by Sue Clifton
“You are very talented, Piper. Even with a pencil drawing, there’s so much realism to your work. What do you do with it once you’ve sketched it?”
Piper could not believe how comfortable she was with Zach watching her sketch. Usually, she put herself in a corner of the room at the back in her art classes, where no one could see her sketching or painting.
“I usually turn the sketches into oil paintings if I have one that particularly strikes my fancy, but my passion is a technique called plein-air. I mostly paint with oils, but I’ve used water colors, as well.”
“Oh, you mean you paint outside while looking at what you’re painting…like Claude Monet. I’d love to see your sketches. That is, if you don’t mind.” Zach reached for her sketchbook. “May I?”
Piper, who usually hesitated to share her sketchbook, surprised herself by closing the book and handing it to Zach. “So do you have other old pictures of Bar None?” She reached for Zach’s notebook. “May I?” She put emphasis on the word “I.”
“I have a few, all in black-and-white, of course. They’re old pictures, but I do have a few recent ones, in color, that I got off the Internet.” Zach handed his notebook to Piper. “You’re welcome to look. Don’t mind my scribbled notes.”
Piper unzipped the notebook and perused, glad she was a speed reader and could read the notes Zach had scribbled for each picture. They were numbered to correspond with his notes, allowing her to focus on relevant ones. She absorbed the picture of the town Zach had shown her, remembering details from her dream.
The picture came alive on the page as she compared it to her dream. She could see the people dressed in period clothing bustling in and out of the buildings. Her focus centered on The Nugget, and in her mind, she saw the two young lavishly dressed Oriental ladies standing on the porch. Piper leaned toward Zach, who was totally engaged in her sketchbook, and held the picture in front of him.
“Zach, what is The Nugget? Is it what I think it is?”
Zach took on a serious look. “If you think it’s a brothel, or a bordello, you would be correct. It was also the local saloon—saloon downstairs, bordello upstairs and in the back. Aren’t those young Chinese ladies beautiful? They look like China dolls. And I bet they are as fragile as they look. What a shame.”
“But why Chinese girls? They can’t be more than teenagers…or in their early twenties, maybe. And their dress is so wrong. They should be covered in beautiful Asian prints, like petite China dolls, and not be forced to look like…like what they obviously are. Even geishas, who I know were Japanese and not Chinese, exhibited beauty and an almost purity, and never gaudiness.”
“That was the point. The madam, Isabelle Ezell, supposedly bought the girls from a dealer, or I should say a kidnapper, from San Francisco. The young girls were stolen from their homes in China, or possibly bought outright from their parents, who obviously did not love their daughters. The girls did not speak English and had no family or friends to save them. They were at the mercy of the madam.”
“That is so awful, so painfully sad!”
Piper put the picture back in her lap. Her thoughts returned to her dream. She remembered the emptiness in the young girls’ eyes. As if they were robots, going about their work without feeling or emotion, forcing smiles as men approached the porch where they stood poised. One of the girls, in particular, had caught Piper’s eye in another recurring dream, and she had meant to sketch the girl by herself but had not.
Once she had completed her sketch of the town scene, the dreams stopped. Wanting the dreams to stop, Piper usually sketched the scenes lingering in her subconscious as soon as possible. But this tiny beautiful China doll still invaded her dreams, even in Salt Lake City the night before, and Piper knew she would sketch her as soon as she got to Bar None and could talk to her mother. For some reason, she did not want the dream to stop. She needed to see and know more about the girl. Her haunting eyes came to mind again as Piper shut the notebook and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the window.
Mom will understand. She’ll help me deal with this.
Zach continued looking through the sketchbook, marveling at the talent of his newfound friend, wondering whether it truly was fate he and Piper shared side-by-side seats and headed to the same exact location in this small plane. He couldn’t understand the strong feelings he had for Piper but found them comforting, as if he had found the soulmate he had been searching for the last few years. He thought he had found such a person not long ago, but it was a false illusion, one with dire consequences that still haunted him.
Zach shook himself out of his thoughts and glanced over at Piper, whose eyes were closed. He took advantage of the situation to stare at her. He wanted to pull her to him and rest her head on his shoulder, all the time kissing the eyelids covering those tantalizing emerald eyes. But he knew his wishes were premature, and the timing was not the best. But then, timing was not something that could be planned.
Piper opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m not asleep. Just thinking about those poor girls and about my dreams.”
“Dreams? You’ve had more than one dream about Bar None?” Zach closed Piper’s sketchbook.
“Yes.” Piper hesitated, afraid disclosing her dream would sound like a fairy tale—a fairy tale that might have Zach running away from her. “I know this will sound preposterous, Zach, but I’ve seen that tiny girl in more than one dream. I need to talk to Mom. She’ll help me come to grips with all of this. She knows how I’ve fought any possibility of having the Gift she and my aunt have.”
“Do you plan to sketch the girl?”
“No. If I sketch her, she won’t visit me in my dreams anymore.” Piper looked at Zach, wondering if he thought she was crazy. “But I do plan to paint her. This will be like plein-air with my eyes closed.” Piper gave a little laugh. “I may be inventing a new technique—painting from a recurring memory. But we have to get to Bar None first.” Piper smiled with the knowledge they were going to the same place.
“Speaking of which…I’m renting a Jeep for the trip. The roads are pretty rough going in. Why don’t you ride with me?” Zach paused. “That is, if no one else is picking you up at the airport.”
Piper smiled. “That is very kind of you to offer, but I, too, have a Jeep reserved.” Piper looked away a second before returning her gaze to Zach. “Besides, how do I know you’re not some hardened criminal? You know, Ted Bundy was a fine-looking specimen of a man, too.”
“Thank you…I think.” Zach frowned at Piper, reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and took out two pieces of identification. “Here.” He handed his driver’s license to her. “Do you see I am who I say I am?” He pointed to the other ID. “And here’s my BYU faculty ID, as well.”
Piper looked at the picture ID and back at Zach as if doing a mental comparison.
“Well, I guess it will be okay.” She smiled. “I plan to call Harri, my aunt, when I get to Idaho Falls, and let her in on my surprise visit. I just hope she answers the satellite phone they’re using, and not Mom. Cell phones don’t work there. Harri usually answers since she talks to her staff often in her business back in Tennessee. I’ll make sure to tell her I’m riding with you…just as a precaution.” Piper grinned and handed the two ID cards back to Zach. “We can make it to Bar None tonight, but it will be late.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harri could not contain herself after talking to her niece. This would be a difficult secret to keep from her sister, but she could not wait to see the look of surprise when Piper showed up at the front door of Cole Springs Hotel later that night. She began scheming ways to keep Cayce up late.
Cayce had just started watching the rest of the footage from Harri’s videoing at the cemetery when there was a knock at the back door. She opened it to discover Charlie holding two Ziploc bags bulging with fresh, cleaned trout.
“Woo, Charlie! Those are some beautiful trout…just right for pan-frying.” Cayce backed up for Charlie to come in, but h
e didn’t move.
“Cayce give to Harri. Tell her Charlie Chocolate catch.” Charlie held the bag out to Cayce, but made no move to come inside.
“You can give them to her yourself, Charlie. She’s in the kitchen, and from the smells coming from there, you came at just the right time.” Cayce stood to the side, but Charlie still did not step forward. He peeked around the doorframe and looked inside the hotel.
“Charlie not like black Belle. Charlie not like black fog neither.”
“The room is clear, Charlie. We haven’t seen Belle or the fog, and we’ve been here a couple of days.” Cayce motioned for Charlie to come in. “Don’t be scared. You’ll be safe here with Harri and me.”
Reluctantly, Charlie stepped across the threshold, holding tight to the bags. He glanced around before taking another step and repeated this maneuver as he inched his way toward the kitchen. Taking one last look behind him, he raced ahead, high-stepping all the way to the kitchen. Harri was bent over, taking something from the huge oven.
“Charlie catch trout. Harri make chocolate gravy?” Charlie held out the bags to the still-bent-over Harri. She stood up and turned around in full smile.
“Oh, my!” Harri took the bags of clean trout. “These are wonderful! There are enough trout here for a crowd of people.” She put the bags in the refrigerator. “You bet, we’re gonna have chocolate gravy, and fried trout, and Nanny’s French fries, and big, fluffy biscuits. How does that sound?”
“Charlie like ever’thang chocolate. Charlie like biscuits and fry taters.” Charlie lifted his head and sniffed. “Charlie smell chocolate?”
Harri got her cooking mitts on and turned back to the oven, taking a pan out. “Granny Lou’s brownies!” she announced as she turned around.
Charlie clapped and gave his wonderfully goofy laugh. Harri and Cayce laughed with him, with Harri giving one of her wholehearted snorts like she did when she was really tickled.
“Charlie like brownies, Harri.” Charlie circled the counter and put his nose close to the pan of brownies and gave a big sniff. “Charlie eat now?”
“We need to let them set for just a few minutes, and then we’ll have some sweet tea and a brownie.” Harri motioned toward Charlie’s head. “You want to take your hat off? It will be a few minutes before we can eat brownies.” Harri held out her hand for Charlie’s hat.
Charlie cut his focus up at the hat’s brim, looking cross-eyed. He held his gaze on the brim for a few seconds and looked back at Harri. Then he repeated the look before reaching up and prying the hat off his head using two hands.
“Charlie hold hat.” Charlie held it to his chest like a golden treasure.
Cayce was surprised at how thick Charlie’s hair was. She’d figured it would be thin because he always wore the old felt hat, especially the way he kept it tight on his head. His hair was brown with hints of gray and was cut short over his ears.
“Who cuts your hair, Charlie?” Cayce asked, figuring Charlie would say Teesh.
“Secret.” Charlie whispered the word and put his finger to his lips. “Charlie eat brownie now, Harri? Him got good blower.” Charlie made blowing sounds with his lips, making Cayce laugh and Harri snort.
“Okay, Charlie. Let me get the iced tea ready. You can go in the bathroom and wash your hands. Do you know where it is?” Harri pointed back through the parlor.
Charlie acted nervous, and Harri knew Charlie was scared to leave the kitchen.
“I tell you what.” Harri turned the faucet on in the sink. “You can wash your hands in the kitchen sink.”
Charlie rushed to the sink as if afraid Harri would change her mind. He stuck his hat under his arm and clasped it tight against his body before he held his hands under the spigot, rubbing them together and even cleaning under his nails, which were already clean. Harri got a towel out of the drawer and placed it beside the sink, while Cayce took out three glasses and filled them with ice.
“Let’s sit here at the bar and eat our brownies.” Harri put a brownie on each of three dessert plates and set them on the bar. Charlie climbed onto the stool in the middle. His short legs dangled under the bar, and he swung them as he stared big-eyed at the brownie.
Cayce picked up her brownie and started to take a bite, but Charlie stopped her by folding his hands under his chin, ready to say a prayer. Cayce and Harri bowed their heads and closed their eyes like their guest.
“Charlie thank Jesus for brownies. Charlie like chocolate. Amen.”
Cayce and Harri repeated “Amen” through their smiles.
Before any of the three could take a bite, they heard the front door slam and footsteps coming toward the kitchen. Charlie became nervous, stuffed the whole brownie in his mouth, and headed for the back of the kitchen, pulling his hat tight over his ears again.
“Wait, Charlie!” Cayce headed to the back corner to stand by Charlie. “It’s probably someone we know.”
“Anybody home?” Hank yelled before entering the kitchen. “Something smells good.”
“Come on in, Hank. We’re having brownies and sweet tea with Charlie,” Harri called. She motioned for Charlie to come back to the bar, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Hank, have you met Charlie?” Cayce had Charlie’s arm and led him back toward his stool.
“No, I haven’t officially met Charlie, but I think I’ve seen him at the edge of the woods. I’m Hank. Pleased to meet you, Charlie.” Hank held out his hand to Charlie, who ran past him to the counter and gulped iced tea while fanning his mouth. He wiped his tearing eyes on his shirtsleeve and then backed up next to Harri.
Harri took Charlie by the arm and redirected him to stand in front of Hank.
“Shake hands with Hank, Charlie, like the man you were taught to be.”
Reluctantly, Charlie shook hands with Hank, pulling his hand back after one quick, firm shake.
“It’s okay, Charlie. I’m a friend.” Hank tried to put Charlie at ease. “You were watching the day my worker fell off the roof, weren’t you?”
Charlie stood by his stool and reached for the second brownie Harri had just put on his plate. He took a small bite this time, but he chewed fast when he discovered it was only slightly warm. Before he finished, he spoke through a mouthful. “Charlie see black fog on roof. Charlie not like black fog. Charlie not like black Belle, neither. Black fog make man fall.” Charlie covered his eyes with his hands. “Charlie cover eyes so black fog not see him.”
“You saw the black fog make my worker fall?”
“Charlie see.” Charlie cocked his head and looked from under his hat brim at Hank. “Man die?”
“No, he will be fine, but it gave him and me a good scare.” Hank looked at Cayce and Harri. “What did the fog look like, Charlie?”
“Charlie not look. Charlie not like black fog. Charlie not like black Belle, neither. Fog go round and round man like this.” Charlie stood and twirled around with his arms out. “Charlie cover eyes so black fog not see.” Charlie pointed to the other brownies on the plate. “Charlie take brownie to Teesh now?”
“Of course you can. I’ll wrap up enough for you and Teesh.” Harri took the brownies from the bar and placed them on the counter.
“Whoa! Aren’t you forgetting someone, Harri?” Hank reached for the biggest brownie on the plate. “Now you can wrap them up.” Hank ate the brownie in two bites.
“Charlie, I’m going to send a letter to Teesh. I’ll cook the trout tonight, and I want Teesh to come. Will you take the letter to her?” Harri reached into the drawer and pulled out a writing pad and began writing.
“Charlie take letter. Charlie and Teesh eat chocolate gravy and biscuits.” Charlie nodded his head. “Charlie like chocolate. Charlie Chocolate.” Charlie pointed to himself and began laughing, and the others followed his lead.
Harri put the letter in an envelope and handed it with the baggie of brownies to Charlie, who moved gingerly toward the door. He stopped, peeked around the door facing, and made a fast dart to the back door. He was out
side before anyone could say goodbye.
“Fascinating little dude, and likeable. He’d watch us for hours, but wouldn’t come near the work site. I’m glad I finally got close enough to introduce myself.”
“And now you know what your worker saw just before he fell,” Cayce added.
“Yes, and that’s a good thing.” Hank looked toward Harri and smiled. “Did I hear something about trout and, if I heard right, chocolate gravy, whatever that is?” Hank smiled even bigger, hoping for an invitation.
“Are you staying tonight, Hank?” Cayce asked before Harri could answer Hank, and then wished she could take back the question when she saw Harri’s mischievous grin.
“Yes. I’ll be here for a while. My crew is coming off the trail tonight and will start back to finishing up The Nugget tomorrow. Should stir up some activity for you, but I hope nobody gets hurt this time.” Hank left the stool and fixed himself a glass of tea.
“Where will they stay?” Harri asked the question Cayce wanted answered. Neither of the sisters wanted to share the communal bathroom with strangers—especially men.
“Don’t worry, Harri. They’re setting up camp in the valley, between town and the cemetery.” Hank took a big gulp of tea. “That is, if Peg will let them. It’s pretty near her old cabin.” Hank looked at the sisters as if gauging their reaction. “They’re okay with the saloon music that sometimes echoes through the canyon, but they’re just a little afraid of Peg.”
“Well, you’re welcome to eat with us, Hank. There just won’t be enough for the whole crew.”
“Thanks, Harri. I look forward to it. The crew fends for themselves anyway. The only one not camping is Bill. He has a place somewhere close enough to come and go. You’ll meet him tomorrow.” Hank headed for the door. “And don’t you two worry about having to share the showers with me. There’s a finished bathroom in Belle’s living quarters. I’ll use it. I would stay there, but the bedroom isn’t furnished yet. I think Joshua wants you ladies to help with the finishing touches of that, including choosing the wallpaper.”
