CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) by Cynthia Hickey

outside for a moment? I have a need for some fresh air.”
    “Certainly.”
    Charity nodded and brushed past Mabel. Outside, she quickened her pace and marched past the barn and corral and into a stand of aspens. Once there, she collapsed with a flutter of her skirts and covered her face. Mabel could pray as long and as hard as she wanted, but Charity intended to only do what was required of her as Gabriel’s wife. God might choose to help some people, but He didn’t choose to help Charity.
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    Gabriel praised God he’d cut extra pine planks for flooring as he nailed the last one into place for his new house. Having the foresight to do so sped up the building process. With the foundation complete, he could start hammering boards into place for rooms. He’d spend as many days of the winter as he could in the barn building furniture. Things were finally heading in the direction he wanted them to go.
    He glanced in the direction of the Stoltz farm, too far for him to see, yet he still searched for a woman with hair the color of ripe strawberries. It had been unsettling the last few nights, knowing she didn’t sleep on her side of the quilt. No gentle snores or rustling of blankets. Sam and Meg did their chores, but without laughter. Even the kitten failed to elicit shouts of glee from them .
    A dust devil rose, towering over the plains. If they didn’t get rain soon, they’d lose their crops and some of the livestock. The creek was getting low , and the grass turning brown . Even the aspens looked as if they labored under the sun.
                  Sam handed him a dipper of water. “When’s Ma coming home? You said she was away learning to cook, right? I’m tired of the same old thing every night.”
                  Gabriel took a long drink then dumped the rest over his head. “We’re picking her up in the morning.”
                  “I’m going to go pick some wildflowers.” Sam tore toward the creek.
                  Gab e smiled. If there were any flowers left, the creek would most likely be the only place around to find them.
                  “Pa?” Meg stopped in front of him, holding the kitten like it was a baby. Maybe Charity was right. The children needed a toy or two. It was something for Gabe to think about for Christmas instead of the usual fruit and nuts and the occasional new item of clothing.
                  “What do you need, Meg?”
                  “I miss Ma.” Tears shimmered in her dark eyes. “I don’t like being the only girl here.”
                  “You were the only girl for a good long while .” Gabe pocketed the last of his nails and stood, popping the kinks from his back.
                  “But not anymore!” Meg glowered up at him, squeezing the kitten hard enough to elicit a yeow from the poor animal.
                  “Charity will be back in the morning.” How would the children react when Charity left in the spring? One stupid wager left Gabe’s life hanging upside down . A n impulsive offer to a beautiful woman set it to spinning, and he had no idea how to set it right.
                  He stared at his daughter’s face. Meg would never forgive him. Tears ran down her cheeks in silent suffering. Gabe sighed. “Get your brother. We’ll fetch your ma now.”
    ###
                  Charity crossed her arms and stared over the prairie. The sun brushed the top of the mountains with indigo and purple. A slight breeze ruffled the dry grass and carried with it the faint scent of honeysuckle.
                  A cloud of dust hovered on the horizon. Most likely another infernal dust devil invited to stay by the lack of rain.
                  Mabel had stuffed Charity’s head as full of womanly knowledge as she could in a week’s time. Confident with the skills she’d learned, Charity would head home in the