As he walked away from camp, other questions simmered in my mind.
Questions that would have to wait.
I still didn’t understand Bess’s relationship with Paddy.
Darkness was quickly falling on our camp as I started the fire and set the beans to warm over the flames. Sam hadn’t gone far. I could still hear him on the other side of the thicket, pacing. He mumbled from time to time, and at first I thought he was venting, but then I realized he was praying. I couldn’t make out all the words, but I knew he was wrestling with God, and I tried not to eavesdrop.
I’d had my own moments of wrestling that I would never want anyone else to hear. It was hard to understand why God would allow any of this to happen. Why did Bess have to leave her sonbehind? Why did Cole seem to come out on top, no matter what scenario had played out?
I wasn’t sure how much time Sam would need, so I made myself busy feeding the mules and setting up our camp. I’d never slept on the trail before and wasn’t sure where to put the bedrolls, so I left those alone.
When the beans were hot, I took them off the fire and set them aside. Sam had quieted, but I wouldn’t disturb him.
A rustling on the trail brought my head up, and a minute later, a man walked into the clearing.
“Good evening,” he said in a Southern drawl. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, miss.”
My senses heightened as he drew closer. He was a middle-aged man with thick whiskers and worn clothes, but he carried himself like a gentleman and his cultured voice suggested he was educated, though the way he looked at me put me on edge.
“I noticed your fire,” he said as he readjusted the pack on his back. “Thought I’d come on over and share a meal and some company. Didn’t expect to find a woman. Alone.”
The last word made my skin crawl.
“She’s not alone.” Sam walked up behind me, one hand on his pistol, and slipped his other hand around my waist in a protective and possessive manner.
I stiffened—not from his forward actions, which I knew were meant to send a message to the stranger, but from his touch.
Despite the arrival of the Southerner, I was very conscious of Sam’s hand.
“Well, now.” The man nodded, his entire demeanor changing. “I’m right happy to hear it. A woman could get into all kinds of trouble out here on her own.”
“So could a man.” Sam’s voice was low, sent with a warning.
The man studied him for a moment, as if he recognized Sam, but then he motioned to the fire with his head. “Mind if I join you? I haven’t had a meal with proper company in weeks.”
Sam glanced down at me for my thoughts, and when I lookedup, I realized how close we were standing. My pulse sped, and my breath caught. Something shifted in his eyes as awareness grew between us.
“Of course you can join us,” Sam said, though he didn’t take his gaze off me.
Even though I agreed, I didn’t want the stranger to interrupt us. There were still things I wanted to discuss with Sam, like why he’d been convicted of killing his brother and how Johnnie had witnessed it. I wanted to know more about Paddy and how he was involved. And now that we’d talked about Bess again, I wanted to ask Sam if he knew anything else about her other path. How far in the future had she gone? Did he have any clues?
But right now, all I could think about was Sam’s touch and how hard it was to pull away from him.
“My name is Walter Dixon,” the man said, extending his hand to Sam, “from Savannah, Georgia.”
Sam grasped Walter’s hand. “I’m from London, England, by way of the penal colony in New South Wales, Australia.”
Mr. Dixon’s eyes widened, and he became visibly nervous as he pulled his hand away and took a step back. Even though Sam hadn’t said his name, the look on Mr. Dixon’s face suggested he had suspected it was Sam and now was convinced.
“Sorry to bother you and the missus.” He tripped as he continued backward. “I was just stopping by to give a friendly warning. I don’t know if you meant to, but you’re off the beaten trail, and you’re more susceptible to bandits and thieves. Two miners were killed in their sleep just a week ago in these parts, all their gold stolen. Don’t know where you’re headed ...” He paused, as if waiting to see if we’d tell him. When we didn’t, he continued, “I’d move on as soon as you can and head back toward the river. More foot traffic there.”
I glanced at Sam, but he stared at the man, not willing to offer any information. He looked fierce and unaffected by Mr. Dixon’s warning.
“I best be getting along,” Mr. Dixon said. “I would have likedto enjoy your meal, missus, but I think I’ll take my own advice and head on over to Nicolaus’s settlement.”
“We’ll be heading there ourselves, come morning,” Sam said.
“You passed it already,” Mr. Dixon said. “It’s about a mile southwest of here.” He nodded toward the setting sun. “’Night.” He tipped the brim of his hat and then scurried out of camp, disappearing into the deepening shadows without waiting for us to respond.
