Horse With No Name (21 page)

Read Horse With No Name Online

Authors: Alexandra Amor

Tags: #mystery, #amateur sleuth, #historical mystery, #woman detective, #canada history, #british columbia mystery, #mystery 19th century, #detective crime fiction, #detective female sleuth

BOOK: Horse With No Name
9.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Twenty-six

Julia woke to the sound
of shouting. Her head jerked off her pillow, and she sat in the
dark, confused for several seconds, not sure where she was. She had
been dreaming of home, of her parents. Her mind slowly caught up
and she remembered that she was in her new bedroom in Horse. She
could still smell the scent of her father's tobacco.

The shouting was outside.

She got up, wrapped the blanket from her bed
around her shoulders, and went to the front room. Pulling the
curtain aside, she looked out and saw two men running past on the
street, lanterns in their hands. Something was wrong.

Julia got dressed as quickly as she could,
pulling on an old cotton dress she used when she was cleaning,
forgoing her corset and covering herself up with her thick wool
coat. She pulled on her riding boots, which were close at hand, and
left her hair hanging loosely down her back.

Closing her front door behind her, she ran
out onto the street. As soon as she was halfway down her front
walk, she could smell it.

Fire.

 

To a small town in an outback place there is
nothing as terrifying as fire. The weather could be dealt with in
many ways; it was possible to hunker down in snowstorms and slog
through the muddy streets during the rains. The heat of the summer
could be managed with shade and liquids. Horse was fortunate to be
situated right beside a lake, which provided transportation, as
well as drinking and washing water.

But fire was the one element that struck
terror into every citizen's heart. It had the potential to sweep
through a place, turning it to ash before almost anything could be
done. It was like a beast that could not be fought back, ravenous
and raging. Just four years earlier, many lives had been lost and
countless buildings destroyed in Vancouver, when city workers lost
control of a brush fire.

Julia ran toward the orange glow that lit up
the night. The smell of burning wood filled her nostrils. As she
got closer she could hear the wood crackling, like a giant camp
fire. She ran to the end of her street and turned left, huddled in
her coat. She could hear shouting over the noise of the burn; men's
voices, frantic and loud.

It was James Hunter's house, she realized as
she got close. The roof was ablaze and fire and smoke were pouring
out of the front windows. A chain of men was using buckets and
anything else handy to pull water from the lake and douse the
flames. Julia immediately saw they wouldn't be able to save the
house. Their objective now would be to prevent the fire from
spreading. On one side of Hunter's home was an empty lot, which was
a saving grace. On the other was the Carson family home.

Mrs. Carson and her two small boys were
standing in their front yard, watching in horror.

Julia saw Merrick, Walt, Christopher Mitchell
and Pastor Thoreson all in the bucket chain, faces fierce with
concentration.

A voice came from behind her. "Where's Mr.
Hunter?" It was Betty.

Julia turned and wrapped one of her arms
around her friend. "Is he in the chain?"

They both looked down the line but couldn't
see the home owner.

"He's not inside, is he?" Betty voiced
Julia's thought.

The two women looked around at the crowd of
women that was gathered. Every available man was pitching in.

Julia broke away from Betty and approached
Mrs. Carson, raising her voice over the crackling of the fire.
"Have you seen Mr. Hunter?"

The woman shook her head and pulled one of
her boys closer to her.

Frantic now, Julia and Betty walked down the
chain of water-bearers, staring into every face. When they reached
the lake, they turned to one another, bleakness in their eyes.

"Come on." Julia grabbed Betty's hand and
they ran back to near the top of the chain. Merrick and Walt were
beside one another shifting buckets and pots, anything that would
hold water, up the line toward the house.

"Have you seen Hunter?" Julia continued to
hold Betty's hand.

Merrick shook his head and grabbed a bucket
with a rope handle being passed to him. "No," he said. "Have
you?"

"No."

The crackling of the fire got louder. The
heat coming off it reached all the way back to where Julia and
Betty stood. There was a crash from the house, and a plume of
sparks rose up in the dark sky, disappearing almost as soon as
Julia turned her head at the noise.

"Get back, will you?" Merrick asked. He was
curt with them, but then added, "Please."

Julia and Betty curled into one another and
moved away from the chain, Julia's eyes fruitlessly scanning the
orange dark all around them.

It was then that she spotted Hunter. He was
standing two houses away, leaning against a fence, a hopeless
expression on his face. He was wearing a long nightshirt that
almost reached his ankles, and nothing else. His feet were
bare.

Julia squeezed Betty's hand and pointed. They
both began to run to where Hunter stood. Julia's gaze was caught
momentarily when the bright orange light from the fire showed
Hunter in silhouette in his nightshirt. She unbuttoned her coat as
she ran and pulled her arms out of the sleeves. When she reached
Hunter she threw the coat around him, pulling it tight.

"Mr. Hunter, you should come with us."

The man turned to Julia but his eyes were
glassy. She wasn't sure he recognized her.

"James? It's Betty Mitchell and Julia Thom.
We're going to take you away from this. Come on. There's no need to
watch."

Together Betty and Julia slowly turned Hunter
and began to walk with him, their backs to the blaze. Hunter crept
along, his bare feet seemingly oblivious to the cold.

Twenty-seven

Julia's house was
closest so she and Betty guided Hunter there. They settled Hunter
on the settee, and Julia ran to grab a blanket off her bed. Hunter
kept the coat wrapped around his shoulders, and though it was a
comfortable temperature in the house, he shivered.

"Betty could you stoke the fire, please?"

Betty nodded and got a little blaze going in
the pot-bellied parlor stove. Julia encouraged Hunter to ease back
on the couch. She put a towel down for his feet, which were icy to
the touch, and wrapped the ends of the towel around them.

When the fire was going, Julia got the kettle
from the kitchen and brought it out to the parlor stove. She set it
down on top and went to retrieve cups and the teapot from the
kitchen.

Betty and Julia fussed over Hunter and the
tea, the activity bringing comfort. When they finally settled, each
into a chair, Hunter spoke for the first time.

"Do you think anyone else saw?" He looked at
Julia.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, "It's
possible."

Betty looked back and forth from Hunter to
Julia. "Saw what?" she asked.

Hunter was quiet, staring into the middle
distance without seeing.

Julia finally spoke up. "Do you want to tell
her, Mr. Hunter?"

The man ran his tongue around his lips, still
not looking at either of the women. Julia and Betty waited, both
ignoring their tea.

Finally Hunter looked over at Julia. "How
long have you known?"

"I had an inkling yesterday." She looked at
Betty. "After our impromptu visit to Dr. Parker's."

Betty furrowed her brow, more confused than
ever.

Hunter nodded, thinking. Then he looked over
at Betty Mitchell and stood up. The blanket around his shoulders
fell away. He took hold of Julia's coat, where it lay across his
shoulders and pulled that off as well.

Betty turned her face away from the figure
that now was housed in just a thin nightshirt.

Hunter's voice changed slightly, "Look, Mrs.
Mitchell." Hunter pulled the nightshirt away from his sides so that
it clung to his body across the front.

"Mr. Hunter," Betty said, looking away from
him and wild-eyed at Julia, "please cover yourself."

Hunter sighed and continued holding his night
shirt tight against his chest. "Please."

Betty's head snapped up at the change in
tenor of Hunter's voice. She looked over finally and saw what
Hunter was showing her. Where a man's smooth chest should be, the
points of two small breasts could clearly be seen through the thin
cotton night shirt.

"You might as well call me Evelyn," she
said.

***

"Have some tea." Julia motioned for
Hunter/Evelyn to sit down. "And perhaps you'd like to unburden
yourself to us."

Evelyn left the coat where it lay on the
couch but pulled the blanket around herself and sat down. She took
a sip of tea and then left the cup in its saucer while she told her
story.

"I never felt at home in my body. It's really
that simple. I never felt like 'me'. For the longest time I assumed
everyone felt that way. But also," she stopped, looking down at her
hands, "I knew something was wrong."

She had grown up the daughter of a watchmaker
in what was then called Granville, now Vancouver. She had three
brothers and a sister. It was the sister she finally confided in
during a moment of vulnerability before her sister's wedding.

"It was the night before the wedding and we
were excited and nervous, of course. It was to be our last night
sleeping in our room at home. After the wedding she and her husband
were moving to Victoria. I shared how I felt with her. I asked her
if she felt at home in her body. She said yes and looked at me like
I was crazy."

Julia could see the pain in Evelyn’s
face.

"I pressed on. I had to know how she felt. I
had to find out before she was gone what her experience was like.
She was horrified at my questions. She kept asking me to stop. But
I couldn't once I'd started. Seventeen years of wondering what was
wrong with me and waiting to feel...." She thought for a moment.
"At peace."

But her sister hadn't been able to grasp what
Evelyn was telling her. They argued and then Jane ended up sleeping
in the living room for the rest of the night, uncomfortable with
the conversation.

"She didn't look at me all the next day,"
Evelyn said. "And she left on her honeymoon without saying
goodbye."

A few tears leaked out of Evelyn's eyes.
Julia went to her bedroom and found a clean handkerchief and
brought it back to the living room. She handed it to her guest.
Evelyn took a huge breath and then let it out.

"So I left. I had some money saved up from
working in my father's shop - he's a watchmaker, too. I bought a
suit in secret. I told the shopkeeper it was for my husband." A
rueful laugh. "And I made my way up here. Dressed as a man."

"But how... I don't understand. How did no
one know?" Betty was leaning forward in her chair, fascinated and
also horrified, though Julia could see she was trying to hide that
part of her feelings.

Evelyn gave Betty a small, pursed smile. "Did
you know?"

"I can't... I don't..." Betty sat up a little
straighter, her hands clasped in her lap. She looked away for a
moment, thinking and then looked back at Evelyn. "No. I didn't. How
is that possible? It's so obvious now. Your smooth skin. Your small
frame..." she trailed off.

"I've thought about this quite a bit, of
course," Evelyn explained. "And I think the one conclusion I've
reached is that people very often accept what we present to them.
If you say you're a man, then people don't think about it too
much."

Julia had been listening quietly through all
this and reflected that this was certainly true for her. She had
even been physically close to Evelyn when she and Merrick had
helped him/her to Dr. Parker's office after the beating, and still
she hadn't realized she was touching a woman. Her brain had been
programmed to experience Evelyn as a man.

"Although," Evelyn continued, "sometimes
people do catch on. I had a few very scary encounters in Vancouver
before I moved up here." She looked over at Julia. "That's why I
carry that little pistol with me. I've never fired it before that
night at the dance. But it did come in handy a couple of times in
the city. Waving it around would encourage those who were bothering
me to leave me alone."

Betty's brow furrowed. "Are you more at peace
living as a man?"

Evelyn nodded but it was a tiny gesture.
"Yes. In many ways. It's odd because when I was living as a woman,
a girl, I always felt like I was hiding something. Like I had a
secret. Now that I'm..." she made a little motion with her hands,
searching for a word, "presenting myself as a man, that feeling of
secrecy has gone away. But it's been replaced by another kind of
secrecy. Now I really do have something to hide. If people found
out..." She let the end of the sentence linger.

Julia finally spoke. "I think someone
has."

Evelyn nodded again. "I agree. Someone knows.
That's why the beating. And the fire."

While they had been talking, the reason for
their gathering faded into the background. At the mention of the
fire, all three women were gripped once again by anxiety about what
might be going on outside.

More as a way to keep their mind off this
than a means to pry, Julia said, "Tell us about Lily Cecil."

"Ah yes. Lily. Well. She knows for sure."
Evelyn settled back into the settee a bit, relaxing now that she
had nothing to hide. "We went to school together."

"Small world," Julia said.

"Indeed. I specifically moved to Horse
because it's far from anywhere and I thought I could live here in
anonymity, hopefully for many years. But wouldn't you know it? I've
only been here nine months and who do I bump into but a school
chum, Lily Crewes. That's her maiden name."

"Did she recognize you right away?" Betty
sipped her tea absently.

"On some level I think she did. She came into
the shop one day looking for a second-hand watch for her husband's
birthday. I knew instantly who she was, of course, but I kept quiet
and hoped she wouldn't place me." Evelyn looked through the
louvered door of the stove, watching the flames, remembering. "I
could see it was confusing for her. She was being presented with a
man's voice and body and attitude, but behind that I'm assuming she
could see and remember me."

Other books

1634: The Baltic War by Eric Flint, David Weber
Dark Beach by Ash, Lauren
Nine Years Gone by Chris Culver
Stranded by Val McDermid
The Last Hieroglyph by Clark Ashton Smith
A Fortune's Children's Christmas by Lisa Jackson, Linda Turner, Barbara Boswell
B00AY88OHE EBOK by Stevens, Henry