by Karin, Anya
“Please, call me Goldtooth. Everyone friendly does. And he’s just the Captain. Ernie had a part in some of the most important battles of the Civil War, you know.”
Father chose not to pursue that line of conversation, instead directing talk back to the point of the two men’s visit. “I was just about to head to the claim for the day, what can I help you with?”
“Eggs?” Mr. Rawls handed a filled and covered plate to my father. “Bacon in there too. Quite good this morning. Cook outdid herself, I think. Here, have a seat.” He pushed a chair out from the breakfast table and indicated father sit in it.
Captain Ernie’s eyes never stopped moving around the room. They darted from place to place like a nervous lizard’s. I couldn’t stop looking at him though. His round, pug-like face and flat button-nose fascinated me, especially when paired with the rest of his short, stout body and thick fingers. When his gaze moved to me, I looked away briefly, but of course that’s where he decided to stop his constant glancing. I felt his eyes move up and down my person, surveying me; studying me.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “You caught me in mid-dress. I must excuse myself to finish.”
“Oh, Clara,” Goldtooth said as he turned toward me, “I didn’t notice you there. Please, don’t be inconvenienced by our presence. We won’t be long.”
Thank the Lord for that.
Back upstairs, I was still able to hear the proceedings clearly, but without that lecherous man gazing lustily upon me and was instantly more comfortable. I busied myself with dressing in my claim-working skirts and apron to keep from eavesdropping too much. At least that was my intent.
“Eggs are quite good.” Father was speaking with his mouth full. “But what is it I can do for you two gentlemen? Quite a busy day ahead.”
“I’ll get straight to the point, Jefferson. May I call you Jefferson? Good. I’ll get right to it. You’ve no doubt heard a few choice things about the Captain and myself, judging from the company you’ve kept since coming to Deadwood.” His voice turned up in pitch at the end of his sentence. “And I understand that your first impression of me was less than complimentary. But I’ve come to warn you about those men who you’ve sidled up against.”
I tied my apron and gathered my broad-brimmed hat and sat down on the foot of my bed. As it happened, that was the best place from which to listen through the floorboards. I tried to stand, but as soon as my father’s voice came back, more heated than before, I couldn’t tear myself away, impropriety couldn’t unseat my curiosity.
“Truly?” Father laughed briefly. “I can’t imagine Mr. Star, or Mr. Bullock being untrustworthy, given their reputations. They’ve been nothing but kind since our arrival.”
There was a patient, rhythmic tapping of fingernails on the table top.
“Mr. James – ah, Jefferson – let me be clear. These people are not who they appear. Seth Bullock ran to Deadwood to get away from a broken marriage. Did you know that?” Rawls’s voice had gotten strained and more intense than it had been moments before. “He can’t keep his hands off of women who he isn’t married to. And if rumors are to be believed, this wasn’t the first time, nor the second, that his urges got the best of him.”
“I don’t see how that has any effect on my dealings with the sheriff, Mr. Rawls.” My father was trying his best to be patient.
“Goldtooth.”
Silence hung between them for a moment. “Yes, Goldtooth, I meant. But the man’s personal business has nothing to do with how he keeps order.”
“The other day, round-about noon, he was walking the camp’s streets with Clara. Arm in arm, they were.” There was something I couldn’t place in that man’s voice that turned my stomach. “Cavorting about like they were courting.”
“Oh, now Mr. Rawls, Goldtooth, I mean that’s just ridiculous. Sheriff Bullock was likely showing her around town while Mr. Star and I were reconnoitering my claim. Surely you don’t mean to insinuate something with your comments.”
“No, no, not at all.” A chair moved, and boots thumped on the wood floor. “I don’t insinuate, Jefferson, I’m just trying to help. But my words don’t end with Bullock. Mr. Star is a well-known cheat, both at cards and in business, and Davis Clark doesn’t have a shred of gold on his claim.”
With that, I finally put my finger on what so bothered me about the man. Aside from Rawls’s feigned manners and his gruffness, I didn’t like the freeness with which he aired his grievances – real or imagined – about other people and their business.
A second pair of feet hit the ground. “I’m not sure what the purpose of all this is, exactly, regardless, I’d like for you to leave.” My father rarely took a stand like that, but when he did, he never backed down.
“I’m not finished yet.”
“That’s fine. I’d like for you to leave anyway, if you please.”
Boots scraped across the ground to the door, and then I heard them turn. “Eli Masterson is a traitor,” Rawls said. “An Indian-lover and a traitor.”
My heart jumped into my throat. I strongly disliked his rumors dealing with the other men, but when he started to speak ill of Eli, the gentlest, kindest man I’d ever met; the one person who I wanted to see more than anyone in the world. I couldn’t help but smile a bit.
“Now, sir,” father said in a stern voice. “I’ll not have that sort of accusation being thrown around so casually. Not at all. I’ve asked you to leave and yet here you remain, talking my ear off about things which are none of your business. Why are you doing this, Mr. Rawls?”
“Goldtooth,” he said. “My friends call me –”
“You have no friends in this house, Mr. Rawls. Good day to you.”
My eyes were wide open. What I wouldn’t give to go out and watch the exchange like it was a cockfight. My shamelessness mortified me, but still I couldn’t rip my attention from them.
“You can dismiss what I’m saying all you like, Jefferson, but-”
“Please leave, Mr. Rawls. And please stop calling me Jefferson. I’ll ask you one more time to exit my home before I throw you out bodily.”
I had never heard father speak that way to someone – anyone – before.
“I’m going. But I’ll leave you with this. That man, Eli Masterson? He’s the reason the Sioux never leave this town alone. He’s trying to cavort with those damn Indians to get this place burned to the ground. He and that savage he cavorts with, they’re planning, you know.”
“That is quite enough!” My father had begun to shout. Never in my life had I heard him so excited. “Good day sir.”
The door slammed shut, rattling the windows. “You ready, Clara? I need some fresh air.”
I watched Mr. Rawls and his pug-nosed compatriot stand in front of the door for a moment longer, then turn and leave. “Yes, father, I’m ready,” I called down. “I think I could use some air, too.”
*
Our day of panning was a bit more exciting than the last one. Not an hour into the day of work, Father got a heavy pan full of dust, and one small nugget that sent him running about in the water like an excited toddler. After the strain of the morning, it was good to see him find some joy, but I couldn’t shake what he’d said about Eli.
Rawls’s accusations about Mr. Bullock and the rest of them were easy enough to dismiss because they either didn’t pertain to the present, or were just flat wrong. Clark Davis’s claim was working. He’d shown us the gold. But what he said about Eli struck me in a strange, unexplainable way.
I knew he had a relationship with Itan. He’d explained it to me, after all. There was no shame surrounding it, in fact, he was very proud of their sworn brotherhood. If that were true, then what else about what he said should be taken seriously? Were there kernels of reality in all his bombastic statements? I spent most of the day absently following my father around, and trying to reconcile what I knew to be true with what I needed to be false.
As the sun began its path to the horizon, a sound of hooves shook me from
my stupor.
Someone coming up the river toward Father called out, “Sure is a lot cooler in the mountains out west than it is here this time of year.”
“Eli? Is that you?” I made my way over, and in my eagerness, I dropped the basket I was carrying and stumbled as soon as I saw his face. Almost tipping the thing over and allowing our days’ worth of gold to rejoin the river, I let out a soft curse the instant before one of Eli’s powerful arms caught me. He helped me to right myself, not once taking those beautiful blue eyes off my face.
As father approached, Eli spoke softly to me. “It’s good to see you, Clara. The road back’s a long and lonely one for a man to travel alone.” His hand settled first on my shoulder, then moved slightly down my back.
I couldn’t speak; I could hardly keep myself from falling over in the river again. Eli’s gloved fingers curled softly against the small bit of skin above my collar. I was almost taken with a flight of fancy to turn and kiss him – thankfully I managed to maintain enough dignity to not shame myself quite so utterly. Fortunately, a moment later, Father approached and saved me from any further embarrassment.
“Mr. Masterson! So good to see you. How’d you find us?”
“Oh,” Eli said with sly smile, “I got into town and went directly to Mr. Star to ask after you. Like I was just telling Miss James here, the road back to Deadwood is empty, dull, and lifeless. I needed to see a couple of friends when I got back to civilization, such as it is.”
“Well you’re certainly always welcome to visit. By the way, your advice that I seek out Mr. Star proved very fortunate. It seems like I’ve got a working claim!” Father fished a nugget out of the basket I’d dropped and turned it in the sunlight.
“Put that down,” Eli said in a hushed tone. “Don’t go waving nuggets. These hills aren’t safe for success. Too much greed, too many –”
“Eli? Eli Masterson? Is that you?” Eustace Rawls drew up behind Eli and put his hand on his shoulder. “How long as it been since we came across one another?”
In my excitement, I’d somehow missed his approach.
Eli grimaced. “Six years, Eustace. Six happy years.” He brushed the hand off his shoulder. “Leave these folks alone, do you understand? No one’s going to put up with you or your goon harassing them. I’ve warned Seth to keep an eye –”
“Oh yes, the right Sheriff. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of time to keep me from being cordial with my friends here in between his endless visits to the various women he keeps. Anyway, no need to be curt with me, Eli. I was just coming by to,” he paused. “What’s that then?” his gaze went to my father’s hand, still holding the nugget.
“Nothing,” Father said, tucking it in his pocket. “None of your business at any rate. We were just going back to town, to dine with Mr. Masterson, if he’ll give us the pleasure.”
Eli nodded without taking his eyes off the slight man in the tattered coat before him. “Be obliged, ma’am, sir.” He reached for my hand, took it and kissed it. “There’s a right way and a wrong way to talk to people, Eustace. You’ve just exemplified for us the way to make sociability a most unpleasant experience.”
They exchanged a long, unfriendly glare.
“Of course,” Rawls said. “I’d hate to keep friends from enjoying each other’s company. Or lovebirds apart.” The man’s beady, black eyes settled upon me and I felt a chill as he searched my face. “Remember what I told you, Jefferson. Congratulations on your find. Hope it’s the first of many.”
With that, he turned and left. Father’s face was red and Eli looked as though he’d seen a ghost.
“He told us the foulest things,” I whispered. “About Mr. Bullock, Mr. Star, that nice fellow with the claim adjacent ours, and about you. Why?”
Eli shook his head. “He’s an angry man. An angry man I haven’t seen since the Comstock.” His eyes darkened for a moment. After closing his eyes for a moment, Eli opened them and his jovial smile was back. “But, that’s for another time. Right now I’m glad to be among friends. If you were serious about that offer of supper, I’d love to take you up on it, Mr. James. I’m famished.”
“Jefferson,” Father said. “Call me Jeff, or Jeff or Jeffrey. I answer to all of them. Friends should use first names, you know. And Clara,” he turned to me briefly before facing Eli again, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was out of line.”
I smiled and nodded to accept what he’d said, just as Eli put his hand back on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze.
“I like that, Jeff. Call me Eli.” His smile, along with those sparkling eyes, dazzled me when I looked in Eli’s direction. “It’s good to be back.”
Seven
September 20, 1878
Deadwood, Dakota Territory
The first day of our ice delivery was a happy one, though not for the reason I imagined.
I woke up earlier than Father for once, and got his coffee ready. He was packing his tools, and about to head out the door when he turned to me and stared for a moment.
“Clara,” he said. “I want you to be happy. More than anything in the world, I want for your happiness. If you want to leave this place and go right back to New York, all you have to do is say the word.”
Studying his face, I thought perhaps he was asking permission, more than expressing his care. Whatever that letter he’d gotten from Francis had a terrible effect on his mood. Something, I knew, had gone wrong and it was worrying him, but he wouldn’t speak of it in clearer terms.
“Our place is here, father, for now. You’ve got your claim and I have,” I paused to consider my words. No way was I going to admit that I didn’t want to go back to New York because I didn’t want to leave behind a man with whom I wasn’t even involved. Just the idea of never seeing Eli again put a lump in my throat.
“What is it, dear? Something seems to have grabbed ahold of your tongue and clamped down.” A wry smile spread across his face. “I think I have some idea.”
I blushed at his insinuation. “Father, it’s not like that.”
“It’s all right, Clara, it’s all right.” A broad smile covered father’s face. “I’m just having a joke at your expense. I remember being just like you, although on the other side of it. I’ve seen the way Eli looks at you, too. A man doesn’t get that distant, unable-to-think-correctly glaze over his eyes unless he is in a bad way.” Father said, no doubt thinking of how he spent two years courting my mother before finally working up the courage to ask for her hand.
He looked so vulnerable in just that moment that I took his hand and held it between both of mine. “Is something wrong with the bank? I know you’ve been upset since that telegraph from Francis, and I –”
“No,” he said with a snap. “No, everything’s fine. Or will be. If not for this claim proving out, then I’d be in one hell of a spot. But no, don’t worry about that. All that happened was one of the railroad companies we put our money in went broke trying to run a line from Colorado to the Pacific. Nothing to worry about.”
The words he said and the look on his face weren’t a match. He was pinching his lips, and had chewed so much on his mustache that one corner was worn ragged. “Okay,” I said as I rubbed one of his arms. “If you say so, I’ll not worry. But you do need to get to the claim, don’t you?”
“That I do,” he said with a smile. “You’re a good girl, Clara. You keep your old man honest.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead before gathering his tools and his big, wide-brimmed hat. “Speaking of Eli, from a moment ago, he’s quite the worker. I get the idea he’s just helping me out to alleviate boredom, as he says there’s no caravans running for a time. But without him, I’d be weeks behind instead of just days. Mr. Star thinks we’ll be able to hire a crew to begin mining the claim soon.”
“My brave, gold prospecting father,” I said with a smirk. “Work hard!”
“Every day, from morning to night. Be back well after the sun’s down, Clara.” He closed the door behind him, whistling as he we
nt.
*
Hours later, a rhythmic tapping on the front door took my attention away from my journal.
“Who is it?” I called as the block of ice, delivered directly after father left, settled into its place in the icebox and made a groaning sound.
Somehow, before any answer was made, I already knew. Eli.
“It’s Eli. Came by to see if you’d like to take a short ride and enjoy an outdoor luncheon –” The door swung open, interrupting him. Immediately, his eyes fell on me. Normally I’d be mortified at being seen in my dressing gown, but instead of looking me up and down like that lecherous Rawls and his goon, Eli looked me in the face. “Well ain’t there a fine sight. Morning, Miss Clara.”
He took my hand and kissed it gently.
“Fine day to you, Eli. I thought you were out with Father helping him at the claim.” A smile settled onto my lips that wasn’t going anywhere for a long, long while. Those deep blue eyes spoke to me somewhere deep down in my soul. The way his gaze smoldered, and jaws tightened when he clenched his teeth sent a thrill up and down me.
Eli smiled disarmingly as he touched my arm right below the shoulder, his fingers hot through my dressing gown. “I was, for a fact. We decided to take a break for the rest of the day. Mr. Star and your father took a ride to the next camp over for some sort of panning device that just came onto the market. I can’t say I’m enough of an expert to understand what they were talking about.”
With an easy grace, he pushed his hat back on his head and crinkled his eyes.
“What are you doing with that stare?” I asked him, almost unable to keep from giggling. “Hoping to pierce my heart with your eyes, Mr. Masterson?”
“You know me all too well, somehow, Miss James.” He drew so close that when he put his hand on the wall beside my head I could feel his breath against my cheek. “Do you have any biscuits?”
“Biscuits?” I breathed him in. Eli was inches away. I wanted him to kiss me so badly I almost just did it myself.