Julia's house was closest so she and Betty guided Hunter there. They settled Hunter on the settee, and Julia ran to grab a blanket off her bed. Hunter kept the coat wrapped around his shoulders, and though it was a comfortable temperature in the house, he shivered.
"Betty could you stoke the fire, please?"
Betty nodded and got a little blaze going in the pot-bellied parlor stove. Julia encouraged Hunter to ease back on the couch. She put a towel down for his feet, which were icy to the touch, and wrapped the ends of the towel around them.
When the fire was going, Julia got the kettle from the kitchen and brought it out to the parlor stove. She set it down on top and went to retrieve cups and the teapot from the kitchen.
Betty and Julia fussed over Hunter and the tea, the activity bringing comfort. When they finally settled, each into a chair, Hunter spoke for the first time.
"Do you think anyone else saw?" He looked at Julia.
"I don't know," she replied honestly, "It's possible."
Betty looked back and forth from Hunter to Julia. "Saw what?" she asked.
Hunter was quiet, staring into the middle distance without seeing.
Julia finally spoke up. "Do you want to tell her, Mr. Hunter?"
The man ran his tongue around his lips, still not looking at either of the women. Julia and Betty waited, both ignoring their tea.
Finally Hunter looked over at Julia. "How long have you known?"
"I had an inkling yesterday." She looked at Betty. "After our impromptu visit to Dr. Parker's."
Betty furrowed her brow, more confused than ever.
Hunter nodded, thinking. Then he looked over at Betty Mitchell and stood up. The blanket around his shoulders fell away. He took hold of Julia's coat, where it lay across his shoulders and pulled that off as well.
Betty turned her face away from the figure that now was housed in just a thin nightshirt.
Hunter's voice changed slightly, "Look, Mrs. Mitchell." Hunter pulled the nightshirt away from his sides so that it clung to his body across the front.
"Mr. Hunter," Betty said, looking away from him and wild-eyed at Julia, "please cover yourself."
Hunter sighed and continued holding his night shirt tight against his chest. "Please."
Betty's head snapped up at the change in tenor of Hunter's voice. She looked over finally and saw what Hunter was showing her. Where a man's smooth chest should be, the points of two small breasts could clearly be seen through the thin cotton night shirt.
"You might as well call me Evelyn," she said.
***
"Have some tea." Julia motioned for Hunter/Evelyn to sit down. "And perhaps you'd like to unburden yourself to us."
Evelyn left the coat where it lay on the couch but pulled the blanket around herself and sat down. She took a sip of tea and then left the cup in its saucer while she told her story.
"I never felt at home in my body. It's really that simple. I never felt like 'me'. For the longest time I assumed everyone felt that way. But also," she stopped, looking down at her hands, "I knew something was wrong."
She had grown up the daughter of a watchmaker in what was then called Granville, now Vancouver. She had three brothers and a sister. It was the sister she finally confided in during a moment of vulnerability before her sister's wedding.
"It was the night before the wedding and we were excited and nervous, of course. It was to be our last night sleeping in our room at home. After the wedding she and her husband were moving to Victoria. I shared how I felt with her. I asked her if she felt at home in her body. She said yes and looked at me like I was crazy."
Julia could see the pain in Evelyn’s face.
"I pressed on. I had to know how she felt. I had to find out before she was gone what her experience was like. She was horrified at my questions. She kept asking me to stop. But I couldn't once I'd started. Seventeen years of wondering what was wrong with me and waiting to feel...." She thought for a moment. "At peace."
But her sister hadn't been able to grasp what Evelyn was telling her. They argued and then Jane ended up sleeping in the living room for the rest of the night, uncomfortable with the conversation.
"She didn't look at me all the next day," Evelyn said. "And she left on her honeymoon without saying goodbye."
A few tears leaked out of Evelyn's eyes. Julia went to her bedroom and found a clean handkerchief and brought it back to the living room. She handed it to her guest. Evelyn took a huge breath and then let it out.
"So I left. I had some money saved up from working in my father's shop - he's a watchmaker, too. I bought a suit in secret. I told the shopkeeper it was for my husband." A rueful laugh. "And I made my way up here. Dressed as a man."
"But how... I don't understand. How did no one know?" Betty was leaning forward in her chair, fascinated and also horrified, though Julia could see she was trying to hide that part of her feelings.
Evelyn gave Betty a small, pursed smile. "Did you know?"
"I can't... I don't..." Betty sat up a little straighter, her hands clasped in her lap. She looked away for a moment, thinking and then looked back at Evelyn. "No. I didn't. How is that possible? It's so obvious now. Your smooth skin. Your small frame..." she trailed off.
"I've thought about this quite a bit, of course," Evelyn explained. "And I think the one conclusion I've reached is that people very often accept what we present to them. If you say you're a man, then people don't think about it too much."
Julia had been listening quietly through all this and reflected that this was certainly true for her. She had even been physically close to Evelyn when she and Merrick had helped him/her to Dr. Parker's office after the beating, and still she hadn't realized she was touching a woman. Her brain had been programmed to experience Evelyn as a man.
"Although," Evelyn continued, "sometimes people do catch on. I had a few very scary encounters in Vancouver before I moved up here." She looked over at Julia. "That's why I carry that little pistol with me. I've never fired it before that night at the dance. But it did come in handy a couple of times in the city. Waving it around would encourage those who were bothering me to leave me alone."
Betty's brow furrowed. "Are you more at peace living as a man?"
Evelyn nodded but it was a tiny gesture. "Yes. In many ways. It's odd because when I was living as a woman, a girl, I always felt like I was hiding something. Like I had a secret. Now that I'm..." she made a little motion with her hands, searching for a word, "presenting myself as a man, that feeling of secrecy has gone away. But it's been replaced by another kind of secrecy. Now I really do have something to hide. If people found out..." She let the end of the sentence linger.
Julia finally spoke. "I think someone has."
Evelyn nodded again. "I agree. Someone knows. That's why the beating. And the fire."
While they had been talking, the reason for their gathering faded into the background. At the mention of the fire, all three women were gripped once again by anxiety about what might be going on outside.
More as a way to keep their mind off this than a means to pry, Julia said, "Tell us about Lily Cecil."
"Ah yes. Lily. Well. She knows for sure." Evelyn settled back into the settee a bit, relaxing now that she had nothing to hide. "We went to school together."
"Small world," Julia said.
"Indeed. I specifically moved to Horse because it's far from anywhere and I thought I could live here in anonymity, hopefully for many years. But wouldn't you know it? I've only been here nine months and who do I bump into but a school chum, Lily Crewes. That's her maiden name."
"Did she recognize you right away?" Betty sipped her tea absently.
"On some level I think she did. She came into the shop one day looking for a second-hand watch for her husband's birthday. I knew instantly who she was, of course, but I kept quiet and hoped she wouldn't place me." Evelyn looked through the louvered door of the stove, watching the flames, remembering. "I could see it was confusing for
her. She was being presented with a man's voice and body and attitude, but behind that I'm assuming she could see and remember me."
Betty anticipated Julia's question. "Did she say anything?"
"Not then. But she was distracted and puzzled, I could tell. She left the shop and I was left wondering what to do. I began considering moving to a larger center. Maybe Kelowna or maybe farther east."
"But she confronted you later. At your home after you'd been beaten." Julia filled in the blank.
"Yes." Evelyn looked at her. "You heard us, did you?"
"I didn't hear anything, but I saw the little confrontation you two were having. I thought maybe it was a lovers' spat. I wondered later if Alan Cecil had noticed anything between you and his wife."
"Yes, poor Alan." Evelyn smiled ironically. "I think he's jealous. But I begged Lily not to tell him. And poor Lily. She's been caught in the middle. I hope to disappear soon and put her out of her misery. That is, if I can." Evelyn glanced at Julia's front windows where the sky was just beginning to lighten. "My clothes have probably all burned up."
Julia wouldn't let her change the subject. "Do you think it was Alan Cecil who beat you up?"
Evelyn turned back to her host. "I honestly don't know. I was telling you and Constable Merrick the truth when I said I don't remember anything from that day. It's all a blank, going back to the previous evening. The last thing I remember is tidying up after supper. That's it."
"I went out the O'Brien ranch the other day to talk to him." At this Betty raised her eyebrows, but Julia pressed on. "He's not the smartest person alive, and I wonder if he just let his fists do the talking for him."
"It's possible." Evelyn pulled the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders.
"You seem like you're not convinced," Julia said.
Evelyn looked steadily at Julia. "I'm sure it's possible. It's just that Alan strikes me as a coward. A follower, not a leader. Someone who would abuse a woman, for sure. I don't think he treats Lily very well. But I'm not sure he has the backbone to attack another man."
This assessment agreed with what Julia observed in Cecil at the ranch.
Betty spoke for the first time in several minutes. "You must have fresh insights into the workings of the male mind."
Evelyn surprised them and shook her head. "Not fresh insights, no. I've always felt I had a male mind. I just had to pretend it was female."
Julia and Betty both processed this.
A knock at the door made all the women jump.
"Julia?" It was Jack Merrick's voice. "Are you there? Is Mr. Hunter with you?"
Julia stood up. "Quickly, Evelyn. Go to my bedroom."
Evelyn did as she was bid. Julia waited until she was out of sight and then opened the front door.
Merrick stood there, slightly out of breath, his face liberally covered in soot. He was wearing an undershirt that was also filthy, and work pants, but no shirt or jacket.
"Shhh," Julia said to him, "Mr. Hunter is trying to rest."
Merrick paused for a beat. "In your bedroom?" he finally said.
"Yes," Julia stood up a little straighter and opened the door wider giving Merrick a full view of the living room, "Betty Mitchell is here chaperoning if you're worried."
"I wasn't... I, um..." He was flustered. And bothered. But he righted himself quickly. "The house is gone."
"Oh no."
"Yes. But we kept the fire off the Carson's house and it's almost out. Walt and the others are staying there, keeping an eye on it, making sure it doesn't flare up again."
"Good." Julia nodded. She felt awkward. She hadn't spoken to Merrick since their argument at the livery.
Merrick looked to Betty and then back to Julia. "Will Hunter be staying with you until he finds new housing?"
Julia thought that if he wanted the question to sound innocuous he failed. She heard Betty's voice from behind her.
"He'll be staying with Christopher and me, Constable. I'll be taking him home to feed him as soon as he wakes."
"Right." Merrick took a step back from the door. "I'll go back and see how the men are doing."
He turned and strode down the front walk. Julia secretly appreciated the view of his back clad in just his damp undershirt. She closed the door and turned, finding Evelyn Hunter in the doorway to her bedroom.
"Well, the cat's out of the bag now," her guest said, "I might as well slink out of town on the first stagecoach."
"Nonsense," Betty stood up and put her hands on her hips. "What we do next is find you one of Christopher's suits to wear."
Twenty-eight
Merrick found Walt with Dr. Parker out in front of the livery. The doctor was sitting on one of the old wooden chairs. He had one of the livery dogs clamped between his knees. The dog was facing in, toward the doctor. Walt was standing beside the chair and had the animal's head gently but firmly clasped between his large hands. Dr. Parker had his face bent close to the dog, examining one of its eyes.
Walt turned his head as Merrick walked toward them and nodded at his friend.
"I didn't know you saw patients with four legs as well, Doctor."
Parker grunted, focused on his task.
Walt replied for him. "I asked him to look at this fellow. He's had something wrong with one of his eyes for a few days and it's getting worse."
Merrick glanced around at the other two dogs who were lying in the yard, unaffected by the goings-on of the medical procedure. "Who do these mongrels belong to, anyway?"
"No idea," Walt said. "They just show up each morning and disappear every day at dusk."
With Walt slightly distracted, the dog tried to pull its head out of his hands. Walt turned back to the patient and spoke some Gaelic words to it in a deep calm voice. The dog stopped fidgeting.
Parker finally spoke. "Constable, hand me the small tweezers from my medical bag, will you?"
Merrick found the bag behind Parker's chair and dug around in it, coming up with a long, curved instrument with pincer ends and round handles for wielding it. "This?" he said, holding it up.
"No. There should be some brass tweezers in there. Smaller than that."
Merrick searched again, digging past a stethoscope, a thermometer, several sizes of scissors and something that looked like a spoon with a square head until he found what he thought Parker wanted. When he pulled them out of the bag and held them up Parker nodded.
"Is there a magnifying glass in there too?"
Merrick reached into the bag once more and then handed the doctor the glass.
For a few more moments the operation was quiet. Walt continued to talk to the dog under his breath. Merrick couldn't understand the words, and he supposed the dog couldn't either. But whatever Walt was saying was calming the animal.
The dog made a small whining noise and then Parker sat back in his chair, the tweezers held aloft in front of him. "Voilà," he said.
Walt released the dog's head, and the doctor unclamped his knees. The animal backed away and shook himself all over. He rubbed his face a few times with his paw and then trotted away and began pushing his head into one of his compatriot’s shoulders.
"What was it?" Walt asked.
Parker turned the tweezers in his hand, examining the offending object closely. "Part of a pine needle, I think. It was stuck in his eyelid." He flicked the needle away and stood up.
Walt shook his hand. "Thank you," he said.
"No problem, Sheehan. My pleasure."
When the doctor left, Merrick and Walt went inside and began the daily chore of mucking out the stalls. Walt placed the wheelbarrow in the center aisle of the livery and both men grabbed a pitchfork from the tack room. Merrick started with Earl's stall and Walt let himself into the stall where his horse, Nelson, normally stood. Both animals were outside, which made the job much easier.
They worked silently for several minutes. Both men were weary from being up most of the night at the fire. The smell of soot lingered in their nostrils. Eventually Walt said,
"You seemed a bit short with Julia the other day."
Merrick grunted in reply and kept sifting through the straw for lumps of manure.
Walt tried again. "How is it that one woman can cause you so much aggravation? She must be magic or something."
The silence from Earl's stall stretched out.
"Maybe," Walt continued, trying to get a reaction, "you could hire her as your assistant. She could solve the crimes and you could do the paperwork."
"Why are you so chatty all of a sudden?" Merrick's tone was grave.
"Just wonderin'. She's like a fly at a picnic, that one. She won't go away no matter how much you swat at her."
Merrick looked up through the bars that divided the top half of the stalls. "Exactly! I keep telling her it is not her place to be running around town, solving crimes. She's going to get herself hurt. Or worse. I was angry because she went to the O'Brien ranch the other day. By herself, no less." Merrick bent to his task again, his face furrowed with concern and anger.
"Did she come back in one piece?"
"What?" Merrick hadn't heard Walt over the grumbling in his own head.
"I say, did she come back in one piece? Was she safe? Did she get hurt while she was out there?"
Merrick lifted a pile of poop onto his pitchfork and walked it out of the stall to the wheelbarrow. "No. She didn't get hurt. But that's not the point. She could have. The men at that ranch are dangerous. I wouldn't let any woman go out there alone."
"I suppose she didn't need your permission." Merrick grunted again at this but Walt continued. "You know, she reminds me of someone."
"Really? Who?"
"There's a man in town who's fiercely independent. Won't let his friends help him even when he's grieving and lost for what to do next. He's proud and stubborn as hell. Smart about his job but not too bright when it comes to dealing with people sometimes." Walt finished in Nelson's stall and moved across the aisle to a box reserved for guest horses.
"Very funny," Merrick said.
"I'm not being funny," Walt said. "I'm serious. You two are like peas in a pod. I think that's why she drives you mad. You see yourself in her. She's lost, like you were after Charlotte died, and she's grabbing onto a task that gives her a sense of purpose and probably distracts her from whatever's bothering her."
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