“But what if I went to the Yuba River and brought gold back to San Francisco? I could keep some of it for Father and Hazel and put the other in a safety-deposit box at the Wells Fargo Bank. It’s still in the same location today, isn’t it? I see it advertised all the time.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Mama said. “It would never work. I’ve heard stories about life on those rivers. Besides, your father in 1849 isn’t well enough to go.”
“But I am.” My mind was spinning with the possibilities. “I could go. I don’t need Father’s help.”
“You can’t go alone.” She shook her head. “It’s out of the question.”
Papa was silent as he contemplated my idea.
“What if I brought someone with me?” As I thought through my options, my hope began to deflate. The only person I knew was Sam, but he couldn’t leave his restaurant and hotel for several weeks. And it wouldn’t be smart to travel to the Yuba River alone with him. He had done nothing to hurt or threaten me in any way, but people might talk if we went alone together. Not people inSydney Town, but up on the hill, where he hoped to one day run a respectable establishment.
Was the risk worth the reward, though? More importantly, would he consider going after gold with me?
“Who would you bring with you?” Mama asked and then held up her hand. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a foolish notion, Ally. I don’t want you to risk your other life there to try to help us here.”
“The history book claims I’ll still be alive to die in a fire on November 3rd, so apparently I won’t be killed in the goldfields.”
“What do you mean, die in a fire?” Papa frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Perhaps you won’t die in the goldfields because you never go,” Mama countered. “And that logic is preposterous. You don’t even know if the history book is true. There are so many variables.”
Papa sat up straighter. “I’m confused. Ally is supposed to die in a fire on November 3rd, 1849?”
“She’s also supposed to marry a convicted murderer,” Mama said, patting his hand, “but that’s ridiculous, as well.”
“What?” Papa frowned as he looked between us.
“I’ll explain later, Grant.” Mama brushed aside his concern. “The issue at hand is trying to convince our daughter not to be foolish enough to go for gold.”
“I don’t think it’s foolish.” Papa turned to me. “You’re smart, capable, and courageous, Ally. There are other women who went mining for gold, some of them alone. If they could do it, I don’t see why you couldn’t.”
“It’s not a good idea, Grant.” Mama looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “And even if she tried, there’s no guarantee that she’d make enough money to help us.”
“There’s no harm in trying.” Papa continued to study me. “If you can find someone to take you, that would be the best option.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Mama put her hand on his arm to make him look at her.
He finally met her gaze. “Tacy, are you telling me that if your parents had told you not to stand up to the Puritans in the 1600s,you’d have listened? Or, after you were hanged there, if your mother in 1888 had told you not to come to California, you would have obeyed? You came out here, all by yourself, on a train. You didn’t know a single person and had no job. It was still the Wild West, but you had a dream, and you wouldn’t let anyone stop you. How, then, can you tell your daughter not to go after something she wants?”
“I wish they had told me not to do those things.” Mama sighed. “But I probably wouldn’t have listened. And if I had, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now with my daughter, trying to talk some sense into her.”
“I don’t want to go alone,” I assured her, “but I don’t have anyone who could go with me except Sam.”
“If you go,” Papa said, taking my hand in his, “don’t go for me or Bennett Studios. Go for yourself. Go because you were drawn to San Francisco and the gold rush and if you don’t see it through, you’ll always wonder. I will find a way out of my own mess, because despite what I feel, I know deep inside that God hears me and sees me. He will not leave us or forsake us. I don’t need you to find gold to save our company. If you want to go, do it for yourself.”
“I still don’t like it.” Mama crossed her arms. “And I’ll be worried about you the whole time you’re there.”
“You’ll still see me here every day, even if I go to the Yuba River in 1849.”
“That won’t stop me from worrying. What happens to you in 1849 affects who you are in 1929, and vice versa. If you’re hurt or, God forbid, attacked, that will have mental and emotional ramifications on both of your lives. I still carry scars from my life in the 1600s. Because, despite what I always tell you, to keep your two lives separate is almost impossible.”
I was well aware. Thoughts of Sam seemed to follow me no matter which path I was in.
The hall clock struck half past eight. Spencer was now thirty minutes late.
“Be careful and wise, Ally,” Mama said. “That’s all I ask.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t make any promises. In either path.
