A Veiled Reflection

by Tracie Peterson

  “You’re on speaking terms with him?” Jillian questioned, finding it hard to imagine she could be so forgiving.

  “Sometimes you have to face the devil head on,” Mary replied.

  Inside the Harvey House, Jillian watched as Cooper openly flirted with every Harvey Girl who passed his table. The ladies had been amply warned about people like Cooper, but some of them seemed to enjoy the attention. Jillian found her anger mounting as she considered all that she’d been told about Cooper. How could he have done such a violent thing to Little Sister and then show his face among decent people?

  He looked up, seeming to sense her gaze, and smiled. Jillian shuddered and turned away, while Mary handed her the blanket and moved toward Cooper’s table.

  “Mr. Cooper, we need to talk,” she announced.

  “Why, Mrs. Barnes, it’s always a pleasure,” Cooper said congenially. Jillian didn’t wait to hear more. She hurried upstairs with her keepsake and went to find her money. She hadn’t thought to ask Mary for the price of the blanket, so she tucked all of her money in her pocket, fixed her hair, then made her way back downstairs. She had just come down the hall and into the dining room when Mary, seated at Cooper’s table, laughed heartily, then got to her feet.

  “I’ll be expectin’ you to hold to that,” she told the man, then spied Jillian. Coming to where Jillian stood in complete confusion, Mary said, “You’re gonna collect flies that way.”

  “Huh?”

  The older woman chuckled. “You keep your mouth open that way and you’re gonna collect flies.”

  “I guess I was just surprised to see you laughing with that . . . that man.”

  Mary shrugged. “Business is business. Remember what I said earlier about catchin’ more flies with sugar than vinegar?” She laughed and slapped her hand against her side. “Must have flies on my mind, they keep coming up in the conversation.”

  Jillian shook her head. What a strange little woman.

  “I’ve changed my mind on the pie,” Mary told her, moving toward the door. “I’ve got a feeling I ought to be gettin’ home. It’s a rough piece to drive in the dark. Maybe I’ll be seein’ you to church on Sunday.”

  “Actually, I have to work that day,” Jillian admitted.

  “Mr. Harvey should be ashamed of himself for having you girls workin’ on the Lord’s Day.”

  Jillian shrugged. “Guess as long as the trains run on that day, Mr. Harvey will see to the food. Oh, by the way, I brought you money for the blanket.”

  Mary shook her head. “You’ve already given me a good amount of cash as a donation for the Navajo. That’s more than enough to buy a blanket. Thanks again for the help.”

  Jillian watched her go, then turned to go back upstairs. She caught sight of Cooper watching her and forced herself to give him a hard, distasteful stare. He grinned, causing her to realize this was not a game she could win. Realizing that, Jillian took herself upstairs for a long soak in a tub of hot water.

  * * *

  “I just wish he wouldn’t even come here,” Gwen told Zack Matthews. She glanced past the sheriff to where Cooper was just finishing up his meal.

  “If he causes you any grief, just come get me,” Zack told her.

  Gwen smiled, feeling rather shy at his obvious protective nature toward her. “Sam won’t tolerate much around here. He’s a good manager and sees to it that the girls are safe and treated right. Cooper just makes me uneasy.”

  “Well, just forget about him,” Zack said with a smile. “Why don’t you sit down here with me and we can make some plans.”

  Gwen glanced around the room, and seeing that everything was in order, she nodded and took a chair. When Zack smiled at her, she felt giddy like a schoolgirl. Funny, she hadn’t felt that way in years. When her first love had died years earlier, she had almost been convinced that her heart would never heal from the pain and loss she suffered. But now . . . well, time would tell, but she liked the way things were developing between herself and Zack. And she liked being able to feel happy again in the presence of a man.

  Later that night when Kate and Louisa had come to bed, Jillian found herself contemplating the day’s events. She thought of the anger and hatred she had seen in Bear’s expression. She remembered Mary’s words and realized that Bear held his own prejudice against the white people. He thinks we’re all alike, Jillian reasoned. Just like many of the folks in Pintan believe all Indians to be the same.

  “May I ask you both something?” she questioned her roommates.

  Kate looked up from the stocking she was darning and nodded. “Aye, ya can for sure be askin’ me anythin’ ya like.”

  “Me too,” Louisa replied, her voice betraying her weariness. She plopped out across her bed, rolling to her side. “What do you want to know?”

  Jillian sat down on her bed and tucked her legs up. “What do you think about the Indians around here?”

  “What would ya be meanin’ by that?” Kate asked, resuming her stitches.

  “It’s just that a lot of people really seem to hate the Indians. They feel that the Indians are sub-human or at least not equal to white folks. At the same time, I talked with Mary Barnes, and it seems some of the Indians feel the same about us. I just wondered what your opinion on the matter was.”

  “Me own people have suffered greatly for the snooty ways of folks. Ya know for yarself, as ya lived a life of privilege, most of the world sees us as a bunch of dumb ol’ Micks. We get the washin’-up jobs and the muckin’-out jobs, but when it comes to doin’ the nicer things or marryin’ upwards in society, then folks remind us of where we belong.”

  Jillian frowned. She knew Kate spoke the truth. People were often cruel and heartless to anyone who spoke differently or dressed in ways that seemed foreign. Jillian had heard tales of the ugly riots and street fights when former slaves had tried to get work after the War Between the States. Worse still, she remembered an incident a few years back, when a terrible murder had taken place when a black man had tried to marry a white woman. The woman’s father had shot the man through the heart, but the woman’s reputation was ruined. Eventually, she succumbed to pneumonia and died, but the controversy lived on and was still talked about in hushed whispers.

  Louisa spoke up rather hesitantly. “I . . . well . . . I know this might sound silly. . . .”

  “No, it won’t,” Jillian said, focusing her thoughts back on the present.

  “Well, the Indians scare me. I’ve put in for a transfer as soon as my contract is up.”

  “That doesn’t sound silly,” Jillian replied. “A good many people are afraid of the Indians. Do you know why they scare you?”

  Louisa shook her head. “They just do. I suppose some of the stories I’ve been told about them going on the warpath and killing white settlers stick in my head. My father told me never to get far from town or one might steal me away and make me a slave. He told me horrible things about some Indian war in a place called Little Big Horn. He thought the government should have exterminated them all for what they did to General Custer and his men.”

  “Exterminate? Like the rodents that get into the pantry?” Jillian questioned softly. “But they’re human beings. They’re people just like us. How could anyone think of killing off a race of people for nothing more than being different than we are?”

  “I’m supposin’ it has more to do with the Indian Wars themselves,” Kate suggested. “I mean, plenty of folks recall only too well bein’ scared half out of their wits by threats of Indian raids. I don’t imagine they give much thought to it bein’ a matter of skin color so much as a matter of survival.”

  “But I hardly think we have much to worry about in this day and age. Why, it’s almost 1900. Even the West is settling down. Soon you won’t know the difference in living life out here or back East.”

  “Of course you’d say that, Judith. You’re very brave, but I am not,” Louisa said quite seriously. “I’d just as soon go back to Kansas, where I was trained. I don’t like it he
re. It’s out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but snakes and lizards. I really hate those little creatures.”

  “It for sure ain’t as hot in Kansas as it is here,” Kate threw in. “I’m not lookin’ forward to another summer here. Maybe I should go puttin’ in for a transfer as well.”

  “Well, I for one plan to quit when my year is up,” Jillian announced. Both Kate and Louisa looked at her like she’d said something of such surprise and importance that Jillian glanced quickly around the room. “What is it?”

  “Yarself,” Kate said. “Are ya really gonna quit?”

  Jillian nodded. “That’s my plan.”

  “Since when?” Louisa asked. “You’ve never once said anything about quitting.”

  “That’s for sure,” Kate said. “I thought ya liked yar independence.” “I do,” Jillian admitted. She truly did love the freedom she’d found in her life. But if she were to abide by her father’s wishes and honor him for the permission he’d granted her in fulfilling Judith’s contract, she would have to return to Kansas City. At least for a time.

  Yawning, Kate looked at her stocking, then put it aside. “I’m thinkin’ for sure it’s near time for lights out. Besides that, I’m havin’ trouble keepin’ me eyes open.”

  “Me too,” Louisa said, looking over the side of the bed before getting up. They were always to check the floor before stepping out of bed, but it was a habit Louisa had down to a fine art form. “It’s my turn to put out the lamp, so you both go ahead and get in bed.”

  “Don’t be forgettin’ to check your bedding,” Kate admonished.

  Louisa pulled down her covers and sheets and gave everything a generous shake. “Kansas City won’t have scorpions and centipedes either.”

  Jillian laughed and rechecked her covers before settling into bed.

  “No, we don’t have those.”

  Louisa turned down the lamp and climbed into bed. “Good night,” she said, yawning most unladylike as she spoke.

  Jillian smiled to herself. In spite of Louisa’s poor manners and Kate’s outspokenness, she liked them both very much. She thought about her sheltered life and how her mother would find such people to be quite intolerable. Why, neither one of them would have even been considered good enough to work in the Danvers household, much less to be friends of anyone in her family.

  Jillian remember Reverend Lister’s sermon and the words he’d read from the Bible. The attitude Jillian had been raised with all of her life was clearly not pleasing to God. It was, in fact, a sin.

  This came as a hard revelation for Jillian. She had always considered herself to have lived a good and godly life. She didn’t give religious matters much consideration, mainly because her father did the thinking in their family—as well as the spiritual reasoning. But here was a fact she could not ignore. It was given in the Bible, and she knew her father respected that book as the Word of God. Had he never read the passages that spoke to treating people differently because of their looks or education? Maybe he didn’t realize that such a scripture was there. After all, it was a very big book.

  Jillian found it impossible to sleep with all of this playing on her heart. Something was happening to her. Her safe, cozy world no longer seemed quite so nice. With each passing day, she saw new reasons to disdain much of what she had been raised to believe. How could she set everything straight and put it back in order? What could she do with these conflicting feelings?

  A noise outside their window caught her attention.

  “Did you hear that?” she questioned Louisa and Kate, but both of the girls had already fallen asleep.

  Slipping from the bed, mindless of the thought that a marauding scorpion might lay in wait, Jillian moved to the window. Pulling back the heavy shade, she looked out onto the moonlit street below.

  She had to suppress a scream as she noted a lone figure standing in the darkness. The apparition stood as still as stone—arms raised toward heaven—feet slightly apart. Jillian watched in fascination, wondering who it might be. He stood just far enough in the shadows that she couldn’t make out the person’s identification, but as if sensing that someone was watching, the figure turned and walked toward the building.

  Jillian could now see, much to her surprise, that the man was Little Sister’s brother, Bear.

  He glanced up at the window, and she knew that he could see her watching him. She thought to drop the shade back into place, but something held her fast to the spot. He considered her for only a moment before heading out of town in a dead run.

  Breathing heavily, Jillian crept back into bed, certain now that sleep would be impossible. As she lay awake, tossing and turning, it suddenly dawned on her the reason for Bear’s stance in the middle of the street. He had stood directly in front of the Indian Agent office, where Mr. Cooper kept his quarters upstairs. With this revelation, Jillian shuddered. What did it mean? Had Bear planned the demise of this man who had so greatly harmed his sister? Should Jillian tell someone what she had seen?

  EIGHT

  JILLIAN FOUND IT IMPOSSIBLE to forget the image of Bear standing in the still of the night, the wind lightly blowing against his clothes and shoulder-length black hair, his hands raised heavenward. It gave her a chill whenever she thought of it, and she wondered if she should at least say something to someone. As the days passed, however, she gradually let the memory slip away, and by the time she received her third letter from home, announcing her mother’s desire to send the earl to Pintan to meet Jillian, Bear was no more than a wisp of the past.

  The earl has seen your picture and believes you to be exactly what he is looking for in a wife, Jillian read. He is coming west to the Rocky Mountains to hunt for elk and believes it would be no trouble to make his way to Pintan.

  Jillian nearly dropped the letter right there and then. Her mother was determined to see her married to the earl of wherever it was he hailed from. She sighed. When would she ever be free of her mother’s meddling? She looked at the letter again. Why, her mother hadn’t even made mention of how happy Jillian was in Pintan. Couldn’t she understand that this new life suited her?

  Taking up a pen and paper, Jillian hurried to send her mother a reply. There would be an eastbound train at one o’clock, and Jillian intended that letter to be on board.

  Glancing at the time, she realized she would be expected to be downstairs helping with the westbound lunch train in fifteen minutes.

  She hurried to the task at hand.

  Dearest Mother,

  Please do not send the earl to see me. The man I told you about, Dr.MacCallister, has become most dear to me. He has become my best friend, and I find that I can talk to him about most anything. He is kind and considerate, and he makes me very happy. I know this will come as a shock, and I truly meant no disrespect to you or Father, but we have become engaged to be married.

  Jillian looked at the words for a moment. A deep sense of dread and remorse washed over her. How could she tell such a terrible falsehood? She had already steeped herself in this deception of Judith’s, and in a short time her contract would be up and she would be free to return home. Her parents would know the truth by then, for there would be no fiance traveling with her, no husband to remain in Pintan to come back to. She sighed again. This web of deceit was only growing bigger. She thought of Mary’s tale of Spider Woman and figured the Navajo deity could not have woven a bigger mess than Jillian had created for herself.

  She hurried to complete the letter, stressing her deep love for Mac and adding that she had come to love the territory as well. As she reread the words, Jillian was struck with an overwhelming realization that the latter was true. She had come to love Arizona. The dry climate agreed with her, and the arid terrain appealed to her sense of beauty. She enjoyed the people, at least most of them, and for the first time in her life, she had true friends. Not just friends based on her social standing, but honest-to-goodness friends who liked her and sought out her company.

  The revelation swept over her and from
it sprang up a joy that was so real and tangible she could almost touch it. “I’m happy here,” she stated aloud. “I’m happy with Arizona and the Harvey House. I’m happy with my friendships, and I love Mary and Mac.”

  Love Mac? Where had that come from? She shook her head and pushed the thought aside. But then as she reread what she’d just written to her mother, she could feel the compelling truth of her words. Mac had become most dear to her. Even now she could imagine his laughing face when she closed her eyes.

  She remembered an encounter she’d had with him the evening before when he’d come into the Harvey House. He’d sought her out, making sure she would be the one to serve him.

  “I’d much rather talk with you than the others,” he confided. “In fact, why don’t you plan to walk out with me after you’re all finished in here? I haven’t had a decent conversation all day.” He then beamed her a smile and a hopeful look of expectation.

  His words had made her feel warm inside—his expression even more so. He always made her feel as if she were the most important person in the world.

  “But love?” she questioned, letting the memory go. She looked at the letter again and shook her head.

  Surely it was just a friendship type of love. Mac had never shown her so much as the slightest indication that he could feel romantically inclined toward her. He showed her friendship—that was all.

  It was rumored that Mac had some great tragedy in his past love life and therefore had determined to spend his life as a bachelor. If there was any credence to the rumors, then Jillian knew there was little hope that he would take a liking to her. But on the other hand, she smiled wistfully, he treated her kindly and discussed matters quite openly with her.

  Another memory crept in and took her back to one Sunday when Mac had sat alongside her in the pew at church. He seemed as comfortable with her as she was with him. At least it appeared that way, and perhaps . . . perhaps that could be grounds for the beginning of something more.