Copper

by Krystal M. Anderson

  “How many baked goods do you expect to auction today?”

  “No less than twenty.” Shuffling through several cards she held, Vera placed numbers three and four in front of Joan’s pound cakes.

  “Is there something I can help with?”

  Vera raised a brow, as though trying to guess Joan’s ulterior motive by asking. She must have decided Joan was innocent, because Vera picked up a sheet of paper and graphite pencil and handed it to her. “When more children arrive, you could make a list of names and ages of those planning to attend school in August. You can read and write, can’t you?”

  “Yes,” Joan replied flatly.

  Vera inclined her chin before spinning away to instruct another young mother approaching the tables.

  “You must be the Highman children,” Joan said to the little group crouched around a circle drawn in the dirt, several of the boys clutching knucklers. One of the boys who looked to be near Jesse’s age tilted his face to look up at her, a smear of silt spread across one of his cheeks.

  “That’s right. I’m James and that’s my big brother, Teddy. This here is Lucy, Agatha, and Polly.”

  “Very nice to meet you all. And how old are you?”

  James took over again, pointing to each of his siblings. Joan nodded and wrote their names and ages on her paper, noting that Agatha and Polly would not be attending school yet due to their ages.

  Jesse whooped and hollered when his knuckler punched a few of James’s marbles from within the circle. She watched them play for a few minutes until the girls took charge of a game of Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button and - to Joan’s delight - invited Chunhua to play with them. Taking Noah by the hand, Joan greeted each family that arrived, making note of the children and their ages. Miss Katherine, the school teacher, seemed very kind and intelligent, but Joan thought that the children, especially the older ones, might take advantage of her gentle personality and misbehave. Still, she was very attentive to Noah, bending to look him in the eye and shake his hand, and when Joan asked her about Chunhua attending, Miss Katherine placed her hands on her hips and said, “I’d love to see every suitably-aged child in the valley come to school, Mrs. Walley, but I shall have to discuss her attendance with the school board. It is my understanding that this shall not be an integrated school.” Joan thanked her, deciding this was probably the best answer she would receive for the time being.

  The crowd grew over the next half hour until at least one hundred bodies were pressed together in the schoolyard. Beautiful confectionary creations were displayed on the tables, including fruit cakes, horehound candies, molasses taffy, and even six of Eliza’s famous apple pies. Handfuls of men crowded the tables trying to decide which sweet to bid on, many of whom Joan recognized taking part in the erection of the building. Had Mac been here, he would have been speaking with genuine interest to as many people as possible, and listening, too, in that easy way he had. Unbidden, her gaze jumped to the dusty road near the creek and the livery, hoping beyond reason she’d see him riding tall and strong atop his flashy Paint.

  Interrupting her thoughts, Gertrude stood upon an overturned crate, thick arms extended toward the assembly, and cried, “On behalf of all those involved in the establishment of the Silver City school, I thank you for participating in this fundraiser. Each item on the tables will be auctioned to the highest bidder, and those funds will be used to purchase supplies needed to open the school in August. If you win a bid, please come to the table and transact with Mrs. Schrep. We will proceed in order, beginning with item number one. Shall we start the bid off at one dollar?”

  This was Vera’s plate of shortbread cookies, which looked a bit overcooked, but a fellow in the back offered three dollars for them. Next came Gertie’s raisin bread, which fetched a price of five dollars, and then they were on to the first of Joan’s cakes.

  “One dollar?” Gertie called.

  “Two!”

  “Five!”

  “Eight!”

  “I’ll pay twelve dollars for that pound cake!” a tall man at the front of the crowd shouted.

  Joan was astounded. Twelve dollars… for a cake? Apparently, no one was willing to pay more than this, and the gentleman claimed his prize with relish, handing his coins to Vera behind the table.

  The second cake sold for ten dollars, and Joan smiled at the thought that her day’s labor brought in twenty-two dollars for the students.

  When Noah pulled on her skirt whispering that he needed to use the outhouse, she lost track of the earnings, but with six items left to go, Joan estimated the amount to be over eighty dollars. When Eliza’s apple pies went for three dollars each, Joan couldn’t help but revel inwardly that her cakes had done better, petty though she knew it was. Gertie called for donations at the finish, too, urging any who didn’t win a baked good to support local education. Seeing Jesse and Chunhua run and play with the other children brought a smile to Joan’s lips, diminishing her worry that Chunhua would not be welcomed by the other children in the schoolhouse.

  “Well Noah, what do you say we go home?”

  “Yes, mama,” the boy nodded solemnly. They stood together at the edge of the crowd looking for Jesse and Chunhua when Joan felt several quick taps on her shoulder.

  “Lin! What are you doing here?” She’d never seen the woman outside the Chinese Laundry before, and if her damp, lye-reddened hands were any indication, she’d just come from washing.

  “Missus Wall-E, where is Chunhua?”

  “She’s running around with the other children; I’ve just begun looking for her and Jesse. Is something the matter?”

  A man Joan hadn’t noticed stepped beside Lin, his slanted eyes darting side to side beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Her heart plummeted to her boots. Had Chunhua done something wrong? Or did this man know where her family was?

  Just then, Chunhua and Jesse joined her and Noah. The girl’s chocolate eyes widened when she saw the Chinese man, and slowly, unbelievingly, she ran the last few steps to him and wrapped her arms around his legs. Tears sprang to Joan’s eyes to think that her beautiful Chunhua, the girl she’d embraced as one of her own, could want to leave them.

  Swallowing forcefully, she invited Lin and the Chinese man to her home. Lin pressed her palms together and bowed, explaining that she was expected to go back to washing.

  “Couldn’t you stay a few minutes, Lin? Please?”

  Joan’s face must have looked as desperate as she felt, for Lin reluctantly agreed. Lin and the stranger stood awkwardly in the sitting room, shaking their heads when Joan motioned for them to have a seat. Head bowed, the man subtly examined the contents of the room through the corners of his eyes.

  “Missus Wall-E,” Lin began, “This man come looking for his dah-tah. His name is Zhou Wang Lei. He travel through Silv-ah City many months ago.”

  Joan wanted to distrust his story, to somehow prove it wrong, but how could she when Chunhua clung to him? “How did they get separated?”

  Lin asked him the question, and when he answered, he wouldn’t look at Joan.

  “The travel group sepah-rate here and he not realize Chunhua gone until he reach Boise. He has been searching for her, but it take long time walking.”

  His thread-bare trousers and patchy shirt certainly supported his claim. The poor man looked as though he hadn’t eaten a hardy meal in far too long. A lump lodged itself in Joan’s throat as tears welled up. “And where is he going?”

  This question took longer for Zhou Wang Lei to answer.

  “He want to stay,” Lin translated. “He was on his way to Idaho City to work for Loke Kee, but now, money is gone. He need to find work.”

  A miniscule spark of hope swelled in her heart that Chunhua would be nearby, at least a little longer.

  “May I speak to Chunhua alone for a moment?”

  Clasping the girl by the hand, Joan guided her to her bedroom and closed the door. When she knelt in front of Chunhua and wrapped her arms around her, Joan felt like this wisp-
of-a-child was stronger and more supportive than she was. It shattered her very heart to let her go, and yet… she knew she must. Surely Chunhua would be happiest living with her blood kin. This isn’t a permanent good-bye, she reminded herself, we’ll still see her around town. So she willed her sorrow to retreat behind an inner wall and kissed her sweet flower on the forehead.

  “This is your father, Chunhua?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you… want to go with him?”

  She nodded.

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Joan slumped forward.

  “You’ve been a good girl, Chunhua. Thank you for letting us be your family. I wish it could have lasted longer.”

  Large, dark eyes shining with moisture, Chunhua gave Joan a final, quick hug and said, “I will miss you.” As soon as they left the room, Chunhua ran to Noah and Jesse, giving both of them a hug. Jesse squirmed but accepted the farewell, but Joan had to tear her gaze away from Noah’s trembling lower lip for fear she’d break down right then and there.

  “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll pack a bag with her things. You can take them with you.”

  Stepping into the second bedroom, she opened the wardrobe Chunhua had shared with the boys and folded both of the dresses hanging inside, along with the little underclothing and stockings Joan and Mac had lovingly provided. Unable to stomach the probability that Chunhua would be entering destitution and suspecting Zhou Wang Lei would not accept help, Joan snatched one of Jesse’s stockings from the drawer and rushed to her bedroom, filling it with a handful of the coins Mac had hidden in the locked compartment under the washstand. When he’d showed it to her, he’d instructed her to use it for emergencies, and she figured this was as desperate as a person could get. She hoped a man with a heart as generous as his would find no fault in the action. Concealing the heavy stocking under the rest of Chunhua’s things, she put the bundle in an empty burlap sack and handed it to Zhou Wang Lei.

  Then, with a look conveying deep and humble gratitude, Chunhua’s father bowed to Joan, whispering something in Mandarin.

  “He say ‘thank you for taking care of his dah-tah’,” Lin provided, then she, too, bowed and exited.

  Joan, Jesse, and Noah stood on the front porch, watching Chunhua walk away, her hand enveloped by the firm hand of her father.

  Unable to suppress the desolation a moment longer, Joan collapsed onto the sofa, her boys pulled tightly to her, and sobbed.

  Sixteen

  W hen there was a knock on the door the next afternoon, Joan couldn’t summon the energy or desire to see who was standing on the other side. She’d slept fitfully the night before, mourning for the captivating daughter she’d lost. Her face felt puffy and grotesque from the tears that flowed as dependably as Jordan Creek. Deep inside, a part of her whispered that she ought to have prepared herself for the possibility someone would come looking for Chunhua, that she should have held a part of herself back so it wouldn’t be so painful when they did. But no, that didn’t feel right, either, for a girl as intelligent and sweet as Chunhua deserved to be loved completely.

  It was worse, the way the boys ambled around quietly, unsure of what to say or do. Joan tried to smile, invited them to talk about what they were feeling, but the heavy, morose sadness that smothered their happy space continued to reign.

  Whomever was pounding on the door would not go away. Couldn’t they let her lament in peace? Annoyed, Joan tromped to open it. The angry words turned around and jumped back down her throat when Clara’s husband, Mr. Horner, stared wide-eyed down at her.

  Mac.

  She’d thought her heart had already been shattered, but unfortunately, enough was still intact to lurch painfully in her breast.

  “Mrs. Walley… may I come in?”

  All she could do was nod.

  “Has something happened?” He asked with concern.

  She glanced at the boys and took a deep breath. “Chunhua was reclaimed by her father yesterday. We just miss her, that’s all.”

  Hal’s brows pulled together in a way that made her think he didn’t understand who Chunhua was and why she was significant, but the placating tone when he said “So sorry” made her feel a tiny bit better.

  “You bring news? Is it Mac?” Now she noticed the dust plastered to his skin and clothing and his unkempt hair. Had he stopped here before his own home?

  “I do. It’s a long story, but what I wanted to tell you is that he is safe – he’s just been delayed. And he was shot.”

  She gasped.

  “That was not at all tactful, was it? I apologize; I’m blaming it on too many hours tossed around on that insufferable mule of mine. Let me try again. We apprehended the Grisham Gang, Mrs. Walley, in the City of Rocks. Your husband was instrumental in capturing all but two of the men, one of whom was killed in a shoot-out with the other. Mac took a bullet in his abdomen, just here, below the rib, but he fixed himself up, slept, and rode off with the sheriff to Corinne in Utah territory.” Wonder crept into his voice as he added, “A stronger man I’ve never seen, Mrs. Walley. They’re taking the captured outlaws to the jail there, then they’ll return. Deputy Chalice and I have only just arrived.”

  The breath she’d been holding rushed out of her. Mac was alive and expected to make it home! Oh, how sweet the words. “How long will it take?”

  “They’ll be another week, at least; I’m sure Mac won’t push himself so hard with that bullet hole.”

  Again, she nodded. “Thank you for coming. Would you like refreshment before you go?”

  “Thank you, but no; I’m anxious to see my Clara. If you need anything, you’re welcome at our house.”

  “I appreciate your kindness.”

  Joan leaned against the door when he’d gone, massaging her temple. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about how Mac had fared with the Grisham Gang, though the chances of the wound festering was cause for concern.

  It will be what it will be. Right now, I’ve two growing boys to tend to, and that is plenty. Summoning a smile, she turned to the boys. “Why don’t we pull a couple of carrots from the garden and walk over to visit Juniper? Jesse, you can brush him while Noah feeds him the treat.”

  Michael was settling with a customer out front when Joan and the boys slipped past them and into the barn. The gray pony nosed the door of his stall, his eyes barely high enough to peek over the top. Occupying the next two stalls were Mac’s new Nez Perce horses. Graceful as a ballerina, the roan mare closest to Joan nuzzled her shoulder with her soft nose. Her reddish mane was long and straight and her chocolate eyes seemed to see inside Joan, straight to the hurt. It made her eyes sting, reminding her of Mac’s brown eyes that were so gentle and compassionate. As she had so many times, she wondered where he was right now, whether he was hurting, and if he missed her. When he came home, he’d be hurting from the bullet on the outside and sure to hurt from losing Chunhua on the inside. She’d be added to his growing list of loved ones lost.

  When he comes home, I’ll not waste a day showing him how much I appreciate - and love - him. I’ve wasted enough time already.

  ~~~~~

  Thank heavens the evenings grow cool. I don’t think I’d be able to abide this heat otherwise. Six stifling summer days had come and gone, each of them blending into the next until it felt like one endless day without Mac by Joan’s side. That would be her greatest wish, one step above the desire to receive a day of refreshing summer rain. She’d helped Michael feed and water the animals every morning, had asked him not to worry about coming until the afternoon the day before because she felt confident she could handle the early chores. And she had, in addition to the usual housekeeping and cooking she already managed.

  That night, after tucking the boys into bed, Joan collapsed onto the sofa to do a bit of sewing, but she’d barely worked a dozen stitches when her eyelids began to droop. The bed linens were so cool and refreshing when she slid between them, she blew a sigh as her head sank deep into her pillow.

&n
bsp; Not long after, Joan jerked awake. Unsure what had interrupted her sleep, she lifted her head to listen. The soft nicker that drifted through her open casement window wasn’t anything to worry about, but then there was the clicking of hooves on rock…

  It could be someone riding home from a late night in town, she reasoned, but just to be sure, she got out of bed and pulled her wrapper on tight.

  The wood planks of the porch were cool on her bare feet as she padded into the darkness. Chirping crickets and the moving water in the creek were the only sounds as she strained to hear or see something. When she had all but made up her mind to go back to bed, a shadow detached itself from the livery and opened the barn door. A bare-chested man crept out leading two horses on a line – Mac’s prized Nez Perce pair.

  Joan pressed herself against a thick porch beam and pressed a fisted hand to her mouth in alarm. No, not this. Not after all Mac has had to deal with. Not after all he’d done.

  Slowly, she tipped her head to watch as the other figure entered and, after a few minutes, exited from the barn leading the wagon horses, May and Dolly, and a third, smaller person stringing up Ringo and a few boarded horses in the corral. Juniper, bless him, gave a shrill whinny from his stall, not at all liking that his friends were leaving him behind. As the trio mounted their own bare-backed horses and urged them up the hard-packed road toward the house, their fringed leather trousers and long, black hair grew clearer.

  Indians.

  Joan held her breath as they passed, and the minute the last rode by, she dashed into the house as quietly as she could. She wouldn’t let them take Mac’s horses.

  “Jesse,” she whispered, shaking her son frantically. “Jesse, wake up.”

  He lifted his head and mumbled, “What is it, mama?”

  “Jesse, listen real careful. I need your help. Can you saddle Juniper and ride over to the jailhouse to alert Deputy Chalice that the horses have been stolen from the livery? Quick as you can!”