by Caryl McAdoo
Scouting water for a new still, huh? While she finished supper, she toyed with the notion of Caleb being just up the mountain cooking mash, but made herself put that idea out of her head.
Moses would never allow him to be so close and... The tears welled again, but she closed her eyes and forced them away.
He picked Mary, not her.
If Lanelle was so stupid as to run off with him, first cold snap or least bit of trouble, he'd be right back begging the princess for one more chance.
Why, oh why, did she love him so?
The men showed right after the last blast. All three couldn't say enough nice words about her cooking, then like most nights, Jethro and Elijah took their leave.
How she dreaded it.
Not one part of her wanted to, but she had to. No choice about it.
She pulled him to his feet, and pressed herself into his chest. He smelled of gun powder and man sweat. Her Moses could never be mistaken for a dandy, even fresh from the barber.
He wrapped his arm around her. “Something wrong?”
She leaned back and shrugged. “Caleb stopped by earlier.”
Moses nodded. “Where is he now?”
“Don't know. He lit out when I went to ringing the bell.” She hoped her voice didn't betray her heart. “Should have seen him run.”
“What’d he want?”
“Me to run off with him.” He stepped toward the door, but she grabbed both hands and pulled him back. “Leave him be, Moses.”
Oh, how she hated to give him cause to worry.
He let her stop him then only stared at her.
Even in the bit of lantern light, his pain so evident that her heart hurt. “Can't have him coming around. Don't know what I'd do. If I lost you and the child. Not knowing how you feel about –”
“I told him you know everything. Don't worry. He won't be back.”
For the longest, he stood there holding her hands, then she backed up a step and nodded toward the bed. “Come to bed, husband of mine. Let your wife kiss all your troubles away.”
He nodded then chuckled as though that notion appealed way more than him out in the dark hunting the yellow-bellied coward.
Once Caleb found the mules and hitched them back up, the muscles in his neck relaxed a bit. That monster wouldn't come after him. Lanelle had lied to her husband just like she lied when she said she didn't love Caleb.
She'd always loved him, and she always would.
Probably told Moses that the baby's pap was some penniless miner.
Heading back down the mountain, he got plenty far before stopping for supper. Not until after he finished off the pint, did he remember the jug. How stupid could he be? Why had he thought she'd slip off to that pool with him?
He chuckled.
Maybe because she'd been sneaking off to see him her whole life.
Only had to wait a while. She'd be back.
The gold would run out, and Jones would be off to the next claim, leaving his sweet cousin in that shack. What chowderhead would want to raise another man's son?
That thought comforted him the whole way back to town, but the closer he got, the more he figured he deserved a quick drink. Only been gone four days. She’d never know.
Dropping the wagon and mules at the first livery he came to, he headed straight to Chinatown. Mary never went there alone. One reason he and his Nellie liked it so much.
He pushed open the saloon's doors, waited for his eyes to adjust, then strolled inside.
“What'll it be, sir?”
A Half Eagle slapped the bar. “Whiskey, and leave the bottle.”
“Yes, sir. You in the need for company?” The barkeep nodded toward the far corner, two scantily clad ladies smiled at him. He put the bourbon and change on the rough boards. “One ounce of dust, one hour."
Tales regarding oriental sporting ladies pushed front and center in his mind. Many a man had told him stories hardly believable, but he'd never...he shrugged. “Kind of steep price.” He screwed off the cap and took a long pull.
Fire and ice lit him up good. He studied on the younger one. Best he could see, the girl wasn’t much older than his Mary. She rose and stepped into the light.
Her slanted almond-shaped eyes and that come-on-over smile hit him hard. He took another long pull. She strolled toward him, her feet floating over the wooden floor. Never in all his days had he seen such a dark-haired beauty.
Her scent reached him before she was close enough to touch. So light and sweet and totally intoxicating.
“Hey mister, you buy a lady a drink?”
Nodding, he held out his bottle. She reached past him and brushed against his arm sending zingers off in two directions. What a tiny little thing. He breathed in lilac water.
She leaned back with a shot glass in her hand. “You make it a double for you pretty China Doll? I'm very thirsty.”
His hand trembled as he poured. He took another guzzle off the bottle, then poured a second shot for her.
“You bring it and come with me. You like, no?” She wrapped herself around his arm and led him up the stairs to her small room.
Silk draped her bed. Maybe a dozen candles flickered and cast a myriad of shadows. He turned to her, and she kissed him. Not like any sporting lady had ever kissed him before. The stories must all be true, and he figured he should have his own.
His China Doll reached inside his chest and stole his heart.
Later the next evening, she put on a wool dress and proper bonnet with a shawl and went with him to the stable. She batted her eyes at him while he made a deal on the wagon and mules.
Not like there wasn't plenty of money to buy more, and he just couldn't stand the thought of anyone else being with his beautiful China Doll.
While waiting outside the mine's entrance, off to the side out of the blow path, Jethro elbowed his friend. “You've been extra cheery these past few days, you sick?” He loved ribbing the big lummox.
Moses glanced over then smiled and looked toward the hammer mill. “I think she's falling in love with me.”
Jethro did a slow three sixty. Elijah worked his oil can. Man, that fellow loved his machines. “She tell you that?”
“You know I made her promise not to until... But, well, uh... Last three nights, she... Uh...”
“Say no more.” He hadn’t been thrilled with the young woman when Moses first came home with her, but no denying the joy she brought. “You sure she's not just grateful you didn't kill her cousin?”
“Maybe, but I don't think that's totally it. She sure seems different.” Had to give it to the gentle giant. Seemed an awful big thing to accept the baby of her cousin. The soon to be daddy smiled. “Felt the baby kick this morning, then right after... Uh.”
Jethro grinned. “Ain't a bit fair! You have all the luck.”
“Nay, my friend, no luck to it. My Lanelle is a blessing from God. He give her to me, not luck.”
“If that's how you want to see it.” He retrieved his pocket watch. “Been eleven minutes. Didn't we rig up five minute fuses?”
Before his friend could say his usual ‘we'll wait another ten’, the powder exploded, sending bits of gravel and white smoke out the mine's entrance.
Moses rubbed his hands together. “Come on, partner, let's see what new riches the Lord blessed us with this time.”
Jethro joined his friend. No doubt the gold was nice, but seemed to him the real treasure stayed down the mountain in her new cabin. He’d never seen his friend more at peace or happier.
Elijah brought the cart, and soon enough another ton of ore headed out for the hammer mill. After the first crushing, a bit of color caught Jethro's eye.
Picking up the nice size nugget, he hefted it in his palm. Perfect size for jewelry gold. She'd love it.
Then, in spite of all his promises not to let his Chinese love—to keep her out of his thoughts—Meiko stepped out of her silk-covered room, smiled at him, and waltzed across his heart, each dainty step ripping and teari
ng it anew.
How in the name of Moses' God could one female be so beautiful and so cruel?
If you really are out there God, send me someone like Lanelle or at least help me forget that black-hearted woman.
Chapter Seven
“Mary? John around?”
“He's down at the docks seeing to our next shipment. Won't be back for a while. Something I can help you with, Mister Wingate?”
The man shook his head. “It's Caleb." He stepped closer. The muscles in his jaws popped out a rhythm. Teeth clinching like he couldn't bear to let the words pass. “He's...”
She ran around the counter. “What? Tell me! Is he hurt?”
“Hate to say it, ma’am, he's dead.”
She grabbed her belly. “No, not my Caleb. He isn't. He's out scouting water. Be back today. He promised.” Turning away, she went to straightening the shelves behind the counter. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be dead.
“I'm so sorry to be the bearer of tragic news, Mary, but it’s true. They took him to old man Brown’s.”
Wheeling around, she put her hands on her hips. “Mister Wingate, this is not funny. Now really. Caleb’s gone to find sweet water, that’s all. You see? Whoever’s been carried to Mister Brown’s establishment is not my husband.”
The man stepped closer and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Mary, I'm happy to get my buggy, and we’ll go find John for you. Want to go to the docks then?”
Her stomach churned, but not because of the baby. He’d be back. He promised. She shook her head. “No need to interrupt John’s busy day. I mean just because some fool miner went and got himself killed. Caleb's coming home today.”
“Should I go get Mattie? You want her to come over?”
It had to be some horrible mistake. “I do appreciate the offer, and I'm sorry, but this can't be true. I'll lock up and let you take me to the undertaker and show you for sure and for certain that someone's made a terrible blunder here.”
“Fine then. I'll fetch my rig around to the front, ma'am.”
“I'll go get my bonnet and shawl, then I'll be right down. Thank you, Mister Wingate.” Upstairs, she also grabbed her purse and stowed her daddy's pistol in it, too. She locked up and waited out front for her neighbor.
This silly incident would make a good story to tell her babies one day. Caleb would get a big kick out of it. Yeah, that poor miner who could have been your father's twin got himself...
Big mistake.
How had Mister Wingate said the man died? Or had he?
He pulled up then ran round and helped her up.
Sitting ramrod straight, she looked ahead. “How did this man that looks like Caleb meet his demise?”
A palpable uneasiness fell over Mister Wingate, and he shook his head. “Let's make sure it’s him first. You almost got me convinced it’s all about a look-alike stranger.”
What could it be? That disquiet she saw? “Why? What was this poor man doing?”
“Can't rightly tell you the what, but it's the where I didn't want to mention. You see, he was in the Golden Dragon.”
“No, not my Caleb. He wouldn't be caught dead in that place.”
A wave of nausea swept over her. He would never step foot in that awful den of iniquity. And why? He would have no reason. Not a happily married man with his first baby on the way. He was still out somewhere looking for sweet water.
She relaxed a bit. If they found their dead man at the Golden Dragon, then that convinced her all the more it couldn’t be her Caleb. After being gone a week, he’d be in a rush to get home to her.
He would never have gone to Chinatown, much less that place.
The buggy rounded a corner. Four other members of the Vigilante Committee stood outside the undertaker’s like they were waiting on Wingate--or her. Good, she could set them all straight, and they could be about finding the poor miner’s folks.
Accepting the offered hand, she disembarked and marched up to old man Brown’s place of business. The undertaker dressed in black with a string tie bow and top hat greeted her just outside his door.
“I'm so sorry for your loss, Mis'ess Wheeler.”
“There's no need to be, sir. There’s an egregious error here. No reason to be consoling me.” She went inside without waiting for him to respond or one of the other gentlemen to open the door. “Now where's this man you think is my Caleb?”
He ushered her into the back room. A man-sized lump covered by a white sheet lay on a table in the middle of the room. A lock of brown hair, exactly the color of his, showed under the white sheet.
Her heart skipped a beat.
No!
Plenty of men had brown hair, and if he looked like her husband, then what else could she expect?
Mister Brown eased around her, put his hand on the sheet, then faced her. "I'm so sorry."
He pulled back the cover.
Her gasped startled even her. Tears filled her eyes. She batted them away, then leaned in and looked closer. It was him. Dear God, it was Caleb. “Oh, my darling husband, what have you gone and done?”
She recoiled. What had he done? Been found at the Golden Dragon?
Tentatively, she pulled the cover back off his feet. Right there they were. Those toes so different from any she’d seen. The flap of skin between his three middle toes grew up to the first knuckle on both feet. Just like his daddy and his daddy before him, Caleb had told her. And John had them, too, like all the Wheeler men.
She marched back outside and found Wingate huddled with the other committee members. “What was he doing in that place?”
Shrugging, her neighbor shook his head. "They said he'd been there three days, holed up with a uh....”
Her cheeks flashed red hot. “With what? Was he playing Faro?”
“No, ma’am. A bottle and a... Uh… Mis'ess, I'm not sure you should hear this in your condition.”
The man to his right elbowed her neighbor. “Tell her, Virgil, best to hear it now than from some stranger.”
“A whore, ma'am, the one calls herself the China Doll. He'd been with her. Barkeep said when he ran out of money, she and him went and sold your wagon and teams of mules. Then when that money was gone –”
“No!” Tears flowed. Someone screamed. Her head spun, and sobs wracked her from the core. Her knees buckled. Strong hands grabbed her arms and shoulders. White-hot searing pain cut into her heart. Then nothing.
A soft hand smoothed her hair.
“Poor, poor dear.”
Good, her mother had come. She opened her eyes.
No, only Mis'ess Wingate. “I made some tea, sweetie. Would you like a cup?”
She sat up in bed. She couldn't be here. She had a business to run. Caleb would be furious with...
Oh, Lord, what had he done? How could it be?
What had she done?
Run off without her daddy's blessing just like her mother!
Dear God, I have become my mother.
Tears flowed anew. The pain in her heart dulled to a throbbing ache. A shroud of guilt covered her shoulders, weighed her down so.
Alone.
So far from home.
Could she bear it?
How had her mother stood it all those years ago? She needed her daddy, but he hated her, and she couldn’t blame him. Worse, didn't want anyone in the family to have anything to do with her either.
Oh, Father in Heaven, what will I do?
Alone in San Francisco and about to deliver….
Her mama had been pregnant, too, with Rebecca. Tears fell anew.
Mis'ess Wingate sat on the bed next to her and stoked her hair. “I'm so sorry, dear Mary. Sweet darlin' girl. What can Virgil and I do to help you?”
The days piled on top of each other like corn in the crib until they stood so tall, she huddled in their shadow, unable to see the sun or feel its warmth on her face.
Work became her only solace. John tiptoed around as though it had been his fault Caleb got himself killed. So far, the
miner who had ruined her life hadn't been caught.
The Vigilant Committee had sent flyers all over the state, with his name and description. A lot of good that would do her. Caleb dead and gone; lynching some guy wouldn't bring him back.
Even worse, Mister Wingate explained they couldn't close the Golden Dragon or the Palace or any of the other brothels.
The miners would riot and likely string up the committee.
A month to the day after Mary had buried her husband, the young man who worked with Moses and the mysterious Jethro Risen came for supplies.
John pulled him to the side. Probably telling him about Caleb. Then Elijah went to telling John something. Mary wanted to move closer, but that wouldn't be polite.
And really, what did it matter anyway?
A tear ran down her cheek. Her husband was dead, killed in a house of ill repute fighting over the notorious China Doll. How could she have been so wrong? Her chin fell to her chest, and she stared at her ever increasing girth.
Her belly grew bigger by the day. She stiffened her back and wiped the tear away. How could she cry for the likes of Caleb Wheeler?
But no matter how ridiculous, she still loved him. Why had he been there in that incorrigible place? What had driven him to that woman? She obviously was not a very good wife, or he never would have strayed.
While John loaded the supplies, Elijah paid the bill. Mary made small talk, hoping he wouldn't bring anything up. “You tell Lanelle to come see us.”
“Yes, ma'am. She told me to give you and Mister John her love.”
“Thank you, I appreciate the message.” She reached over the counter and touched his forearm. “Elijah, what is your surname?” He wrinkled his nose. “Your father’s family name?”
“Oh, yes, ma'am. It's Eversole. Elijah Eversole.” He gave her a sad puppy dog look. “I'm sorry about your husband, ma'am. Miss Lanelle is going to hate hearing her cousin’s gone.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Ma’am, when you get ready, let me know, and I'll make you a good husband. I'd never go running off with another woman.”
