He chuckled. “Might be the perfect opportunity to let everyone know we’re getting married.”
“I agree. Do you think your brother might want to stand up with you?”
“I do. I’ll wire him soon as we decide on a date. What about your sister?”
Eddy shook her head. “No. I don’t see her coming.”
“Still no response to your letter?”
“No.” And that made her sad because she’d love to see her nieces. She supposed she’d just have to keep hoping that Regan and Portia were okay.
“Well, let’s go ahead and make plans,” he said.
Eddy agreed and so they set a date for two weeks away.
On Sunday morning, Rhine discovered that vandals had thrown a foul mixture of black tar and paint over the front of the saloon and painted Tar Baby across the windows. Furious, he surveyed the damage.
“They must have come right after we closed up,” Jim said. “That paint will never come off the windows.”
They’d paid hundreds of dollars for the big windows lettered with fancy gold scrip, and now an equal amount of money would be needed to replace them. A furious Rhine seethed, “Cowards.” They’d attacked him verbally and in print and now they’d honed in on his livelihood. What would be next? People driving by slowed to get a good look at the damage. One or two applauded, but upon receiving the hard glares from the owners they moved along.
“We’re going to need Zeke’s help to replace the windows,” Jim said.
“I know.” And Rhine wasn’t looking forward to meeting with him. This would be their first interaction since the night of the music concert, and from what he’d learned from Eddy, Zeke still had a bone stuck in his craw. There were other carpenters in town, but considering how some of the Whites were responding to the change in Rhine’s racial status there was no guarantee they’d take the job. If Zeke turned him down, too, the search would have to be expanded to Reno or Silver City.
He knocked on the door of Zeke’s room a short while later. When it opened, Zeke eyed him warily. “What can I do for you, Rhine?”
“Need to hire you to replace the windows of the saloon. They were vandalized this morning.”
Zeke smirked. “Folks not happy with you claiming to be Colored all of a sudden?”
Rhine hadn’t come for a pissing match. “Will you take the job or not?”
“Let me look at it first and I’ll let you know.” He was quiet for a minute and then asked, “So are you really Colored?”
“I am.”
“Why change races now? You had life by the tail. Wealth, respect, and all the privileges that go with it.”
Rhine decided he might as well know. “So I can marry Eddy.”
Zeke froze.
“To have her, it was an easy choice.”
Zeke looked him up and down. Tight-lipped, he said, “I’ll come by the saloon in a little while.” He closed the door.
Word spread quickly about the vandalism, and while Rhine and Jim waited for Zeke to arrive, members of the community showed up with brushes and buckets. Thanks to a tip from Doc Randolph, they used rubbing alcohol to soften the tar. Turpentine was employed to clean off the splashes of paint, but it was hard, painstaking work.
Late that afternoon, with as much of the damage removed as could be done for the day, Rhine and Jim were thanking everyone for their help when Zeke finally walked up. He assessed the damage. “They got you pretty good.”
Rhine didn’t respond. Unlike Zeke, he found no humor in the cowardly act.
“I’ll take the job. Going to cost you a pretty penny though—especially if you want the glass fancied up like it was before.”
“I do,” Rhine said.
“Okay. I’ll get the glass ordered and let you know when it comes in.”