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Chapter Six

Joseph watched Annabelle leave with a smile. She was like a wet cat when she got all riled up. And even though he assumed he was supposed to take her seriously, it only made him want to laugh. Someday, she’d figure out that she didn’t have to pretend with him.

Wait. What was he talking about, someday? As soon as he finalized his pa’s estate, he’d be taking what he could and going back to his family in Ohio. There he wouldn’t need to worry about getting closer to Annabelle Lassiter.

Frank coughed, and Joseph looked up. He probably shouldn’t have said all that about corsets. At home, that’s all his sisters ever talked about. But in polite company, it was highly inappropriate.

“I’m sorry. I should have been less frank with your daughter.”

Frank smiled. “No need for apologies. When her mother was alive, she had a woman to tell her these things. Poor Maddie isn’t equipped for the society Annabelle runs with.”

“It must be hard on her, losing her mother.”

Joseph took a mouthful of soup, pleased that the flavor was every bit as good as the aroma that had been tantalizing him since this morning.

“I’m sure it’s just as hard for you and your sisters,” Frank said in a pastorly tone.

Joseph looked around the large table. “We at least have each other.”

He continued eating his soup, remembering Annabelle’s confession from the previous night. Yes, he’d lost his parents, but he had his siblings left. People to care for, people who counted on him, people who cared about him.

Who did Annabelle have other than Maddie and her pa?

“You must miss them.” The knowing smile warmed him even more than the soup. How could Annabelle be devoid of the same warmth?

“I do. But I’ll wrap up things with my pa’s estate, then return home.” Hopefully with enough money to get by until he could support them all. As his ma’s sister, Aunt Ina would surely refuse to help their pa’s out-of-wedlock child.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Frank said, then continued eating his soup.

It was too bad there weren’t more men like Frank Lassiter in Ohio. He would never forget Frank’s kindness. Someday, he’d take Frank’s challenge and help someone else in need.

Annabelle returned, wearing a faded dress and an equally faded expression on her face. The wet cat look had been replaced by the look the cat would have after being dried off—slightly more comfortable, but still resentful.

“There you are, Annabelle. And looking just as pretty.” Her father’s flattery did nothing to erase the scowl on her face.

“You’ll feel much better once you get some soup in you. Since Joseph is going to need help finding his father’s cabin, you could go with him. It’s near Greenhorn Gulch. You know where that is.”

“Of course, Father.”

She sat down and ate the soup placed in front of her, her face expressionless and her gaze completely on the bowl.

Joseph should learn to accept Annabelle being distant, but she was like a burr under his saddle. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until he fixed it and fixed it good. His sister Mary would tell him it was his failing. Having to get to the bottom of things and solve the problem. They’d always thought he’d become a lawman for that very reason. But the pay wasn’t enough to support the family and run the farm.

So instead, he was here, chasing down his deadbeat father’s estate, and trying not to be attracted to the lovely woman sitting before him. He’d admit it, even in the dress she looked none too happy about wearing, Annabelle Lassiter was still a beautiful woman. And when she forgot herself for a moment, she brought so much light into the room.

But those were thoughts he needed to do his best to temper. Though Margaret’s defection had hurt, she’d been right. Joseph could barely provide for the family he had. He needed to focus his attentions on caring for his siblings, not courting a lady.

After lunch, Annabelle took him and Nugget to the livery. They saddled up her family’s horses, then rode out of town toward a place her father had called Greenhorn Gulch.

Rocks jutted out around them, and stumps showed where trees once stood. The sure-footed paint Joseph rode had no trouble keeping up with Annabelle’s blue roan. The mare was perfectly suited to Annabelle, who seemed completely out of place in this desolate land stripped of what had probably once been a beautiful forest.

“What happened to all the trees?”

“Cut down to make support beams for the mines and places for the miners to live.” Her voice had a coldness to it.

“You don’t approve?”

She led her horse across a shallow creek. “It’s not my place to approve, but I think it’s a fool’s errand. People are willing to risk everything to get rich, and most of the folk who come out here never do. They abandon their families, leaving behind perfectly good lives in the vain hope that they’ll strike silver. When they get here, they’re willing to lie, cheat, steal and do anything else to gain an advantage that doesn’t exist.”

She could have been talking about his pa. He’d come out here with the goal of finding silver to provide what the farm could not. But the little girl sitting in front of him on the saddle was proof of how his pa had discarded his principles.

But he refused to accept Annabelle’s evaluation that it happened to everyone.

“Some people get rich.”

Annabelle looked over her shoulder at him. “Don’t even entertain that line of thinking. Before you know it, you’ll be living in the filth, blinded by the tiny flecks you think mean something but turn out to be nothing.”

“My papa found a treasure.” Nugget, seated in front of him on the ample saddle, piped up. “He was going to build me and my mama a bigger house than anyone else in Leadville.”

The glance Annabelle gave him was enough to melt the rocks around them. “So you are one of them.”

She turned her gaze to Nugget, and he could tell it immediately softened. “You should just take her back to wherever you came from. Now, before you wind up losing whatever else you have left.”

Annabelle probably saw a lot of hardship in her line of work. It was natural that she’d want to be protective, especially of Nugget. But she didn’t understand. He had nothing to go back to. Only a family to send for, and he already knew there wasn’t a place here for them. His only hope was finding something of enough value in his pa’s possessions that he could use it to move the family west.

“All I want is what my pa found. Nothing more. Just enough to get home to my family and make sure they’re taken care of.”

“That’s what they all say.” Annabelle clicked her tongue and set her horse to a faster pace. The rocky path had widened until a large mining operation came into view. He’d spent some time working in a similar place when he’d first arrived in Leadville, bringing the ore to the smelter. Tents and ramshackle cabins dotted the area, but Annabelle made no motion to slow her pace.

He glanced behind him, noting that from this elevation above town, the view was so majestic, it was easy to forget the abysmal conditions of the mining camp they’d passed through. On the hardest days, it was this picture of being above the clouds covering the valley below that had kept him sane.

Once they passed through the camp, Annabelle followed the creek back into more rocky terrain. Joseph had to give her credit for her adept handling of the horse. His sisters probably wouldn’t have been able to do the same. They came around a rise and into a smaller clearing.

“Hey! This is where my papa lives,” Nugget cried out as she tried to scramble down from the saddle.

Joseph held her tight. “Wait. I want to be sure it’s safe.”

Annabelle slowed her pace, then pointed to an outcropping of rocks. “Based on the map, that’s where the cabin is.”

“How did you get to know the area?”

She shrugged, and said in a dull voice, “My father’s ministry is helping the people in the mining camps. Many of them don’t venture into town because they’re so afraid that if they leave, they’ll miss out on the big strike. So we go to them.”

“How often do you come out?”

“I haven’t in a while.” The familiar look of sadness crossed her face. “Not since everyone got sick.”

They dismounted, and she led them to the other side of the rocks, Nugget skipping on ahead into the cabin.

“She’s still here!” The little girl ran out of the cabin, carrying a worn rag doll. “I forgot her last time we came to visit Papa, and I’ve been missing her terribly.”

Nugget hugged the doll as Joseph stared at the place his pa had been calling home for the past five years. Sandwiched between outcroppings of rocks, the cabin was little more than a one-room shack built mostly of rocks, twigs and mud.

“I guess we found it,” Annabelle said, looking resigned.

“Thank you. I would have never found it otherwise.” Even though Nugget had recognized the area, it was clear she wouldn’t have found it, either. When she’d tried to get off the horse, she was looking in the opposite direction.

He walked into the dark building, grateful when Annabelle handed him the lantern. She obviously knew what she was doing. Looking at this place, Joseph could see why she sounded so disillusioned.

As he held up the lamp to illuminate the room, Annabelle walked around, lighting the lamps she found.

It was a simple room, with a small stove, a bed, a trunk and a few boxes. His pa had given it a touch of home, the bed covered with a quilt Joseph recognized as the one his ma had tearfully pressed into his arms when he’d left.

One of the crates was turned on its end, like a makeshift chest of drawers, with a picture of his family, as well as a picture of a bawdily dressed woman— Nugget’s mother, he assumed.

He walked over to the pictures and picked up the one of his family. If only Annabelle’s judgment of the situation hadn’t been so true. His pa had abandoned them to give them what he’d claimed was a better life. Only it hadn’t panned out, and now Joseph was looking for something, anything, to pick up the pieces.

“That your family?” Annabelle stood behind him, her voice thick.

“Yes.”

Nugget entered the room and noticed him holding the picture. “Papa said that someday I’d meet the rest of my brothers and sisters. That’s how I knowed you when you comed for me.” She pointed at the people in the picture.

“That’s Mary, and Bess, and Evelyn, and Helen, and Rose, and Daniel and there’s you.” She frowned as she pointed at Ma. “And that’s the other lady. Mama said she was the reason why I couldn’t meet you yet.”

Joseph swallowed the unexpected grief and tried to ignore the anger burning his insides. Pa had never planned on coming home. At least not to his ma. Ma had been a good woman. She hadn’t deserved this. Once again, he wished his pa was alive just so he could kill him himself.

“She was my ma. She was a good woman.”

Nugget’s eyes widened. “Papa told Mama she was a shrew.”

It was wrong to disrespect your father, but if his pa was here now, Joseph would have no problem punching him. And yet, he could stand here and do nothing—not contradict an innocent child who hardly knew what she was saying, and try to avoid the knowing look in Annabelle’s eyes. Not that the girl looking around the cabin knew anything at all.

Annabelle had moved on and was looking at a stack of books beside the bed.

“Your father was a reader?”

“No.” Joseph coughed and took the book from her hands. “My sister Mary and I are. Mary thought that if we sent him with our favorite books, he’d have something of us so that he wasn’t so lonely.”

He glanced over at the little girl now rummaging through the trunk. His pa had obviously had no problem with loneliness. After having done the math in his head more times than he cared to count, Joseph figured his pa had met Nugget’s mother shortly after coming here the first time. Which meant his pa had gone home to Ma after being with Nugget’s mother. And then left his ma to return to a woman who— If it weren’t for the women present, Joseph would have wanted to smash the pictures representing his pa’s lies.

“I’m sure the books gave him some comfort. It looks like he jotted notes in the margins.” Annabelle gave him a small smile, as if she was trying to be sympathetic.

Her words made him pause as he looked at the book. Why would anyone jot notes in the margins of Ivanhoe? Joseph flipped through the pages and noticed that random words had been circled, and sure enough, when you looked at some of the margins, his pa had made notes.

Only none of them made any sense. One page would have Mary May scribbled on the side, then some words would be circled. Why would he write Mary’s name on the pages of Joseph’s book?

He noticed that Annabelle had begun looking at his pa’s other books, sitting on the bed, and Nugget had joined her. He couldn’t deny that her treatment of his sister was genuine. One light and one dark head were pressed together, whispering over the books Annabelle was looking at.

“Do you like to read?” He moved back toward them, and Annabelle looked up, a real smile filling her face.

“It’s my favorite pastime. I love reading about the far-off places and countries. There are so many wonderful things in this world, and I would love...” She gave a soft sigh, then closed the book she’d been looking at. “Well, my place is here. The only way I get to see the world is through one of these.”

A wistful look crossed Annabelle’s face, and Joseph realized that there was far more to her dream of travel than she was saying. If conditions were different, he’d want to know more, but how could he give her any indication of his interest and raise false hope in her? Maybe Annabelle’s reticence was for the best.

Annabelle ruffled Nugget’s hair and stood. “Enough of that talk. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Back to the old Annabelle. Fully on task and avoiding anything personal. Clearly she had more sense than he. Nugget remained on the bed, looking at one of his pa’s books.

“I need a pencil,” she announced, unaware of the tension in the room.

“Oh, you’re much too little for that.” Annabelle held out her hand to Nugget. “We’ll go pick some wildflowers while your brother finishes what he needs.”

Nugget gave her a glare that made Joseph want to laugh.

“Papa lets me draw in his book.” Nugget stood, and proudly stomped over to one of the chests, leaving one of the books open on the bed to show a childish drawing scribbled over the pages of one of Mary’s beloved books.

Joseph’s gut clenched. His sister’s favorite book had been reduced to worthless garbage by a pa who had left his first family in need for a new life.

Annabelle caught his eye, and again he saw genuine emotion. Pity this time, and he wanted none of it.

“Such a shame,” she said in a quiet voice. “She loves stories, though, so perhaps I can help her learn to respect books. I can remember when Mother was giving us lessons, and Susannah, who was just a baby, got her hands on an inkwell and one of Father’s books. I thought poor Mother was going to die of apoplexy. But Susannah learned, just like Nugget will.”

“I’ll teach her,” he said gruffly, and went to the trunk where Nugget was still rummaging for something to write with.

“What are you looking for?” He knelt beside her and put his hands over hers.

“I want to make a picture for Papa,” she told him, those big green eyes reminding him so much of his sister Mary. Mary, who had the most loving heart in the world, but was going to be so hurt when she finally learned of the horrible sins their pa had committed.

How do you tell your siblings that their beloved pa was an unfaithful liar and cheat?

“You know your papa is gone, right?”

Nugget nodded, big eyes staring at him. “But someday when I meet Jesus, I’ll see him again. And he’ll want to see all of my pictures. He loved it when I made him pictures. He’d hand me a book and tell me to make him something pretty.”

Joseph’s stomach turned over again. How could his pa have been so careless with the things he and his sister held so dearly?

A stack of envelopes caught his eye. He’d recognize that writing anywhere. Ma’s. With childish scribbles drawn over it. Even his ma’s letters weren’t sacred. But why would they be? His pa hadn’t kept his marriage vows sacred, either.

Joseph’s heart twisted inside him as those letters beckoned at him. His ma hadn’t been perfect, and in most recent years, with their pa gone, she’d been unbearable at times. But he couldn’t help himself when he took that stack of letters and put them in his pocket. Tonight he would read them and grieve, both for parents lost, a marriage broken, and the realization that everything promised them had been a lie.

Rocky Mountain Dreams

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