Rocky Mountain Dreams

Joseph swallowed. “Can you tell me where to find him?”

“I’m sorry, son. Your father died nearly six months ago.”

Dead. So Joseph had spent everything he had on a fool’s errand. He should be comforted to know that the reason the money had stopped was that his pa had died. But comfort wouldn’t feed his family or keep them out of the orphanage.

Chapter Two (#ulink_c7de359e-f12e-5ba0-87f0-a9676e5f177c)

Joseph stood and extended his hand. “Thank you, sir, for your time. I appreciate your assistance.”

The preacher didn’t take it. He looked up at him with cornflower-blue eyes that inappropriately reminded Joseph of Annabelle.

“Sit back down, young man. You have a problem, and informing you of the sad news of your father’s passing doesn’t solve it. I can’t in good conscience let you leave until we’ve got a better solution for your family.”

A man who’d spent years caring for a family in place of an absent father didn’t weep. But in the face of the past few weeks, combined with the news that it had all been for nothing, this man’s kindness made him want to do so.

Preacher Lassiter stood. “It seems to me that as your father’s son, you’d be next of kin. Therefore, I think it fitting that I give you some papers your father entrusted me with. I recognize you from a picture he showed me.”

Hopefully those papers would lead to the source of the money his pa had been sending. It hadn’t been much, but maybe, just maybe, it would be a start. One of the men he’d sat next to on the train had talked about places out West that still needed settling. He could take advantage of the Homestead Act. Sure, it wouldn’t be the farm they’d lost, but it would be enough. Farming was good, honest work, and certainly more rewarding than all the time Joseph had spent in the mines.

For the first time since coming out here, Joseph felt hopeful that maybe things would finally be all right.

“I appreciate that, Preacher. Anything you can do is a blessing.”

The preacher smiled at him. “Call me Frank.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and walked past him. “I’ve got his things in a safe I keep in the other room, so I’ll be right back.”

It had to be a good sign that his pa’s papers were important enough to be kept in a safe. Maybe his snake of a father had done right by his family after all.

Joseph looked up to see a portrait of Jesus staring him down. He gave a long sigh. It had been wrong of him to be so disrespectful of his pa. Someday, he’d be able to ask forgiveness for it. Right now, though, he couldn’t be sorry. Not with all the mouths he had to provide for. And the fact that his pa was the very reason they were in this predicament.

Was it wrong to reserve his forgiveness and apologies until after he knew his family was safe?

Probably so. But it had been a long time since Joseph had been to church. Not since his pa left and one of the women in their old church had said something to his ma about her husband never coming back. After that, Ma hadn’t wanted to be around the mean, spiteful women, and Joseph had too much work to do to argue.

The door opened again, and Frank returned, carrying a stack of papers. “Your father had interests in a number of mines. I grubstaked him on a few of his projects.”

It didn’t seem very pastorly for a man of God to give out money for prospecting. “Why?”

He smiled, again reminding Joseph of Annabelle. “Because a man has a certain level of pride. It’s easier to ask for money if you think you’re giving someone something in return. So I give the miners what they need, and they give me a ten percent ownership in their mines. It eases their pride knowing that they’re not taking a handout.”

Frank’s grin turned a bit mischievous. “I’ve never had a single mine pan out, but boy, wouldn’t that be something.”

“It sounds like gambling.” On one hand, it was nice that the preacher was willing to give money to miners in need, but how was he helping those men? How many of the men taking money from the preacher had families back home who could’ve used that money?

“Now you sound like my daughter.” Frank sat back in his chair. “I see it as an investment in these men’s dreams. When I was a boy, I wanted nothing more than to be a preacher. But my family came from money, and such things weren’t done. So I followed their plan and found myself rich and miserable. When I told my wife I was leaving the family firm to become a preacher, she asked me what had taken so long.”

The peace flitting across Frank’s face stirred envy unlike any Joseph had ever experienced. What would it be like to give everything up to follow your dreams? Of course, it had been so long since Joseph had dared dream anything, he wasn’t sure what that would be.

“So here I am, spreading God’s word in an ungodly town. And if I find a man whose dreams I can encourage, I do. I call it an investment. I suppose the difference between my investments and gambling is that I don’t expect a return. At least not here on earth.”

So nonchalant about being able to give it all away. “Doesn’t the church object to you spending their money on such a foolish endeavor?”

Another grin. “I don’t use the church’s money. The money I invest comes straight out of my personal income. It irks poor Annabelle to no end that I help the miners, but they’ve got to have someone who believes in them.”

Maybe. But he’d have to agree with Annabelle that he’d be better off not funding such schemes. “How much was Pa in to you for?”

Frank chuckled. “Again, it was not a loan. I gave him money freely. But that’s not the right question. The question is, how much will you be able to get from his mines?”

With that, Frank sorted through the papers. “I have here papers for five different mining claims. As far as I know, not one has panned out.” He looked up at Joseph. “However, about a week before he died, your father was anxious about the Mary May. He came to me and asked if I could keep his papers safe.”

“Did someone kill him?”

Frank shrugged. “Hard to tell. He fell down a ravine. Did he fall or was he pushed? No one knows. And no one really cared enough to find out.”

Joseph supposed he should care, but honestly, if his pa wasn’t already dead, he might have to kill him himself. “Why would someone kill him for holdings that aren’t very valuable?”

Frank looked around, slowly. “Every now and again, I’d find bits of silver in the offering. I never knew where they came from. I figured it was a miner’s way of giving back but not wanting to call attention to himself. One day, I noticed your father slipping silver into the offering when he thought no one was looking.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Now I ask you. Why would a man hide having so much silver?”

With what Joseph was learning about his pa, he had a pretty good idea. “So he wouldn’t have to give your share to you? Only he felt guilty about not giving something to the church, so he put in a portion?”

Frank leaned back and gave another shrug. “Or maybe he’d found the big one and was trying to go about securing it before making the big announcement. Like I said, he’d been talking about the Mary May last time I saw him.”

At least his pa had some loyalty, naming the mine after one of the daughters he’d abandoned back home. Not that it would give her any comfort at all.

Joseph riffled through the crumbled, dirty papers. Each of his sisters had a mine named after them. Maybe he’d give each of his siblings the papers to their mines. Probably worthless, but at least something to remember their pa.

“You think I should check out the Mary May?”

“Wouldn’t hurt. He had a cabin up that way. Maybe you’ll find some of his personal belongings or something that can help your quest.”

Joseph sighed. The preacher was right. It wouldn’t hurt. Maybe this cabin would be a safer place to keep Nugget. “I’ll check it out. See if the cabin is livable.”

Frank pointed at the shadows in the window. “Not tonight, you won’t. It’s going to be too dark to head up there now, and having been to the cabin once, I can tell you that Billy did a real nice job of making it hard to find.”

Somehow, his pa’s cleverness at making a hidden cabin didn’t bring the same kind of twinkle to his mind as it did to the preacher’s eyes. Maybe he’d once had that kind of fondness for his pa, but after cleaning up so much of his pa’s mess, he wasn’t so kindly inclined.

“Thank you, Preacher. Would you happen to know of a place willing to rent a room to us tonight? I’ve tried just about everywhere, but being where Nugget came from and all, no one wants us.”

Maybe the preacher could put in a good word for them. It was only one night. Then they could go to his pa’s cabin and make it a temporary home for Nugget. What his siblings would do when they found out...well, it’d be like losing their parents all over again. Especially for the girls, who’d been sheltered from such things.

“You’ll stay with us, of course. It’s a shame to have all those bedrooms sit empty when there are heads needing a place to rest. And I told you, it’s Frank.” The preacher’s smile appeared benign, but Joseph saw the underlying power behind it. There’d be no arguing with this man.

And really, it would be foolish. He was running out of money, and with an extra mouth to feed, he had to think beyond his pride. But someday...he’d keep an account of all the preacher had done for him and his family and he’d pay him back.

“Again, my thanks. Your generosity is—”

“None of that.” Frank held up his hand. “The Lord has been generous to me, so it’s only right that I am generous in return.”