Prospecting for Love

by Barbara Baldwin

  Now, her hand shook as she pinched out the flame. Only the tiniest bit of moonlight came in through the open window, and she could only hope the moon was waxing instead of waning. Despondent, she sat in a huddle staring into the shadowed darkness until her eyes blurred.

  Somewhere close to dawn, she collapsed from exhaustion. As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered how Elizabeth's father had gotten such fine furnishings across the mountains.

  * * *

  "Hey, you gonna sleep the day away?"

  Ellie squinted against the bright light coming through the window, groaning as she rolled over to bury her head under the pillow. She didn't want to put a name to that voice. Something prodded her in the arm and she swatted at it, but her hand met empty space.

  "Zeke told me to come see how you are."

  Oh, God, it was true. Ellie had hoped -- prayed even -- that the whole Peavine episode was only a dream. Though she had never before dreamed of ghosts and dropping through holes in history, or about a handsome miner named Jesse--

  "Enough!" She tossed her hair out of her eyes and abruptly sat up on the edge of the bed when Lucky continued poking her arm. Leveling her meanest look at the unfortunate man, she reached for her cigarettes only to remember she had smoked the last one in the dark last night.

  "Go away." Ellie wasn't a morning person, and used that as an excuse -- one of many -- for not marrying. She didn't want anyone to see her first thing in the morning; not before she'd had coffee and a shower.

  "Can't do that. Zeke told me to keep a close eye on you." Lucky squinted one eye as he spoke, staring at her with the other. "You sleep in your clothes?"

  Ellie glanced down at her wrinkled attire and decided his question didn't need an answer. "Do you know how to make coffee?"

  "'Course, I do. Any fool can make coffee."

  Ellie smiled, despite the early morning hour. She doubted Lucky even realized what he said. "Good. Make me some while I go take a shower."

  "Go where? You can't leave the house. Not a’fore Zeke gets here." Lucky shook his head and held his hands up to keep her on the bed. "Zeke says you'll just get yourself in trouble."

  Ellie couldn't debate even with Lucky this early and without a cup of coffee first; no matter how absurd his comments. "Where's the bathroom?"

  "The what?"

  Ellie sighed. Why was everything so difficult for him to understand? "I need to...brush my teeth and wash." She refused to tell even this man some things.

  "Where you come from, you got a whole room to do that sort of thing?" Lucky said in awe.

  "Lucky!" Her tone held a warning which even he was able to grasp.

  "There's a chamber pot under the bed and a wash basin right over there. And," he glanced around wildly, probably afraid she'd go after him if he couldn't give her what she needed. "I'm 'fraid you gotta take a bath in the kitchen. There's where the water can be pumped and heated and where the tub is." Before Ellie could yell at him again, he disappeared through the door.

  No shower? Ellie glanced skyward and wondered just how she was to survive any time at all, much less a month, without a shower. If this was a trial of virtue or some such thing to test her strength, she would fail miserably.

  Ellie's morning routine was sharply curtailed without the necessary facilities, but she managed the best she could. She had stripped to her underwear to wash, but when she picked up her jeans to put them back on, decided they were beyond wearing.

  A quick search of the room found a closet full of clothes, but no jeans. While Ellie had no aversion to wearing a dress, and did so quite often to attend the opera or opening night events in New York, she certainly didn't feel inclined to wear a dress for Lucky.

  The dressing table drawers were full of frills and lacy handkerchiefs. Ellie held up a pair of long undies, the legs full of row after row of lace.

  "Augh!" She tossed them aside. Next, she found a camisole, which wasn't bad, made of soft cotton without too much lace. In her time, these were bought with the express purpose of being sexy and enticing. Ellie had the feeling that in Peavine, Nevada, they were everyday wear.

  She heard Lucky banging pots and pans in the kitchen as she buttoned a navy skirt over the white blouse she had pulled from the closet. The skirt hit just above her ankles, and she wondered if anyone would notice that she must be taller than Elizabeth. She shrugged, then dropped to her hands and knees with her head in the closet looking for shoes.

  "Oh, no," she groaned as she plopped on her fanny. There were two pairs of lace-up-heeled boots neatly placed on the bottom of the cupboard where the clothes hung. No flats, no slip-ons, no tennies. Ellie's mouth twisted in consternation as she looked over to the edge of the bed where she had kicked her hiking boots.

  With a sigh of resignation, she tugged on a pair of the lace-up boots, grunting as her toes slammed into the end. Apparently, there was more than height where she and this Elizabeth person varied. Of course, she doubted anyone would notice the size of her feet. A trip to the clothes store was definitely in order.

  By now, the rich smell of coffee wafted through the house to Ellie's nose. She stumbled once finding her way to the kitchen when her skirts wrapped around her legs. Perhaps if she wore a slip beneath them, they'd not trip her up.

  When she walked through the door, Lucky's mouth dropped and the skillet he had been holding fell back onto the stove.

  "What?" Ellie was still aggravated with his wake up call so early this morning, and didn't need him staring at her. She found a cup and poured herself some coffee. "Ah," she sighed as the first mouthful of caffeine slid down her throat. Now, if she only had a cigarette.

  "You look real nice all gussied up, Miss Elizabeth," Lucky finally sputtered, then blushed and ducked his head, avoiding her glare.

  "My name is Ellie."

  "Well, you look and sound just like her, when you ain't swearing," Lucky sassed her right back.

  Ellie raised a brow, wondering where the reticent Lucky had acquired his nerve so early in the morning. Perhaps he had an independent streak after all.

  "But you gotta do something 'bout your hair; and get rid of that thing strapped to your wrist. We don't got them either."

  At his comment, Ellie glanced at her wristwatch. She yelped, "You woke me up at six in the damn morning."

  As though in response to her uncharitable attitude, a resounding blast rattled the window panes. Coffee sloshed in Ellie’s cup as her whole body shook. Before she could question, another boom echoed through the valley.

  “What the hell?” Ellie thumped her cup onto the table only to watch it shimmer and shake almost to the edge. She reached to catch it and everything stopped as suddenly as it started. She stood, arm outstretched, waiting.

  “You ain’t never heared dynamite blasts?” Lucky questioned and Ellie guessed her face gave her away.

  “Are they trying to blow up this house?” Her heart still thumped too fast.

  “Nope. That blast come from the Golden Fleece, if I heared right. That’s clear up the slope to Peavine Summit.”

  “How in he...heaven’s name do the people stand it? Don’t the walls tumble right in on them?” Ellie thought the noise and initial trembling was worse than the earthquake she had encountered in Chili several years ago.

  “Sometimes worse than others -- ‘pends on how deep the shafts are and how many blasts at the same time. I suppose if’n all the mines blasted at once, it would fair ring the trees bare of branches. Most days is spent hauling ore and shoring up the walls so they can dig some more.”

  Ellie shook her head in wonder. It seemed she’d better figure out a way to get home fast. She had no desire to be buried under a pile of rock if some match happy miner lit too big a fuse.

  "I'm going out."

  "You can't do that. Zeke said so," Lucky stated in a panic, waving the spatula at her like that was going to keep her in place.

  "Zeke's not my keeper," she stated, walking back down the hall, Lucky right on her heels. Knowing she'd never
get far if she couldn't get rid of him, she stopped and turned. He nearly smacked into her.

  "Lucky. I have to go to the bathroom and do something with my hair."

  He didn't move.

  She sniffed. "Is that your breakfast burning?" That sent him back to the kitchen in a hurry. Ellie used the time to escape through the front door. She'd worry about her hair later.

  Since it had been dark when they got to the house last night, she had no idea which way was which, but in glancing down the road, it appeared town lay to the right. Only Elizabeth’s house and one other faced the road she walked before she came to a cross street.

  She closed her eyes trying to recall the layout of the ghost town. So many of the buildings had fallen down over the years, and she was sure some hadn’t even been built in 1870. In fact, she couldn’t remember having seen Elizabeth’s house before last night, but then she hadn’t gotten too far afield that day before Zeke found her by the creek.

  Taking a chance, she turned and walked to the left. She figured Peavine couldn’t be that large and she could always backtrack. The buildings on the right side of the street were at least fronted by a sidewalk of sorts, so she stepped up onto the platform. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hoped this was all a big farce, and she’d step back into the ghost town where she started and would calmly wait to be rescued.

  She couldn’t help the sigh which escaped as she noticed the people out and about. There weren’t many; mostly men all wearing old fashioned typed clothes, but they were all gawking at her.

  She hoped, having eluded Lucky, that the store would be open because she suddenly felt uncomfortable out in the open. Mentally, she reviewed her list of supplies until a sudden thought struck her and she stopped in the middle of the walk.

  The bank sign across the street made her realize she was broke. How could she buy clothes and cigarettes with no money? She cocked her head and stared at the sign. Calhoun's Bank & Trust. Jesse had said Elizabeth's father owned the bank.

  Ellie had no idea where Mr. Calhoun was; he certainly hadn't spent the night at the house. However, she decided as long as she had to play-act as Elizabeth, she was entitled to her money; or her father's money. Whatever. She just hoped they had heard of ‘charge it’ here in the hills of Nevada.

  "Elizabeth?" Ellie didn't connect the name with herself until someone touched her elbow. Reflexes honed from living in New York made her jerk back and quickly turn around.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, but you seemed in a daze. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you left town." The suave gentleman standing in front of her came right out of a very old movie. Dark gray suit, white shirt with a starched collar and stick pin in his tie. He even had a handlebar mustache and a bowler-style hat which he swept off slicked back hair as he nodded to her.

  Ellie panicked briefly, wishing now that she had stayed put until Zeke had time to brief her. Who was this guy? How was he connected to Elizabeth? "Why would you think I left town?" She questioned out loud, hoping to glean some insight without giving the game away. Her question raised his eyebrows, and his explanation only slightly squelched her uneasiness.

  "That crazy old coot, Lucky, sat on your porch when I came to pick you up for dinner at the hotel. He said you had left on the stage because an aunt had died in Belmont. I didn’t realize you had any other relatives.”

  Ellie didn't like the insinuation in the man's voice and she definitely didn’t like his proprietary grip on her arm. She pried his fingers loose and took a step back. The conversation she'd had with Jesse last night echoed inside her head. This had to be Clayton Scott, the lascivious mine owner whom Jesse detested.

  While the man now respected the small space she put between them, there was still something about him that Ellie didn't trust. Too many years in the big city, she supposed. His slick looks and mustache made him out of place in Peavine, but he conveyed the perfect villain for a melodrama. Somehow that description fit with everything else Ellie had been experiencing.

  She decided to be cautious until she could find out more. She offered him a sugary smile and sorrowful words. "I realized too late that there was nothing I could do for poor Auntie, so at the first opportunity, I got off the stage. Fortunately, a farmer was heading for town to get supplies." Deciding to play on his sympathies, she sighed before adding, "There's just so much death...you know." She looked at him from beneath her lashes.

  The man immediately took her hand and patted it. "My poor Elizabeth. It must have been extremely difficult thinking about attending another funeral when your father so recently--"

  Ellie's gasp cut him off, and she knew her expression couldn't have been any more genuine if she were actually Elizabeth. Her eyes opened wide. Elizabeth's father was dead? Could his death be related to the trouble shadowing Jesse? Panic squeezed the breath out of her. What had she gotten into -- murder and mayhem?

  She pulled her hand out of his clammy one and said without thinking. “I think I should get back home. I need to see Jesse.” As she turned to go, he grabbed her arm.

  “I don’t want you around him.”

  Ellie quickly thought over what Zeke had told her. “We are supposed to be engaged, after all.”

  “You know that’s just a sham. Before I left New York, you had promised yourself to me.” He stepped closer and Ellie could smell his cologne -- a cloying musk. “In fact, you had already given me much more than a promise.”

  Oh, boy -- murder, mayhem, and sex! Definitely things Ellie hadn’t counted on. She didn’t know the complete story and doubted that Zeke did either. Even so, she took a gamble. “If you want things to work out, you have to give me some space, and time.”

  “Time?” The man sounded incredulous. “You’ve been back over eight months. That’s more than enough time to convince Jesse--”

  “Morning, Miss Elizabeth.” Their conversation was interrupted by an old miner walking by.

  Clayton glared at the intruder; Ellie smiled and nodded.

  “I’m coming over tonight,” he whispered.

  “No.” When he gave her a suspicious look, she hastily added, “Zeke and Lucky are sticking close for some reason. We need to act...innocent. Let things settle for a bit.”

  She could tell he didn’t think much of her idea, but knew she couldn’t let him near her. “Besides, I need to convince Jesse--” She let the sentence hang, hoping he’d finish the cryptic line he had started, but he just scowled.

  “Fine, but if this takes much longer, I have a plan of my own that’ll get the job done much quicker.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but turned and strolled across the street to the bank without a backward glance.

  Ellie gapped after him, stunned at what he had revealed. She rewound the conversation and played it over in her mind. Actually, he had said very little, but insinuated a lot. They definitely had a plot hatched, and while Ellie didn’t think Elizabeth had anything to do with her own father’s death, she didn’t put it past Clayton Scott.

  She shook off the morbid shadow and decided she would have to discuss what she had learned with Zeke and Lucky after she got her supplies. Regardless of not wanting to be here, she had been drawn into their lives, and she couldn’t walk out of this make-believe town and leave them in the lurch. Damn it, she was just too soft hearted.

  Fortunately, though still early, the door to Murphy’s Mercantile and Feed Store opened beneath her hand. A bell tinkled overhead as she entered. She stood just inside the door, amazed at the sight which greeted her. Only once before, in a tiny hamlet in the mountains of Switzerland, had she ever come across a store that contained anything and everything needed for survival, and then some.

  Bolts of cloth and all manner of clothes lay on tables; pots and pans, shovels and hoes hung from hooks overhead. Dried legumes filled bushel baskets on the floor. One side of the room stored barrels labeled pickles, whiskey, molasses, and vinegar. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling and contained everything from coffee, spices and wine to j
ars and tins of food.

  Since there weren't any other customers in the store at the moment, Ellie quickly moved to the clothes. A cursory glance at the inside waistband revealed no sizes, so she held up pants to find something that might fit. She had grabbed a few pairs of tan jeans and two flannel shirts before she realized that not only were there no customers in the store, there was no clerk either.

  She tilted her head. There -- she heard humming. Someone was here; just in the back someplace. Strangely reassured, she scurried from area to area, grabbing things she thought she would need. She couldn't find any cigarettes, but found pouches of tobacco and papers.

  "This is getting to be a real experience," she muttered under her breath.

  "Elizabeth. My goodness sakes, you're out and about quite early this morning." The chipper voice soon attached itself to a body as a young, brown-haired woman came through a curtained doorway. "We normally don't see you until afternoon."

  Ellie rolled her eyes. It appeared that she and Elizabeth actually did have something in common. Unfortunately, it wasn't knowledge of who all these people were. Ellie began to wonder how she'd fake her way through another conversation when Zeke came bursting through the doorway.

  "Morning, Miss Sarah." He grabbed the hat from his head as he hurried over to where Ellie stood. "Morning, Miss Elizabeth," he repeated the greeting just as politely, then under his breath lectured her. "I thought I told you to stay put."

  Ellie gave him a spiteful smile and replied sweetly, "It is a wonderful morning, Mr. Zeke. Why, I've already had a very delightful conversation with Mr. Clayton Scott." She took pleasure in seeing the shocked expression on his face before she turned back to the counter where Sarah stood.