The Oregon Trail Series Short Stories by Laura Stapleton

Author:Laura Stapleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, romance fiction, romance historical, historical fiction romance, romance western, romance 1800s
Publisher: Laura Stapleton

Daggart checked the weight of his little bag of gold. Almost full and he was still finding flecks and small nuggets. He shivered. Looking up at the surrounding hills, he realized the setting sun had put the small valley into the shadows. Darn shame the day ended so soon. He climbed up out of the river and slid the little bag into his pocket.

After a quick search, Daggart found Muley grazing over the ridge. Time to start his nightly ritual at the saloon. He hopped onto his mule and headed to town. Out of the valley, the shadows inched their way across the land in front of him, spreading east as the sun set.

The skyline of town, such that it was, approached and he grinned. He could almost hear the saloon music from here. Pondering over what to do first, he drew up a mental list. He could go ahead and do his usual gambling and drinking with the gold he’d found, trusting Miss Mary to buy his soap. Or, he could buy some himself and maybe a few decent clothes for the baptism. Then he’d feel good about drinking and gambling the rest away.

He shook his head, wondering how he’d been roped into agreeing to this anyway. One look at the deep blue of the twilight sky above the town and he had the answer. Miss Mary’s blue eyes could probably convince him of doing anything, when not full of fire and brimstone, that is. He led Muley past the saloon to the dry goods store. The effort didn’t hurt either of them with both places sharing a wall between them. Daggart dismounted and went into the store, open at all hours for miners who worked until dark. “Howdy, Pierre. I got some gold for ya today.”

“Good! Bring it over and I’ll see how much you damage my wallet.”

Daggart did as his friend suggested, giving him the little bag of gold. Another cloth sack, a duplicate of what Pierre held, rested in his pocket as a nest egg. Most times he ignored it. If he treated each day’s gold as the only he had, the metal he hoarded would be some sort of savings account.

Pierre took the bag he held by the bottom, emptying the contents onto the scale and weighing it. He then marked down the number onto a small card with Daggart’s name on it. Pierre whistled before saying, “I see you’ve found a new vein. Your digs are getting better, aren’t they?”

“Yep, almost as good as before. I’ll need real luck to find another site like last time.” He watched as the shopkeeper counted out the bills to him.

Pierre nodded, closing up his safe with the gold tucked inside. “I could probably spare giving you a free rabbit’s foot for luck. You made us both a lot of money.”

He laughed, thinking of all the gambling and drinking he’d done last time a series of digs gave him good results. “Yeah, I’d like that to happen again.”

“Mr. Bartlett?”

Daggart turned to see Miss Mary behind him.

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