Page 31 of Forbidden (Old West 1)

“I know, and I appreciate your concern, but a stand has to be made to protect the gains made since the war. If I can put myself in a position of power to do so, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because not even you can stop the backsliding Republicans. Every day they’re moving farther away from what they once stood for. Your people have taken to calling them Lily White Republicans.”

“I know, and it’s very apt.”

After using the Black vote to swing political power their way and elect Grant to the presidency, more and more Republicans were now focused on gaining White voters in order to hold onto that power. Many were turning a blind eye to the rampaging supremacist groups like the Klan and the Order of the White Camellias even as their members were killing Colored men on their way to cast votes for candidates running on the Republican slate. It was maddening, but Rhine felt uniquely qualified to be a voice for those who did care, because of his passion, education, and ability to pass for White. He may have turned his back on being Black, but not on his race. Politics aside, he asked something that had been plaguing him. “Have you heard from Mavis?” Mavis was Drew’s sister and Rhine’s half sister.

“No. I hired the Pinkertons. If anyone can find her, they can. Hopefully she’s still among the living.” Just as Drew and Rhine were connected by their close birth dates, so were their sisters. Mavis and the enslaved Sable had been born six minutes apart.

“Any word on Sable?” Drew asked.

“No, I’m still placing yearly notices in all the big papers, hoping she’ll see it, but so far nothing. If we are fortunate enough to be reunited, I’m not sure how Natalie will react, but I miss her dearly. I may have to go the Pinkerton route as well.”

“Rhine, I know you’re rowing your own boat, but is Natalie really the woman you want to bind your life to?”

Drew had been married for three years to the daughter of one of his clients. Her name was Freda, and they had a two-­year-­old son named for Drew. The way she and Drew lit up a room in each other’s presence testified to their strong loving bond. A part of Rhine envied that closeness, but having never known love, he was certain he could live his life very well without it. He cared for Natalie, but as he’d stated, the marriage would be one of convenience, nothing more. Eddy’s face played across his mind but he instantly pushed the image away. “I’ll be fine.” He looked past the doubt in his brother’s eyes and his own inner doubts and steered the conversation to a subject they both enjoyed: money, stocks, and profit.

Later that night, while lying in the bed in Drew and Freda’s guest room, Rhine thought about Drew’s advice on both politics and life. Rhine was certain he could make a difference, but did he really need to do it on such a grand stage? He’d thought about running for Congress but in truth wasn’t sure whether to actually pursue a political career. He was already on the city council, where he and a few other like-­minded Republicans were doing their best to keep the Colored community’s rights from being trampled. He was also helping in small, quieter ways by making loans and investing in businesses the White bankers refused to service. Knowing he had the ability to pass for White was one of the reasons he’d crossed over, that and that he hated being treated like less than a man simply because of the circumstances of his birth. By walking among those who deemed themselves better because of the circumstances of their birth, he could secretly laugh at their blind ignorance of who he really was and use his presence as a way of fighting back. It came at a price though: hearing the cruel and tasteless jokes told by bigots at gatherings, and being looked at oddly for pointing out how tasteless they were; knowing that even though his Union Saloon opened its doors to the weddings and celebrations thrown by the Colored community, he couldn’t participate fully because he was no longer a member of the race. By passing, he’d gained a lot in terms of wealth and prestige, but he’d lost a lot as well.

And now, Eddy. For the first time since leaving Virginia City he allowed himself to think about her fully. He was drawn not only to her beauty but to her strength and determination to carve out a better life. He thought back on the story she’d told about how hard life had been after the death of her parents and he was moved all over again. Was it any wonder that he’d become so affected by her in such a short span of time? Were he his true self, he’d waste no time pursuing her, but he wasn’t, and therein lay the problem. The man he was pretending to be had nothing honorable to offer. When he left her at Sylvia’s that evening, he’d tried to convince himself that putting her out of his mind would be easy, but so far his mind was refusing to play along.

It took two more days of bed rest for Eddy to get back on her feet, but if Mrs.Stewart had had her way, the stay would’ve lasted longer. While waiting to be officially released, Eddy endured more burned food and continued to use the aloe concoction on her hands and face. Although she was unfamiliar with the plant and its benefits, she was glad for Mrs.Stewart’s expertise because it was helping her skin heal and dulling the pain of the burns.

However, having worked from sunup to sundown most of her adult life, lazing around in bed was not only still frustrating, it also gave birth to a strong sense of guilt. Each time Mrs.Stewart brought in a tray of food, Eddy wondered if she was eating the kind woman out of house and home.

On the third day, when Mrs.Stewart entered the room carrying the breakfast tray, Eddy was on her feet and dressed.

“What are you doing up?”

“I’m ready to begin earning my keep. What chores need doing?”

“Eddy, I—­”

“Please, I’m done lying in bed, and I’m strong enough to help out, so I start today.”

“Not used to following orders, are you?” Mrs.Stewart asked, sounding amused.

“No, ma’am.”

“Then the two of us are going to get along just fine. I don’t follow orders well either.”

Eddy eyed the burnt breakfast on the tray.

Mrs.Stewart saw the look. “You’re welcome to make your own breakfast if you like.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. I don’t want to waste food.”

“Honey, I’ve been wasting food since you arrived. Go fix you something to eat. There’s plenty.”

Eddy took the tray from her hand. “Tomorrow.”

The action caused Mrs.Stewart to view her silently before replying knowingly. “Yes. We’re going to get along real well.”

Eddy forced herself not to mind that the bacon, eggs, and toast were again all burned. Washing the charred tastes down with a cup of coffee, she picked up the tray and left the room.

Even though it her first full day on her feet and she felt well, she knew better than to overdo it, so she descended the stairs slowly to the main floor. At the bottom of the staircase was a large room that held a number of small tables with two chairs each. She wondered if it was the common room where the boarders took their meals.

She found Mrs.Stewart in the big kitchen attached to the back of the house that Rhine had carried her through on the night she arrived. Rather than wonder if he’d returned from San Francisco, she took a look around. There was a large modern stove, a sink, lengths of countertops, and a slew of cabinets. The kitchen walls were screened to let in the outside air. “So, what would you like for me to do, Mrs.Stewart?”

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