Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

He continues to rub the salve into my skin.

“I have a lot to do while I am in Virginia City.”

“Such as?” he interrupts.

“I want to help as many people as possible,” I answer honestly.

“Am I one of these people?”

I nod.

He stops rubbing my hands, but he doesn’t let go. He pats my hand, reminding me of a father scolding a child. “Then you can help me by protecting your health.  You must behave yourself.”

“I am not here to protect my health or behave myself.  I am here to save you.”

He raises one of his perfect eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak.

“I be sorry, Massa James,” Ida exclaims, running into the room.

Colonel Blair pulls his hands away. “Ida, Miss Harris will need gloves to hold the moisture on her hands.”

“Yes, Massa James.” Ida leaves the room as quickly as she came.

“For the first time since we met, could you dress properly for the day?” He finishes rubbing salve into his own hands before going out the door.

“Dress properly!” I angrily pick up the socks and throw them at the door. I am not a child! I do not need instructions on how to dress! He needs to be more concerned with his tobacco addiction than what I’m wearing!

*     *     *

“Miss Harris, please,” Ida pleads. “Massa James gonna be awful angry.”

“Colonel Blair can blow it out his…” I don’t finish the sentence as I scrub the dining room floor on my hands and knees. I cringe as I submerge my hands in the disgusting, tobacco-colored water. I can’t live with wads of chewing tobacco all over the floor.

“I’m a-do it, Miss Harris.” She tries to take the scrub brush.

I shake my head as I attack a new lump of chewing tobacco. “You are a little girl who should be practicing her reading, not cleaning up after filthy adults.”

“But your hands, Miss Harris,” she objects.

“My hands have seen worse,” I say, dipping the brush in the water once more.

“Ida, have you seen Miss Harris?” Colonel Blair walks into the room, not seeing me in the corner behind the dining room table.

“I done tried to s-stop her, M-Massa James,” Ida stutters.

“What has she done, now?” he asks sternly.

“I have not done anything. That’s the problem.” I keep scrubbing. The place is a pigsty, and lunch is only a couple hours away.

He crouches down and peers at me under the table. A furious look appears on his face when he sees me scrubbing the floor. I have seen him unhappy. I have seen him frustrated. This is the first time I’ve seen him truly angry. Wordlessly, he marches across the room and irately removes the scrub brush from my hands.

“Colonel Blair, I can’t clean the floor without that,” I say, looking up at his towering figure.

There is a shocked scream from the doorway.

“Miss Harris! You should not be on the floor!” Clara surprisingly dashes into the room and pulls me to my feet. “Colonel Blair, this is inexcusable! Miss Harris is not to be treated as a common laborer!”

“Miss Harris is the most aggravating girl on the face of the earth!” he snarls, throwing the scrub brush into the bucket of water. Brown water splashes all over the floor. “She is the one determined to behave like a washerwoman! Perhaps you can talk some sense into her!”

He doesn’t look back as he stomps out the door.

I ignore his tirade. He’s a bit of a spoiled brat.

“Clara, what are you doing here?” I turn my attention to her.

“Colonel Blair hired me as your lady’s maid.” She takes off her bonnet. “Can you tell me why you were on your hands and knees?”

“I was trying to clean the floor before Colonel Blair took away the brush. This place is filthy.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“No wonder Colonel Blair was in such a disagreeable mood.” She wraps her arm through mine. “Come along. You look a fright. We need to get you cleaned up,” she says it almost as though she’s my nanny or something. That’s probably why he hired Clara, to babysit me.

“What about the floor?” I object.

“The floor is not your concern.”

“What do you mean?” I question.

Clara directs me to a frost-covered window.  She opens it.  White Cloud is outside putting together a wikiup. The rest of Clara’s band lead in horses and begin unloading them. Everyone’s here, the children as well as the elderly.

“Colonel Blair hired us to serve on his household staff,” she explains, shutting the window. “He said he was shorthanded, and we are happy for the income.”

I smile, giving her an unexpected hug. She gives me a strange look, and I remember that we’re practically strangers in 1875.

“Oh, Clara! The three of us are going to become the best of friends!” I exclaim. I wrap an arm around her and the other around Ida.

*     *     *

I slide my fingers up and down the strings, moving the bow slowly. Clara and Ida have gone to help downstairs. Having been severely admonished to behave myself, I play a song I often played for Mama. 
Amazing Grace
was always a favorite of hers. It’s impossible to play the song and not think of her. I wonder what she would say if she knew what I was up to. I wonder if she would approve of my decision to try to save my friends. I am so deep in thought I don’t notice Colonel Blair standing in the doorway until I put down the violin.

“I’m sorry if I have disturbed you,” I say.

His eyes go to mine. “My father played the violin. That was his instrument.”

I look over the old violin in my hands. “It’s beautiful.  Henry said it was your mother’s.”

He smiles faintly. “Henry thinks everything in the attic belonged to my mother.”

I giggle at my friend.

In a hushed voice he says, “You are at such peace when you play.”

I nod. “When the world is chaotic around me, I can count on the violin. It is the only thing I have ever had control over. I’m sure it is the same for you. What do you have control over?”

He thinks for a moment. “Silver and gold, I have control over my ore.”

“Then that is where you find your peace.” I put the violin in the violin case.

His eyebrows furrow. “It has never brought me peace.”

“Really? I thought money always brought peace. It would for me.” I shut and latch the violin case.

“And what would you do with wealth?”

I laugh. “Are you kidding? If I had a lot of money, I would use it to help people. I would provide medical care for the poor and help orphans go to school. I would make the world a better place.”

He stares at me for several moments before gesturing to a small box next to my bed. “I see you found more of my pipes.”

I smile sweetly at him while holding up a pipe carved in the shape of a nude woman with huge breasts.

“Charming,” I say.

His face reddens. “It was a gift from one of the soldiers who served under my command. May I have the pipes back?”

“No, you may not.” I throw the nudie pipe back in the box. “I have permanently confiscated them.”

He sighs. “Would you like to see what is being done downstairs?”

I nod once.

He takes the violin and puts it aside before helping me to my feet.

“You are a tiny little thing,” he muses.

“Always have been and always will be,” I answer with a frown. “Do you take offense to my size?”

He just shakes his head with his lips pursed in response.

The moment we steps out of the room, I see what they’ve been up to: the smoke-stained whitewashed walls are being covered by brightly colored wallpaper, the floors have been properly scrubbed, and new drapes are being made to hang in the windows.

“You are decorating, and you didn’t invite me!” I say.

“After the manual labor you preformed this morning, I wanted you to rest.  I have been invited to the Grand Railroad Ball in Carson City, this evening, and thought you might wish to attend as well,” he replies, waiting for an answer.

A real ball in the Victorian era? There’s no way the beauty queen in me could ever refuse.

“What time do we leave?” I ask.

He smiles and looks at a silver pocket watch. “We have just enough time to dress before we catch the train to Carson City.”

*     *     *

I look at my reflection in the mirror, disbelieving I am the woman whose reflection I see. I have spent my life preparing for and competing in beauty pageants, and I’ve never been dressed as elaborately as I am at the moment. My pink gown has a surprisingly low neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves with a form-fitting waist. The bottom of the dress is spectacular, draped with cascades of pink frills. My cuirass bodice feels terrible, but I must admit, it looks wonderful under the gown, as though my body was made to dress this way. I never thought I’d see the day my curves were good for something. Ida and Clara have put my hair up in a cluster of blond ringlets with a gorgeous feather hairpiece.

“Here be you gloves, Miss Harris,” says Ida, handing me the white gloves.

“I don’t know what I would do without you two,” I say, putting on the gloves.

Clara giggles, holding up a long, black ribbon. “You would look a mess. Turn so I can tie on your neck ribbon.”

“That thing is so long someone is going to step on it and choke me.”

“It is not as long as your dress, besides it needs to hang down the back of your dress.”

I give in, obediently turning around. She gently puts the ribbon around my neck, tying a bow in the back. The long ends join my draped overskirt. I wiggle in the dress.

“I should have gone to the outhouse before I dressed,” I say. Ida goes to the corner and retrieves the chamber pot. I shake my head. “I will just have to figure it out in the outhouse.”

“Rebecca, it will be impossible for you to use the outhouse,” Clara informs me. “You will have to use the chamber pot.”

“Just take the dress off for a moment and I will be able to…” Before I can finish Clara has lifted my skirts and situated the chamber pot. My face reddens with embarrassment.

“I’m not taking off the dress,” she says. “Use the chamber pot like a proper lady so everyone will stop talking about how strange you are.”

“But I’m not a proper lady,” I object, thinking of how I’ve been treated as nothing but a child since I arrived in 1875.

“You are the only proper lady in Virginia City,” she counters. “We all know that, but you need to stop creating a headache for us. We want to take care of you, but cannot because you are too determined to take care of yourself. You have done so much for me. Sometimes generosity is a heavy burden to bear. Let me do a few small things for you.”

I’m practically dancing and know I don’t have time to remove the dress. She’s right, generosity is a heavy burden. I relent and use the chamber pot. I feel better, but I desperately miss my toilet at home. Chamber pots are dreadful!

Clara nods. “It is about time. We must finish getting you ready.”

When I step out of the bedroom, I sigh. The stairs are going to be difficult to maneuver with a hurt ankle and the massive skirts.

“You are not to descend the staircase without assistance,” Colonel Blair says from his doorway.

He steps into the light, taking my breath away. Dressed in a very fine three-piece suit, he looks the part of a nineteenth century millionaire. In one hand, he holds a top hat and a pair of leather gloves. In the other, he carries an elegant walking stick. He stares unashamedly. Once again, I must look like a baby wearing adult clothes.

I start down the stairs. Colonel Blair instantly takes my arm and helps me.

“Oh, Miss Rebecca!” Rose exclaims as we walk into the foyer. “You done knock me speechless!”

“The corset is terrible, but I like the dress,” I say, swaying the skirt.

“You shouldn’t be sayin’ such things in da company of Massa James!” she reprimands me.

I shrug my bare shoulders, but before I have a chance to respond Colonel Blair intercedes as he puts on his top hat, “I have come to expect the complete truth from Miss Harris. Would you please bring the gift I purchased for her?”

“Pleasure, Massa Blair!” She hurries from the room.

“Colonel Blair, I really must object,” I turn on him. “You cannot buy me any more things.”

“I can purchase whatever I wish with my money.” He pulls on his gloves. “Furthermore, you could not possibly go all the way to Carson City without the proper outerwear.  It would be indecent.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about until Rose returns. She is carrying an elegant fur cape with matching muff. Colonel Blair takes the cape and places it around my shoulders, toggling it at my neck. I want to object to the cost and ridiculousness of it. I don’t. I absolutely love the cape. It is the most beautiful article of clothing I have ever seen. I run my hands across the soft, brown fur. Colonel Blair smiles in self-satisfaction.

“There are some advantages to wealth, other than charity. Are there not, Miss Harris?” he says.