What Once We Loved (43 page)

What made Seth decide to head out to Mei-Ling's, he didn't know. Restlessness, he supposed. Avoiding talking with Suzanne because he didn't know what to say. She'd risked her thoughts and feelings with him, asked nothing in return, and he'd stood speechless. When he'd initiated a kiss, that had been fine. But when it was her leading a horse to water, the old mount just didn't know whether to drink or gallop away. He was procrastinating. It was already February, and he'd decided nothing. Except to ride out to see the little Celestial and her child.

“You do not come with Missy Suzanne or Missy Esther?” she said, her eyes looking past him.

“They had other plans,” he said. He ran the reins through his hands, feeling the leather. “And I hadn't seen you for a spell. Got to stay in touch, or that baby of yours'U be walking and wearing pants before I even get to know him.”

“Many moons before he walks,” she said, lowering her lashes and
blinking in that way she had. She'd invited him inside, served him tea as she knelt.

“You like Miss Suzanne?” Mei-Ling asked then.

“Well, sure.” He fidgeted as he sat cross-legged on the rice mat covering the floor. “Doesn't everyone?”

“Ah. You do not tell yourself the truth yet, Seth Forrester.”

“Yes I do.”

“Truth. You look for reason not to find Missy Suzie special like a sugared nut. You afraid you not good enough for Missy Suzie.”

“These are sure good,” he said. “What'd you say it was?”

“Nut. Comes from China.” She paused, poured a cup of tea. “Missy Suzie's baby is well?”

“Good as expected. That little Clayton's talking pretty good.” He felt a twinge of…something. Powder was working hard as ever, and the man had been more than civil to him. He didn't think Suzanne held any special fondness for him, other than as a tutor. Of course she didn't. She'd told Seth as much when she shared her thoughts with him. And what had he done? Nodded his head. Shoot. To a blind woman, a nod was as good as a grimace and no help at all. She wasn't pushing at him. That was sure true. Maybe he just didn't know what to do with a woman who wasn't running from him.

“Seth Man is troubled,” Mei-Ling said. She touched the back of his hand, light as a butterfly.

“When'd you become such wise counsel?”

“I see how you look at her last time you here. Missy Suzie see it too if her eyes work. But she
sees
it here,” she said, patting her heart. “She does not tell you?”

He pulled at his collar. “Say, how're your bees doing? What are you and the mister up to?”

“We make plans. Leave soon,” she told him as she served him dried abalone across the bamboo table. “From China too,” she said, as he tasted it. “Very good, yes?”

“Different,” Seth said. “So you're leaving? Where you going?”

“Oregon. Maybe.”

“I hear Ruth has headed up that way, she and the Schmidtkes. You going to work mine tailings or what?”

“We plant gardens there, good ground. Here, Chinese not wanted. Even Indians not want us. Call us ‘Chinee-Winto.' Chinese mine what others leave, pay big tax. They only collect from Chinese. No money to send home. No money to buy vegetables. No money to put into ground, plant trees.”

“How're your bees doing?”

“Need many blossoms.”

“Be a shame to leave what youVe done here,” Seth said.

“Home is where you warm,” she said, touching her small fingers to her chest.

“You dont say.” He chewed the abalone, evaluating the new tastes. “They say you'll need your umbrella in Oregon. Rains up that way.”

“Here umbrella wards off rocks thrown when just walking with baby. Baby needs to grow where family honored.”

“That doesn't happen much anywhere,” Seth said.

“Wrong word chosen,” she said and bowed, revealing more of the ivory sticks that held her hair in twists at the side of her head. “Need place where child sees parents live without lowering heads in shame.”

“I hear you,” Seth said. He picked up a little candy, unrolled the paper wrapper. “Every kid needs to see others looking up to their parents. Makes ‘em feel valued.”

“This is word I mean to choose. Valued.” She nodded. “We are not valued here. Husband s work. Not valued. Our people. Not valued. In China, family greatest treasure. Here, gold greatest treasure.”

“Ruth was heading to a place along Bear Creek, near a pair of flat-topped rocks. Table Rocks, they call them. Southern Oregon, north of Yreka.”

Mei-Ling nodded. “Maybe we go there. See old friends again. Maybe.”

“I'm sure you could stop over at Mazy's,” he said. “She's got a whole
passel of people staying there. Out where we camped that first night, you remember?” Mei-Ling nodded. “Calls it Poverty Flat, but its rich bottom land. Hey, maybe you and your family could go there?” he said. “Grow all kinds of things on that river bottom.”

Mei-Ling shook her head. “Must leave California. All rumor say soon all Chinese go, take nothing. We go now. Take bees.”

“Guess you got a plan,” he said. “But I'd wait ‘til summer, is all I'm saying. Rivers be flooded this spring and traveling not good. If you can wait ‘til May maybe. Sometime around there, it'd be better going.”

He stood to leave, thought to offer to guide them north. But he wasn't sure where he'd be come May. “Guess I best say howdy and goodbye to your man there, Mei-Ling.” They walked to where Mei-Ling's husband bent his narrow back at work along a short row of peach trees planted. Pleasantries exchanged, they started back. Mei-Ling pointed at this and that, sometimes cooing to the baby, sometimes stopping to let the child feel the tender branches; to show him something that he otherwise would have missed.

They had nearly reached Seth's tethered horse when he saw the woman running toward them, a bundle in her arms.

“What's that about?” he asked.

Mei-Ling stood on tiptoes, winced with the pain ofthat, then sheltered her eyes from the afternoon sun. The woman ran hard, looking back over her shoulder, reaching Seth's horse just as he and Mei-Ling did. “Whoa there, what's the matter?” Seth said to her. Did he know this woman?

She gasped for air, looked behind her. “He comes,” she said. “Take baby. Go. Save baby.” She thrust the child at Seth.

“Whoa, whoa, now,” he said, raising his hands to object. “Baby needs its mother, isn't that right, Mei-Ling. Naomi? It's you, isn't it?”

“He kills me. He says he kills me,” Naomi said. “You help me.”

“Well, yes, but not by taking your baby.”

The woman sobbed, her face streaked with tears and sweat and dirt, and then Seth noticed the blackness at her eyes and cheeks, the scars at
her wrists as she held the baby up again, pushing it against his raised forearms. “Save baby, please!”

He thought he saw dust in the distance. He whistled to his big sorrel gelding, grabbed the reins at the post, tossed them up, and swung himself in. “Give me the child now,” he said and he placed the bundle on the pommel before him, holding it with his legs. Then he lowered his hand to her.

Naomi turned to run off, but Mei-Ling blocked her way, and Seth leaned over and touched Naomi's shoulder. “You're coming too. I know a safe place for you both.” At last, something he knew how to fix.

She was light as a feather, and he sat her up behind him. “You'll be all right?” he asked Mei-Ling.

She looked to the field. “I go there. Husband make safe for me. You go. Go!” she urged.

He kicked the big animal, and they sped off down the rows of trees, then through the cottonwoods that lined the creek bed. Seth looked back once to see Mei-Ling standing, her small husband running toward her just as a horse and rider broke through the dust and Seth descended over the side with his treasures.

Mazy was at Wilsons store when Nehemiah rode in. He brought a pack string of supplies with him though most he'd delivered at Weaverville. Then he'd come on over the Trinity Mountains to Shasta City.

She looked for Tipton and felt disappointed when Tipton didn't appear. Mazy knew it had been awhile since Tipton'd seen her mother. Adora seemed ready to mend the rip. Ruth came to mind.

Nehemiah looked cheerful, jovial almost, as he chatted with Adora. Charles's presence paused him some, but he didn't stand off nor stand to fight. Instead he acted as though he was a knight returning from battle almost.

“Its been a season,” he told Charles. “Good trips and bad. Now this one, this one I was happy to be making, getting to see kin and all. Place has sure built up,” he said. He looked around at the brick buildings, the heavy iron shutters on every window, to keep it from burning again. He craned his neck into the store. Was he looking for someone? “How was your winter?” he asked, turning back.

“Fine,” Adora said. “Truth be known, our worst was ‘52, the year we got here. Nothings been as bad since.”

“Only been one winter since then, Mother,” Charles corrected.

“And it was a mild one. Oregon folks didn't fare so well, I hear. Had a silver storm that lasted nearly a month. They had to send out an advance party to buy up the salt and set the price so it wouldn't be so inflated once they made Jacksonville. Heard that folks broke it open and ate it right there on the spot.”

“I had trouble getting into Jacksonville myself,” Nehemiah said. “So I'm glad for you that folks could make it over here, being milder and all.” He craned his neck again toward the back of the store, turned back.

“How's Tipton?” Mazy asked then, and the look that crossed his face told her she'd asked the one question he hadn't wanted to answer.

He cleared his throat. “Fine. Just fine.” He looked off to the side. “Oh, she hates having to wait alone while I'm gone, but in time, she'll be traveling with me on the campaign trail. Going to the state house for gatherings will tickle her fancy.”

“I certainly hope you haven't forgotten about this store,” Adora told him. “My Charles is just pushing himself to run it, and it could use a man accustomed to commerce, truth be known.”

Mazy thought the vein in Charles's neck throbbed fast.

“That might be difficult with us living where we are, Mrs. Wilson,” he said.

“Reason enough for you to move back over here.”

“I'll consider it,” he said. He cleared his throat again. “Might be good with the baby coming and all.”

“A baby!” Adora clapped her hands to her face. “Charles! Did you hear? It's about time. Well, why didn't you say so? My goodness. I'll have to get some things together. Send it right on back with you. No wonder Tipton didn't join you. Goodness knows, travel for a woman in that condition wouldn't be wise. Not wise at all.”

Mazy watched Nehemiah's face change like a man watching a mountain storm: moving from anticipation to dread, to an acquiescent calm.

“We wanted to…surprise you,” he said. “You know Tipton.”

“My little sister always did want to make an entrance,” Charles said.

“Not unlike you,” his mother chided. “You were the prissiest little boy, always wanting to dress meticulous and show off for us at the store. Must be some of the dramatic flair you both get from me,” she said and pushed the hairpin into the bun at the base of her neck.

“I have to be getting back,” Mazy said. “I hope you'll stay a day or so. Come out to the Flat.” She had a second thought. “I'm going by Mother's first, if you'd care to join me.”

“I would,” Nehemiah said.

“Now you stop back by,” Adora cooed. “Ill have a carpetbag of goodies for my little darling. A baby, Charles,” she said again as she scurried back inside. Mazy shivered at the look on Charles's face before he saw that she was watching.

Nehemiah led the horse as they walked. Mazy ignored the hole she was sure Charles's stare was making in her back.

“She's gone, isn't she?” Mazy said. “You don't know where Tipton is.”

He shook his head. “Left a month or more ago. Gave me a note saying she had to do things on her own. Didn't know anything about the baby until our housemaid told me.” He took a deep breath. “I've been such an old fool.”

“You're far from old, and Tipton never was one to do the predictable, except to be unpredictable,” Mazy said.

“I thought she'd come here. To be with her mother.”

“That does say something about what you don't know about that
family. She might have made amends with her mother, but there's bad blood between her and Charles I doubt will ever be cleansed.”