by Caryl McAdoo
Granted, arthritis had crippled the poor man’s hands so that he could hardly hold a razor or a pair of scissors, but failed young miners meant strong backs aplenty in San Francisco, and Virgil had an easy manner with all.
He could have gone to work for a number of folks. Once the older lady retreated to the kitchen, Mary’s daddy came to mind. He gathered good men, worked them hard, paid them better than anyone else, then made them family.
His methods had served him well.
She never knew he had such a stubborn, hateful mean streak. How could he be so cruel, to not even let her sisters write? Would he ever forgive her transgression?
Had she so injured his pride?
Chapter Nine
The old womandropped thesheet and stood. “You dress now. I make tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mary rolled off the hard table and got herself decent then joined the midwife in her parlor heavily draped with red satin.
The worst part of every visit proved to be drinking Miss Ling’s bitter tea. After she drained her cup and slipped a silver dollar under the saucer, she smiled. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”
“One week, two…” The old woman smiled. “Baby good, she come when ready.”
“A girl, you sure?”
Miss Ling lifted bony shoulders. “Maybe.”
Virgil met her at the door on the way out and helped her into the wagon. “Everything fine, Miss Mary?”
“She says another week or two.”
“Oh.” He glanced at her belly, shook his head, then tapped the mules with the leather harness.
She leaned against the seat’s short backrest and wrapped both arms around her belly. A girl. Oh, she hoped that was true. Susannah Ruth Wheeler had such a nice ring to it. If only her mama could be here.
Or any of them. She couldn’t believe her daddy turned out to be such a stubborn man. Pride goes before a fall, and he knew that perfectly well. Bible said it plain as day. She would never have thought he’d hold such a grudge against her.
Virgil stopped at the front door, helped her down, then took the rig to the livery.
Just inside the Mercantile’s front door, Elijah waited, holding a bouquet of daisies and lacy ferns. The young man looked so cute standing there. His apparent nervousness might cause him to bolt any second if he didn’t wet his britches.
Poor guy.
He extended the flowers. “Jethro Risen said ladies liked pretty things. When I saw these on the way this morning…” He smiled. “They ain’t near as beautiful as you, but I thought you might like them.”
Mary accepted his offering, but didn’t really know what to say. She never wanted to hurt him and hadn’t done anything to lead him on. She’d been careful of that. “Why thank you, Elijah. They’re lovely, and that’s so thoughtful of you.”
Mattie hurried in, holding a vase. “Here, Mary, let me take those.” She smiled at him. “Want them on your desk?”
“Sure, that’ll be fine, and thank you.” She turned back to him. “Got a list for us? Virgil will be back shortly. If you don’t mind, I’ll let him help you.”
He nodded, then his expression changed from bashful suitor to… What was it she saw there?
“Mary, I’ve got good news. At least I hope you’ll think it is.” He puffed his chest then held out a piece of paper. “We’re partners now.”
“What are you saying, we’re partners?” She took the paper and read it over.
“Yes, ma’am. John Wheeler came by yesterday, and we all decided to buy him out. Used the mine’s gold, so I’m like…uh, a ten percent owner now.” He pointed toward the paper. “I think ten’s right.”
“Let me see.”
“It’s all right there. Jethro said for me to give you back the fifteen hundred you gave John ’fore he left. Didn’t want you to be short of cash.”
She and her cousin had shook on it. She had the option to buy John’s share. Nothing was right about this—the way he handled it. “What did he charge you?”
“Ten grand, less the fifteen hundred. Moses said if you want, we’ll keep the extra, and you can have a bigger cut, but either way, you’re still the boss.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, Miss Lanelle says if it’s fine with you, her and Moses would like to come stay when her time gets closer.”
“Of course, we’ll make a place for her. Any idea when?”
“No, ma’am. She ain’t…uh…sorry, isn’t…” He glanced at her tummy then studied on the floor.
“What is it, Elijah?”
“Well, ma’am, she’s not as…”
She grinned and patted his shoulder. “I see. Not as big? Is that the word you’re hunting?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am, sorry. I mean, she’s…uh, in the motherly way and all, but…” He held his hands out from his own stomach. “About to here.”
Looked to Mary maybe six months along, but how could that be? She and Moses were only married…. When? She thought back. Mercy, had it been that long? No, she was rightly sure not, but then what did the man know about anything?
She read through the contract again, more slowly this time. Simple enough; she handed it back. “I’ll take the cash, and we’ll be fifty-fifty, but I want the part about me being the boss in writing.”
“Yes, ma’am. Mister Risen thought you might. Said for me to sign for our side, then file it all with the claims clerk, like it were a mine.”
Worked for her. Having the gold back was heaven sent. She’d been losing sleep over how to scrape up enough money to pay for her next shipment. Stupid bankers wanted a piece of the business plus interest before they’d give her any money.
At least John had sold his share to kin. Lanelle wouldn’t let them cheat her, would she?
Oh, Daddy, why couldn’t it be you? She’d love being his partner.
“You best write it out exactly like you want it. My spelling ain’t the best. You go ahead, then I’ll just sign.”
His words pulled her back from Texas. “Of course, Elijah.” She waddled to her desk and retrieved a new piece of paper.
“Want to go with me?”
She held her quill up and looked at him, his demure suitor face back in place. “What?”
“The clerk’s office. Want to go with me? We could stop somewhere after and get us a nice dinner. You know, to celebrate us being partners.”
“Thank you, but no, I best stay here.”
Obviously crestfallen, he stiffened his upper lip as the Brits claimed they did and smiled. “Can I bring you something when I come back for our supplies?”
She should tell him no, but couldn’t bring herself to be downright mean. She’d have to find another way to get through to Elijah that she was done with suitors more boy than man. “That would be nice, but something light. I can’t eat a lot.”
Oh, Daddy, why did you have to be right?
“Yes, ma’am. I can see why.” Poor thing, his face reddened.
“It’s all right, Elijah. I know what you meant. It’s almost time for my baby to be born. She’s about as big as she’s got room to grow, don’t you think?”
He circled the brim of his hat, skittish as a cornered coon. “Yes, ma’am, I’d say so.” He stuffed his hat on his head and took off.
She couldn’t help laughing, but stifled her giggles until he was out the door. Thank goodness for that.
Eight days later, on a rainy October day, little Susannah decided she wanted out, and what started as the worst day of Mary’s life, turned into the best. The pain’s memory vanished with one look at her baby girl.
It broke her heart Caleb would never see his daughter, especially after claiming he loved children and wanted a houseful.
How had that woman snared him in her trap? Three days, they said he’d been there….
Little Susannah whimpered, and all thoughts of her dead husband vanished. A part of him, the best part, lived on in his baby. Mary would tell her all of the good and keep the bad buried.
Tomorrow or the nex
t, she’d write again. Forget Henry Buckmeyer. She penned her missive to her sisters, addressed to Rebecca alone.
They’d all want to know about Susannah Ruth. Wouldn’t do for Rebecca or any of the others to name a baby after their mother, and her older sister would surely be proud to share a middle name with her new niece.
Sooner or later, she’d have it out with her daddy and… And what? Make him forgive her for running off?
Had anyone come calling on Gwendolyn? Mercy, she’d be sixteen now, plenty old enough if some hairy-legged galoot—as Mama May called the male of the human species.
The poor young man would have to have guts enough to get past her daddy and the rangers. She had to give Caleb that, he’d had guts.
The Golden Dragon and its China Doll often haunted her dreams. She guessed she’d never know the whole truth, but chose to believe her husband had been way more good than bad, and just suffered from one bad decision that cost him his life.
That night in the cabin, now shared with his young partner, Jethro lay in his bunk listening to the boy sleep like the baby he was. The fellow’s way with machines amazed him more every day.
Turning Jethro’s drawings into the real deal that worked even better than he’d planned, yet so downright dumb in so many other areas.
Almost made him want to go see the young woman for himself. To hear the boy and Moses tell it, Mary Wheeler was about the prettiest female that ever graced the streets of San Francisco. No way the Texas lady’s matched Meiko’s beauty.
Hopefully, Mary lacked the black streak running through the woman’s heart.
Although it seemed she was doing everything she could not to hurt the boy, but maybe that was her game. Lead him along then drop the anvil on his heart, get him to sell her his share of the mine and store to her for a little of nothing.
Was she that cruel?
Did she know the whole truth about her worthless husband? About him and Lanelle?
Hell hath no fury, wasn’t that what the Bard claimed? Or was that some other dead guy? Or a scripture Moses read him? He hated English Literature, hated school period, except for engineering.
Go back east, that’s what he should do. Patent some of his inventions, but that wouldn’t do. Meiko was here, and while he couldn’t stand being in the same town, for a fact, he couldn’t bear the thought of going any farther away from her.
One day…
Then as if his heart hated him, he slipped back into her mother’s red satin-draped parlor, sipping that horrible tea the old lady swore by.
Each night for a week, he dreamed of those days with the oriental beauty, relived them in the greatest of detail, then inevitably, he’d jumped to that last night. He’d followed her, but just as he pushed her door open, his eyes rebelled.
He bolted upright in bed.
As most mornings after breakfast and necessaries, Moses caught up with him as he climbed toward the mine. His partner bumped his shoulder. “Our new partner said you been hollering and carrying on in your sleep again.”
“Elijah talks too much.”
“The Bible says the truth will set you free.”
“Don’t start. I’m not going to see her.”
“Well, Lanelle wants to go to town sometime in the next few days. She’s thinking maybe she’s got another month or so, but isn’t sure.”
Jethro bit his tongue. Lanelle had been about the best thing ever happened to his friend, and the man didn’t need any snide remarks from him.
Still he couldn’t help but think it odd that his friend’s wife couldn’t remember exactly when she slept with her cousin. Seemed like it must have been a pretty regular thing if she had no idea when they made the baby.
“So you’re figuring to be gone a month or more? Let Elijah know a day in advance when you want to go. Don’t want him forgetting anything for his list.”
“We could shut the mine down, and all of us take a holiday. Lord knows we sure could stand some lazy days, waiting for my baby to get here.”
“And what would we come back to, a bunch of claim jumpers robbing us blind.”
Moses shot him a smirk, then picked up a powder keg and balanced it on his shoulder. “You ready?”
Not really, but working the mine gave Jethro some respite. Couldn’t daydream about her and do his job, leastwise not most of the time.
However, Meiko refused to be denied that day. After too many to count hammer blows, he laid out the first fuse line, and she stayed close, looking over his shoulder, then followed right behind Moses as the big oaf got himself to safety.
He lit the line of black powder and hurried outside. He eased to the ground and closed his eyes. There, just out of his reach, she smiled at him, same as she had for those three weeks. Why couldn’t he get that black-hearted woman out of his soul?
He extracted his pocket watch and studied the spinning little half-wheel marking the second’s fractions, held the brand new gold timepiece out. “It’s been five minutes.”
“We’ll give it another ten.”
Keeping a close eye on the wheel provided a bit of relief; the whirling, pause, back and forth the little piece of gold spun, marking the splits. He loved clocks and watches and any other mechanical means of measuring time.
Once thought he’d spend his life building them, seeing how close he could get to perfection, but wasn’t to be. He needed physical labor and hated sitting a workbench all day.
Checking the time again, he held the watch out. “Been another ten.” He stood. “I’ll go relight it.”
Moses jumped in front of him. “I’ll go.”
“No, sir. You’re a married man now. It’s a dud. I twisted the fuse, and I’ll go fix it.”
“Jethro Risen, you’re a heathen. If—God forbid—it did go off unexpected like, then you’d roast in hell’s fire for all of eternity. Couldn’t live with that on my shoulders. Me, on the other hand, I know exactly where I’m going when I leave this world.”
Jethro stared at his friend: seemed his partner had used this I’m-saved-you’re-going-to-hell excuse every time the powder didn’t blow. “We’ll give it another ten minutes.”
Moses patted his shoulder. “If it was going to blow, it would have by now.” He smiled then strolled into the mine.
Like hell’s demons had waited for that exact second, the ground trembled and pitched. The powder exploded, spewing dust and gravel out the opening.
Jethro rushed in. The smoke choked him.
He dropped to his knees, pulled his shirt up, and breathed through the cloth.
He found Moses lying flat out on his back, covered in blood and sparkling pieces of crystal and gold nuggets, not twenty feet up the main shaft.
Chapter Ten
“Someday you’ll understand.”
Her mother’s words filled her heart. Now she understood exactly, though before having her own, she could never have realized how very much love a mother could have for her daughter. She tickled little Susannah’s cheek.
Her baby girl sucked one more little drink then stopped. Mary smiled and snuggled her in tight, then closed her own eyes.
Did her mama know about her little namesake? Bible mentioned a great cloud of witnesses; would one of them pass on the news? Maybe Sue Abbott Baylor made that group. Or would the Lord himself let her know?
Dozing off, she hoped it might be true, but either way, one fine day, she’d be reunited with her sweet mama. And Susannah would meet her, too. What a wonderful plan for reconciliation God had created for humankind.
Miss-Mattie-sized footfalls echoed from the stairs and mixed into her dream before a light tap on her door opened one eye. The old dear stuck her gray head in, illuminated by the oil lamp she carried.
“Mary, are you awake, dear? Jethro Risen is here. He says he needs your help.”
She scooted up in bed. The mystery man himself needed her help? “Why? What could be wrong?”
“A terrible accident, it seems, but it’s Lanelle’s baby boy.”
&nbs
p; “We’ll be right down.”
Housecoat thrown over her gown, then her shawl over that, she scurried downstairs. Her cousin had a boy? How could it be the baby already came? She hadn’t been married long enough yet. Had the baby come early?
She joined the confab in the parlor. Mattie held her arms out, and Mary handed her baby Susannah then faced Mister Risen. “What’s this with Lanelle’s baby? Is something wrong with him? How can I help?”
“Guess her milk isn’t right. Miss Ling suggested maybe you could come and sent me to fetch you.”
“Of course.” But why would Lanelle be at the midwife’s? Why hadn’t she come here? “Mis’ess Wingate mentioned an accident? What’s happened?”
Mattie touched her arm. “I’ve got the baby, dear, and Virgil can run the store just fine. Do you want to run up and get ready?”
She focused. “Yes, certainly. The baby just ate, and yes…” She faced Risen. “Give me a minute to dress proper. Virgil, could you fetch our wagon?”
“No need, ma’am. I’ve got ours outside.” Jethro looked so troubled.
Just as the town was coming to life, the not so mysterious man reined his mules toward Chinatown. “Thank you, ma’am, for coming.”
“What else would you expect, sir? That’s what family does, helps each other. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course.”
With John gone off to who knew where, Lanelle was the only kin she had this side of Texas. “So what about the accident? What’s happened?”
“It’s Moses Jones. He…he, uh…well, we thought a fuse was a dud. But just as he got inside the mine to relight it, the ground shook, and it went off. He’s in bad shape. And well, then Lanelle went into labor.”
“Oh, no, dear Lord. Poor Lanelle.”
“We had to make her leave him long enough to birth the baby, but Miss Ling says it soured her milk. Poor little guy, he doesn’t look good.”
“Oh, Father have mercy. I am so sorry. When did all this happen?”
“Been four days now.”
“When was the baby born?”
“Yesterday morning.”
