Sourdough Creek (29 page)

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Authors: Caroline Fyffe

BOOK: Sourdough Creek
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The cold water forgotten, he stood riveted, naked as a jay-bird, not wanting to lose the place where he’d seen the sparkle. The stallion had run right across this spot last night. Maybe his hooves had dredged up something that had been buried beneath the river bottom.

Dropping to his hands and knees, he scanned the area his face just inches from the water. A moment passed and he heard Cassie call his name. He dared not look away for fear of losing the spot. Slowly, he searched the bottom, with its sand and pebbles and its…

Sam sucked in a huge draught of air.

He reached down and wrapped his fingers around something almost completely buried in the sand. Bringing it to the surface he blinked several time. It was a nugget and no mistake. Big, too. Approximately twice the size of his thumb!

Cassie called him again. He quickly stood. Her next move would be to look for him right in this spot.

What if he won the competition today? How long would it take Cassie and Arvid to pack up and go? That was the deal. One would stay and one would go. He’d been pondering this possibility for some days now, trying to figure out a way of keeping her here with him.

“There you are.” Cassie said, coming around the bend in the path.

She spun around. “Sam!” She clapped her hands over her eyes.

Sam closed his palm over the nugget as it warmed to his touch. He couldn’t help the smile that creased his face. Happiness burst within his chest. He felt like singing his news to the world. Instead he said, “Want to join me?”

When she didn’t respond he laughed. “Guess that means no. Throw me that towel and I’ll come out. Is breakfast ready?”

Without looking at him, Cassie tossed the towel over her head in his direction and he caught it, careful not to drop his prize. He fastened the thick piece of cloth around his middle and came out of the water. On shore Cassie waited for him to slip his shirt on, now that he’d dried pretty much by the breeze and early morning sunshine.

“Almost. That’s why I was calling. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yep, I did. I was hurrying so you wouldn’t catch me in my birthday suit, but I guess I was too slow.”

Sam was having a hard time not jumping for joy as he sat, still draped in the towel and pulled his boots onto his naked feet. He’d done it! Secured his future and Cassie’s too, if she’d quit being so darned stubborn and admit she loved him.

He picked up his pants and hitched his head. “Come on.”

They walked up the path side by side. “Well, I got Uncle Arvid out to the bushes and into camp. He seems to be doing pretty good today. The bacon and biscuits are done, and I’ve packed us a lunch for later.”

“Good. Good.” He could hardly contain himself. Think of all the things he’d be able to buy for her and Josephine. It felt like the best Christmas day a person could ever dream of. “Did the coffee get done? I could sure use a cup.”

“Yes. It did. Thank you for putting it on. It’s wonderful to wake up to a nice hot pot of coffee—already brewed.”

Clutching the gold in his left hand, which was the opposite side from Cassie, Sam ran his other through his still wet hair, and smiled down into her bright, doe-like eyes. Her face turned pink.

“What’s the matter?” He couldn’t help but tease her, he felt so good. He glanced at the towel hugging his middle and his legs sticking out of his worn, dilapidated boots, knowing the answer to his own question. His shirt hung loosely around his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I embarrassing you? I thought by now you’d be used to us cohabitating. Guess not, again.”

They were almost back to camp and Arvid was watching them closely. He sat on the log, his eyes no bigger than slits as he tried to read what they were saying to each other.

“Sam, nothing is going on. We’re not cohabitating. We’re camping in close proximity. There’s a difference, you know.”

“There is?”

“You know there is. Now stop kidding me. Uncle Arvid is going to wonder what has gotten into you. I’ve never seen you smile like that before, myself.”

“Let him wonder. Maybe it’ll spur him on to get up and out of that tent and into the river to help you—where he belongs. My gosh, Cassie, you’ve done every ounce of work since we got here. He should be ashamed of himself.”

“He’s hurt!”

“Is he?”

Cassie stopped and took hold of his arm, forcing him to stop too. “Sam, he’s an old man. And he fell hard. It’s a wonder he wasn’t hurt worse.”

“If you want to keep telling yourself that, fine. But I say it’s been plenty long enough that he should either be back up and working, or on his way to town in the back of some wagon. I think you just don’t want to admit that I’m right and you’re wrong.”

She looked over to her uncle and back at Sam. “We’re not going to talk about this right now.”

He could tell that she had the same doubts that he did about Arvid. She was just too stubborn to admit it.

“Let’s get breakfast so we can get going up river,” she said sternly. “I have gold to find. It’s not going to jump out of the river right into my hand.”

Sam turned toward camp, hiding the smile he felt coming on as the nugget almost burned a hole in his palm. “You’re right about that, Cassie. The sooner we get panning, the sooner we’ll end this competition.”

 

 

Chapter Forty-Eight

 

 

S
am worked by Cassie’s side in the warm sun, dismantling the old shack, the rushing river just yards away. She turned the boards over, exposing the nails, so Sam could come along and yank them out, then put them in the saddle bag he had slung over his shoulder. As it grew warm, Cassie couldn’t help but notice each time he paused and undid the next button on his shirt. Soon the garment was unbuttoned all the way and swung open loosely around his muscular body.

The half demolished shack listed treacherously to one side, a hazard to anyone standing close. It looked as if a sneeze from an ant would knock them over. With his hammer, Sam jerked the remaining nails from the gray, cracking wood with ease. She hauled them away from the building, stacking them in the grass.

Early on, Sam had insisted she wear a pair of gloves he’d taken from his saddlebag. Surprisingly they fit her perfectly. He’d said they were his, but since they were too small for him, she should keep them. It seemed highly unlikely to her that he’d waste his money on something so blatantly wrong for him in the first place. Still, after several wicked looking slivers jabbed painfully through the leather, she was grateful he’d had them for her to use.

When the sun was directly overhead, they broke for a noon meal. Cassie wiped the moisture from her face with her shirtsleeve as she fanned herself with her hat, and envied him the casual state of his dress.

“We’re almost done,” Sam said, as he chewed on a piece of venison jerky. He handed her a strip that looked as if it had come from a week-old carcass. “Can you make it?”

Cassie nodded, staring at the venison.

“Don’t you turn your nose up at that. It’s good meat. You’ll be hungry later if you do.”

“So much of the wood is rotten,” she said, putting the meat strip into her mouth before she could examine it further. “Will you have enough for a sluice box?”

“Plenty. We actually have enough now. Soon as we’re finished eating I’m going to use my lariat to tie the boards together and we’ll drag them with my horse. It’ll be slow going on the way back, but we can do it.”

He peered at her, and waved a hand in front of her face. “Cassie? Are you listening?”

“I was thinking how to get Uncle Arvid down to the river for a bath. The weather is pleasant and after seeing you there today, I think it’s just what he needs.”

“If I weren’t such a nice guy I’d take offense at that remark. Seeing me in the river made you think of your uncle!”

Cassie couldn’t resist laughing at his twinkling eyes and teasing smile.

“Actually, that’s a good idea,” Sam continued. “It’s rejuvenating. And after all this time he is getting rather…
strong
.”

“Sam.” Cassie responded, trying to keep the laughter from her voice, “there’s no reason to be mean. You know what he’s been through.”

“In my opinion, he’s a conniving trickster as well as an ol’ coyote, and now he even smells like one, too.”

“I like it better when we don’t talk about my uncle.” Cassie tried to be mad at Sam, to keep her thoughts about him in line, but he was in such a wonderful mood it was impossible. He’d been humming the whole time he was working—that was, when he wasn’t making some sort of silly joke. Talkative on the way over and was now smiling at her like a goofy boy.

She held his gaze as she dropped down onto her elbow, closer to the newly sprouted green grass and looked at him in earnest. It felt good. Her blood heated pleasantly as it raced through her veins. Her gaze roamed over his half-exposed chest, and when she realized where she was looking she felt her face flush.

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that was impossible not to love. His eyes were glistening with happiness as he chewed on his lunch. “What’re you staring at?”

She jerked her gaze away.

“You thinkin’ about that kiss, too?”

“What has gotten into you today? She demanded, exasperated. “Tell me this instant. I’ve never seen you so—”

“Do I have to have a reason to be enjoying your company?” He swung his arm wide. “Look. All this wild, undisturbed land. It’s beautiful and unspoiled. I’ll bet nary a white man has even ever seen it.”

Cassie took a bite of biscuit she’d unwrapped from a blue-checkered napkin. “Someone built that shack, Sam.”

He shrugged. “Good point. But, you know what I mean.”

“You’re telling me this wonderful mood of yours is because of the countryside?”

“Yes! And we’re almost halfway through our month and we’re incredibly close in our findings. What do we have so far, about a half of a vial each? That’s about forty dollars’ worth. A good amount, but hardly a fortune.”

“Maybe, but it proves there’s color in the claim. You getting discouraged?”

Sam lay back in the grass with his fingers laced behind his head. She was sure he was exposing his chest to her on purpose. The curious set to his lips made her heart race and her mouth practically go dry. Turning his head, he looked at her again with that I-know-something-you-don’t know expression that was so puzzling.

“Discouraged?” He winked. “Never. Pass an apple, please.”

 

Sam cinched his lariat tightly around the stack of wood and went to Blu’s side, looking over at Cassie. She gathered up the napkins and her canteen, preparing to leave. He’d been deciding just how to proceed with the nugget. If Cassie knew he’d discovered the good-sized chunk of gold, he risked losing her forever. She and her uncle would have to forfeit their dibs on the claim. She would leave with him—at least, he thought she would.

If that happened, his only true chance at happiness in this lifetime would be gone. He’d acknowledged to heaven, and to himself, that for him, it was Cassie Angel and no other. She was the one he lived for, the one who made his heart happy—even if she was stubborn as a mule.

On the other hand, if Cassie thought she found the nugget, her uncle wouldn’t waste a moment claiming it, and would run him off and maybe even Cassie too. Cassie and Josephine would be left to Arvid’s mercy, and Sam was the only one that seemed to know just how bad that could be.

She mounted up and sat facing him. “Ready?”

Sam made a quick decision. He’d give the nugget to Cassie, someway, somehow, if she wouldn’t agree to marry him. He’d rather it be a wedding gift, but if not, he’d settle for it being a parting gift, unbeknownst to Arvid. That would give her plenty of funds to rely on for years. If that happened, he and Seth would find another way to buy their ranch. But that wasn’t the way he saw this playing out. He was going to win her heart once and for all!

He nodded and swung onto Blu, wrapping the rope snugly around his saddle horn. He squeezed his legs and the mare walked forward until the rope was taut. She hesitated for a moment when she felt the drag, but dutifully went forward when Sam kept pressure with his calves.

The countryside was uneven and in some places quite overgrown. Cassie had to dismount and guide the boards through obstacles of rocks and ravines when they got stuck. She had absolutely refused to switch places with him, saying she’d rather do this than have the rope stretched across her leg. She’d worked up a sheen in her effort, and her cheeks were as red as the apple he’d eaten.

Sam stopped and removed his hat. He ran his sleeve across his brow to soak up the sweat. “You doing okay, Cassie? I didn’t realize this would be quite this time-consuming and difficult. I can see you’re plumb wore out. Let’s take a break.”

Cassie took the opportunity to get a drink from her canteen before remounting. “I’m fine. Just worried about Uncle Arvid. We’ve been gone a lot longer than I thought we would be. He’ll be red hot by the time we get back.”

“Well, if he is, it’s not your fault.” Sam glanced at her to see what effect his words were having on the worrywart. Her eyes were wide as she gaped at something behind him.

 

 

Chapter Forty-Nine

 

 

T
wenty feet up the path, two men on horses blocked their way. Sam couldn’t go for his Colt now without being blown to bits if they were so inclined.

“Howdy,” he called out in a friendly voice.

They were rough and unkempt and Sam couldn’t tell if they were outlaws or miners. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to Cassie.

“Howdy,” the older one returned with a nod of his head. They rode forward slowly. “We heard a commotion coming from this side of the draw and wanted to see what it was all about. What’re you doing?”

Sam felt, more than saw, Cassie ride up to his left side and stop. As he prepared to answer the question, and without taking his eyes off the strangers, he slowly unwound the rope that tethered him to the boards at his saddle horn. He hoped Cassie had heeded his warning and had the Derringer in her pocket. “Collecting some old boards we need for our claim down river. Who’re you?”

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