Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(37)

“You remember my general store, back home in Dahlonega?”

“I’ll never forget it.”

“When I wanted to buy supplies, I had to buy them with cash up front. Nobody would extend credit to a Negro. That’s not the deal Hardwick has.”

“Huh?” I clutch the coffee mug close; maybe I’m seeking comfort.

“Hardwick owns everything on paper, but that doesn’t mean he paid for it all. The banks extend him credit. So he takes the title on the property, and collects rents, and he gives everyone else their cut. He pays his gang more than they could make doing carpentry work or prospecting. He pays the sheriff to look the other way, and I guess the politicians and judges, too. Maybe even the bank. In the end, he has a nice chunk of money left over. And he never had to buy anything up front in order to get it.”

I think back, trying to remember if I saw Mr. Keys count out a portion of coins to the bank manager, but I wasn’t paying close enough attention.

“Don’t like the food?”

I glance down at my bowl. Most of it is uneaten. I’m pushing the remaining stew around with a piece of bread. “It’s just . . . you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Chairs scrape as a handful of customers rises to leave. When they exit, light pours in through the door, and I have a brief but perfect view of the street. Two tall fellows stand there, peering inside and not even trying to be subtle about it. I recognize them as the polite gunmen in nice wool suits we met at the Custom House: Large and Larger.

“We were followed,” I tell Jim.

He nods. “As long as they don’t come inside. Just keep your voice low.”

I’m not sure Large and Larger can see me from where they stand, but just in case, I take a defiant sip of coffee and stare over the edge of the mug at them as if I’m not afraid at all.

“Anyway, I came to San Francisco planning to set up a new general store,” Jim says. “It’s like Dahlonega all over again. In two or three years, once the rush settles and regular business gets established, that’ll be the way to make a living. But every piece of property I look at costs too much. And your best business is regular customers, folks that come in month after month, year after year. There can be no regulars if your neighborhood changes every time the moon wanes. All because of the problems I’ve been describing to you.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going back to Georgia, that’s for damn sure. I hear parts of Canada are pretty nice.” He pushes back from the table.

I put a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

He sits back down, eyeing me warily. Gray hair grows at his temples now, which is new since I last saw him. The trip west was hard on us all. “That’s right. You wanted to ask me something about your uncle.”

If Jim thinks it’s safe to talk freely here, then I have to get my questions out now. “Well, him and Mama, actually. After I got to California, Uncle Hiram found me. He . . . kidnapped me.”

“Oh, Miss Leah, I’m so sorry.” He leans toward me, forearms on the table. “But you got away? You said Hiram wasn’t a problem anymore.”

“He held me captive. Dressed me up in clothes my mama used to wear. He had this mine going, worked by local Indians. It was awful. They were sick and starving and there was an uprising and . . .” My heart beats too fast, my breath comes in gasps, as memories pour in. I’m not over what happened yet. Not by a long shot.

“Take your time,” Jim says.

It’s a long moment before I trust my voice to obey. “Before I got away, he told me something. I thought maybe you’d know if it was true or not.”

“Oh?”

“He said I was his very own daughter. Not Reuben’s girl, but his. That he and Mama . . .”

“Ah,” Jim says. “I see.” He regards me with frank honesty. “I always suspected.”

“You did?”

“Your mama, Elizabeth, was all set to marry Hiram. They were sweethearts. But then one day she suddenly got herself hitched to his brother, Reuben, instead. No one was more surprised than Hiram. He carried a grudge ever since.”

I’m frowning. “But that was years before I came along.”

Jim nods. “Hiram carried a torch for Elizabeth for a long time. It was plain as day to anyone with eyes. But a man like that can’t truly love another person. He can only love selfishly, his heart full of his own needs. I think . . . I think maybe he . . .”

“You think he raped her.”

His lips press together into a firm line.

My next words are a whisper. “Did Daddy know?”

“I reckon so.” Jim’s gaze turns fierce. “Your daddy loved you more than life itself, don’t think he didn’t. You were his very own daughter in every way that mattered.”

“I know.”

“But you might have noticed that Hiram left Dahlonega. He wasn’t much welcome after that.”

“I hardly saw him or heard tell of him, growing up.”

“And when your parents were murdered, and you came to my store all forlorn but with the fire of determination in your eyes, I had a pretty good idea who had done it. I knew you had to get out of town as quick as possible.”

I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”