Authors: Beverly Jenkins
“Never mind who told me. Is it true?”
Eyes downcast, they nodded like condemned men again.
“I thought you'd learned your lesson the time you used lamp black to give her new eyebrows and a mustache.”
Thinking back on that, Rhine's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. They'd altered her appearance one night while she'd been asleep. When she got up the next morning and glanced at herself in the mirror, she'd screamed at the sight of the heavy black brows and mustache. Mary had been none too happy and neither had Rhine, but once he reached home, he and Jim laughed until they cried.
“No peppermints today,” Edgar said sternly. He always rewarded them with peppermints for good behavior. They looked crestfallen.
Rhine said, “See what happens to pranksters? Let's hope you've learned your lesson this time.”
Edgar shook his head. “Be glad you don't belong to me, because if you did, you'd have to get your haircuts standing up.” He held out the cloth bib that would be fastened around their necks. “Who's first?”
On the ride back to the orphanage they were uncharacteristically silent. Rhine wondered if they were thinking about the error of their ways. Micah, who had a small scar over his nose that allowed Rhine to tell them apart, asked, “Do you think if we stop playing pranks we could get a new pa?”
For a few moments Rhine assessed him silently. Turning back to his driving, he said, “I don't know, Micah.”
“We really miss our old one,” Christian said.
Rhine's heart twisted. Their mother died giving them life, leaving their father to raise them alone. So far the only kin Mary had been able to find was an aunt in Reno who had five children of her own and couldn't or wouldn't take in her nephews. The aunt said there was a brother living somewhere near St. Louis, but he'd yet to be located. Rhine was reminded of his own futile search for his sister Sable. He also knew how it felt to want a new father because he'd desperately wanted someone other than Carson Fontaine his entire life. “I'm sure Mary will find someone. You just have to give it time.” He had no idea if his response would ease their worries but he didn't know what else to say.
Upon arriving at Mary's, he watched as they climbed the steps to the porch. Before going inside they waved. He waved back, noting how quiet and empty the Rockaway seemed now that they were gone.
Am I growing too attached to them?
Once the door closed behind them, he thought maybe he was, but knowing there was no way for him to be anything other than a visitor in their lives, he headed to the saloon, and Eddy Carmichael immediately filled his mind. He wondered how she'd spent the afternoon but quickly pushed the question away. In a little over an hour he'd be meeting his fiancée Natalie and her parents at their home for dinner. Afterwards he'd drive them to Piper's Opera House for an evening of entertainment. Natalie was the woman he was supposed to be thinking about, not the one draped in his dressing gown and lying in his bed.
T
o help Eddy pass the time, Jim added a few newspapers to the tray of light fare he brought up for her lunch, and she was grateful. But once she finished both the food and the papers, boredom returned and she spent the rest of the afternoon willing the clock to move faster. She was tired of being alone, tired of the stifling heat, and ready to move to Sylvia Stewart's boardinghouse. Also vexing her was wondering where Rhine Fontaine might be, what he was doing, and who Natalie might be. None of the questions had answers of course, nor were the questions any of her business, so she turned her mind to other unanswerable questions, such as: What would it be like living in Virginia City, how long would it take for her to save enough money to continue her journey to California, and would she see Rhine Fontaine again after she moved to Mrs. Stewart's? Groaning over such futile musings, she fell back against the feather mattress and willed herself to sleep away the rest of the afternoon.
But sleep refused to come. Frustrated, she picked up
The Elevator,
a widely read Colored newspaper published in San Francisco, and was poring over it for the third time when a knock on the door sounded. “Come in.”
It was Fontaine and he asked, “How are you?”
“Doing well. You?”
“I'm fine. I need to get my clothing for this evening.”
She told herself the reason she was so pleased to see him had to do with how bored she'd been, but it was a lie. “Do you want me to sit in the hallway so you can get dressed?”
“Of course not. I can use one of the spare rooms.”
“You have spare rooms?”
He reached into the wardrobe and took out a black formal suit and a shirt. “Yes, two, in fact.”
She was puzzled by that. She'd seen the closed doors in the hallway but had no idea what lay behind them. “Then why didn't you put me in one instead of letting me take over your bedroom?”
“When Jim and I found you, you were so near death someone needed to be close by.”
“And after?”
He shrugged. “Purely selfish really. I enjoyed being with you.”
Her heart stopped.
With that, he reached back into the armoire and added a few more things to what he was carrying, like his shoes and what appeared to be a shaving kit. “Do you need anything?” he asked.
“No.”
And he was gone. Eddy fell back against the pillows.
Lord!
Yes, she needed to leave the premises as soon as possible. That he'd openly admitted to being equally drawn to her was as startling as accidentally touching a hot stove. Even though he impressed her as an honorable man, were she to stay even a day longer there was no telling where this might lead.
He returned a short while later, dressed and ready for his outing. The tailored black suit, the snow white shirt, jet black hair, and vivid eyes all added up to a man as alluring as a god. “Presentable?” he asked.
“Your tie's a mite crooked.”
He walked to the large standing mirror. Upon seeing nothing wrong with the tie, he glanced back at her in confusion.
“Just pulling your leg. You look fine.”
He chuckled softly. “You are not right, miss.”
She smiled in reply. In truth, she'd miss the few moments of light banter they'd shared. “So what is Piper's?”
“An opera house.”
“Fancy clothes for a fancy place.”
“Exactly.”
She wanted to ask the question foremost in her mind but didn't.
As if aware of her thinking, he volunteered, “And Natalie Greer is my fiancée. We're to be married in October.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
She told herself she wasn't saddened by that news because it was exactly what she needed to hear to put herself back on an even keel, but inside, she knew it was a lie. Taking him in all his fancy glory, she imagined what it might be like to be the one he was escorting to the opera house, even though she knew how foolish the thought was. “You don't want to be late.”
“I'll see you when I return.”
“Have a good time.”
“
W
hat is this about you finding a Colored woman out in the desert?” Beatrice Greer asked Rhine as they sat at the table in the grand dining room of the Greer mansion.
He waited for the Chinese maid to set down his plate and leave the room before replying. “She'd succumbed to the heat, so Jim and I brought her to town and left her in Sylvie Stewart's care.”
“Has she recovered?” her husband Lyman asked. Like Rhine, Lyman Greer was on the town council and an influential member of the city's Republican party.
“Not yet, but I'm pretty sure Sylvie will get her back on her feet.” And knowing what he did of Eddy, he was certain it wouldn't take long. Rhine had plans to travel to San Francisco the next day and he thought the trip would give him the distance he needed to get the determined little lady off his mind.
The next question came from Natalie. “Why on earth was she out there?”
“Apparently she was on her way to California, and the cad she was riding with robbed her, forced her out of the wagon, and drove away.”
“She's not a whore, is she?”
Rhine stiffened. Natalie's disapproving tone was mirrored on her face. When he proposed to her six weeks ago, he'd told himself marrying the twenty-Âyear-Âold, blue-Âeyed brunette beauty would give him the legitimacy he wanted for the life he'd planned, but the more he was around her, the more her true self came to the fore, and the more he questioned their compatibility. “She said she's a cook.”
“I hope she's not lying. More whores is the last thing Virginia City needs.”
Her mother glanced up from her plate and said pointedly, “Natalie, let's change the subject, shall we?”
“I'm only stating the truth, Mother.”
“But it isn't something good women discuss, dear.”
The 1859 discovery of the Comstock Lode with its rich veins of gold and silver brought miners to Virginia City from all over the world, and where there were miners there were whores. Eddy was a lot of things: fiery, stubborn, and hardheaded to a fault, but whore? No.
Rhine was glad when Lyman changed the subject by asking his wife, “Now, who are we going to see this evening again?”
“A singer named Herbert Gould.”
This was not the first time Beatrice had subjected them to one of her singing finds. Rhine just hoped he could sit through the performance without his ears bleeding.
Entering the opera house, Rhine saw that the auditorium was crowded as usual. All the well-Âto-Âdo in the area were in attendance: mine owners, local politicians, and businessmen were accompanying their wives to their high-Âpriced seats. Piper's Opera House could accommodate an audience of fifteen hundred. It was one of the most esteemed venues in the nation and built its reputation by showcasing everything from Shakespearean acting troops to world renowned singers. Infamous actor John Wilkes Booth appeared in the play
Apostate
only a month before assassinating President Lincoln. Mark Twain lectured from its stage in 1866. A deadly real life drama took place in 1871 when a vigilante mob muscled a murderer out of the town jail and hung him from the stage rafters. Rhine doubted tonight's offering would be that exciting.
He was correct. The singer he'd been planning to guard his ears against turned out to be a thin, mustached man reciting poems by Lord Byron. His high-Âpitched, nasal-Âtoned voice and overly dramatic presentation resulted in many of the men in the audience quietly excusing themselves from their wives and making a beeline for the smoking room in the back of the theater. Rhine and Lyman Greer joined the exodus.
On the ride home, Lyman Greer said to his wife, “I thought he was supposed to be a singer.”
“He is. He's all the rage back East but he has a case of the sniffles and didn't want to risk his voice.”
“Men don't get the sniffles, Beatrice,” he informed her drolly.
Rhine held onto his smile.
Natalie added in a petulant voice, “And I found it incredibly rude that you and Rhine left us, Father.”
“We didn't want to catch the sniffles.”
Finding that to be a perfect response, Rhine drove on.
When they reached the Greer home, Lyman and Beatrice thanked him and went inside but Natalie lingered. “So, how long will you be in San Francisco?” she asked.
“Just a few days. I'll be visiting my brother.” Andrew was now one of San Francisco's most prominent bankers.
“Will you be discussing putting the saloon up for sale?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
“No, because it isn't for sale.”
“I thought we agreedâ”
“
We
haven't agreed to anything,” he countered mildly.
“A member of the city council shouldn't own a place no decent person will enter?”
“My clientele are as decent as you and I. The only difference is the color of their skin.”
“You're making me a laughingstock.”
“You can always call off the engagement.” And truthfully, one part of him wished she would.
“And let another woman in town have a shot at the most handsome man in Nevada?” Her smile caught the moonlight. “I won't be crying off. I'm determined to change your mind.”
“And if you can't?” he asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant. For the past few weeks she'd been after him to sell the saloon, and she was as persistent as she was beautiful.
“I'm not worried. I always get my way. Now, give me a kiss before Mother comes out and starts fussing about me ruining my reputation by being out here with you in the dark.”
He complied, and when he broke the seal of their lips, she whispered, “I'm not letting another woman have your kisses either.”
He chuckled. “Come. I'll walk you to the door.” Once there, he said to her, “I'll see you when I return from San Francisco.”
She stroked his cheek with a gloved hand. “Good night, Rhine.”
He inclined his head and walked back to his rig. As he drove home through the lamplit streets his thoughts involuntarily swung to Eddy. He wondered what she would've thought of Herbert Gould. According to the few things she'd shared about her past, she'd been working since the age of twelve, which meant she'd probably never put on a costly gown, fastened a jeweled necklace around her throat, and been escorted to a place like Piper's. Unlike Natalie, who had parasols to match every gown in her armoire, inside Eddy's old carpetbag he'd seen a few well-Âworn blouses, two skirts with fraying hems, and three threadbare shifts. She'd also been wearing an old pair of boys' brogans when they found her in the desert. Although Natalie had more materially, there was an underlying strength in Eddy's character that Natalie would probably never have. He also sensed that Eddy knew the value of what it meant to own one's own business and wouldn't badger him to sell simply because of personal prejudice. He was on his way to take her over to Sylvia's. Even though that saddened him, he knew her leaving him was for the best.
He drove on, and as always the night air was filled with the constant drone of the mines' machinery housed along the base of nearby Mount Davidson. The noisy pumps that kept the tunnels free of scalding water that flowed below the surface joined the cacophony set off by air compressors and the enormous hoisters that ferried caged miners underground and brought the newly found ore to the surface, twenty-Âfour hours a day, seven days a week. Every now and then explosions echoed across the landscape from the black powder used to open up new veins that ran for miles around and below the city. Visitors and newcomers found the constant noise troublesome, but to men like Rhine whose wealth from the mines increased with each passing day, it was as soothing as a lullaby.
D
ressed in her worn white blouse and faded dark skirt, Eddy sat in one of the chairs in Fontaine's bedroom and waited for his return. Her carpetbag and brazier were at her feet. She was anxious to get to Mrs. Stewart's home so she could recover fully and begin this new phase of her life even as she wondered how his evening had fared and what the fiancée looked like. For the hundredth time she told herself neither question mattered and that she should be more concerned with what her future held. It seemed like only yesterday that she'd left Denver, but in reality more than a month had passed and here she sat in his bedroom. The difference in their races notwithstanding, he'd gone out of his way to show her nothing but concern and kindness. Once she got on her feet and saved up her money so she could resume her journey to California, she'd remember him fondly.
“Are you ready?” he asked when he entered the room a few minutes later.
“I am. How was the performance?”
“Awful.”
“I'm sorry.”
“No sorrier than I.”
She slowly pushed herself upright. Like this morning, she was moving easier but still not at a normal pace.
“Shall I carry you?”
“No.” As she picked her way to where he stood by the door, he watched and waited.
“I can get you a cane,” he said in a teasing tone.
“Ha, ha,” she tossed back, and yes, she'd miss bantering with him.
He crossed his arms. “You know the sun will rise in about eight hours.”
Finding it difficult to keep a straight face in the wake of his playful teasing, she countered, “Make yourself useful. Get my carpetbag and the brazier.”
He complied and made it back to the door as she continued moving at a snail's pace.
“You're perspiring, Miss Carmichael.”
“I'm fine,” she said, breathing heavily.
Apparently he didn't believe the lie because he set down the brazier and carpetbag and picked her up.
“Rhine. Put me down.”
“No. We want to get to Sylvia's tonight, not next week . . . ” He paused. “That's the first time you've ever used my given name.”