
n
up on her; of her love for Gabriel; of her desire to stay as long as he would have her.
More than anything
, she
hoped she
would have that opportunity. Her heart told her that Gabriel was looking for her. How long until he gave up? Would he be able to make it over the avalanche?

             
Two
more
days. She would give him that
long
, then she would go to him.
Not even a fallen mountain would be able to keep her from doing so.
She rolled over, snuggling deeper in the furs.
She would go over the blocked pass or tunnel through it, but go she would.

             
There would be no question of what bed she would sleep in when she returned home. She would ask Mabel to watch the children for a few days, and she would show Gabriel what it was like to be truly married to Charity O’Connell. Her face heated, she smiled, and closed her eyes.

###

             
Amos lay under the suffocating blanket of snow. After being swept from his horse, he had tumbled and slid, finally landing, broken and bleeding somewhere at the foot of the mountain. He knew his moments were numbered.
No man could survive being buried under several feet of snow.
Already, he labored for breath.
His heart beat slowed.

             
Bitterness and anger made poor bedfellows, and Amos had spent too long with each of them. Gabe Williams was the better man. He could have rejoiced over the sight of Amos being swept away, instead he had cried out a warning.
Had he not been in danger himself, Gabe most likely would have rushed to Amos’s side.
Amos doubted he would have done the same.

             
He struggled to move his pinned arm and gave up when pain shot through his shoulder
and back
.
He was in bad shape.
His breath came in gasps now. It wouldn’t be much longer
before he met His Maker
.
He might have ridiculed some folks about their faith, but
now
Amos
pulled from the faith his dear mother had instilled in him
. Thank the Good Lord, that
small amount wa
s all he needed.

He smiled, knowing Maggie’s children would be set for life by the provision in his will.
Now, he could spend eternity with the one he loved.

             
Forgive me, God
.
Welcome me, despite my bitterness, into your arms
.

###

             
Gabe wasn’t much of a man for tears, but his shoulders shook with the sobs he couldn’t hold back. The sight of Amos being buried alive brought to mind Maggie’s death
,
and the fact that Charity might be stranded, or dead, and alone. He pulled her cloak to his lap and stroked
the plush velvet
as Rogue plodded his way home.

             
She had yet to wear the gift, stating it too fine for every day. What if she never got the opportunity? Why did women insist on holding onto nice things for those “special” times?

             
The sun began its descent over the mountain. It would be well past dark by the time Gabe made it home. He reached into his pouch and pulled out the dried.

             
He glanced back.
Could he mak
e it through the pass on foot? He thought again of taking the
children to Hiram’s and Mabel’s then continue looking for Charity
.
Was she even on the other side of the pile of snow?
Lord, show me what to do!

             
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this helpless.
Every instinct told him to brave the pass and find the woman he loved, but responsibility told him to head home and care for the children. God would watch out for Charity or choose to take her home. Either way, Gabe needed to accept His will.

             
The thought brought him up short. It wasn’t that Gabe couldn’t keep his wives safe, it was that God decided it was time to bring them home.

             
Still his heart sat heavy. Charity was the love of his life. He would never find another woman to affect him, or claim his heart, the way she did.
He would spend the rest of his life alone, caring for his children and the homestead that was now fully his. Yet, knowing he no longer needed to meet a deadline in regards to building the house
left him empty.

             
The wind picked up, sending chills down his spine. He pulled his collar up to his ears and hunched in his coat.
H
he wrapped the scarlet red cloak around his shoulders, feeling a bit like Charity was with him.

             
There was no way of knowing whether Charity was in heaven, but Gabe would do everything he could to find out as soon as possible. He would have faith in God’s mercy in the meantime, and have hope.

34

             
Charity could not wait another day. Her leg still throbbed
, despite her four days at the village
, but the burning in her heart to be home and at Gabriel’s side overshadowed everything else.
She wanted to hug the children, pet the dogs, and laugh at the kitten’s antics. She yearned to cook on the stove in the crowded soddy.
She wanted to profess her love and tell her husband of her renewed relationship with their Heavenly Father.

She was willing to forget his lapse of judgment in making a wager with Amos. A wager that was now nul
l
and void.

             
Wrapping
herself in furs
, she
marched out of the teep
e
e
, determined to state
her intentions to leave
to
Red Feather.
The morning sun warmed her face.
Perhaps the pass wouldn’t be too difficult to travel.
She would leave t
od
ay.

             
After she begged Babbling Brook for a bit of food and water, she would make her way over the blocked pass and into the arms of her family.
She had come to learn that Red Feather’s nephew wasn’t his nephew, at least not in the sense Charity would consider him to be. Pledging to wed Red Feather’s niece gave him the title, and since his return after the avalanche, the young Indian’s gaze followed Charity around the village like a dog slobbering after a bone. If she stayed much longer, she feared she would be forced to take the dead girl’s place as his intended.
Just as the cowardly Amos had planned.

             
The young brave, Straight Arrow
,
strolled past
, adorned with intricate beadwork on his chest and feet. His
dark gaze roam
ed
over Charity
, s
izing her up for
his future bride
, no doubt.
She forced her features to remain impassive and wished she
had
asked Babbling Brook for something with which to tie back her hair.
The young man did not seem to understand that Charity was already married.
He took Amos’s word that she was in exchange for the dead girl.
Several times
,
the young man
reach
ed
out and r
a
n his fingers through her red strands
, making guttural sound
in his throat and sending prickles of unease up her spine
.

             
Way too forward, if he asked her, which he didn’t. She complained to Red Feather, but he just stared, perplexed, and moved on about his business. Enough was enough. Charity whirled back to the teepee
, and paused inside the flap
.

             
She had nothing to pack. Her clothes were thrown away the first day
, too dirty and torn to be repaired
. She took a deep breath
and approached Bubbling Brook who sewed beads onto a new pair of moccasins
.

             
“I will be leaving today.” Charity wrapped the robe tighter around her. “And
I
would like to thank you for helping me. I would also like to ask for a little food and water for my journey.”

             
“No. I get Red Feather.
You stay.
” Babbling Brook set aside her work and bustled outside.

             
She spoke English? Why hadn’t she said anything? Communication over the last few days would have been much easier.

             
A few minutes after leaving, Babbling Brook rushed back inside and started bundling furs. “We leave now.
Talk later.
”

             
“
We’re leaving t
o take me home?” Hope lit in Charity.

             
“No.
Men
come.
Take
furs
.” Babbling Brook ushered her outside, thrust
several
furs into her arms, then stepped back as others began to dismantle the teepee.

The usually organized and calm village had erupted into what looked
like
chaos. Women screamed, babies cried, dogs barked, and villagers ran here and there dismantling homes and tossing possessions onto the backs of horses.

             
“Wait.” Charity turned, her gaze raking the village in search of Red Feather. What if the
men
thought she was an Indian captive?
What if they captured her themselves?
They
c
ould take her farther away from Gabriel.
She spotted Red Feather by the chief’s teepee.