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“I’m fine. I don’t need to see the doctor. I c-can’t.” She’d intended to sound forceful, not fearful. If only her voice hadn’t betrayed her.
“You can, and you will—if you want to work for me.”
His clipped words and sharp tone riled her. Dashing rogues were one thing. Rude, unyielding men were another. “As I told you, I can’t see him. I don’t have the money for an examination. Besides, I’m sure I’ll be better in a few days.”
“Who did this to you?”
His rapid change of subject took her aback. “What?”
He leaned forward and peered at her beneath the wide brim of her simple muslin bonnet. “Who struck you, Miss Martin?”
Shame surged through her, so bitter she could almost taste it. It had been hard enough telling her new friends that her own brother had slapped her. She couldn’t tell this stern-faced stranger. “That’s not important. I’ll never see him again.” At least she hoped not.
Mr. O’Brien narrowed his eyes. “It’s important to me. I don’t want an angry suitor showing up at my door seeking to get you back. I won’t put Mutti in danger.”
She blinked several times. “I can assure you it wasn’t a suitor. I’ve never had one.”
Now, why had she said that? Her romantic life—or lack thereof—was none of his business.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? A woman in your situation could go to great lengths to get away from her attacker. She might even...lie.”
“I’m not like that. I’m a follower of Christ and would never deceive you.”
The words had scarcely left her lips when guilt soured her stomach. She hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t exactly told him the truth, either. She’d misled him, just like she’d misled everyone else since she’d embarked on her journey.
Although she felt like a fraud every time someone called her Becky or Miss Martin, her pastor and his wife had agreed that altering her name was necessary in order to keep Dillon from locating her. If her brother found her, there was no telling what he would do to her. A man who would set fire to a factory and accuse his own sister of having committed the crime was capable of almost anything.
He nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. I put great stock in honesty.”
She couldn’t be entirely truthful, but if her admission could help ease his misgivings about hiring her, perhaps she should be forthcoming about this particular issue. “If you must know, my brother did it.”
“I see.” Mr. O’Brien studied her. She resisted the urge to look away. Since she was going to be working for him, there would be no hiding beneath her bonnet. She might as well let him satisfy his curiosity. Lifting her head, she focused on his thick hair, admiring the lovely wave over his right eye.
“He must have used a good deal of force to leave bruises that haven’t faded yet. Did he make a habit of this?”
She couldn’t let him think she’d tolerated such behavior. “That was the first time. The only time. We’d just lost our father, and Dillon didn’t take it well.” Her understatement had taken on epic proportions. If she told Mr. O’Brien what she really thought about her brother and how many times she’d had to ask the Lord’s forgiveness for her dark mutterings the past few days, he might question her faith.
“That’s no excuse.” His voice was low but firm. “Nothing gives a man a reason to lash out at a woman. The scoundrel had better never show his face around here, or he’ll have me to deal with. You’ll be safe at my place.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t expect to see him again.” She wasn’t in danger since Dillon had no idea where she’d gone, but Mr. O’Brien’s protectiveness warmed her all the same. He wasn’t a rogue. How she knew, she couldn’t say, but something told her he was an honorable man, the kind a woman could trust.
“That’s good. Now, let me get Dr. Wright to examine you.”
The warmth that had enveloped her fled, replaced by a quickly spreading case of gooseflesh. If the doctor told Mr. O’Brien how much pain she was in, he’d find out she hadn’t been truthful. She’d seen his temper, and the possibility of it flaring up again gave her pause.
“Before you call him, there’s something you should know.”
* * *
James stood at the window in Dr. Wright’s waiting area. An inebriated miner staggered out of the Arch Saloon across the street and weaved his way up the walkway, clutching each of the posts supporting the balcony at the Cary House hotel as he passed.
Turning from the disturbing sight, James crossed the room and sat beside Mutti.
Miss Martin had suffered at the hands of her own brother, and yet she’d made excuses for him. It made no sense. Judging by the sickly yellowish-gray on her cheeks and her cautious movements, he’d obviously hit her repeatedly and hard. Well, she wouldn’t have to worry now. If the brute was to show up, he’d be sorry. James would make sure of that.
Mutti placed a hand on his bouncing leg. “Everything will be fine, Sohn.”
“I know you’re taken with her, but I’m not sure she’s up to the task of caring for you.”
“She will heal soon. You will see.” A radiant smile lit Mutti’s face. “The Lord sent this dear girl to us, I am sure. She is the answer to my prayers.”
He didn’t put much stock in prayer these days. God didn’t seem to care what happened to him. He just kept taking things away. His father. His future. Now Mutti’s days were numbered.
Before he could think of a tactful way to reroute the conversation, Miss Martin returned to the waiting area, followed by Dr. Wright. James shot to his feet. “How is she, Doctor?”
Miss Martin answered. “Nothing’s broken, so I’ll be better soon.” Her reassurance rang truer than before.
James grasped the back of the settee. “You need time to heal. Housework is out of the question. I’ll find someone else to take over for Mutti.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Dr. Wright addressed Miss Martin. “If you’ll get plenty of rest and avoid doing any heavy lifting during the next three weeks while your bruised ribs heal, you should be able to complete the household chores.”
Relief squeezed a sigh from James. He wouldn’t need to go in search of a nurse, after all. Since Miss Martin had generously offered to forgo payment in order to repay him for her train ticket, he wouldn’t have to increase his monthly expenses, either. Things were working out after all.
Mutti stood. “Then we can all go home now. I am eager for you to see the place, Becky. I am sure you will like it.” She paused and turned to James, her eyes wide. “Where will she stay? We cannot have a young woman living in the house with you there.”
Miss Martin’s audible intake of breath drew his attention. She pressed a hand to the frayed collar of her dingy black dress and smiled. But that wasn’t just any smile. It began with a wobble and grew until her lips parted and her eyes shone with unmistakable gratitude. Despite her discolored cheeks, she looked almost pretty with her face alight like that. “Your concern for my reputation means a great deal to me, but I won’t be a guest. I’ll be a hired worker. Besides, you’ll be there, so everything will be proper.”
“That will be good for the days, but I am thinking of the nights.” Mutti gently patted the young woman’s mottled cheeks. “I want you to care for me, but I do not want to make you the talk of the town’s gossips. An unmarried lady needs a chaperone.” She turned toward James.
Miss Martin faced him, too. A pink tinge added welcome color to her bruised face. He hadn’t noticed before, but the fair-skinned woman had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She’d said she was twenty-one, but she looked all of sixteen with the blush on her cheeks and expectancy in her eyes. “What can we do?”
Clearly, she meant what she’d said about wanting to care for Mutti. While he hadn’t wanted a young woman as a nurse, he had his answer. Miss Martin was the right person for the job. He’d have to come up with a solution. “I’ll think of something.”
Dr. Wright cleared his throat. “If I might make a suggestion. Would it be possible for you to move an extra bed into your mother’s room, James?”
He relaxed his tense shoulders and nodded. The ever-practical doctor had come up with the perfect solution. The propriety issue had been dealt with, and Mutti would have help close at hand. “I could put my sister’s old bed in there. I’ll see to that right away.”
They bid the doctor farewell. James helped his mother onto the wagon’s bench seat while Miss Martin waited. Something brushed his leg, and he jumped.
That pesky dog was back. “What are you doing here?” He held up his hands to keep the bedraggled animal at bay. “Shoo.”
Miss Martin patted her side and made a kissing sound. “Here, boy.”
The dog dashed over to her, and she stroked its matted coat. “You poor thing. Someone needs to give you a bath. I’m sure underneath all that mud you’re a fine-looking fellow.”
James had his doubts. The dog was so dirty it was impossible to tell what color fur it had. “Perhaps, but we need to be going.” The dog plopped down at James’s feet and peered at him with enormous brown eyes.
“I think he likes you. It appears he’s a stray. If you don’t have a dog, maybe you could—”
“I’ve got horses, a milk cow and chickens to tend. The last thing I need is a mutt like that.” He snapped his fingers at the filthy animal and pointed down the street. “Go on now.”
The mud-encrusted cur stood with his tail wagging as enthusiastically as ever. The dog needed someplace to call home, but the orchard wasn’t it.
Miss Martin cast a wistful look at the friendly animal. “I’m sorry, boy, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you. You’ll have to go.” The dog trotted off.
James fought the urge to give in just to see her smile again, but what he’d said was true. Having a dog would add to his workload. He held out a hand to help Miss Martin into the wagon.
A shout rang out from down the street, followed by the pounding of horses’ hooves on the hard-packed earth. “Mr. O’Brien!”
His neighbor’s ten-year-old son rode up to the wagon, leading his father’s saddled gelding behind him.
James patted the neck of the boy’s winded mare. “What is it, Bobby?”
The breathless boy forced the words out in snatches. “You gotta come. Quick. Me ’n’ Davy need your help.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_22e35f35-107c-5587-8ac5-220bab208613)
Worry dug its claws into Becky. She looked up at Mutti on the wagon seat above her. “What do you think is wrong?”
Mutti’s gaze was riveted on her son, who was talking with the troubled boy, but she didn’t seem overly concerned. “It might not be too serious. Since Bobby’s father is out of town, the young fellow probably panicked.”
Mr. O’Brien straightened, spun around and marched to the wagon with a frown on his angular face. “There’s a problem at the Strattons’ place. I need to get there right away.”
Becky’s fear intensified. “Is someone hurt?”
“No. Bobby’s younger brother broke the valve I installed up at the ditch, and there’s water gushing everywhere. It’ll cost their father and me a fortune if I don’t stop it. I need to get Mutti home. Can you drive a wagon?”
She couldn’t, but she didn’t dare tell him that. He already doubted her ability to handle the job. “I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
He yanked off his derby, swiped an arm across his brow and jammed the hat back on. “You didn’t answer my question. Can you, or can’t you?”
“I’m sure I can.” She’d seen Dillon and their father do it many times.
“Yes, you can.” Mutti reached down and rested a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “Do not worry, Sohn. I will help her.”
“You haven’t driven in years.”
“That is true, but I have not forgotten how. You can go. We will be fine.”
Mr. O’Brien scraped a hand over his scar. “The road to Diamond Springs is full of twists and turns, but it seems I don’t have any choice.”
Becky drew herself to her full height but only came to his chin. She did her best to sound confident. “You needn’t worry. We’ll take it nice and slow.”
He studied her a moment and shrugged. “I expect the repair to take a while, so don’t wait supper for me.” He strode to where Bobby waited and swung into the saddle on the larger horse in one graceful movement.
She climbed onto the driver’s seat, clutched the reins and watched as Mr. O’Brien and the red-haired boy took off with a flurry of dust. “What was he saying about a ditch?”
“It’s what they call a canal here. It delivers water to the gold mines, but farmers and orchardists use the ditches for irrigation. They pay a daily fee whenever they tap into one. If they use more water than the slow, steady stream they’ve contracted for—what’s known as a miner’s inch—the cost goes up.” She’d switched to German, as she had before when it was just the two of them.
Becky did the same. “No wonder he’s in such a hurry. Shall we head out, then?”
Weariness had bowed Mutti’s shoulders. Becky was eager to get the dear woman home.
“Let me show you how to hold the reins.” Mutti demonstrated. “Now switch them from your right hand to your left, release the brake and reposition them.”
She did, moving slowly so as not to hurt her ribs.
“Next you give the team their command. James uses ‘walk on.’”
As soon as the horses heard the words, they started up. When the wagon reached a road taking off to the south, Mutti placed her hands over Becky’s and showed her how to navigate the turn.
“Well done, my dear. It’s three miles to Diamond Springs. As James said, the road is curvy. We’re in no hurry, so we’ll let the horses walk and give you time to get used to driving.”
Thanks to Mutti’s gentle coaching, it didn’t take Becky long to feel comfortable. She kept a watchful eye on the road ahead.
The California countryside with its abundant trees and wildlife was much different than Chicago. She flinched when a bright blue bird Mutti said was a Steller’s jay let out a scratchy, scolding call and chuckled when a squirrel frolicked in the crowns of nearby oaks.
A flash of something brown caught Becky’s eye. The dog she’d befriended earlier bounded toward the wagon. His gleeful bark startled a flock of wild turkeys. The ungainly birds bolted from the underbrush, zigzagging their way across the clearing and into the road, screeching loudly.
The horses reared and took off running. Becky’s heart galloped along with them. She gripped the reins so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Hold on!”
Mutti clutched the edge of the seat as they went around a hairpin turn and gasped as the wagon rose up on two wheels.
Becky’s mouth went dry. The wagon wheels returned to the earth with a jarring thud. Bracing her boots against the footboard, she held the reins taut and prayed the team would slow before the next turn.
Gradually, the startled animals returned to a walk. Thank you, Lord. She spun to face Mutti. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just a bit shaken up, but I’ll be fine.”
“Good. For a minute there I wasn’t sure how things were going to turn out. I’d better see to the team.” She pulled to a stop, handed the reins to Mutti and climbed down. Using slow, soothing strokes, she patted the horses’ broad faces.
Once she was convinced they were over the worst of their fright and that there was no apparent damage to the wagon, she looked for the dog, but he was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t fault him for upsetting the horses. From her place on the wagon seat, it had been clear he was chasing after her and not the flighty flock.
She returned to the wagon, and they set out again.
Mutti patted her arm. “You handled that well. I’ll tell James you make a fine driver.”
The rest of the drive to Diamond Springs went smoothly. At Mutti’s request, Becky stopped at the butcher shop. She’d been wedged between Jessie and Callie when they’d passed through the town on their way to Placerville and hadn’t seen much from the stagecoach.
A handful of shops lined both sides of the wide, rutted road. She recognized Harris’s general store, where the coach had stopped to pick up a passenger on their way through town. Tantalizing scents wafted from the restaurant at the Washington House hotel nearby. “So this is Diamond Springs. There’s not much to it, is there?”
“It might be small, but it has the basic necessities. The people are friendly. My William and I liked it here. That’s why we stayed. James liked it, too, but Katharina couldn’t wait to grow up and move to the city. My girl lives in a fancy house in San Francisco with her lawyer husband, Artie, and their five-year-old daughter, Lottie. We don’t see much of them.”
Mutti gazed into the distance with a faraway expression on her face. “James went away, too, but he came back after the terrible accident that nearly took him from us. He was with me when William died two years ago and has been here ever since. I don’t know what I’d have done without him. I couldn’t manage the orchard on my own.”
As much as Becky wanted to ask what kind of accident and if it had caused Mr. O’Brien’s scar, it wasn’t her place to pry. “Was the town always so small?”
“It’s always been pretty much a one-street town, but when we arrived in ’54 it was busier. A lot more mining was going on then. There are only nine hundred or so in Diamond Springs Township now.”
