Read Online Josiah's Treasure by Nancy Herriman - Free Book Online Page B

Frank chuckled again. Visit. Like he was an invited guest. If it took more than one visit to find the gold, he didn’t care. And if he had to rough up the Whittier woman because she wouldn’t oblige him, he didn’t care about that, either.
    He dropped the cigar on the planks and stood.
    Soon, me boy, soon you’ll be rich.

Six
    “I t did not go well yesterday afternoon, did it?” Lottie’s polished ivory leather boots stepped into Sarah’s view, peeping beyond the ruffled hem of her draped rose-pink skirts. Only Lottie could wear light-colored shoes in San Francisco and keep them pristine. “Sarah?”
    Sarah looked up from the worktable. Her friend’s pale eyes, the sort of startlingly clear blue that appeared bottomless, fathomless, hooked Sarah’s with the tenacity of a fishing barb.
    “Emma is waiting for further instruction, Lottie,” Sarah said, pointing her pencil at the young German woman seated at the corner desk. Hearing her name, she lifted her head. Her full, smooth face masked a fierce pride that permitted no one to get close, no one to learn the details of her hardscrabble childhood. It didn’t conceal her keen mind.
    “Emma is working the balance sheet examples I gave her,” Lottie responded. “She will be busy for the next few minutes, at least. Please tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”
    “During lessons is not the time to discuss this.” Sarah returned her attention to the girl at her side. “Remember, Anne, when you draw the master for a chromolithograph, keep the lines distinct so that when we make our transfer copies for each color, you won’t get confused.”
    The girl, her tall back bent over the table set beneath the window of the second-floor study Sarah had converted into aworkroom, frowned with concentration. Beneath her pen, the outlines of a palm tree and oaks near a pond came to life, filling in with her imagination the details the photograph Sarah had provided did not contain. Anne had a natural gift for sketching landscapes. Her talent would go to waste plying a needle as a seamstress, which was how she earned a scant living.
    Sarah’s gaze flitted over the girl’s profile. The bright sunlight streaming through the window lit Anne’s face. A fresh bruise bloomed on her chin. She had tried to turn away from the blow, this time. Sarah wondered how many other bruises were hidden beneath her high collars and long sleeves. Emma’s life might be hardscrabble, but at least she didn’t arrive at lessons with her face purpling from a man’s fist.
    Sarah’s fingers wavered, wanting to brush away the strand of chestnut hair fallen across the bruise. She had touched Anne only once, when the girl had first come to work for her. A quick hug that had caused her to flinch like she’d been doused with scalding water. Sarah had never touched Anne again.
    She returned her gaze to Anne’s careful sketching. “That’s it. Lovely.”
    “Sarah, you need to tell me.” Lottie leaned over as far as her corset and her heavy bustle permitted. She stared Sarah in the face. “What did Mr. Cady say?”
    Anne’s thin, dark eyebrows scrunched. “Mr. Cady?”
    Sarah shot an admonishing glance at Lottie before responding. She hadn’t planned on telling the girls about Daniel until absolutely necessary. If he turned out to be a swindler—an unlikely possibility, but she had to hope—they would never learn of him at all. “A man who claims he’s a relative of Mr. Josiah recently arrived in town. He came all the way from Chicago.”
    “What does he want, Miss Sarah?” Emma asked from across the room.
    This house, my inheritance . . .
“He simply wanted to visit Josiah, Emma. He was unaware he had passed away. That’s all.”
    Emma exchanged a look with Anne. “A man does not make a long train ride from Chicago, Miss Sarah, simply for a visit,” said Emma. “He looks for something else, I think.”
    Setting down her pencil, Sarah regarded the girls in turn. “I will handle Mr.