The Sheriff - Nan Ryan

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then turned away. She’d see to making the room livable later.

      First things first.

      By noon she was back in town to visit the Federal Land Office. When she stepped down into the street, she encountered a dirty, drunken man weaving dizzily toward her. Kate shook her finger in his face and warned him off, threatening him within an inch of his life. The drunk anxiously backed away.

      Chin raised, Kate stepped past him and into the land office. Deed in hand, she introduced herself and handed the document to the balding clerk. He studied it for only a minute. Then he looked up and shook his head pityingly.

      “Miss VanNam, I’m sorry you’ve traveled all this way for nothing.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “You’re wasting your time,” he informed her. “All the placer gold is gone from the stream on your property. Has been for years now.”

      “Placer gold?” she repeated, having no idea what he meant.

      “Placer. The pebbles containing particles of gold that wash down the stream from the mountains. It’s all long since been panned and sold. There is no more.”

      “No, of course not,” she said. “I knew that. But the mine…”

      “Miss VanNam, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the Cavalry Blue has been abandoned for years. All boarded up. And with good reason. There has never been a single speck of gold brought out of that mine.”

      Kate said calmly, “I know.”

      “You do?” He frowned and scratched his gleaming pate.

      “Yes. I came up on the steamer from Golden Quest with Dr. Milton Ledet. He mentioned that the Cavalry Blue has never produced any gold.”

      The man nodded.

      Shoulders squared, Kate continued, “I informed the good doctor and now I’ll tell you. The gold obviously remains inside. I will bring it out.”

      Travis got his first glimpse of Kate VanNam at noontime.

      He was alone in the front office of the city jail, doing nothing. Leaning back in his chair, booted feet propped up on his desk, hands folded behind his head. He yawned and exhaled slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet that came all too infrequently in this wild mining community.

      He looked out the window at nothing in particular and his eyes immediately widened.

      He spotted her sunlit hair, shining as brightly as the gold she sought.

      Kate VanNam.

      He knew it was her.

      Travis swore under his breath. He was instantly reminded of another golden-haired Jezebel whose memory was still vivid after all these years.

      Travis scowled as Kate encountered the weaving, drunken Zeke Daniels, but his frown quickly turned into a grudging smile when the delicate young woman shook a finger in Zeke’s liquor-veined face and rebuked him.

      Zeke backed away as if he had encountered a bobcat.

      As the sheriff studied the woman, he noted that her gleaming golden hair was not her only attribute. She was tall and appealingly slender. Her lithe, willowy body was draped in a girlish blue-and-white gingham dress with flounces and bows that made her look all too young and innocent. Her fine-boned face was exquisite, her ivory skin flawless. She was very pretty, very feminine, very desirable. She did not belong in Fortune, California.

      Six

      Map in hand, sunbonnet on her head, Kate went up into the mountains alone the very next morning and easily located the Cavalry Blue claim. The entrance was boarded up, just as she’d heard. She peered curiously through wide cracks in the weathered timber, foolishly hoping she might detect a vein of gold winking at her from deep inside the dark cavern.

      She saw nothing.

      It would take further exploration to uncover the treasure. She was undeterred. Gold was likely buried in the floor and the walls of the mine. The solid granite would have to be hammered and chiseled, and the crushed rock that fell away carefully probed and sifted and picked through. She couldn’t possibly do it by herself. She would, she realized, need to hire at least a couple of strong-backed men to work the claim. Kate returned to the mansion and decided she would wait no longer to begin the daunting task of making a home of sorts in the downstairs drawing room. For the time being, she would leave all the other rooms untouched.

      In a back room, Kate located a sofa that had once been a grand piece of furniture. Elaborate mahogany trim on the couch’s arms and high back was artistically carved. The once plush rose velvet covering was faded and torn, but the sofa was long and comfortable, ideal for a bed. She would move the heavy sofa once she’d thoroughly cleaned the drawing room.

      The sun had already reached its zenith as Kate made a short list of necessities and walked back to town. Once there, she took the opportunity to fully explore Fortune, strolling leisurely up and down Main Street.

      The bustling alpine community was spectacularly framed by the pine covered peaks of the high Sierras, and it was larger than she had realized. There were a half-dozen hotels—the Bonanza, the Eldorado, the Alpine, the Sierra, the Frontier and the Mint. There were at least twenty-five or thirty saloons. The Glitter Gulch. The Bloody Bucket. The Quartz. The Mother Lode. The Golden Nugget. The Amber Lantern. And many more.

      Fortune had five general stores, the largest of which was Barton’s Emporium and Dry Goods. She also found one doctor’s office, four banks, an elaborate two-story opera house, a stationery store, a bakery, three express offices, two barbershops, four blacksmith shops, five livery stables, three assay offices, two fire companies, two undertakers, a newspaper and a city surveyor.

      And, of course, the city jail.

      When Kate had reached the southernmost end of town she saw a large tent city that stretched for a half mile down a gentle incline. As she gazed at row upon row of small canvas shelters placed very close to each other, she wondered who was unfortunate enough to live in the tents.

      When she reached Barton’s Emporium and Dry Goods, she walked among its display tables looking at the varied merchandise while Clifton T. Barton, owner and proprietor, pointed her toward her requests. He never moved from his cane-bottomed stool behind the counter.

      A big man with droopy eyelids and large ears, Barton paid little attention to Kate as she gathered up a broom, a mop, a large pail and a coal oil lamp. She came over to place the items on the counter.

      “That it?” he asked, continuing to sit.

      “Not quite.”

      While Cliff Barton scratched his chin, Kate turned away and went in search of sheets, a blanket and a pillow.

      “All right, I guess that’s all for now,” she announced, and placed everything on the counter. She reached for her reticule. “How much do I owe you?”

      The store owner finally got off his stool and totaled up her purchases. Kate was stunned when he informed her she owed him $28.75.

      “That can’t be. You’ve surely made a mistake in addition,” she said. “These few items can’t possibly cost—”

      “Everything’s expensive up here, miss,” he interrupted. “You’re in a gold camp high in the Sierras. Everything has to be transported up from San Francisco.” He grinned then and added, “Just wait till you want to buy a mincemeat pie from Mrs. Hester down the street at her bakery. A dollar and a half is how much it’ll set you back.”

      Kate shook her head in disbelief. “I can live without mincemeat pie and…” She sighed, took the blanket and pillow from the stack of merchandise she’d chosen, and pushed both back at him. “I can sleep without a pillow. It’s almost summer, so I need no blanket.”

      “You can say that again. Gets hotter than the hell up here in the summertime.”

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