The man cursed and whipped his poor, bedraggled horse. He quickly disappeared in the night.
“Was that wise?” Virginia asked. “Won’t we need a ride back?”
“See, now, I’m already earning my keep,” Angus said. “A man like that you don’t want hanging around. He’s liable to think there are more gold coins in my pocket and to try to figure out how to get them all. Better he be gone from here and unable to do mischief.”
Virginia nodded. She followed Angus toward the brightly lit building. Men were leaning up against the walls outside, smoking. They catcalled Virginia, but she ignored them. One of them broke off from the others and faced Angus at the door.
“You’ve delivered her, little man,” he said, leering. “Now leave her to me.”
Angus didn’t say anything, just stared up into the man’s face. There must have been a message there that only the bigger man could see, because he blanched and moved to one side. “You’ll not be coming back out again,” he muttered. “You’ll see.”
“How do they ever make any money?” Angus asked into the air. “Driving away customers like this?”
Virginia followed Angus into the building, trying to seem demure and decorous—why, she wasn’t sure. Inside, she was tensing up. She sensed nothing supernatural here, only the aura of men who bought and sold women for their own pleasure. But she had never felt more in danger.
Angus appeared unperturbed. Despite his stature, he radiated something that kept other men from approaching them. There were four or five men for every woman, sitting at round tables, some of them eating or playing cards, most of them drinking. The volume of noise didn’t drop when Angus and Virginia entered, and it wasn’t as if everyone in the place turned to watch them. But all of the patrons took a peek at them at some point on their journey across the floor.
They think I’m his, Virginia suddenly realized. It’s the only thing keeping them away.
Angus’s aura worked all the way to the back of the place, where there was a room with a Dutch door where a heavily bosomed and made-up woman watched them approach, frowning.
“It’ll cost you a buck to come in,” she said.
Angus produced a one-dollar gold piece and tossed it into the woman’s cleavage.
Virginia held her breath, but the action seemed to break the ice. The woman threw back her head and laughed loudly, her fat jiggling. “What will be your pleasure?” the madam asked. “Perhaps your little woman wants to join in?”
Virginia blushed, aware that now all eyes were on her.
“I’m looking for a Mary Perkins,” Angus said.
The woman showed no sign of recognizing the name. “Listen, honey, whatever name you knew her by, she ain’t that now. We got Roses and Gingers and Angels and Kittys, but we got no Marys.”
“She’s got red hair and green eyes and freckles,” Virginia said.
The woman opened her mouth and then hesitated. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” Virginia said. “Virginia Reed.”
All expression dropped from the big woman’s face. She stepped back, opened the half door, and ushered them in. They went into a back room that was surprisingly staid and bourgeois. There were pictures on the wall of straight-laced men and women who bore a resemblance to the madam. Virginia had the sudden insight that no woman started out her life this way.
She’d seen it along the trail. Without a man, a woman was vulnerable. The lucky ones quickly remarried or had family to shelter them. A few strong-willed women were able to start businesses that it was acceptable for women to run, laundries or restaurants or hotels…or brothels. But most depended on the mercy of men, and sometimes there was little of that.
“Ginger…that is, Mary wanted me to give you these,” the woman said, bringing a stack of journals out of the back room. “It was the least I could do for her.”
“Where is she?” Virginia asked, her heart sinking.
“I don’t know,” the madam said. “She saved up her money, and she left. She’s the only girl to do that in all the time I’ve been here. But if you ask me, I’d look for her in the brothels in Portland or Eugene, because I doubt she’ll escape her past so easily. But then…maybe if she had friends…” She looked Virginia straight in the eye, and there was no challenge there, only genuine concern.
“She has friends,” Virginia said. “I would like to see her again, and I’m in a position to help her.”
“Well, God bless,” the madam said. “I hope you find her. But if that is everything, I’ve discharged my duty to Mary. My advice is to get away from here, the both of you. You don’t belong.”
Angus was already heading for the door. He opened it a crack and peered out. Then he motioned for Virginia to hurry. She picked up the journals and started out, then at the last moment turned back to the madam. “I wish…I hope…”
“Go, girl. It’s too late for me and every other woman here. Live your life, and try not to judge us too much.”
Virginia nodded. She slipped her hand into Angus’s coat and drew out his small bag of coins. She tossed it to the madam without a word and left the room.
“I hope we don’t need that money to get out of here,” Angus said as they walked through the crowded room. They were ignored. Apparently being taken into the back had made them acceptable.
They left the bright lights of the brothel and walked in the general direction of their hotel.
“Maybe we should have asked the coachman to wait,” Virginia said, though she didn’t really mind walking in the cool night air. It would take a couple of hours to reach their hotel on foot, but that was a small distance compared to most Virginia had had to travel.
“Why?” Angus said. “We have no money to pay the man.”
Virginia laughed. She reached out and hooked her arm through his. “I think I’m going to like you, Mr. Angus Porter. And I don’t care how formal you intend to be, I’m calling you Angus from now on.”
“Whatever you wish, Miss Reed,” Angus answered. He patted her hand, and they walked together down the darkened street.
Chapter Six
Portland, Oregon Territory, August,10, 1851
Dearest Frank,
As I feared, Mary has fallen onto hard times. She was not at the address given, but I still hope to find her and help her if I can.
I thank the Lord every day that you came into my life when you did. I was sure I was destined to be alone, for my virtues are not something that would attract most men. But you are not most men, Frank, and I cannot express my gratitude enough.
Mary left Ellen Meredith’s journals for me to read, and I have decided that, whether or not I find Mary, I will honor her request and investigate what happened on that fateful journey. The parents deserve to know what happened to their children. And I suspect, though I cannot yet prove the need for it, that the children deserve justice.
I will return home as soon as possible, dear husband. Keep me in your prayers.
Love,
Virginia
Virginia set aside the letter and picked up Ellen’s first journal. There were three books in total. The early pages were neat and tidy, but by the end of the third book, words were simply scrawled across the pages without regard for clarity or space. Most of the entries were simple recordkeeping, the miles traveled and the day-to-day activities. These passages Virginia merely skimmed.
She turned up the lamp so she could make out the small, crabbed lettering of the first entries. No doubt she’d have to pay the hotel more money for the profligate use of oil.
She had chosen the same hotel to stay in as on her last visit to Portland. The same supercilious clerk was behind the counter. However, he obviously remembered the generous gratuity Virginia had left and managed not to wrinkle his nose at her traveling attire. Also, Angus affected a posh English accent, which obviously impressed the clerk and got them two nice rooms on the first floor.
“I shall meet you for breakfast in the dining room, Angus,” Vi
rginia said at the door of her room.
“Aye, I’ll be there unless I’m sleeping,” he said.
Just the mention of sleep was enough to make Virginia sleepy, but after writing her daily missive to Frank—a practice she was determined to continue—she forced herself to sit and read through the account of the first few days of Ellen Meredith’s journal. She closed the book with a yawn and lay down, fully clothed, to rest her eyes.
A premonition of tragedy suffused the narrative, perhaps unwittingly. Certainly, Virginia recognized Jonathan Meredith as a monster, but whether he was a human monster or the other kind, she couldn’t yet tell.
She could learn so much more if she could find Mary and question her. As informative as Mary’s letter was, it seemed to Virginia that her words had only hinted at the tensions that had arisen among the travelers. From her own long journey across the continent, Virginia understood the rivalries, the resentments, the friendships made and broken on the long trip. But most women would never say anything about it. They were taught to accept whatever the men in their lives wanted.
Virginia had the impression that Ellen had seldom spoken her own thoughts aloud, instead saving her true feelings for her journals. But it was clear that the terrible events at the end of the journey were presaged by those early days.
Virginia closed her eyes, and it was as if she could see the children clearly, though she had never met them. She fell asleep to their playful laughter in her mind, and a sense of sadness followed her into her dreams.
***
Angus was already eating when Virginia came into the dining room early the next morning. His bowler hat was on the seat next to him, and his thinning hair was neatly combed. He stood up, blushing. “I’m sorry, miss. I couldn’t help myself. I had very little to eat yesterday, if you remember.”
“It is for me to apologize to you, Angus,” Virginia said as she realized that they had skipped meals the previous day, as was her habit when she was on the hunt. I’ll have to remember to be more thoughtful from now on if I’m to have a fellow traveler, she told herself.
She ordered a big breakfast, and Angus watched her with bemusement. “Thank God you have an appetite,” he said. “I was beginning to wonder if you were one of those women who are concerned about their shape and eat like birds.”
Virginia chomped on a piece of bacon and laughed. “Hardly. I eat as much as I please, but it never seems enough.”
Angus sat sipping his coffee, waiting for her to finish. When she dabbed her lips with her napkin and set it down, he asked, “What now, Miss Reed?”
“I would like to find Mary Perkins, if possible,” she said. “But I have no idea where to start.”
“I believe the madam of the…uh, establishment we visited yesterday was correct,” Angus said. “Miss Perkins will be someplace that is unsuitable for a lady such as yourself, no matter how brave. Let me do some searching of the likely spots. They’ll be easy enough for a man like me to find. You stay here and read those journals—yes, I saw your lamplight burning late into the night, miss.”
“Are you sure you won’t need my help?” she asked.
“Your presence would be a distraction,” Angus insisted. “I’d have to spend all my time defending your honor instead of searching.”
Virginia nodded, knowing he was right. It hurt her to think that Mary was in one of those places, and she wanted nothing more than to lead the poor girl out of her purgatory the instant she was found. But it was a man’s world; some women were little more than chattel. It wouldn’t be as easy as that, and Virginia would probably have to expend part of her gold just to secure the girl’s release, much less find her a secure home and position.
And so she remained at the hotel while her new companion investigated the wharfs and side streets of Portland.
Angus returned that night, unsuccessful. They met again in the hotel dining room.
“I do not believe she stayed in this town. Not one of these unfortunate women have heard of her,” he said.
Virginia eyed him. His hair was no longer neatly groomed; his clothing was askew. It is not for me to judge, she told herself.
“Perhaps she went back to Oregon City?” Virginia said.
“Not if she wanted to remain hidden. My guess is that she has moved on—gone someplace where she can lose herself. To Seattle, perhaps, or even San Francisco.”
“It would be unfortunate as well as ironic if we have come all this way only to find she is where we began.” Virginia felt her hopes start to fade. She’d known it was a gamble, but as a Canowiki, she had become accustomed to such long shots paying off. On the other hand, she wasn’t dealing with the supernatural here, but with a woman’s degradation
“If you are willing to wait another few days,” Angus offered, “I will travel to Salem, the next big town hereabouts. Perhaps I’ll catch wind of her there.”
“It will take me some time to finish Ellen’s journals,” Virginia said. “There is more there to read and understand than I expected. So I expect to stay here for another few days at any rate.”
“It is decided, then,” Angus said. “I will travel by coach tomorrow and return the next day. You can decide what further steps to take at that time.” He hesitated. Then he lowered his voice and said, “Have you noticed that the men at the table behind you are staring at you?”
Virginia resisted the urge to turn around to check them out. “Tell me about them,” she said calmly.
“Three men, rough looking,” Angus said in a low but conversational voice. He wasn’t looking behind her, so he had obviously been studying them before he spoke. “They feel dangerous to me,” he added. “I’ve learned to trust those feelings.”
How could I have missed them? Virginia wondered. Am I already depending on Angus too much?
“I must visit the ladies’ room,” she said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
The three men were sitting at a corner table, and Virginia dared a single long glance at them, memorizing their faces. She didn’t recognize any of them, but they were all staring back at her, appraising her brazenly.
Angus was right. There was something peculiar about them—and yet, they didn’t seem to be setting off the Canowiki in her, just the part of her that was a woman. When she reemerged, she still hadn’t decided what to do, and so was surprised to find herself walking over to them.
“Gentlemen,” she said, looking down on them. They looked surprised but not threatened, but then she saw them tense and she sensed that Angus was approaching. “I feel that you have been staring at me.”
“Beg your pardon, miss.” The speaker was nondescript: average in height and looks, with a short beard. He was older than the others, and she assumed at first that he was in charge. He was dressed in workman’s clothes, but they were of fine quality and they fit him well. A workingman with money, a rare combination. “If we stared at you, it was only because of your beauty.”
Virginia blushed despite herself. She rarely got compliments, though she knew that men found her attractive. She wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted. The men hadn’t done anything blatantly improper.
“Would you care to join us?” the man sitting in the center of the trio asked. He was unshaven, his hair unruly, but he seemed to have the best manners, for he stood up and motioned to the chair opposite him.
The third man was the biggest, clean-shaven, which was unusual in this town, and it appeared he had shaved his head as well. He had on a funny little bowtie, which his Adam’s apple weighed down. His neck seemed as wide as his head, and his shoulders threatened to burst through his shirt. Virginia almost dismissed him as mere muscle, and then caught the canny look in his eyes. He was the leader, she decided, though he hadn’t spoken.
“Do you have business with me?” she asked him bluntly.
The two other men turned to their leader, who nodded and finally spoke. “Indeed we do, Miss Reed,” he said. “Excuse us for not approaching you directly, but we weren’t
sure if you were the right woman. Nor did we wish to alarm you.”
He stood up, and the other men joined him. “I’m sorry we’ve been so rude,” he said, bowing slightly. “My name is Terrance Drake.” He pulled the fourth chair out from the table for her, but she continued to stand. “These are my friends, John Sims,” he pointed to the man with the unruly hair, and then to man in workman’s clothing, “and Martin Franklin.”
“What do you want of me?” Virginia asked.
“We’ve been sent by Mrs. Oliver Hoskins. She didn’t tell us for what purpose, Miss Reed. She said only that we were to follow you and bring you into her presence.”
Angus spoke up. “Follow her from where?”
Drake hesitated, as if looking for the proper words. “From where you have been searching.”
“Why would we come with you?” Angus demanded.
“Mrs. Hoskins told me to give you a message,” Drake said. “She said, ‘The apples in Oregon are even sweeter than we imagined.’”
Beside her, Angus scowled and began to speak, but Virginia reached out and lightly touched his arm. “We are ready to accompany you gentlemen,” she said. “If you have finished your meal?”
“Yes, Miss Reed. Right away,” Drake said.
Chapter Seven
Diary of Ellen Meredith
The Oregon Trail, April 29, 1845
The great adventure begins! There is a general uplifting of all our spirits. Our small party of God-fearing folk has joined a larger group, the largest, we are told, of the season. There are over a thousand souls and more than two hundred wagons of all shapes and sizes. Such numbers give us all a sense of safety as we travel into the wilds.
Because we arrived late, we were at the tail end of the exodus. While Jonathan prepared the wagon, the children and I climbed the high bluffs on the western side of the Missouri River and watched the first of the overlander wagons as they wound their way along the broad horseshoe bends. The white canvas coverings look like the sails of boats. It is easy to see why they are called prairie schooners. It was a glorious sight.
The Darkness You Fear Page 6
