Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (85 page)

Tugging as hard as he could, he turned the horse toward the open space. It, too, spotted the chance at safety, and bolted in that direction.

Faster than he'd ever imagined a horse being able to go, the animal charged into the opening, then raced down the mountain. It was all Joseph could do to cling to the horse and pray that they would both somehow arrive at the bottom safely.

When they got to the bottom of the hill, a tree slid past them. Rocks were still coming down to the left of them, and a huge pile of boulders, rocks, trees and miscellaneous debris had gathered where he and the horse would have ended up had he not spotted the break. Another few steps, and they'd have been caught up in the flood.

Thank You, Lord.

He'd heard that storms in the mountains could be bad, but he'd never expected this. Between the rain loosening the ground at the edge of the hillside, and the lightning knocking down trees and shaking boulders loose, combined with the flash flood, it was amazing he'd survived.

He found a safe place to stop, then got off the horse. With the storm this bad, and so much lightning around, it was best to take his chances on foot. After a few paces, he could see Leadville, which from his vantage point would be a lot closer to wait out the storm in town than trying to get back to camp.

The rain worsened, pouring like a waterfall without breaks to indicate droplets. Hopefully Annabelle would keep Nugget... Joseph shook his head. Of course Annabelle was taking good care of Nugget. She loved his sister, and he couldn't have asked for a better caretaker.

His mind started to wander in the direction of thinking of Annabelle as a mother again, but he stopped. No. Joseph glanced up at the sky. Better to be struck down than to continue tormenting himself. He'd find the silver, then send Annabelle on her way to the life she'd always dreamed of.

When he finally arrived in town, he was sure not a dry spot existed on his person. The streets were rivers of mud, and Joseph couldn't remember ever seeing them so empty. Everyone had taken refuge from the storm.

He brought the horse to the livery Frank patronized, glad that Wes, the proprietor, came out to greet him.

“Got caught in the storm, did you?” Wes took the reins and led the horse into the stables.

Joseph nodded and took off his hat, shaking the water from it, knowing that it did no good.

“Want to come in and dry off?”

“Thanks.” Joseph followed him into the stables, thankful that something around him was actually dry, even though the smell of wet horse and manure burned his nostrils.

“I think Betsy has some coffee on. We're about the same size, so I'll lend you some dry clothes.”

“I'm obliged to you.”

“None doing. Frank's a good friend, and I know he'd do the same for me.”

More of the same hospitality he'd grown used to. Such a dichotomy between the people like Frank and the rest of the world. Clearly Frank's people loved as Christ loved, and gave freely. They'd been taught well. How could they be otherwise with Frank's example?

Wes led him into the neat living quarters off the stable. “It's not much, but with land prices here in town, it's the best we can do.”

“It's fine.” He looked around the room that Wes and his wife used for their home. Everything, including a cookstove and bed, was contained in that tiny room.

“Betsy, can you get our guest a cup of coffee while I find him some dry clothes?”

“Gracious!” Betsy hurried toward them. “Let's get you by the fire to dry off. You'll catch your death. What were you thinking, going out in that storm?”

“It caught me unawares. We were out looking at some of my pa's claims, hoping to find clues as to the location of his silver. On the way back, I got caught in a flash flood.”

He didn't bother explaining about Slade, or how it was really the expert's fault they were in this mess. Especially since Betsy was shaking her head and clucking about risking one's life for silver.

“You sound just like Annabelle,” he said as a way of trying to be friendly and breaking the ice.

Betsy stepped back. “Annabelle? I'm nothing like her. She's a preacher's daughter.”

“Betsy...” Wes's warning came from the corner.

“It's all right.” Joseph accepted the blanket Betsy handed him. “Sounds like you just need to get to know Annabelle better. She's one of the kindest people I know. She's been helping take care of my sister, and I can honestly say I don't know what I'd do without her.”

Betsy stared at him for a moment, then looked over at Wes. “That's what he's been telling me, but I don't know. I can't imagine her wanting to be friends with the likes of me.”

Joseph wanted to continue defending her, but the more he rose to her defense, the more it looked like his feelings were more... Well, they... He shook his head. The woman was going to drive him crazy by the time he was done.

“Maybe you should invite her over. I'm sure she'd be honored to have you as a friend.” Joseph's stomach ached. That was the worst part of the situation and him trying to be her friend. He'd be leaving soon, and things would be all the worse for Annabelle.

Betsy turned away, like she didn't want to continue arguing the point. Joseph had to start learning to mind his own business, especially where Annabelle was concerned.

Wes returned, carrying a pile of clothes. “Betsy'll turn her back while you get these on.”

Joseph changed as quickly as he could. “I'm finished,” he said as he buttoned the last button on the shirt.

“Based on you riding Frank's best horse, and what you've said, I presume you're Billy's boy.” Wes looked at him, studying.

“Yes.”

It couldn't be that bad if Wes already figured him out, but still supplied him with clean clothes anyway, right?

“Did you know my pa?”

Wes nodded slowly. “I took care of his horse. Had to sell it, though, to pay his past due on the stabling.”

If his pa had silver, why couldn't he pay the stable?

“Mighty fine horse.” Wes stroked his chin. “I always wondered where he got the money for it.”

“Maybe he won it in a card game.”

Wes shook his head. “Not Billy. He was terrible at cards. Used to say that losing was God's punishment for adding that to his multitude of sins.”

It sounded almost as if Wes knew his pa. “Were you friends?”

“As much as a body could be, I suppose.” Wes handed him a cup of coffee. “Billy mostly kept his own counsel. Visited that girl he had over on State Street, but didn't spend too much time getting friendly with others.”

The description didn't fit with what he'd been told about his pa. “Everyone I've talked to has spoken poorly of him.”

The fire crackled in response, because Wes just stood there, as though he was carefully considering his words.

Then finally, “Well, I suppose he didn't do much to endear himself to anyone. Especially Slim Deckert. When Billy heard he'd roughed up one of the girls over at Miss Betty's, he went and beat the daylights out of him. No one understood why he'd take up for a woman like that, but Billy just muttered that he had a daughter her age, and that she had to be somebody's daughter.”

Another story that didn't mesh with either his view of his pa, or the stories he'd heard. Though the name intrigued him. Slim was the guy his pa supposedly cheated to get the mine he'd just looked at.

“How did that make him unpopular?”

Wes shrugged. “There's two types of people in this town. One that wants to get rid of the women. They'd just as soon have them sent away and everything cleaned up nicely. The other type wants them so's they can use them, if you know what I mean.”

The collar of the unfamiliar shirt felt tight around Joseph's neck. Yes, he knew what Wes meant. Because clearly his pa had taken advantage of the latter.

“Billy, he wasn't neither. He saw a man for who and what he was, and he didn't make no pretense otherwise. Didn't matter if a man wore fancy clothes or drove a nice rig. If the man was a snake, he called him a snake. The snakes around here didn't like that none.”

Wes's eyes narrowed as he motioned to Joseph to lean in more. “There's plenty of folks who wanted your pa dead, and not for any of the reasons you'd think.”

Not a very helpful answer. “But was there silver?”

“I don't know. No one knows for sure. Only Billy, and he's dead now.”

So close to answers, yet none that he sought. “Is there anything you can tell me that would be helpful? I just looked at a mine he supposedly won in a card game from Slim.”

“I've heard that tale.” Wes shrugged. “And even though Lon, the dealer, supports Slim's side of the story, I never bought it. Like I said, Billy was terrible at cards.”

Which only made everything all the more murky. And made his pa's death all the more likely to have been murder. But it didn't give him any answers.

“If anyone knows anything, it would be the kid,” Wes continued. “Billy doted on her. When her ma took ill, he cared for that little girl himself. Paid Miss Betty well to keep Lily and the child.”

Money he could have sent home. While part of Joseph admired that his pa did the honorable thing with his mistress and their child, the other part stung at the thought of his mother and siblings struggling. How was he supposed to forgive a man for letting one family starve while supporting the other?

“Why'd he keep them at that place? Surely he'd put them in a house or something like that.”

“For a while, they lived at his cabin. But when Lily got sick, she needed to be close to the doctor. None of the decent boardinghouses would have her, given her old profession. Besides, her friends were all at Miss Betty's.”

It was strange to think that a person would be more comfortable in a house of ill repute than anywhere else. Especially with a child.

“Plus, if you ask me—” Wes lowered his voice again “—I heard talk of some men out to get Billy. I imagine he wanted to keep his family safe.”

“How do you know all this? And why doesn't Frank know?”

“Billy was afraid of putting the preacher in danger. He figured he'd risked enough by giving him his papers to hold, but the preacher's safe is the safest in town, other than at the bank. And Billy had his reasons for not wanting to go to the bank.”

“But that doesn't answer my question. How do you know all this?”

“Because...” He lowered his voice even further.

“Oh, for land's sakes, Wes. Just tell him already. I'm not some delicate flower you have to protect.”

Betsy came and stood in their midst. “I used to work at Miss Betty's with Lily. Wes and I fell in love, but given my profession, we were afraid that if people knew, they wouldn't do business with Wes anymore. So we pretended like I was new to town, and everyone believed it. Except Billy, who recognized me from his visits to Lily.”

She gave Wes a sharp glare. “Billy would sometimes bring Lily over to see me. None of the womenfolk here in town were all that friendly to me. I always imagined that they figured out who I really was, even though no one has ever said anything. It's like no matter how hard I try, I can't get the stain of my former job off me.”

The longing on her face wrenched Joseph's heart in two. “You told me I should seek out Miss Annabelle. But I ask you, what do I have to offer a fine young lady like her? I'm not fit company, and if her pa knew what I used to do, he'd never allow it.”

Obviously Betsy didn't know Frank all that well. “If that's so, then why does he let her take care of Nugget?”

“She's a child. She hasn't done anything wrong. Not like me.”

The pain in the woman's eyes made him realize that she had far more in common with Annabelle than she thought. He looked over at Wes, then back at Betsy. “Clearly you haven't been to church enough. Because there you'd learn that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Anyone who would judge you is just as guilty of sin as you are.”

“I knew I liked you,” Wes said with a grin. “I can see why Frank is so keen on you. You're a good man. I hope you find your pa's silver. If anyone deserves it, you do.”

Unfortunately, he was learning that finding silver had nothing to do with deserving it. Just like the misfortunes that befell people. Frank and Annabelle didn't deserve the tragedy they'd experienced, but it had come anyway. So, too, had the hardships come to Joseph and his.

But somehow, some way, Joseph was going to make it right.

Betsy handed him a bowl of soup. “Eat this. After being in that storm, it'll do you good. Keep you from catching cold.”

Between sips of soup, Joseph further relayed the events on the mountain. Even as the soup warmed him, his bones ached with the chill of being so close to death. Again, he couldn't help but thank God for keeping him safe. Surely, by the worried expressions on his new friends' faces, God's hand had been on him the entire time.

“Wait a second.” Wes stared at him. “You're telling me that right before the big rockslide, you heard a boom?”

Joseph nodded. “Yes. Lightning must've struck and loosened the rocks.”

“I don't think so. It would do that to a tree, maybe, but boulders? A slide that big had to have come from something like dynamite. Your story sounds a lot like what miners have described as being caught in when they've set the dynamite wrong.”

The concern on Wes's face brought the chill back to Joseph. “It did sound different from the lightning strikes, now that you mention it.”

Wouldn't Slade have known the difference? “So why didn't Slade come back to see if I was all right?”

He'd told himself it was because the situation was so dangerous, but wouldn't a man of God, the right-hand man of the preacher who'd assigned him to take care of Joseph, have checked?