HisBootsUnderHerBed (13 page)

She stormed away and began to fold her clothing.

Garth came over to her. “Rory, let’s sit down and discuss this calmly and quietly. I have something I have to tell you.”

“It’s settled, Garth; you know how I feel.”

“It’s not settled. Can’t you see that stubborn old man has no intention of leaving? You know your father better than I do. Is there any way we can convince him to leave?”

“Not in the mood he’s in now. I’ll try to talk some sense to him in the morning.”

“Can he be bribed?”

She laughed. “I think Pop could be bribed to do just about anything except commit murder.” Rory looked askance at him. “Although he might make an exception in your case.”

He expelled an audible sigh. “No doubt. Why does he dislike me so much? I usually get along with anyone. I’m beginning to take it personally.”

“You intimidate him. He doesn’t make friends easily, and we move around so often that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. The other thing is, he’s convinced…I mean, he feels your intentions toward me are…Well, you know how fathers are when it comes to their little girls.”

“I can’t fault him for that, but it would be easier on all of us if his protectiveness wasn’t so selective. Just the same, what I have to tell you concerns him, as well. It will soon be dusk, so let’s eat and get you settled in here properly for tonight at least.”

While Garth skinned and cut up the rabbit he had trapped, Rory dug beans, an onion, and salt and pepper out of her pack and got them cooking on the fire.

Paddy quieted down, content for the moment to drink from the whiskey bottle he mysteriously produced. By the time they ate their meal and cleaned up the dishes, it had turned dark.

B
efore we bed down, I want to bring up what’s on my mind,” Garth said. “Rory’s accident proved to me that I should have told you the truth earlier. That fall could have been fatal, and it would have been my fault. I’ve been dishonest with you. I knew that mine wasn’t Uncle Henry’s.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Pay him no mind, daughter,” Paddy said. “The man’s trying to get rid of us so he can mine it himself.”

“Pop, I’d like to hear what he has to say, so be quiet and let him finish. Why do you think it’s not your uncle’s mine, Garth? His initials were on the stakes.”

“I believe those are the initials of Herbert Forsen, not Henry Fraser.”

“Who’s Herbert Forsen?” Rory asked.

“According to Father Chavez, the nearest claim to Uncle Henry’s mine was filed by a Herbert Forsen fifteen years ago. No one has seen or heard from the man since then. I think you might have spent last night with him, Rory. He must have had the same kind of accident you did, and probably broke his neck in the fall—or died of thirst in that pit.”

Paddy scoffed. “And just how would you be knowing that, Mr. Fraser?”

“I have no way of knowing, or if you would have found gold there, but I
do
know it wasn’t my uncle’s mine. I’m no geologist, but I think that perhaps for hundreds of years dirt kept washing down from above and started to pile up there. If you remember, there was no solid rock base or rock formations. The mine had just a lot of dirt piled on top of itself. That could explain the soft pit holes, and why you weren’t seriously injured when you fell, Rory. Forsen may have had a previous minor fall, which would explain why he shored up the walls and ceilings. It didn’t help the floor though, did it?”

“This is all becoming clearer to me by the moment,” Rory said. “I’ve been wasting my time trying to find gold there.”

Paddy started chuckling. “You see, darlin’? Didn’t I warn you? The man’s trying to convince us the mine’s dangerous and worthless.”

“Pop, what he’s saying makes sense. But, Garth, then the same could be true of your uncle’s mine,” Rory said.

Garth shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Garth pointed to the thick foliage. “My uncle’s mine is right there. It wasn’t until I saw this waterfall that I figured this out. It was never on the map Uncle Henry drew, which made me wonder why. He deliberately left it off, in the event the map fell into the hands of a scoundrel like you, Paddy.”

“But where’s the opening to it?” Rory asked.

“Come with me; I’ll show you. This high foliage conceals the crack in the wall. The waterfall is such a distraction that apparently no one pays close attention to what’s nearby.”

Once inside, Rory looked around in awe at the size of the cavern. “I can’t believe it. You can stand up straight without even having to bend your head.”

“That’s right. I even bring Boots in here at night. You’ll be sleeping under a roof tonight, Rory. And I want to show you something else.” He took her hand and led her to the two initials carved on the wall.

“Garth, this is proof that this mine really belonged to your uncle. Do you think he was right about the gold?”

“I know he was. I’ve already found some.”

Paddy started laughing. “Then if that other mine really belonged to that Forsen fella, than
this
is the mine we filed our claim on. We’re the owners.”

Grinning like a banshee, he shook a finger at Garth. “You outsmarted yourself, Mr. Fraser. The mine and the gold belongs to me and me daughter. And you’ll not get a speck of that gold, no matter what you’ve done for us.”

“Yes, he will, Pop. I promised him my half,” Rory said.

Paddy glared at Garth. “Have you no shame, man, that you’d take the yield after me daughter’s hard-earned efforts?”

“If it doesn’t bother
you
to take it, Paddy, why should you expect it to bother me?”

“Hear that, daughter? Are you just gonna stand there and allow him to speak such disrespect to your father?”

“You can’t expect his respect from the way you’ve been acting. This isn’t like you, Pop. Garth earned this gold and you know it. You’re beginning to sound crazy and vindictive.”

“The greed for gold can do that to a man,” Garth said.

“I’ve no need for the likes of you to be defending me, Garth Fraser. ’Tis bad enough you turned me daughter against me.”

“You’re drunk, Paddy. I think you better sleep it off, and we’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“’Tis the very thing I was fixing to do, Mr. Fraser.” Bottle in hand, Paddy went over and lay down. “But I’ll be keeping me eye open if you’re thinking of any more of your hanky-panky.”

“You do that,” Garth said, amused, allowing Paddy to have the last word.

“I’m sorry, Garth, Pop hasn’t been himself lately,” Rory said quietly when they moved outside. She sat down at the fire and hugged her knees to her chin. “I’m getting very worried about him. Before we came here, he was fine most of the time, but now—”

“He’s bored, Rory; he’s got too much time on his hands. And too much whiskey in his stomach.”

“I know. That’s what worries me the most. In his mind he always figured that he looked after me, and that I enjoyed wandering as much as he did.”

“And do you?”

“I guess I did for a while, but I’ve grown weary of it and would like to settle down. Now he’s facing the reality that his health is failing and he’s getting too old for the footloose life he enjoys. Do you think he’s not ashamed of how much he has to depend on me now? It’s not only the whiskey that causes him to lash out in these nasty tantrums. He’s really not angry at you or me, Garth; he’s angry at himself.”

“Unfortunately, whiskey isn’t the answer, honey. Sad to say, if he keeps drinking at the rate he’s doing now, he’ll soon be entirely worthless.”

She nodded sorrowfully. “I know, but it eases the pain of it, doesn’t it?”

“Once we’re out of here, it’s not too late to get him back where he’d be comfortable. Paddy’s right about one thing, though,” he said in a lighter vein. “I do have some hanky-panky on my mind.” Garth went over to the waterfall and pulled out a bottle.

“What is it?” she asked when he held it up like a trophy.

“Wine. Father Chavez put it in my pack when I was leaving. He said not to open it until the time was right. And that I’d know when that time came,” he added with a wry grin.

He came over to the fire with the bottle and his tin cup. After pulling the cork out of the bottle, he filled his cup and handed it to her. “This may not be imported French wine, but at least it’s been blessed. I really like that old man.”

Garth stretched out on his side, propped up an elbow, and cradled his head in his hand.

“What?” she asked when he lay there staring at her.

“I’m trying to decide which flatters you the most: moonlight, firelight, or sunlight. Moonlight brings out a silver glow to your hair, firelight turns it into shimmering copper, and sunlight…well, sunlight turns it to gold. You’re the loveliest and most desirable woman I’ve ever seen.”

“At least on this mountain,” she said lightly.

Though Rory tried to sound flippant, she cherished this moment and delighted in his every word.

Firelight played on his dark hair and handsome profile, and as they talked, they continued to pass the cup between them until it was empty, then he refilled it again.

The combination of the warm fire and the wine had mellowed her into relaxing. Rory stretched out opposite him and, assumed the same position as Garth, only inches separating their heads.

“This is such a lovely night. When I think of last night, it’s hard to believe I’m lying here now under these stars. They’re so beautiful.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Honey, last night was just a bad dream. Tell me what’s your best dream.”

“My best dream? That’s easy; I’ve dreamed it so often. One day a knight will come riding up on a white charger and snatch me from the clutches of a Mo Buckman, or some such dragon who is plaguing my life. He’ll carry me off to a little house surrounded by a white picket fence.”

“Wouldn’t that dream call for a huge castle surrounded by a moat?”

Her light laughter carried on the evening air like the distant tinkle of a wind chime kissed by a gentle breeze.

“This is
my
dream, Fraser. No castle or moat for me, simply a little house with a white picket fence. And it wouldn’t matter to my knight that I worked in a saloon or my father was a drunk, because he’ll love me and we’ll look forward to the future, not back to the past. And together, we’ll watch our children grow up without ever wanting for what they didn’t have, but thankful for what they
did
have: being loved and giving love.”

“And how would that knight on the white charger afford to build that little house and fence, and feed his devoted wife and loving children?”

“It won’t matter what he does for a living, as long as it’s an honest job. The important thing is that he’s content to settle down and do so.”

“I wonder if you would really be contented, Rory. Dreaming and actually living that dream can be very different. Dreams are an escape from reality. The best favor we can do ourselves is to recognize the reality of who and what we are, and change our life if we don’t like it. Not just dream how we’d like it to be.”

“That’s easier said than done. Especially when there’s no way or opportunity to achieve whatever that dream may be.”

“Yet sometimes, when you’ve achieved it, you may find that it isn’t what you hoped it would be. For instance, I think you would be bored living the life of your dream.”

“Bored! Why would I be bored? I’ve thought about this dream over and over again since I’ve been a child. And at no time did I ever imagine it would bore me.”

“Then why are you still single, Rory? You’re a beautiful woman, and there are at least a dozen men in the West for every woman. Surely there’s a decent man among them who’s more than willing to marry you and settle down.”

“I guess none of
my
dozen are interested in marrying me,” she said, reaching for the cup.

“I think it’s just the opposite—
you’re
not interested in marrying any of them. I can’t visualize you churning butter or setting dough for bread. No matter what you say, you’re adventuresome, Rory. You like your freedom and independence as much as your father does, and the only commitment you’re willing to make to any man, is to him.”

Rory fought back the rise of anger. She would not let anything he said spoil this evening. They were both adults and were capable of having a discussion without her stomping off like a spoiled child. But why couldn’t he see it all narrowed down to her just wanting a sense of security, and feeling her life was worth something to someone?

“I believe you can’t visualize me that way, Garth, because you think of me as just a saloon girl. Isn’t that the real reason?”

“Just the opposite. I’ve been trying to get you into bed from the time I met you, and I’ve learned a lot about you since we’ve been here. You would no more prostitute yourself for a wedding ring and picket fence, than you would for two dollars from a drunk in a saloon.

“Look at you now: lying here gazing at the stars as if you haven’t a care in the world, when last night you were fighting like hell to hold on to your sanity in a dark pit you were sharing with a skeleton.

“Honey,” he said gently, “you’re a fighter, a survivor. Not one who’s willing to sit back in a rocking chair and settle for a white picket fence to keep out her troubles. The only thing you’re
really
looking for is a man who loves you regardless of your past, and whom you love regardless of his.”

“Do you think I’ll ever find that man?” she asked wistfully.

“Of course you will. And you’ll know it when you do. Only don’t be disappointed if he’s just a trail bum or a drifter. Our dreams don’t always play out according to the scripts we write for ourselves.”

“What’s
your
dream, Garth?”

“I don’t have one anymore. I used to dream of finding Uncle Henry’s gold mine.”

“You don’t sound like you’re too happy to have found it. From what you’ve told me, even with only half of the gold you found, you’ll be a rich man and can do anything you want.”

“I pretty much do that now without being rich,” he said. “It doesn’t take too much to make me happy.”

“Surely discovering the gold can’t make you unhappy.”

“No, but like my uncle, my dream had nothing to do with acquiring riches. It was about keeping the dream alive.”

“So now that your dream’s fulfilled, you no longer have a dream,” she said softly. “That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me all along.” Her eyes were misty as she looked into his. “I’m so sorry for you, Garth.”

He chuckled. “Hey, listen to us. Feeling sorry for ourselves because we struck gold.” He emptied the remains of the wine bottle into the cup. “I propose a toast.”

She smiled and sat up. “So what are we toasting?”

“Here’s to keeping our dreams alive.” He handed her the cup.

Rory raised it in the air. “To dreams. Long may they wave.” She took a swallow of the wine and passed it on to him.

“O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.” Garth downed the remaining wine, and then they broke into laughter.

They settled in their former positions, stretched out again opposite each other eye to eye with their chins cradled in their hands.

“That wine was delicious,” she said. “I must be sure to thank Father Chavez when we get back to the mission.”

“Did I ever tell you that my brother Clay has become a vintner in the Napa Valley?”

“You told me he raised grapes. What’s a vintner?”

“He makes wine from those grapes.”

“Was it your brother’s dream to grow grapes?”

“Well, when our grandfather was alive he made his own wine at Fraser Keep. Clay used to trail after Granddad like a disciple.”

His words touched her heart. She could tell from his smile that he had slipped back into that fond memory.

“Fraser Keep.” Rory sighed in contentment and laid her head on her arms. “Garth, tell me more about your life before the war. I want to hear about the cotillions and fancy balls. The kind of gowns the women wore, the music, the fragrance of honeysuckle and magnolias. Oh, it all sounds so romantic to me. I’ve heard the women wore beautiful gowns of satin and lace, frilled petticoats, and satin slippers.”