More Than Gold

By Ron Harton

FROM THE AUTHOR OF FIGHTING BACK
A fast-paced, intelligent Western that captures the historical diversity and dynamics that made the American West such a crucible of dreams and heroes, MORE THAN GOLD tells the story of old Bodie, where people are driven by their passionsboth good and evilwilling to risk everything to gain their desires.



Goodbye God, Im Going to Bodie
Bodie had earned its reputation as the meanest, deadliest gold town in California, but that didnt stop people from flocking there with big dreams of wealth and freedom.

When Jacob Lawton sold his Kansas farm and followed his vision to Bodie, Rachel and her two children went with him, hitched to Jacobs ambitions. But Rachel had secret desires of her own. As their dreams descend into nightmare, Rachel and Jacob are drawn into Bodies dark world finding treachery and danger in the dreams of others.

Meanwhile, Bodie and its canyons hold many surprises . . . more than Rachel ever imagined . . . and she discovers there something far more valuable than gold.



Today Bodie is a ghost town preserved as a California State Park. In December of 1879, Bodie was booming and thousands of people with gold fever swept into the small mining town, some full of hopes and ambitions for more than gold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493175314

Book preview

1

Thursday, 4 December 1879

California—East of the Sierra Nevada

Rachel glanced back over her shoulder at the road. Empty. She could have sworn someone had come up behind them. She leaned out and took a longer look west. Maybe it was only the mountains of the Sierra Nevada towering over her. Snow-covered peaks stretched out in a long wall as far as she could see. At least she didn’t have to get over that range. She didn’t have much use for mountains; she was born to prairie. To the north, clouds rose high above the hills, dark as iron, rolling toward her, but she knew how to handle storms.

Are you worried, Ma? The front wheel of the wagon dropped into a rut on the rough road, and Anna swayed on the seat beside her mother, holding the rail with one hand and her bonnet with the other. You’ve been quiet ever since we left Bridgeport this morning. I thought you’d be happy since we’re almost to Bodie.

Rachel flicked the reins over the backs of the mules and smiled to reassure her daughter. I’m thinking. When we get to Bodie, we’ve got to put shoes on all those dreams and plans we have.

Anna laughed. Do dreams have feet?

Most certainly—our feet. If we don’t walk out our dreams they stay in bed, being nothing but dreams.

I guess that means you’re buying me new shoes in Bodie. Anna lifted her foot to show the worn leather of her old shoe.

Yes, I am, for you and me both. We need new shoes for our new dreams.

And new clothes too? Look. She put her finger through a tear in her skirt. The clothes I brought from Kansas are worn out.

Rachel scowled and pretended to scold. Anna Lawton, you mend that immediately! I will not have a daughter of mine walking around this empty desert with a hole in her dress.

Ma!

Especially not one so pretty all the young men are lined up to court her.

Anna put her hand to her forehead and scanned the sagebrush desert. Where are they, Ma? I don’t see them. She stood and pointed. Oh there they are—in Bodie. Must be hundreds of them.

Rachel laughed and pulled Anna back down on the seat. We’re both getting new shoes and new clothes for our new town. Your pa’s money ought to stretch that far.

Rachel slapped the reins harder, but she failed to inspire the big mules to increase their efforts. They were tired and so was she. It had been a long trip from Kansas. The wagon slowly creaked up a steep, rocky grade on the road that wound through the hills hiding Bodie and its gold mines from the rest of California.

From what Rachel had heard of the town, its streets might either be paved with gold or filled with men who had ridden straight out of hell, or both. Right now, she didn’t care. She just wanted to get there. She scanned up to where the road topped the hill, but there was no sign of Jacob. He and Micah had walked ahead and must have passed the crest to the other side.

She’d done right coming west with Jacob, Rachel told herself, probably for the hundredth time. Anna would have her sixteenth birthday soon—only a few months younger than Rachel was when Anna was born. Living in Bodie would give Anna so much more opportunity than Rachel ever had.

Rachel checked behind her again. The canvas tarp covering their old farm wagon was still tied tight. This morning, the rising sun had tinted red a sheet of fast-flying clouds, and something made her want to tell Jacob they should stay where they were and ride out the storm. She had kept her thoughts to herself, though, and a heaviness had settled on her heart and had been nagging her ever since. Now they were still miles from Bodie, and the day was almost over. They would have to move much faster to make the town before nightfall, ahead of the storm. In the west, the sun sank behind dark clouds and the light dimmed and blued. She called to the mules and slapped the reins across their backs.

A gust of wind whipped off the desert, slashing sand across the road. Rachel dropped the reins and turned away from it, shielding her face with her hands. The mules heaved sharply to one side, and the wagon lurched into a deep hole. It rocked forward and then sank back to a stop. The mules stood still, flipping their tails like they were at the barn waiting to be unharnessed.

Rachel grabbed the reins and leaned out to check the wheel. It was still in one piece, but the hole came up to the axle. She stood and yelled at the mules, shaking the reins. The wind switched around from the north, blowing icy cold, and the four mules all turned their heads south and stood still.

Rachel peered up the empty road to the top of the hill. Damn that man. I don’t know why I—

What did you say, Ma? The wind blew Anna’s bonnet back and loosened her hair, swirling it like golden threads around her face.

Jump down, Anna. Grab the harness. I’ll push the wheel and we’ll get going again. Don’t know what Pa and your brother are thinking, getting so far ahead.

Anna hopped from the wagon and turned back to her mother. They’re talking, Ma, like always. Caught up in all they’ll do in Bodie. Pa’s probably telling him again about the church he’ll build.

We got to get there first, Rachel shouted, her words whirled away by another sudden gust of wind. Here, Anna. She tossed the reins over the mules’ backs and climbed down from the seat. Stepping close to Anna, she put her arm around her shoulder and hugged her.

We can’t always count on the menfolk to get us out of trouble, can we? Anna smiled. We can do it ourselves, Ma.

Wait till I get behind the wheel, and you pull on those stubborn mules when I say. I’ll push.

The hole, large and deep, could have been easily avoided, and Rachel shook her head at her own foolishness—dropping the reins because of a little sand—why that was something a city girl would do, not a farmer’s wife. She knelt beside the stuck wheel and pulled loose rocks out of the hole. The wind whipped up the sand and blew it into her face again, but she kept working, and then sleet came in bursts like shotgun blasts, stinging her cheeks and eyes.

With her head down, she ran her hand up along the metal rim to the top of the wheel. She put her shoulder to a spoke, set her hands on the wheel, and yelled, All right, Anna, pull!

Rachel held her breath and pushed, squeezing her eyes tight. The undercarriage creaked, but for a moment the wheel didn’t budge; then it rocked forward. As it moved, Rachel’s foot slipped and she fell behind the wheel. The wheel stopped, not yet out of the hole, and Rachel sensed the weight of the wagon begin to slide back toward her.

Anna! Pull! Rachel shoved the spokes, but the wheel tipped back suddenly, catching her skirt and pinning her leg against the back of the hole. She twisted and turned to no avail. Realizing the wheel had trapped her, she slapped the rim twice with the palm of her hand. Anna, come help me!

Rachel heard horses ride up on the other side of the wagon and voices muffled by the wind. A man walked around the front of the mules, a revolver in his hand. He looked at her for a moment before he shoved the gun into his belt.

Looks like you need some help. He pushed his hat back, the tails of his duster flapping in the wind.

The gun startled Rachel, but figuring the man must also be a traveler on the toll road, she said calmly, I’m caught. She pushed on the wheel. I’m not hurt, but I can’t get out. Would you mind helping me?

The man bent over to look at her, his hands on his knees. You’re right, lady, you can’t get out of there.

If you could help my daughter move the mules forward, I can get free.

The stranger smiled at her but leaned on the wheel, pushing it tighter against her thigh. Rachel cried out in shock.

Lady, you can help me out right where you are, he said. We’re a might short on cash at the moment. Tell me where you stow your money. He leaned his weight on the wheel again.

A chill swept through Rachel as she realized his meaning, but she pretended to misunderstand him. Yes. My husband will pay you for your help.

Turning around in a circle, the man stretched out his arms, making a show of looking up the road and around the wagon. I don’t see no husband. You’ll have to pay us now.

Rachel nodded. I’ll get the money as soon as you help me out of here. The rain whipped harder against her and the wagon.

The man grabbed the collar of Rachel’s blouse, twisting it in his fist. Lady, you don’t get it. We’re in a hurry. He pulled her toward him. We want your cash box, your money bags, your gold dust, whatever you got. Now!

Another man came around the mules with his arms encircling Anna, pushing her out where Rachel could see her. Anna flailed with her fists and kicked, trying to squirm free. The man grinned like he was enjoying her efforts, and he pulled her tighter against his body.

God no! Anna! Rachel shouted. Let her go! She pushed her free foot against the spokes, trying to clear her leg, but the wheel kept her trapped.

Yanking Rachel’s blouse, the man slapped her with the back of his hand. He leaned in close to her and clasped her jaw, squeezing it. Tell us where the money is, lady! he shouted into her face.

Stunned by the blow, Rachel watched the other man nuzzle Anna’s neck. Anna kicked and tried to bite him, but he wrestled her back around to the other side of the wagon.

Ma! Help me! Anna yelled.

Rachel jerked her jaw free and yelled, Anna! The man slapped her again and blood ran from her nose and lip. She brushed at it, smearing it over her cheek. Let her go and I’ll tell you. You can have the money.

He straightened, wiped the rain from his face, and squinted up the road. He turned quickly back to Rachel. First, the money.

Rachel, too, looked up the road, but the mix of blowing rain and sand cut off the view. She heard Anna scream from the other side of the wagon.

It’s at the bottom, under a sack of potatoes, in the back, Rachel said, her voice hard and cold. Now let her go!

The man ran to the back of the wagon, opened the tailgate, and threw out blankets, cook pots, and clothes. The wind took the clothes and blankets, scattering them across the desert to catch on sagebrush and scrub. He slid a sack of potatoes onto the ground, pulled out a black wooden box, and shook it. Setting it on the ground, he pried it open and smiled. I got it! he yelled.

Now let her go! Rachel screamed.

The man ignored her. Dumping the potatoes out of the bag, he shoved the box in it, and ran to the other side of the wagon.

Give me my daughter! Rachel screamed. Anna!

Rachel leaned back, stretching to peer under the wagon, and glimpsed a horse galloping away. She raked her eyes back and forth seeking Anna, calling for her. Water ran down the hill and began collecting in the hole, soaking her clothes. Rachel tried to wiggle out of her skirt, but with each effort the wheel sank deeper, embedding her skirt in the mud and rocks.

Exhausted, she lay back on the road. The rain pelted her face and drummed on the canvas wagon cover and the wind whirred through the sagebrush.

The sight of Anna in the arms of that man burned in Rachel’s mind. But the bandits had the money, so they didn’t need Anna any longer. The outlaw could have shoved Anna down the hill before he too mounted his horse and rode away, so Anna should come climbing out from the brush at the side of the road.

Suddenly, she heard someone running. Anna?

Ma! Micah yelled. Are you hurt?

Micah, go around to the other side of the wagon and get Anna.

Her son ran immediately, and was gone for a moment that seemed to last forever. Rachel held her breath and then yelled, Micah!

He came around the front of the wagon. I can’t find her, Ma. Where’d she go?

Where’s your pa?

Other side of the hill. He sent me to see what was keeping you. He’s waiting for me to tell him.

God! Jacob! Rachel shouted. Micah, see if you can lead the mules and pull the wagon off me.

Micah stood up straight, but froze, looking back down the road. Rachel twisted sideways and saw a rider and a string of horses approaching through the rain.

Micah, she said, keeping her eyes on the rider, run up the road and get your father. Tell him to come quick. Micah stared at the rider. Now, Micah! And he ran.

The rider stopped some yards from the wagon and pulled a gun from his holster. Flecks of snow mixed with the rain and fell white through the steel sky.

The rider called out, You need some help?

Rachel stared at him, her body shaking.

Ma’am, are you hurt? You need help? He sat up in the saddle and checked around. He holstered his gun, dismounted, and walked his horse up to the back of the wagon, tying it and his string of horses to it. When he squatted down beside Rachel, she wiped the blood on her face with her muddy hand.

Ma’am, I’m going to get you out of this hole.

He untied his horse and led it to the head of the mules. Looping a rope over the horn, he tied it to the harness and spoke gently to the horse and mules, brushing them with his hand.

He squatted down beside her again. When I push on the wheel, as soon as you feel you’re clear, you climb up out of that hole. The man put his shoulder to the wheel. Hiya, Red! Pull! he yelled.

The big chestnut stepped forward. The rope cinched tight and the mules responded, straining. The wagon began to inch forward. The wheel lifted off Rachel’s leg and she squirmed free, scrambling to her feet, stumbling to the other side of the wagon. Anna wasn’t there.

Anna! Rachel ran up the road a ways and called again. Nothing. Then she ran down the edge of the road, bending over, searching low under the sagebrush. She stood on her toes, and looked out over the desert to where the land and sky blended into one, the snow now falling thick and fast. Cupping her hands to her mouth, she called Anna’s name.

She heard the man speaking to her, saying something like he was trying to calm a horse, but she couldn’t understand him.

Where is Anna? she asked him.

The man looked at her quizzically. Who?

Rachel turned back to the desert and scanned across it for some sign of Anna, of the outlaws, of any living thing, but the empty land sloped down from the road, a labyrinth of low hills, ridges, and canyons. The wind switched and hurled snow sideways, lashing it across the land. Anna is out there, she thought, and ran into the desert.

2

Rachel turned in a circle, straining to see some sign of her daughter, of anything. The hills looked all the same, rounded mounds of white covered with small white lumps of sagebrush. She was somewhere far below the road. Only the wash at the bottom of the canyon looked any different with its scrubby trees and winding, flat bottom, so she worked down to it, climbing over rocks and tangles of snow-covered branches. She hoped to find tracks of the two outlaws, but snow had buried all sign of them. Now a silent blue dusk closed in, seeming to rise up from the bottom of the canyon, and she had no idea where to go. She hugged herself to block the cold.

Rocks slid and clinked on the ridge above her, and Rachel turned quickly, hoping to see the outlaws coming down the slope. A rider loomed out of the twilight, leaning back in the saddle, shifting his weight over the horse’s hips, watching the ground.

She scrambled up at him. Where’s Anna? What’d you do with her? She groped under the snow for a rock and threw it at him.

The man held up his arm, and the rock glanced off his shoulder. He rode on toward her.

Rachel lunged at the rider, hitting his leg and yanking his boot, trying to pull him off his horse. He reached down a gloved hand to block her, so she grabbed his arm, tipping him off balance. When he threw his leg over to dismount, the horse shied away. Rachel pulled harder and the man fell against her. Rachel punched his ribs, but he grabbed her arms and she could smell his wet wool shirt and the stink of his sweat. Yanking her arms free, she backed away, putting up her fists, ready to strike.

Give me Anna. Where is she?

The man held hands open in front of him. Ma’am, I don’t have Anna. I’m the one who helped you on the road. My name’s Gabe. I’m a wrangler, working for Stark Rollins, taking him a string of horses he bought.

Rachel glared at the man. He did look like the cowboy that had helped her. He wasn’t young like the bandit that took Anna. He picked up his hat, slapped it against his leg, and set it firmly on his head. He checked his horse, patting its neck and speaking to it gently. Snow fell faster now—thick, wet flakes settling on their heads and shoulders. Gabe’s horse flicked its ears and bent its head to graze. She lowered her fists.

Where’s Micah? Where’s Jacob?

Your son and husband are at your wagon, trying to get a fire started.

Rachel glanced up the slope behind Gabe, but now she couldn’t see farther than a few yards.

Why don’t you tell me what happened, ma’am?

Two men robbed us. When you rode up, I thought you were them coming back. One of them had Anna, my daughter. I don’t know what he did with her. I can’t find her. He might have taken her, but he could have let her go out here somewhere. She swept her arm out, pointing down the canyon. Last I saw, he had grabbed her and she was calling for me to help her.

Rachel stopped. She couldn’t remember any more to tell. Her mind seemed frozen, stuck on the sight of the outlaw holding Anna and her plea for help. Rachel opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her knees buckled under her and she sank into the snow. She wanted to stand up out of the cold, wet snow, but she couldn’t move. Gabe appeared far away, like he was looking down at her as she fell into a deep well. Then she began shaking hard.

Gabe knelt beside her. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close to him. Her mind resisted. He shouldn’t be holding her—she should be holding Anna. Rachel shook uncontrollably, her shoulders knocking against his chest, and he held her tighter, rocking her back and forth, like a child. Slowly her muscles relaxed. She closed her eyes and cried.

When Rachel opened her eyes and lifted her head, darkness encompassed them. Gabe still held her, so she pushed him away and stood up quickly, clumps of snow falling off her arms and shoulders.

Are you all right, ma’am?

Not till I find my daughter.

Gabe stood up too and brushed off his clothes. Did you see tracks?

No. But I think the outlaws went this way. She pointed out into the desert.

Gabe brushed the snow off her back. That’s a big stretch of desert and it’s mighty dark, ma’am.

Rachel knew he meant it was too dark to search, but she had to keep looking, so she started to walk down the canyon.

Behind her, Gabe said, Let’s check it out.

In the dark, she was unable to see enough to pick her own way, much less find any tracks. She stumbled against a boulder and fell into the sagebrush. Gabe’s hand gripped her arm firmly and pulled her up. His other arm went around her waist, supporting her as she found her footing.

Ma’am, I think we should head back to the road, he said.

Rachel turned away. We can’t go back without Anna.

But we can’t find any sign of her in the dark, with this snow.

She’s out here somewhere.

But this here is a mighty big place. They could have started this way and then circled back and gone up another canyon.

Rachel didn’t respond.

Or they could have ridden over one of these hills and gone down another canyon. Or back up a canyon two ridges over and be plumb on the other side of the road.

Rachel crossed her arms and faced him. Then we’ll search those canyons too and every canyon until we find her!

Gabe pushed back his hat and scratched his head. I hear what you’re saying, ma’am. If I had a daughter, I’d feel the same way, but they could be anywhere. He gestured with his arm, sweeping it around him. The snow’s covering everything and it’s getting deeper, colder too, and morning’s a long way off. We ought to head back.

You go back. Get warm. I’m going to look for Anna.

She hadn’t gone five paces before Gabe hauled her backward. She fought him, kicking his shin, but he put his arm under her and picked her up. She hit at him, flailing her arms, but he held her tighter, and she felt his warm breath against her ear.

I can’t let you do that, for your own good. Your best chance to find Anna is to go back to the wagon and try again when it’s light. Nobody could find her tonight, not you, not me, not even an Indian.

Rachel looked out into the darkness. The wind had risen again, driving the snow sideways. Nearby, the pinyon pines bucked and tossed. Gabe was probably right. Her face and feet were so numb, they didn’t feel cold anymore, so she didn’t resist when he set her down or put her foot into the stirrup. She lifted her other leg and swung it over the horse to ride straddle, not caring what the cowboy might think of her. She slid her foot into the right stirrup and gripped the saddle horn.

Here, Gabe said, and tossed her his coat. Put this around you.

As he led her on his horse up toward the road, she turned in the saddle and looked back at the canyon. I’m coming back, Anna, she whispered.

When she saw Micah and Jacob standing by the fire, Rachel slipped her leg over the saddle horn and slid to the ground. Micah ran to her and she enfolded him in her arms, his small hands clutching at her. Jacob threw a blanket over her and Micah while she clung to him, her teeth chattering.

Is there no sign of Anna? Jacob asked.

Rachel shook her head.

Micah squirmed out from under the blanket, suddenly excited. Pa and I made some soup, Ma. He brought her a cup of lukewarm potato soup. Pa and I made it, he said proudly.

Jacob stood before her, tall and featureless, silhouetted by the fire. What happened, Rachel?

Rachel turned her back on Jacob. Gabe walk toward them from the wagon where he had tied his horses, his rugged face lit by the fire. A scar ran across his cheek from his ear to his mustache.

I am grateful to you, sir, for going after my wife, Jacob said to him.

Gabe nodded. I sure wish we could’ve found the tracks of the men who took Anna.

What? Jacob grabbed Rachel’s arm.

She wrenched away, spilling her soup. Yes! That’s what happened, Jacob! While you were ahead of us on the other side of the hill, the wagon stuck in a hole and two men robbed us and kidnapped Anna. If you had been with us, like you should’ve been, it wouldn’t have happened. But you were out there lost in your own world.

She glared at Jacob, daring him to defend himself, but he turned back to Gabe. And is there no way to track the men?

Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe. If the snow stops and what’s on the ground melts, we can try.

Rachel stood and tugged the blanket around her. Tomorrow morning. We’ll camp here tonight, and tomorrow morning, first light, we’ll go find Anna.

Ma’am, Gabe said, storms here can be fierce. It may snow all night and get so deep there’d be no way those mules could pull the wagon up these hills. We should get on into town tonight. We’ll start looking as soon as the weather clears.

I’m not leaving my daughter alone out in the desert. She turned away from both the men and set her eyes on the darkness beyond the fire.

Gabe put his hand on Micah’s shoulder. Let’s go see about the horses while your ma and pa talk.

Rachel. Jacob’s voice was firm.

I’m not leaving.

Rachel, you heard the man. He knows the weather and the land in these parts. We do not. It is best that we trust his advice. We will go to Bodie tonight and pray that God gives us a clear day tomorrow.

Rachel scoffed. You can pray all you want to, I’m going to stay here and find Anna. She’s my daughter. She looked hard at Jacob, wondering what he would say to that.

He looked away from her and