Page 63 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
Levi was already gone to release the livestock. Nettie and Harley were dressed and sitting outside next to the fire, each with a bowl of oatmeal in their laps. Marigold wore the prettiest smile of pleased surprise when he dismounted.
“We don’t usually see you back here midday. Is anything wrong?”
“I forgot something.”
“Oh?” She slid her gaze to the little ones, then trailed him toward the cabin door.
He would love a stolen kiss, but, “Owen’s expecting me right back. Are you doing laundry today?”
“Yes— No, Harley. Don’t eat that.” She hurried back to the fire.
Virgil walked into the cabin to see she’d already gathered his clothes into the net she’d made of twine to carry laundry down to the stream and back. He pulled it apart, withdrew his heavy denim trousers, and checked all the pockets including the seat pockets where he never kept the nugget.
It wasn’t here. Huh.
He stood and looked around on the floor, leaning to open the door more fully, letting in as much light as possible. He pulled his dirty shirt out of the bundle and checked the chest pockets and shook out all the clothes, watching and listening for the drop of a solid gold nugget.
“What are you doing?” She arrived in the open door again. She frowned at the way he’d strewn the laundry onto the bench and was now shaking out all the bedding.
“I’ve lost my nugget.”
“What nugget?”
“The gold nugget I keep in my pocket.”
“You keep a gold nugget in your pocket?” She started to come in and bent to look, but he waved her off. “Why?”
“It’s my lucky nugget. The first one I found when we got here.” They’d all been disheartened by the journey, wondering what they would do if this venture failed to pay out. Wondering if they were going to die here, tired and hungry.
Virgil had been searching for a sign it was worth staying here and pursuing their plan when he’d spotted the nugget sitting in a couple of inches of water, shiny as a new penny in a wishing well.
“How big is it?”
“Size of a hummingbird egg.” It wasn’t even half an ounce.
“How much is it worth?”
“Ten dollars.” Maybe. He sighed shortly as he got the beds stripped and the mattresses shaken and still found nothing. He threw all the bedding onto the lower bunk and got down to look under it.
“You’ve found bigger ones, haven’t you? Yeller told me you sometimes let the men buy a nugget if they want to keep something they’ve found.”
“That’s not the point, Marigold.” He ran his hand into the dark space, finding nothing but a desiccated berry and a dead spider. He stood, annoyed. “Where is it?”
Marigold snapped her head around from checking on the children. “Are you asking me if I have it? I’ve just told you, I didn’t even know you had a lucky nugget.”
He wasn’t accusing her, but he was hearing her say again,How much is it worth?
And there was the ledger book he’d bought her with her neat little figures shaving down her debt with her haircuts and other services. He didn’t blame her for wanting money and wanting to clear her debt.
“Men know not to take gold out of this valley unless they can prove they earned or paid for it,” he blurted.
“Yes, you shoot the ones who do. Good thing I’m not a man. And that I haven’t touched your precious nugget.” She was glaring at him, but the double-entendre hit both their ears at the same time. She went red, and he felt his own face grow hot with a mix of embarrassment and anger.
Because now there was this poisonous thought creeping in that they’d been intimate last night and this morning one of his most valuable possessions was missing.
“Nettie, have you seen your father’s gold nugget?” Marigold called. “You have?”
Virgil stepped onto the stoop, damned near bowling Marigold over, but she didn’t let him steady her. She brushed off his hands as she stumbled and found her feet by herself.
