The Lost Girl Read online

  ‘I can.’

  ‘You can’t. You can’t even look after yourself yet! And sure as a black winter brings a full graveyard, I don’t want another baby. I’ve already too much to do as it is, what with lookin’ after you, Sam and your pa. I’ve cleaned her up, but that’s all I’m gonna do for her. Your pa must take her into town now.’ She set her mouth in a thin line.

  Joe’s eyes filled with tears. ‘But I found the baby, so she’s mine. Pa said you get to keep what you find. Isn’t that so, Pa?’

  Hiram Walker leaned forward in his wooden chair. ‘You’re right, son, I did, but I was talkin’ about gold, not babies. Like your ma said, you can’t keep her, and that’s that. Best thing is I take her to the railroad office and they can decide what to do with her. Her ma’s dead so we can’t ask her where she came from, or where she was goin’. I’m guessin’ she walked from one of the railroad camps down South Pass way. I reckon she’d have been the only China woman in her camp, and they wouldn’t’ve wanted—’

  ‘What’s a China woman?’ Joe interrupted.

  ‘A woman who comes from a country called China. You can always tell them – they’ve got yellow skins and they speak a different language. China’s a mighty long way away so they come here by boat. You won’t recall, but we met a few Chinamen last year when I was prospectin’ up in South Pass.’

  ‘D’you think she went for a walk one day and got lost?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Nope. I reckon the people in the camp where she worked didn’t want her and her baby. Like we don’t want a baby here, and certainly not a China woman’s baby. The railroad can decide what to do with the gal. She’s nothin’ to us.’ Hiram rose from his chair and made a move towards the box. ‘When we’ve dealt with the gal, I’ll bury the mother. Sam can help if he’s back by then.’

  ‘No!’ Joe shouted, and he flung himself over the box.

  Martha moved quickly to Joe’s side. She caught hold of his shoulders, pulled him back, slid her arms around his chest and hugged him to her. ‘Your pa’s right, Joe. The baby’s gotta go.’

  ‘No, it hasn’t; it’s mine. Please, Pa.’ Breaking free of his mother’s grip, Joe flung himself at his father. ‘Please let me keep her,’ he cried, winding his arms around his father’s legs. ‘I’ll help Ma look after her. I promise I will.’ He broke out into loud sobs.

  Hiram stared down at his son, then he lifted his eyes to his wife’s face, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  She tightened her lips and shook her head.

  He glanced back down at Joe, and at the wet patch of denim beneath Joe’s face. Then he looked at his wife again. ‘Maybe we should think this through some, Martha,’ he said slowly.

  Joe clutched his father’s legs more tightly.

  Martha glanced towards the baby, hesitated a moment, then picked up two dirty mugs from the table and turned towards the sink and bowl. ‘There’s nothin’ to think about,’ she said bluntly. ‘I don’t want another baby, and that’s my last word on it. Havin’ all that work all over again.’ She shook her head. ‘I sure as anythin’ don’t want that. You take it into town, Hiram,’ she added, nodding over her shoulder towards the baby.

  Hiram didn’t move. ‘But you did want one, and not so long ago, either,’ he said. ‘And so did I.’

  She turned and stared at him. ‘What’re you sayin’?’

  ‘We lost two babies between Sam and Joe, and we lost two since Joe. I reckon there ain’t gonna be any more for us, gal. This could be our last chance for that daughter you wanted. For the daughter we both wanted.’

  She gestured dismissively with her shoulders, and gave a dry laugh. ‘But she wouldn’t be like my daughter, would she? She won’t look like us – she’ll look like a China woman. She’d never feel like family.’

  ‘I guess that’s true.’ Hiram paused. ‘But does it matter?’

  ‘It sure does. I wanted a daughter of my own, not someone else’s. The railroad man can decide what to do with her; she’s not for us.’

  ‘But we know what he’ll decide, don’t we?’ Hiram said quietly.

  Their eyes met, then she looked away. ‘Maybe; maybe not. Anyway,’ she added briskly, moving to the sink. ‘I can’t stand here all evenin’. I’ve got a meal to put on the table.’ She put the mugs on the draining board, pulled open one of the drawers and took out a handful of knives and forks.

  His hand ruffling Joe’s hair, Hiram gazed around the living room of the two-bedroomed wood-frame shack they rented from the mining company.

  The last rays of dusty sunlight were trickling through the small-paned windows on either side of the front door, bringing light to the kitchen area in the front of the house, and casting in shadow the back of the room.

  Three unlit kerosene lamps hung from hooks on the wall behind him, alongside his mining tools, miner’s hat and an assortment of ropes. A large wooden tub stood on either side of the opening in the wall that led to the corridor running between the two bedrooms to the rear. One of the tubs was full of clothes needing ironing and the other already half-full with clothes for washing on the following Monday.

  In the opposite corner stood an iron stove, its stovepipe running up to the ceiling and out of the roof through a circle of tin. The smell from the cabbage cooking inside the cast-iron pot on the stove was slowly filling the room.

  Glancing up, Hiram saw that the strip of sticky paper that hung down from the ceiling was thick with black flies.

  He looked back at his wife’s face, at the lines of tiredness and disappointment etched around her eyes – eyes that had once sparkled with life.

  ‘Somethin’ else to think about, gal,’ he said. ‘You’re always sayin’ how much work you’ve got, that there’s never a time when everythin’s done. If you had someone to help in the house, you’d get through it all a bit faster. Sure, havin’ a baby would mean extra work for the next three years, but after that … And Joe will help out. He don’t start school for several months, and when he does, he can do chores before and after. And I’m sure the Oaklands next door would give a hand, too. They’re right neighbourly people.’ He looked down at Joe. ‘You’d help your ma with the baby and do whatever she asked, wouldn’t you, son?’

  Nodding vigorously, Joe turned to his mother. ‘Can we keep her, Ma?’ he begged. Leaning back against his father’s legs, he gazed up at his mother, his eyes full of hope.

  ‘Think about it, Martha,’ Hiram urged. ‘The gal won’t be a baby for long. In no time at all she’ll be able to help you with the chores. Your day would be a mite bit easier if you had someone doin’ the preservin’ with you, and the washin’, ironin’ and mendin’, and all the other things you do.’

  Martha glanced towards the baby, and then back at Hiram. ‘And just where d’you suggest she sleeps?’

  He shrugged. ‘Same place as if we’d had a gal of our own, like we wanted – she’ll be in with us while I build a room on the back of the house. It’d be easy enough to fit it between the house and vegetable patch, opposite the privy. The company’s got no problem with it. Lots of folk’ve done it.’

  Martha stared across the room towards the bedrooms, and then she turned back to Joe, her expression thoughtful.

  ‘And you reckon you’d really help some more about the house, Joe?’ she asked after a short pause. ‘You wouldn’t start wantin’ to be doin’ somethin’ more interestin’ and keep on disappearin’, leavin’ me to do everythin’? And you’ll go out to work as soon as you’re old enough to help us pay for her?’

  ‘I promise I’ll help you,’ he said solemnly. ‘And when I’m older, I’ll work hard and give you all the money I get. I promise.’

  She wiped her hands down the front of her pinafore. ‘Well, I guess that’s settled then.’

  Joe’s face broke out into a wide smile. He gazed up at his father, then at his mother, his eyes shining.

  ‘Thanks, Ma,’ he said, beaming.

  ‘You may not be thankin’ me for long,’ she said sharply. ‘Babies need a l
ot of lookin’ after, so you’re gonna take over some of my chores. One of the things you can do is help with the vegetable patch, and I don’t wanna hear you complain it’s a woman’s work.’

  He shook his head. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘And you’ll need to get the neighbours’ help to build the room, Hiram, or its roof won’t last the first flurry of snow,’ she added, the trace of a smile flickering across her lips.

  ‘That I will,’ he said.

  Turning away, she leaned over the table and picked up the box with the baby in it. ‘OK, Charity; let’s put you in the bedroom. While I’m puttin’ her down, Joe, get me any shirts you’ve outgrown. I’ll make her some clothes out of them and I’ll use the cut-off strips as diapers.’

  ‘What’s that you called her?’ Hiram asked.

  ‘You heard me – Charity. For all your fancy talk, that’s what takin’ her in is, isn’t it? It’s an act of charity. And when you’ve given me the shirt, Joe,’ she went on, ‘you can run into town and get some cans of milk. Your pa will give you the money since he’s so keen on keepin’ the baby. And while you’re there, find Sam and tell him he should’ve been home a while ago, and he’s to come back now.’

  Joe ran along the short corridor to his bedroom door, and flung it open.

  Hiram watched him go into his room, and then turned back to his wife. ‘Thanks, Martha,’ he said. ‘It’s a kind thing you’re doin’; it means a lot to the boy.’

  ‘You’re soft, Hiram Walker; that’s what you are. But I’m not. Don’t think I’m gonna love this baby, just ’cos I’ve had a moment of weakness, ’cos I’m not. I’ve taken it in as much for me as for Joe. You happened on the right words when you pointed out the help she could be. Back on the ranch, we always had help in the house, so I’ll only be gettin’ what I was used to, and what I thought you’d be able to give me, but couldn’t. This baby’s not gonna be a daughter, and she’s not gonna be a sister for Sam and Joe. She’ll never be part of our family – she’s here to help me in the house, and that’s the way she’s gonna be treated.’

  Her lips tightening, she went through to her bedroom, holding Charity at a slight distance.

  Chapter Three

  Four years later

  June, 1872

  Charity picked up the first of Sam’s heavy work boots, its dark brown leather deeply engrained with black coal-dust, and passed it to Joe. Joe handed the boot to Sam, and without looking at Charity, held out his empty hand towards her again. Giggling, she put the second of the boots into his hand, and he passed that one, too, to Sam.

  When he’d pulled his boots on, Sam sat back in his chair, stretched out his legs, ran his hand over his chin, and stared thoughtfully at Joe.

  Sam’s face, Joe suddenly noticed, was ageing beyond his years.

  ‘You know, Joe,’ Sam said. ‘Instead of doin’ whatever it is you do all day, you’re old enough now to be out workin’. After all, you’re eleven now. You could be earnin’ fifty or sixty cents a day, and Ma could use the money. With a second mine openin’, they’ll need lads to work in the breakers. All you’d have to do is pick out pieces of slate from the coal that goes by you on the chute, and at the end of your shift, they’d pay you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah – bein’ under the ground all day would be grand. What could be better than bein’ in the dark for ten hours, with coal dust all around, listenin’ to loud machinery and the sound of blastin’? And never seein’ the sun? I’m not gonna do it and you can’t make me.’ Joe’s mouth set in a stubborn line.

  Sam shrugged. ‘You’d get used to it. Me, I wouldn’t wanna work out in the sun all day. At least down the mine, you’re workin’ in your own room, you and your partner, and you’re with a group of men you know. And you can bend an elbow with the boys at night. It’s a good life for a man.’

  ‘And how good would my life be if I cut my hands on the slate so bad that I couldn’t hold the reins of my horse?’

  ‘You haven’t got a horse.’

  ‘When I have one.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have to stay in the breakers for long. In a year or so, you’ll be old enough to be one of the boys who control the air in the mines. Every right-thinkin’ lad in Carter wants to be a door tender. Or a trap boy. You’d just have to open the doors for the mules. If you were already workin’ in the mines, you’d be top of the heap when those plum jobs came up.’

  ‘Right-thinkin’!’ Joe laughed scornfully. ‘You think it’s right-thinkin’ to wanna go even further down the stinkin’ mines than the breakers go? To be alone in a dark passage for maybe fourteen hours, with no one around for company ’cept rats? To stand in muddy water, hour after hour, waitin’ for the mules and their loaded cars, openin’ and shuttin’ the door for them, and then standin’ and waitin’ again? I’ve talked to some of the other miners, and I know what the work is, and you ain’t gettin’ me down there.’

  ‘Too good for the work, are you?’ Sam sneered. ‘So what you gonna do then? ’Cos you gotta do somethin’ at your age. I did, didn’t I? And no brother of mine’s gonna sit around a coffee pot all day and do nothin’.’

  ‘And I won’t – I’ll get work. I dunno what yet, but whatever it is, it’ll be on the ground, not under it. I want fresh air and green grass all around me, and I wanna hear birds sing, and not blastin’.’

  ‘You seen much grass around here, Joe?’ Sam asked, standing up, ‘’Cos I ain’t. There’s bits here and there, but the sun dries it all up, and even if it starts out green, it sure ain’t green when it finishes. As for fresh air, there’ll not be much of that when the second mine opens. We live on top of coal and we’ve gotta get it outa the ground if we want money for food and fuel for the trains to run on. And that means dirt, steam and smoke. And I reckon it’s time you accepted it.’

  ‘Mornin’, boys,’ Hiram said, coming from the corridor into the room.

  Sam glanced at him. ‘Mornin’, Pa. I’ve just bin tellin’ Joe there’s work to be had in the mines.’

  ‘There is today, son, but there may not be for much longer,’ Hiram said flatly, going across to Martha, who was dividing cake between two metal lunch buckets.

  Sam stared at his father, alarm on his face. ‘What’re you sayin’?’

  Hiram picked up one of the bucket lids, and glanced at him. ‘Just that the Union Pacific seems to have got the taste for what it did last year when they cut the price of coal and the men went on strike.’

  ‘You mean firin’ the strikers and bringin’ in the Swedes and Irish?’

  ‘Yup. that’s it.’

  ‘But like you said, that was last year.’ Sam’s brow furrowed. ‘What’s it gotta do with now?’

  ‘Just that havin’ done it once, they can do it again. Now the railroad’s built, they no longer need the Chinamen for that. But it seems they’re good at blastin’, and the company’s started puttin’ them in mines hereabouts. Carter’s could easily be the next. They pay Chinamen less than the whites, and there’s talk of them takin’ jobs from the whites. If that happens, we’ll soon be the ones who look out of place, not Charity.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘I can’t see that happenin’. No, sir; I can’t.’

  Hiram started pressing the lid down on the bucket. ‘I sure hope you’re right, Sam.’

  Martha tapped Hiram on the back of the hand. ‘Here, I’ll do that.’

  ‘I’ll do the cups, then,’ he said, and he picked up one of two metal teacups next to the buckets and started tying it to one of the handles. He looked across at Joe. ‘So you thinkin’ of askin’ at the mine office for work, Joe?’

  ‘You leave Joe be, Hiram,’ Martha interrupted. ‘He’s like me. He liked it on the ranch, and he’ll look for ranch work one day. Aren’t I right, Joe?’

  ‘You’re too soft on Joe, Ma,’ Sam said sharply. ‘I don’t hear you tellin’ him how hard it is to make ends meet, but you sure tell me often enough. Well, I’m doin’ my bit, and it’s time he helped out, too. There’s work goin’, and he’s old enough to get
a job.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll be a cowboy,’ Joe mused. ‘I’d get to see a fair few places if I was a cowboy. Or maybe I’ll get me a homestead. Truth is, I don’t yet know what I wanna do most of all, but whatever it is, it won’t be minin’.’

  ‘Sam’s right about there bein’ work in the mines, Joe,’ Hiram said, glancing at him.

  A bolt of alarm shot through Joe. ‘I—’

  ‘Charity’s four now,’ his father cut in, ‘and she’s an extra mouth to feed. But she ain’t yet big enough to help your ma and pay her way. You wanted us to take her in, so it’s only right you help us pay for her keep, so go and get yourself a job. By the time you’re old enough to do whatever it is you decide to do, Charity will be old enough to help your ma in the house and bring in some money.’

  Joe glanced at Charity, who was staring up at them, her thumb in her mouth, her gaze moving from him to Hiram, and back to him again. ‘I can’t go down the mines – I’ve gotta help Ma,’ he said, a note of pleading creeping into his voice. ‘I promised I would.’

  ‘Now Charity’s grown I don’t need as much help in the house, Joe, so you can go for that job,’ Martha said, going across to Sam, a lunch bucket in each hand. ‘That’s your lunch, Sam, and here’s yours, Hiram.’ She handed them each a bucket.

  ‘Thanks, Ma,’ Sam said.

  Turning away, Sam gave Joe a sly grin, and then he and Hiram reached up and took their wide brimmed hard-leather hats from the hooks on the back wall. They crossed to the front door and Hiram pulled it open and went out. A triumphant smile on his face, Sam followed his father. The door clicked shut behind them.

  Martha turned to Joe. ‘I know you don’t want to, Joe, but you’re gonna have to take a job in the mines. Not the full ten hour shift, but for a few hours each day. With both your pa and Sam workin’ for the company, I reckon they’d give you a couple of hours after school, and a few more hours on the days when you’re not in school. The mine doesn’t have to be forever – I want you to get away from here almost as much as you do – but you promised to help out, and a promise is a promise.’