Page 73 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
Emmett and Stoney left a few days later to spend some time in Denver. They were picking up mill equipment and wanted to show Levi how it would all come together by visiting a sawmill there.
Virgil was proud as hell of how much talent and interest Levi was showing in woodwork. He had encouraged him to go with Emmett and Stoney for many reasons, not least that it was good for a young man to step beyond his father’s shadow, but Virgil was surprised how deeply it affected him to have his son out of his sight. Through the day, he typically only saw Levi from a distance, up on the hills with the animals or he might hear a casual, “Howdy, Pa,” if Levi happened to be helping Emmett or Yeller at the storehouse.
The cabin ought to have been more comfortable now there was more room for all of them, but it felt empty. Nettie had decided the loft was spooky without her big brother to protect her, so she and Harley were back in Marigold’s bed.
“They can sleep with me. My bed is bigger,” Virgil told Marigold when she’d tucked them into her bed and come back to take up her sewing by candlelight.
“I don’t mind.” She barely looked at him these days if she could help it. She was always polite, never sassy. If she happened to be laughing with the children, her smile would fall away when she noticed him watching.
She wasn’t trying to make him feel like a shit heel, but he sure did feel like one.
“You can buy enough wool for a long gown,” he muttered when he noticed she was measuring out a dull gray plaid against the short one she usually wore. “You’ll need something warmer for winter.”
She blinked. “I find the shorter length is more convenient. I’m making a warm pair of bloomers as well.”
“Oh.” He kept tying the knots for the netting that would hold his mattress, but the next time he was down at the storehouse, he resolved to have Yeller order in more bolts of wool so she would have something to work with if she changed her mind.
He kept telling himself her reticence was for the best. There were plenty of times he had wished she had kept her opinions to herself, hadn’t he? Why the hell would he want to marry someone who offered nothing but cheek? Especially when he knew from experience that marrying because a woman kept a good home and was receptive to sex didn’t guarantee a happy future.
But the evenings were damned quiet once the little ones were asleep. He wished they could go back to at least a sense of camaraderie.
“Are you still getting gifts?” he asked her.
She straightened from laying out her fabric on the table. “Pardon?”
“I noticed the, uh…” He pointed at the skinned branch over the window with misshapen metal rings strung along it. If it was supposed to be a wind chime, it was ugly as hell, but Virgil had enough sense to keep that to himself.
“Oh. No. Nettie and I made it so I could get an idea whether it would work to hold curtains. I cut a tin can to make those rings, but they lost their shape. Yeller said he has a tool that will cut them more cleanly.”
“That’s a good idea.” He saw it in a new light and admired her ingenuity.
“I stole it from a former neighbor.”
Was that meant to land on target and sting? Because it did. She turned away, so he couldn’t be sure of her motive.
He resolved to keep an eye out for smooth branch wood the next time he got to chopping. It was time he stacked more than what Marigold needed for cooking, anyway. It was only mid-September, but the days were shorter and cooler. He started the fire in the stove when he rose the next morning, as much to warm himself as readying it to cook oatmeal.
“Papa?” Nettie peeked out Marigold’s bedroom door.
He touched his lips and motioned for her to come out. He shook out Marigold’s shawl from where she’d left it on the bench and held it up for his daughter.
She let him swaddle her into it and giggled when he picked her up and squeezed her.
“What’s up, little bug?” he asked quietly. “You should stay in bed where it’s warm.”
“Is Levi coming home today?”
Ah. “Today or tomorrow. If he’s late, don’t you worry. The bears are looking for a place to sleep for winter. They aren’t interested in chewy boys.”
“How do you know he’s chewy? Did you bite him?”
“Ha. You got me. I never have. Maybe I should bite you? See if you’re chewy?” He clacked his teeth.
She giggled and wiggled inside the snug shawl, then let her head tip onto his shoulder. “I miss him,” she said wistfully.
“If he comes home today, they’ll arrive in the afternoon. Do you want to come down to the office later and wait with us?”
She nodded.
