Chapter Sixteen

 

Juliet and Carl fell into a comfortable routine over the next few weeks. After breakfast, Carl would go to the stream and bring the pay dirt to the barn where they would pan for gold by the fire burning in the barrel. The fire helped to take the edge off the chill, but the pay dirt was so hard they had to warm it up before it was loose enough to separate out the flakes of gold from the dirt.

By the middle of December, the temperatures had significantly dropped to the point where Juliet didn’t see the point in panning for any more gold until spring.

“I think we’ve gotten all the gold we’re going to get for the rest of the season,” she told Carl one morning during breakfast.

“We’re getting more gold in the section of the stream I’ve been digging in,” Carl replied after he swallowed his forkful of pancakes. “I’ve never gotten as much gold in one pan the entire time I’ve been doing this. I think we have a really good chance of striking it rich.”

“The gold will still be there in the spring. We can get to it then.”

“I can’t stop now. Not when I’m so close.”

“Carl, it’s been taking you twice as long to get a bucket load of pay dirt, and yesterday, you didn’t even come back until noon. The ground is just too hard, and I’m worried you’re doing too much.”

“All the work will be worth it when we can get out of here. Once we’re in Canada, I won’t have to do too much anymore.”

“I know, but what if you get hurt? The ground is slippery. I almost fell on the way to the barn yesterday, and the ground is pretty level from this cabin to there. The path you use to go to the stream is steep.”

“I have a good pair of boots.”

She twirled the fork in her hand as she thought over what she might say to convince him to take the rest of the winter off. Early on in their marriage, he had told her that once it snowed, he didn’t bother panning for gold. So why was he doing it now? Sure, the trees caught the bulk of the snow so it didn’t all fall to the ground, but the snow that made it through the branches did make walking without slipping difficult.

“Why are you in such a hurry to get to the gold?” she finally asked. “If you’re close to getting rich, then certainly you’ll get it this spring. Besides, it’s not like we’ll be able to leave for Canada until the weather’s warmer.”

He paused then reached across the table to hold her hand. “I know we won’t leave this winter. It’s difficult to travel this time of year. It’s just that the sooner I can secure the gold we need to leave this place, the better I’ll feel.”

The rest of her argument left her. If it was this important he keep panning for gold, then she would do whatever she could to help him. “Alright,” she whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll stop trying to talk you out of it.”

He smiled. “It’s a small sacrifice to pay for our future.”

From there, he finished his breakfast and headed out to the stream. She, in turn, washed the dishes and mended one of his shirts.

At noon, she put on her hat, gloves, and coat and went out to the barn to see if he was ready to pan for gold. But the moment she entered the cold building, she knew he hadn’t returned yet. The horses, however, had been fed, and the wheelbarrow and supplies he took to the stream weren’t there.

Pulling the collar of the coat up around her neck, she left the barn and walked down the path to the stream. The trek was just as slippery as she feared, but traces of fresh boot tracks in the scattered patches of snow told her he’d gone this way. So she continued on down the path until the stream came in sight.

She searched the area until she saw the familiar color of the wheelbarrow. It had fallen over and was settled right on top of Carl’s legs. The bucket of pay dirt had toppled out of the bucket and covered the ground next to him.

“Carl!”

Without thinking, she hurried down the path, only slowing down when she slipped and almost fell. From there, she grabbed onto the trees to help support her as she made her way down the rest of the path. It slowed her progress, but she knew it was better to get there safe than to rush to him.

Finally, when she reached him, she shoved the wheelbarrow off of him. “Carl, are you alright?”

The question was absurd, of course. It was evident he wasn’t fine. If he was, he would have gotten up by now.

“My leg hurts,” he told her. “I think I broke it.”

She examined both legs, but they looked fine to her. “Which one is it?”

He pointed to the right one.

She put his right arm around her shoulders and tried to help him up. Using his good leg, he managed to get up. But as soon as they tried to walk up the path, he slipped and the weight of his body pulled her down with him, so they both ended up falling to the ground.

She made another attempt to help him stand up, but he stopped her. “It’s no use. I’m too heavy. You’ll need to go to town and have Eric get me. Then he can take me to the doctor.”

“Eric’s a long way from here, and it’s too cold to be out here that long. I’ll get a horse and put you on it. Then we’ll get you to the doctor.”

He shook his head. “The horse won’t make it down this path. Not this time of year. You’ll just have to get Eric.”

“It’s colder than it’s been up to now. You could freeze to death if I leave you out here that long.”

“I’m not going to freeze to death. The worst that could happen is that I get frostbite.”

She wasn’t sure what frostbite was, but it sounded just as bad as freezing to death. She had to do something. Maybe she could start a fire for him to keep him warm until she returned. Or maybe she could return with some blankets and a hot water bottle while she went to town.

She heard a horse neighing on top of the hill and saw the top of a cabin tucked away in the trees. Not too far was a barn. “I can go there,” she told Carl, pointing to the cabin. “Maybe someone can carry you to our wagon.”

“No. You can’t ask them.”

“Why not? They’re closer to us right now than our cabin is.”

“Because Abe lives there, and he hates me. He’ll never help us.”

“We don’t know that until I ask.”

Then, without waiting for him to argue, she hurried to the side of the hill. He called out after her, but she ignored him. Under ordinary circumstances, she would listen to him, but she couldn’t put him at further risk by letting him stay out in the cold much longer.

She made her way up the hill, careful to grab trees to keep her balance. She almost lost her footing once, but she managed up the slope without too much trouble.

Once she reached the top, she saw that no one was outside, so she hurried to the cabin. As she passed one of the windows, she caught sight of her reflection and noticed the dark braids that were hanging down her back. She stopped and quickly tucked them under her hat. Once they were secure, she continued on to the front door.

Her hurried trek up the hill left her out of breath, so she had to take a moment to regain her composure before she knocked on it. Surely, Abe would be willing to help her. Even if he and Carl didn’t get along, he wouldn’t want to see any harm come to her husband. At least, she hoped not. There were men who didn’t care if other people, especially those they didn’t like, suffered. But Caroline and Allie both thought Abe was a nice man, and that being the case, she had a good reason to believe he’d help her.

The door opened, and an old woman smiled at her. “May I help you?”

Juliet returned her smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Juliet Richie. My husband fell and hurt his leg. He’s down that hill.” She gestured to the direction she’d come from. “He can’t walk back home, and I can’t lift him. I was wondering if Abe would be willing to help me?”

Juliet stopped talking when she heard a chair scooting back across the floor. She glanced over the woman’s shoulders and saw that Abe was rising to his feet from the kitchen table. Phoebe also stood up, and this time Juliet could tell she was with child.

“What’s this about Carl?” Abe asked as he headed over to her.

“He was pushing the wheelbarrow up the path to our home when he slipped and fell. He’s lying by the stream with an injured leg, and I have no way to get him to the doctor. I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me get him to the wagon?”

Abe hesitated, and Phoebe approached him. “You have to help her,” Phoebe said. Abe gave a slight wince, so she added, “If it was you who was hurt and I asked Carl for help, wouldn’t you want him to do it?”

“She’s right,” the old woman said. “It’s cold outside, and the longer he’s by the stream, the worse he might get.”

Abe shifted from one foot to the other then looked back at Juliet. “What’s he doing by the stream when it’s cold out?”

“He was getting some pay dirt for gold panning,” Juliet replied.

Abe shook his head and muttered something under his breath about how greedy Carl was, but Phoebe interrupted him. “It doesn’t matter why he was down there. What matters is that we do the right thing and help him.”

Abe glanced from Phoebe to the old woman, who nodded that she agreed with Phoebe. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his boots. “Alright, I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Juliet said, offering them all a smile.

Juliet decided not to add that she understood why it was difficult for them to help Carl, that she knew there were hard feelings between them because of Carl’s and Abe’s father. But bringing it up would probably only make the situation worse.

“You should bring Carl in here,” Phoebe told Abe.

Abe glanced at her as he slipped his boots on. “You want me to bring him here? To our home?”

“If he’s injured, you can take care of him just as well as the doctor can,” the woman replied. “You did wonders with the horse last month when it got hurt.”

“Ma’s right,” Phoebe agreed. “Besides, the ride to town won’t be an easy one this time of year. Not with snow on the ground. The longer Carl goes untended to, the worse things might get.”

Abe grumbled under his breath but grabbed his coat and headed out the doorway and down the porch.

“I appreciate you doing this,” Juliet called out as she followed him.

“I’m only doing this because of you,” he replied, not bothering to look back at her as he stomped down the path that would take him to the stream. “You have nothing to do with the past, and I’m not about to punish you for it.”

Well, if that was the case, then she would accept it. Just as long as Carl was going to be fine, that was all that mattered to her.

Abe was much better at walking down the slippery hill than she was. She still had to hold onto trees as she made her way down it, and she was only halfway to the steam by the time he reached Carl.

She stopped. It was pointless to go all the way down there. Abe would be halfway back up by the time she made it. She leaned against one of the trees and watched as Abe and Carl talked. Neither one seemed especially happy about the situation, but to Abe’s credit, he picked Carl up and set him over his shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.

Juliet took that as her cue to head back up the hill, but Abe still passed her before she even reached the top. By the time she reached the cabin, Carl was already on the couch where Phoebe and her mother were huddled around him as Abe cut into Carl’s pants.

“Take it easy,” Carl snapped as the knife cut through the fabric.

“I didn’t take you for a weakling,” Abe said, sounding slightly amused.

“I’m not a weakling,” Carl replied. “I just don’t want you to cut off my leg.”

“Don’t be silly,” Phoebe told Carl. “Abe wouldn’t cut your leg.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Carl replied as the blade got close to the skin.

“As long as you don’t make any sudden moves, you’ll be fine,” Abe said.

Juliet approached the couch, careful to let the others have enough room to move around if they needed to. Her gaze met Carl’s, and she had to resist the urge to hold him. It couldn’t be easy for him to be surrounded by people who didn’t care much for him, especially when he needed their help.

For a moment, she wished she had done what he wanted and gone to town to get Eric. But what good would that have done? Carl was already shivering from being cold. She hadn’t had a choice. If she didn’t get Abe, Carl really might have gotten that frostbite he mentioned.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Juliet asked, hoping that by making the offer they would be nicer to Carl.

“Maybe we should make a fresh pot of coffee,” Phoebe said, turning to her.

“Some hot soup might be a good idea, too,” her mother added.

Juliet’s stomach tightened at the thought of leaving Carl alone with Abe, but she might have unexpected allies with the women. They had, after all, gotten Abe to help her. Maybe if she could talk to them, things could get better. With a nod, Juliet joined them and went to the kitchen, only glancing back once at Carl to give him a reassuring smile that soon enough, they would be back home.