By the time Jem got home, his lips, tongue, and fingers had turned dark purple.
Ellie told him so.
“Your whole face is purple,” Jem said, frowning.
He felt sick inside. Not sick from eating the pie scraps. That was the best part of this terrible afternoon.
But… what would Mama say?
Jem did not have to wait long to find out.
“Good heavens!” Mama’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked at Jem and Ellie.
Then she hurried to the wagon and looked inside. A choked sound came from her throat.
For sure she was counting the pies. Or what was left of them.
Her shoulders slumped. “How did this happen, Jeremiah?”
Jem’s tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I…” He swallowed. “I sat on the pies. I’m sorry, Mama.”
“That mean rich boy pushed Jem right onto them.”
Jem sighed. Leave it to Ellie to blurt out the whole thing.
Mama did not have to ask any more questions. Ellie talked faster than a chattering chipmunk.
When she finished, Mama sat down on a big stump and sighed. Then she held out her arms. “Come here.”
Jem rushed to her. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Ellie said.
Mama hugged them tight. “Never mind about the pies. These things happen.”
Her voice sounded tired and sad.
“I guess I shouldn’t have pushed Will,” Jem said. “Maybe he really was teasing. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken a pie.”
He took a big breath. “He never has before.”
“He mostly picks on us and says mean things,” Ellie said. “Then he goes away.”
Just then Pa walked up. He glanced inside the pie wagon. His eyebrows went up.
He looked at Jem. “Will Sterling?”
Jem nodded. How did Pa know?
“Cheer up, Son.”
Pa picked Jem up and tossed him in the air. Then he set him down and ruffled his hair. “I know you did your best to take care of Mama’s pies.”
Jem smiled. Pa sure knew how to make a boy feel good.
The afternoon got better after that.
Ellie helped Mama clean up the pie mess. They piled the crust crumbs and the blueberry filling into a big pot.
Pa and Jem pulled the wagon to Cripple Creek and rinsed it out. Pa helped Jem wash his hands and face and the seat of his pants.
Jem shivered. The water felt colder than melted snow.
Later, Pa helped Mama load up ten more blueberry pies.
Jem eyed the wagon. He didn’t want to deliver those pies. Will might come after him again.
Pa’s strong, warm hand squeezed his shoulder. “Want some help with those pies? I feel like taking a walk into town.” He winked.
Jem’s heart leaped. “Oh yes, Pa!”
Ellie stayed home with Mama, so it was just Jem and Pa.
Jem kept the wagon from falling into the ruts. Pa pulled the handle.
With Pa’s help, they finished their deliveries in a jiffy.
Pa explained things to the miners who didn’t get their pies. “You can come out to the claim and help yourself to what’s left. No charge.”
The miners laughed. “Aw, Matt, we can wait.”
It was suppertime when Jem and Pa got back.
Jem was not hungry. Ellie probably wasn’t either. They were filled to the brim with pie scraps.
But Jem ate what Mama gave him—a big piece of cornbread and a spoonful of brown beans. He washed them down with water.
“There’s still plenty of light,” Jem said after supper. He pointed toward the creek. “Can I pan for gold?”
“May I pan for gold,” Mama said.
Mama sure was fussy about the way Jem talked. He sighed. “May I pan for gold?”
“Me too!” Ellie bounced up and down on the tree stump she used for a chair.
Jem rolled his eyes. “You gotta stay on your own claim.”
“I will. I promise.” She grabbed an empty pie pan.
“You may both go,” Mama said. She looked at Pa. “How is the new rocker box working?”
Pa grinned. “It hasn’t fallen apart yet.”
He picked up his pan. “Come on, kids. Let’s pan some gold.”
Ellie grabbed Pa’s hand and skipped beside him. Jem ran ahead.
Their gold claims were not far. Pa could throw a rock from their tent and hit them.
Strike’s claim sat next to the Coulters’ claims. It looked lonely without the friendly miner and his donkey.
Another miner, Pearly Teeth, was digging a big hole on the other side of Pa’s claim.
“You never know when you might hit color in one of these,” he said to Jem.
A shovelful of dirt went flying.
Jem jumped out of the way. Rule four. Watch out for coyote holes.
Coyote holes were not full of coyotes. Most of them were not full of gold either.
The miners kept on digging. They dug holes all over the place.
But they never found much gold.
“Yoo-hoo, Strike!” Pa hollered. “You’re back.”
Jem pulled his gaze away from Pearly Teeth’s newest coyote hole.
