A Handful of Heaven

Devon's startled gaze flew to the tent flaps. Digger Haines was standing just inside the post, and for the first time since she'd met him he wasn't smiling.

"Hello, Digger. Would you like some tea?"

He shuffled over to the little stove and pulled out a stool beside her. With a heavy sigh he slumped onto the hard wooden surface. "Call me Marvin. I don't feel much like Digger today."

Devon leaned toward him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing much," he said with unusual bitterness. "I just made about the biggest discovery of my life, and I can't do nothin' about it. That's all." He stripped off his thick winter gloves and laid them on the floor in front of the stove. "Yeah, guess I'll have some o' that tea after all."

Frowning, Devon poured him a cup. "What do you mean?"

He took the cup greedily, wrapping his stubby fingers 151

He's gone, darn it. If he were so all-fired concerned about how she ran the post, he should have stuck around. A

loved

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First December 1896.

Weather today is crisp and clear. No new snow last nightbuildup remains at approximately eighteen inches.

Several miners seen milling about the saloon this a.m.- apparently it's now too cold to be on the trail. Hard winter is close, and the men who have spent months mining Bonanza Creek are returning home.

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It's time he came home.

No!

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like her. could

cheechako,

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cheechako

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Chapter Fifteen

Damn bees.

This isn 't the way it should have ended for you. Of all of us, you deserved better.

Don't start thinking about what he deserved. . . .

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