Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (23 page)

“I was just going to tell Clara to put away her gown, as not to tempt her,” Gabe says, smirking.

“Miss Harris is also under the impression she will be traveling on the twenty-first,” Colonel Blair says.

Doctor O’Grady shakes his head. “Absolutely not! I insist that Miss Harris rest for at least two week’s time, doctor’s orders.”

“Inform the staff Miss Harris is not to leave the Mansion,” Colonel Blair says, jumping on the bandwagon. “Also, see to it that she can neither sell her dress nor rent a room in town.  It would also be wise to speak with the ticket counter at railroad station to ensure she cannot purchase a ticket. We cannot have her traipsing around the country while so ill.”

“Of course,” says Gabe, leaving the room.

“Miss Harris, you have a heart of gold but no commonsense.” Dr. O’Grady inspects my head, shaking his own. “You are fortunate to be alive, yet you are worried about inconveniencing Colonel Blair?”

“This is precisely why you are in my home,” Colonel Blair tells him. “Miss Harris is so determined to help others, she disregards her own safety.”

“Miss Harris, as your doctor, I must agree with Colonel Blair. I try to avoid getting involved others’ affairs. However, you must begin thinking of your own well-being.”

Gabe’s concoction is making its way through my body, but I am still very tired. Ignoring the two men, I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

*     *     *

“Miss Harris, you poor dear!” Julia Whitaker surprises me with a visit after lunch. She dashes into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. “I just received word this morning you were hurt in the mine!”

“Mrs. Whitaker, we must not excite or tire Miss Harris,” Clara says from the corner. “Doctor O’Grady has given strict instructions that visits must be brief.”

“Naturally,” she says, turning to me. “Colonel Blair informed me of the severity of your injury. How are you feeling?”

“I am regaining my strength,” I respond truthfully. Whatever was in Gabe’s concoction worked better than an energy drink.  Although I’m still exhausted, I can at least sit up.

“Do not try to get on your feet too quickly. You will need time to recover.”

“Yes, but I am concerned for the welfare of many of Virginia City’s children,” I begin.

She stops me with a shake of her head. “Miss Harris, you are to recover and nothing more.”

I take her hand. “Julia, I am leaving on the twenty-first. I will never be able to live with myself if I did not do everything in my power to ease suffering while I am here. Perhaps we could hold a concert with the proceeds to be divided between St. Paul’s and St. Mary’s?”

“A concert with the Catholics?” Her brows furrow.

“Yes, we can raise a lot more money, if we work together.”

She thinks for a moment before a smile appears on her face. “Virginia City could use some Christian spirit. I will set straight to work putting together a program. I am certain the organist will agree to perform.”

“You may add my name to the list as well. I should be well enough to play a couple songs on the violin.” I uncomfortably stretch my neck.

“I am afraid I must put your feminine scheming to an end,” Colonel Blair says from the doorway. “It is time for Miss Harris to rest.”

Julia rises to her feet.

“Yes, and I have a musical program to arrange.” She goes to the door, stopping right in front of Colonel Blair. “Due to Miss Harris’s circumstances, I feel responsible for her well-being. Living with a bachelor is hardly ideal, even in Virginia City. Perhaps you should consider officially courting her? I can show myself out.”

She sweeps from the room, not bothering to wait for a response.

Colonel Blair smirks, walking to the bed. “Clara, I will take the next shift.”

She nods. “Call if you need anything. I will be outside having lunch with my family.”

She follows Julia out the door.

I lay my head on the pillow. Colonel Blair smiles while kicking off his boots. He removes his jacket before lying on the blankets.

“You are not well,” he says, tracing under my eyes.

“I’m worried.”

“Doctor O’Malley said you have improved.” He feels my forehead.

“I’m not worried about me. I will be fine. I’m worried about the families of the dead miners.”

“Of course you are.” He sighs. “Rebecca, you are so ill, yet you worry for everyone except yourself. I will ensure the widows are given their husbands’ wages.”

“That is not enough. Their families were counting on their wages for food and shelter. Now, the money will be used to bury their husbands. There are children who are fatherless and women who are widows. It will be a very bleak year for these families.”

He stares at me, breathing deeply. “What would you have me do?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“It would bring me peace of mind knowing their families will not be cold or hungry throughout the spring.”

Again, he takes a deep breath, moving closer. “You are the most demanding woman,” he whispers.

Very hesitantly, I reach up and run my fingers through his dark, curly hair. It is incredibly soft. My fingers go from his hair to his face. I gently cup my hand to his cheek.

“Please, Colonel Blair,” I implore.

He takes my hand in his. “Anything for you.”

I smile faintly. I am relieved to know the mourning families will be cared for.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He clears his throat. “Rebecca, about what Mrs. Whitaker said about us courting…”

I interrupt, “Colonel Blair, I assure you I haven’t been given cause to assume a relationship between us is possible.”

“Then I have not been forthcoming enough.” He winces as he sits up.  He whispers, “I cannot live without you. For too long, I have been wandering in insanity. Then you arrived, bringing the one ray of sunshine to my otherwise meaningless life. You asked what brings me peace. It is definitely not gold and silver. It is you and you alone.”

“But I thought you saw me as a child? Small, simple, and plain.”

He frowns severely. “How can you be so ignorant about your qualities? You are everything a woman should be: beautiful, petite, and kind. You are perfection.”

I laugh as though he’s made a terrible joke. “I’ll resume my efforts to find you a proper companion this afternoon.”

“There is no need.” He goes to the door. “None will ever compare to you, because you are without equal.  As I have failed to properly demonstrate my regard, I must remedy this. I must make an order. I will return momentarily to ensure you behave yourself.”

*     *     *

I spend the remainder of the day resting under the watchful eyes of Colonel Blair. He has a desk moved to my room and makes good on his promise to care for the miners’ widows. He writes letters and sends money to each of the women. Then he deals with business matters.

“You need to be at the mine,” I say, watching him read a ledger.

He lifts his eyes to mine. “No, I need to be here. Gabe manages the mine. He has a knack for choosing honest and hard-working workers and loyal supervisors. Pa always said he had a sixth-sense when it came to people. Our mine is the best manned in the Comstock Lode. It practically runs itself.”

“What do you do?” I ask, knowing Gabe has Rosanna’s help in staffing the mine.

“My tasks are the most difficult. I deal with politics and try to keep you out of trouble.” He laughs.

I try to throw a pillow at him. It falls limply on the floor.

He laughs harder. “You are so small you could not hurt a fly!”

He wipes moisture from his eyes.

“Do not mock my size,
Goliath
,” I retort. He stops laughing but can’t wipe the dorky grin off his face. I demand, “Why are you smiling?”

“You do not want to know, so I will keep my secrets,” he says, returning the pillow to the bed before getting back to work.

I glance out the window, seeing a small moth fluttering by.

“It has been very quiet,” I muse. “Has your Uncle Samuel been unwell?”

He shakes his head, not looking up from his work. “He often spends long periods of time with his loose woman, but he will return when he runs out of money.  If he wins a few hands of poker, he is away longer.”

I nod, hoping he wins those hands. Clearing my throat, I say, “Some would say I am a loose woman. I am staying with a bachelor without a chaperon, and we have slept in the same bed.”

“It is not the same. Our interactions have been innocent. Samuel and Cassandra spend their time in idle pleasure-seeking.”

“Colonel Blair…”

He looks up from his ledger, penetrating into my eyes. “Rebecca, I would prefer you to call me James. It is my given name.”

“I do not feel that is wise,” I counter.

The man refuses to listen to me. “It is wise, because I have nothing but good intentions regarding you.”

I open my mouth to object, but I never get the chance. Gunfire erupts outside the Mansion. Colonel Blair jumps to his feet, dashing to the door.

“STAY HERE!” he barks before sprinting from the room.

Fearing I’ve forced Samuel’s hand, I get out of bed. Instantly going lightheaded, I collapse on the floor. My strength is returning, but it I’m still not healthy. I lay my head on the cold floor and close my eyes. There’s a full-fledged gunfight outside, and I can’t even get up off the floor.

Footsteps dash into the room.

“There she is,” Clara says.

Strong arms pick me up off the floor.

“Miss Harris, are you hurt?” White Cloud asks.

“No. What is happening outside? I tried to go see, but I am too dizzy to stand.”

“I’m grateful you are confined to this room.”

“Yes,” Clara agrees. “It is best you stay out of trouble.”

“But Colonel Blair?” I open my eyes, finding them standing over me with rifles.

“My band will not let anything happen to him,” says Clara.

“Is it Samuel?” I question.

White Cloud’s eyebrows furrow. “Samuel Blair? What cause would he have to harm Colonel Blair?”

I sigh. “Several million dollars is plenty of cause to hurt him. Clara isn’t the only one I came to warn. Samuel wants his money and will hurt a lot of people to get it.”

“Where is he?”

“I’m not quite sure. He is always off with a prostitute named Cassandra.”

“Cassandra Parsons?” demands White Cloud.

I shake my head. “I don’t know her last name. I know this sounds crazy, but I’m pretty sure she’s some kind of witch.”

“Why do you say that?” White Cloud takes a seat, but doesn’t put down his rifle.

“She tried to curse me.” I show him my diamond necklace. “But this grew hot, and nothing happened to me. White Cloud, what is happening?”

Instead of answering my question, White Cloud begins speaking in Paiute to Clara. He gestures animatedly at me. Clara says something in return to him, gesturing out the window. They talk for several minutes.

“Rebecca, Virginia City is not safe for someone like you,” Clara addresses me. “I know you had a dream about Colonel Blair and feel obligated to save him. Perhaps you should take him to meet your sister? This would get you both to safety.”

I shake my head. “I would love to. However, my sister can’t be visited.”

“Colonel Blair is very rich,” she argues.

I take in a deep breath of air. “I’m from the future.  No train can take me there.”

They give me confused glances.

“I do not understand,” Clara says.

“Colonel Blair, Gabe, and Henry haunted me as ghosts, a hundred and forty years in the future. You were there, too. Gabe’s ghost asked for help, and I came here to save the four of you. I believe I have saved you, now I just have to keep Colonel Blair alive. If I can do that, I will save Gabe and Henry as well.”

White Cloud jumps to his feet, mumbling to himself in a language I haven’t heard before. He shakes his head before exclaiming in English, “I have been so blind! The Great Spirit has been immensely generous! I knew you were very special, Miss Harris; I just did not realize how special!”

The gunfire increases outside.

“We need to help Colonel Blair,” I say, worrying about having a conversation while there’s a battle going on.

“Colonel Blair can take care of himself in a shootout.  It is you who needs protection,” says White Cloud. “My sight has cleared! There is a reason the Cursed are hunting tonight!  Cassandra Parsons has added interest in eliminating you from the equation.  I would not be surprised if she sees you as a barrier to the Blair fortune.”

“Whoa, back up.” I shake my head, wondering if I seriously hurt my brain when the rock hit me. “Are you saying that a prostitute made that zombie?”

“That is precisely what I am saying, Rebecca Harris from the future.”

Touché, my story is just as unbelievable as his. “Okay, so let’s assume Cassandra is making zombies. What happens when they disappear?”