A Handful of Heaven

Devon stood off to the side, uncertain as to what to do. Stone Man obviously didn't like George's news. But why? The discovery of gold in the valley, that was a good thing . . . wasn't it? And a customer with a shell full of gold; well, that simply had to be a good thing.

"Wait," she said as George started to leave, "would you like to buy some tarts or a piece of pie?"

"No, thanks, my Injun wife does just fine by me, missy."

Disappointed, Devon watched him leave. As she headed up to the counter, she noticed that Stone Man hadn't counted her words. That was a first. "Stone Man?"

"There goes Fortymile."

"What do you mean?"

"In the Yukon it doesn't take more than ten minutes to go from deserted valley to boom town. That's why we use tents- they go up and down quickly. Hell, the minute word of George's strike hits, there'll be men pulling up stakes from Fairbanks to Nome. They'll settle in so fast, my peaceful valley-"

"Customers!" Her face lit up. "Our post will be full every day."

"They won't all be miners. A few of the men headed this way will be store owners. By spring this valley'll be a goddamn town."

She chewed on her lower lip. Competition they couldn't

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really afford-not with Stone Man's personality. "Well, we'll just have to be the best. I could maybe make some more-"

"That's it," he said tiredly, plunking forty matchsticks in the jar. "Go home."

"But-"

His fist slammed onto the counter. "Now!"

Devon spun on her heels and barreled for the door. Midas entered at the same time, and they rammed into each other. His contemptuous laughter rang in her ears as she stumbled backward.

"Leaving?" he mocked. "So soon?"

Forcing her chin a notch higher, she sailed past him without a word.

His hate-filled voice followed her outside. "Well, Stoney-man, ya got rid o' the bitch early today. Good goin'."

Devon stopped, waiting for Stone Man's response. There was none.

She clenched her fists in frustration. When was that man going to realize that partners stood up for each other?

Sitting across the supper table from Stone Man, Devon watched him push his food around on his plate. He was staring at his supper through wide, unseeing eyes. Not once had he lifted his gaze from the plate.

Her heart went out to him. He was so obviously upset. How, she wondered, could anyone get so upset over a little handful of gold?

But in her heart she knew. It wasn't the small amount found that bothered him. It was what it represented. A thousand greedy men coming to rape the land, and every one of them looking for that handful of golden dust.

For the hundredth time she pondered his prediction. Would the moose pasture be a town by spring? A town with real streets, real stores, real people?

Dare she hope?

"Stone Man," she began cautiously.

He lurched to his feet. Belching loudly, he backhanded the leftover food from his beard and threw his unused napkin onto the table. "I've got to go."

'{

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