Her deep blush told me I was right.
“Silly girl. You felt like a whore and a wanton, didn’t you? And you told yourself you would never give in again, and then the next time he put his hands on you and you felt yourself melting inside like a piece of ice in a frying pan, you told yourself that you must be wicked and evil. Oh, I know. I’ve been through all of that, and I know that where a certain man is concerned. I’ll always be a wanton. I can’t help myself. But I’m not wicked because I’m that way. Foolish, maybe. And silly, like you. But not wicked.”
“Oh, Rhawnie!” She started to weep softly.
“I’ve upset you,” I said, “but I’m not sorry. It’s time somebody talked some sense into you. You didn’t have any brains when you ran away with that devil, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some now. You lie here day after day and wish for death, don’t you? You think I don’t know what’s in your mind? But death doesn’t solve anything. It’s only a shortcut, a coward’s choice. I found that out long ago. I didn’t think you were a coward, Gabrielle. But now I’m not so sure. Life is so precious, so easy to lose. Live, live, if only for Adam’s sake!”
“But I’m dying!” she sobbed. “I know I’m dying! I’m not a complete fool. I know I’m sick and that you only tell me I’m getting better because you’re trying to cheer me up. There’s nothing anyone can do!”
“Then be brave and accept your fate. Die a good death instead of a bad one. You can have peace instead of anguish, but you have to do it for yourself. Conquer fear. Gain wisdom. Help the rest of us to become wiser and better because we knew you. What do you think will happen when your parents hear about it? And they will. I will tell them myself because it would be cruel to let them go on thinking that someday you will come back to them. How do you think they will feel if they hear that you were desperate and alone and unhappy when you died? But if they knew that you were at peace with the world and at peace with yourself—can’t you see how much better it will be for them? And for your son? Babies know more than we think, they feel everything. He senses your despair. Well, I’ve scolded you enough. I must get down there before those apes tear the place apart. They don’t know how to respect a woman’s home. We will talk later.”
“Rhawnie, help me, help me to be brave, like you.”
“I don’t have to help you,” I said. “You are brave, or you never would have survived this long. Well, goodnight, darling. Try and sleep. I’ll come up a little later, to look in on you.”
She smiled weakly and closed her eyes. Her skin was blue and transparent, her breathing labored. The air felt damp and chilly. As winter closed in, thick fogs rolled into the Bay area from the sea. She would never get better if she stayed here, I knew that.
I started down the stairs to the music and the drinking and the laughter. This is no place for her, I thought. So noisy, so rough. And Adam. A child shouldn’t grow up in a place like this. But where can I take them? I sighed and pasted a professional-looking smile onto my lips, then I sallied into the Big Salon. These things would have to take care of themselves for the moment. I had to go to work.
Some providential spirit was watching over us that night. I played faro with a miner who wasn’t happy until I had won all his gold, and even then he didn’t want to stop. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and threw it on the table.
“It’s for a farm,” he said. “I was gonna bring the wife out, and the kids. I bought it from a greaser—a Mex—fair and square. Will you take it as a wager?”
My desk was stuffed with deeds for claims in the mountains, corner lots in San Francisco, acres of land in the desert. Of course I took his wager. After I had won and he had gone away feeling cleansed and relieved and ready to start over, I took the deed over to the Professor and made him read it to me. I had a feeling about that farm—he told me I had won a house and fifty acres of land near San Mateo, south of San Francisco. But thats all he could tell from the deed. I decided to see for myself.
I rode down the peninsula very early the next morning to inspect my property. I didn’t tell Gabrielle about the farm because I didn’t want to raise false hopes. I found a man in the village who knew the property well; he had worked for the former owners, the Mendozas. Juan was garrulous and happy, and eager to show me around my farm.
I was delighted with it. In addition to the house, which was perfect, I had won about two hundred olive trees, a hundred lemon trees, and a little stretch of vineyard. The house was only one story high, but it was built around an open courtyard that had a pool and a fountain in the center. Its red tiled roof flamed in the afternoon sun. The adobe walls would provide splendid insulation in winter and summer, and there were fireplaces in most of the rooms, something that the hastily-built structures in San Francisco lacked.
“Why did the Mendozas sell out?” I asked Juan.
He shrugged. “They did not like the Americanos. They did not want to live in America. So they go back to Mexico. Me, I like it here. I stay. The Americans are not too bad. You like this place? You will live here, Senora?”
“Yes, I like it very much.” There was no furniture in the house, and squatters had left the house in rather a mess, but there wasn’t anything wrong that couldn’t be remedied quickly and easily.
Juan showed me around the buildings and stables. There was a smokehouse, a barn, some little houses for workers, all empty and deserted.
“Listen, Juan,” I said, “I need some people to stay here, to live here and make it a good farm again. Do you know anyone who would like to work for me?”
"Yes, Senora!” he said happily. “I would! And my wife and my fifteen children and also my brother and his family. It will be a pleasure Senora!”
I gave him some money to hire men and to start repairs on the house. I planned to bring Gabrielle down within the week, along with Maria and her two children and of course, baby Adam. Gabrielle would like it here. And perhaps she would even get stronger and better. I didn’t want to give up hope for her completely.
The move wasn’t too difficult. I hired three wagons and filled two of them with furniture and bedding and foodstuffs. Gabrielle was truly delighted with her new home.
“I will try to get well,” she promised me. “I really will. I want to live, to see Adam grow up.”
I spent a week on the farm, getting things organized and making sure that my charges were settling in all right. Maria showed an unexpected flair for cooking. Kim had taught her to make some Chinese dishes, and once I broke her of the habit of putting hot peppers into everything, her cuisine was quite acceptable.
Why do you have to go back?” Gabrielle asked. It was the day I planned to return to San Francisco.
I laughed. “Because the Professor simply cannot cope without me. He hates running the business alone. He’s terrified of being cheated by the customers. And of course the staff takes advantage of him when I’m not there. That’s all right—they take advantage of me, too. But asking Professor to look after things for more than a week is like telling a child to sail a ship. He’s petrified.”
I stooped over and threw another piece of wood on the fire in her room. There were no curtains on the windows, only shutters; no rugs on the floor, no furniture other than a table near the bed and a couple of hard chairs. Nothing soft that could incubate more disease. But Juan had brought her a cactus in a pot, and it stood like a spikey sentinel near the door. A few pictures on the walls and a few other plants made the bare room seem more cheerful. It was December now, and the air was damp and cold at night. We kept a low fire burning at all times, to keep Gabrielle warm and dry.
“Rhawnie?” Her voice sounded small and thin, like a little girl’s.
“Yes, dearest?”
“Rhawnie, do you ever think about that man, the one you told me about? The one you met when you were young like me?”
“Oh, yes,” I answered with perfect truth. “I think about him all the time.” I thought about him and wished him in Hell, but I didn’t tell her that.
“Do you ever want to stop thinking about him?”
I shrugged. “I suppose so. But his memory is a warning to me never to be foolish about love again. I know I’m a Gypsy and that Gypsies aren’t suppose to dwell on the past—what’s done is done. Except my business with him isn’t finished. And he has had too great an influence on my life for me to be able to forget him easily.”
“I think about Boris,” she admitted. “It’s very hard not to sometimes. Compared to some of the others, like Ratbane, he was an angel.”
“No, he was just a smaller devil. But a devil nonetheless. But you have too much time to think. Hurry up and get strong so that I can put you to work in my vineyards. There’s plenty to be done! Well, I will say goodbye to you now. I need to start back at once if I’m to make it before dark. You know what that city’s like. But I will visit soon, I promise. And I’ll bring baskets of good things to eat and drink, and some newspapers and books, if I can find them. They will make the time pass more quickly for you.”
I rode back to San Francisco. The trip took about three hours. I arrived early in the evening, but the Golden Gypsy and the other casinos were already in full swing. I dismounted and handed the reins to my doorman, then I went inside. A few of the miners cheered my return and I greeted them gaily. I didn’t stop to change my clothes. I went into the Little Salon to the left of the doors and said,
“Hello, everybody. I’m back!”
The bartender shouted a greeting, as did the croupiers, and a dozen men actually cheered. I went to the big faro table to say hello to the Professor. And there, in the dealer’s chair, sat Seth McClelland.
I didn’t even pause for breath. I whipped my knife out of my boot top and hurled myself at his back.
Something warned him of the danger. He leaped up, sending his chair flying across the room, and he caught my wrist and twisted. I dropped the knife.
“Let me go, you filth!” I gasped. “I’m going to kill you, right here!”
Drunken miners crowded around us, cheering. Fools. They liked anything exciting.
“Now, Rhawnie,” Seth said with a slightly wounded tone in his voice that suggested that I should have been happier to see him. “This is no way to greet an old friend.”
“It’s the only way I know to greet a liar and a traitor! Filth! Deserter! You left me—with those monsters out there! You stole my horses and my jewels and—”
“Calm down,” he said. “I didn’t steal anything. You’re imagining—”
“I’m not imagining anything! Oh, let me go! Let me go and I’ll tear your heart right out of your body with my teeth!”
He scooped me up and slung me over his shoulder. The miners cheered and parted to let us pass. He hardly seemed to notice as he carried me up the stairs that I was flailing and kicking and shouting like a wounded banshee. He kicked open the door to my sitting room and carried me inside, then set me down. I threw myself at him again, but he caught me in a tight embrace and kissed me. When he finally released me I was breathless and panting and still furious.
“You get out of here,” I said, wiping my mouth with my hand. “This is my place. Mine! I’m going to have you thrown out of here so fast—”
I went to the door but he neatly blocked my way. “It won’t do any good to call for help,” he said reasonably. “Your staff wouldn’t be very likely to throw out their new employer.”
“What are you taking about?” I demanded. “This place belongs to me. And the Professor. We’re partners.”
“You were partners,” he corrected me. “The Professor sold his interest to me. He had a real yen to see the gold fields. You were away and he grabbed the opportunity to get out. I’m afraid you had the poor fellow rather intimidated, my dear. He admitted that you were a hell of a woman, too much woman for him.”
Then he sat down in the chair in front of my desk, put his feet up on its cluttered surface, and lit a cigar.
“Welcome to the Golden Gypsy, San Francisco’s finest!” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Mister and Mrs. Seth McClelland, proprietors.”
19
The Golden West
I STARED AT HIM, completely dumbfounded. I sank down on a chair at the other side of the room from him.
“You’re a rotten liar,” I said. “You’ve killed him, haven’t you?”
“Rhawnie,” he gave me a reproachful smile,” I wouldn’t do a thing like that. I paid the Professor ten thousand dollars for this place. A lot more than you paid for it, I understand.”
“It’s worth five times that much,” I sniffed. “How did you get the money?”
“Won it at poker. From Black Jack MacDaniel, next door. A friend of yours, I understand. He speaks very highly of you, Baroness.”
“You are the lowest, most arrogant creature,” I said through my teeth. “Well, I can’t tolerate this. I won’t! I’ll buy it back from you, right now. Ten thousand dollars, just what you paid.”
He grinned and studied the glowing tip of his cigar. “No,” he said. I started to rise out of my chair but he put out a hand as if to say, hold on a second and let me finish. “It’s not that I don’t want to deal with you, Baroness. But I have examined your so-called records.”
He waved his hand over the welter of papers on my desk. Since Gabrielle had been with me I hadn’t had a minute to spare to attend to the details of the business. Not that I would have attended to them anyway; paperwork wasn’t my strongest suit.
Seth went on. “Such wanton extravagance! Such wild spending! I’ve seen enough to know that even though this place is turning a fine profit, you owe everybody in the city and you continue to spend the money as quickly as it comes in. My dear, you don’t have a loose dollar to your name. Ten thousand dollars? You’d have trouble raising half that amount. But all that will change. I’ll take over the bookkeeping. I’m sure you won’t have any objections. Amazing.” He shook his head unbelievingly. “All that money. Where has it gone?”
“Things are ridiculously expensive here,” I said defensively. “Oh, what’s the matter with me?” I jumped up and waved my arms. “Get out of my room and don’t you ever come in here again! I don’t care if you do own half this place now, you have your own rooms, right next door. This is my sitting room and you are not welcome! Out!” I threw open the door. Then I started to gather up armfuls of papers and I threw them out into the hall. “And take this stuff with you! I don’t want any part of it—or of you!” I faced him angrily. “I intend to have as little to do with you as possible, is that clear? I will continue to gamble with whomever I wish and I will attract crowds—and don’t fool yourself into thinking that anything else attracts these men to this place—and I will continue to spend my share of the profits as I see fit. What you do with yours is your own business. Now leave me alone, Seth McClelland. Just leave me alone!”
I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. I was shaking from head to toe. He was such a bastard. Every time my life seemed to have straightened itself out a little, he turned up and bent it into a pretzel. But I was determined not to let him best me this time. I was finished with Seth.
And what about Gabrielle? He hadn’t asked me about her. He had probably searched everywhere and given up hope of finding her. Clearly no one had told him about the sick woman I had been nursing in my rooms for the past four weeks. I should tell him, I thought. But I knew I wouldn’t. Not only because of my promise to her, but because he had earned no favors from me.
The next morning I found him in the Lounge. He was having his breakfast, reading the Alta California, San Francisco’s first newspaper. He looked tanned and fit and utterly in command.
He handed me a ten-dollar gold piece.
“What’s this?” I asked him. “A tip for the laundress?”
“Your share from last night’s take,” he told me. “Don’t spend it foolishly.”
“What do you mean, my share?” I flared. “I saw how busy those tables were last night. I’m not that much of an idiot. We must have tak
en in three thousand dollars or more!”
“Ah, but I have deducted your share of the operating expenses and the outstanding debts,” he said. “Both of which were considerable. You don’t want to lose your credit, do you?”
“Credit!” I shouted. “What do I care for credit! These fools can wait for their money. But I can’t wait! I need some new dresses and—”
“Your finery will have to wait,” he shrugged. “You’ll be happy to know that my share was the same. Do you know that your staff hasn’t been paid for over a month? They didn’t walk out on you because they trust you, but that’s no way to run a business. And this hors d’oeuvres nonsense is out, too. No more food. In fact, I’m turning this lounge into another gaming room. That’s where the real money is.”
“No! I forbid it. What do you mean, no more food? It’s a very important part of the Golden Gypsy. What about the members? The most important men in the city meet here and drink and talk and eat my food!”
“No,” he corrected me, “the most important men are the ones who come here to gamble. Keep Kim—he’s a fine cook—but no more food for public consumption. It’s much too costly.”
“But we were going to add a restaurant!” I cried. “This was a way of building up interest—”
“No. Restaurants are notorious money-losers. Great potential for waste. We’re here to gamble, Rhawnie. And to sell liquor. No food. At a hundred and fifty dollars for a barrel of flour and ten dollars for an egg, it’s a wonder that anyone can afford to eat these days.”
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