Chapter Forty-Two

Sam rushed from the saloon and heard the doors swing clamorously behind him. He stared up at the darkening sky, his face distorted with rage.

Joe had got away!

He put his hands to his head. How in tarnation could that have happened?

What could possibly have gone wrong?

How could the Marshal not have caught him? All he had to do was wait outside the tong till Joe and Charity came out, all glowing and happy, thinking they’d got the better of the law-abiding folk in Carter, and then arrest them. What could have been easier than that?

He spun round and headed for Second Street. He had to get home; he had to think. And he couldn’t think now, not with the anger that burned inside him. And the bitter, bitter disappointment.

He’d been fizzing with excitement all day at the thought of what he was going to hear when he stopped at the saloon on his way home that evening. With every shovel of coal he’d tossed into the cart, he’d tried to imagine what must be happening on top of the ground at that very moment.

In his head, he’d seen the surprise and horror on the faces of Joe and Charity as they’d emerged from the tong and found the Marshal waiting with his men, and he’d seen their expressions as they’d realised they’d be spending that night in jail, and all the rest of their nights. And that they might even finish up at the end of a hangman’s rope.

And that never again would they be together.

Apart from in court, they’d never see each other again. And he’d seen in their faces their anguish as that realisation had dawned on them, and he’d felt their grief.

And it had filled him with pleasure.

Working with ferocious speed, he’d filled cart after cart with pieces of coal, tagged each with his number and sent it on its way, his thoughts in the jail and on what Joe must be thinking as he sat in his cell, far from those green fields he’d always been on about, knowing what the guards might be doing with his woman and that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. And knowing he’d brought it all on himself, thinking he could set himself above the law.

He turned into Second Street, tears of helpless frustration blinding his eyes. What an end to a day that had begun with such hope.

The moment he’d gone into the saloon that evening, he’d realised that the day hadn’t gone as he’d planned. Instead of a crowded bar, filled with the raucous excitement of men celebrating an arrest that day, there’d been only one or two miners having a drink before heading home, and Marshal McGregor.

The Marshal had been sitting at a table facing the door, a drink in front of him. Sam could almost have sworn that he’d been waiting for him to arrive.

‘Evenin’, Sam,’ the bartender had called to him as he’d gone in.

His steps faltering, he’d taken off his miner’s hat and nodded vaguely in the bartender’s direction. A chill hand had tightened itself around his heart as he’d stared round the almost deserted bar.

He’d looked back at the Marshal.

‘It’s powerful quiet this evenin’,’ he said, hovering near the Marshal’s table.

‘It sure is,’ the Marshal agreed. ‘But it wasn’t at the end of the mornin’ when I stood the men to a drink after causin’ them to waste half the day. It was mighty noisy then.’

‘To waste half the day?’ Sam echoed questioningly.

‘That’s what I said.’ The Marshal stared up at him, his gaze steady. ‘I reckon you got things wrong, Sam. We waited outside the tong as the sun rose higher and higher. Sweatin’ like pigs we were, and not a thing to show for it. No one went in; no one came out. Nothin’ went on in that buildin’ that shouldn’t’ve done.’ He finished his drink and stood up. ‘At least, not today it didn’t,’ he added with a broad smile, and tipping the brim of his hat to Sam, he’d walked out.

So somehow Joe had got away, Sam raged as he came to the open ground leading to the miners’ houses. And with Charity, too. And they’d find the green fields and fresh air they wanted. And it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life, knowing Joe was free, and breeding with a woman who’d be spewing out half-yellow kids.

He reached the place where he’d learnt of Joe’s wedding plans, and slowed down, scowling at the spot where Chen Fai had stood. Trust that Celestial to have got the day wrong. There could be no other explanation for what had happened – or not happened.

No one could have warned Joe and Charity in advance because he and Chen Fai were the only two who knew. Su Lin knew, too, but she was a mouse and would never disobey her brother. And Phebe, of course, but he’d heard her say often enough that she couldn’t wait for Charity to be out of their lives, so she would’ve kept quiet.

No, that fool Chen Fai must have confused the day.

His boots pounding loudly on the hard ground, he speeded up his steps and was soon turning down the row of houses.

As he passed his folks’ house, he wondered whether to stop, whether in his state of fury he’d be able to control himself while listening to their grief, for they must surely know by now that Joe and Charity had gone, and that they’d never see them again. He shook his head – he knew he couldn’t. He’d wait until they’d talked themselves through it and seen it for the good thing it was.

But not as good as it would have been had Joe and the woman been thrown into jail, he thought bitterly. Anger shot through him with every step.

Reaching his house, he pushed the door open. Phebe was standing, one hand on the side of the table, the other in the pocket of her pinafore, staring towards the doorway. Behind her, he could see Thomas sitting up in his bed, his thumb in his mouth, staring towards them both.

‘I heard you comin’,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘Your meal’s ready.’ She turned to the range.

He stared at her back, frowning. ‘You haven’t asked me,’ he said sharply.

‘Asked you what?’ She turned slightly towards him, her eyes still on the stove.

‘About what happened at the tong today.’

She picked up a spoon. ‘What happened, then?’

He heard the tremor in her voice, and he felt suddenly cold.

‘It was you,’ he said slowly. ‘You warned Joe or someone.’ His voice rose, harsh, accusing. ‘Look at me!’ She turned slowly to face him. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’

‘You’re right, Sam,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘It was your folks I told. Also that you weren’t gonna tell the Marshal till Monday mornin’. You knew he liked Joe and Charity and thought the laws against the Chinee unfair, so he might’ve warned them if you’d told him sooner. By Monday morning, it’d be too late, and he’d have to get his men together and wait outside the tong. He’d have to do it – upholdin’ the law’s his job. That’s what I told your ma and pa.’

His hands clenched into fists. ‘My own wife went against me!’ His face thunderous, he took a step towards her.

‘Don’t you wanna know why I told them?’ she cried, edging back. ‘Aren’t you interested?’

He stopped where he was. ‘No, not one bit,’ he said, his eyes like splinters of ice.

‘I didn’t do it against you – I did it for you, Sam. I did it for you.’

‘Ha! And how d’you work that one out?’ he sneered, taking another step closer to her.

‘Because I know you. I know you’d never have been able to live with yourself if you’d been responsible for Joe bein’ arrested. I didn’t want that—I wanted the old Sam back and that wouldn’t have brought him back to me.’

‘You’ve got me all wrong, honey,’ he spat. ‘There’s nothin’ I woulda liked better than to see Joe arrested.’

‘No, I haven’t,’ she said, and she moved a shade closer to him. ‘It’s not ’cos of Joe you would have suffered inside, Sam; it’s ’cos of your folks. If Joe had been jailed ’cos of you, you’d have felt their pain every time you saw them. They’d never have gotten over it, and nor would you.’

‘You’re wrong about that. The whites would’ve bin speakin’ to them again, and they’d soon have felt real good.’

She held out her palms, indicating helplessness. ‘But that’ll happen anyway now that Joe and Charity have gone. The difference is, your folks will know they’re free, not in jail, and they’ll be happy for them. Bein’ gone ’cos you’re in jail or dead isn’t the same as bein’ gone ’cos you’re on a ranch somewhere.’

He scowled. ‘I know that.’

‘I know you, Sam. If you’d destroyed the lives of the people you love, it would have poisoned every single day of the rest of your life. I couldn’t let you do that to yourself.’

‘You’re talkin’ rot, woman!’ he exclaimed angrily.

‘I don’t think so. You’ve been jealous of Joe for so long, and hatin’ the Chinee ’cos of the mines, that you can’t see anythin’ else. When you’ve had time to think real hard about what it would have done to your folks, you’ll know what I say is true.’

‘Breakin’ the law’s wrong, but it’s not me that’s breakin’ the law; it’s Joe, and he should’ve been punished for it.’

‘Then maybe the law’s wrong. Is it so dreadful to have fallen in love with a woman he’s known all his life? It’s his misfortune that she’s Chinese. But does he really deserve to be arrested for that?’

‘I think he does,’ he said, glowering.

‘Then think about your pa,’ she said, despair in her voice. ‘He’s more than just your pa – you’re real buddies. He was your mine partner; you can’t get any closer than that. And look at you after his accident – you didn’t stop till you’d got him a job as a breaker. That’s ’cos you truly love him. D’you really wanna see him hurt again, and in a worse way? With you bein’ the one who caused it?’

Shrugging, he slightly turned away. ‘You’re makin’ more of it than it would’ve been.’

‘And what about your ma?’ Phebe went on. ‘She helps me with what I need; not ’cos she likes me – I don’t think she does – but so you’ll have the best home possible. That’s because she loves you. Would you really have wanted to destroy her happiness for ever?’

He glared at her. ‘I know you’re smarter than I am, Phebe, and better with words, but I know my folks. Sure they’d have been sad at first, but they’d have gotten over it. You’re my wife and you should’ve kept silent like you promised. You let me down and that shows what you think of me.’

She went up to him, and stared up into his face. ‘You say you think I’m smarter than you. Well, if you can’t see how much I love you, then maybe you’re right. It’s because I love you so much that I wanted to stop somethin’ from happenin’ that would have destroyed all our lives. And that means Thomas’s, too.’

He gave a slight start and looked down at her in surprise. Then a slow smile spread across his face. ‘Why, Phebe; you just said you loved me. I can’t remember when you last said that.’

‘And it’s not just me who loves you; so does Thomas. And your folks, and that’s why they’ll forgive you.’ She reached up and ran her fingers lightly down his cheek. ‘I’ll say it again – I love you, Sam, and I want everythin’ to be like it used to be when we were walkin’ out together; not like it’s become with all the talk of hate.’

‘You want it like the early days, do you?’ he said, his eyes gazing into hers. ‘I seem to recall we could never wait to find ourselves a patch of real soft ground to show how much we loved each other.’

Blushing, she laughed. ‘Well, aren’t we the lucky ones – we’ve got a bed now! And I reckon Thomas is about ready to go to sleep.’