Chapter Fifteen
Caliope
Despite our enthusiastic coupling, I barely noticed my injury on waking in the morning, which was very promising as I needed to pass inspection by Miss June before I was ‘permitted’ to ride out.
Problem was, if she tried to forbid me and told me I needed to stay at The Angel for another day, I’d have to tell her that, with all due respect—and I had a lot of respect for Miss June—I wasn’t prepared to sit on my ass again while Oscar and Trick went out together.
It didn’t come to that.
After we got some breakfast—in the kitchen this time—Miss June gave the stitches a look o’er and declared me fit to ride. I was so happy that I hugged her.
“I know it’s been a rough few days, Jimmy, but you’ve been a good patient.”
“Thank you for the excellent care, Miss June.”
“Now, you promise to rest when you can, although the wound is healing up real nice. I’ll take the stitches out next week.”
Now that I was well enough to go, I half expected Miss June to keep Trick back. But Trick was waiting for us in the stables in her boots and trousers and shirt, just the same.
“Well, well, well,” I said, looking her over. “I get to ride out with the infamous Trick, do I?”
“Infamous? What does that mean?” Oscar said, and I reckoned Trick wanted to know, as well, since she looked at me with curiosity.
“It means she’s known for committing some questionable and immoral acts,” I said, wagging my eyebrows.
Trick grinned and nodded. “Yes, sir. That’s me, all right.” She touched the brim of her hat and took a bow.
Oscar doubled o’er laughing.
“That really what it means, Jimmy?”
“Well, usually ’tis referrin’ to violence or some such thing. But I suppose there’s a few people would think what Trick gets up to with her clients was plenty wicked.”
Trick gave me a wink. “I reckon you don’t know the half of it.”
Oscar’s eyes bugged out of his head.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“It means, Jimmy Downing, that I got me a trunk of treasures upstairs that would blow your damn mind.”
“Fuck,” Oscar exclaimed. “Like what?”
“Well, now, that’s my secret. If you ask nice, I could show you sometime.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Christ. That’s all he needs.”
Trick glanced at me as she adjusted the length of her stirrup and patted her horse’s brown neck. “Oh, there’s some things in there for you, too, Jimmy, that I reckon you’ll find to be very, very interestin’.” She cocked her head, gazing at Oscar with contemplation. “And practical.”
My cheeks flushed. I wondered what she had in that treasure chest. But ’twas no matter at the moment, because we needed to go.
“Where did you get another horse?”
“This is Juniper, Gus’s mustang mare. I’ve ridden her before, on occasion. She’s a tough old girl, but I can manage her.”
As we rode out of the stables, clouds had gathered, and it looked like we might get some rain.
But after a little while, the sun broke through and shone its warmth down on us.
I was glad that riding didn’t seem to strain my injury.
’Twas nice to be outside and with Oscar and Trick, riding through the countryside with the mountains looming on all sides.
We were used to feeling small in the wilderness of northern BC, and in some ways, those mountains made me feel safe and protected.
The town of Agnes Hill was about nine miles south of Telegraph Creek. ’Twas a little village on the edge of where the creek widened and became a more significant waterway. ’Twas a charming place, about the same size as Port Essington and on the water, so it made me ache for home.
“Do you think Cal lives in the town? Or maybe has a place nearby?” I asked.
“The fella we spoke to said she was dressed like a farm wife, so I figure she lives out in the country nearby,” Oscar said.
“That’s right. Although we can perhaps ask some of the folks in town if they’ve seen her. And that’s assuming it is the right person.”
We tethered the horses outside the mercantile and spent the better part of an hour on foot, asking anyone we came in contact with if they’d seen or heard of a person named Cal who lived anywhere close.
Nobody that we spoke to had heard of or seen her, so in the end we decided to head out in one direction and start visiting the local homesteads.
The farms were scattered about, none within easy sight of one another.
We only managed to cover a small area that first day and went back to The Angel with no new leads.
The following two days passed in a similar fashion with no progress.
’Twas disheartening and exhausting, but, on the bright side, I was with my husband and his very entertaining friend.
Trick turned out to be a highly amusing companion.
Her off-color remarks and ribald statements made the time pass quickly, and she had us in absolute stitches on more than one occasion.
At the end of that first day, my wound was aching a bit, but by the third day, it seemed to stop complaining, and my muscles were getting used to strenuous activity again.
Miss June said she would take out the stitches on Sunday, when we’d promised to take a break from our searching, whether we’d found Cal or not.
’Twas while I was waiting outside the saloon in Agnes Hill for Trick and Oscar, enjoying the morning sunshine on my third afternoon out, when I saw a tall woman in a rough brown skirt and a flowery blouse, with a wide hat pulled low o’er her eyes, walking toward the dry goods store, that something made me take notice.
I don’t know if ’twas the body type or the gait, but something screamed out to me that this was Cal—or that it might be.
I quick left the stoop in front of the saloon and paced toward the woman.
When I got close enough, I tapped her on the shoulder.
She started for sure, but instead of stopping and addressing me, she tucked her head to her chest and walked faster, holding her skirts so I could see her black-buttoned shoes making dust in the dirt of the street.
“Cal?” I said.
The woman stopped then and waited, not looking my way, as if deciding whether to acknowledge my address.
“It’s Jimmy,” I said, in a kind voice, as she seemed a bit spooked and like she didn’t want no attention from anyone.
The woman straightened and squared her shoulders, tipped her hat back and turned.
I recognized Cal’s familiar face, with its shadow of stubble, though it seemed she’d tried to hide that with subtle face paint, and I couldn’t blame her. If she was hoping to pass as female to the general public, she needed to cover up some of the most obvious disparities.
“Cal! We been lookin’ all o’er for you!”
I moved toward her, but she took a step back and regarded me with distrust and a deep-seated wariness, so I stopped and stood there.
“Jimmy? Is it—? Is it you? Truly?” Cal’s voice quavered as she looked me up and down and squinted as if she were trying to see through some sort of fog. I held myself back, because the last thing I wanted was to scare her off. Sure, we used to be friends, but a lot of time had passed.
“In the flesh and all the way from Port Essington.” I smiled like that was no big deal. “Miss June is awful worried about you, Cal.”
“Is Oscar with you?”
“He’s in the saloon with Trick. We’re all out here lookin’ for you.”
“My goodness,” Cal said, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
She looked…well, not that good, if I were being honest. Her skin was pale and patchy, and the features of her face were gaunt, as if she wasn’t eating well.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She stared at me for a long moment, then smiled and said, “Sure, I am. Why?”
The smile didn’t reach her eyes. ’Twas a good act, but that’s what it was. Still, I wasn’t about to call her out about it. Not yet, anyway.
“Miss June says you left The Angel to get married. Did you? Get married, I mean?”
Cal glanced away, then quick as anything returned her gaze to mine and kept that stilted smile on her face. “Yes, sir, I did. I’m a married woman now.”
Her voice wobbled and her forehead creased. She was about to say something else when a whoop interrupted us and Trick burst upon the two of us like a rogue wave.
“Cal! Oh, Cal, ’tis you!” Trick yelled as she ran up to Cal and took her in a hearty hug, lifting her from the ground.
Cal made a noise of terror, and I put a hand to Trick’s arm.
“Careful there. You’ll spook her,” I said.
I didn’t know what was wrong with Cal—whether ’twas simply a need to be inconspicuous and we were calling all this attention, or whether ’twas something more worrying.
Oscar came up and hugged Cal next, and he was a mite gentler, and Cal seemed to relax and let him hold her for a brief moment before pulling gently away.
“I’m so glad we found you,” Oscar said.
“I’ve been busy, that’s all. My…husband keeps me very busy,” Cal said, her voice trembling and her gaze darting around.
“Oh, I see,” Oscar said with an implied meaning, and Trick said, “My, my, my, does he?”
Cal huffed a nervous laugh. “Well, yes, he does. He’s…he’s a beast between the sheets.”
Trick and Oscar laughed, and I smiled. But there was something not right here, and I aimed to figure it out.
“Where are you livin’ now?” I asked.
Cal shrugged. “Oh, out of town a ways…on Albert’s farm. We’ve got twenty acres. And fruit trees. And the house is lovely, so big. Takes my breath away every time I see it!”
“Really?” Oscar said. “We got a house now, too, Jimmy and me. In Port Essington.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Yep. My uncle had passed, but he’d left his land, and we built a house on it—with a sitting room and two bedrooms.”
I glowed at how proud Oscar sounded of the house we’d built with help from our friends. I missed it with a fierceness that surprised me.
“How come you ain’t been to see Miss June, Cal? She said you promised to go see her and let her know how you was gettin’ on,” I asked, giving Cal what I hoped was a look of expectation.