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They slept peacefully that night. As expected, no-one thought of looking at the old ranch; had they done so they would have caught all three easily as they were all fast asleep. Cavendish woke to find the young girl curled up in his arms. She saw him for what he was, a decent man protecting her and her mother. Her mother saw him too – she saw the fuller picture of the decent man with normal libido; but she was grateful that his decency held sway where her daughter and she were concerned. She trusted him. Cavendish was right that if he was caught his death would be painful and long; Jeb had already decided that the punishment would be particularly nasty: buried to his neck with honey on his face. He’d heard that this was something that Indians did, whether true or not it appealed to his sadistic side. But they looked in the wrong place, found no-one except a Mexican who they beat-up for information which he didn’t have.
The next night they moved on. For three days they travelled only at night. None of them were trackers or hunters, they had no idea if they were leaving a clear roadway of their journey or not, but the fact that they weren’t found suggested that they were at least not leaving too obvious clues.
At Boskill they rested, joined a group travelling west and carried on the journey to California. People assumed they were mother, father and child; though some thought he looked young they assumed he had led a healthy life.
They were sharing a small wagon which he had managed to buy from a family whose numbers had dropped from 10 to 6 over the journey from the East. In that wagon Cavendish felt self-conscious about addressing the question of the bargain with Marie, her daughter was there. The weather in the latter part of the year was turning colder, they all three tended to snuggle down together to keep warm. It was inevitable that his body got the better of him sometimes and Marie would look at him with a smile as his erection started to dig into her, she hoped that when Jesse was between then she didn’t feel it, or maybe didn’t realise what it was. She was wrong on both counts. Once, when Marie was out attending to her call of nature, Jesse had said “I know you want me, I wouldn’t mind”, but he was a man of his word and simply replied that all things came to those who waited. She was right though, he did want the young girl’s body, he wanted the woman’s body too; actually he would have settled for a goat on occasions!
At Carson City, they left the group, who were aiming to settle around Lake Tahoe.
The settlers advised against making the journey over the mountains so late in the year, “The passes will block with snow, you’ll all die” said one cheerfully mournful Job’s comforter. They had replaced the wagon for five horses, waved to their erstwhile companions and set off. What was the hurry? All had their own reasons. Jesse’s were simplest, she wanted to see the ocean, she had lived inland all her life and she wanted to see the wide sea. Marie was keen to put as much distance between her and her recent past as possible; so was Cavendish, but more because he thought they might still be after them. Marie wondered what they would do in California; if they had money she would have started a small boarding house or restaurant; but they had nothing. Most of the money she had got from Jeb’s business had been spent. Cavendish was thinking he might travel north from there, or maybe take a ship to the East – Japan or China perhaps. He had no definite plans, but that was just as well.
“We should have taken their advice” Cavendish Young admitted to himself, and then to the others. The snow was thick now, the horses struggled and stumbled. Jesse was shivering, though not complaining. She was tougher than she looked.
“We did what we did” was Marie’s only reply; she too was tougher than she looked, certainly more fatalistic than her husband had ever been. As they rode towards what she assumed might be their death in the snow, she retreated into thinking. She took the view that people were responsible for themselves (and their children), that’s why she’d agreed to work for Jeb, to support herself and her daughter. That hadn’t worked out well of course, Jeb was a rattlesnake. No, not a rattlesnake, they warn you before they will strike, he didn’t, he was untrustworthy where almost all animals were not. A grizzly perhaps, they would charge for no reason if they didn’t like you, she’d been told. She thought of her parents and wondered if they thought of her. She offered silent prayer that if they survived she would at the very least write to them. She realised now that her husband had not taken responsibility for what happened to him ... or them. He always had a reason, bad luck, untrustworthy businessmen, the weather; never that he just got it wrong. She thought of Jeb again, no, she didn’t get that wrong, she knew from day one that he couldn’t be trusted; but she had hoped something would turn up and in the meantime Jesse ate. Well, something did turn up, just in time too. Now she hoped that something else would turn up.
“There’s a hut” whispered the girl “There’s a hut! Look!” she pointed painfully, the movement allowing freezing air to creep in and set her shivering harder. Smoke was drifting above it.
“We’ll need to be careful” Cavendish said as they approached. Mountain men might welcome the female companionship in ways he was unwilling to share. As they got off their horses, a wooden shutter opened a little and a rifle barrel appeared. “S’okay, we aren’t robbers, we need to warm ourselves if we may, then we’ll move on”
A gruff voice said “How many of you?”
Cavendish responded, “Three”
“Move on”
Now Marie joined, she could see Jesse was on her last legs “Please sir, my daughter will die if she doesn’t warm”
“You’re a woman? And a child?” said the voice, less gruffly. “You two come in. You, mister, take the horses round back, there’s a byre with hay, not much, but it’ll do”
Cavendish helped Jesse from her horse and the two females headed for the door, he led the horses round through the snow. In truth he was as badly off as the other two, he was no man-mountain, nor a mountain man. He was an average, town-bred guy finally completely out of his depth. He too thought this might be the anonymous end of his life. The byre proved to be better than he’d hoped, it wasn’t just a leant-to, but a half building against a cliff with trees in front providing more protection. He put the horses in with the mule that was already there. The mule looked pleased, if mules can look pleased, to have company; he gave them food; he put blankets over them before staggering to the door and pushing it open. He was greeted by two surprising sights.
A shotgun was pointed at his stomach, there was no doubt it would kill him where a bullet at such close range might pass through and leave him alive.
The holder of the shotgun was a woman. “Take off your gun, slowly. I’m the only person gonna be armed in this house” he recognised the voice, this was the gruff voice, the falsely gruff voice they had heard earlier.
“You alone?” He realised immediately that was the wrong thing to say, it would sound threatening “I mean, look ... I’m no threat” He took his gun off and placed it on the floor.
“Kick it over here”
“No. It is a precision piece of equipment, I’m not kicking it. I’ll move back if you like” He took three steps back and hit the door. There wasn’t enough room for the woman to move forwards. She was wrapped in furs like she had been outside, in the room it was warm and she was starting to sweat. They had a standoff.
Jesse crept forward and picked up the gun, moving it to the table. The shotgun was lowered. “What the fuck are you three doing out here in this weather?” she started to take off her furs as the others also removed outerwear
“Might ask the same of you?” responded Cavendish, adding as her face became visible “Not a normal place for a lone young woman. Relax! I am not a threat!” She had started raising the gun again, this was a very wary woman.
“I’m a prospector. I came here with my ma and pa. Ma died from cholera the first year. Pa died when the mine caved in. I’m not giving up! The lode is there, Pa was sure and I’m gonna find it – why are you smiling?”
Cavendish had heard of people desperate to find gold, ‘gold fever’ it was called. “I apologise. But are you sure this is a worthwhile enterprise? Why did your father think he could find the lode?”
“Papa had traced where others were mining, the seam disappeared a mile or more away, he figured by mining here we’d come to the fault where the seam had dropped to. Papa has to be right!” The girl, now he could see she was maybe eighteen at most, was near exhaustion and near to tears. She was trying to keep from starving, open the mine (and dig out her dead father), and protect the claim. Something had to give and it was starting to be her health.
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