Feeling desperate, Elizabeth pulled Clint’s six-gun from her belt and aimed it in their direction, firing it once.
All four men sobered and jumped away as the bullet pinged into their boat.
“Hey, lady, what do you think you’re doin’!” one shouted.
“I need help!” she screamed. “I’ve asked dozens of men for help the last two days, and you’re all so bent on finding gold you can’t take three minutes to help a man who might be dying! Please get over here and help me, you ungrateful, un-Christian creatures, or I swear I’ll shoot all of you!”
She used both hands to point the six-gun, surprised at her own words, knowing she would never back them but hoping these men believed she would.
The men looked at each other and mumbled something back and forth. “Come on,” one of them finally said.
“What do you want, lady?” another said as they drew closer.
Elizabeth stepped off the raft and backed away. “All I need is for you to pick up my husband and put him on this sled and secure him so he can’t fall off. That’s all! You can be on your way after that.”
The man shrugged. “Well, considerin’ you’ve got a gun pointed at us, I guess we’ll oblige you,” the man answered.
They all grinned and chuckled as they stepped onto the raft and managed to pick up Clint. It took all four of them to do it because of his size. They watched Elizabeth warily but with obvious humor as they laid Clint onto the sled and secured him, then stepped back. All the while Elizabeth continued to hold the gun on them.
“That good enough?” one of them asked.
Elizabeth took a quick look. “That looks fine.” She slowly lowered the gun. “Now, you can go on about your business. Jesus Christ will bless you for helping me, even though it was at gunpoint. And if I were you, gentlemen, I would think about what is more important in life—gold, or doing the Christian thing for another human being.”
A couple of them frowned and shook their heads, while the other two appeared rather sheepish and guilty.
“Yes, ma’am,” one of them told her.
The four of them turned away and returned to their business, and Elizabeth put the six-gun back into her belt, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making me shoot them,” she prayed softly. She hurried over to Clint and leaned close. “You’ll be all right, Clint. Just a little farther to help now.”
To her surprise he opened his eyes and looked at her with a soft grin. “You…did good…six-gun Lizzy.”
She smiled through tears. It was the most he’d said in nearly two days, and it meant he was more lucid and hadn’t lost his sense of humor. It was a good sign! “I love you,” she told him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
She walked up to Devil and patted the horse’s neck. “Okay, boy, see if you can pull your master into town. And don’t get feisty on me.”
Devil shook his mane and whinnied, then took off at a slow walk. Elizabeth was not about to try to make the horse go any faster, sensing this was the best the poor, starved animal could do, and wary of doing anything that might make him rear.
“I’ll get you to a stable and get you some real good hay and oats and a much-deserved rest, Devil. I promise. We just have to find help for Clint first.”
She headed into town, such as it was, Devil’s hooves and her own boots splashing through muck and mud, dragging the sled through puddles and slime, across more snow, a patch of ice, more mud, passing saloon after saloon, from whence came the sounds of laughter of both men and women and jolly piano-playing.
They passed several supply stores, a livery, restaurants, nearly all establishments nothing more than tents. Then came a hotel of sorts, made of logs, numerous log houses and more tents used for private living, it appeared, two land offices and three different log buildings that bore signs on the front reading Claims. From not far away came the sounds of a sawmill, and up in the mountains came the occasional rumble of an explosion, dynamite, most likely, as men blew away pieces of mountain to find veins of gold.
She passed yet another saloon, astonished that men could drink so much that in such a little town