When she told him, he wanted to kick himself. Almost all his money was now in Mrs.Webb’s pockets. “I’m afraid Isaac and I will have to stay here after all.”
She eyed him curiously before speaking. “I owe you and Isaac for your work at the hotel.”
“We haven’t made nearly enough to purchase tickets.”
“You can pay me the rest later.”
He didn’t want to take a loan, yet he needed to find Judah. And if someone was trying to harm Isabelle, he could protect her as well.
“I’ll find work in Columbia, whether or not it’s with Judah,” he said. “When does the stagecoach leave?”
“At ten.”
“If the hotel is still standing, I’ll have to retrieve my things.”
There was strength in her smile this time. “Isaac carried your things here.”
He returned her smile. “Perhaps he’s my guardian as well.”
Part Three
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
Psalm 91:1
Chapter 36
Sierra Foothills
August 1854
Aflock of silvery birds crested beside their stagecoach and then glided back down toward a lake in the valley, the water glistening like gold in the afternoon sunlight. Yesterday, the stagecoach had rumbled across a plain composed of scrub oaks and channels of river. Then it began to climb up into the foothills west of the Sierra Nevada.
The smoke from Sacramento’s fire was far behind them now, though they’d seen the black smoke from several camps in the hills. The trail of fire, their driver called this rock-studded road.
In the distance, Isabelle could see the jagged Sierras, each peak still dusted with snow. The town of Columbia lay somewhere below these mountains, at the edge of a wall that no stagecoach could climb.
The indigo ripples beyond them reminded her of the sea billowing and crashing in a storm. It seemed impossible to travel through these foothills by coach, but as their party jostled up and down this narrow road, the two miners who’d joined them said they’d taken this route many times. They’d arrived safely to their destination each time—only once had they been robbed. They said this with pride, as if they’d somehow cheated fate.
There was no Rodney out here in the wilderness to deter bandits from relieving stagecoaches of their gold, though the revolvers the two miners carried along with the driver’s double-barreled shotgun might send them running. While her luggage was belted onto the top of the coach, she’d packed the iron lockbox with her gold coins and Aunt Emeline’s gift in a valise made of tapestry and tucked it securely under her skirt.
While Alden attempted to read a book on the bench beside her, Isaac’s nose was pressed against the dusty glass. This morning he’d watched the fog pooling on the valley floor, and once it lifted, he’d counted the clouds flitting past them in the wind. Now he was searching for bear or wildcats in the fir trees, neither of which she hoped he’d find.
Outside her window were clusters of wild peas and blooms of mustard, weaving threads of lavender and yellow between the trees. For three years, she’d heard the stories about the mining towns from her guests, earning her living from people seeking the gold hidden in quartz veins at the base of the Sierras, but she’d never once visited the interior.
What would it be like to live in this wilderness, so far from the elegance in her hotel?
She never expected to leave Sacramento City, but now that Victor had found her trail, she could never go back to the place that had become home. An image of a bloodhound flashed into her mind, its tail curled up, droopy ears sweeping the ground.
Victor could spend his days in the remains of the city if he wanted, his hunting nose to the ground, but he wouldn’t find her. She hadn’t left a trace of her whereabouts or even told Sing Ye where she had gone.
Her one regret when they’d left was not saying good-bye to Sing Ye, but it wouldn’t take Victor long to knock on the cottage door. Better for Nicolas and Sing Ye to tell him that she’d simply disappeared.
There was freedom ahead for her now. An opportunity to start over again on her own. She had the resources to buy a new hotel if she wanted or tuck herself away in hiding until she journeyed up to Vancouver Island on her own.
“You’ll like Columbia,” the miner named Samuel told them. “They’re digging out thousands of dollars’ worth of gold each week, and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down.”
