A Home Of Her Own. Keli Gwyn

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СКАЧАТЬ long to feel comfortable. She kept a watchful eye on the road ahead.

      The California countryside with its abundant trees and wildlife was much different than Chicago. She flinched when a bright blue bird Mutti said was a Steller’s jay let out a scratchy, scolding call and chuckled when a squirrel frolicked in the crowns of nearby oaks.

      A flash of something brown caught Becky’s eye. The dog she’d befriended earlier bounded toward the wagon. His gleeful bark startled a flock of wild turkeys. The ungainly birds bolted from the underbrush, zigzagging their way across the clearing and into the road, screeching loudly.

      The horses reared and took off running. Becky’s heart galloped along with them. She gripped the reins so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Hold on!”

      Mutti clutched the edge of the seat as they went around a hairpin turn and gasped as the wagon rose up on two wheels.

      Becky’s mouth went dry. The wagon wheels returned to the earth with a jarring thud. Bracing her boots against the footboard, she held the reins taut and prayed the team would slow before the next turn.

      Gradually, the startled animals returned to a walk. Thank you, Lord. She spun to face Mutti. “Are you all right?”

      “Yes. Just a bit shaken up, but I’ll be fine.”

      “Good. For a minute there I wasn’t sure how things were going to turn out. I’d better see to the team.” She pulled to a stop, handed the reins to Mutti and climbed down. Using slow, soothing strokes, she patted the horses’ broad faces.

      Once she was convinced they were over the worst of their fright and that there was no apparent damage to the wagon, she looked for the dog, but he was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t fault him for upsetting the horses. From her place on the wagon seat, it had been clear he was chasing after her and not the flighty flock.

      She returned to the wagon, and they set out again.

      Mutti patted her arm. “You handled that well. I’ll tell James you make a fine driver.”

      The rest of the drive to Diamond Springs went smoothly. At Mutti’s request, Becky stopped at the butcher shop. She’d been wedged between Jessie and Callie when they’d passed through the town on their way to Placerville and hadn’t seen much from the stagecoach.

      A handful of shops lined both sides of the wide, rutted road. She recognized Harris’s general store, where the coach had stopped to pick up a passenger on their way through town. Tantalizing scents wafted from the restaurant at the Washington House hotel nearby. “So this is Diamond Springs. There’s not much to it, is there?”

      “It might be small, but it has the basic necessities. The people are friendly. My William and I liked it here. That’s why we stayed. James liked it, too, but Katharina couldn’t wait to grow up and move to the city. My girl lives in a fancy house in San Francisco with her lawyer husband, Artie, and their five-year-old daughter, Lottie. We don’t see much of them.”

      Mutti gazed into the distance with a faraway expression on her face. “James went away, too, but he came back after the terrible accident that nearly took him from us. He was with me when William died two years ago and has been here ever since. I don’t know what I’d have done without him. I couldn’t manage the orchard on my own.”

      As much as Becky wanted to ask what kind of accident and if it had caused Mr. O’Brien’s scar, it wasn’t her place to pry. “Was the town always so small?”

      “It’s always been pretty much a one-street town, but when we arrived in ’54 it was busier. A lot more mining was going on then. There are only nine hundred or so in Diamond Springs Township now.”

      What would it have been like to grow up in a place like this? To look into the distance and see nothing but rolling hills and the distant Sierras beyond instead of buildings? To breathe fresh air instead of inhaling the smoke belching from the ever-increasing number of factories in Chicago, like the small one where she and Dillon had worked?

      A newcomer would stand out here, though. She’d have to be mindful of that. The less people knew about her, the better. If Dillon was to show up, she wouldn’t want to make it easy for him to find her. Not that he would, but she couldn’t shake the fear that made her want to look over her shoulder whenever she heard a man with an Irish accent. She was mighty glad Mr. O’Brien didn’t have one.

      “I should pick up your order. I’ll just be a minute.”

      Becky returned from the butcher shop a short time later, stowed the meaty-smelling package in a crate behind the seat and climbed aboard.

      Mutti directed her to a road heading south. “It’s only half a mile or so, and it’s flat from here. I can’t wait until you see the orchard in bloom. It’s a sight to behold.”

      “What kind of trees are they?”

      “Apple. There are five different varieties, and James plans to add another next year.” Sadness clouded Mutti’s blue eyes, as though she realized she wouldn’t live to see that day. She brightened quickly. “My boy isn’t content to leave things as they are. He’s always seeking ways to improve the orchard and make tasks easier. He figured out a way to give me running water in the kitchen.”

      “Running water? I can’t imagine having such a thing.”

      “I know he can seem a bit gruff at times, but he really is a fine man. You’ll see.”

      Since Becky didn’t know how to respond, having only her initial impression to go on, she kept quiet.

      Before long they approached rows of trees crowned with pink and white blossoms. “How beautiful!”

      Mutti patted her arm. “I knew you’d like them.”

      “This is your orchard? It’s wonderful. The bees like it, too. I can hear them buzzing from here. And the fragrance...” She inhaled deeply. “It’s delightful.”

      Pride shone in Mutti’s eyes. “William started the orchard when we first arrived. James helped until he left for college, but my boy’s the boss now. He hired Quon and Chung Lee to help him. He met the brothers while he worked on the railroad.”

      “They’re Chinese?” She’d never met anyone from China before, although she’d walked past two Chinese men working at a laundry in Placerville. They wore unusual clothing—loose-fitting, hip-length tunics, flowing trousers and pointed wicker hats. What she’d found most interesting were their long black braids and lovely singsong way of speaking.

      “They are. They’re hard workers just like James and are fiercely loyal to him. He thinks the world of them.”

      “Will I be cooking for them, too?”

      “No. They live in one of the two cabins beyond the barn and get their own meals. Get ready for another turn.” Mutti pointed to a wooden sign bearing the name O’Brien Orchard. “That road ahead is ours.”

      Becky led the team down a narrow lane to their left, with the O’Brien’s property on the north and an oak-studded field on the south. Before long there was a break in the apple trees. A house came into view, a darling place with white clapboard siding and a redbrick chimney. Green shutters with hearts cut out of the centers hung at every window.

      She СКАЧАТЬ