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Chapter Eight
The Fenstermacher brothers were in no hurry to leave. After everyone, including Maddie, Cole noted, ate until they couldn’t take another bite that afternoon, they let their food settle with a hearty round of conversation that included the brothers sharing they were from North Dakota, where four more brothers and seven sisters lived. Then, with everyone working together, they’d built a dam out of the rocks Maddie had gathered as well as several more, and set the sluice box into the stream.
With Maddie directing exactly where to dig, Cole, along with Whiskey Jack and the brothers, carried shovelful after shovelful over and dumped them into the Long Tom. Cole was amazed, as were the other men, that Maddie knew what to do. She kept a watchful eye on the sluice box, making sure the riffles weren’t clogging or the material building up on the edges, as she judged the flow of water by slightly adjusting the box or the rocks that created the dam.
When she announced they’d run enough dirt, Abe helped Cole lift the box out of the water and remove the riffles. Maddie had insisted she’d roll up the blanket and furs, since she knew how, but did let him help her set them into the tub of water she’d made ready.
She then rinsed out the blanket and fur like a washwoman well versed in her duties and scooped the water out of the tub, until little more than an inch covered the sand and grit in the bottom.
Even Homer went silent at the amount of gold glittering in the tub.
Cole wasn’t sure if he was the first one to let out a whoop, but he was the one who gathered Maddie into his arms and swung her around like a kid in a play yard. He kissed her, too, smack on the lips not caring they were surrounded by others.
“We gotta build us one of those,” Tim shouted, his loud voice roaring above everyone’s laughter and shouts of glee.
Whiskey Jack broke out a bottle then—which was how he’d gotten his name years before—and passed it around.
“Should we put that box back in the water?” one of the brothers asked.
Cole was too busy holding Maddie to know which one, other than he knew it hadn’t been Tim. He’d even forgone a chug on Whiskey Jack’s bottle, not willing to let Maddie loose. “No,” he answered when she opened her mouth. “It’s getting late.”
Disappointment flashed in her eyes even as she said, “I have to process what we found.”
“Well, then, I’ll warm up the food. So we can eat again,” Albert said.
With everyone else in agreement, Cole chose not to argue, and other than setting the camp in order for the night, he sat near the fire talking with the other men.
“How’d you fare, girl?” Whiskey Jack asked when Maddie finally exited the tent.
“It’s good gold” was all she said.
“Good gold,” Homer squawked, and Cole used the bird’s diversion—the Germans were quite smitten with the macaw—to move next to Maddie and drop an arm around her shoulders.
“Well, I’m ready to call it a day,” he said. “How about the rest of you?”
Summer was about at its peak, with the sun not setting at all, and Maddie glanced toward the sky as she said, “We could run one mor—”
“No,” he interrupted, “we can’t. Or won’t. It’ll be here tomorrow.” Though he knew it would be dangerous to be alone with her, he wanted just that. “It’s late and it’s been a long day.”
She agreed with a nod, though somewhat solemnly.
“There’s a kettle of warm water on the fire,” he said. “I’ll get it for you.”
“I’ll get it,” she answered. Before doing so, she bid the others good-night and thanked them for the meal and their help. Incredibly, she seemed sincere, too, as if being neighborly wasn’t as horrifying as she’d expected.
When she entered the tent, Cole said goodbye to Whiskey Jack and Homer and then assisted the Germans in loading their boat with the array of pots, kettles and tools they’d carted over and gave them a shove, setting the boat across the river.
He stirred down the fire and wasted a few more minutes washing up at the edge of the river, all the while questioning how miserable the cravings inside him had become due to the fact he knew he couldn’t act upon them.
Lucky’s resignation flared inside him as he flung his towel down on the tree branch. Maddie was worse than any woman he’d ever known, the way she’d weaseled her way right into his life. They had to come to some sort of understanding. One they both could agree upon. Living with her and not touching her couldn’t keep happening. It was blocking his focus. He wasn’t convinced a real marriage was what he wanted, but there had to be a happy medium.
