Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
The mist was ushering in another fine morning as Effie stepped to her room’s only window. Staring off due east, she could see that the sky was still navy blue, a sign that she had awakened long before the others were to arise. Unbidden, her thoughts turned to him, the boy from her youth.
Where was he? And why was he etched so deeply in her mind?
Effie had spent a sleepless night. Not due to the boy, but rather because of the previous evening’s “guest.” Alas, she had barely closed her eyes.
Tired though she was, sleeplessness wasn’t the worst of her troubles. Effie was worried about the turn of events. She could no longer leave the artifacts in her room. Locked or not, this hotel was not now the safe haven she had once thought it to be.
Briefly, she considered her options. She could carry them in her purse or she could even purchase a safety deposit box.
On this last thought, she frowned. No, she couldn’t put them in a deposit box.
A bank might be too easily robbed, particularly in an out-of-the-way mining town like Virginia City.
Plus, there was an additional difficulty: She would require these artifacts to be at hand as soon as the digging commenced.
If their excavation did uncover the other two nuggets, only as a complete set of four could they be presented to the Lost Clan.
But surely there was something else she could do to protect the golden valuables.
“I could ask Madeline or Carl to keep them for me,” she mumbled to herself. “Or perhaps Lesley might be willing to hold them in trust.”
No. In reality, Effie wasn’t certain she could trust Lesley or even any of the others in her group.
She immediately pulled up on that thought.
What a terrible thing to believe. After all, out of the many different kinds of people in this town, her crew was probably the most trustworthy.
“And yet…” She paused.
It was that uncertainty that made Effie hesitate to include the others in her confidence.
True, everyone in her party had already seen the artifacts.
It had been necessary to show them to her crew so each would know what the nuggets looked like.
Indeed, identification without a good representation of what needed identifying was almost impossible.
But this had taken place while they were back East. It was her understanding that Madeline and Carl Bell thought that Effie still held the valuables there.
Only Lesley, and perhaps her husband, knew the entire story of the legend, and only they were aware that all four artifacts were required to be present together, otherwise…
“You don’t suppose…?”
No, that was another rather unpleasant thought.
Still, Effie couldn’t shake the rather startling idea, and she wondered, could Lesley be the one who was trying to steal the artifacts? Had she sent her husband to do her dirty work? Was it he who had broken into her room?
Effie frowned. It could be.
It was certainly true that Lesley liked the finer things in life, and the nuggets would fetch a handsome dollar.
“No, it can’t be,” Effie whispered to herself.
Hadn’t she known Lesley all her life? Though Lesley might be more than a little spoiled, and mayhap a bit frivolous, Effie could not envision the other girl as a thief.
But if not Lesley, then who?
Perhaps Lesley or her husband had let slip to someone that Effie carried the precious nuggets. Had some conversation between the two of them been overheard?
If that were the case, then the thief could be anybody.
It was all rather confusing. For a moment, Effie wondered if her father had realized what dangers would follow in the wake of the artifacts leaving their secure place back East. Had he realized that if his daughter carried them on her person…?
Wait! On her person.
Surely that might present a solution. Could she not carry them? Hidden in her effects?
After all, the stones themselves weren’t terribly heavy, weighing about two pounds apiece. She could place them each into a satchel and hang them from around her waist by a string, perhaps one on either side of her hips. No doubt her very full skirts would hide them.
But was there a drawback to doing so? Effie tried to envision a scenario where the artifacts, if tied to her person, might be insecure. There was only one possibility she could foresee.
Once on location, she would be forced to bathe in a river or stream. It would be then, and perhaps only then, that she would be required to set the stones aside.
Or would she? Could she possibly arrange it so that, even then, the artifacts remained with her at all times?
Suddenly it came to her, and gasping aloud, she snapped her fingers. That was it. It would be perfect.
Her bathing suit would be her solution, since it was full enough to hide the valuables. But could she wash those secret places on her body and remain clothed at the same time?
She would have to conduct a test of it, bathe in a stream and see if it were possible. If it were, her problem would be solved.
Effie quickly stepped to her vanity and rummaged through the drawer until she found a needle, thread and some sturdy material. Next she scooted the vanity chair toward the window, where she could gaze outside with ease. She sat down, preparing to sew together two satchels, one for each rock.
It wasn’t long, however, before the fog swirled in through the open window and into her room. A short time after, memories of the past swept to the fore of her mind, prompting her to recall another place and time.
Where was he?
It was odd how much her new guide, Mr. Hawk, reminded her of the boy from her past. Maybe it was because both tended to be clumsy. Was that why the man seemed so familiar?
On that thought, she frowned.
Virginia City was a gold mining town, having been quickly established at the end of the Bozeman Trail for this specific purpose. It sat in the grasslands of the friendly Crow Indians, thus making raids by the natives few.
On any given day, from a venue on a hill outside the city, one was presented with perhaps the most chaotic sight in all the territory.
Men, six thousand or more of them, were crowded into the gulch where gold had been discovered.
There these men dug, fought, cursed, drank, pushed and shoved.
Teams and wagons stood knee-deep in mud, and the road was almost impassible.
Tents were everywhere, but there was a sawmill here, as well, a little farther downstream, with its smoke and horrible noise adding pollution to the already turbulent nature of the place.
The din was almost unbearable, for the buzz of those saws was continuous. Add to this the clamor from more than six thousand men, and the effect was deafening.
But there was another aspect of the city that few had ever taken the time to discover. Located in the heart of the plains, and skirted by grass-covered hills, Virginia City also spawned places where one could sit and think.
On the other side of town, over a few hills, one might discover a quiet stream, a place where the water ran deep, and where the brook babbled its way eastward.
Alongside that stream grew several scarce cottonwood trees, as well as one immense willow whose roots were well embedded in the soil.
The rocks in the stream were slick, and the water was swift, but cool and refreshing.
Effie had discovered the place soon after arrival and had promised herself to come back often, if only to get away from the hubbub of the town. But to date, she had not had a chance to return until this morning. Now she came to test her skill in bathing fully clothed.
Certain she had awakened before anyone else in the town was about, Effie finished her sewing and tied the artifacts to the top of her bloomers.
Next, she donned her red-plaid bathing suit and slipped on her cloak.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she decided to leave her hair down, since she intended to wash it while at the stream.
Pushing a heavy part of her bangs out of the way, she let the gentle curls of her hair cascade down her back.
The morning was still wet with dew as she stepped away from the hotel and plodded over grass and mud. There was also a chill in the air. Determined as she was to keep the artifacts safe, she barely noticed the discomfort.
The mining hadn’t started yet, and the songs of the larks, the thrushes, the sparrows, even the doves, filled an otherwise quiet early morning.
There was no well-worn path leading to the spot, and Effie soon became glad she had decided to wear boots, for once away from the township, the grasses began to grow taller.
At last, the cottonwood trees came into view, and with a few more lumbering steps, she arrived at her destination. Striding right up to the water, she took a moment to listen and simply soak up the peace of the place.
The stream gurgled and murmured on its way to some unknown destination, the sound soothing to her troubled nerves.
Inhaling deeply of the moist, pure air, she relaxed, and it wasn’t long before she threw off her cloak.
Instantly, the red flannel of her bathing dress caught in the wind.
She hugged her bosom, realizing that the breeze felt good.
She glimpsed sight of her reflection in the stream.
What a spectacle she was. The trousers of her ensemble resembled knickerbockers, over which she had donned a shorter, though full dress, one that reached just below her knees.
Though the outfit came complete with belt and matching hat, making Effie the picture of a postwar modern girl, she felt uncomfortable.
Oh, to be able to throw it all off and slip into the pool with nothing between her skin and the water. The urge was almost overbearing. But it could not be. She was an adult now, not a child.