8. Questions #2
Kizzy shivered once, then tumbled down to fill Clem’s waiting arms with a soft, warm weight. “There’s a fallen branch lying over there.” She pointed. “We can use it to pound on the ground, let all the varmints in the neighborhood know we’re bigger and they better skedaddle.”
“Good idea,” agreed Clem, setting her down. “You’re quite smart, you know?”
Kizzy’s eyes grew large. “Thank you.”
Turning to lead the way toward the sound of moving water, Clem thumped the ground with the heavy branch. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that before?”
“No. Never. I would have remembered.”
“Does it surprise you?”
“That I’m intelligent?” An impish smile made her dimple deepen. “People have said a lot of things about me, but it’s never my brain they gossip about. I know I’m smart, what surprises me is you know it.”
“It shouldn’t. Ever since last night, you’re all I think about.
” An image of Kizzy’s breasts rose to mind, making her blush while her heart skipped a beat.
Clem parted tall grasses and wildflowers to reveal a stream meandering by, dancing over rocks worn round by years of slow tumbling downstream.
A large, flat boulder forced the water to go around, and that’s where they sat.
Kizzy had her shoes and stockings off within a minute, sighing as her feet dangled in cool water.
“Oh, this is heaven.” Her eyes twinkled, lit by dappled sunlight under the shade of thick leaves.
She rinsed her handkerchief clean in the running water, wiping perspiration from exposed skin on arms, neck, and face.
Clem used wet sand to scrub her hands, then scooped water and held it for Kizzy to drink.
The sight of her bent head with its braid, and the feel of soft lips sipping from her hand, lit an inner fire.
She did it again, watching water droplets glisten on Kizzy’s lips before quenching her own thirst. “I wish we had more time.” She checked her watch and then tucked it back into her vest pocket.
“Um, listen,” she said, “there is something else we should discuss before we get married.”
“I have something, too.” Golden highlights in her hair shimmered as Kizzy turned to her, smiling eyes clear. “You start.”
“Okay, yes.” Clem ran a hand through her hair. “Well, first off I probably ought to tell you I’ve got money.”
“You said you struck it rich in California.” Kizzy squealed. “You really do know what you’re doing! You can show me how.”
“I do, I can, and I will, but most of my money I inherited from my father. I grew up pampered and spoiled, as he often reminded me.” Clem removed her hat and poured a handful of water over her head, taking a moment to work it through her hair to cool her scalp.
“I can’t complain. He worked hard and built a successful, thriving newspaper from the ground up. Then he sold it out from under me on his deathbed, but left me the proceeds and a fifteen percent interest.”
Kizzy gazed at her in silence for a moment before asking, “Did he ever see you like this?”
“No, not in person. I did send a letter with a daguerreotype. In it I explained what I did, how I live, why I do it, and confessed my pen name. My image was in his wallet, well-worn and tattered.” She sighed and then looked up with delighted eyes.
“But he would have loved you, Kizzy. Tom Dennison admired clever, beautiful women. Dad was fascinated by entertaining word play; he’d have been thrilled to match wits with an elegant lady on his level.
” She shrugged. “He tried to make me that type of woman, which didn’t happen.
” She closed her eyes. “He might have loved me, but he never knew me.” She opened them and looked at Kizzy.
“My father sold a thriving paper to fund his daughter’s inheritance.
He meant it as a dowry to attract a husband.
” She snorted. “Jim Burdock, my attorney, deposited the money in a Boston bank for me under the name Clem Dennison, and I’m carrying a letter of transfer to my Bank in California.
We don’t need to search for gold if we don’t want to.
We have enough money to last quite a while. ”
As she splashed her bare feet in the creek, Kizzy looked at her, eyes curious. “Why did you tell Mr. Burdock your secret, and why do you trust him to keep it?”
“I didn’t have to tell him; my father already had but I didn’t know that.
I marched into his office, introduced myself as Clem Dennison, Tom’s only child, and son, then tried to bluster my way through.
Dressed in his clothes, I looked so much like my father his law clerk fainted thinking I was his ghost.” She snorted, rubbing her eyes.
“In his will, my father left everything to his only heir and daughter, Clementine Lorelei Dennison. It took poor Henry another moment to wrap his head around a woman passing as a man.” She chuckled.
“Jim Burdock was my father’s close friend.
When they drew up his will, Dad showed him the letter I wrote about how I live.
He believed Jim would understand because of his own personal situation.
I didn’t know what that meant until Burdock invited me home for dinner and introduced me to his lover, a beautiful young man named Antony, who prefers to go by An.
” She smiled. “An’s the one who created the calling cards for me.
It amused him to come up with preposterous names for me.
His favorite was Clem Carbuncle because, he said, I was a pain in my father’s ass. ”
Clem watched Kizzy's cute toes wiggle. “Jim and An asked me many questions about why I pass, how it works, what I gain from the experience; they were almost as curious as you are. I would not be surprised if Mr. Burdock moved out west himself one day, where people take you at your word and you can write your own story. I’ll bet he brings a beautiful lady wife named Antonia.” She shrugged, laughed, and then shook her head, smiling.
“That reminds me.” She made a mental note. “I must send him a wire before we leave town.” She would have a beneficiary after tonight.
“We’ve got plenty of money for the trip. I’m carrying more than enough, which I will hide in several strategic locations throughout the wagon.” Clem reached over and took Kizzy’s hand. “I hired my father’s attorney on retainer. If we need it, Jim will send money.”
“We won’t need it,” Kizzy said with charming confidence. “With your skills, my determination, and this.” She patted the waist of her dress.
“Your stomach?”
“No, I’ve got a bag pinned to my bloomers with seven hundred and eighteen dollars of my own to help get us started. From that we can build a new fortune.” A line of worry crossed her forehead. “Do they have banks out west?”
“The bankers were only a half-step behind the miners,” Clem laughed. “There are plenty of banks with plenty of guards.” She wrapped an arm around Kizzy’s waist and leaned in close. “I’ll help you protect your valuables,” she said, pulling her closer until they sat side by side.
“My money, or the other valuables in my bloomers?” Kizzy wriggled even closer.
Clem grinned and nodded. “Those you can use to start our family.”
Kizzy froze. “Our family?” She looked at Clem sideways. “As in…babies?” She shook her head.
“Family,” Clem insisted as she took her fiancée’s chin between her fingers and kissed her.
“We will live as husband and wife, which is a family with or without children. You will be Kizzy Dennison, the beautiful, clever, sassy wife of Clem Dennison, writer, and gold prospector of modest means from Boston.” She kissed her again, pressing more insistently.
“A family of my own.” Kizzy’s voice held a hint of wonder. “I thought, being me, I’d never have one, or a husband either.” She raised both eyebrows.
I know. Me, either. Clem gazed toward the sky.
“What questions do you have for me?” Clem took a breath, steadying herself. Whatever Kizzy wanted to know, she’d tell the truth.
“We’ve talked about almost everything. I only have one question left, but it’s the biggest.” Kizzy fell quiet, her face flushing red. She sat up straight and looked Clem in the eye.
“Do your fists fly when you get angry or drunk? Will you ever strike, or try to beat me? Because with God as my witness, I will kill you in your sleep if you ever take a violent hand to me.” She spoke with calm determination. “Maybe not right then, but as soon as I’m able, and that is a promise.”
“Oh, Kizzy.” Clem’s heart clenched at the shadowed fear peeking from behind her eyes. What had she suffered to ask a question like that? “I promise you; I will never try to hurt you. I’ve never struck a woman in anger, and I can’t imagine ever doing so.”
She sighed. “But, to be honest, I have gotten into fights when I’m angry, and sometimes when I’m drunk. Most times I win, but sometimes,” she smiled and pointed at a space where a tooth was missing, “I lose.”
A tormented voice broke from Kizzy. “My father beats my mother sometimes. Not often, but when he does she cries all night and won’t show her face for a week.
I hate him.” Kizzy’s chin almost quivered, but she lifted it.
“He used to beat me with a belt, too, but stopped when I grew taller than him at fifteen.”
“Does your mother ever hit him back?” Softening her voice, Clem asked, “Did you?”
“What?” Kizzy looked up, surprise lighting her face. “Of course not.” The dawning of an idea shone on her face.
Clem nodded, eyes fierce. “I’ll teach you to fight so if anyone raises a hand against you, you’ll be able to defend yourself and give as good as you get.”
“You’ll do that?” A shy grin appeared at the corner of Kizzy’s mouth.
“Damn straight, and we’ll get you a proper gun, too, besides that little pistol you showed me last night.” Clem took her hand. “I promise, you will never again feel as vulnerable as you do right now. You’ll be able to protect yourself as well as I can, and I’ll always have your back.”