The lights in the lobby flickered, indicating intermission was over.
“I should get back to her,” Billie said, conscience pricked. “We’re having a marvelous time. Thank you for the tickets.”
Billie felt the angry heat coming off Lou from three rows back. She shuffled her way through the seats until she reached her cousin who was staring straight ahead, jaw set.
“How do you know her?” Lou’s voice came out hard and clipped. She was angrier than the day they met.
Funny, it was the same question Billie wanted to ask her. Or rather, why the anger? Matron had been nothing but kind and generous. Inviting Billie to the salon, giving her tickets to the show. She was heaps more friendly than anyone else had been in this town.
Lou shifted in her seat to get a better angle to glare at her. “I’ll ask again. How do you know her?”
Fortunately, the lights dimmed, saving Billie from having to continue the conversation. For the remainder of the show, Lou fidgeted. She twisted in her seat. She sighed. She took out her handkerchief and wrapped it around her thumb, unwrapped it, and wrapped it again. She was so distracting that Billie couldn’t concentrate on the play and ended up with her own stomach tumbling in worry over what Lou was going to say once it was all over.
She didn’t have long to wait. As soon as the curtain fell, Lou was up and moving. While the rest of the crowd clapped to bring the actors back out on stage, Lou squeezed between the people and the chairs.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” repeated Billie as she trailed after her cousin.
Hopefully, Uncle Dale was finished with his sleuthing because Lou was going to make it home in record time. Once they were outside the theater, Billie had to jog to catch up. Her cousin’s hands were clenched at her side as she marched down the boardwalk with fast, sharp, clipped steps.
“What’s wrong?” Billie asked. “I thought we were having a nice time.”
“Girl, what is the weather like where you live?”
Billie blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Your head is stuck in the clouds. Come on back down to earth and pay attention to what’s going on around you. You lack street smarts kid, and that woman back there will be the end of you if you let her get close.”
Billie’s temper kicked in. “You are prickly on purpose. You think everyone laughs and talks about you because of the way you look. You’re so busy judging them that you don’t stop to think that you’re the one doing the judging. Did it ever occur to you that you push people away? You live all by yourself, alone up on a mountain about as far away from town as you can get. You dress like a lumberjack and refuse to participate in town life. What are you afraid of?”
Lou paled and Billie gulped back the next words she was going to say. She’d said too much already. Lou pressed on ahead while Billie stopped in front of the library. Lou didn’t turn around once.
The rage drained from Billie’s mind, being replaced with regret. She didn’t mean to hurt Lou. If the woman wanted to live by herself, why did it matter? If Billie was sensing any underlying loneliness, well that was Lou’s business.
Billie turned to go back to the hotel when she saw Matron standing outside the theater, watching, an indecipherable look on her face.
Chapter 18
In the morning, Billie couldn’t wait to talk to Uncle Dale, but he was nowhere to be found. She concluded that he was either in his room, sleeping off a long night, or still at the Faro tables. With the mine open twenty-four hours, most of the town seemed to be open twenty-four hours as well. A fellow could win and lose his fortune several times over in one night.
Wonder if he found the mirror? Or if Lou caught him.
And more importantly, how was Lou’s mood today?
Billie could go up the mountain and talk about what happened at the play last night, but instead, she spent the morning puttering about town, avoiding confrontation. Or at least she tried to.
Walking outside the drug store, Billie nodded hello at a woman, and the woman looked away, pressing up close to the wall as she passed. Farther down, another woman darted across the road when Billie came near.
What is going on?
Eventually, she wandered over to the bench where Winn took his lunch, hoping he’d walk past on his way through town. He might know of Lou’s mood if he’d seen her that morning. There was no way for Billie to make it look like she wasn’t waiting for him, so she didn’t try, constantly looking up the mountain.
A cactus wren fluttered down to the dirt at the side of the street, digging about for seeds and insects. It was an industrious little thing, turning over leaves and poking the ground. Winn was late. If he were even going to walk by at all.
When a shadow fell over the bird, it took flight.
Billie looked up to see Winn.
“Philopena!” they both said at the same time. Drat.
Their smiles mirrored each another, and Billie was thrilled he was playing the game. It meant a certain level of interest, despite his odd insistence that she and her uncle would be better off leaving town.
“What do you do when there is a tie?” Winn asked.
Billie adjusted her hat so she could see Winn better. “Play the longer game. See whose wits outlast the other’s.”
“Easy. It’s going to be me. I don’t give up.” He continued his walk through town.
Billie hopped off the bench and kept step with him. “But I am an expert at this game.”
“Oh? Do you play it often in Boston?”
“Once or twice,” she said, again thinking how deeply unsatisfying the game of wits had been with Branson. “It’s not a game you can pick up any old time since you have to have the right circumstances. A double nut for starters.”
“Speaking of right circumstances, has your uncle finished his business?”
“No.” Here we go again. Just when she thought they’d been making progress.
“You should have gone when I told you to.”
“Well, we’re still here.”
“And you made friends with the Matron.”
“Acquaintances. Didn’t you want me to find out what she did at night? Last night she attended the play at the Opera House.”
He frowned. “I shouldn’t have asked you. I was frustrated that day. You should stay away from her. Far away. Like Boston far away.”
“It’s hard to take you seriously if you won’t tell me your reasons. If you dislike this town so much, why don’t you go?”
By now they’d reached the corner where Winn always left her. That meant they were going to part ways on a sour note.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I can’t leave. You can. If I were you, I’d pack up and be gone before the sun goes down. The longer you’re here the more you’re at risk.”
“At risk for what? This town doesn’t seem lawless.” It was a downright quiet town aside from the shouts of children playing a game of tag. “There’s no smallpox epidemic here like back in Boston. What am I missing?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, and your cousin would kill me if I did.”
“Well I can’t leave either. My uncle’s not done with his dealings.”
Winn held up his hands. “Your life. Your funeral.”
Billie cocked her head. “Why do you talk like that? Better yet, why are you the only one who will talk to me? Some of the people here treat me like I’m diseased.”
With the name Bergmann she was used to people going out of their way to be nice to her. It was an odd turnaround to have people scatter in her presence. Especially in a mining town. Even Winn had heard of her family name, so what was wrong with everyone else?
“They know something strange is happening up the mountain. You gotta get out. Stay away from your Cousin Lou’s place before you’re caught up in it, too.”
“Caught up in what? Do you owe someone money? Does Lou?” If that was the problem, she could help.
“What will it take to convince you? I don’t want you to s
tay and get hurt.”
“If it’s that dangerous, maybe you should leave, too.”
His face turned hard, and he looked away. “I can’t leave this town. Ever. And if you stay, it might trap you, too.”
“Now, that’s not melodramatic.” Billie raised her eyebrows to show she thought he was exaggerating.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but I get to the outskirts of town and develop such a sharp pain in my head, I’m literally forced to turn back for fear my skull will split open.”
She scoffed. “That’s the best you can do? If you’re going to lie, at least tell me something plausible. I’m not an idiot.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, watching the people walk around them, giving them both plenty of space.
Billie waited, wondering if he were coming up with a new lie, and if she should stay to listen to it.
Finally, he said, “In the spirit of the philopena, please don’t take a walk with me.” Before waiting for an answer, he shifted directions and hiked up a new street that led out of town and up the mountain.
Billie ran to catch up. “We’re walking out? How far?” And all this to prove, what? She reached out to stop him. “I can’t go without telling my uncle.”
“We’ll be back. Soon as I prove to you I’m not lying.”
“Anyone can fake a headache. I do it all the time when I want to get out of gym class at school.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. She’d never told anyone that before. She fought hard to keep her image just so.
“We don’t have to do this,” she continued. “I get it. You don’t want to leave town, but you want me to.” She stopped walking. “I won’t bother you again. As soon as my uncle is done with his business we are on that train.”
He turned around, his expression not what she expected. Instead of a smirk of victory, or an open look of relief, he looked mad.
He marched over to her and grabbed her by the hand. His grip was strong and his callouses rubbed against her soft skin. When he didn’t let go, her stomach flip-flopped. His touch wasn’t a fleeting moment like she’d shared with Branson. This was…this was…What? Conviction. He felt so strongly about convincing her he was telling the truth. Maybe he was. He really wanted her to believe in him.
“I don’t have to prove anything to you, but if that’s what it takes to get you to leave this place, I’ll do it,” Winn said.
Is he telling the truth? Is there something wrong with this town?
He kept a good pace, and Billie surprised herself that she was able to keep up despite the steep slope. If nothing else, she was becoming stronger out West. There was so much hiking.
They climbed one peak, turned, and climbed the next. Billie’s lungs began to protest, but she kept pace because she didn’t want him to stop holding her hand. With his preoccupation, she figured he had forgotten he was still holding on to her.
She tried to hide her labored breathing, noting that Winn was as silent as the geckos scurrying off the path. But he must have noticed her struggles, because he slowed down.
“How far do we have to go?” Billie asked. You could keep walking and walking and find yourself in Mexico.
He jerked his chin to the summit. “Right about there.”
Billie scanned the red-rock mountain. Like the other hills, the brush had been cleared to feed the furnace in the smelter and was only now starting to come back as stubby bushes of creosote along with a few sycamore trees.
“I can get to the top, look out over freedom, but that’s it.” His voice grew quiet. “I come here a lot.” He was still holding her hand, as though drawing on her for support.
If he was trying to convince her to leave, he was accomplishing the exact opposite. The feel of her hand in his was too comforting a sensation for her to give up anytime soon. She had to help him, whatever his problem was.
There had been nothing she could do for her mom or her dad, but maybe she could help this boy who had captured her interest from the moment she’d stepped into town.
She silently studied his profile, noting his furrowed brow and a trickle of sweat sliding down his neck. His tanned face took on an ashen look that scared her.
“How do you feel right now?” she said.
“I’m feeling the tremors. It’s a warning to let me know I’m getting near the edge.”
Billie took check of her own reactions. She felt completely normal for hiking up a mountain in her still-unbroken boots. Winded and sweaty, but not stressed the way Winn was beginning to look. They were almost at the summit now, and he was visibly shaking.
“It’s an oval, far as I can tell,” he said with a slight wheeze. “I can walk this edge all around town, but no farther.” He bent over as if catching his breath.
“The town is the center?” That’s why he was warning her there was something wrong with the town.
He cleared his throat. “Uh. No. Your cousin’s place is.”
Billie gasped as a chill ran down her back. She remembered the feeling that first night she stayed at Lou’s place. Like she was being watched. It wasn’t the town that was off, it was Lou’s shack. What if Lou wasn’t what she seemed?
“Why do you think Lou’s place is the epicenter?” She tried to keep her voice light, but it came out squeaky. The conversation was getting weirder by the minute, but as strange as it was, she believed Winn—about something. It was hard to tell exactly what was going on. He couldn’t fake the reaction his body was having. Maybe he had hay fever? Severe hay fever.
“I’ve said too much already. I can’t tell you anything more about Lou’s place. Just know that this is real, and you need to leave while you still can.”
Looking down on the town revealed nothing unusual. It looked like all the other mining towns Billie had seen. A mix of shacks and false front buildings and brick structures. Ramshackle and fancy all at the same time. Beyond the town, smoke and steam from the smelter rose steadily from the smokestacks. It was quite serene and so opposite to the anguish being played out on the mountaintop.
Winn turned and faced the other way. “I wish I could go out there.”
Undulating hills stretched on as far as she could see. No signs of civilization save a miner’s shack or two. “My uncle made me trek—” She happened to look at Winn and saw the strain on his face.
“How much pain are you in?”
“I can handle it. It reminds me of my limits.” He dropped her hand. “Watch this.” He took not five paces down the side of the hill before he collapsed.
Chapter 19
Winn dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Billie’s heart plummeted, and she scrambled down beside him. Dirt and small rocks slid down with her.
“Winn!”
She put her cheek to his lips and felt his warm breath. Praise be. He was still breathing but was out cold. She cradled his head in her lap, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.
“Oh, Winn. I’m so sorry.” When she pulled her hand away, there was a streak of blood from where he must have hit a sharp rock.
“Come back to me.” She patted his cheeks, trying in vain to wake him.
Now what?
She looked helplessly around at the hardscrabble landscape before setting her resolve. If he can’t be this far from the center, whatever that meant, then she’d have to drag him back past the invisible line.
His long blond eyelashes rested sweetly against the top of his cheeks. The tremors had stopped, and he looked pain-free. A sleeping boy whom she would have to manhandle up and over the mountain.
At least he was out and wouldn’t be able to make fun of her attempts to move him. She summed up his body, taking special notice of his broad shoulders and hoped she’d be able to lift him. There was no advice for how to move a comatose boy in Ladies’ Home Journal.
She adjusted position, taking care to keep his head supported. “Okay, we’ll just use my skirt as a stretcher to pull you back.” She patted his head. “I’m so glad you can’t see
this.”
She reached forward and put her hands under his arms, and then dragged him toward her, digging her heels into the ground for leverage. He was heavier than she thought, and the progress was slow. She wasn’t sure how far to bring him, so she kept inching back until he began to moan.
Moaning was a good sign. It meant he wasn’t dead.
Billie kept his head cradled as she hovered over him. Some of her hair had fallen out of her bun and now framed her face as she studied him upside down, waiting, waiting, waiting, for him to wake.
The sun was high in the sky now. People had to be missing him at work. Wouldn’t they come looking for him? She realized she didn’t know where he worked. He said odd jobs, but what did that mean?
Finally, he blinked, a dazed look in his eye. For a moment he just looked up at her and she at him.
“Winn. Thank God. What would have happened if you were alone?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She laughed, so glad he was conscious, and that she didn’t have to drag him all the way back to town like this.
He shifted his torso but remained in her modified stretcher. “Someone has always found me and brought me back to town. I’ve woken up in some strange places.”
He started to get up, and Billie pushed his shoulders back down. “Make sure you’ve recovered first.”
“They think I’m a drinker, but I’m not. Even my dad doesn’t trust me. He tells me the water’s the same on both sides of the boat.”
“That’s an odd expression to use in the desert.”
“It’s Finnish. He thinks I’m acting out because I’m not content with life here.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t have the best reputation in town.”
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