"What delayed you?"

  "Buffalo felt ill--perhaps something he ate--so we allowed him to rest until the sun was high and the frost had gone." What, she wondered, would Boss say if he knew that Buffalo had been ill from the effects of overindulgence--in all the dissolute pleasures Bannock City had to offer?

  He would probably approve. Yes, as a man who undoubtedly had himself indulged in such dissipation, Boss would approve, or at least sympathize.

  She had long ago decided that males were very strange. They condemned behavior in females that in other males they encouraged and even admired.

  Just then Buffalo returned from taking the horses to the livery corral. Boss met him outside and spoke sharply to him although Soomey could not hear words. They walked away from the tent, but only so far that their voices could be heard as an indistinct murmur. When Boss laughed, using that singular tone that males always used when speaking of sex, she knew she had been right.

  As they ate, Soomey listened while Boss told Buffalo of his plans.

  "We'll find someone to mind the store, but I want you all with me, so that means we move, bag and baggage. Tomorrow if possible, even though it's Christmas. I'm still hoping to find the cave before the snow gets too deep. Building the cabin's going to slow me down some."

  "Ma sets a right store by Christmas," Buffalo said slowly. "Maybe I should'a gone home."

  "Oh hell, Buff, I didn't even think..."

  "Ma will understand. If I had gone off and left you, she'd be real put out with me. She said I was to keep you out of trouble."

  Silas rather thought she'd told Buff to keep himself out of trouble, but he contained his smile. Christmas! He wondered if Soomey and Tao Ni even knew what it was. Well, they had that haunch of venison and those carrots Mrs. Appledore had given him. Maybe Tao Ni could find some mushrooms. He'd not say anything for now. They could celebrate up at the cabin site.

  "I doubt there's much snow in the high country yet," Buffalo said. "If this keeps up I'll be able to get home whenever I want. I disremember a winter when we didn't have a couple feet of snow on the ground by now."

  Chuckling, Boss said, "It's a far cry from the winter I went up to Lapwai. I was stuck in a snow cave for ten days, halfway there. And that was earlier in the year than this."

  "I never heard about that. What'd you go to Lapwai for?"

  "Emmet sent me to fetch Flower." He turned to Soomey, who seemed enthralled. "Buff was named after her father--a real old he-coon. She was supposed to be at the Whitman Mission, but she wasn't so I kept going."

  Soomey listened as he told of a weeks-long trek over mountains and through blizzards. Boss made it sound simple, but she wondered if it had been. Her experience of snow made her doubt it. Snow was bitterly cold and difficult to travel in.

  "We got back to the cabin down on the Boise just in time. Your sister was born the next day. Having another woman about made a real difference to Hattie. Buffalo, he'd died a month back and Emmet didn't know anything about birthing." Boss chewed on his pipe stem a moment. "I reckon I was about the age you are now--fourteen or so--although I've never known exactly. Hattie and me, we tried to find out when I was born, but nobody seemed to know."

  "I turned fifteen last month," Buffalo said, as if insulted at being thought younger than he was.

  Soomey looked at Boss with new respect. He was truly a courageous man. Few grown men would have had the perseverance to complete such a mission, and he had been little more than a child. At the same time she regretted knowing how strong and brave he had been. How could such a one understand her weakness, her submission to Captain Slye?

  "...anyone who might be looking for work?"

  Soomey had missed Boss's first few words. She listened more carefully as she gathered the empty plates to be washed.

  "I don't know all that many folks hereabouts," Buffalo said. "Have you asked at Appledore's?"

  "Posted a notice there yesterday," Silas said, leaning through the tent flap to light a splinter at the fire. He held it to his pipe and drew several times to get it going.

  Even with her eyes closed, Soomey would know Boss was nearby. His tobacco had a sweet odor, one that clung to his clothing and his hair. She drew a deep breath, smelling woodsmoke and fresh air and sweat--smelling Boss. No one else smelled just like he did.

  She chewed her lip for a moment, considering. Ji Rong had caught her on her way back from the necessary. He was certain no one had followed Boss for at least three days. In his opinion, the watcher was more interested in her and Tao Ni than in Boss.

  Soomey was not so certain, but once they no longer lived in town, she and Buffalo and Tao Ni could watch Boss. "There is one who might work for you," she said.

  With spectacles, Ji Rong would be able to see well enough. Her purchase of them had been an afterthought, made only when she'd seen them on a shelf in Min Bao's store. She would give them to him in the morning.

  Boss looked at her, surprise written on his face. "You know somebody? Who?"

  "There is a young person, his leg is twisted, but he is honest and diligent."

  "You mean the Celestial with the limp? I don't want a beggar working here."

  "Feng Ji Rong is not beggar. He works--" No, she did not wish to tell Boss what she had done to protect him. Not yet, at least. "His work is no more. He is seeking other."

  Boss looked at her, as if suspecting she was telling him less than he wished to hear. "Tell him to come see me, then, tomorrow."

  "I can find him tonight," she said, rising.

  "Sit down. Morning's soon enough."

  She obeyed. Her legs still ached from being stretched astride the horse's back. When they moved tomorrow, she would insist on walking. Did she not have excellent, strong boots?

  * * * *

  "Here." Silas looked about him. The steep hillside leveled into a bench a couple of hundred feet above the valley floor. There was a good view of the Ophir Creek drainage, although Centerville was out of sight around the shoulder of the hill. It was a little over an hour's walk to town. "We'll build here."

  He'd taken a good saw, shovels and a couple of axes from the stock in his store, borrowed pack mules from Hiram. As soon as the next shipment of freight came, they'd have a few comforts. Life hadn't seemed this uncomfortable when he'd come across from Pennsylvania with Hattie. Or had age and experience taught him to hate sleeping wet and waking up cold?

  He assigned chores as soon as they'd unloaded the horses and the pack mules. "Buff, you and Tao Ni scout out some trees--nothing bigger than two hands' breadth. I want to be able to handle them. And Soomey, you dig the foundation trenches."

  With his heel, Silas marked the approximate dimensions of the cabin on the ground. It would be nothing fancy, but it would have a loft for him and the boys, and a corner to curtain off for Soomey's bedroom. Later he'd add a room for her.

  He wanted to be as far from her at night as he could. It was getting more and more difficult to ignore the soft sounds of her breathing and the rustling of her blanket as she turned. Last night he'd lain awake for a long time, half aroused, images of her drifting across his mind.

  Damn! He hadn't been this constantly horny since he was Buff's age.

  A haunch of venison roasted as they worked, getting turned on its spit whenever anyone thought to do so. After she had finished the first trench, Soomey set soaked beans to simmer beside the fire, flavoring them with the last of the bacon and some of the bittersweet syrup Boss called blackstrap. Tao Ni was seeking mushrooms in the woods, and had said he would go to the spring where watercress grew. Perhaps some had survived the cold weather.

  If only she had thought to dig cat-tail when she was in Bannock City. She had harvested all she'd found near Centerville. "Ah, well," she said as she wiped sand from the carrots, "I will only cook these a little bit, so they will be crisp." With her cleaver, she chopped them into thick circles.

  She wondered about this holiday, Christmas. Neither Captain Slye nor Captain Wilkins had spoken of it, so she knew little about it. Buffalo said it celebrated the birth of a wise man, and Boss said it was also a time of gift giving.

  She would like to give Boss fine, fragrant tobacco. He had complained that what he had left in his pouch was dry and harsh. For Buffalo, she could have sewed a shirt of bright calico, and for Tao Ni, as well. Alas, she had not known, so there were no gifts.

  At the end of the day, she had both foundation trenches dug and blisters on her hands. She was washing them carefully when Boss and Buffalo came from the woods.

  "You tell me I will not have to dig for you," she teased, smiling up at him. "What is this I have done today?"

  He took her hands, smoothed his thumbs over the blisters. "Hell, Soomey, I'm sorry. You should have used my gloves."

  She looked at his hands, then at hers and giggled. "I would be so busy keeping them on that I would never dig." Pulling her hands free, although she would rather have left them clasped in his, she said, "If you will wait one minute, I have water hot for washing. Then we will eat."

  "Sounds good," Buffalo said. "My belly's been talkin' for the last hour."

  They sat in the tent to eat, she and Tao Ni on thick layers of canvas, Boss and Buffalo on short, fat sections of log cut from one of the trees they had dragged into the clearing. The candle lanterns hanging from the tent poles gave little light, but she did not need it to see their faces. Soomey was not surprised when the only sounds as they ate were the scraping of forks on tin plates. They had all worked very hard that day.

  Eventually Boss finished and set his plate aside. "That was mighty tasty, Soomey. You're a good cook."

  A glow of pleasure spread through her.

  "I don't know what you did to those carrots, but they was almost edible," Buffalo said. "Ma, she's tried cooking them every which way from Sunday, and I just can't learn to like them, except fresh out of the garden."

  Her face as warm as her heart, Soomey gathered up the plates.

  "Leave 'em," Boss said. "Buff and Tao Ni can do 'em later."

  She saw Buffalo frown, but he said nothing. He did not like doing women's work, but had told her how his mother had made him learn to cook and sew right along with his sisters. She wondered if his father had taught them to hunt and plow.

  "Now," Boss said, when she had sat again, "I guess it's up to me to play Santy Claus."

  "What is that?" Tao Ni whispered to her.

  "Hush," she murmured. "I do not know but Boss will surely tell us."

  Reaching behind him, Boss pulled out three small packages, all wrapped in clean brown paper and tied with bows of satin ribbon. He handed them around. "Merry Christmas."

  She looked at the odd-shaped package curiously. The ribbon was scarlet, almost exactly the color of her favorite dress. Her callused fingertip caught on it, then slipped along its bright curl.

  Buffalo was ripping the paper from his package. Tossing it aside, he held up a wooden case, opened it. "Aw, gee, Silas. This is...well, it's just about the greatest present I ever got." Delicately, between thumb and forefinger, he lifted a shiny razor, much like the one Captain Wilkins had used.

  "I'll show you how to strop it tomorrow," Boss said. "Glad you like it."

  "I do. Heck. Well, gee. I...thank you kindly."

  Boss laughed. "You're welcome." He turned to Tao Ni. "Aren't you going to open yours?"

  "This is for me?" Soomey heard wonder in his voice.

  A nod.

  Carefully Tao Ni untied the ribbon--bright green--and unfolded the paper with hands that trembled. Soomey wanted to tell him to hurry, for she was as excited as he.

  It was wrapped well, with several layers of paper. Tao Ni smoothed each one before removing the next. But at last he held in his hand a folding knife. He looked up at Boss. "For me?" he said again.

  "For you. Just mind you don't cut a finger off with it. I made sure it was real sharp."

  "I be ver' careful," Tao Ni vowed. He clasped the knife to his chest, apparently unaware of the tears running down each cheek. "I thank you."

  Buffalo reached out and pulled the younger boy close. "Let's see what you've got there, Tony. How many blades does it have?"

  Soomey felt close to tears herself, a different sort of tears than she had ever shed. "You are good man, Boss," she said softly.

  "Open your present," he told her.

  "I have nothing for you."

  "You don't need to. Hattie always said that giving gifts was way more fun than getting 'em. I see now what she meant."

  Removing the ribbon, Soomey put it carefully aside. She would keep it forever. The paper folded back to reveal a small hand mirror, framed in honey-colored wood. Even in the dim room, she could see how fine it was. Her face looked back at her without distortion. "Oh, Boss...!"

  "You like it?"

  She set the mirror down and leaned across to take his hand. So strong. She raised it to her mouth, kissed his knuckles. "Thank you. How did you know I have always wanted mirror?"

  "Hey, that ain't no way to thank a fella," Buffalo said. "You got to kiss him right."

  Flustered, Soomey sat back down. "What you mean?"

  "Well, my sisters always kiss me on the cheek, but Ma, she kisses Pa right on the mouth after she opens her presents."

  Soomey looked at Boss, wondering if she dared.

  He looked back, his expression forbidding. After a moment, he tapped his cheek. "This'll do."

  She went to him, kissed his cheek. It was cool and smooth, and his beard tickled her chin.

  So strange a longing. She had never before liked kissing.

  * * * *

  They labored the next two days. Silas went down to his store early each afternoon to see how Ji Rong was doing. The second time, he dropped in at Appledore's afterward.

  "Set awhile, won't you?" The grocer waved Silas toward a seat made from half a barrel. "You'll be wantin' to hear the latest news."

  "I saw a couple of new tents, but didn't get down to see what they were. More saloons, I imagine?"

  "Just one. The other's a hotel, leastways that's what it's meant to be. But it's got no beds, and no outhouse. Too close to the creek."

  His pipe started, Silas leaned back, making himself comfortable. "Is he going to move?"

  "That's what he says, but he ain't shown any sign of when. So far he's not had many lodgers, either, considerin' he's charging four bits a night to sleep on the ground." Appledore used a crate as a step so he could seat himself on the counter. "That Chinaman you got working for you. I reckon you know he's brought in his family, too. They're camped up the draw behind your store, along with all them that came last week."

  "I think they're all related. It was Soomey's idea for them to camp up there. They'll keep the riffraff from sneaking in the back."

  The grocer shook his head. "I don't cotton to them myself. Always gabbling to themselves in that outlandish tongue, so a body don't know what they're sayin'. Let 'em learn to talk English, if they want to do business with me."

  Knowing how common Hiram's prejudices were among the miners, Silas simply shrugged. "I see Vester's almost done building his saloon."

  "Well, now that's another problem. Leastways, I see it so. Too bad there ain't a way to keep ruffians like that out of town." He lowered himself from the counter, went to add another log to the fat stove standing in the center of the store. Over his shoulder, he said, "Now I'm in favor of puttin' up buildin's, same as the next fellow, but I'd just as soon they were stores and boarding houses, not saloons."

  In Silas' experience, saloons always came before anything else. He'd been surprised to see a grocery store as the first permanent building in Centerville. "I take it you don't think much of the saloon keeper."

  "It ain't him so much as his gang," Hiram said. "I've no quarrel with Vester. Oh, he's a bully, but he ain't one to bother honest folks, but some of them fellows works for him are something else again. I declare, there's one looks like one of them Texas gunfighters, with silver doodads on his hat and fancy spurs. Carries two handguns, too."

  * * * *

  "Hey Eli, where you been?" Wilf crowded in beside Henry and shouldered Eli off his stool.

  Eli knew better than to complain. "Nowhere."

  Wilf motioned to the barkeep, somebody Eli'd never seen before. 'Course, they was a lot of fellas he'd never seen before. And more comin' up the trail ever' day. He dragged another stool up to the table and edged in beside Wilf.

  "You've been somewheres, Eli," Henry said. "I ain't seen you for nigh a week."

  "I tell you I ain't been nowhere," Eli said. "You jest didn't see me, that's all."

  Wilf half emptied his beer mug. "Well, I was over there in Bannock City," he said, wiping his moustache. "It don't look like the same place. There's a bunch of new buildings, and tents a'springin' up everywhere."

  "We got new buildings here, too, Wilf. And somebody said there was close to a hundred tents now."

  "Shaddup, Eli. I was talkin' about Bannock City."

  He turned away, and started talking to Henry. Eli waved again at the bartender, but as usual, he was ignored.

  Goddam it. I've jest about had enough. Why there ain't a one of 'em as good as me, but to see 'em carry on, you'd think I was dirt under their boots.

  If Wilf only knew, wouldn't he be surprised! Someday they'll all know, then they'll be sorry.

  Joe DiCastro sat down across the table and lit one of his long, thin cigarillos. "Too bad you weren't here yesterday, Wilf," he said, a shit-eatin' grin on his face. "Pete Johnson pulled up stakes and moved over to Placerville. Said his claim was playin' out and not worth keeping."

  "Consarn you, Eli!" Wilf said, slapping the table. "How come you never told me?"

  "I didn't know--"

  "Well, you knew I had my eye on that there claim." He shoved back from the table, nearly knocking Eli off his stool. "Let's go."

  "I ain't drank my beer yet, Wilf."

  "I said, let's go. I want to git down to Pete's claim afore anybody else does."

  Before Eli could answer, DiCastro spoke up. "Too late. Half a dozen Celestials are already workin' it."

 

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