A Treasure Concealed (12 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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

BOOK: A Treasure Concealed
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He gave a sigh and looked heavenward again. “'Course, the Bible burned in the fire.” He sighed again and his shoulders slumped. “I know Nyola's with God now. I know she's out of pain, and that's all I ever wanted.” His voice broke. “But I miss her. I miss her so much, and I honestly don't know what I'm going to do without her.”

Millie Ringgold brought them supper that evening. Caeden couldn't remember ever having black-eyed peas before, but he found the flavor to be quite delicious. Especially given the healthy portions of bacon that had been cut up and cooked with the peas. There was also some corn bread and molasses, as well as hot coffee that Emily made on the newly restored stove. As their appetites were sated the conversation turned to Caeden's impending departure.

“We've enjoyed having you here with us,” Henry began. He toyed with his coffee mug. “I am sorry you had to endure so much. In all this last year we haven't had as many troubles as we've known in just the last few months.”

“I was glad to be here to help. I enjoyed getting to know each of you. Mrs. Carver as well. I won't soon forget this family and
the love that you showed one another. I never believed such a thing really existed until I experienced it here.”

“Surely there are other loving people in your life besides your mother,” Henry countered.

“My uncle is a good man. If not for him, I'm certain I would have turned out worse. I used to escape to his house several blocks away. He always knew the right things to say and do. He usually got me busy with something so I couldn't just sit around complaining or raging.” Caeden smiled at the memory. “He's the only reason I will one day return to Albany.”

“What about your sisters?” This came from Emily, who had been unusually quiet throughout the evening.

Caeden met her gaze. Her chocolate brown eyes seemed to search his face for answers he was somehow hiding. “My sisters are married with families of their own. They really don't need me around.” He didn't add that because they were forced to marry men of their father's choosing, Caeden feared the worst. Seeing them unhappy would only stir up a desire in him to intervene.

“But I'm sure they miss you. Weren't you close growing up?” she asked.

“We were. We were bound together by fear, if nothing else. We used to worry about making our father angry. He thought nothing of hauling off and beating me when I did something he deemed wrong, and with the girls it was only slightly different. He used to hit their hands with a ruler until they were swollen. More than once he slapped them full across the face—even when they were very young.”

“How terrible.” Emily's words were barely audible.

Caeden didn't like the direction their conversation had taken. “It was, but we needn't focus on that. I've made my own way, and they've made theirs. I'm hopeful that they know a better life now.”

“Well,” Henry said, pushing back from the table, “the time has come for me to get back to work. I need to cut some wood. Tomorrow I'll need to bring down some trees. Want to come and help me?”

Caeden smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”

Henry got up and walked to the door. He took up his coat, then glanced back at Emily. “Do you have enough water, or should I fetch you some? Snow's made things slick, and I could save you havin' to make a trip down to the river.”

“I have plenty,” Emily replied. “Don't be too long at it, Pa. You know the temperature has turned pretty cold, and I don't want you working up a sweat and then getting chilled.”

He smiled and waggled his finger at her. “Now, don't go thinkin' that with your ma gone you can boss me around like she did.”

Emily gave a chuckle. It was the first Caeden had heard since her mother's death.

“Not that it ever did her any good,” Emily replied as she began to clear the table.

“Your ma knew what she was gettin' when she married me.” Henry pulled on his coat and then reached for his hat. “She was no fool, your ma. She was never taken in by all my smooth talk and good looks.”

Caeden smiled at this, and from the look on Emily's face she found it just as amusing. “Get on with you now, Pa. I've got work to do.”

Henry laughed and opened the door. Caeden had thought the cabin drafty and cold, but when the wind whipped in from outside he realized the little place wasn't so bad. The wood stove was keeping it quite bearable.

Once Henry was gone, Caeden found himself wanting to speak to Emily about his trip. He didn't know why, but she
seemed to have distanced herself from him since the funeral. Up until then he had thought they were getting along rather well.

She cleared the last of the dishes from the table and put them in a pan of hot water that sat atop the stove. Returning to the table, she nodded toward Caeden's coffee mug. “Are you done with that?”

Caeden glanced down at the half-full cup, then nodded. “I'm so stuffed I can't finish it.”

She said nothing but reached down to take it. For reasons beyond his understanding, Caeden reached out to cover her hand with his own. Emily startled and pulled away so quickly that the mug overturned, spilling the contents onto the floor. Before she could do anything, the bare dirt of the floor had soaked it in, and little remained for her to wipe away.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen,” she said.

Caeden leaned back in his chair. “I didn't mean to surprise you. I suppose I just wanted a few minutes to talk to you . . . alone.”

She looked at him oddly for a moment, then reclaimed her chair. “What about?”

“You. I wondered what you plan to do now.”

For a minute Caeden wasn't sure she'd heard him. Her expression was one of perplexed consideration. “I'm not entirely sure,” she finally said.

“Maybe you should consider heading to Great Falls too. There are probably jobs there you could get. I know you mentioned wanting to go off on your own. I think your mother wanted that for you too. I could arrange something for you. Get you set up in a boardinghouse.”

Emily gave him a tolerant smile. “My mother wanted a great many things.” She got to her feet. “I'm sorry. I really don't have time to talk. I need to get the dishes done.”

“I could help. I know how to dry dishes quite well.” He stood and all but challenged her to refuse his help.

She offered him a little nod. “Very well.” She went to the stove. “There's a dish towel in that box to the left of the stove.”

Caeden went to the box and found the towel. He positioned himself to take the wet dishes from Emily and continued the conversation. “Emily, I know you are probably very confused right now. Give it some time. I didn't mean to suggest you should rush into anything.”

He thought about Mrs. Carver's desire that he should marry Emily and wondered if she had ever told her daughter this. He figured it was likely, but he couldn't know for sure without asking her. Now he wanted to raise the matter but had no idea how to bring it up.

“Sometimes it's hard to know what's right,” he murmured instead.

“Yes. Yes it is.” She handed him a wet bowl, and he dried it and secured it in the box.

Caeden was getting nowhere. Emily had completely shut herself off from him. Finally he gave a long sigh and fell silent. If he brought up the matter of marriage and her mother's wishes, it might only serve to cause more pain. Emily had loved her mother and respected her thoughts and wishes. How could Caeden possibly tell this beautiful young woman what her mother had told him and that she was wrong—that he was not the husband God had sent for Emily? Especially when he was beginning to wish he was.

10

A
n icy rain fell that night, and as sleet hit the roof of the cabin, Emily tossed and turned on her pallet. At one point when the wind picked up, she heard her father get up and go outside. When he returned a few minutes later with Caeden in tow, she realized her father had been worried about him weathering the storm in the tent.

When once again the room was dark and the cabin quiet, Emily drifted off to sleep only to find herself in one dream after another. Some were good and some bad, but when she awoke the next morning, she felt more tired than when she'd gone to bed.

Her father and Caeden were gone for most of the day getting logs to chop into fuel for the winter. Emily made certain there was something for them to eat and hot coffee to drink. She had no way of knowing exactly when they might come inside to warm up and rest, but she wanted to be ready. What she didn't want was to focus any attention on Caeden's impending departure.

Outside the sun was shining, and despite the colder temperatures of the night, the day didn't seem so bad. Emily busied
herself with anything she could. She cleared a path through the icy snow so she could reach the animals. After this she tended the animals, seeing to it that all were fed and watered. She considered moving the chickens into the cabin but decided to hold off. It wasn't that cold yet. She went to check the box in the lean-to, where she had put vegetables prior to the fire. With the weather colder, it made for a nice way to store them. They would no doubt go through those rather quickly, however, and then she had no idea what they would do for food. All the vegetables and berries she'd canned had been in the cabin and were destroyed in the fire. The wonderful supplies Caeden had generously donated and her dried herbs were all gone too. Even her mother's Bible had been lost.

She returned to the cabin and sat down at the crude little table, wondering how they would ever get through the winter. Perhaps she should get firm with her father and insist they move to Great Falls as Caeden had suggested. She could surely get work at a hotel or laundry, maybe even a restaurant. She wasn't a bad cook, so maybe someone there would hire her. But even as she thought about this, Emily knew she'd never convince her father.

“He's such a stubborn man.”

Emily sighed. There was always the possibility of going to Great Falls without him. The idea intrigued her for a moment. Caeden had offered to take her and set her up in a boardinghouse. Once there in the city perhaps she could gain employment and send money to her father to see him through the winter. It was worth consideration. But Emily knew even as she contemplated the matter, it would go no further. She couldn't leave her father just now. Not after he'd lost everything else.

Three days later, Emily awoke early. She knew why. Caeden was going to leave that day. He wasn't leaving them in want, however. He had worked feverishly with her father to lay in a large supply of wood for the winter months. Then yesterday he and her father had ridden to Utica, where Caeden bought an entire kitchen-full of supplies and even a few other much-needed items. When they returned, Emily had been aghast at the amount of goods Caeden had purchased, but she was even more surprised that her father had willingly accepted the donation.

She donned her coat and warm knit hat that Millie had given her and slipped from the house while her father was just stirring. There was no sign of Caeden being awake, as the tent flaps were still tied shut. Emily was glad. She had no desire to see him off this morning. She had set out bread and ham the night before and knew that her father could easily make the coffee when he found her absent. That way she could stay away from the cabin until Caeden was gone, and she would never have to say good-bye.

Emily took up the two buckets she used for hauling water and headed down the path to the river. Her father and Caeden had put together a little lean-to for her father's panning tools. If the cold of the morning got to be too much, Emily figured she'd make her way there and wait until she was sure Caeden had gone. Hopefully no one would bother to look for her.

When she reached the river, Emily turned one of the buckets over and sat down. Here and there ice had formed, but as was usually the case, the river ran free. Jake told her the river wouldn't freeze solid because it was always in motion. She watched the rippling water flow past her, wishing she could flow away just as easily. There were so many questions she needed answered, and yet answers seemed so unreachable.

Mama would tell me to pray.

And in truth she had tried, but for reasons she didn't understand, it only made her feel worse. She was certain her lack of faith disappointed God, and the more she thought of that, the harder it was to pray. And the harder it was to pray, the more confused Emily grew.

Caeden's image came to mind, and Emily chided herself over and over. She had known better than to get close to this stranger. She had warned herself at every turn not to care about him and certainly not to lose her heart to him. So why had she allowed herself to fall in love with him anyway?

No doubt it was just infatuation. At least that's what she told herself over and over, hoping it would ease her misery. Once he had gone, Emily assured herself she would forget him and everything would return to its proper order. Somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to believe it.

Maybe her mother's prayer that she marry Caeden was coming true, despite her best efforts to resist her growing attachment to him. She thrust that thought aside. It was simply impossible for her to believe that God would ever answer such a prayer. Her mother had to have been wrong. A man from Caeden's background would certainly never consider marriage to an uneducated, poor daughter of a failed gold miner.

Tears came unbidden and streamed down her cold cheeks. With her mother dead, the loneliness threatened to eat her alive. She had found comfort in Caeden's presence, but now that would be taken as well. She buried her face in her hands. Somehow, she had to find a way to get through this.

Once she started crying, Emily found it impossible to stop. She cried for her mother's death and the emptiness her passing had left. She cried because of her father's stubborn determination to strike it rich and all that it had taken from her and
Mother. And she cried for all the dreams that would never be fulfilled. Dreams of sewing a wedding dress with her mother. Dreams of a house and a white picket fence. Last of all, Emily allowed herself to weep for the sadness of losing Caeden and the love she would have liked to have shared with him.

Oh, God, please help me to bear this pain—this sense
of loss. I cannot go on under its weight.

“Emily?”

At the sound of Caeden's voice, Emily's head shot up. She met his eyes, then shook her head and buried her face again. She knew he wouldn't just go away, but she couldn't stop crying, even to shoo him off. Why did he always have to find her like this? She had never been given to tears, even as a child. But ever since Caeden had come into her life, it seemed that crying was all she ever did.

Much to her distress she felt him sit down beside her, and when he moved to put his arm around her, it was too much. Emily broke into sobs as he pulled her close. Couldn't he understand that this only made the pain worse? Even so, she couldn't find the strength to move away.

She had no idea how long he held her as she cried. The last few months had been harder on her than all the twenty-three years before. For the first time in her life she felt utterly hopeless. Her body shook hard as she sobbed out her misery, causing Caeden to tighten his hold all the more.

As the tears began to subside, Emily searched her heart and mind for a way to excuse herself from Caeden's arms. She knew he would question her about the tears, no doubt wondering if they were over him. But Emily figured there were plenty of things she deserved to be crying about, and the fact that he was leaving her forever didn't need to be mentioned among them.

She willed herself to calm down, and only then did she realize how tightly she was clinging to Caeden. He felt warm and safe, and while she longed to stay where she was, Emily knew she had put herself on thin ice. She tried to straighten and pull away, but Caeden held her fast.

“It's all right to cry,” he soothed, his voice low, “after all you've been through. Would you like to talk about it?”

Emily attempted to wipe her face on her coat sleeve, but Caeden put a handkerchief into her hand instead. She met his eyes and saw a wealth of concern there. It was impossible to look away. With their faces only inches apart, Emily knew Caeden was about to kiss her. She wanted that kiss more than her next breath, but bells began to clang a danger signal in her brain. If he kissed her, she would be forever lost. He lowered his face to hers.

“Leave me alone!” Emily pushed him away with all her might. Caeden looked at her in shock as he fell off the bucket. “You have no right to . . . to . . .” Her words wouldn't come. “You have no right.” She got up and put some distance between them.

“I'm sorry,” he said, getting to his feet. “I didn't mean to offend you.” He dusted off his backside, still shaking his head.

Emily immediately regretted her angry tone. “It's not important. I'm the one who's sorry. I should never have acted that way.”

“What way? Heartbroken?”

She sobered at the word. If she was honest with him about her feelings, it would serve no purpose. “I miss my mother.” It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the truth of why she'd acted as she had. “But that's no excuse for acting in such a wanton manner.”

His lips twitched, and his expression changed to amusement. “That was wanton?”

Emily crossed her arms. “I've never allowed such a thing to happen. I wanted to shoot Kirk Davies for less. Had I not been mourning my mother's passing and the changes that have taken place, I would never have allowed you to . . . to . . . hold me.”

He took a step forward, then stopped. “You did nothing wrong, and neither did I. I saw you crying and wanted to offer you support. I've come to care deeply about you and your father.”

Emily bit her lip to keep herself from declaring that she too had come to care deeply for him. If she told him about her feelings and how her heart was only now realizing just how deeply she loved him, it would ruin everything.

She chose her words carefully. “I appreciate that you care. I know Father has been very touched by your generous nature . . . as have I. I'm very thankful for what you've done.”

His eyes narrowed, and his usual serious expression returned. “I didn't do it for thanks.”

“Oh, I know that.” She could see she had offended him. Maybe it was for the best. “I didn't mean to suggest you did. You are by nature a very giving man, and we won't soon forget your kindness.”

“No I'm not.”

Emily shook her head in confusion. “What?”

“I'm not a generous or giving man by nature. I'm a hardened skeptic who, until meeting you and your father and even the other people in this area, believed most everyone to be rather self-centered and offensive. So don't applaud me or give me undue praise. I did what I did because you were first kind to me. Your father offered to show me the way to Yogo City and to let me pitch my tent on your claim. He told me I could take my meals with you and never once asked me to contribute to those meals.”

Emily considered his words for a moment. He was clearly upset by her comments and her attitude toward him. She hadn't meant to alienate him.

“I do apologize, Caeden. I'm afraid you just caught me at a bad time. Losing my mother was something I knew would happen, but I wasn't prepared for her to die in an act of violence. Losing everything I owned was something I never thought much of, because I didn't have much to lose. However, it bothered me in a way I hadn't anticipated. I suppose I took more comfort in those things than I realized.” She tried to think of how else she might keep him from even contemplating whether his departure was part of the reason for her tears. “I've never cared overmuch about the possessions, but . . . well . . . I had lived longer in that one cabin than anywhere else. It was as close to a real home as I've ever had.”

“That cabin wasn't your home,” Caeden said, holding her gaze. “You and your mother and father made it a home. If you'd ever once been without them and their love, you'd realize that.”

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