Jim hesitated a moment before going on. “Or worse yet, by then someone will find out about the valley and what we have. We’ll never get the gold out with that group from Bidwell’s here. I heard in Onionville that several shipments from Bidwell’s were stolen, the guards all killed. I’d wager Cord Bannen had a hand in those.”
David rose and walked over to the fireplace. “It makes sense, but I still don’t like it.”
“Ellen,” Jim said. “You’ve been unusually quiet this evening.”
She looked at her hands before answering, and Jim noticed a tremor to them. She met his gaze and said, “Jim, I don’t like any of this. I almost wish we hadn’t found it. You could have been killed. Maybe we have enough already. Maybe we should just pick up and go—go somewhere else. Somewhere with no gold and no men with guns chasing you.”
Her eyes were damp with unshed tears. She hadn’t been sleeping well, not since he’d returned. Jim didn’t know how to answer her. How could they give up on their dream of a real ranch? What they earned here in a few months could be the answer to their prayers.
We can’t just walk away.
It was David who answered.
“It isn’t right,” he said. He stood tall then, power and conviction filling his voice. “We found this gold. We worked for it. I will not run from petty thieves. I will not let them take what is ours. I will fight them for every grain.”
They all looked at him, Jim included. He’d never heard David speak in such a manner. Normally he was a mild-mannered gentleman, but the trail from Kansas and the long months of bitter winter had hardened the eastern man into an ingot of solid steel.
“You’re right, it is our gold. We worked for it. I will fight with you,” Jim said. “We all will.”
Abigail, Martha, and Ellen each nodded along, and with their agreement the die was cast. The next shipment, the biggest yet, would go to San Francisco. Not even Cord Bannen would stop them.
Chapter 16
When Jim made the decision to go to San Francisco, he’d planned on traveling alone. He rose early in the morning, enough so that only David was awake to greet him.
Together they loaded the gold, four large sacks’ worth, onto a packhorse. While David covered the sacks in blankets and rolled canvas, Jim got the Appaloosa ready. The black-and-white horse seemed eager to be on the trail after so many days of idleness. Jim stroked his nose, and said, “We’ve a long trip ahead of us. Hope you rested well.”
There was movement in the barn behind him. David must have finished with the packhorse.
“All ready?” Jim asked.
“Not quite.” It was Ellen who answered. She was dressed warmly, much too warmly to spend all day in the cabin, and she had a pack slung over her shoulder.
Jim watched her cross the barn to where her own horse was stabled. She led the mare out and started to pick up the saddle before Jim moved to help her.
“You riding to the edge of the valley with me?” he asked.
“I think a little farther.”
Jim readied her horse and she secured her bag behind the saddle. Together, they both stepped out of the barn.
The whole family had turned out to see him off. Walt rubbed grit from his eyes and fought a losing battle with a wide yawn. Alma looked bright eyed, Martha too. Ellen gave her mother and father each a hug, followed by a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Be careful,” Abigail said.
“Always,” Ellen answered, then climbed into the saddle.
Jim gave David a puzzled look, and the older man only shrugged. While passing Jim the packhorse’s reins, he said, “I tried to talk her out of it.”
“Out of what?”
“Ready?” Ellen said. Without waiting for an answer, she started her mare west toward the valley’s end and Onionville beyond.
Jim had to scramble up into the saddle and spur the Appaloosa to catch up.
“What’s all this about?” Jim said.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ellen answered. The sun was coming up behind them, the gold rays painting the mountains all around. Ellen smiled at Jim and said, “It’s going to be a beautiful sunrise, isn’t it?”
“I believe so.”
They rode to the edge of the valley. When they reached it, he expected Ellen to stop. Instead, she forged ahead, down the twisting path toward Onionville. She said nothing of her intentions, though Jim tried to ask. Still, he was pleased to have her along. Between her parents and the children, they had spent little time alone.
Maybe she’s got something to pick up in town.
Onionville wasn’t far ahead, and he almost dreaded leaving her there. They went on in near silence. Jim’s mind covered the route to San Francisco. He’d never been over to the coast himself, but he’d pieced together a good bit of the trail from travelers or stories Donovan had told him.
The morning was half gone when they reached the edge of town. Jim dreaded Ellen’s parting. How long until he saw her again? Three days to the coast, a day or two to sell the gold, three more to return. Since they’d met, he’d never been away for so long.
He brought the Appaloosa to a halt and said, “I’ll skirt around. No sense taking a packhorse right through the middle of town. Someone might get to asking what I’m hauling.”
Ellen nodded and let him lead. She followed him on a wide loop around town and he pulled up at the far side.
“If I go on farther I should hit the main trail,” Jim said. “I’ll be back in five or six days.”
Ellen said nothing.
“I’ll miss you the whole time.”
