Billie stared after him, wondering about the sudden change.
“That boy bothering you?” asked Uncle Dale, following her gaze.
“Not at all.” She decided not to relate what Winn had told her. The sooner her uncle thought Lou was gone, the sooner they’d be on the train home.
Billie noted the confidence of Winn’s gait as he strode away. She approved the look of his walk. Strong. Determined. She watched him until he cut between buildings and disappeared.
Uncle Dale grunted. “No more talking to boys when I’m not around. Your mother wouldn’t approve.”
She was about to argue when Uncle gave her a look too similar to her mother’s that meant she was stepping too close to the line. She bit her lip.
“Any news?” Billie asked instead.
Uncle Dale frowned. “The men haven’t been forthcoming. Seems Lou could cause us some trouble, yet. Do you know what he looks like? I know dwarfism runs in your family.”
“I don’t know. We’ve never met and no one has said anything. Does it matter?” Billie’s words came out clipped. She was sensitive when talking about dwarfs because of Dad’s stories about Snow White. The way he told it, you’d think the Bergmann family was descended from the dwarfs who sheltered the young girl. He thought the tales were funny to tell, but they made her a joke to her friends.
After he told one of the stories at her eighth birthday party, her friends started calling her Snow White to mock her. Only Holly, Jane, and Suzanne didn’t. That was the start of their close-knit group.
“It might explain the reactions I’ve been getting,” Uncle said. “When I ask about him, they respond with smiles. I don’t understand.”
“Me, too,” Billie said with relief. So, it wasn’t just her. “The women in this town couldn’t tell me anything about Cousin Lou, either. I think he’s long gone.” She took a step toward the train depot, glancing up at the gathering thunderheads filling the sky. “Shall we inquire about the schedule to Boston?”
“Not yet.”
Billie stopped.
“The men weren’t forthcoming, but a woman at the Poisoned Apple Saloon had some interesting things to say.”
“Such as?”
“All you need to know is that we’re staying a few more days to see what turns up.”
“If we’re going to stay, please, let’s wire in my money so we can stay at the hotel.”
“Last night wasn’t so bad. We’ll pick up some groceries and wait at Lou’s place. It’s the only way to ensure we don’t miss him.”
It was hard to argue against that logic, but she didn’t like it. One thing she did like, though… She glanced down the alley where Winn Harris had disappeared. Cousin Lou wasn’t the only curiosity in this town.
Chapter 6
Billie stood at the window drying her long hair while water fell in sheets off the roof. The sky had split open seconds before they arrived back at the shack, dousing both of them from head to toe. Billie had never witnessed such a sudden and strong downpour of water. Rain pounded the roof while thunder echoed down the valley with a boom like dynamite.
“It’s not going to wash us away, is it?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. These storms are short-lived. Besides, the stove looks good.” Uncle Dale wiped black soot off his hands. “We can cook in here from now on.”
At least now they’d be able to have some decent food. Not hotel quality, mind you, but Billie knew how to cook a few things: potatoes, eggs, and stew, which was something other than beans. Uncle Dale claimed the campfire cooking, but she would insist the kitchen—such as it was—was hers. She couldn’t be a worse cook.
“I suppose I can handle a day or two more.” Billie hung the borrowed towel on a nail in the wall. She’d found a trunk under the bed filled with a variety of homey items and had already used them to spruce the place up.
Some of the things she found in the trunk looked like family heirlooms, such as the colorful rag rug she’d placed before the rocking chair, which itself was a beautifully carved item. The set of matching curtains also brought some needed cheer to the place.
These didn’t seem like items a bachelor would own, though. Maybe cousin Lou was married. Perhaps his wife died tragically, and that’s what made Lou crusty and bitter and feared by the townspeople. In a fit of despair, he packed everything away that reminded him of her and set off on a journey of grief.
And what did Winn mean by telling her to go home before it was too late? Did he mean before her cousin returned? Was he really that bad a character? While she imagined Cousin Lou’s sad life, the rain stopped.
“Ah, perfect time to collect ore samples,” Uncle Dale said, gathering his supplies. “Think Lou would mind if I used his pickax?”
“Probably. I’ll get started on our supper,” Billie said as she rifled through the sacks they had carried up. As soon as Uncle Dale left to collect samples for who-knew-why, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose. That feeling of being watched returned.
A quick survey confirmed no one else was there, so Billie shrugged it off as her unease at being all alone in a strange place. She sang her German lullaby as she peeled potatoes but froze when a voice joined hers.
The singing stopped when she stopped. She gripped the paring knife, her heart pounding.
“Hello?”
Billie did a sweep of the outside. Nothing but cactus and scrub. Now I’m hearing things.
“It’s probably an echo,” she said loudly. There was no echo back.
She stood by the locked door at the back of the shack and put her ear up against it. Silence.
This isn’t a ghost town; it’s a boomtown. Must be the wind.
Billie returned to preparing the vegetables, with her ears pricked for any unusual sound. City life was so different than this.
She was tasting the finished stew when a thump outside made her jump, and she looked up. Arms akimbo in the doorway stood a dwarf dressed in a red plaid shirt and dungarees. Several packs splayed out on the ground outside behind the woman.
“Care to explain why you’ve broken into my home, Goldilocks?” The woman’s words carried a slight German accent.
So many thoughts flooded Billie’s mind at once. She tried not to stare but couldn’t help it. Not because she was meeting a dwarf for the first time, but more importantly, the dwarf was not a man.
The personage standing in the doorway claiming ownership to the shack had long black hair, highlighted with gray strands, plaited in two braids poking out of her prospector’s hat. Her sharp eyes glared out from her sun-weathered face.
“Who are you?” Billie asked defensively. She glanced down at her own locks which were not blonde.
“I’m the owner of this here abode.” The angry woman walked in and sniffed at the pot.
Her home? Billie stole a look around, her stomach sinking. They’d broken into someone else’s home. She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I thought this was my cousin Lou’s place.”
The dwarf rolled her eyes. “You’re standing on my mama’s rug.”
Billie looked down at her feet and noticed the dirt on the edges of her boots flaking off onto the rug. The rain had started when they were a hundred feet from the shack and quickly turned the mountain into a quagmire.
She took two steps until she was off the rug. “Sorry, ma’am,” she said as she made for the door. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” Where was Uncle Dale? They’d set up shop in some stranger’s house.
The woman blocked Billie’s exit. “Hold up there, girlie. I’m Lou. Born Louisa, but no one’s called me that since my mama passed.”
Both their gazes traveled back to the rug where the dirt from Billie’s boots rested.
Billie cleared her throat. She’d often thrown people off with her use of a male name, too. She kind of liked it and thought Lou was the same way. If they had that in common, maybe Billie could find more common ground.
“I’m Wilhelmina Bergmann. There was no one here, and my uncle thou
ght you wouldn’t mind since we’re family, and we’d traveled so far and my dad, Chester, died and left you a watch.” As the words tumbled out of Billie, her voice began to rise and crack with emotion. She was so embarrassed to be caught like this. It wasn’t proper at all to be staying in someone’s house without an invitation. Where was Uncle Dale? She looked out the window and saw movement behind a creosote bush. She narrowed her eyes. Coward.
Lou pulled away from the doorway. “A watch, you say?”
“My uncle has it. He should be back soon.” Billie didn’t know why she was covering for him. She should call him out of his hiding place and expose him for the sneak he was. “We could have mailed the watch, but he wanted to make sure you got it. Seemed like a family heirloom.”
“I’ll be happy to receive it, then. My condolences on your dad passing. We never met, but I knew he was running Bergmann Consolidated for the family.”
“Thank you.” Billie searched for some way to make amends for barging in on her cousin like they did. “So, Cousin Lou. You can call me Billie, by the way,” she boldly indicated Lou should sit at her own table. “How long have you lived here?”
Lou looked narrowly at Billie, still sizing her up. “I see you inherited the family forehead.”
Startled, Billie rubbed her forehead wondering what Lou meant.
“High forehead. All the proud ones have it.”
This is not going well. Billie sat in the rocking chair, hoping it wasn’t another family heirloom. Applying all her social graces, she again indicated Lou should sit opposite her. Mrs. Foster from her finishing school would be proud to see her quick recovery.
Lou pulled the chair away from the table and sat heavily. “Been traveling a spell; it feels good to sit. I was looking forward to my quiet cabin.” She shot Billie a pointed glare.
“May I offer you some tea?”
“My own tea? With boiled water from my own water barrel, using my kettle and my own cookstove and wood, too?” Lou frowned wryly. “How hospitable of you.”
Billie ignored the dry tone and rose to make herself useful in the kitchen. Cousin Lou did look tired and maybe some tea would be just the thing. With satisfaction, Billie smiled when Lou took off her boots and sat back with her eyes closed. Everyone could use a little pampering. Even crusty old cousins suddenly put-upon.
Had the situation been reversed, Billie would have been overjoyed to come home to find someone had done all the hard work of setting up the home. She patted her hair, shuddering at the thought of all the cobwebs they’d cleared out. Lou should be thanking her for making the place a home instead of criticizing.
As long as there was tea, there was civility.
Billie chatted while she worked, rambling on about their trek across the desert and how happy she was to get to Lou’s shack. She laid it on thick. “It was good you came when you did. I’m not sure how much longer we were going to stay here waiting for you.”
She poured the tea and then turned around with a cup in each hand. “Here we go.”
Cousin Lou’s head rested against the back of the chair, mouth open. She let out a gentle snore.
Billie frowned, and set the cups on the table. After all her hard work, the least her cousin could do was stay awake. The tea would get cold.
“Psst.”
Billie glanced up. Uncle Dale had cracked open the door and was waving her outside, holding a finger to his lips.
Now he shows up.
She followed him, arms crossed. “What are you doing hiding out here? Did you know that’s Cousin Lou? She’s a woman!”
“How’s her mood?” he asked, whispering.
“Irritated.”
“They told me in town that Lou didn’t much like visitors.”
Billie gaped at him. “I gathered that. She called me Goldilocks. Basically, accused me of breaking in and taking over her house.”
“Well, you did take over. I’m surprised she recognized the place the way you’ve redecorated.”
Honestly.
“Besides, I thought he, I mean, she would be more amiable to find a young lady in the cabin, more so than a man looking like a lawyer.”
Billie wanted to tell her uncle how he’d stopped looking like a lawyer back in Tombstone and was well on his way to looking like a rough-and-tumble miner himself. “Why don’t you come in and meet her?” She tried to grab his arm, but he pulled away.
“Did you tell her about the watch?” He scratched his chin while trying to get a glimpse through the open door.
“Yes.”
“And? Her reaction?”
Billie paused. She’d only mentioned the watch in her big long rambling explanation. Did Lou react? “I think she was interested. We should give it to her and get back to town today before it gets dark.” Finally. They could be on a train bound for Boston first thing in the morning.
“Good. Good. I was hoping.”
“What makes the watch special?”
“No idea. But I’m hoping to use it to make a trade.” He turned Billie around. “Now, go back in there and warm her up some more. I’ll be in shortly.”
Billie stood her ground. “Warm her up? Did you hear her? Just come in with me.”
“She’s a woman who’s lived alone her entire adult life. I don’t think she’d take kindly to waking up from a nap to find a man in her home. Might scare her off. No, you go back in and wave through the window when it’s time for me to make an entrance. I’ll be waiting out here. Just don’t take too long. I’m getting a leg cramp.”
“Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” Billie said, hoping he noted the sarcasm in her voice. Meanwhile, she’d use the time alone with Lou to her own advantage.
She’d find out what Uncle was after.
Chapter 7
Cousin Lou was still out cold when Billie returned from talking with her uncle. If she felt embarrassed when Lou first walked in, she felt downright awkward now. The woman’s mouth was open, and she was snoring as loudly as daddy used to.
There was no cleaning left to do.
The tea was getting cold.
She could sit and watch Lou sleep, but then when Lou woke up she’d find Billie staring at her. Seems like that wouldn’t endear her to Lou.
She glanced at the mining journals on the shelf. Would it hurt her cousin to have The Deliniator, or a Godey’s lying around? Given Lou’s plaid shirt and dungarees, Billie surmised her cousin only shopped at the General Store where Billie’d gotten her brown boots. Did the woman even own a proper hat?
In desperation, Billie pulled out a mining book and turned to a random page.
The Law of Apex states that the vein closest to the surface, or the apex of the vein, takes precedent over claim boundaries. Therefore, if a vein traverses from one claim to another, the Law of Apex allows crossover mining.
Seriously? These were the kinds of books her father read all the time. If she read much more, she’d fall asleep, too. Billie laughed to herself. Daddy would have been thrilled if she’d taken an interest in the family business. With no sons to pass the company on to, and a daughter with no interest in mining or business, he’d been lax in grooming anyone to take his place. Who knew he’d die so young?
Billie straightened. Who was going to take over the business? She’d not given it any thought since Uncle Dale had stepped in and promised to make everything all right. And she’d let him. That was all before she’d realized how sneaky he was. Her gut told her he was not the one to let rise to the top. He’d secret everything away, giving Billie just enough to keep her from asking questions. That’s what he’d done so far on this trip. She couldn’t let him do that with the rest of her life.
Billie realized the room had gone quiet. She looked up from her reading to see Lou observing her.
“What did you say your name was, Goldilocks?” Lou looked tired. Resigned. Even though she’d just woken from a nap. Lou stood and closed the curtains over the oval window above the bed.
“Wilhelmina, but you can c
all me Billie.”
Lou turned and nodded. “I like that. Good family name. A German name that means protector.” She arched one eyebrow. “Sound like you?”
Billie shrugged. Her daddy always said she was strong-willed. But a protector? No.
“How did you find me?” Lou asked.
“My uncle, my mom’s brother, tracked you down. He’s taking care of things for the estate.”
“He’s the executor?”
Billie shook her head. “No, he’s supposed to be escorting me back to Boston, where we’re going to live. My mother’s side of the family is all out that way.” Billie smiled slightly. “You’re the only one left here on my dad’s side. The rest are in Germany.”
“And where is this uncle of yours?”
Billie waved her hand nonchalantly. “He’ll be back soon. Do you know anything about the watch my dad left you? Does it have sentimental value?”
“I don’t know about any watch. Have you seen it, or is it your uncle’s excuse to find me?”
What an odd question. “Yes, I’ve seen it.”
Billie stood, beginning to feel uncomfortable. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone with her cousin after all. She wandered to the window. Uncle was nowhere to be seen outside, but she knew enough to know he was there. Waiting. She gave a little wave, trying to be sly, but seeing Lou watch her out of the corner of her eye, Billie gave up any pretense. She gave a big wave. “There’s my uncle now.” She wondered if Lou was buying it. Billie wasn’t used to acting so sneaky.
She withered under Cousin Lou’s gaze and was relieved when Uncle stepped into the shack.
“Cousin Lou, at last.” He came in with a big smile and held out his hand.
Lou didn’t shake it. “I don’t believe we are cousins.”
“Right. Yes.”
“I hear you have a watch for me?”
Uncle flinched but changed the subject. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
Lou raised one eyebrow. “You’ve been enjoying it, have you?”
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