When I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, hismuscles stiffened. He lowered me to my feet, but his hands didn’t drop away from my waist—and I didn’t pull away from him, either.
“For this night, at least,” he said, “it can be ours alone.”
Every nerve in my body thrummed with awareness. It had been this way for the past three days, this palpable tension, strung between us like a cord ready to snap. Sam didn’t have to say anything to make me aware of his attraction—his eyes, and his behavior, said it all.
Butterflies filled my stomach as he continued to hold me, and I wondered not for the first time if the tension would snap. Would he try to kiss me—and would I let him?
As those thoughts filled my head, something shifted in his eyes. It was almost as if a candle was extinguished. One moment desire was burning bright, and the next, it was gone.
He let go of my waist and took a step back, clearing his throat. “Tomorrow we’ll head up river a bit and see what we can find. When we get camp set up, I’ll show you how to make hasty pudding for supper.”
Without another word, he began to unload his pack.
I stood for a moment, confused and uncertain. I wanted to ask what was going through his mind, but I was too afraid. Now wasn’t the time to discuss whatever was passing between us. We were alone on the Yuba River, without anyone around for miles.
Once we had our fire going, Sam filled a kettle with water and put it over the flames. He took a small sack of cornmeal and a bag of salt out of his saddlebag. “Hasty pudding is easy. Once the water is boiling, we’ll add about a teaspoon of salt and a cup of cornmeal, slowly, stirring it constantly. We’ll let it boil for twenty or thirty minutes until it’s thick.”
He put a lid on the kettle, and with little else to do until the water boiled, I sat on my bedroll, enjoying the opportunity to just watch him. All around, nature seemed unhurried and unbothered by our arrival. The river, the birds, and the squirrels scampered through the pine-tree forest. The sun was now behind the horizon, and beautiful colors streaked the sky. I lifted my face to savor it all.
“The jury was going to let me go.”
“What?” I lowered my gaze and found him watching the kettle.
“The jury—when they tried me for Alfred’s murder. They determined it was done in self-defense. They were going to let me go, but my father knew the judge, and he told him to send me to Australia.”
It was an appalling thought, causing me to sit up straight. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I never fit the mold. I hated anything and everything to do with banking. Alfred was his pride and joy. He had followed in Father’s footsteps and was working at Barclay’s with him. I even think Father was behind the plan to trap Bess into a marriage. Her father was a prominent member of Parliament, and I’m certain Father saw Bess as a better match for Alfred and his ambitions.”
I pulled my knees up and hugged them as I listened.
“When it looked like the jury was going to acquit me, Father spoke to the judge and told him he wanted me gone. He blamed me for Alfred’s death and wanted me to suffer. I wouldn’t be surprised if he paid the judge to do it.”
“How do you know he spoke to him?”
Sam lifted his brown-eyed gaze. “Father told me.” Sadness, anger, and bitterness permeated his words. “I was found guilty, but under the circumstances, the judge didn’t want to sentence me to death. Instead, he sent me to the penal colony and instructed that I would bear the brand on my thumb instead of my cheek. He must have lived with the guilt, because two years later, after I had been in Australia, suffering unimaginable abuse, I was given a ticket of leave and a letter from the judge, telling me that my father had died.”
“Did you return to London?”
“There was nothing for me there. Bess and Johnnie were in New York, so I came to America. And then we heard about the opportunity in San Francisco. The farther we could get from London, the better.” He scoffed. “Turns out, my past followed me here.”
“How?”
“English Jim and all the others.”
“Would you have come had you known?”
“No. But once we were here and I realized how much money we could make, it didn’t pay to leave. I still believe it’s the best place for opportunity right now. Much better than New York.”
I put my chin on my knees as I said, “I can see now why you don’t like banks.”
A sad smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Or chasing wealth.”
“Sorry that I dragged you out here.”
“You have an unselfish motive. From the moment I met you, I could see the fire and determination in your eyes, and I admire you for doing what you must to make a better life for your father and Hazel.”
His compliment embarrassed me for some reason, so I changed the subject. “What about your mother? Is she still alive?”
