Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

“I shall not fear the battle if thou art by my side,” I quietly repeat the words of John E. Bode as the unearthly battle wages around us.

I know precisely the moment the carriage pulls into the Mansion’s yard; a fierce war-cry and countless weapons sound in the darkness. The Paiutes are the best allies a person can have when fighting an army of the undead.

James pulls me from the carriage and carries me into the Mansion. He doesn’t say a word as he helps me out of my dusty cloak.

“Are you okay?” I ask, shaking the dust out of his hair.

He pulls me to him, remaining silent.

The gunfight outside slows. Footsteps dash down the hallway. White Cloud enters the room, completely unconcerned about James’s pistol which has taken aim at him.

“Are either of you hurt?” White Cloud asks.

“We’re fine,” I answer. “How’s Gabe?”

“A bullet passed through one of his arms, but it will heal…” Before White Cloud can finish the sentence, James grabs him around the neck.

“I want to know what those creatures are!” he bellows.

White Cloud’s eyes flicker to me.

“I still believe it is best for this conversation to be postponed until after the wedding,” he says a second time.

James angrily releases him.

“I must go check on Gabe! Send for Clara to help Miss Harris!” He storms from the room.

“Why don’t we just tell him?” I ask.

White Cloud shakes his head. “He is closer, but he is still not quite ready for the truth.”

*     *     *

On the night before their weddings, most brides are thinking about their weddings. However, I’m trying to enjoy my final hours in 1875. Contemplating everything that has happened and will happen, I quietly sneak into James’s room. I am just drawn to him, wanting to be with him every remaining second. He was the unexpected gift I received from my decision, and he will be the greatest loss when I am gone.

I carefully sit on the bed, watching him sleep in the moonlight. I can’t help it, silent tears fall down my cheeks. It will be an immense loss when I can no longer hear his soft-spoken voice, look into his beautiful brown eyes, or touch his soft, curly hair. I wipe the tears from my face and remind myself that I am there to preserve his life.  No matter how much it will hurt to leave him, it would hurt exceedingly more to fail.

I look to the heavens and whisper a prayer by George Matheson, “O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee: I give thee back the life I owe, that in thine ocean depths its flow may richer, fuller be. O light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torch to thee: My heart restores its borrowed ray, that in thy sunshine’s blaze, its day may brighter, fairer be.”

I take a deep breath, fighting back emotion.

“Rebecca?” James asks as he sits up. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t bear the thought of leaving,” I whisper, taking one of his hands.

“Then do not,” he replies, pulling me onto the bed. “Stay with me forever.”

I shake my head. “I wish it were that easy.”

“It is that easy, just choose to love me and let me love you.” He covers me with the blankets.

“I already love you.” I run my fingers through his hair, just wanting to touch him. “I love you more than I ever thought possible. Remember that. When I am gone, remember that I love you and no distance will ever change that.”

Saturday, March 20, 1875

“Rebecca,” someone calls to me.

I’m confused, looking around a dark tunnel. I don’t know which way to go. My feet want to go one way, but my head tells me it’s not time.

“Rebecca,” the voice calls louder.

“James?” I finally understand. I wearily open my eyes. I find him looking down at me with concern.

“You did not sleep well,” he says, carefully picking me up and cradling me in his arms.

“I’m fine,” I say, realizing for the first time I’m covered in sweat.

He wipes my forehead with the corner of a quilt.

“How long have I been here?” I ask.

He smiles sheepishly. “All night, I cannot seem to sleep without you.”

He lovingly pushes my hair over my shoulder and kisses the back of my neck. I force myself to sit up and find my body is very stiff.

“What are our plans?” I ask. “What preparations do we need to make for the wedding?”

“It has all been arranged,” he answers, rubbing the stiff muscles in my neck as he carries me to my room. He gently places me on my bed. “I will let you dress.”

He leaves me in Ida’s care.

I can barely sit up. Ida watches me fearfully as I wearily get to my feet and sit back down in exhaustion.

“Ida, it looks like I’ll be staying in bed to rest up for this afternoon,” I tell her with a fake smile on my face. “Will you please go get Gabe for me?”

A few minutes later, Gabe silently enters the room, locking the door behind him.

“I have been concerned this would happen,” he says, sitting in a chair next to my bed. There is a bandage on his arm from the previous night. “Ten days is a long time to remain conjured anywhere. Add a hundred and forty years distance to that, and it’s a miracle that you were even able to travel to us.”

I nod. “It’s getting harder and harder to stay. It took a huge fight to wake up. I can hardly move. I think we need to call off the wedding.”

“You must marry James,” Gabe insists. “All will be lost without you.”

“I’m so tired. I can’t even walk. How am I supposed to stand long enough to get married?”

“Perhaps my mother has a recipe which can help?” he says more to himself than me. “I will be back.”

He quietly leaves the room, and I close my eyes. When I open them again, Gabe is holding a glass with a frothy orange mixture.

“This will help.  However, there is nothing which will keep you here longer than the date you conjured. When you go to sleep tonight, you will wake in your own time.”

He puts it to my lips, and I choke down the disgusting concoction.

I don’t tell him I simply hope the mixture will help me survive the day because this journey will claim me one way or another.  I am so very tired, but before I can close my eyes, Gabe warns, “Don’t go to sleep. You will need to stay awake until after the wedding.”

“Do you think I can do it?” I ask as my belly begins to warm.

“It is not a matter of can you do it, you must do it. The stars are aligning for today. The house will be full of wedding guests. You have already changed the past you knew. No one would blindly follow Samuel’s word now.”

“Yes, but we need to keep James alive. He is the key to it all.”

The door flies open and James sprints into my room, sweeping me into his arms.

“Ida told me that you are unwell, not just tired,” he says with apprehension.

“It’s just been a very long week,” I try to downplay my poor health.

“There is absolutely no way you can travel tomorrow in this condition. I must insist you stay here.” He smiles as he moves the hair out of my face.

I take his hand.

“I afraid I don’t have a choice.  We will have to enjoy what little time we have left. Fortunately, I’m already feeling a bit better.”  The thought of breaking his heart makes me unspeakably sad.

“James, you need to prepare yourself for my departure. I will return home tomorrow.”

“Why do you refuse to stay with me?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“I don’t want to leave you, but I will have to.” I draw a deep breath of air into my lungs. This journey has been harder than I ever imagined. It’s excruciating to think of being separated from him, but time is against us. I turn around, cupping his handsome face in my tiny hands. “I love you, and I’m proving that by marrying you, even if it is just for a few short hours. I know the feeling of not fitting into the world and, for whatever reason, you and I fit together. Let’s try to enjoy the time we have together.”

Gabe’s concoction helps me regain some of my strength, but I feel my own mortality calling for me. When James takes me to see how beautifully the outside of the Mansion has been decorated, I hear a car horn where there are no cars and see a trail of jet exhaust in the sky. I am hallucinating as the end draws nearer.

Having a horde of friends visiting makes it easier to focus when we return to the Mansion. The atmosphere is cheerful and merry with everyone celebrating the wedding. Time flies and, before I know it, it is time to dress from the ceremony.

The ceremony is short and simple. I was certain I would have cold feet, but I don’t. When I see the joy in James’s eyes, I am happy to give him this small gift. He will only be able to claim me as his own for a few short hours because the end is drawing closer by the second. There are times I glance around the house full of guests and find it empty. When I blink, the guests reappear.

“You are still unwell,” James whispers as we eat our wedding feast.

“I will be leaving very soon.” I take his hand under the table, looking at the clock in the corner. There are only a few hours until midnight.

Rose has outdone herself with the meal. We are served turkey, ham, biscuits, jellies, cake, gelatin, candy, fruit, and even ice cream. Our glasses are never allowed to be empty.

“To the bride and groom,” Samuel toasts us, filling our glasses.

James is happily talking to Gabe as I put my glass to my lips. The moment the liquid hits my throat, I know something is wrong. I blink as my life is rapidly disintegrating. Immediately, I understand what has happened. I turn and frantically knock the glass from James’s hand before he can take a drink. It shatters on the floor. I put my hands to my burning throat. The feeling of foreboding has finally come to pass.

“It’s poisoned,” I whisper hoarsely before collapsing in his arms. My eyes close. “Samuel poisoned it.”

“The whore deserved it! I just wish George O’Malley would have succeeded last night!” Samuel screams. “I wanted the pair!”

“NO!” James hysterically yells.

The room fills with gasps and frantic footsteps.

“Grab him!” John MacKay orders loudly. There is a scuffle around me.  “Get him out of here!”

“Rebecca, stay with me!” James pleads desperately, and I feel myself being carried.

“I did it. I saved you. I came here to save you and I did.” My voice is becoming weaker as the poison spreads. My insides are on fire and my heart begins beating rapidly. I thrash around in excruciating pain. Being poisoned is a dreadful way to die.

“My own guardian angel,” James chokes on the words, and I feel his tears falling on my face.

I open my eyes and find myself in James’s lion bed. There is so much I want to say, and so little time in which to say it.

“Gabe, take care of him and Henry,” I force through my burning throat.

“I promise,” Gabe sternly answers, fighting back tears of his own.

“James,” I say as I weakly squeeze his hand. “Ride your horses. Start a family. Be happy. Live your life.”

“I cannot live without you!” he counters. “You are my whole reason for existing!”

“No, I told you I would leave today. Your life is my wedding gift to you.” I am overcome with pain and emotion.  My heart feels as though it’s going to bust in half. “I came to save you, and I did, but what you don’t know is you saved me, too. After Mama died, I didn’t think I was capable of being loved by anyone but Marina. You proved me wrong. Thank you for loving me.”

I wearily close my eyes. The poison is shutting my body down.

His body trembles, and I know he is sobbing as he holds me tightly in his arms.

“Doctor, save her!” he pleads.

Doc O’Grady takes my pulse. He says with immense regret in his voice, “He used lye. I’m sorry.  There is not anything we can do. Her heart cannot take the strain.”

Not afraid of death, my lips whisper a final prayer, “Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly, while the gathering waters roll, while the tempest still is high: hide me, O my Saviour, hide, till the storm of life is past; safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last.”

I want to comfort James. I want to tell him everything is going to be all right because he won’t be stuck in limbo, but I can’t fight the tunnel any longer. My life is a fair exchange for the eternal joy of my friends.

“She’s gone,” Doc O’Grady says.

“NO!” James desperately screams behind me, but I’m already walking toward the light.

Silence surrounds me. I taste the calmness of it. Smooth and refreshing silence. Looking around, I see the scenery matches the silence. White: pure, innocent. I am surrounded by it. But not like snowstorm white; no it’s warm, safe white. I know I’m in heaven.

“Baby Girl!” a voice says behind me. My eyes fill with tears.

“Mama!” I exclaim as I see her for the first time in far too long.

She looks younger somehow. Her skin is less wrinkled, and her body is not so hunched over. She, too, is dressed in glorious white. I don’t get a chance to appreciate the sight of her for very long because she throws her arms around me in an eager embrace.

“Is this heaven?” I whisper.

She laughs, and it sounds like bells ringing. “No, Baby Girl, this isn’t heaven.”

I’m confused. “Then where are we?”

“I’m just paying a visit to your mind.”

“Minds are white like this?” I look around in amazement.

She lovingly pats my hand. “Yours is. It isn’t soiled and stained by hate and envy. I would say it’s as close to heaven as humanly possible.”

“Why are you visiting my mind? Shouldn’t I be in heaven with you?”

A gigantic beaming smile appears on her face. “I always told you that you were special, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand?” I say with confusion.

“You will.” She looks at me with immense pride as a hint of sorrow emanates from her beautiful, brown eyes. “I’m afraid this is a very short visit. I came to tell you two things, and then I must get back to work. Heaven is a busy place. There are lots of things to be done.”

“Don’t I get to stay with you?” I hold tightly to her hand.

“Goodness gracious, no!” she exclaims, shaking her head. She tenderly pats my cheek as her eyes fill with moisture. “You have very important work of your own to do. No, I just came to tell you how very proud I am of you.  Of course I’m proud of all my children, they’re all good people, but you and Marina are going to change the world. I always knew you would!”

“But Mama, I haven’t done anything except cause a lot of people stress,” I object. “And the only reason I was able to save James was because you helped me.”

“You still don’t see yourself clearly,” she shakes her head. “I hope you will, sooner rather than later. We all need help once in a while. Now, the next thing I need to tell you is trust your heart. You will never go wrong if you allow love to guide you. And always remember that I love you, Baby Girl.”

Mama turns to go.

“Don’t go!” I plead with her. “Don’t leave me!”

She smiles reassuringly. “Becky Jo, what are you fretting about? I’m always with you. Besides, you’re the one who has to leave.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about until I blink. When I open my eyes again, Mama and the white are gone, being replaced with hunger, thirst, and pain. I have the world’s worst headache, and my stomach growls loudly. I sit up, my muscles protest.  The action is in vain; I immediately have to close my eyes and lie back down because the room starts spinning. I am extremely lightheaded.

“You know you’re grounded,” Sunny voice resonates through the room, making my head hurt more. “Imagine my worry when the world started changing around me. You were supposed to wait. I was going to help you so you didn’t alter too much.”

“I’m sorry. I just had a feeling I had to go. How much damage have I done?” I whisper.

She laughs. “Becky Jo, you did it! You saved them! Yes, there are some differences, but they’re good differences. I’ve made you a banana, wheat-sprout smoothie to help you recover from the journey, and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What day is it?” I ask as she helps me sit up.

She doesn’t answer, taking my hand. “Becky Jo, where did you get this ring?”

I feel my fingers with my thumb and find the ring she’s referring to.

“It’s my wedding ring,” I answer. “I wasn’t supposed to have brought anything back with me, was I?”

“I don’t think so.  But, I’ve never heard of anyone doing what you did. And to answer your first question, it is March twenty-first, all day long. You were only gone for a few hours.” She puts the smoothie glass to my lips, and I gratefully empty it.

“Did they have happy lives?” I whisper, lying back down.

“Yes, Becky Jo, they did. Not a one of them haunts the old Mansion anymore.”

“That’s good.” I fight back the tears.

I saved my friends, but I lost them in the process.

*     *     *

It takes me a couple days of Sunny’s vigilant care for me to get back on my feet. I eat, sleep, and cry nonstop. I am torn between joy that my friends aren’t trapped in limbo and sorrow that I will never see them again. Due to this internal conflict, it isn’t until the twenty-third that I feel well enough to leave the house to go shopping with Sunny. It’s a good thing Mariana doesn’t arrive home from China until the twenty-fourth, giving me extra time to recover.

“Are you sure you are feeling up to this?” Sunny asks as she drives through Virginia City.

“I like the fresh air, and we need some groceries.” I say as she switches on the blinker before turning into the grocery store parking lot. I can’t survive on Sunny’s homemade granola.

“We’ll make it a quick trip,” she says as she parks the car.

When we get out of the car, I notice a major change as we walk to the store. I hang back to ask Sunny a question. “Where’s the library?” I ask, looking across the street where it should be.

“Ah, now that is an interesting story. You see, Colonel Blair’s property wasn’t sold off by Samuel, so the library was built on the other side of town. James’s property has remained intact all these years.”

I gasp at the realization of what this means for her. “Sunny, I’m really sorry! You don’t have a home, do you?”

She pats me on the back. “I didn’t buy the Mansion, but Colonel Blair’s family has been kind enough to allow me to rent it. I still live there. I just don’t have to worry about the taxes or upkeep. It gives me more time to work on my magic.”

I think about this as we load a grocery cart with food.

“Sunny, I want to know about his family,” I say as we go to the check-out. “I didn’t think I would, but I need some closure.”

She nods. “We’ll go to the Mansion, after lunch, if you promise to rest afterward.”

*     *     *

My hands start shaking when the Mansion comes into view. It looks exactly as I remembered it, as though time hasn’t touched it at all. There are even horses running in the fields.

“This is a very good change from the alternative,” Sunny says as she looks loving at the Mansion. “I act as house-sitter, and there are a couple men from the town who care for the grounds and horses.”

“It hasn’t changed at all.” I take a deep breath.

“Actually, a new addition has been built on the back to upgrade the kitchen, and they’ve added a garage, laundry room, and bathrooms. However, everything else is the same.”

It’s very difficult to enter James’s home without him there. I am grateful for the new additions, because it is easier to accept this reality in a modern kitchen. I sit at the kitchen table with Sunny as she opens a large book.

“I’ve compiled the Blair family genealogy, knowing you would want to see it,” she says.

“Why is it that you know there has been a change, but no one else does?” I ask.

“Becky Jo, I am a conjuring woman. I can sense when the world has been conjured, but so can all the other conjure women and men. I’ve received nonstop calls, from around the country, since you’ve returned. I’ve ignored their requests for information, and they’ve filled up my voicemail.  Those sensitive to magic know something extraordinary has happened.” She pats my hand. “I’ll deal with them at the next magic convention.  Let’s return to the task at hand.”

Pointing to an old picture, she smiles. “This is a lovely photo, Becky Jo. I really enjoy seeing you with him.”

I look at the picture and find James and myself dressed in our wedding clothes.

“I don’t even remember that picture being taken,” I say. “But I was struggling just to stay there at the end.”

“Your wedding picture was the last photo taken of him. He became a bit of a recluse and didn’t remarry until he was very old. His son, John, was barely sixteen when James died at the ripe old age of eighty-two,” she says. “Regardless of anything else, your decision to marry him saved his life as well as Gabe’s and Henry’s, but it was a huge gamble.  Thankfully, it paid off in the end, and all four have found peace.”

“It was his only chance.” I look at the picture of him and me and sigh. “I just wish he would have moved on with his life sooner. I was worried about that.”

Sunny pats my shoulder. “This must be difficult for you.”

“I fell in love with him, but I don’t regret it. Now, that it’s all said and done, I see it was the only way. Love was the only way to save him.” I pause for a moment. “Do you know what happened to everyone else?”

“Gabe and Henry stayed with James to the end. They built an empire here and then moved to Paris. Although neither of them married, they lived full lives, gaining the respect of others.” She shows me a picture of my old friends sitting on two beautiful horses.

“What about Clara, Ida, and Rose?”

“Rose also stayed with James. He had her buried in the family plot when she died. Clara stayed in Nevada with her family, living the remainder of her life on a reservation. Ida also left the Blair Mansion. She became a school teacher.”

“Really?” I ask.

Sunny shows me a photo of a young, black woman standing outside a small school with a class of black students. “It was difficult teaching during segregation, but she taught generations of black children to read and write. The lessons you taught Ida gave her a lifelong love of reading. When you taught her to read, you profoundly changed the future for her and thousands of others.”

I’m too overcome with emotion to speak for a few moments. Sunny understands. She, too, wipes moisture from her eyes.

“You did good,” she says through her tears. “You did good.”

“And Samuel?” I ask, having to know what happened to the evil man.

“The wedding guests were the most powerful people in the state. Samuel was tried that very night. When he was found guilty, they put a rope around his neck and hung him.”

“Did James…”

She finishes my statement. “No, he wasn’t involved in the trial in any way. According to Julia’s journal, after you were poisoned, James had a meltdown. He was completely unresponsive for three days. The poor man had lost so much; he couldn’t handle loosing you, too.”

“I’m glad he didn’t play a part in Samuel’s death,” I say with relief.

Sunny nods. “He may not have played a part in his trial, but I think there is something you should see.”

Zipping my coat, I follow Sunny into the wind. The Mansion is silent, other than the neighing of horses in the distance. I push to keep pace with Sunny, watching my feet to ensure I don’t stumble. I almost hit into Sunny when she stops.

“After all this time, it still takes my breath away,” she whispers.

My eyes follow her gaze, and I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me. There, in the Blair family cemetery, is a larger than life sculpture of a glorious angel with wings extended behind her. Her hands clutch a marble violin. Her face is carved in a likeness of my own. She looks out over the Mansion as though guarding it.

“I’ll let you have some time alone,” Sunny pats my back before going into the small cemetery.

I silently walk to the sculpture, trying to keep my hands from shaking. Who would have thought it possible to see others’ reaction to my own death? Caved on the angel’s pedestal is an inscription.

My Guardian Angel

and

Beloved Wife

Rebecca Josephine Harris Blair

You were too good to live in this world

Rest in peace and know of

my eternal love

“We loved with a love

that was more than love.”

Edgar Allan Poe

“Isn’t it the most romantic thing ever written?” a voice surprises me. I turn around to find a girl placing a single red rose in a large pile of assorted flowers on the side of the monument. “She saved his life, you know. It was her final deed before dying.”

She rises to her tiptoes and kisses the angel’s foot. She smiles bashfully at me. “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you make a wish and kiss her foot, you will find true love.”

“You came here to ask to find true love?” I’m confused.

“Everyone wants to find true love.” She reverently pats the angel’s foot. “Look at how dark this foot is compared to the rest of the statue. Generations of women and men have come here looking for her guidance. Because she died near spring, people come from far and wide to put flowers on her grave in March, but I’ve never seen it without flowers. Year round, flowers are delivered to the Blair angel.”