Summer Smoke: Gold Camp Dreams

By Vella Munn

There's no escaping their pasts.

 

Her determination to raise her two precious girls far from her shameful past brought Katharine Beechman to small, isolated Eagle Canyon where rugged men fight to wrestle gold from the earth. She wants nothing to do with mine manager Daniel Harman, but Daniel's ingrained sense of responsibility extends to her daughters. He is convinced independent Katharine needs protecting, a role he vows to assume without involving his heart.

 

Despite her determination to keep Daniel at arms' length, Katharine can't help but sense his loneliness. If she isn't careful, he might realize what they have in common.

 

Protecting her heart finally forces Katharine to acknowledge she can't escape her history after all. She'll face those who know so much. What she has no defense against is her terror on the horrific day when she can't find her daughters. Desperate, she begs Daniel for help.   

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vella Munn
• Release date: Dec 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215528105

Vella Munn

I'm married, the mother of two sons, grandmother to four, and happily owned by two rescue dogs. My hobby, for lack of a different word, is digging in the dirt. I love going for walks and hate shopping. Also writes as Dawn Flindt and Heather Williams.

Book preview

Welcome to the untethered world of my imagination. Fair warning—it goes where it demands to go. I’m only here to record what I’m told to. Needless to say, everything I write is fiction, hopefully peopled with characters readers can relate to.....Vella Munn.

Chapter One

Achill slithered over Katherine Beechman’s spine at the sight of the clouds blowing up over the wilderness surrounding Eagle Canyon. The only way out of the remote mining camp was via a winding dirt road that climbed up and through the mountains. Winter snow sometimes trapped residents like it had last year. At least it was summer; dry, hot summer. She could and would block out certain memories. Live in the present with the two most important people in her world.

Thankfully, her precious daughters were focused on something on the rutted street that bisected the town’s main buildings. At times it felt like she, five-year-old Mary, and three- year-old Sally shared a single emotion, but the girls were far enough ahead that hopefully they couldn’t pick up on her unease.

It was Homer’s fault. Between wheezing breaths, the aging prospector had explained why thunderstorm clouds alarmed him. Given his poor health she’d been surprised he’d noticed the rapidly expanding blue-gray forms. Then he’d told her what was responsible for the thick, ever-moving towers. Creatures of summer, these clouds meant heat and moisture was being pulled into the atmosphere leaving the air dry and sometimes giving rise to spectacular lightning shows.

She wasn’t afraid of lightning or the accompanying thunder. Neither were her daughters. But what she hadn’t spelled out to them were the consequences if a lightning shaft struck a tree.

Wishing she could put her mind to something else, she turned her face into the wind. It was late August. The cabin where she supported her daughters and herself caring for Eagle Canyon’s residents’ clothing was so stuffy she’d abandoned it, thinking to return around dusk. Her intention had been to deliver several repaired garments to the owners instead of waiting for the miners to come to her. They might be working their claims but they could be in the Nugget Saloon.

The girls had been delighted at the opportunity to go to Eagle Canyon’s only tavern. As many times as they’d been in there the novelty should have worn off, but they fed on the attention that came their way whenever they stepped through the door.

A smile overrode her frown. Then she made the mistake of looking at the horizon again. Nightfall wouldn’t come for hours, but the darkening, growing clouds gave off an illusion of night. More upsetting, she felt the energy that accompanied a change in the weather. She felt alive all right, a sensation she loved to wrap around herself. Or rather she would if she wasn’t aware of how dry the air was. She’d asked Homer what caused lightning but he hadn’t had an answer. Knowing a light show could spell the end to the camp, they’d reassured each other that the chance for such a disaster was slim but she’d sensed Homer hadn’t been any more convinced of their safety than she had. 

You don’t like them either, do you? she heard a man at the left side of the so-called street ask. Thanks to a buckboard with a pair of dozing horses hitched to it and a wagon missing its rear wheels, no wonder she hadn’t noticed him before. It’s been like this every evening for the better part of a week, he said.

She acknowledged Daniel Harman, manager of the Yuba Mine. As many times as it had happened, she shouldn’t react to being near him, but there was something unfathomable about him. Something that reminded her she was a woman. Maybe, she’d told herself more than once, it was because he usually smelled clean. Unlike a majority of the town’s male residents, Daniel was clean shaven, and he kept his thick nearly-black hair reasonably short. She figured him to be in his mid-thirties, which meant he was a few years older than her. He was educated, his way of expressing himself easy to understand—if he wanted to be. Their relationship was—complicated.

From what she could tell, Daniel had just left the doctor’s office. The two knew each other, of course. Everyone knew who Daniel was and what he represented. He was one of, if not the town’s most prominent resident. More so than the lone doctor or the sheriff, even Nevada and his Negro partner Nate.

At first, she’d thought Daniel owned Yuba Mine. Now she understood it was owned by several men, his father and uncle among them. If Daniel had been injured or was sickly, the news probably would have reached her. Although the girls were putting more distance between themselves and her, she waited for the tall, strongly built man to join her in the middle of the otherwise vacant street. If he questioned her parenting today as he’d done during that awful time, she’d again make it clear she didn’t appreciate or want his opinion. Otherwise, given everything that had transpired between them last winter, she could be cordial.

Treat him like she would any ordinary man.

Thunderclouds fascinate me, she said when he joined her. Life had taught her who was held in high esteem and who wasn’t. Despite his youth, Daniel was a leading force, while she—it didn’t matter. They’re beautiful. But I’m uncomfortable with what they represent.

A storm, you mean?

One with wind and lightning.

I hope there’s decent rain.

So do I.

He didn’t respond. In truth, he didn’t seem to be particularly interested in her. Maybe he regretted saying anything. If so, he should have thought of that before speaking.

When she started after the girls, he matched her pace. He was nearly a head taller and much stronger if the width of his shoulders and muscular arms was any indication. Given his size, she imagined he had a hard time fitting inside the rapidly-expanding mine. Did he fear getting trapped in it? If so, he was in the wrong profession.

That happened to a lot of people, her included.

He indicated her armload. You’re making deliveries? Shouldn’t your customers be coming to you?

You’ve seen my place. Believe me, spending an entire day in those cramped quarters with two restless girls has me more than eager to get outside. Try dealing with all that energy. You’ll understand what I’m talking about.

I do.

Confused, she glanced in his direction. No one had said anything about him having children. Word was, he’d never been married. Oh?

I’m the oldest of four children.

Oh, she repeated followed by shaking her head. Boys or girls?

They’d barely spoken to each other since last winter when she’d briefly thought she’d lost her reason for being alive. Thankfully, the girls had been found safe, not lost deep in the mine as Daniel had thrown at her might have happened. Hopefully, he didn’t realize how profoundly his words had terrified her.

She’d been comfortable keeping him at arms’ length, but he’d just told her something personal. It might behoove her to get to know more about him. To make him more human and less all-powerful in her eyes.

Two girls and a boy. Andrew’s the youngest, still a teenager.

And you miss them. I had a sister, but she died in infancy.

Younger than you?

By four years. I remember her. At least, I believe I do.

When he didn’t immediately respond, she chided herself for opening even that small window to her past. The girls stopped at the stairs leading into the tavern and turned toward her. Judging by their frowns, they recognized Daniel. Sally drew close to her older sister.

If Daniel was aware of the girls’ reaction to his presence, he gave no indication. You’re taking them in there with you? he asked.

It will hardly be the first time. I rather expect to find my customers in there.

You’re comfortable letting the girls—

Mr. Harman, I appreciate your interest in my children and I’m well-aware of the debt we owe you, but how I raise them isn’t your concern.

Despite the distraction of the still-growing clouds, she studied his expression—or rather, lack of one. Whatever he thought of her, he was determined to keep his opinion to himself. She felt the same way. I’ll attempt to respect your boundaries, he said.

I’d appreciate that.

Before she could think what else she might say, thunder snapped. Sally squealed and clapped her hands.

Daniel gave the girl an incredulous look. You like thunder?

Not really loud and not when it makes the house shake, but when it goes on and on from far away. That’s funny.      

Funny? What about lightning?

That’s pretty.

The last time there was a storm, you said it scared you, Mary cut in.

Well, I wasn’t.

Then why did you cover your head with my blanket?

"I did not. Besides, you had my blanket."

Groaning, Katharine placed her hands on her daughters’ shoulders and pushed them toward the tavern. Three-year-old Sally’s round face was still part baby. She loved to cuddle against her mother, to be sung to. In contrast, every time Katharine studied Mary, she saw glimpses of the woman the not yet six-year-old was going to be. As proud as she was of Mary’s independence, she missed the infant. She’d lost out on so much of that precious and fleeting time.

Please tell me you heard the same from your siblings when you were all growing up. I don’t imagine you miss the arguing, she said as memories threatened.

Sometimes. He gave a dismissive shrug.

Maybe, being the oldest, you considered yourself above squabbling. Besides, most likely, your mother was the one to put an end to nonsense such as what you just witnessed.

When he didn’t respond, she told herself it was because his mother’s parenting style didn’t overly concern him. Still, she thought she’d seen something in his eyes, a drawing back or closing of a door. Every family had things they kept to themselves, secrets. Some more than others.

All right, she said, when Mary sighed and pointed at the tavern door. I’m coming. Excuse me, Mr. Harman, but my charges are impatient.

I’m going in myself.

Because you don’t trust me to protect my children? Holding onto her temper, she pulled back on the door and let the girls enter ahead of her. Cigarette and cigar smoke to say nothing of the stench of unwashed bodies clogged her sinuses and make her lungs burn. Every time she came into the Nugget, her past swirled around her. Before long, the girls would start coughing, which meant she needed to quickly determine whether the owners of the clothes she carried were here.

Sally stayed at her side and Mary remained within reach. When they were within their own walls, they clearly and often loudly announced they weren’t the least bit afraid to venture in here. Reality was another matter. Ever since that winter horrific day, all three had been more cautious. Bringing them into the Nugget was something she did to rebuild their confidence.

Look around, she said. Can you see Belle Cora? I wouldn’t be surprised if she has some candy set aside for you.

Belle Cora owned the Nugget. She was in her fifties, handsome, childless, and never married. People didn’t cross Belle, not even the sheriff, but beneath that proud, hard exterior lay a woman with heart. Mary and Sally had her wrapped around their little fingers.

You have business in here? she asked Daniel.

Why do you ask?

Your reputation is that of a man who never turns his back on his responsibilities. If anyone deserves to relax with a whiskey, it’s you.

I wish I could.

There it was again, a hint of emotion beneath the self-assured surface. Life was decidedly easier when she didn’t concern herself with other people’s lives. Needing distraction from the question of why she cared about Daniel Harman, she looked around for her customers. She spotted them at a small, tall table with two other miners who also made use of her services. As a child, she’d never imagined she’d make her living with needle and thread, but the work was far better than the other way she’d supported herself.

She started toward her customers, surprised because Daniel was heading in the same direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Belle Cora hugging Sally. As long as the older woman was around her girls, her customers, even the drunken ones, would temper their language. Mary and Sally had heard more cursing than most children, but they didn’t need to be surrounded by foul outbursts even if they came from men who loved them.   

Your wife told me she was certain I’d find you here, Daniel said to whoever was at the table next to Katharine’s customers.

Is that all she said? Nothing about my shirking my medical duties?

Daniel was talking to Dr. Piper who sat across from Mr. Wocks, owner of the town’s mercantile. Both men were in their late fifties or early sixties with store bought shirts that set them apart from many of the miners. They spent considerable time in each other’s company discussing worldly matters that didn’t concern those who couldn’t read.

She might have mentioned you left your office in need of a straightening up, Daniel said.

The town’s physician laughed. Nettie’s notion of orderly and mine aren’t the same. What can I do for you?

Daniel glanced at her, the look lasting just long enough for her to surmise he didn’t want to answer in her presence. She grabbed an unoccupied chair and scooted it next to the table where her customers were. When she’d first offered her services as a clothes washer and seamstress, the miners hadn’t known how to react. They’d assumed she was a hooker. Some had known her from before.

Their attitudes had changed once she made it clear she offered only one service. She’d only had to plant one knee between a single miner’s legs. Several men who’d witnessed the lesson had taken it upon themselves to spread the news. Despite her curves, Katharine Beechman was no longer selling them.

Fortunately, the two men she’d been looking for treated her with respect. She spent a few minutes explaining what she’d done to try to get more wear out of their clothes. As she did, she kept an eye on her daughters who were now perched on the bar’s counter. They were the center of attention, laughing at what Belle Cora and one of the whores was saying. The hooker was nearly as old as Belle Cora with tired eyes and a meatless frame at odds with her generous cleavage. Any man who thought he’d have a handful to hold onto once she’d divested herself of her barely there red dress with its constraining corset would be disappointed.

There was a lot of disappointment in Eagle Canyon. Good things like the life growing in her friend Carrie Walsh’s belly made up for a great deal, but until the baby was safely here, Katharine would pray for mother and infant.

Or, she would, if she believed in a supreme being.

Are you certain I can’t buy you a whiskey? a man behind her asked. I’d think you’d be as weary of turning me down as I am of hearing the refusal.

She spun around. Dwight Jones loomed over her, his face hidden by his thick beard. She’d never mistake his rumbling voice. It would be like that even if they hadn’t known each other before they’d wound up in Eagle Canyon.

You know the answer to that, she said.

What is it? You think you’re superior? Neither of us believes that.

She should have taken more care to note who was nearby. If she had, she wouldn’t have settled so close to Dwight. Carrie was the only person she’d told about her history with Dwight and his uncle Albert More, but the two men seemed determined to detail when the three of them had lived in Dry Diggings, another gold town.

As one of Eagle Canyon’s oldest residents, and wealthy, to say nothing of his useless left arm, Albert stood out. He presented himself with an authority Katharine didn’t believe he deserved. To her way of thinking, the laudanum he relied on to ease the pain in his arm had rendered him incapable of comprehending what other people thought of him. Fortunately, she seldom had to interact with him. The few times he’d brought up their past, she’d refused to respond. Thinking about how he’d broached the subject, she’d concluded he wanted proof that she was willing to let that time die.

She was.

Dwight seemed content to walk in his uncle’s shadow. She’d heard he was currently employed at the Yuba Mine, which surprised her since Albert had always been generous with Dwight, who, many years ago, had risked his life saving Albert from the stallion that had shattered Albert’s arm. Maybe Dwight had decided it was time to stand on his own considering he hadn’t done a sterling job of working for his uncle. Maybe he was concerned Albert wouldn’t leave his fortune to him.

One day, you’ll stop turning me down. It better be before I’ve had it with you. Dwight picked up his half-empty glass and swallowed. You’re still a whore.

Be careful.

Careful? Of you?

A rattler isn’t dangerous until he strikes.

You’re a whore, not a rattlesnake.

A chill much like the one she’d experienced when she was studying the clouds rendered her speechless. It had to be the whiskey and his desire to show off. Once he sobered, she hoped he would be ashamed of what he’d said, if he remembered.

My reason for being here doesn’t concern you, just as what you’re discussing with him doesn’t concern me. She inclined her head toward his friend Randal who she’d never seen without the patch over his left eye. Randal wasn’t as tall or solid as Dwight but something about him made her uneasy. She told herself it was the black patch and his choice of companions.

There weren’t no conversation, Dwight said. Leastwise, not one we intend to share with the likes of anyone in here. But if you were of a mind to tend to our needs, you’d reap the benefits. We’re willing to share our riches with the right people.

Dwight and Randal bragged about the claim they worked on their one day a week off. She didn’t blame them for hoping things would pan out and they’d no longer have to work for someone else, but didn’t understand why they didn’t keep their dreams to themselves. It was one thing to throw a bag of gold nuggets on a table, quite another to have to admit they hadn’t found anything.

Determined to extricate herself from the two men, she cast around for someone to talk to. Her gaze went to Daniel and the man with him. She nodded at Dr. Piper. The physician was better than nothing, but she hoped Carrie wouldn’t have to rely on him for a successful delivery.

What do you think? she asked Dr. Piper over the din. Is it safe to eat trout these days? The river’s so low it looks like mud.

Dr. Piper picked at something on the scarred and stained wood table. If hunting is productive folks might not have to rely on fish, but in my opinion that’s better than no meat.

She nodded. My girls want to fish. I don’t suppose there’s any harm in letting them try.

If you’re concerned, don’t place anything on their hooks. By the way, I haven’t seen Carrie for a couple of weeks. When you do, tell her to drop by my office. I’ve purchased one of the new stethoscopes that makes use of both ears. I’m looking forward to hearing the baby’s heartbeat.

She flattened her hands over her chest. Wouldn’t that be exciting? To hear a child’s heart before birth...

Come with her. You can listen.

Still smiling, she looked at Daniel. His expression was so serious it concerned her. If there was something physically wrong with him, could the mine’s future be in doubt? She couldn’t imagine him discussing his health in a public place.

Feeling somewhat reassured because he almost always had a somber look about him, she slid off her chair.

Don’t be in a hurry to leave, Dwight taunted. Surely you can grace us with your presence for a few more minutes.

She planted herself before the miner. I’m not interested. Never have been. Never will. You know that.

Be careful what you say, Randal grumbled. There’s no call for you to be inhospitable.

Not bothering to answer, she collected her daughters and left. Maybe she’d confer with Belle Cora about the best way to deal with Dwight and Randal. Once she’d known how to handle such men, but she hadn’t had to for several years. Besides, she had two young children to protect. Hopefully, they hadn’t heard what Dwight had called her.

Most likely, Daniel and Dr. Piper had.

In the short amount of time she’d been inside, the clouds had nearly doubled in size and were noticeably darker. There was something beautiful about them, almost enough to allow her to discount the power behind them. The wind sent dust and pine needles flying. Debris struck her cheeks. Mary struggled to keep her long, dark hair out of her eyes.

Mama! Sally said sharply. Is there going to be a big storm?

What do you think?

Of course. Mary shook her head at her younger sister. What a silly question.

Mama. Don’t let her say stuff like that.

Mary, that’s enough. Look, we need to go straight home. Can you two run all the way?

Her head bobbing in anticipation of a challenge, Mary gathered up her skirt. I’ll beat you, she bragged to Sally. I’ll be home before you’re halfway there.

Sally started to whine, but a drumbeat of thunder killed the words. The sound sharpened, started to fade, then made Katharine’s ears feel like they’d been slapped. A gold-white slash cut through the clouds. Holding the girls against her, she filled her lungs. They risked getting caught in a downpour, but nature was putting on a show, and she wanted her daughters to appreciate it, not be afraid.

What if we watch once we’re home, she said. See if we agree about which lightning strike is the most impressive.

It won’t hit us, will it?

I won’t let it.

Shaking off fear, she reassessed. Mary was right. Standing out in the open wasn’t what a protective mother would do. She was, her entire being wrapped around the intensity of her love for her children. If her upbringing had been anything approaching stable, she’d know what to do.

The lightning appeared to be many miles away, but that could change in a moment. The thunder surrounded them, an inescapable force. Her senses were in overdrive,