Billie stumbled into the darkness with her carpetbag and reticule. “Can’t I even wait until sunrise?”
Lou pointed to the warm blush spreading over the mountaintop. “You’ll have full sun by the time you hit town. Best to walk while it’s still cool, anyway.”
Billie yawned and gave an exaggerated stretch, hoping to play on Lou’s sympathies. Didn’t work. She stumbled forward, glancing back in case Lou wanted to give her a final reprieve.
“It’s that way, darlin’.” Lou pointed to the left of where Billie was going.
Billie pretended that was the way she meant to go in the first place and waved, hoping she wouldn’t come to a fork in the trail anytime soon. She should have been paying more attention when they’d hiked the mountain, but she’d been too annoyed at her uncle, never imagining they’d be separated.
Well, she’d pay attention now.
The sun was rising, and although still blocked by the mountains, it cast a rosy glow on the sparse hillside. After hiking awhile, Billie paused to take in the beauty of the moment. A noise behind her made her jump, and she looked back, hoping it wasn’t a wild animal.
The dark form of a man stopped short and dodged behind a bush.
Her heart rate sped up. How long had he been following her, and what were his intentions? If she needed to scream, would Cousin Lou be able to hear her?
Billie picked up her pace, becoming reckless as she descended the mountain. Her boots skidded on the rocks, and several times she slipped. When she dared glance back again, the figure was still following her.
In desperation she looked for a weapon with which to defend herself. The hillsides were practically bare of any sticks or branches she could use to keep her pursuer at bay, but there were plenty of rocks. Didn’t anything grow here? It was like she’d been dropped into the desert the Israelites wandered in for forty years.
Uncle Dale had told her the hills had been mined not only for the copper and gold but for the wood to make charcoal to heat the furnaces needed for smelting. It had left the mountains bare and unprotected. Floods were a worry this time of year with nothing to stop the mud from sliding down into town.
Suddenly, her legs went out from under her and she fell hard. She skidded several feet down the mountain on her backside, narrowly missing a cactus. Hands stinging and heart racing, she grabbed at a rock while she was down. At least now she was armed.
“You all right there?” the stranger called.
Billie glanced behind. He hurried after her, surfing the rocks like she’d seen a man do on the waves in the Pacific Ocean.
“I’m fine.” She tried to scramble to her feet, hiding the rock behind her, ready to swing it hard if he wasn’t friendly.
As he got closer, his face came into view and Billie’s stomach leaped.
“Oh. It’s you.” Winn.
She froze, undecided whether to drop the rock or keep it ready. She barely knew the first thing about the boy from town.
“And you,” he said, tipping his hat. He crossed his arms and looked down at her. “Need help, Miss Bergmann?”
“No.” She struggled to get up, the little pebbles making it difficult.
“It’d be easier if you dropped that rock.”
She glared at him. There he stood, his handsome face tilted to the sky and his rugged body braced against the tilt of the mountain.
“No gold in it, so no point in keeping it,” he said.
“I know there’s not gold in it.” The daughter of a geologist, of course she knew.
He held out his hand and after a moment’s reflection, she took it. But instead of pulling herself up, she yanked him off balance.
The look of surprise on his face was worth her boldness. She laughed, slapping her knee as he crashed down beside her.
He scowled. “What was that for?”
“Weren’t you standing there thinking I was some city girl out of her league here in the mountains? Thought I’d knock out some of that smugness. Show you any of us can fall.”
Winn got back on his feet, shaking his head. “Dames.” He began to walk off.
Billie immediately regretted not taking his proffered hand the way it was meant. She pushed herself up. “Wait.”
He knew the way to town, and at least he could keep her from taking the wrong path or getting attacked by wild animals.
He stopped walking.
Hmm. Maybe he was a little bit of a gentleman.
They descended in silence. Billie stole a glance, and he continued glaring straight ahead. Clearly, he didn’t want her tagging along. He was probably trying to stay out of sight back there, so he didn’t have to talk to her.
Traveling with her uncle had made her suspicious of everyone. She found herself constantly looking for ulterior motives.
“You must live out this way,” she said, trying to draw him out.
“You could say that.”
“Long walk in every day.” She thought Lou’s shack had to be the house farthest away from town, but Winn’s must be even beyond that. She pictured another plain shack like Lou’s but filled with a family. What different worlds she and Winn lived in.
The closer they got to town, the more houses dotted the landscape. Doors began opening, and dark-haired children began pouring out calling out to one another in Spanish. Farther down, they came across a group of children playing on a flat area in the ground. They’d traced lines in the dirt and had pebbles placed in the squares.
Winn exhaled, balling his fists. “What are you doing, mijo? You know your mama hates Faro.” Winn kicked the dirt to wipe clean their playing area. “And you, Billy-boy quit pretending about things you know nothing about.”
“Hey!” a sandy-haired boy complained. “I was winning.”
“You all go home or I’ll tell your mothers what I caught you doing.”
The kids scrambled up and scattered, several shouting angry words in Spanish as they ran away. He laughed.
“At least they listen to you,” Billie said.
“Naw, they’re just scared of what their mamas will do to them.”
“See that boy there?” He pointed at the sandy-haired boy running down the hill in front of them. “He shares your name, Billy. He’s always getting the others into trouble. I catch him doing stuff all the time.”
She stole a glance at Winn. His jaw was set, determined, but his eyes were kind. He really cared about these kids. It bothered him that they were playing at gambling.
“You speak Spanish?”
“A little. You pick it up.”
“Why don’t you live here?” she asked, indicating the community. “It’s closer to town.”
“Sure is.”
Okay. She wanted to get him talking, but he wasn’t giving out much information. “Do you plan to work in the mine?”
“No. I pick up odd jobs when I’m not in school. Besides, someone like me could only work up to being a mucker, and I don’t want to do that for the rest of my life anyway.”
“Then be a miner.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got to come from British roots to be a miner. My pop came here from Finland. He’ll never be a miner.”
“Oh. I see.” But she didn’t. Who knew the mining rules were so complex?
“Listen, it’s not like we can’t do the work, it’s that the bosses won’t hire us for it.”
“I’ll ask my dad to—” Billie stopped. Her dad wasn’t running any mining operations anymore. “You don’t strike me as a fellow who wants to go to school, either,” she said, then immediately regretted it when his countenance turned sour.
“I don’t know how a fellow is supposed to look. Wear a sweater and glasses?”
Billie couldn’t help herself. With his athletic build, tanned skin, and well-worn clothes, he had a weathered appearance, like a boy who never stepped indoors if he could help it. Picturing Winn dressed all prim and proper like the fellows in Boston didn’t work. She burst out laughing until he cracked a smile with her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was putting you down. It’s that you don’t look like the fellows I know back home. You don’t act like them either, and so I keep saying the wrong things.”
“Maybe I’m not like the fellows back home.”
He certainly wasn’t. Winn was wild like this country. As foreign to her as the cacti. Yet, there was something about him that drew her in. She sensed he was putting up a front. He pulled off a tough-guy, don’t-care image, but he gave off an underlying current of goodness.
She recognized his front because it was what she did every day. She grew up playing a role. She had to dress and talk and act the way the daughter of a mining baron should.
By now they’d reached the town, which was just starting to wake up. Shops were still closed, but several miners were headed into the restaurants serving breakfast.
Winn tipped his hat. “Good day, Miss Bergmann. Enjoy your trip back to Boston.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure I will, eventually.”
He gave her a quizzical look before jerking his chin in the direction of the hotel. “After you leave the watch for Lou, you’ve no more reason to stay. I’m sure you’ve got friends and family who miss you.”
“How do you know about the watch?” She’d not told anyone in town what business they had for Cousin Lou.
His gaze skittered down the road and back to her. “You told me yesterday.”
She crossed her arms. “No, yesterday you told me to leave town before it was too late. Were you listening to me and Lou?” She searched her memory to try to remember when they’d talked about the watch. It wasn’t this morning, so Winn had to have been listening last night. “Do you eavesdrop on folks often?”
He held up his hands. “Never on purpose. I’ve got enough of my own worries.” He backed away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“What did you mean by ‘too late,’ anyway?” she called after him.
He didn’t answer, just held his hand high above his head in a dismissive wave.
Chapter 10
Billie found her uncle enjoying a leisurely breakfast at the hotel. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when she walked up to his corner table.
“I thought you were being held for ransom.” He downed the last of his coffee.
“Got out for good behavior.” She sat across from him. “I thought we didn’t have enough money to stay at the hotel.”
Uncle Dale shot her a look. “I stayed up all night.”
For the first time Billie noticed his bloodshot eyes. “Lou wants you to leave the watch at the front desk. Then we can go.”
His face hardened. “I’m not leaving something like that with a clerk. If it went missing she’d have the law after us.”
“She wouldn’t. She doesn’t know anything about the watch, and I don’t think she cares that much about it.”
“Ah.” He held up a finger. “That’s what she wants you to believe. Didn’t you see the greed in her eyes when I mentioned it? No, there’s something special about this watch, and it’s not its ability to keep time. The thing’s broken.”
Billie hadn’t noticed any change in Lou at the mention of the watch. Uncle Dale was just hoping there was, so he’d have an excuse to stay in town and investigate the mine.
The waitress refilled Uncle’s coffee. She was the same woman who’d given Billie a hard time when she asked about her cousin Lou. The townspeople could have just told her that cousin Lou was a woman. No need to make fun of her for not keeping close family ties.
Billie waited with an icy glare until they were alone again.
“Lou’s not mining much gold. Just enough for herself. She says there isn’t a strong vein at all. What she has is a pretty cave with some turquoise. Nothing big enough for our company to take an interest in.”
“Of course, she would say that.”
Billie thought about telling him she’d seen the mine, but something held her back. “She’s proud is all,” she said. “You see how she lives.”
Uncle Dale added sugar and a generous pour of cream. “If she would accept help she’d be a lot happier for it.”
“For now, she just wants the watch. Have you got it?”
Uncle Dale glanced around before reaching into his inside jacket pocket. He pulled out a gold pocket watch and handed it to her.
German made. Antique. The face was pearlized and quite pretty. The hands were frozen at 11:59. She flipped it over and saw the name Fremont engraved on the back.
Billie fought to keep the surprise off her face. That was the name of the cousin who had come over from Germany and helped Lou set up her claim. The same one who took off and hadn’t been heard from since. Why would her father have Fremont’s pocket watch?
She looked up and smiled. “You’re right. It’s just a pocket watch that doesn’t keep time.”
Uncle took back the watch, running his finger along the seam. “I tried to pry it open, but it’s sealed tight and my tools are too thick to wedge in there. I’ll have to take it to a jeweler to pop the back off and take a look.”
“You can’t do that,” Billie said, her voice rising. The couple next to them looked over, so she lowered to a whisper. “It’s not your watch.”
“Until I deliver it to Lou, technically, I’m in charge of it.”
“She’s not going to get talked out of her claim,” Billie said, her voice getting louder again. Lou was right. Uncle was digging in his heels. At this rate, she’d never get home to Boston. Her friends would all forget about her, and her mother would continue to face her illness alone.
Uncle tossed his cloth napkin on the plate. “Come with me.”
After paying for his meal, he led her outside, away from the building.
With a low voice, he said, “We’re not leaving until that claim is brought under control of Bergmann Consolidated. Now, are you going to help or not?”
“Not,” Billie said. “It’s a tiny claim. Certainly not worth staying in town for when you are supposed to bring me to Boston.” She kept her voice even, controlled, but let her eyes express her anger.
Uncle’s face reflected an internal struggle. He seemed to be vacillating between confiding in her and keeping her in the dark. Did he trust her to help him, or was he afraid she’d expose his scheme? Finally, he grabbed her elbow and led her to the back of the hotel. He waited until the busboy finished dumping the scraps and went back inside.
“Listen carefully. It’s. All. Real. Everything you’ve been told about your family is the truth.”
Billie squinted against the sun. “What do you mean? What’s real?”
Uncle glanced around. “I’m talking about the stories.” He raised his eyebrows, giving her a knowing look.
“What stories?” Billie asked, getting defensive. The only stories she could think of were the fairy-tale ones. Surely those weren’t what Uncle Dale was talking about. Being on her mother’s side of the family, he wouldn’t know about them.
“The fairy tale is a cover up. It’s real. The mine. The mirror.” He looked earnest. “They didn’t want anyone to know. They wanted to keep the mirror to themselves.”
Billie laughed nervously. “What did they feed you at the hotel last night? I think something’s affected your sense of reason.”
He squeezed her arm, pressing his thumb into the tender flesh on the inside of her elbow and leaned in close.
“I’m not joking. Your father had the documents in his safe. Deeds. Maps. He was tracking the location of the mirror, and he traced it to right here. He figured it was hidden in Cousin Lou’s mine.”
Billie’s stomach lurched.
Uncle let go of her arm and dug into his sack. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and shoved them at her.
“Lou probably doesn’t even know the mirror’s there. Look for yourself.”
Billie quickly rifled through the documents. A lot of it she didn’t understand, but she caught enough bits and pieces to figure out Uncle Dale’s plan. Lou’s claim
had been idle for too long, so, it was about to be marked as abandoned.
“That’s why you wanted to be here on a certain day. So you could step in and buy the claim.”
“But with Lou back, she’s likely to be working the claim today to keep her ownership.”
Billie nodded. When she’d left, Lou had been pulling out her mining equipment. “I don’t understand why it matters so much to you.” Since, if it were real, it belongs in my family anyway.
“Think about it. A magic mirror. According to the fairy tale, the evil queen made magic potions. What if she learned how to do that from the mirror? The mirror might be the key to healing your mother. We could ask it for a cure.”
Billie had been prepared to counter whatever silly thing her uncle might say, but she wasn’t prepared for him to give a selfless reason that actually made sense. Her father had done everything he could to help her mother. Nothing worked.
Frowning, Billie studied the papers until she began to see why he was so convinced. Father had collected ancient documents describing a truth-telling mirror that would answer one question a day. Not a magic lamp granting wishes, but an honest answer. It could answer anything from where someone was, to how to make a poisoned apple.
The tales sounded like make believe until they were paired with maps and newspaper accounts of strange goings-on. There was enough evidence here to indicate the mirror was special. Especially the report from the town Lohrs am Main in Germany which referenced a talking mirror. By the description, though, the “talking” came from aphorisms carved onto the frame. Maybe not magical, but certainly valuable. If she remembered her history correctly, aphorisms started out as medical principles. It was possible there might be some wisdom carved into the frame to help her mom.
And what if it was true? What if the mirror was real, in whatever form it might take?
Her father should have told her. It wasn’t right that Uncle Dale was the one tracking it down. He might say he was doing it for her mother, but if he were to find it first, you can bet Billie wouldn’t even catch a glimpse before he’d secret it away for himself.
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