Free Deep Trouble by Mary Connealy

ready to keel over.
    He didn’t bother to mention any of his impressions because they had to move out whether she felt good or not. “Okay, let’s eat quick, and I’ll take you into the nearest town. I can give you enough money to take the stage to the nearest train, and I’ll make sure you have enough to buy a ticket home to St. Louis.”
    Gabe had thought it through carefully. He could afford this, and she was helpless. Giving her money to solve her problems was the exact right thing to do. It felt generous and wise and heroic. He waited for her to thank him. Maybe hug him again. He was especially waiting for that.
    “Nonsense. I’m not going home.”
    His smile faded. “Why not?” Then he was sorry he asked, because why ask a question if you don’t want to know the answer?
    “You said last night you’re free for the rest of the summer, right?” She squared her shoulders and turned that pretty, phony smile even brighter. It didn’t look even close to natural.
    “Not free exactly. My family is expecting me sooner or later. I didn’t tell ‘em exactly when I’d show up, but—”
    “I don’t have any money with me, but I have funds available to me back home. I think you should help me find the next city. The one that’s
really
made of gold.”
    Gabe wished so hard he could believe her. He’d like to find a city of gold. Who wouldn’t? But Gabe had lived with reality just a little too long. He’d lived in the Blue Ridge Mountains growing up, and they got by just barely if Pa and Ma and his six brothers and he worked hard every day. They lived on food from their garden, milk from their cow, eggs from their chickens, and all the meat they could hunt. Then he’d joined the cavalry, and army life almost ground a man up and left him for dust. There was no time for dreaming of cities of gold.
    He’d even been to a mining town. It was a blight on the face of the earth. Greed and filth. Brutal work, and if a gold strike did turn up, it had to be dug out of the ground with hours and days and weeks of backbreaking labor. Then a man had to fight to hold on to it with knives and guns and ruthless strength.
    It came down to Gabe being a realist. “Shannon, I know you want to prove that your father’s work was worthwhile, but—”
    “You’re not doing anything anyway, Gabe.” Her smile vanished, and she grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands. Her desperation was actually a nice change from the phony smile. “Why not come with me? We can find someone to travel along. An older woman maybe who’s interested in heading west. Maybe a husband and wife. Then the trip would be… proper for us. Together. You can hunt for food. We don’t have to spend a lot of money to travel. We’ll live off the land while we follow my map to the next stopping point. Those folks took my money, but I have more. I could pay you enough to buy a nice herd, get your ranch off to a solid start.”
    It was quite a speech. “You been practicing that for long?” With a sheepish shrug, Shannon nodded. “Most of the night.” Which might explain why she looked as if she’d gotten next to no sleep. “No. I’m not going on your treasure hunt, Shannon. The closest town east is—”
    “You might as well take me to the closest town west.” Shannon crossed her arms and turned into the very picture of beautiful stubborn womanhood. “Because I’m heading west.” “Now, there’s no sense getting riled.”
    Her eyes could just as well have been flaming arrows shot from an Apache’s bow. “I’m not riled.”
    She didn’t
sound
riled. She sounded calm. Insanely calm. “There’s nothing to the west for a hundred miles. You—”
    “I’m going west, Gabe.” She cut him off. “I’m afraid, and I wish very much you’d come along because I have no way to care for myself, but if you won’t come, then please point me in the direction of the nearest town. We can part company now. I appreciate all you’ve done—”
    “You know