Into the face of the devil: A love story from the California gold rush

by John Rose Putnam

  I heard a door close and turned to see Eban heading down the stairs from the porch. It struck me how much he looked like my Pa. Both were stocky and had a bowlegged walk, but now Eban’s hair had turned almost white while Pa only had a touch of gray when he died. It had been the resemblance that drew me to Eban on the first day we met. I hadn’t thought about it much since.

  He started talking as soon as he hit the bottom step. “Well, Tom, I guess we got kicked out of our beds. Are you going to be okay sleeping on the cot in the cafe?”

  I hesitated a bit to mull over what he’d asked me. “Yeah, I guess so.” I said finally. I didn’t mind giving up my room to Lacey. I knew that was the gentlemanly thing to do. Besides, Eban let Mrs. Wimmer use his big feather bed in the dormer room upstairs next to Maggie and Joshua’s so he had to sleep in the freight office. No, something else about Lacey sleeping in my bed made my insides feel jittery again, like they had when she grinned at me after Eban told me I was a godfather.

  “Hey, sleeping in the cafe ain’t that bad is it?” Eban must have noticed my mood.

  “No, it’s okay.” I answered. “It’s Lacey. She makes me feel funny, I guess.”

  “She’s a pretty girl,” he said. “And pretty girls can have a powerful pull on a young man like you, makes him think about getting married and raising a family.”

  “Getting married! I ain’t thought about that none.”

  Eban grinned. “Ain’t Josie the prettiest baby you ever saw? And with a ma as good-looking as Maggie and a pa as handsome as Joshua, she’s going to grow up to be one eye-catching woman. You can bet your whole stake on that,” he crowed, sounding real proud.

  I’d never seen a newborn baby before, much less one as young as Josie, but I had seen some calves and a foal or two and even a day-old lamb once. They were all real cute, not pretty mind you, but cute. Now Josie was special, sure, but she only had a few ratty strands of brown hair on a head way too big and wrinkly skin as red as a beet. Maybe she would grow up to be pretty like Maggie but right now she had a long way to go.

  I didn’t answer Eban and we walked down the hill together in the dark.

  At the log bridge he stopped. “Son, you and Lacey looked like you were getting along pretty good. Did she tell you anything about why she came to Coloma?”

  “Not much, she said she rode up there looking for her Pa.” I walked on few paces then turned back to face him. “Did she tell you anything, or maybe Mrs. Wimmer?” I asked, suddenly awful curious.

  “A little, she came from San Francisco. Her Pa’s named Webster Lawson. She’s real scared something happened to him. After that she didn’t want to talk about much. But three men turned up dead around Coloma in the last few weeks, two shot in the back, one beat to death, but Lacey’s pa ain’t one of them.”

  My face tightened. “Holy Moses, three guys dead, that’s bad!” I said, knowing that fear had come into my eyes like it had to Lacey’s earlier. One night last fall after Eban told me the men who murdered my brothers were chasing Maggie—I reckon ‘cause she’s so pretty—and he thought they might be in town, I swore I’d do anything I could to save her. In no time the scar-faced guy busted through the cabin door and shot Eban. I went after Scarface but he knocked me cold. Later, after I came to, Scarface and Joshua had at it. When Scarface shot Joshua I jumped in to help. Scarface near choked me dead, but I gave Joshua the time he needed to save our necks.

  Eban smiled like he wasn’t worried at all. “Take it easy, son. I don’t think anybody’s going to come looking for us this time,” he said like he’d read my mind.

  He’d almost died that night but Maggie dug the bullet out and saved him. I figured if Eban wasn’t worried maybe I didn’t need to be either, so I let out a long sigh. Now I could ask about what really bothered me.

  “So Lacey came all the way from San Francisco? No wonder she knew about the roll-up pants they sell there,” I blurted.

  Eban chuckled. “Did she ride you about your trousers being short?”

  “Yeah, she sure did! How’d you know that?”

  “Women are like that, son, when they like a man.” He looked toward the cafe. “Come on, let’s heat up some coffee and I’ll help you get the cafe squared away so you won’t have to do it in the morning.”

  Walking across the bridge my mind wandered back to Lacey and her pa. “So why would Lacey come to the gold country all by herself to find her pa, Eban? Wouldn’t she want to stay home with her ma like most gals do?”

  Eban rubbed his chin like he always did when he thought. We stopped on the far side of the bridge to let a miner headed east ride by. “You know I spent time with Fremont’s California Battalion during the war with Mexico, don’t you?” he asked.

  “I thought you and Joshua came here with General Kearny.”

  “After Fremont went south to fight the Mexicans he sent me east with Kit Carson. After we met Kearny on the trail we came back here with him. That’s how I met Joshua.”

  I nodded, “Okay, but what’s that got to do with Lacey?”

  “I’ll get to Lacey and her ma in a bit. First you need to hear the whole story. Fremont, with about fifty sharpshooters, came all the way across the country to map California, or so he said. When the Bear Flag Revolt happened and right after that the war with Mexico Fremont formed his battalion. I joined as a muleskinner, hauling stuff from here to there to get things set up for a new fighting unit. Those supplies got here way before the war, and Major Webster Lawson signed the shipping orders on everything I hauled. Sure as shooting, that’s Lacey’s pa.”

  “Holy Moses, if he was with Fremont then how did Lacey get out here?”

  “Well, seems he wasn’t with Fremont. He came on a ship from the east, way back in forty-five. They say his wife, that’s Lacey’s ma, died on that trip. Folks I know who saw him in San Francisco in the days before the war told me he didn’t wear a uniform. He said he was an agent for a sailing company that wanted to build up business here in California, but those supplies we got came off whalers, ships headed for the fur trade up Oregon way and even ones that ran out to the Sandwich Islands and back. A lot of the provisions had been stored sometime way before most folks here had a whiff of an idea about a war with Mexico breaking out so soon.”

  “You mean to say that President Polk planned on having a war with Mexico?”

  “That’s what it looks like,” Eban answered matter of fact like.

  Together we stepped up onto the plank walkway in front of the cafe. “Gosh, Eban, does that mean Lacey’s pa is some sort of spy or something?”

  “No, not a spy, but he worked for the Army and he must have been sent here to help Fremont get the war supplies that couldn’t be packed across the mountains. Bringing his family made the Major look like a civilian to the Mexicans. It could have been something the army did just in case, but there’s folks who say the whole war was planned out just to get California into the union.”

  I pushed open the cafe’s front door then held it for Eban to go in first. “So why did Major Lawson come to the gold country? There ain’t no war here,” I wondered.

  Eban fired up a lamp. “I don’t know,” he said. “The last I heard of Webster Lawson was almost two years ago. It’s as much a puzzle to me as it is to you. I asked Lacey if her pa was in the army. She said he had been back in Washington.”

  While Eban lit another lamp in the kitchen, I tossed some kindling into the stove and put the pot on top. “Coffee’ll be hot soon,” I called.

  “That’s good.” Eban said, his hands already elbow deep in wash water. “You’ll be around Lacey a lot for a while. Maybe you can find out more from her. To tell the truth, something must have bothered that girl enough to take a whopping big risk coming up here like she did. And those murders in Coloma rub my hackles wrong for sure.”

  I grabbed a towel and began to dry. After what Eban said the fear I’d noticed lurking earlier in Lacey’s eyes made sense. She must know something. Why else would she come so far alone? Maybe she
would tell me. Maybe I could help find her pa.

  2

  A bright morning sun ambushed me as I walked out of the stable. I threw up a hand to block it and quickly turned west to put the glare behind me. Eban left early for Coloma with a wagonload of shovels and took Mrs. Wimmer with him. The last of our other wagons had pulled out for Sacramento City and I could still hear Woody Dunn yelling at the mules while the rig rolled down Main Street.

  At the cafe I pushed open the back door, grabbed two oak pails from inside and toted them to the well where I filled them with fresh, cool water. Inside I tossed wood into the stove and started mixing up a batch of biscuits.

  After I rolled out the dough the bell on the door jingled. It was way too early for customers so I kept working. Besides I thought it might be Lacey right off. She would come back here. I pulled out a biscuit cutter and started in on whacking out round hunks of dough and setting them onto a flat tin sheet. I’d almost filled it when she walked into the doorway.

  “You’re still the handiest boy around the kitchen I’ve ever seen.”

  I glanced up to see her leaning against the doorjamb again, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She looked a lot different than she did yesterday. It seemed like she’d tried to make herself homelier, but she was just naturally too pretty to pull that off. The pigtails did make her look younger. And her dress, one of Maggie’s old ones, was faded and not as eye-catching as the yellow one, but she still filled it out real nice. I figured that somehow she looked a lot more winsome now that she didn’t look so fetching.

  “How’s Maggie?” I asked, ignoring her barb about being handy in the kitchen.

  “So you ask how Maggie is but you don’t even care how I am,” she shot back, her tone scruffy, like I’d riled her.

  I didn’t look up. “I know how you are. You’re just as sassy as you were yesterday, but I haven’t seen Maggie today and she’s the one that just had a baby.” I started sifting more flour for a second batch of biscuits.

  “Maggie’s doing fine and so is little Josie. We all had breakfast together,” she said gently and I heard the soft pitter-patter of her footsteps coming toward me. “Is there something I can do to help?” she asked so downright sweet that it made my heart thump fast again.

  I gazed into her deep blue eyes and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. She broke a sheepish grin and looked down. She didn’t say anything so I kept talking. “We need to get the dining room ready for lunch, make sure the tables are clean and the floor is swept up. It’s Saturday and we’ll be powerful busy most all day.”

  I thought Lacey would run right off to start sweeping but she stood there, twirling a finger in one of her pigtails.

  I heard her gasp. “Maggie said you saved her life!” The words came out so fast the last one nearly tumbled over the first.

  I grabbed the milk and slowly poured some into the bowl. I didn’t want to answer her. I didn’t know what to say. None of us ever wanted to talk about what happened that night.

  She turned sideways, still playing with her hair. “I worried about it so much I couldn’t sleep.” She still talked way too fast, but seemed a little calmer.

  I rolled up another ball of dough, wiped my hands on a towel and gave Lacey a small headshake and a big shrug. “It was no big deal.” I said. “Any miner on Hangtown Creek would’ve helped Maggie then.”

  “Maggie wouldn’t say anything about it either, but she told me that’s why you’re Josie’s godfather.” Lacey used the same scruffy tone she had earlier then took a deep breath. “Why won’t you tell me?” she moaned and now her voice came across softer, more like a whine.

  She had that big-eyed look about her too, like she had last night when Eban told me I was a godfather. And I had that same fluttery butterfly feeling jumbling up in my gut again, only strung a lot tighter now. I sprinkled a handful of flour on the cutting board and decided to change the subject. “Eban says you’re looking for your pa. I know how you came to Coloma, but how did you get from San Francisco to Sacramento?”

  “A man Papa knows gave me a ride in his boat.” She sounded eager to talk about coming here. Maybe she would tell me something that could help find her pa.

  “That was nice of him,” I said, “but didn’t you think that coming to the gold country would be dangerous—a young girl like you here with all these lonesome men?” I dumped the dough onto the floured cutting board a lot harder than I meant to. Maybe I was still a bit chafed at her for all the flirting she did with the customers yesterday.

  “Mr. Flanagan told me that,” she agreed. “He didn’t want to bring me. I’d thought he might be hard to convince. That’s why I wore my new dress and put my hair up and all. It’s always easier to talk men into things when you look your best.”

  I sprinkled more flour over the dough ball. “I sailed across the bay with Shamus Flanagan once and he made that trip a whole lot of fun,” I admitted. For some reason I was glad a man I knew had brought Lacey to Sacramento City, but I was still sore. “Is that what you were doing yesterday, looking pretty and trying to get men to do something for you?” I demanded, still feeling a little like I’d been taken advantage of.

  I picked up the rolling pin and my eyes found hers. She had the sheepish grin across her face again but looked at me without a batting an eye and nodded. “I wanted you to feed me,” she admitted. “I was so hungry. Then I thought somebody who ate here might know Papa and tell him where I was. Later, when you told me about being the only marrying age girl east of Sacramento City I got scared. Last night I asked Maggie about it. She said it would be best to not draw so much attention.”

  “Well, if somebody does know your pa he’s bound to hear about you soon,” I agreed. And with the rolling pin in both hands, I knocked the dough ball flat and pushed the pin over it first one way then another. “I can see how you got here easy enough, but why did you come in the first place? Ain’t it dangerous for a woman to travel alone? Wasn’t there somebody in San Francisco to take care of you?”

  Her eyebrows scrunched together, dragging deep ruts into her forehead. “I was at home with Rosa, our housekeeper. But there’s a man named Barkley who lives close by. He’s ugly and mean and I hate him! I hate him!” She yelled, both fists pounding the table.

  I dropped the rolling pin. “Lacey . . .?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll be okay,” she sighed and looked down at her trembling fists, her eyes wide, the glitter of tears covering her fear.

  But she took a deep breath and kept talking. “He always tried to get me to go to his house. I was afraid of him. Then after Papa left he climbed through my window. He must’ve thought I was asleep. I wasn’t. I screamed as loud as I could!” She sucked down another breath. “Rosa yelled back and that must have scared him. He swore he’d get me, then climbed back out the window laughing. I was terrified. I left the next day.” She wiped her eyes and sniffled, but she didn’t cry. Her hands shook but at least but she was talking now.

  I didn’t know what to say about this Barkley guy, but maybe she would tell me more about her pa. “You told Eban your pa wasn’t in the army when you came to California, but Eban said that a Major Webster Lawson signed supply orders for Fremont’s California battalion. That had to be your pa.”

  When I looked up her face had bleached whiter than the flour and her eyes bulged like she’d seen a will-o-the-wisp. ”Does that mean my Papa is still in the army?” she whimpered.

  “Yeah, it looks like he is,” I went on, feeling like a rotten heel for causing her more grief. “Look, I reckon he was doing something meaningful here, but what did he do in Washington?”

  She took a deep breath and calmed down some. “I don’t know much, but I always thought what he did was important. He worked for General Scott—”

  “Winfield Scott!” I exclaimed. “He won the war in Mexico!”

  “Yeah, but that was after Papa came to California,” she said then perked up. “Papa even had dinner at the White House sometimes. He knows Pres
ident Polk and a lot of senators and congressmen. He’d take Mama and me to the park in our carriage on summer Sunday afternoons and all sorts of famous men would stop us just to say hello and maybe ask him a question. Mama said he would be a general soon.”

  Holy Moses, I thought. Lacey’s pa really did sound like an important man.

  “In San Francisco, after Mama died on the boat, I had to be the hostess when company came. I met Commodore Stockton and Governor Mason and even that young Lieutenant Sherman.” She smiled wide and her eyes had a far off look in them.

  When she mentioned that Sherman guy a bolt of jealousy struck my heart and I almost got riled again, but like lightning it faded fast. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. The cafe’s closed. We can get some horses from the stable and maybe ride around and look for your pa. Would you like that?” I tried my best to sound helpful but mostly I wanted to be with her somewhere outside the cafe.

  Her eyes grew as big as hen’s eggs. “Oh, yes! I’d love it! Can we, please, please?” She hopped up and down, flapping her arms like a chicken trying to fly.

  “Sure we can. You can ride Maggie’s chestnut. She won’t be using him tomorrow anyhow. Maybe Eban will let me ride the dun. We’ll go along the creek and talk to the miners. Somebody might know where we can find your pa.”

  “Yes, oh yes! You’re wonderful.” She stopped hopping and bolted around the table. Before I had a chance to duck she planted a sloppy, wet kiss on my left cheek and ran off. She grabbed the broom and disappeared into the dining room. In no time I heard a steady swish, swish, swish as she swept the floor.

  I wiped my cheek with my palm and gave it a hard look for any sign of what Lacey had done to me. In spite of it all my face seemed fine, but when I picked up the rolling pin and started back in on the biscuit dough I realized I had no idea how to untie the knot that twisted up deep in my gut.

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