Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (13 page)

“Gentlemen, do not get up,” I say, passing speechless men on my way to the table. I avert my eyes from a couple half-dressed women who are entertaining some of the patrons.

“Miss Harris, allow me to introduce Sergeant Marsh.” Colonel Blair gestures to his friend. “We served together during the war.”

Sergeant Marsh has had both his arms amputated. I smile warmly at him. Spending a lot of time in the hospital has given me a large amount of experience with dealing with physical differences.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” I say, taking the pipe from Colonel Blair’s mouth. I nonchalantly put it on the table.

“Were you able to find the items you need?” he asks, looking at my new cloak.

“I was able to find some items I definitely do not need, as I’m leaving in two weeks,” I reply, ignoring the dirty looks I’m receiving from both the patrons and the prostitutes entertaining them.

Sergeant Marsh leans over and slowly sips the top off his drink.

“Sergeant Marsh, allow me to get that for you.” I pick up the drink and lift it to his lips. When it is empty, I put the glass on the table and wipe his mouth with a cloth napkin.

“Thank you, Miss Harris,” he says gratefully.

“Not at all, Sergeant Marsh,” I return.

Colonel Blair rises to his feet. “Robert, I will return to finish this drink after I escort Miss Harris home.”

“I have a few things I need to pick up for Rose while I am in town.” I pull out a shopping list with directions to a grocery store. “Finish your drink while I go to Filiott’s grocery and provision store.”

“Miss Harris, my household staff is more than capable of stocking the pantry,” he objects.

“I didn’t say they weren’t. However, as I remember, Rose has been caring for sick children. I don’t want her to have to make a special trip to do the shopping if I can quickly stop right now. I won’t be more than a few minutes.” I turn to the door. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Marsh.”

I’m not more than five steps from the Washoe Club before Colonel Blair catches pace with me.

“Miss Harris, never again enter the Washoe Club!” he says angrily. “It is not a place for ladies!”

“From what I saw, it is not a place for gentlemen, either.” I continue to walk.

“I’m thinking of your safety. Are you always this aggravating?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer directly. “Do you always drink with prostitutes?”

He frowns deeply. “I was drinking with Sergeant Marsh, no one else.”

I shrug my shoulders. “It is really none of my concern. However, you should know that you can get some pretty terrible diseases from sleeping with prostitutes.”

His face turns a deep shade of red as he blushes. “Miss Harris, you are very candid for a southern girl. Likewise, I will return your candidness with candidness. My father taught me to behave like a gentleman. I do not consort with prostitutes.”

“That is a relief to hear. You will live a lot longer.” I don’t add that it’s completely degrading to women. If the demand were gone, the girls might have the opportunity to do something else with their lives.

I push my way into Filiott’s.

“Colonel Blair!” cheers a man as we walk into the store. “What can I do for you?”

He gestures to me. “Good day, Mr. Filiott. Miss Harris has a few items to purchase.”

I hand the man the shopping list. “We are almost out of flour, butter, salt, sugar, and bacon.”

“I have just what you need.” He disappears into the back room.

I look around the store. Coming from a generation of superstores, it’s weird to see such a small store with so few products. I inspect the displays behind the cabinet. My eyes linger on one particular product. It’s been a day and a half since I properly brushed my teeth, and I desperately want to change this. When Mr. Filiott returns, I point to the enormous toothbrushes.

“How much are the toothbrushes?” I ask.

He puts the groceries on the counter. “I have not had much interest in them. I would be willing to sell them for a penny apiece.”

First, it’s just plain nasty that the man can’t sell toothbrushes because that means no one is brushing their teeth. Second, a penny is a fantastic deal. I open my coin purse.

“I will take the whole box.”

“Miss Harris, what, may I ask you, are you going to do with a whole box of toothbrushes?” Colonel Blair questions.

I pass Mr. Filiott a dollar.

“Early St. Patrick’s Day presents,” I reply. “Having clean and healthy teeth is very important.”

Colonel Blair takes the dollar from Mr. Filiott and returns it to my coin purse. “Miss Harris is my guest for the next two weeks. Have any items she wishes to purchase charged to my account.”

“Colonel Blair, I have my own money,” I object.

“And millions of dollars of silver is mined from my holdings every year. I can afford to be a good host.”

I raise an eyebrow, not knowing whether to be impressed or disturbed by the massive amount of wealth. Ultimately, I decide to be practical.

“In that case, I would like a couple things to go with my toothbrushes.” I turn to Mr. Filiott. “What kind of fruit do you have? And do you have any peppermint sticks?”

“The only fruit I have is a box of apples, but I’m expecting a shipment of fruit from California in a couple days,” he answers. “As far as the peppermint sticks go, I keep them on the counter.”

A smile appears on his face while he points to a jar right next to me.

After I’m finished with my shopping, Mr. Filiott loads Colonel Blair’s carriage with the groceries before disappearing back into his store.

Colonel Blair frowns at the box of wrinkled apples as he helps me into the carriage.

“Those are the saddest apples I have ever seen,” he says.

“Be kind,” I scold. “I’m just grateful he had some.”

He shakes his head as he urges the horses forward. “At least Rose will be able to make some apple pies with them.”

“I will save her enough for a couple pies, but I have plans for the rest,” I tell him truthfully.

“And what are you planning on doing with a box of old apples?”

“Stop the carriage, and I will show you,” I say.

His brow wrinkles but obediently reins in the horses. Before he can walk around the carriage to help me, I’ve already stepped out. I take a couple of the small apples from the box and go directly to a group of children playing in the mud. None of them are wearing shoes, and their clothes don’t fit properly. The oldest looks to be about eight, and the youngest are toddlers too young to speak.

“Children, do you think you could help me?” I address the group. Some of the younger children hide behind the older ones. I smile warmly at them. “Colonel Blair just purchased me an entire box of apples, and I don’t know what I am going to do with all of them. Do you think you could take a few off my hands?”

I pass an apple to one of the older girls. She looks at the apple in disbelief.

“C-can I really have it?” she says in a sweet Irish accent. “The whole thing?”

“It is all yours,” I reply.

She beams at me. “Ma can make something with it for my family! I’m going to save it for St. Patrick’s Day!”

I pass out the other apples in my hands but quickly run out. I turn and find Colonel Blair holding the box of apples behind me. I pass an apple to each of the children. More children join the group, and I give them apples as well. There are still plenty of apples in the box, and I glance around the street for more children. I find two eyes peering behind a building.

“Do you want an apple?” I call out to the hiding child.

“He’s just a chink,” one of the boys informs me.

“Chink?” I question, not having heard the word.

“Chinese,” Colonel Blair explains.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” I say loudly. “I have a lot of apples and need children to use them. I don’t care where those children are from.”

A little boy frighteningly emerges from his hiding spot. I hold out an apple to him. He dashes to me, taking the apple. Hiding it in his too big jacket, he mutters something I don’t understand.

“What?” I ask.

“Sister,” he says, pointing to the building. For the first time, I see a second head peering out at me.

I wave over the frightened little girl. She trembles as I place the apple in her tiny hands. I pat her beautiful black hair.

“Thank you for helping me,” I tell her.

Her dark eyes look up at me, and a faint smile appears on her lips. She takes her brother’s hand, and the two quickly run away.

I find other groups of children to share the apples with. When the box is three quarters of the way empty, I prepare to step into Colonel Blair’s carriage. I am stopped by a fast moving woman. She dashes across the muddy street in a dark dress.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” she calls loudly. “I wish to make your acquaintance!”

“Do you want an apple as well?” I ask, holding one out to her.

“That is what you were giving the children!” She looks at the small apple. “That is a very generous gift in Virginia City, as everything must be shipped in by train.”

“Colonel Blair is extremely generous,” I tell her.

He frowns when I smile sweetly at him.

“Colonel Blair?” she asks. “Not the Colonel Blair?”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he says politely, still frowning at me. “You must be Julia Whitaker, Bishop Whitaker’s wife.”

“Yes, it is an absolute honor to meet you, Colonel Blair! And this must be Miss Blair, your sister.” She gestures to me.

“Colonel Blair is an only child, Mrs. Whitaker,” I explain. “Being generous to a fault, he has offered me a roof over my head until I return to my sister.”

“Miss Harris has been helping care for the ill children of some of my miners,” Colonel Blair adds.

“It is welcomed new to have another God-fearing woman in Virginia City. Heavens knows there are not nearly enough of us.” Julia clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Can my husband and I expect you to church while you are with us?”

“Of course,” I answer.

Colonel Blair frowns.

“Very good, I am already looking forward to Sunday. I wish I could stay and visit longer; however, I have visits to make. Good day.” She turns and begins to walk away. Suddenly, she stops and turns back around. “Miss Harris, you will want to keep your distance from the children. Many of them have lice and fleas.”

“Oh, I am not worried about that,” I retort. I’ve met more than my far share of do-gooders who preach one thing and do another. “The children are just too beautiful to keep my distance from.  Didn’t Jesus tell his disciples in the New Testament, ‘Suffer the children to come unto me’?” I repeat a sermon Mama often quoted.

Julia’s face is stoic.

“Miss Harris, you are a true Christian,” she says, surprising me. “Sunday will not come nearly fast enough.”

With that, she disappears down the street.

“I assume you are finished giving away my apples,” Colonel Blair says, putting the almost empty box in the back of the carriage.

“I am,” I reply, taking my seat. “Now, I am going to give away all your toothbrushes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And who do you think will use such a confounded invention?”

“Your entire household,” I answer, finding the sack of peppermint sticks. I pass one to him. “If you want to keep your teeth, you have to brush them. Also, to help you break your smoking habit it would be good if you had something else to do with your mouth. Peppermint sticks are a lot better for you than tobacco, as long as you brush your teeth afterward.”

*     *     *

It’s raining, again, when we arrive at the Mansion. Colonel Blair parks the carriage just long enough to unload the food before returning to town to finish his drink. I walk into the house, covered in water.

“You poor critter,” Rose exclaims when she sees me walk into the Mansion soaked to the bone. “Where Massa James done gone?  Why ain’t he accompanyin’ you here?”

“He did. He just returned to town to have a drink with a friend in the Washoe Club,” I answer, taking off my very wet cloak.

Gabe frowns from the doorway before heading out into the rain.

“Ida, be helpin’ Miss Rebecca change into somethin’ dry while I be startin’ dinner,” Rose calls up the stairs.

“Where’s Samuel?” I take off my new bonnet.

“Same place as always. He be off bettin’ on cards.”

“Great, while Colonel Blair is drinking himself stupid, his uncle is gambling. This family is an absolute mess!” I say to myself, knowing that it’s going to get a lot worse. I shake my head before heading up the stairs.

I decide that while Colonel Blair is out destroying his liver, I might as well do something useful. I pick up the box of toothbrushes. It is the perfect time to teach everyone how to brush their teeth.

Tuesday, March 9, 1875

I open my eyes to find a beautiful, yet fearsome, woman standing above my bed. I know at once she is a ghost because her clothes date back much further than 1875.

“Hello,” I say, sitting up. Unexpectedly, she jumps back at the sound of my voice and clutches her heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,”

“You can see me?” she asks.

“I have the sight,” I explain.

She looks at me curiously. “Very few have the sight.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” I pull my blankets tight because of the chill in the air. “May I ask your name?”

“Rosanna,” she answers, looking me over.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Why have you come to the Blair Mansion?” she asks pointblank.

“I conjured myself here to save Colonel Blair’s life,” I say.

“And why do you assume his life is in danger?” She sits on my bed.

“Because he, Gabe, and Henry have been haunting me in the future,” I answer. There’s no reason to hide the truth from a ghost.

Her face darkens. “I have been trying to warn Gabe about that man!” She doesn’t sound surprised that I’m from the future or that I’ve been conjured there.

“Yes, Samuel will shoot Colonel Blair and blame it on Gabe and Henry. Then he will lead a mob to lynch them.”

She holds her hands tightly together, pursing her lips. “Why have you gotten involved?”

“Gabe and Henry are my friends, and it makes me sad they’re stuck in limbo.”

“And James?” She raises an eyebrow.

“He’s just as irritating in death as he is in life.”

She shakes her head. “No, he is a good man, like his papa. His life is worth saving. I am glad you have come. Is your family the next family to occupy the mansion house after Samuel?”

“No, Samuel commits suicide, and the house has been sold several times over the past hundred and forty years.”

Her eyes open wide. “You are from a hundred and forty years in the future? It is impossible to conjure over such distances!”

I shake my head. “Gabe told me how to do it. I wished to help the Colonel, and here I am.”

She sits silently for several minutes, understanding the ramifications of my words. “You have risked much to save these men. We will have to ensure your gift is not wasted, but you are going to need some help.”

“Who will help me?  It’s not like anyone would believe me if I were to tell them the truth.”

“Miss Harris, you are not the only one in the manor who has the sight. My son also has it, and he will believe me when I tell him of your mission. Furthermore, you were right when you said he was one of the most intelligent men in Nevada. Gabe is the only man capable of helping you with the task of saving his own life and the lives of his best friends.”

*     *     *

Klunk!

The bottle noisily hits the bottom of a wooden bucket. Another follows and then another. I get on my hands and knees, pulling bottles out from underneath the bed and a couple chairs.

“Gabe, what is that confounded racket?” Colonel Blair asks from his cocoon of blankets. “My head is pounding, and you decide to clean up!”

“You may enjoy living in a pigsty, but I do not,” I answer, throwing more bottles in the bucket.

The blankets are immediately wrapped around him, and he sits up.

“Miss Harris, you have gone too far!” he exclaims. “It is beyond indecent for you to be in my bedroom!”

“And it is beyond indecent for you to stay out all night drinking,” I retort, unfazed. “You are going to destroy your brain and liver with all this alcohol.”

“First my pipe, and now this? What I do with my leisure time is none of your concern!”

I pick up a half-full bottle of whiskey off his chest of drawers and march to the window. I throw it open, dumping the whiskey in the frozen grass below. Henry waves up to me while feeding the dogs in the dark of the early morning.

“Henry, don’t let those dogs drink the whiskey,” I call down. “The last thing we need is more drunkards roaming the streets.”

Henry laughs as I shut the window.

“Miss Harris, you just watered the grass with very expensive whiskey,” Colonel Blair says with frustration as he covers his bare chest with his blankets.

“The grass needs it more than you do.” I put the bottle in the bucket with the others.

“I must object!” he exclaims as I head to the dresser and begin searching through his drawers. He frowns deeply when I find his stash of pipes and tobacco. I add them to the bucket of bottles.

“I was serious about the smoking,” I say, putting the bag of peppermint sticks on his dresser. “I have an errand to accomplish today. I will see you this evening.”

I march out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I drop the bucket at the backdoor.

Rose looks up from the pot she’s stirring and nods when she sees the bucket of empty bottles and pipes.

“Dem drinks ain’t good for nobody,” she says.

“No, I didn’t come all this way to watch him destroy himself.” I go to the door. “I have an errand to complete today. I will be home late.”

“Where you be goin’?”

“To visit an old friend.”

*     *     *

Sitting on a wet log, I painfully rub my right ankle as rain falls on me. The roads and paths in my time are more developed than the roads and paths in 1875. I thought the walk to Clara’s would take me only an hour or so. I was wrong.  At first I was able to travel quickly, but then it started to drizzle, and I tripped over my skirts. Now, I’m in the middle of nowhere, sitting in one of the few thunderstorms Nevada will experience this year, and my ankle hurts too much for me to finish walking to see Clara. Worse still, I skipped breakfast.  A handful of pine-nuts isn’t much, and I’m starving.

“Miss Harris!” a voice yells out loudly in the distance.

I immediately recognize it and call out, “I’m here, Colonel Blair!”

A horse thunders through the small grove to me, and the Colonel is off it as soon as it stops.

“Thank God!” he exclaims when he sees me. His relief quickly turns to agitation. “Damn it, girl! Don’t you have any commonsense? You have upset Rose and the rest of my help with your foolish antics! Nevada is filled with Indians. It is a miracle you did not run into any of them.”

“I did run into some,” I say, “and they were kind enough to give me directions to the village I am looking for and some pine-nuts for my lunch.”

He pinches the ridge of his nose in frustration as Gabe also rides up on a horse.

“You are fortunate you met the Indians you did,” Colonel Blair says. “We need to get you home and out of this storm.”

“No, I have to go to the village today. I have an important message to relay to a friend.”

“It is a miracle you have not hurt yourself walking through the mud. It is best you save your visiting for another day.”

“Colonel Blair, you do not understand. I must go to Clara’s village, and as I am closer to the village than Virginia City, it just seems practical to finish my journey. And, as far as not hurting myself goes, I have hurt myself. I have twisted my ankle.” I painfully lift my muddy, right foot.

Ankles are taboo to men in 1875. Colonel Blair looks to Gabe for guidance. He merely shrugs his huge shoulders. Swearing under his breath, Colonel Blair takes off his leather riding gloves and kneels in front of me. He nervously takes my foot in his hands and rotates my ankle. I cry out with pain.

“It is not broken.” He immediately puts down my foot. “But it is a very bad sprain.”

“Good, then I can still walk on it.” I force myself to my feet.

“No, you must stay off it.” He stops me from taking a step. He sighs audibly. “If you must visit this friend, you can ride my horse. Gabe can show you the way.”

I shake my head. “No, I will be fine.”

“Girl, you can barely stand let alone walk!” he snaps.

“I am fine and stop calling me ‘girl’!” I retort curtly. “Besides, I have never been on a horse in my life. It is better for me to walk than risk being thrown.”

Understanding fills his face. Wordlessly, he picks me up and places me on the horse with my legs hanging off the left side. Then he climbs on behind me. I’m fine until the horse moves. I gasp, twisting at the waist so I can throw my arms around Colonel Blair’s chest to keep from falling off.

“You are not going to fall,” he says, urging the horse forward.

My body begins trembling from the cold and fear.

“You really are frightened,” he says before chuckling. His tone has dramatically softened. “I never thought I would see the day something frightened you, Miss Harris.”

I’m too scared to respond with some witty comeback. I just hold tightly onto him.

One of his arms wraps around my waist. “What village are you wishing to visit? I will take you, and I promise I will not let you fall.”

The Colonel is true to his word, he keeps me safely atop his horse during our ride to Clara’s village. Once we reach the village, he slides off the horse and leads the animal with me holding tightly to the saddle horn.

We are met by a tall and handsome Native American.  The man’s eyes go directly to me.

“Miss Harris is looking for a member of your tribe.” Colonel Blair gets between me and the man.

The man walks around him and gazes up at me.

“I have been expecting you, Silver Queen,” he says.

Colonel Blair scowls at him. “Miss Harris is not my sister,” he snaps.

“Of course not, Colonel Blair. I was referring to her silvery hair, not to you being one of Nevada’s Silver Kings.” His English is impeccable. He smiles serenely. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am White Cloud.”

“You do not look Paiute,” Gabe says from his horse. “You are too tall, and your facial structure is different.”

“Correct, as usual, Gabriel.” He continues to smile in a Zen-like trance. “What an unusual trio the three of you are: the tormented warrior, the hidden potential, and the…”

He just stops in mid-sentence. His smile disappears as his eyes go to me.

“You are much more than others realize, Miss Harris. Come, we will lunch together. Rabbits have been trapped for the occasion.”

He excitedly takes off into the village, leaving us gaping.

“Miss Harris, you must let go of the saddle,” Colonel Blair takes my hands to pry them off the saddle horn. “I will help you down.”

I slowly nod, reluctantly letting go. Colonel Blair helps me slide down the horse to the ground. I breathe in a deep breath of air, grateful to be on the ground again.

“That is the strangest Indian I have ever met,” Gabe says, also dismounting.

“I think he is wonderful,” I respond truthfully. I don’t know why, but White Cloud’s presence brings me peace. Yes, he’s different, but different in a good way.

“Miss Harris, you are very naïve for even a thirteen-year-old,” Colonel Blair says.

I laugh. “Colonel Blair, I may be petite, but I am certainly not thirteen. I turned eighteen more than six months ago, and I stopped growing much sooner than that. Furthermore, I am not naïve. I just believe most people are good.”

The walk through the village is excruciating. My ankle protests, and my muscles are sore from the ride. I limp to join White Cloud outside a rounded structure made of tree limbs.

“Miss Harris, I know you wish to speak with Clara. She is waiting for you in the wikiup,” he says. “I will entertain Colonel Blair and Gabriel.”

I nervously enter the wikiup. It’s a strange to be in 1875. It’s even stranger to have to tell Clara that she will die in less than a month if she doesn’t heed my warning. However, no matter how difficult, I must do it. Clara is my dearest friend.

“Clara?” I say, looking around the dark wikiup.

“I’m here,” she replies from a dark corner.

I limp across the floor covering of branches to her. I smile when I see her beautiful dark eyes. It is so wonderful to see her in the flesh!

“Hello, my name is Rebecca. I have come a long way to see you,” I tell her.

“I know; White Cloud had a dream you were coming.” She hesitates. “You have not come with good news, have you?”

I take her hand. “Actually, I have come with very good news. I have a warning which will save your life.”

Clara listens as I tell her to stay away from Virginia City on the twenty-first. She smiles faintly when I finish.

“Thank you, Rebecca. What you ask of me is very simple. I will remain with my family that day.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and pat her hand. “Good, now I better get Colonel Blair out of your village before he offends everyone.”

Clara giggles. “White Cloud already warned us about him.”

“That makes me feel a little better.” I stand. “Tell me, who exactly is White Cloud?”

She stands, helping me through the wikiup. “He is a very wise man. It is an honor for him to stay with our band.”