Fool's Gold: Claim Jumpers
By DFWBeast
Author's Note: This was supposed to be my main contribution to the Wine and Old Lace event. Due to real life issues, I'm late. Duh! My deepest thanks to outofshadows, kimi1990 and blackrandl1958 for their beta reading and editing. They made this into a much better read than it was. Of course, any errors are mine since I always mess with the story before I submit it!
Note: This is a period piece that takes place in the Colorado Rockies in 1885. It's set during the Colorado gold and silver rushes, and also occurs around the railroad wars of 1877-1880 in that area. Although some of the supporting characters are historical, most, including the main characters, are fictional.
I've obviously taken literary license with some of the facts, so if you're looking for complete historical accuracy, this ain't it.
Warning: This story is more like a historical mystery with the story slowly being revealed layer by layer. If you're looking for action and adventure or a lot of sex, I'd skip this one! LOL!
Also, there's lots of slang and bad grammar in this story. Some of the more uncommon historical slang terms have been listed at the end. If interested, look through them, it may make this story a more enjoyable read.
****
*
Crested Butte, Colorado
Late-Summer -- 1885
Abigail Hawthorne stood atop of the steps leading down off the train. She was immediately assaulted by the competing smells. The fresh evergreen wind off the Rockies battled with the mechanical steam odor of the train, as both mixed with the smoky haze that emanated from the small town. It only had a few hundred residents but supplied the thousand or more miners in the area.
She adjusted the bustle of her dress and tucked the small pillow she'd been sitting on under her arm. Thankfully, her dress wasn't the Victorian styled full bustle that was common back East, or the train ride would've been intolerable.
Looking down, she saw her three traveling companions staring back up at her. Two of the three were very distinct looking, compared to the townsfolk.
The first was a short thin balding man who was very well dressed and wore spectacles. Edmond Horace was a lawyer from Denver, who had been her father's attorney for the past several years. It bothered Abby that he rarely smiled, and when he did it made shivers run down her spine.
Dwarfing them and most men, as well, was the man they called the Swede. Jonas Swanson was a mountain of a man. He was almost two heads taller than Mr. Horace, and about three times as big around his chest. Abby wondered how he could find suspenders large enough to stretch over all those muscles and keep his britches up.
Besides his imposing physique, he was covered with bright blonde hair. From his long unkempt mane to his full beard to his hairy chest and arms, he reminded her of a huge golden bear.
The third man she'd recognize in any crowd. Even though he was dressed like most there in the town, Abby knew she'd recognize the way he walked and talked anywhere. He was a good looking man with black curly hair and a full black beard. His big blue eyes and outgoing personality separated him from most. Besides that, he was Abigail's husband for the past five years, Thomas Hawthorne.
"Stay close," warned her husband as he helped her down. "This is certainly no place for a lady."
'You should know,' she thought to herself as she fought back bitter comments.
She knew this was in his blood. It had been his life for more than a decade before he'd come back home. She looked into his eyes and could see the excitement he was trying to hide. It was a look that a year ago would've made her heart skip a beat, but now it was just a reminder of those things she'd given up.
'Like a moth to the flame or Icarus to the sun,'
she silently sighed
"Mrs. Hawthorne," Horace interjected, "please remain very close to us. Unfortunately, up in these parts, an attractive woman is rarer than the gold and silver these men are seeking."
"Thank you, Mr. Horace, both my husband and the Swede are packing iron and I know the Swede has his rifle close by, as well. I feel quite protected. Still, I'll be careful and stay close."
Horace nodded and turned to the Swede. "Grab our things and I'll go find this Buckman and his transport."
The big man grunted and nodded. The Swede rarely spoke. Abby always believed it was because he didn't speak much English, however he seemed to understand it very well.
Abby looked over at her husband and could see his smile partially hidden within his beard. His eyes searched the town as if he was looking for something.
"Do you really miss this?"
"What?" he replied, his face showing some surprise.
"You were looking at this place like it was your long lost lover."
"Well that's a bit dramatic, but yeah, I miss this every now and then."
"So planning on leaving again?" she hissed.
"Dammit, woman! Save your venom for someone else! Yeah, I miss this, but I'm still here ain't I? I'm still married to you and living on the ranch.
"Listen, Abby," he sighed. "I know you got your back up 'cause of this trip. I ain't looking forward to facing him, either."
Abby took a deep breath and calmed herself. She knew her husband was right. She'd been on edge for the past four months, since everything seemed to be falling apart. Now she was going to face her ex-husband and that promised to be a nightmare.
"I'm sorry, Thomas. You're right, this trip is upsetting. Things haven't been right since Sarah ran away last May. Now having to face Jeremiah again is bringing back a lot of bad memories."
"You know this meeting has to happen. As for Sarah, well, I told you I didn't do what she said I did. She's still mad about her father. I am sorry she ran away though."
"I know," Abby replied. "She never forgave us for getting married. You were drinking pretty heavy back then."
"Dammit, Abby! Not here, not now!" he snarled at her.
Abby turned away and looked over the little mining town. She forced herself not to dwell on the past several months. She remembered better times.
She'd moved to the Colorado Territory with her father, Henry Thompson, when she was only six. They'd left Pennsylvania a few months after her mother had died. It was 1860, just a few years before the Great War between the States. They'd arrived in Colorado several years after the "Pike's Peak or Bust" gold rush.
Her father wasn't searching for gold, but was seeking riches of another kind. He'd purchased a ranch that was one of three covering a small valley on the southeast base of Pike's Peak. That valley had the potential to become very valuable if the railroad ever went through.
Their ranch was adjacent to the two others in the valley, the Old Wilson place and the Hawthorne ranch. Old Man Wilson lived up to his name and seemed to have a bone to pick with just about everyone. The Hawthornes had been heaven sent. With so few other children in the area, she'd been lucky to have two that were close to her age as neighbors. Abigail had immediately befriended the two Hawthorne brothers, Thomas and Jeremiah. She was the same age as Jeremiah, and Thomas was a couple years older. The three grew up and became inseparable.
Abby smiled, thinking back to the hours and hours the three had played together after their chores were finished. Even back then the brothers were polar opposites. When they were out playing Jeremiah always had to be the lawman, while Thomas was the outlaw. She'd always played the damsel in distress or the princess.