Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

The stunned Gabe wordlessly opens the door for me, and I step into the house. I am immediately swallowed by a puff of smoke. I fight back a coughing fit. Waving smoke out of my face with one of my gloved hands, I move through the house to the dining room.

When I enter the room, two men are sitting at the table. Colonel Blair is sitting at the head and the murderous Samuel Blair is sitting next to him. Colonel Blair is leisurely puffing on a pipe as he reads a stack of papers by oil lamp. My stomach goes queasy as I watch Samuel spit chewing tobacco on the floor – the floor! It’s so completely nasty I simply stand there in shock.

Colonel Blair sees me first, and his eyes open wide. He immediately jumps to his feet.

“Ma’am,” he politely inclines his head.

Samuel follows his gaze, and his face pales. He, too, jumps to his feet.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I say, walking past them and to the windows. I throw them open. “It is a wonder you are both healthy with all this stale air.”

“Our apologies, it has been a considerable time since we have had the pleasure of a lady in our home,” Samuel says. His voice is as greasy as his hair. “It is an honor to have you stay with us.”

I can play the game as well as him. However, I have no desire to stay in the smoke-filled, tobacco-soiled home, especially with an ornery colonel, no matter how handsome, and his murderous uncle.

“You are too kind.” I look past him, smiling serenely at Colonel Blair. “Unfortunately, I must relay my regrets. Many of the children are still very ill, and I must return to them. I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality.”

I curtsy before leaving the room, all the while, carefully watching where I’m stepping to avoid the piles of chewing tobacco.

“James, you said she was a simple girl,” Samuel chastises his nephew. “That is no mere girl…”

I don’t stay to hear the rest of their conversation. As soon as I’m outside, I greedily breathe in fresh air. Gabe eyes me from the front yard inquisitively as I’ve reappeared so quickly.

I carefully descend the steps. “I could almost tolerate the foul smoke if it weren’t for the filthy remains of chewing tobacco everywhere,” I say quietly to him. “I don’t know how you and Rose stand it.”

He’s still deciding whether I’m friend or foe, but his eyes twinkle, even though he doesn’t smile.

“Old friend, Re-becca!” Henry shouts down the lane with his groupie dogs following behind.

“Henry!” I laugh, running to him, which wasn’t very fast considering the enormous skirts on my dress and the bouncing bustle. “Come and have dinner with me. Rose made some delicious smelling biscuits.”

Henry claps his hands and off we to the cabins we go, arm in arm. Gabe watches us with interest as we pass.

“What have you been doing?” I ask as we walk.

“Feedin’ horses,” he answers.

I nod. “Where are the horses?”

He points in the distance.

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” I tell him as we enter Rose’s cabin.

I’m grateful I’ve returned as quickly as I have when I see poor, little Ida trying to care for three crying children. I take two from her and begin feeding them their dinner. Some of the older, healthier children have returned and they crowd around Henry, teasing with him. Before I’ve even eaten my dinner, Rose walks into the cabin with a dress in her arms.

“Dis been done belong to Massa James’s mama,” she says. “He done tell me you should be wearin’ it ‘stead trousers.’”

“Thank goodness,” I say, taking the simple dress from her. “I need something I can work in.”

*     *     *

By the time night comes, I am completely and utterly exhausted. I have eaten little and slept even less, but I am so happy that the sickest children’s eyes are opening and they’re beginning to play that I simply sit and enjoy watching their parents come for them.

Every mother and father stops to thank Rose and me for caring for the children before taking a seat to enjoy the evening as well. Blankets are wrapped around tired bodies as everyone congregates around a bonfire to keep away the chill, but there is undeniable warmth in their hearts. Henry starts singing, and soon everyone joins in. I watch the scene unfold and think of Mama and her countless foster children. We were musical and would often spend family get-togethers singing and playing instruments. I think of Mamma’s favorite scripture from Psalms,
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice and sing praise.

“It’s too bad I don’t have my violin,” I muse to Henry as Rose sings a spiritual.

I’m so involved with the impromptu concert that I don’t notice Henry’s disappeared until he returns, carrying a dusty violin case.

“Massa James mama,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. I didn’t know Colonel Blair’s mother played the violin. Perhaps this was the reason he didn’t like hearing me play in the future, it reminded him too much of her? But this doesn’t make much sense because she died in childbirth, and he would have no memory of her.

“Can you be playin’ dat thing?” Rose asks as I open it. I look over the old violin.

“We’ll see what kind of condition it’s in,” I say, tuning the strings and tightening the bow. Once satisfied, I ask, “What would you like to hear?”

“Tenting Tonight!” Henry calls out the song he sang for me that morning.

Putting the bow to the strings, music fills the air. When I finish, there’s an animated applause. Everyone seems to have a request after that, and I play the ones I know. Before I realize what’s happened, it’s very late, and I’m yawning.

“One final request,” I say, fighting to keep my eyes open. This is when I notice Colonel Blair standing in the shadows. He quietly joined the party while I was playing.

“Play you favorite,” Ida says timidly next to me.

I think for a moment. It’s a difficult request. I always enjoy a challenge, and Mozart is certainly that. My favorite symphony of his fills the air. The group goes silent as my right hand rapidly pushes the bow back and forth and the fingers on my left hand rotate between strings just as quickly. When I finish, I’m breathing heavily. Everyone stares through the darkness in silence. Mozart’s definitely not their thing.

“I’m sorry; it’s been a long day,” I say as I put the violin back in its case, ignoring Colonel Blair’s gazing eyes. “Henry, you better return this violin to its owner.” I pass it to him before going into Rose’s cabin and crashing on the nearest bed.

Monday, March 8, 1875

I am so comfortable, I don’t dare to move for fear I will ruin the feeling. When a sunbeams shines in my face, I merely turn over, covering my head with my blanket. I’m wondering when Sunny is going to wake me when I hear faint voices outside my room.

“It’s been almost twelve hours. How long is she going to sleep?” Colonel Blair asks, and I remember I’m still in 1875.

“She done wore herself out,” Rose answers. “She ain’t bin used to hard work.”

“I believe we all surmised that when she played the violin last night. The gown in her bag is further proof of this. Only the wealthiest ladies in Virginia City wear such things, and I have never seen a more accomplished violinist.”

“Yeah, it be all everybody talkin’ about.”

I take the blanket off my head and sit up. I’m surprised to find that I’m not in Rose’s cabin but, rather, a warm bedroom in the Blair Mansion. A fire crackles in the fireplace.

A movement in the corner makes me turn my head. I smile at little Ida and hold my finger to my lips to keep her silent. She nods as I go to the door.

I open it. Rose and Colonel Blair look at me like kids getting their hands caught in a cookie jar.

“I started playing the violin when I was two and a half years old, and I believe the dress suits me,” I say to them. “You don’t need to speculate about me because I will answer any question you ask with the absolute truth.”

“Good morning, Miss Harris,” Colonel Blair politely inclines his head. His eyes go to the floor as I’m in a nightgown. I notice he has shaved and cleaned up.

I take the smoking pipe from his mouth. “You need to stop smoking. It will ruin your health.”

“You are very presumptuous,” he responds, still looking at the floor.

“And so are you,” I reply. “I fell asleep in Rose’s cabin and woke in your home. Let’s dismiss with all the formalities. I only have fourteen days remaining before I must leave. I don’t have time to waste on frivolities. I will tell you exactly what I think, when I think it. Stop smoking because it will kill you, and don’t even think about chewing because that is one of the filthiest habits I’ve ever seen. Now, I’m going to dress before eating and walking into town. If little Ida can spend her time dressing me, the least I can do is teach her how to read, and I will need a primer for that.”

*     *     *

A horse and a small, open carriage are waiting by the time I’ve eaten and dressed. I sigh when I see Colonel Blair is also waiting, having dressed to go to town.

“Colonel Blair, I am perfectly capable of walking into town and buying a primer,” I say with annoyance.

“Ma’am, it isn’t you that I am trying to protect but the peaceful metropolis of Virginia City,” he retorts.

“I’m sure the ladies can’t get enough of your impeccable charm.” I smile innocently at him. “Besides, Virginia City is a mining city; it’s anything but peaceful.”

He ignores the comment and raises a hand to help me into the carriage. I look at the horse nervously. I’ve never been around horses and, frankly, don’t trust the animal. I’d rather walk than ride in the carriage. Still, I have to act like a girl in 1875.  I nervously climb into the carriage, arranging my skirts around me.

The ride downtown is noisy, and I take in the differences between my time and his. Virginia City in 1875 is full of buildings and crowds of people. I watch countless people, from all ethnic backgrounds. There are miners in dusty clothing just getting off shifts in the mines, miners in slightly cleaner shirts on their way to the mine shafts, organ grinders with little monkeys, prostitutes wearing far too little clothing and way too much makeup while dancing inside saloons, and men emptying glass after glass of alcohol. The streets are also appallingly filthy: rats eat discarded garbage, a rank odor permeates the air, and there are some really risqué ads among the advertisements wallpapering outside building walls. Virginia City in 1875 is definitely not as romantic as I thought it would be. This point is driven home when I see small children playing in the streets wearing nothing but rags. My eyes fill with moisture. I try to blink it away.  A prayer from the Sarum Primer fills my mind,
God be in my head, and in my understanding; God be in my eyes, and in my looking; God be in my mouth, and my speaking; God by in my heart, and in my thinking.

Colonel Blair breaks the silence with his soft-spoken voice. “Virginia City is grueling on my southern sensibilities, as well.”

“If you don’t approve, why do you live here?” I ask, blotting away tears with my gloved fingers.

“I live here because my mines are here.” He clears his throat. “Rose told me that your parents are deceased. My sympathies, Ma’am. These are strange times we live in.”

“All times are strange, Colonel Blair,” I respond. “Thank you for your condolences.”

“Rose also said you are traveling to your sister. Where does she live? Perhaps I could accompany you home?”

I shake my head. “She lives very far away, and I must complete a few tasks before I leave.”

“Then you are a welcome guest how ever long is necessary.”

“That is very kind of you.” I decide to change the subject. I have to feel the waters to discover my first steps to save him from Samuel. “I do not mean to be impertinent, but your relationship with your uncle seems strained.”

“Impertinence is something I have come to expect from you,” he says with his lips slightly up-turned. “However, you are very perceptive. Uncle Samuel squandered his inheritance from my father and now works for me.”

“You mean he makes a mess in your house and orders about your help?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I suppose that is one way to describe him,” he says the words slowly while frowning.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” I quickly interject. “It’s just that one must be very careful with family members who stand to gain from one’s death.”

“Uncle Samuel may be a fool in matters of finance, but he means me no harm,” he defends his uncle, indicating he isn’t anywhere ready to hear the truth.

We’ve been so busy talking that I didn’t realize the carriage has stopped in front of a schoolhouse.

“Miss Andrews will have the primer you’re looking for,” he says. “I will return in fifteen minutes for you.”

The spinster teacher does have a used primer which she allows me to purchase with some of the money from my purse. It is pouring when I step out of the schoolhouse. Trying to avoid getting drenched, I walk under the awnings of several establishments, taking in the general atmosphere of the city. It’s a pretty sad place. Every other store is a saloon, and they’re full of men and prostitutes, many younger than I am. I continue walking down the street.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” asks a man in a blue uniform as he steps in front of me. “Private Smith, we’ve found ourselves a real lady.”

Uneasy, I try to turn around but am cut off by another man in uniform.

“Please excuse me gentlemen,” I say, trying to go around them. “I’m expected, elsewhere.”

“You aren’t going anywhere until we say so,” the other man says, taking an aggressive step forward. “We are here to keep the peace, and there is no peace when a pretty girl like you is bothering innocent soldiers like us.  Don’t you agree, Private Dent?”

Someone clears their throat behind us. Colonel Blair smiles serenely at the men.

“Is there a problem, privates?” he asks.

“This is none of your concern, just move along,” Private Smith says nastily.

“You are upsetting Miss Harris, and that is my concern, as she is my houseguest,” Colonel Blair answers.

Private Dent draws a gun out of his holster and points it at him. I’ve come all this way to save his life, and he’s going to die right in front of me. I prepare to jump in front of Colonel Blair. Thankfully, I don’t have to.

“Colonel Blair!” says a voice in an Irish accent. A dignified man runs across the street to us. “How was your meeting with President Grant?”

The soldiers are confused for a moment.

“Private Dent, good lord! Put that gun away!” the man says as he joins us, panting. “You’re threatening one of the most powerful men in the state, a Civil War hero, and a good friend of mine! Didn’t they teach you any manners in New York?”

“Mr. MacKay, this isn’t Colonel Blair,” Private Smith says, gesturing at Colonel Blair.

“He most certainly is Colonel Blair, formerly of the Confederate Calvary, otherwise known as ‘Gentleman James’. Where have you been living, under a rock? Put that gun away before I suggest to Sergeant McHenry you serve latrine duty.”

The gun is swiftly put in the holster.

“Miss Harris, there are some items I would your opinion on at the clothing store,” Colonel Blair takes my arm and wraps it around his. “John, it would a pleasure if you were to accompany us.”

“Certainly, Colonel Blair,” he snorts in the direction of the soldiers before flanking James’s other side.

“Are you all right, Ma’am?” Colonel Blair asks me quietly as we walk.

“I’m fine,” I answer.

“If you ask me, the sooner the Federal troops fix the Indian problems, the better,” Mr. MacKay says. “James, how many times have I told you that you need to get out more often? You have lived here nine years, and hardly anyone outside your household recognizes you by sight.”

“You know I like to keep to myself.” James directs me under awnings so we stay dry during the brief rain shower.

Mr. MacKay snorts a second time at Colonel Blair before addressing me, “Ma’am, I’m afraid I have not had the honor.”

“John MacKay, this is Miss Rebecca Harris of South Carolina. Miss Harris, this is John MacKay,” James introduces us outside a clothing store.

Mr. MacKay inclines his head and I curtsy.

“Is Miss Harris a relation of yours, Colonel Blair?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, she is merely my guest for the next two weeks,” he answers.

“What excellent timing for a visit to Virginia City! My Phoebe and boys will arrive, tomorrow morning, from San Francisco. We will be having a glorious St. Patrick’s Day party on the seventeenth. I trust we can count on you attending with your lovely visitor, Colonel Blair?”

Colonel Blair looks to me for approval. I nod once. It sounds like fun to go to a St. Patrick’s Day party in 1875. He sighs.

“Yes, we will be there,” he says.

“Excellent!” Mr. MacKay pats him on the shoulder. “I will inform Phoebe at once.  Good day, Colonel Blair, Miss Harris.”

He strides away.

Colonel Blair scowls at me. “Miss Harris, you should have waited at the schoolhouse for me. It is unwise for a girl to travel, unaccompanied. I am still in shock you were allowed to travel without a chaperone.”

“I’m sorry. Everything is new and unfamiliar to me,” I reply truthfully.  I’m just trying to fake it well enough to keep from standing out too much.

“All the more reason for you to use discretion,” he says, directing me down the street. “I hope you do not disapprove, but I have purchased a few things for you.”

He opens the door and ushers me into the store. “It is March, and you do not have a cloak. The weather is different in Nevada than what your have been accustomed to in South Carolina. Mrs. Barnett has agreed to help you locate suitable outerwear.”

“Colonel Blair, this must be the young lady you were telling me about?” an older woman greets us from behind the counter.

“Yes, Mrs. Barnett, this is Miss Harris,” Colonel Blair says. “She is in need of traveling attire, namely a cloak, bonnet, and parasol. Charge them to my account.”

“Colonel Blair, I have my own money, and I do not need winter attire. I will only be here a couple weeks,” I object.

He pretends not to hear me. “Mrs. Barnett, send Timmy for me when you and Miss Harris are finished. I will be at the Washoe Club having a drink with a friend.”

He abruptly disappears out the door as though he’s happy to be rid of me.

“That insolent man!” I mutter.

Mrs. Barnett laughs. “That insolent man is the catch of Virginia City. Believe me when I say, you will be the envy of all the girls by nightfall.”

The other girls can have Colonel Blair. I’m only here for a couple weeks, and I’ve already decided to despise the man forever. He was a cranky ghost who haunted me. More importantly, he owned slaves and fought for the Confederacy.

Mrs. Barnett is a kind woman and helps me find a warm cloak. After we locate a bonnet and parasol to match, she calls for her grandson to go for Colonel Blair. Instead of waiting around for the irritating man to return, I follow Timmy out the door.

The gentlemen’s club is filled with smoke. I wave it out of my face as I walk in. Little Timmy goes to a table in a corner.

“Colonel Blair, Miss Harris has finished her shopping,” he tells him.

“Thank you,” he says, pulling a small coin out of his pocket. He passes it to the boy.

“And who is this Miss Harris, Colonel?” the other man at the table teases Colonel Blair.

“One of the most trying girls in the country,” he replies, having caught my eye. He rises to his feet, and his drinking partner’s eyes open wide at seeing me enter the club.