Not that she believed it was actually magical, but it might be a gold mirror, and there would be value in that. Enough to make it worth Uncle Dale’s efforts to find it.
If the mirror was something her dad had been tracking down, there had to be a reason he wanted it, and a reason why he thought they should have it. She owed it to Dad to find it. She owed it to herself.
She straightened her spine. Looked her uncle in the eye. “I’ll do it.”
He grinned and punched the air. “That’s my girl.”
“But not for you. For Mom.” Dad had tried everything to help: doctors, an herbalist, and even home-grown tea from the concerned old woman down the street. She could make one last—albeit odd—attempt to save her. “The mirror is my heritage, and if we find it, I get to decide what to do about it. Understood?”
Uncle nodded, hands up in the yield position. “Of course, of course. I was doing this for you all along.”
Billie raised an eyebrow. Neither one of them believed that was the truth, but at least now Billie felt like she was on the same level as her uncle. He’d come clean, so she knew what she was up against. The trick would be to keep an eye on him so he stayed honest with her.
She thought of Lou, who knew every inch of that mine. If there were a gold or a magic mirror hidden inside, she would know, because she would have put it there.
Chapter 11
Uncle Dale refused to let Billie join him at the jewelry store, instead, sending her to wait across the street. Billie agreed, but stationed herself at the window outside a pharmacy in the hopes of learning something anyway.
Two girls about her age strolled toward her, stopping to examine the display of soap in the window.
“You related to that lady up the mountain?” asked the brunette in a gray walking outfit.
The chubby girl beside her looked skittish, like the first girl was making her stand there, but she would prefer to be anywhere else. Billie prepared herself for something unpleasant.
“Is she as crazy as they say?” continued the first.
“What do you mean?” Billie asked.
“They say she sits in her rocking chair all night talking to the walls.”
Billie quirked her lips to show she didn’t believe the girl.
“I’m serious. My brother saw it with his own eyes. Walked past her place when he was late coming home from hunting.”
“Maybe she was singing to herself. Ever think of that?” Billie didn’t know what this girl’s brother had seen, but it didn’t matter. “Alone in her cabin with no neighbors to bother, she could have been talking to God, and here you are talking bad about her.”
The second girl looked at her feet, exhibiting a hint of conscience.
The first girl shook her head emphatically. “It wasn’t like she was singing or praying. He said she was carrying on a conversation with someone who wasn’t there. Crazy as a loon. Best you watch yourself.”
“It’s true,” piped up the skittish girl, gaining confidence. “Everyone in town knows it. Stay up there too long it’ll affect you, too.”
Billie took a step closer to the girl. “Maybe it already has. Maybe you’ll catch it next.” Impulsively, Billie touched the girl’s arm.
The girl yelped and backed away. “Not funny.”
Someone chuckled behind Billie. She turned to see Winn leaning against the building.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch my crazy?” Billie would never act this outlandishly in Boston, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He shook his head. “Nope.”
The girls crossed the dirt street, casting envious looks behind them.
“Friends of yours?” Billie asked.
Winn shrugged and started to walk down the boardwalk.
To keep him there longer, she blurted out, “So I guess you do know my cousin Lou. I figured out the whole town was laughing at me because I didn’t know my own cousin is a woman.”
He slowed his step, allowing her to meet his stride, and the tips of her ears warmed as he gave her his full attention.
“Everyone knows who your cousin is. She stands out even if she doesn’t want to.”
“Do you think she’s as mad as they’re saying?”
Winn turned to the side to allow a group of women to pass. “No. She’s the sanest person in this town.”
“So, the town is crazy?”
“Something like that. Guess you’re leaving today?”
Did she detect regret in his voice?
“No, not today.”
He stopped walking. “Why not?”
“Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t,” he said nonchalantly. “Got my own problems.” He glanced over her shoulder, and his face took on a guilty look. He abruptly changed directions. “Gotta go, city girl.” He crossed the street and went in the direction of Brewery Gulch.
Billie stared after him. She would have followed, but she had to wait for Uncle Dale.
“Whatcha lookin’ at girlie?”
Billie spun around. “Lou! You startled me.”
Cousin Lou marched up to her carrying a small sack. She was covered in sweat and dust, like she’d been working hard all morning.
“Keep away from that boy. He’s trouble.” Lou pointed her finger near Billie’s face. “Now, where’s my watch? Did your uncle leave it at the hotel, or do I need to see him again?”
“He’ll be here soon,” Billie said, trying not to look at the jewelry store. “Why is Winn trouble?”
“Winn, is it?” She blew through her lips. “Doesn’t matter, since you and that uncle of yours are leaving, aren’t you?”
Billie shrugged, not wanting to answer.
“I gotta make a stop before your uncle gets here anyway.” Lou held up her sack. “Prove to the assayer I’m back working my claim. He ain’t going to give it away to anyone. Tell those lawyers it’s time to back down and step off my property.” She lumbered past Billie. “Maybe get myself a mangy dog,” she called over her shoulder.
Once Lou disappeared from sight, Billie hightailed it over to the jewelry store. Henkel’s at 11 Main Street. Is your WATCH on time? If not, Henkel will fix it for you. The advertisement wasn’t terribly poetic, but to the point.
The bell dinged overhead as she walked in.
Uncle Dale stood at the counter with a finely dressed gentleman holding a magnifying glass. Mr. Henkel, she assumed. A variety of tools were splayed out on the counter before them, a velvet cloth laid out with the watch resting on top. The jeweler looked frustrated.
“Excuse me,” Uncle said and then met Billie at the door.
She leaned in to whisper, “Lou is in town.”
He looked back at the jeweler, who was scratching his head and frowning.
“Can you stall her? Take her to the hotel for lunch.”
“I’ll try. Can’t you get the watch open?”
“Darndest thing. It won’t budge.”
“Maybe it’s not supposed to open.”
Uncle didn’t look convinced. “They have to be able to open it to fix the gears. We’re trying to find a secret spring lock now. These fancy timepieces have trigger spots on them.”
“Well, don’t take too long. I don’t know how much conversation I can make with her. We don’t exactly have a lot in common.”
“You’re family. Talk about family stories.” He lifted an eyebrow before turning back to the jeweler. “I say, Henkel, if you can’t do the job I’ll take it up the street to that fellow under the post office. Keenhold. Saw his ad in the paper, too.”
“Don’t be hasty. I’ve almost got it.”
Billie slipped out the door, relieved to see Lou up the street, facing away from the jeweler. Billie skirted around a wagon and crossed the road, trying to cover up where she’d come from.
“Cousin Lou,” she called.
“There you are. Well?”
“My uncle said to meet him at the hotel. He’ll have the watch with him.”
�
��I’m not buying you two hooligans lunch.”
Billie frowned. “I can buy lunch.” Not that she had the money on her. She was relying on her uncle having some left over from his evening venture in the saloons, or from wiring in some from her mother. If he hadn’t wired in the money yet, Billie would take care of it. “The food at the Copper Queen is quite good.”
“I’m sure it won’t kill me, and it’s bound to be better than what you fed me last night.”
Billie breathed out slowly to keep herself from sending another insult flying back. There was no need for rudeness. She never did claim to be a five-star chef, only better than Uncle’s can of beans.
Once they were seated, Lou fussed with her napkin. “Don’t like restaurants,” she said. “I prefer to do my own cooking.”
“I’m the opposite. Love restaurants. Wish I could eat in one every day. Although, at home we have a cook, so it’s similar to eating out. I just don’t get to choose whatever I want like you can when you order off a menu.”
“Poor you.”
“Tell me about your side of the family,” Billie said, ignoring Lou’s tone. “Any interesting characters or stories I should know about?”
“Know about your grandpa?”
Billie nodded. “A little.”
“He was my uncle. I only met him once. He gave me a candy, so I liked him.”
“I know he took over the family company when he was nineteen. His dad had died in a mining accident.”
Lou nodded. “Brilliant man—but cocky and paranoid. Not a good combination. What else do you know about him or the family?”
Was this the time when Billie was supposed to ask outright if Snow White was real, and if the family harbored her in the woods and ultimately took possession of a magic mirror? No. Lou would think she was the crazy one.
Unless Lou believed it, too.
Billie decided to hedge, just in case.
“I’ve heard bits and pieces. Stories mainly,” she said. “When I was a child they sounded like fairy tales.” She laughed uncomfortably.
“I might have heard those same stories,” Lou said, noncommittally.
They stared at each other.
“Not that they were true,” Lou finally said.
“Of course.”
“Several generations ago there was a rift in the family,” Lou said. “They all lived back in Germany then, and overnight, Eberhardt Bergmann moved the base of the family operations to America and got into hard rock mining in Colorado. The only one who truly believed in him was his younger sister, my grandmother, whom he invited to immigrate to America when he got injured. He wanted her to take over the company. The old coot didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t family, and she was the only one still talking to him. That’s how I ended up in America.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “But my grandmother didn’t care for the work and against Eberhardt’s wishes turned the reigns over to another branch of the family. Then many years later, your daddy took over.”
The waitress came to take their orders.
“Should we wait for my uncle?” Billie asked, but Lou was already ordering.
“I’ll have mock turtle soup with water thins and green apple pie for dessert,” said Lou. She handed the menu to the waitress.
For someone who didn’t like eating in restaurants, she was awfully specific.
“Hamburger, please,” Billie said. When they were alone again, Billie cleared her throat. “Like I said, my dad used to tell me stories that sounded like fairy tales.”
“Mmm?”
“He had me convinced that our family had a magical treasure hidden deep in the forest in Germany.” Billie paused to study Lou’s reaction. Nothing.
“Sounds like he had an active imagination.”
“He said something about a special mirror that was in the family. Do you know anything about that?”
Lou shrugged. “Some members are wealthier than others, more vain than others, so they have lots of mirrors. My aunt Hildegard had one in every room.” Her pupils dilated ever so slightly.
Got her.
“Dad was very specific about this mirror because it had a legend surrounding it.” Billie leaned forward so she could whisper. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall.”
Lou blinked. “Next you’ll wonder if any of the family owns a glass slipper. Don’t you beat all?” She fussed with her napkin. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The food arrived, stealing away the moment. Billie leaned back. Almost had her.
Then Uncle Dale entered the dining room. He saw them and waved.
Billie waved back, but her attention was fully on Cousin Lou, who was examining her. Billie smiled and pretended she hadn’t said anything shocking or revelatory. Let Lou stew a bit before Billie brought the mirror up again.
“My two favorite girls in Bisbee,” said Uncle Dale opening his arms as if expecting a hug.
“Got my watch?” Lou said.
Uncle Dale patted his jacket pocket as he sat. “How’s the food?” He eyed Billie’s hamburger and signaled for the waitress. “I’ll have one of those.”
“Isn’t this nice?” he continued. “You two enjoying the family reunion? Billie hasn’t met many of her German relatives. I was hoping you’d get well acquainted.”
“We’re acquainted,” Lou said. “Told all the old stories. So, now can I have my watch and be on my way?”
“You get lonely up that mountain, Lou? Ever think about moving to someplace like Boston where you’ve got family to rely on?”
They both turned to look at him.
“You’re not suggesting—” Billie said.
At the same time, Lou said, “I like living alone.”
He held up his hands. “Hear me out. Lou, you could move with Billie to Boston. We’d set you up in the grand house there. There’s plenty of room. You’d not have a care for the rest of your life. You’re family. Billie and her mother would love to have you, wouldn’t she, Billie?”
Uncle Dale knew that her mother couldn’t handle much right now. Her illness made her irritable and tired. No, her mother would not love to keep company with a stranger, even if she was family.
“And I suppose,” Lou said with ice in her voice, “that in exchange, you’ll take care of my claim. Bet what took you so long is you went to the assayer’s office and found out my claim is solid, and you’ve no sneaky way to pull it out from under me.”
Lou stood abruptly. “My home is here. It may not look like much to you fancy people, but it suits my needs just fine. I’ll take my watch now.” She waited, fuming.
Uncle shrugged and made a show of taking her watch out of his pocket. He handed it to her with a smile. She nodded at each of them and then stormed out of the restaurant.
Billie couldn’t believe that final exchange. “What did you do that for? Now she’s angry.”
He calmly pointed out the window. Lou had pulled out the watch and flipped it over to read the engraving on the back.
Billie knew what the name meant, but did Uncle? He never asked her if there was a Fremont in the family.
“I’m keeping her rattled. She’s bound to make a mistake sooner or later.”
“Or you’re going to make a mistake. Did you get the watch open?”
He shook his head. “The jeweler tried everything. Maybe it is just a watch.” He reached over and took a bite of the apple pie that Lou had left behind.
“Oh, that’s good,” he said and finished it off.
Uncle Dale acted overly nonchalant about the watch. It was possible he was able to get it open, and he wasn’t telling her. How was she to know? Since no one was telling the complete story, how was she to figure out any of the truth?
Chapter 12
“Now what?” Billie asked as she strode along the boardwalk with her uncle. She was disappointed she’d never gotten the chance to circle back to the magic mirror story with Lou before Uncle Dale had joined them, but she still felt like she’d made progress. Lou had visibly reacted,
though she tried not to.
“I confirm with the assayer. Make sure Lou retains ownership before making the next move.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t know yet.” He smiled. “But I’m glad you’re on board. Tricky business this is. I didn’t know how much you knew, or if you’d be interested in pursuing the opportunity.”
“You mean if I would believe that such a mirror existed. The jury’s still out on that one. But if we find something that would help my mom, well, we’re already here. It wouldn’t hurt anything to look around.”
As they passed the townspeople on the boardwalk, the folks stepped aside, giving them a wider berth than was meant out of politeness. A whisper here, a whisper there. No one would make eye contact with her.
For being strangers in the town, their presence was already well known. Uncle Dale didn’t seem to notice, the way he had his eyes trained ahead, focused on the assayer’s office.
While Billie had never shied away from attention before, this kind of attention was unnerving. The questions they’d been asking must have stirred up something in the town.
This time at the assayer’s office, Uncle Dale didn’t tell her to wait outside. He had nothing to hide now. Their boots clomped on the wooden floor announcing their arrival, but the assayer didn’t look up. A heavily mustached man, he was focused on testing ore the miner at the counter had brought in.
Billie, used to seeing such equipment lying around her father’s office, took stock of the place. He had the usual glass beakers and scales and a variety of metal tools.
Soon, notes were made, money was exchanged, and the prospector left the building.
The assayer looked up and frowned beneath his mustache. Without saying a word, he retrieved an envelope and slid it across the counter to Uncle. “Not this time, mate.”
“Any other ideas?” Uncle asked. He picked up the envelope, casually letting some money spill out onto the counter.
Billie’s eyes widened. Was Uncle Dale trying to bribe the assayer?
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