Page 21 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
Marigold pulled herself from wondering why Virgil had to coax his children like wild dogs to come near him and turned to see a pregnant woman standing on the stoop of what Marigold fearfully suspected was her new home. Leyohna looked younger than Marigold’s twenty-six. She had glossy black braids and clothing made of buff-colored hide and what looked to be hand-woven wool.
“Hello.” Marigold smiled, and Leyohna smiled back, but with caution. She was studying Marigold’s clothes and taking her measure before she glanced over the children, gaze lingering on Harley with conflicted regret.
It was easy enough to sum up that the other woman felt genuine affection for the children but had her own responsibilities bearing down on her. Leyohna and Virgil exchanged words in what Marigold presumed was the Ute language. They ended with him giving a decisive nod.
“Papa, no,” Nettie said in a pitifully anguished tone, indicating she had followed their conversation. Her sadness wrenched at Marigold’s heart.
“Her family goes south for the winter, Nettie. You knew she was only here until…” He glanced at Marigold, seeming perplexed as he realized she could also be temporary.
Don’t dismiss her feelings, Marigold wanted to scold him, but Leyohna was already crouched and hugging Nettie, speaking to the girl in a tone of comfort.
“I have to check on the diggings,” Virgil said in a grumble. “Men will be looking for their mail.”
“Can I come?” Levi asked him.
Virgil nodded, saying curtly, “Nettie, you help Mrs. Davis settle in while Leyohna goes across to tell her family—” He left it hanging, nodded once, and stalked off.
Coward, Marigold wanted to shout at his back.
An awkward silence ensued between her and Leyohna. Harley was oblivious. He crouched to dig at something in the grass with his finger, but Nettie was fighting tears. Her little fists were in hard knots at her sides. She sent Marigold a death glare straight from her father’s arsenal, one that reviled her for being the instrument of her loss.
“Nettie, are you able to speak to Leyohna for me? I’m hoping she’s staying a little longer. Will you please ask her to help us both get used to our new situation?”
Nettie did, tearfully, and Leyohna assured them she wouldn’t leave without saying a proper goodbye. That seemed to mollify Nettie a little, and Marigold picked up her things from where Virgil had dropped them on the ground. She followed the baby’s pace as they made their way toward the door of the cabin.
Marigold had been truthful when she had said she was good with children, but she was realizing how cavalier she’d been about what it meant tocarefor children. This was not a Sunday picnic where she would hand out cups of lemonade and marshal a sack race. These children had lost their mother and were about to lose their surrogate. Marigold knew as well as anyone that it was hard to extend trust and affection after suffering such harsh blows. The way they’d looked with starved little eyes to their father made her want to open her heart to all of them, but could she commit to them?
Virgil hadn’t been as forthcoming as he could have been. His letter to Pearl had left her sister convinced he was a “gold baron” who would provide her a very comfortable life.
Instead, Marigold suspected her cookstove was that smoldering fire with three saplings tented over it and a covered pot tucked into the coals beneath it. The water pump was a worn path from the empty bucket by the door down to the edge of the stream. And goodness, wasn’t the cabin cheerfully bright with all thesegaping cracksbetween the logs? How wonderful to be able to see so clearly how small and primitive the single room really was.
There were two beds built at angles to each other in the back corner. Judging by the number of scattered blankets and the rail on the wider, bottom one, it belonged to the children. There was a bench secured to the wall closer to the door. It had a narrow table set before it. No fireplace. The only heat was the warmth of the sun coming through the single window and the south-facing door.
Leyohna showed her the crate beneath the lower bed where folded clothing was kept. Three rows of shelves hammered into the wall cracks were the pantry. It was stocked with dried beans, oats, cans of corn and peaches, and one tin of evaporated milk. Alongside those were a few small baskets that appeared to be woven from some type of inner tree bark. They had lids perfectly sized to seal them and were filled with fragrant needles, herbs, dried mushrooms, and ground roots.
Nettie translated for Leyohna as she explained which were used for cooking and which had medicinal properties. She tapped her head and her swollen belly to indicate headache and monthly cramps. Marigold could have hugged her. She always felt as though her stomach was made of knives when her menses came on.
Nettie nodded that she could show her where to collect more if it ran out.
Leyohna then went to tell her family that they could begin preparing to leave the valley.
Marigold smiled bravely, but self-doubt washed over her like storm waves on the ocean. She was starting to feel as distressed by Leyohna’s departure as Nettie looked.
Marigold picked up the whittled cow and horse and dog and pig from the floor and made a little vignette of them on the bench.
Harley promptly toddled across to knock them all down again.
“He always does that,” Nettie said heavily. “No, I don’t want to play right now,” she added when Harley tried to give her the horse. She flopped onto the lower bed.
Marigold sank onto the bench and set all the animals beside her so Harley could bat them down with the horse.
“I’m sorry you lost your mother, Nettie. I was about Levi’s age when my parents died. My younger sister was your age. I remember how angry I felt when our uncle sent us to school in Philadelphia, not giving us any say in what happened to us.”
“Myuncle sent ushere.”
“Oh? I presumed your mother brought you.”
“No. She died of fever, and Auntie said she would write to Albert to see if he would come back for us, but Uncle said he wouldn’t and that we had to go live with Papa. He doesn’t evenlikeus.”
