Chapter 6

Samantha

Tarryall, Colorado Territory, July 1861

Rose woke up from a deep, satisfied sleep when Raven started her usual morning ruckus with pans and pots. She opened the drapes of their bed, to look out, when strong arms wrapped around her midsection and pulled her back. She looked up into Jim's eyes and smiled at him. Obviously, he took this as encouragement, and he planted a long kiss on her lips. His hands held her boobies, caressing them tenderly. When their lips parted, he kissed her forehead.

"You're a wonderful woman, Rose. Don't ever let anybody tell you differently."

A wave of emotion swept over Rose, and she said something that she thought she would never say, let alone mean.

"Jim, I think, I may love you. Isn't that strange? I didn't know you, four months ago, and now I can't see my life without you."

"You hold my heart in your hands, Rose," he replied.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she let her hands wander to his midsection.

"Would you rather I held your staff?" she whispered.

"Whatever you want to hold is fine with me," he replied, with a gleam in his eyes.

"How 'bout she holds a shovel? There's panning to do, so get up! Ouch!" Ned shouted.

"You leave them alone, Mr. Gourd, if you know what's good for you," Mandy scolded him, but they heard laughter in her voice.

With a mutual sigh, they slipped on their tunics and pants and ambled out of bed. As usual, Jim and Ned went out first to wash in the creek. They circled the cabin, rifles ready, to make sure nobody and nothing lurked in the bushes before they did their morning fresh-up.

Mandy and Rose followed then, to repair any damage the night had done to them. Unabashedly, Rose squatted over the creek, to wash her privates. Mandy just giggled and followed suit. The mood was upbeat that morning, and Jim and Rose had to sit through a lot of banter during breakfast. Only Raven had a slightly wistful air about her.

They returned to their placer with a vengeance. The last two months, while not killing her, had greatly hardened Rose. She was stronger now, tougher, and she did not tire as easily as before. Still, it was hard work, and the return that morning was not overwhelming. A half ounce of gold dust was all they recovered.

They decided to move a little upstream to another, yet untouched sandbar, after lunch. It was good they did. Within five hours, they had panned two-and-a-half ounces, bringing up their total for the day to three, a decent return.

It was enough to have them all in good spirits when they turned in for the night. Of course, Jim wanted to practice his newly discovered skills as a lover, and Rose was more than happy to continue her tutoring. He was eager and willing to learn from her, and Rose delighted in teaching Jim ways to satisfy her. He still had to work on control, but Rose was confident that this would also get better with time and practice.

It took them another three weeks to exhaust that new placer, yielding them another forty ounces of gold dust. They planned to move further upstream, but at that time, Ned noticed worrisome signs. It was only early August, but the wild animals they saw were clearly preparing for winter, collecting food almost day and night. Many animals were growing their winter pelts already. To an experienced frontiersman, the meaning of this was clear: they were in for an early and long winter.

In response, Jim and Ned checked their supply of firewood and other necessities. They had enough wood to last a normal winter, but they were worried enough to cut down more trees, preparing stacks of green wood. They figured it would dry some before they would need it. They also rode into Tarryall to purchase provisions for the winter: beans, flour, bacon, sugar, and coffee. On Jim's insistence, they also bought a cask of pickled cabbage. It would prevent scurvy, as Jim knew from his soldier days.

They hunted, too, and they spent days to conserve meat and render fat. Using clay from a downstream deposit, they patched cracks in the cabin walls and replaced damaged shingles on the roof. They cut tall grass, on the high plain above their valley, and stored the dry hay for their horses and mules. Four sacks of oats, bought at a premium, were also tucked away safely in a lean-to behind the cabin that would shelter the animals.

By late August, they had done everything possible to prepare for a long winter, and for a few days, they returned to panning. With the shorter days of late summer, they recovered less than in spring, but they found and marked another promising placer for next spring.

The women, under Raven's teaching, prepared warm winter clothing from the skins and pelts of the animals Jim and Ned hunted, and when, in mid-September, the temperatures dropped sharply and the few snow flakes drifted in the cold wind, they were as ready for the winter as they could.

And that was what saved them. The early snowfall and the freezing temperatures caught many of their fellow diggers flatfooted and unprepared. The newcomers, in many cases, had not built adequate shelters, but even the veteran diggers suffered. By mid-October, three feet of snow covered the ground. Using snow shoes, Jim made his way into Tarryall, one morning. It was almost dark when he returned. The news he brought was not good.

"Tarryall is swamped with people. All the greenhorns are there, and even some old timers who missed the signs," he told them. "Golding and the fellow who runs the Mother Lode let them sleep in the stables, between the horses. The problem is food. Those poor saps spend all this year's winnings, just to get some bread. The merchants charge outrageously for provisions."

"Good Lord! What are they going to do?"

"The Marshal sent to Denver, asking for relief. They're still waiting for an answer. In this weather, no mules can come through anyway."

"What did you do, then?" Ned asked.

Jim grinned.

"Walked around, asking for free food. Told them, we're snowed in and in need of food. No need letting folks know we're well stocked."

Ned nodded gravely.

"Them no-good greenhorns would be here in two shakes, giving us a hard time."

"My thinking as well. Let's keep a good vigil, though. I'd hate to be killed over our provisions."

Even through this serious talk, Rose felt confidence. They were prepared, thanks mostly to their men's alertness. And if push came to shove, they were five, armed well, and in a sturdy cabin.

Their worries proved to be without substance. For the next two months, not a soul showed in their valley. Each day, either Jim and Rose or Ned and Mandy went out to check their trap lines. With the wild animals as desperate for food as the humans, trapping was great that winter. That early in winter, the animals were still fat, providing good nourishment to the humans. They all worked several hours each day, curing the pelts, and that filled the short days.

They also slept a lot, by necessity. Sex was difficult, if not impossible, in the almost freezing temperatures. The fire warmed only a small area around the fireplace, and to undress in the beds was unbearable. They cuddled a lot, though, and both couples became closer. Raven gravitated back towards Jim and Rose, out of necessity, and she was welcomed to add and share warmth. Some nights, in spite of the fire, the cabin was so cold that they all slept huddled in one bed.

Right around Christmas Day, they hit a warmer spell, or rather, a less severely cold spell. With some precautions, they could ride the horses through the snow, and they paid a visit to Tarryall.

At the Golden Nugget, they found most of the population congregated for a Christmas service. The preacher whose ordination was at best questionable delivered an inspiring sermon nonetheless. For the closing, Mr. Golding asked Rose to sing for the assembled crowd. She complied readily, as she had promised.

The men and women listened in rapt attention when Rose sang for them. This afternoon, she focussed on ballads and spiritual songs, and many of the men had tears in their eyes, listening to her. When she had finished, Rose, together with Mandy and Raven, handed out sweet biscuits which they had baked in the last few days using flour, ground nuts, and some honey from a stock of wild bees. For the starved diggers, this was almost too much.

One young fellow, a newcomer, when handed a biscuit took hold of Rose's hand.

"You shore are an angel come to earth, Mrs. Tremayne," he said reverently.

"That she is, and Mrs. Gourd, too," the Marshal spoke up. "By God, even the young Redskin lady is an angel!"

"It just proves God's power that he can use a heathen girl as a tool of His Mercy," the preacher added his penny, in a solemn voice.

Poor Raven blushed under her bronze skin, and both Rose and Mandy smiled uneasily in their embarrassment. Then, Rose saw a movement behind the wall of people who surrounded them in the hope of catching a biscuit. It was a girl, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, and frighteningly thin.

"You Gentlemen, please," she shouted. When she had their ear, she continued. "Will you please, for the love of God, let that poor lass through?"

Embarrassed, a few of the men moved aside to admit the girl to the centre.

"Do you want a biscuit, Sweety?" Rose asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, very much so," the girl answered shyly.

Rose gave her the biggest one left.

"Here, Sweety. Sit behind us for a spell, will you, while you eat it."

The girl took cover behind the women.

"Now, you gentlemen who let her through, come forward!" Mandy smiled, handing out biscuits.