2

Katherine rolled over, delighting in the soft ground beneath her body. Warm too – she had not felt so warm at night in a long time. But the fingers of her right hand ached. Why? And why were they clutched into such a tight fist?

She pulled her hand from beneath the blanket. Blinked away the fuzziness of sleep. Opened her eyes. Saw nothing but grey. But wait – directly in front of her was a square of warm light. A window.

Of course, that’s why she felt so cozy. She was not curled beside a dead campfire with early morning dew making everything damp and chill, but snug in her own bed with a mattress and blankets to keep her warm. And yet her fingers ached. She opened them slowly to reveal the nugget. Pressed tight against her palm, it glowed deep gold. Katherine thought back to the first time she ever saw the nugget, held just this way in Susan’s hand as they stood side by side on the steamer’s deck.

“Do you see?” Her sister held the nugget, shimmering under a harsh southern sun. “It looks just like a rose, as if someone had carved it that way.”

Katherine tucked the nugget back into its cloth bag but still held it in her hand. No. She could never sell the golden rose, not ever. How could she even think such a thing? Which left her no other choice. If she couldn’t part with the gold nugget, she would need to sell its namesake.

Katherine was surprised how easily she came to accept this choice, once her decision was made. They did not need two horses on the farm, eating hay all winter long. With only Duke and Genevieve, there might be enough feed to last until spring. And the money from the sale would buy much-needed provisions.

As soon as her chores were done, she would ride into Hope and inquire if anyone was looking to purchase a strong, fast horse. She slid out of bed and picked up the little pile of clothing she had worn on her trip. Pants, shirt, vest and jacket all were filthy from long days on the trail. Come wash day she would scrub them clean, hang them in the sunshine to dry, then tuck them safely away. The possibility was still there, still hovering so close she could almost reach out and touch it. The possibility that one day she might wear them again.

She dressed in a cotton blouse and a full skirt that brushed the tops of her boots, then hurried outside. The first rays of sun peeked around the mountainside, landing on bright pearls of dew, making the fields sparkle like early frost. She wrapped her cold fingers around the milk pail handle. How long would it be until a real frost?

With the milking done, Katherine left the pail inside the shed and walked to the field where both horses were hobbled. Nugget raised her head and walked over to Katherine, uttering a soft snort. A snort that said so much. Good Morning. I’m happy to see you. What shall we do today?

Katherine reached up to rub her horse’s broad forehead. Her eyes stung. “I’m so sorry...” she began, but couldn’t go on. She turned away.

She walked to her garden, filled with an impossible hope that there might be more vegetables than she remembered. There were great holes in the long, neat rows she had worked so hard to cultivate all summer long. The bear had dug up potatoes, carrots and turnips, but not all were lost. Beet greens had been chomped down to nothing, but with luck there would still be beets beneath the soil. What remained needed to be dug up and stored for winter. If they were very careful, there might be enough to last until Christmas. She went back to retrieve the milk, her last hope gone.

Katherine announced her plans at the breakfast table. “I’m riding into Hope this morning,” she said, “to see what I can get for my horse.”

Mother replaced her teacup on its saucer and glanced up sharply. She opened her mouth as if to speak.

Katherine held her breath. Perhaps Mother had another suggestion? Some idea that had not occurred to her until this very moment?

But Mother only nodded and glanced toward Father, who spooned some porridge into his mouth, swallowed, and frowned. “You’d best leave that to George.”

“No!” Katherine bit her lip to keep from saying more. Defiance was no way to handle her father, Katherine knew that now. She paused, took a quick breath, and made an effort to soften her voice. “Father, please. I bought Nugget myself, she’s my horse and I’d like to be the one to sell her.”

Katherine stopped, wondering if she should go on, but the words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. “Mother has a long list of supplies we need to see us through winter, and I know you won’t want any of us to go without.”

Mother’s tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. George gave his customary grunt. Katherine studied her father. Had she gone too far? Father felt guilty enough for bringing them here, to this wild, empty country where nothing turned out as he expected.

She would have been relieved that Father chose to sidestep her comment if he hadn’t turned instead to inquiring about Nugget. “Katherine, I can’t imagine how you purchased the horse in the first place. I was unaware that you had money of your own.”

Oh. Oh no. Katherine had never told her family about Susan’s gold nugget. It was a cherished secret, her private connection to Susan. But she couldn’t lie to her father. She had no money of her own and he knew that well enough. “I had a gold nugget,” she whispered, “that Susan gave me.”

A hush fell over the room at the mention of her sister’s name.

“And where did Susan get such a nugget?”

“From Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, aboard the steamer. They were returning from England to their plantation in Jamaica and Susan took care of their baby when all three were so awfully seasick. You see, they believed Susan saved Baby Rose’s life and that’s why they gave her the nugget. They thought it appropriate because it was shaped like a rose.”

Should she mention the storekeeper in Yale? On the day Katherine went into his store to purchase supplies for her journey, she had offered the gold nugget as payment. The storekeeper held it on his palm and turned it over with his fingertips.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

As it turned out, the storekeeper was Charles Roberts, the very man who had sent the nugget as a gift to his older brother’s family when Baby Rose was born. “My brother wrote me of your sister,” he said. “He is most grateful to her.”

When Charles Roberts learned of Susan’s death, he felt so sorry he refused to take any payment at all.

And so Katherine still had the nugget. Best to keep this information to herself, she decided. Yale was not so very far away, and if Father ever got talking to him, the storekeeper might reveal more than she wanted him to know. He might mention Katherine was not alone that day but had hired her friend, a young Indian guide named William, to help catch up to her brother.

“Susan took care of everyone,” Mother broke into her thoughts. “Everyone except herself.”

Father cleared his throat. “Nevertheless, it isn’t fitting for a young girl...”

George slurped his last spoonful of hot porridge, drowned in fresh, warm milk, into his mouth and dropped his spoon, clattering into the empty bowl. “Seems to me,” he began in his slow, clumsy way, “that Katherine rode the horse all the way up to Cariboo Country on her own. Seems to me, riding a few miles into Hope should not be a problem for her.”

Katherine’s mouth fell open. She pushed it shut with the heel of her hand. A grin threatened to spread across her face but she managed to suppress it.

“Well...” Father’s face flushed pink, “...but she was riding astride the horse, as if she were a...”

“Boy,” George finished for him. “That was clever of her. Katherine never could have travelled so far dressed as a girl. And she would not have beaten me in a horse race by riding side-saddle, I can assure you.”

“George is right, Peter,” Mother said. “These colonies are teeming with men. From what I’ve heard, scarcely one in a hundred has a hope of finding a wife. Katherine was wise to disguise herself as a boy.”

Katherine leaned closer to their father. “Is that what worries you, Father? That I will embarrass you by riding into town wearing breeches and using a man’s saddle? Well, I won’t, you see, because I’m wearing a skirt today.”

Father glared from one of his children to the other and then at his wife. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I still don’t like it,” he muttered.

Katherine knew she had won. She could climb on Nugget this very morning and ride away from the farm. No one would object, not her father, not her mother, not even George. Well, especially not George. For the first time in years, George was on her side. She smiled, but somehow the smile didn’t feel right. It stuck on her lips and wouldn’t go any further. All her life Katherine had wanted to win an argument with her father, but now that it had happened, instead of feeling happy she felt hollow inside. “Maybe George could come with me,” she offered – why, she wasn’t at all sure, because she really wanted to go alone. But as soon as she said it, Katherine began to feel happier. Likely because her mother’s shoulders relaxed, George leaned back, smiling, and her father sat up a little straighter.

Her fingers brushed against the deep pocket of her skirt. She had not lied to her family, not exactly, even if she neglected to mention she still had Susan’s gold nugget. She wondered if Susan would approve.

After breakfast Mother fetched a straw bonnet and placed it firmly on Katherine’s head. The hat slid over her eyebrows and covered her ears. With fingers made strong over many months of kneading bread, milking Genevieve, and a dozen other tasks, Mother proceeded to tuck every last strand of Katherine’s rich brown hair up under the hat.

“Ow!” Katherine complained. “You’re hurting me.”

Mother didn’t ease up. “You mustn’t let anyone see your hair like this. What on earth would they think?”

“That I have short hair?”

Mother’s fingers worked even harder, hurting her with their fierce jabs. “Honestly, Katherine, sometimes you drive me to distraction!” Selecting a wide blue ribbon, she tied the hat on with a tight bow under Katherine’s chin. Then she stepped back, planted her hands on her hips, and cocked her head to one side, frowning. “It will have to do.”

Katherine picked up her mother’s hand mirror. “I look ridiculous,” she moaned. “I look like an enormous toadstool.”

“If you don’t want to go...”

“I do.”

“Then you must promise me you will not remove the bonnet.”

Reluctantly, Katherine agreed.

George hitched Duke to the wagon and Katherine followed behind on Nugget.

Almost as bad as the hat, she felt silly wearing a long skirt after becoming used to the much more practical breeches. Worse even than the skirt or hat, however, was sitting on her horse side-saddle. She felt nervous having both legs on the same side, with her right leg bent at an uncomfortable angle. Katherine struggled to maintain her balance, fearing she would topple off at any second.

Nugget felt it too. The horse pressed her ears back and kept twisting her neck to look behind until Katherine patted her soft, warm neck. “It’s all right, girl,” she soothed. A lump rose in her throat. Nugget couldn’t know this would be their last ride together.

They reached the dusty main street of Hope far too soon. A sternwheeler chugged around a bend in the Fraser, billowing black smoke as it readied itself to fight through the rapids up to Yale. Many of the sternwheelers bypassed Hope lately, since Governor Douglas decided to begin the Cariboo Wagon Road upriver at Yale.

Only two horses were in sight, one tied in front of the general store, the other hitched to a wagon farther down the road. Three men, each with a heavy beard, each wearing a wide-brimmed hat, jacket, vest, trousers and high boots, lounged on wooden chairs under the store’s wide overhang. They drank coffee from tin mugs and discussed worldly matters.

As Katherine stopped her horse in front of the store she overheard one of the men say, “Biggest fish you can imagine. But it got away.”

Another mumbled something about the biggest fish always getting away. Katherine smiled to herself, thinking of Father. He insisted that men only conversed on important topics such as which side would win the civil war in the United States or whether British Columbia should remain a British colony or become an American state. Father said women wasted hours chattering incessantly about insignificant matters. That’s why men must spend so much time sitting, talking, reading newspapers or simply staring into space. Who would solve the world’s problems if they did not?

Katherine stopped listening. She had important matters of her own to consider. Such as how to dismount without making a fool of herself.

Her legs were set in an awkward position, both on Nugget’s left side, her right knee bent around a curved pommel. How was she supposed to swing that leg over Nugget’s back and slide to the ground as she had become used to doing? She managed to free her right leg and attempted to twist in the saddle in order to face toward the horse’s left side. But her leg got tangled in the full fabric of her long skirt. Struggling to free it, she didn’t notice her left boot slip out of the stirrup, so was surprised to find herself dangling from Nugget’s side. She grabbed for the saddle horn. Too late, she remembered there wasn’t one.

The men stopped talking. Katherine felt their eyes watching, imagined their amused expressions. Her cheeks burned. How could she get out of this gracefully? Over Nugget’s back, she saw George leap from the wagon, loop Duke’s reins over a wooden bar, and start over to help her.

Katherine hated feeling so clumsy. She hated those three men. Imagined them puffing on their pipes, leaning back in their chairs, enjoying her plight. She hated George too, for being so free while she hung here as helpless as a harpooned salmon. Well, she would not wait for her brother to save her. She would slip to the ground on her own with as much dignity as she could muster. Katherine grabbed the pommel and twisted her leg free of the skirt.

If only the heel of her right boot had not caught in the hem of her skirt, if only Nugget had not taken a quick step sideways, everything would have been fine. As it was, Katherine landed awkwardly on her left foot and lost her balance, toppling toward the horse just as Nugget took a second step away. Katherine collapsed onto the road. Her hands broke her fall, but her face landed in the dust.

“Katherine!” George crouched at her side. “Are you hurt?” He helped her to a sitting position.

Nothing hurt other than her pride. “No,” she snapped, “I’m perfectly fine.” But there was dust in her mouth and up her nose, she felt the gritty taste of it on her tongue, and she was sitting on the road while three men stared at her with their mouths gaping open as if they’d never seen anyone fall from a horse before.

“Your hat!” George jammed the bonnet back on her head.

She had not noticed until then that it was hanging down her back, the blue ribbon still tied at her throat. The men must have noticed, even though her brother was quick to block their view. Katherine could tell by the feel of it that the bonnet perched at a ridiculous angle on her head. She realized that her hair, so carefully tucked in by Mother, now hung loose beneath the brim. She glanced up at the men, at their wide eyes and half open mouths, and suddenly pictured exactly how she must look to them.

The laugh caught her by surprise. Her mouth twisted into a smile that spread across her face so fast it could not be subdued. Then a chuckle formed beneath her ribs, a chuckle that grew and expanded even as she bit hard on her bottom lip to hold it back.

Her eyes flicked to George. That was a mistake. Little creases pulled at the edges of his mouth and crinkled his eyes. Katherine was lost. She doubled over, gasping, chortling, helpless with laughter. In the next second they were all laughing, Katherine, George, and the three strangers, not one of them able to stop.

Finally George wiped his eyes and helped Katherine to her feet. She turned to the men and gave a graceful curtsey, which made them laugh even harder. One slapped his hand against his thigh. Another tried to speak but snorted with laughter instead. All three clapped to show their appreciation.

Sometimes it’s difficult to make a laugh go away, especially if you haven’t had a good chuckle in a long time. Katherine couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. She tried to swallow the laughter, but it kept bubbling up and so she was grateful when George tied Nugget’s reins for her. He took her arm, and the two of them hurried inside the store.

A woman of about Mother’s age stood behind the counter. She had a thin, pretty face with clear, intelligent eyes. She smiled at the two laughing young people, her head cocked to one side as if hoping to share in the joke.

Katherine’s laughter died. A memory threatened to overwhelm her. A memory of the last time she had laughed so helplessly and Mother had smiled in exactly the same way.

“Good Morning, Madame Landvoight,” George greeted the storekeeper.

“Oh, so it is you, Georges!” She pronounced both “g”s in a soft, pretty way that made his name sound so completely different Katherine didn’t recognize it at first. “You have returned so soon to town?”

George nodded. “My family needed me.”

Madame Landvoight was a small and lively woman. When she turned her attention to Katherine, her eyes lingered for a moment on the large, crooked hat and the strands of short brown hair that hung down Katherine’s neck and over her ears.

“And la jeune fille? She is your sister?”

“Uh, yes, my sister, Katherine.” George paused. “Do you know, she rode halfway to the Cariboo after me? She cut her hair short and wore breeches so she would look like a boy.”

Katherine glanced at George. For the second time today, he had spoken up for her. Might he actually be proud of her? She smiled at her brother, sorry for thinking she hated him.

“Eh, bravo, Katrine!”

Katherine turned back to Madame Landvoight. “Oh, but please, don’t tell anyone else. You see, my parents don’t approve of what I did.”

“They will be proud of your ingenuity, yes? A pretty girl must be always careful!”

No one had ever called her pretty before. Her face was too long and narrow, her straight hair an ordinary, mousy brown, and her eyes too dark and too close together. Nothing like Susan’s golden curls and bright blue eyes.

“And what may I help you wit’ today, Katrine?”

Madame Landvoight had a musical way of speaking. Her voice rose at the end of every sentence as if she were asking a question, and the way she pronounced her words sounded quite exotic to Katherine. She especially liked the sound of own name. Katrine. But she had come here for a purpose and mustn’t put it off any longer.

“We need supplies.” Katherine glanced at her brother, who wandered away, his hands thrust into his pockets. She pulled a crumpled list from her pocket.

“C’est bon. You have come to the right place.”

“The problem is...” Again Katherine glanced at George, but he had become quite fascinated by a shelf of canned goods. She drew a quick breath. “The problem is, we are a bit short of money. So...” Her voice broke. She stared straight ahead, over Madame Landvoight’s left shoulder. “I want to sell my horse, Nugget. She’s a beauty!”

Madame Landvoight frowned. “I am certain that you have a very good horse, Katrine. Sadly, I do not need a horse. I am so sorry.”

Katherine stared down at the toes of her boots, coated thick with road dust. She pictured her face. It must be as dusty as the boots. She raised her hand to wipe it and the memory returned, slamming into her with such force she gasped with the pain of it.

She and Susan were at the hotel in Panama. They were exhausted, hot, and coated in a sticky layer of dust. Eager for a bath, Susan had poured some water into the huge tub. It was the colour of mud. She stared at the water, tears trickling down her dusty cheeks. She wiped at them but only succeeded in turning her entire face into a brown mask. Two weary blue eyes blinked out at Katherine. A huge mosquito landed on her sister’s forehead. Without thinking, Katherine smacked it. Bright red blood mingled with the mud on Susan’s face.

Katherine burst out laughing. Her sister looked puzzled until Katherine handed her a mirror. One glimpse of her reflection and Susan laughed as hysterically as Katherine. They laughed until their stomachs hurt and their mother walked in, head cocked to one side, wondering what could be so funny.

Now, this morning, only a few minutes ago, Katherine had laughed in that same way again. Her throat tightened, her eyes stung. How could she laugh with Susan lying in her grave?

Katherine’s hand, clutching the list of supplies, fell to her side. She curled her fingers and crumpled it into a ball. George grunted. His heavy footsteps stomped out the door. It slammed shut behind him. Katherine turned to follow.

“There is one thing...” Madame Landvoight said.

Katherine stopped. “Yes?”

The storekeeper bent to retrieve a large book from under the counter. “There is a man who buys horses from all those poor miners who return from the Cariboo wit’ nothing but rags to wear and their money all gone.”

She opened the book. “Every autumn he takes the horses to Victoria, where men are eager to buy them. Some of those rich gentlemen will pay much money for a horse who will win races for them.”

The storekeeper pronounced English words so differently from the way Katherine was used to hearing that she had to concentrate to understand.

“Nugget is very fast,” she said, “and she loves to race.”

“Ah, c’est bien.”

“How can I find this horse trader?”

“Ah, there is the difficult part. He does not live here.”

Katherine squeezed her eyes shut. If the horse trader didn’t live in Hope, how could she find him and sell her horse to him? How could she get money for the supplies they needed right now?

“But wait, I have the idea.” Madame Landvoight flipped through her book, muttering to herself. When she found the page she was looking for, she ran her finger down a column. “Ah, oui! You must talk wit’ him in deux semaines...ah,” she paused and pressed her fingertips to her forehead, “pardon, two weeks from tomorrow. He will visit our store on that day to deliver our winter supplies from Victoria.”

Two more weeks. Today she would ride Nugget back home. She would ride Nugget every day for the next two weeks. Beyond that, she refused to think. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll be here.”

Madame Landvoight measured some flour into a sack and added it to a neat pile of packaged goods she had already placed on the counter. “For today, I have these things ready for you, Katrine,” she said. She touched each package in turn. “Flour, sugar, tea, salt, bacon, and rolled oats for your porridge.”

“But...” Katherine objected. How could she pay? Her parents would never accept charity. They would rather starve.

“You will pay me soon, when you have the money from the horse.” Madame Landvoight handed a folded paper to Katherine. “I have written the amount for you.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” Katherine stuffed the paper into her pocket and scooped up all she could carry of the parcels. “You will never be sorry, I promise.”

She hurried outside to find George.