“I was doing fine on the journey until I ran into Nash—which I doubt is his true name.”
“Whatever his name, the authorities will find him.”
“I hope so. He had a little boy with him. He said he was taking the boy to an orphanage but I don’t know if that was the truth or not.”
“I’ll let the sheriff know about the boy.”
“Thank you.”
Although they weren’t talking about weighty matters, Eddy was enjoying their conversation. Her initial fears about whether she’d be safe with him were all but dissolved but the need to leave was still keen. Memories of last night’s interaction returned, bringing with it the sensation of how time seemed to stand still while looking into his eyes, but it wasn’t something she needed to be thinking about. A quick glance his way found him viewing her so intently she was caught yet again. Breaking the contact so she could breathe, she asked, “How long have you lived in Virginia City?”
“Since ’sixty-six. Came west after the war.”
“Where’s your home?”
“Georgia.”
“Do you have family there?”
“Not anymore. I have a brother in San Francisco, and I lost track of my sister during the war. My parents are dead.”
“My condolences.”
He nodded.
She knew that many families had been torn apart during the war. Back in Denver she’d worked at the hotel with a man who’d spent two years walking across the South looking for his sold-away children and wife but never found them. “Is your sister younger or older?”
“Two years younger.” The smile in his eyes made her think he cared for her very much. Eddy wondered if he’d fought on the side of the Confederacy and if his family owned slaves. She didn’t ask. Such questioning was rude and he’d been incredibly kind to her. She didn’t want his reply to the slave owning question to be yes because it would undoubtedly change how she viewed him, kindness or not.
Silence rose, and as it lengthened, Eddy searched for something else to talk about, only to have him ask, “Do you have a hobby or a favorite pastime?”
“Yes. Sleeping,” she said with amusement.
“Sleeping?”
“I worked fourteen-hour days. I’d go home, grab a bite to eat, and go straight to bed because I had to get up before sunrise and do it all over again. There wasn’t time for pastimes or amusements.”
“I see.”
She tried not to be moved by the gentle understanding he exuded and failed. “When my parents died, my sister and I had no other family. People from the church took up a small collection and they brought us food and wood, but they had children of their own and couldn’t afford such generosity for very long, so I hired myself out.” She thought back on how achingly weary she’d been day after day during that first year and how scary life had been. Her hands had cracked and bled from all the lye, and her knees had fared no better from being on them constantly, but her skin had toughened up and so had she.
“It must have been hard.”
“It was. In many ways it still is, but if I don’t work, I don’t eat. It’s pretty simple if you think about it.”
He studied her silently for so long the air in the room seemed to still.
“If you could have one wish, what would it be?” he asked.
“To have two wishes.”
He smiled at that. “Okay. What would they be?”
“One, to have my own restaurant, and two, to have my nieces come and live with me. They’re my sister’s girls. Ages ten and twelve. Life’s very hard for them, too.” She wondered how they were doing. On the few occasions that she prayed, they were who she prayed for. “I love them very much.”
“They’re back in Denver?”
“Yes.”