Читать книгу The Sheriff - Nan Ryan - Страница 9

Kate hurried home with the plat map and the will rolled up and tucked under her arm. She could hardly wait to show both to her uncle Nelson. No doubt he would be as surprised as she that a woman whom Kate had never met had left everything to her.

She smiled as she envisioned her uncle putting on his spectacles and studying the documents while she knelt beside his easy chair and stretched her hands out to the warmth of the small fire.

Nose cold, cheeks red, Kate reached the rented rooms and hurried inside, calling her uncle’s name.

“Uncle Nelson, you are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed loudly as she removed her woolen cape, hung it on the coat tree and rushed across the room toward his chair. Mildly annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to turn around when she’d come in, she continued, “My great-aunt—that mysterious lady you have told me about, Mrs. Arielle VanNam Colfax—has passed away out in San Francisco and left me a…I have her will here and…and…” Kate stopped speaking.

She was beginning to frown when she reached Uncle Nelson’s chair and the old man still had not responded.

“Uncle, what is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, and gently touched his shoulder. He fell forward in his chair. Kate immediately dropped the documents and sank to her knees before him, grabbing hold of his upper arms. “You’re ill,” she said, “that’s it. You’re not feeling well. I’ll just run and get Dr. Barnes and he’ll fix you right up. You’ll be good as new and…no…No, Uncle Nelson, no!” Kate murmured, not wanting to believe that the kind man who had been mother and father, friend and protector, was dead. Gently, she leaned him back in his chair and closed his sightless eyes as tears filled her own.

When finally she dried her eyes, she saw that her uncle was clutching a piece of neatly folded bond paper in his right hand. She carefully removed the document and laid it aside without looking at it.

Long minutes passed while she sat on the floor with her forehead on her uncle’s knee. Finally, eyes red from weeping, Kate rose to her feet, took a deep breath, and immediately went about the unpleasant task of seeing to it that her beloved relative was taken to the undertaker’s parlor around the corner.

Afterward, when she returned home alone, Kate paced the chilly room, wondering how she could possibly give her uncle the kind of funeral he deserved. She had no money. And she had too much pride to ask for help from her uncle’s few close friends.

Despairing, Kate sat down in her uncle’s chair and leaned her head back. The fire in the grate had died. It was cold in the room. She shivered and rubbed her arms. It seemed she could never get warm.

Kate turned to look for the blanket she’d had earlier, and suddenly noticed the folded sheet of heavy bond stationery her uncle had been clutching when she’d found him.

She reached for it and carefully unfolded it.

She read and reread the message. In his neat, distinctive hand, Nelson VanNam had told his niece where the last of his cash was hidden, along with a pearl-handled Navy Colt pistol he treasured.

Kate refolded the letter and put it in the pocket of her dress. She went into the tiny alcove where her uncle had slept, and removed a battered tin box from beneath a loose floorboard at the foot of his bed. When she opened the box, Kate’s eyes widened. The heavy pistol rested atop neat stacks of cash.

Kate hurried to the dining table and placed the box there. She lifted out the pearl-handled Colt revolver and gently laid it down. Then she took the stacks of bills from the box and carefully counted them.

Immediately, Kate felt as if an unbearably heavy load had been lifted from her shoulders. There was more than enough money to give her uncle a proper burial.

And to get her all the way to Fortune, California.

“You simply cannot do this,” warned Kate’s best friend, Alexandra Wharton. “A woman does not go alone across the country from Boston to California. It isn’t safe. No telling what might happen to you.”

“I’m not going across the country, Alex,” Kate said, and affectionately hugged the frowning Alexandra.

The two women had been friends since the days both had attended the Willingham Academy, an expensive private school for young ladies where they had learned the difference between a lemon fork and an oyster fork and how to converse in French. While Alexandra still enjoyed a privileged life with wealthy parents, she continued to count Kate as her best friend and an equal in every way.

“But, Kate,” Alexandra said now, “California is on the other side of America. You will have to travel across the country.”

“No, I won’t,” Kate merrily corrected. “I’m going by ship!”

“Oh, you know very well what I mean,” scolded Alexandra.

“Yes, of course I do. Ah, Alex, don’t look so grim. No terrible fate will befall me.” Kate pulled back and smiled reassuringly at her friend.

“You don’t know that to be true. Even if you travel by ship, the horn is treacherous and—”

Interrupting, Kate shook her head and said, “Did you know that the route via Cape Horn is a journey of thirteen thousand nautical miles and takes four to eight months to complete?”

“Well, there you have it. You can’t possibly—”

“I’m not going via the horn. I’m taking the shortcut across the Isthmus of Panama.” Kate snapped her fingers. “Nothing to it! I’ll be in California in no time at all.”

Alexandra frowned. “Even so, it’s uncivilized out there, Kate. There are bandits and Indians and…”

“I appreciate your concern and I will miss you terribly, but this could be my golden chance, don’t you see? Maybe there’s actually gold in the mine my great-aunt has left me. Wouldn’t that be something? And maybe the house is a solid, well-built mansion where I’ll be warm for once in my life.”

Continuing to frown, Alexandra said, “I’ve told you a dozen times you can come to live with us. Father and Mother would welcome you and—”

“It’s a kind offer and I’m truly grateful to you and your parents. But I cannot accept. My mind’s made up. You know how I love the idea of embarking on a great new adventure. I am going to California to seek my fortune!”

“What about Samuel? Will you just leave him behind with no regrets?”

Kate shook her head. Alexandra was referring to Sam Bradford, a fine young man who had shown an unflagging interest in courting Kate. But the attraction was not mutual. While Kate genuinely respected Sam and realized he had a bright future ahead in his father’s flourishing ship brokerage firm, she was not interested in him romantically. Nor was she interested in anyone else. While Alexandra dreamed of marriage and children, Kate yearned for excitement and travel.

She laughed now and said, “Tell the truth, Alex. Wouldn’t you like to console Sam in my absence?”

Alexandra flushed guiltily, then smiled. “I can’t deny that I find Sam incredibly appealing.” She frowned again. “But it’s you he likes, not me.”

“So he thinks. But I predict that a week—two at the most—after I’m gone, Samuel T. Bradford will come calling on you.”

Alexandra’s eyes sparkled. “You really think so?”

Kate laughed. “I do, yes. And in a year or so, I’ll expect a wedding invitation.” Her well-arched eyebrows lifted.

“Where shall I send it?”

“Soon as I’m settled, I’ll write,” promised Kate. Then, with a sly grin, she affected brittle, privileged, lady-of-the-manner diction, and teased, “My dear Miss Wharton, I shall see to it my personal secretary drops you a note with the return address of my California mansion.”

Both young women laughed and hugged once more.

At the Boston harbor, on the bitter cold morning of March 27, 1855, the two young women hugged again.

But neither laughed.

“I’ll miss you so,” said a teary-eyed Alexandra.

“And I you,” Kate replied, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

She turned away and hurried up the gangway of the clipper ship Star of Gold.