Chapter 10

Preston went out the back door. He didn't want to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him jump at the old man's bark. But jumping, Preston was. He couldn't get out of this house fast enough.

Father hadn't always been a tyrant, but even before Preston left for Boston, the man had become louder and meaner. He feared for his mother. Father wasn't the caring man he remembered as a young boy.

It had all changed with the feud. What had destroyed the Chadwick-Burnett partnership? As far as Preston knew, his sisters and brothers didn't know the cause either. From what he could tell, Millie didn't know.

Preston went to the barn and saw the men fighting with Frazer. The horse was a tall, rank thoroughbred that Father loved and everyone else hated. The blood-red animal was as obnoxious as Jeremiah Chadwick himself. No wonder his father loved the horse.

"Got him saddled?" Preston called out.

Alfred shook his head. "It will be a minute. I would suggest taking Midnight Song instead of Frazer."

"Let's do it. I don't want to fight that beast all the way to the mine and back. I'd feel safer with Midnight." He pulled a lead rope from the side of the barn and went in to get the mare. He didn't doubt he could have her saddled before they returned Frazer to his stall.

Preston helped saddle Midnight and pondered on Father's insistence that he ride Frazer. Before he left for Boston, Father had pushed him to ride the horse. The animal had gone into a wild run and nearly cost Preston his life.

"You need to be a man." Father had yelled at him. Ernst stayed away from the horse, and Mother wouldn't allow the girls or Frank to get near him. Father mastered the wild stallion. For Father, the horse was spirited but controlled.

Midnight Song was Mother's horse. She was as calm and proper as Mother. Preston was sure Father would rail at him for choosing a woman's horse. Father wanted his sons to be forceful men like himself. Of his three sons, Preston would have to say that Frank resembled Father the most.

Ernst lived under Father's shadow, so it was hard to see where he started and where Father ended. But he had a kinder heart and was a good husband to Gianna. He would never go against Father's wishes. Ernst had mother's light brown hair, green eyes, and gentle disposition.

Preston had to admit he looked like a mixture of his parents. He had his mother's light brown hair and his father's blue eyes. Preston felt as if he was more like their mother. She was wise and strong but quiet. He never fought with Father. Neither did Ernst. Frank, from little on, was the one to challenge Jeremiah Chadwick.

Frank was a copy of Father. He was tall and muscular, with Father's black hair and blue-gray eyes, but he was his own man. It didn't matter if it was to refuse to eat the peas on his plate, do his schoolwork, or what horse he would ride. Frank stood his ground and usually ended up in the woodshed with Father. Preston laughed as he remembered Frank returning to the house, rubbing his tail end but with a satisfied grin. Frank was twenty now. A man in his own right.

As Preston rode toward the mine, he wondered if Frank had even told Father what he was doing. Mother said Frank stayed on the hard side of town with some friends, and they rarely saw him.

The air grew colder. Looking into the sky, Preston saw clouds that promised more snow. He was going to have to make sure he left the mine by early morning at the latest. If he hurried, he could make it back tonight. He patted the horse and sighed. Father had been right. He should have ridden Frazer.

Preston disliked that side of himself. The part that opted for the safe outcome instead of the adventure. Maybe that was what Father saw in him that was missing. The inability to take a risk. Even going to Boston had been a soft decision. He'd stayed with a friend of his mother's family until school had started.

He had to admit that when Father wanted something, he went after it and let nothing get in his way. Even Mother had the quality. Maybe his life had been too soft. He could hardly remember a time when they didn't have money.

Father and Raul Burnett had struck it rich when Preston was ten. Before the strike, they'd lived in a cabin in the mountains. Funny, as Preston thought back, those were some of the best times.

Father was home in the evenings and would play with them. When he could, he took the boys out to hunt. Frank was born after they'd struck it rich and knew only the mansion. Maybe that was where his rebellion came from. He only knew easy times. No frosty nights huddled together to fight back the vicious winter chill. No days when they had little to eat, and Father had to use pebbles in his shotgun to get food. Frank never had to fish in the stream to catch dinner.

He ushered Midnight up the trail. She was a good horse, but Preston could see climbing the mountain trail was wearing her out. There was no way he could ask the mare to go home today. What a fool he'd been. Frazer would have been halfway up the mountain by now and not even breathing hard.

The wind grew stronger. Preston drew the coat tight around him and adjusted his scarf to cover his mouth. It was going to snow. He wasn't sure if he would make it home tomorrow or not. He wanted to see Millie and had promised to take her to the ball.

"A man of action, I am not. That is going to have to change. Hear me, Midnight?" If he wanted to marry Millie, he was going to have to become a man like his father and go after what he wanted. For any woman that he wanted to marry, she deserved a man who went after her and wouldn't be stopped.

He could have told his father no. He could have ridden Frazer. But to weakly say yes to something he didn't want to do and then choose the horse that was safe but not strong enough to make it home today was not how he should have gone about it.

Father wouldn't have. Frank wouldn't have. Ernst, he wasn't sure. But Preston was now determined to be a man. If he was man enough to claim a wife, he better be man enough to take care of her and strong enough to put her above everyone else.

He groaned. He'd spent half his life complaining about his father's rough ways, only to realize that Father was often right about the matters Preston had fought with him about. Preston stopped Midnight and let her rest. Looking back down the mountain, he saw that darkness was settling in over the valley below. Turning his gaze to the heavens, he saw the pink glow in the clouds that told him they were in for snow. A lot, if he was any judge of the weather.

Having given up on getting back tonight, Preston got down and led Midnight part of the way up the roughest part of the trail. With the mine in sight, he mounted the horse and rode down to the mine office.

The first flakes fell as he walked inside the Chadwick Mine Office. On the other side of the street was the Burnett Mine Office. Preston had to shake his head. What those two old goats were fighting about remained a mystery, but how odd they had to look at each other when they went to work.

He took care of Midnight and put her up for the night in the barn. Then he walked into the office.

Mr. Mullins smiled at him and handed him the papers. "The old man left these on purpose, I think. He wanted you to see the mine office."

"How are things at the mine? Still digging out gold?"

"Yes, we are. I would have thought it would be gone by now, but just as we finish one vein, another shows itself."

Preston sat down at the desk and looked at the papers. "Any idea what caused those two men to come to blows and start the feud?"

"No, sir. Neither one of them will tell either. We've all asked them."

"Has Frank been around?"

"Yes, funny you should ask. He's the last of the Chadwicks I thought I'd see, but he's been here and over at the Burnett Mine several times. I don't know what he's looking for. He hasn't said."

Mullins had been working with his father since Preston could remember. "Do the books add up?"

"Yes, sir. I check on them once a week, and I have to say no one is skimming off the top." Mullins sat down across from Preston. "Frank asks some pretty tough questions. Rumor has it that he's working for the Pinkertons."

"I heard that too." Preston looked around the office. It was the original building that the partners used. After the feud, Burnett built his own office on his side of the mine. "Burnett still mining a good portion of gold?"

"As far as I can tell, yes." Mullins scratched his beard. "You think those two old buffaloes even know what the feud is about?"

With a chuckle, Preston shook his head. "I doubt it. Father never talks about it. That might change. I just got back from Boston, and the first person I thought of was Millie. In fact, I want to hurry and leave tomorrow so I can take her to the dance tomorrow night."

Mullins sat back. "I can see some problems there. Like Romeo and Juliet. Hope you two don't get any ideas."

Preston grinned. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm not even sure Millie will want to dance with me. But I told her I'd pick her up."

"Well, that's a start. Maybe that is just what those old bears need to end this crazy feud. I always liked Millie. She's a fine woman."

Picking the papers up, Preston stood. "I'm going to put these in my saddlebag and get some dinner. I want to get up early tomorrow."

Mullins looked outside. "Snow is coming down. You might be snowed in for a few days."

"I hope not." Preston wanted to kick himself. Here he'd had a chance to take Millie to the ball, and he'd let his father distract him and, to make things worse, took a weaker horse that forced him to wait until morning.

It was his fault. He could have told his father no, or he could have ridden Frazer. Either way, Preston had failed himself and Millie. He walked to the cabin he'd stay in and kicked at a clod of dirt. The snow was falling hard now. He'd not risk Midnight or his own life sliding down the mountain trail.

Preston looked at the falling snowflakes and hoped Millie would forgive him. After four years of not writing to her, he couldn't expect her to care if she saw him again or not.