Forgiven Read Free Page B

Gardiner, let alone Mammoth.
    “That’s the greengrocer,” Caleb said. “There’s the pharmacy.”
    Such a variety of people, all dressed fine, even though wrapped against the chill wind. Such a hubbub and slop, garbage and calling out.
    “Lookie!” shouted Caleb, and he laughed. He pointed at the horseless carriage belching and rattling down the street in front of us. When it pulled over with a whine and a clattering halt, Caleb shouted, “Get a horse!” as I twisted right around in my seat to eyeball the thing.
    Such noise and confusion reigned that if I hadn’t been in control of myself I’d have slapped my hands over my ears and shut my eyes. The ride to Mrs. Gale’s house may have taken ten minutes, but it felt like ten hours.
    And then—there she was. In the middle of the chaos. Min.
    She glided down the street, head bowed, hands clutched at her middle. I lifted my own hand to call out to her but drew back just in time. For she’d walked right up to someone I knew, even if he was dressed decent. Even if he did sport a waxed mustache and a shiny star on his lapel. She walked up to Snake-eyes, and it was clear from the way he laid his hand on her: she belonged to him. Bitter saliva filled my mouth.
    Snake-eyes. Min was his. And he was the law.

Chapter THREE
    November 28, 1905
    “All I have done so far is to survive as
nothing more than a humble worker like pigs
and cows. Is my youth being wasted?
No. I have dreams. I have hopes.
Life means nothing if you don’ t try
to better yourself.”
    —Diary of Henry Hashitane,
Japanese rail worker in Montana, 1905
     
     
     
     
    I TUGGED AT CALEB’S SLEEVE, POINTED. “IS THAT THE SHERIFF?ʺ I could hardly choke the words out.
    “Him? Don’t know him. But that looks like a marshal’s badge. Must be from someplace else.”
    And Min. There she was. Almost like I’d conjured Min by thinking of her. And she was connected with him. My skin was a prickle all over, and that closed-in space feeling came over me and I smelled a trap, set and ready.
    Kula Baker knows predators.
    Pa’d said he’d come for me here when he was ready. I had to bide my time working for Mrs. Gale. Now I’d be biding with a wary eye and a worried heart until Marshal Snake-eyes returned to his someplace else. I put my hand up to hide my face as we drove by.
    We turned onto a broad avenue heading south, and I let out a long breath and shoved the thought of Snake-eyes from my mind.
    “There it is,” said Caleb. “Mrs. Gale’s.”
    I knew Mrs. Gale was a photographer who sold her photos, as well as being a widow of independent means. That was a startling fact all by itself—that she worked. But now that I approached her town home I saw Mrs. Gale through fresh eyes, and wide ones at that.
    Her house was the largest I’d ever seen up close, a brick three story with a full front porch like the one on the National Hotel in Mammoth, with tall windows draped in lace. A neat little picket fence surrounded the front yard with its sprawling bare-branched elm.
    Mrs. Gale herself came to the door when Caleb rang. She was just as I recalled her: bright-eyed, plump, thick fingers of gray woven through the brown coils of her rolled-up hair. I curtsied, a rare thing for me. I was humbled by all this splendor.
    “Kula.” Mrs. Gale smiled. “No need for formalities here. Come in.” She drew me into a front hall larger than most houses.
    Caleb followed me in with my trunk; I slipped my fingers into the bow of my bonnet while my eyes swept this grand space.
    Mrs. Gale lectured on about mealtimes and expectations and duties and other things I should be attending to. But my senses were otherwise occupied. I stopped in front of the tall clock in the hallway and listened to its deep, slow tock.
    “Because I live alone, I have no cook, so you’ll help in the kitchen as well.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” I murmured.
    “Let’s see you to your room.” She turned and led me up the stairs.
    The window that