Silver Dreams (26 page)

Elizabeth turned toward the sultry voice as Ramona, wrapped in a Mexican poncho, sat down beside her. "I guess so," she admitted. "At least he looks sweet and harmless enough when he's sleeping."

"Don't they all, sugar," Ramona said. "And I suppose you've guessed by now that I've seen my share of snoring males."

Not wanting Ramona to feel uncomfortable, Elizabeth said, "I hadn't really thought about it."

Ramona smiled a little half grin. "Sure you have. A nice girl like you would have wondered about my line of work from the start." She fluttered her hand in the air. "Don't fret about it, I understand. What I do for a living you'd never even think of, and that's the way it should be. But we're not so different under the skin."

"Ramona, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Why do you do it? I mean, you're so beautiful, I'd think you could do anything you set your mind to."

"That's what I thought too, sugar, once upon a time. This certainly isn't the way I figured I'd end up. But life isn't a fairy tale and a gal's got to make a living."

Elizabeth nodded in sympathy. "That's true I guess. Where are you from? I know you said you came from San Francisco last, but where were you born?"

Ramona took a glass vial from the pocket of her poncho and poured a couple of drops of liquid into her coffee. Then she put the vial away and swirled the mug to mix the contents. After taking a swig, she turned toward Elizabeth. "This might surprise you, but I was born in India."

"India! I just knew you had to be from someplace exotic. What's it like in India?"

A faraway look veiled the woman’s eyes, and she smiled. "It's beautiful there...beyond your wildest dreams. Brilliant flowers in all the gardens and lovely ornamental trees. And the colors! The ladies wear silk saris of bright blue and orange with silver embroidery. I'll never forget the colors."

"But your parents aren't Indian, are they?"

"Only my mother. She was royalty, a distant relation anyway. And she was beautiful, just like her name - Opal. She sparkled like the jewel she wore on her finger."

Elizabeth could almost picture the dazzling Opal. She now understood the reason for Ramona's stunning appearance and her flawless porcelain beauty. Like her mother's had probably been, Ramona's features were as delicate as a doll's. "And your father?"

"My father, Lord Talbot Redbud, was British ambassador to India, under direct appointment from Queen Victoria. He met my mother at a state dinner when he first arrived in Calcutta, and he took to her like a bee to honey. He chased her until he won her hand in marriage."

Suddenly Elizabeth's own childhood and parentage seemed remarkably dull. "Did you grow up in a palace?" she asked.

"Oh, no, honey. Not a palace. My father had a townhouse in the city. I had a nice life though, until it all ended."

"What happened?"

"My mother died from a terrible disease. She just wasted away, and there was nothing anyone could do to save her. My father never left her bedside, and she died in his arms."

"How awful."

"Yes. I was only ten years old. After my mother was...gone, my father had to leave India. He was too sad to stay there. He booked passage for us to England, but he decided to sail first to San Francisco and see America. He hoped that an overland journey would take our minds off our despair."

"And did it?"

"I never got the chance to find out. Just a few miles from America, we were caught in a storm. Our ship tossed and rolled for hours until the sails were all torn, and the hull was destroyed. Eventually the ship sank in the Pacific."

"How did you survive?"

"My father was very weak but he managed to grab a piece of lumber. We both held onto it as long as we could, but during the second night, my father slipped under the sea. I tried to stop him but I wasn't strong enough."

Never in her life had Elizabeth heard such a sad, yet courageous tale, and she knew she would never forget it. Ramona had to be the bravest woman on earth. A warm glow illuminated the night sky around the two women, and Elizabeth wasn't sure whether it came from the fire or from the remarkable Miss Redbud. "How were you finally rescued?" she asked.

"Fishermen headed for San Francisco spotted me early the next morning. They pulled me into their boat, and that's how I eventually came to the very city my father had wanted us to visit together. I had no money of course, and no proof who I was, so I was put in an orphanage."

There was no end to this woman's tale of misfortune. "And that's where you spent the rest of your childhood?"

"Oh, no, I was only there for about a month."

"Someone adopted you?"  Elizabeth hoped it was someone wealthy and kind, like the gentleman who had taken Dickens's Oliver Twist to his heart. She wanted Ramona's story to have a happy ending.

"No, I wasn't actually adopted. A rich couple who lived on Nob Hill took me in and trained me as a housemaid, and that's where I was for the next seven years."

"You were a servant? Didn't you tell them your father was a lord?"

"Oh, honey, they weren't interested in that bit of fluff about me. All they cared about was how quickly I answered the bell pull and how well I scoured the tiles in the foyer."

Ramona must have seen the misery on Elizabeth's face, because she wrapped her fingers around her arm. "Don't fret so. The VanAllens weren't a bad sort. I had three good meals a day and a doctor when I was sick."

"But you should have had so much more!"

Ramona sighed. "Ah, yes, that was the thing that kept me awake nights...wondering what my life would have been like if only... That's what made me a dreamer, and I guess I am one to this day."

"How did you get away from the VanAllens?"

"Just up and left. I looked in the mirror one day, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was rather pretty, and if I was ever to be more than a serving girl, I had to use the gifts I was born with. That's just what I did...followed the gold and the men 'till I got to Colorado."  She shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows, maybe I'll follow them all the way to England some day and claim my father's title."

"Oh, you must do that!" Elizabeth encouraged.

Ramona nodded and took a long swig from her mug. She began coughing, and it seemed for a moment as if she couldn't catch her breath.

Elizabeth patted her back. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's the arsenic solution. It always gags me a little."

"Arsenic?" She recalled the vial in Ramona's pocket and the drops of liquid she'd put in her coffee. "You're not trying to poison yourself!"

"Heavens no. Whenever I'm away from a butcher shop I always take a few drops of arsenic every few days to keep my skin white. It makes me just a little bit sick without too much discomfort. Pale skin makes you look younger, you know."

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she'd just heard, and yet, it made a sort of cockeyed sense considering Ramona was never without her parasol in the sun. Could it be that her porcelain skin was as artfully contrived as her lips and brilliant eyes?  The wonder of the woman to go to such lengths for beauty.

"Why a butcher shop?" she questioned.

"When I can, I use a fresh slab of meat...veal's the best. I lay it on my face for an hour every morning. Pulls the color right out of my skin."

"I see," Elizabeth said, though she didn’t understand what sort of desperation would make a woman cover her face with raw meat. Despite sounding forward, she said, “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

The dove stared down at Elizabeth. "Sugar, there's something you should know. When I said you could ask me anything, I lied."

"Oh, sorry, but I do have one more question if it's okay."

"Shoot."

"What do you see in my brother?"

Ramona laughed out loud. "I wouldn't give two cents for a perfect man, or even worse, for one who thinks he's perfect. Ross may have fooled a lot of people, but not Ramona Redbud. It takes a seasoned charlatan like me to see what that man is really like. Deep down he knows he's got lots of flaws. The worst one is, he's a dreamer, just like I am. He knows the odds are against him, but, what the hell, he keeps on dreaming anyway. I could fall in love with a man like that."

Ramona threw the remaining contents of her mug on the fire, and it sizzled to a smoky death. "Come on, honey, I'm bunking with you tonight. We'll let the three mongrels share the other tent."

She stood up and walked around the fire to where the men dozed. Jabbing Ross playfully in the ribs with the toe of her boot, she said, "You'd best get your backside in that tent, Mr. Silver Baron, or the only memory you'll have of this trip is a frostbitten arse."

Following Ramona, Elizabeth stood over Max. "Wake up and go to bed, Cassidy," she said.

He looked up at her and frowned. "Cuddled up between Fagin and the Artful Dodger? I can’t wait."

They'd both been thinking of the same novel? Elizabeth shook her head and started to walk away, but he grabbed the cuff of her britches.

"Hey, Bets," he whispered. "You're not going to start drinking arsenic, are you?"

"You were listening!"

"Heard every word. I'm a reporter, remember?" He looked around to see that the others had gone into the tents, and his face grew serious. "You're not buying that lady of the manor story, are you?"

"Of course I believe her. Why would she lie about the deaths of her parents?"

"Maybe it's just wishful thinking for the ones she really has." He propped himself up on one elbow. "All I'm saying is, don't believe everything you hear. And don't put people on pedestals who can't stand alone on solid ground."

"I'll believe what I want to believe, Max. And I'll write a story about Ramona the way I want to. You're welcome to do the same."

"This isn't about bylines, Betsy. It's about knowing who to trust and how far you can trust them. I didn't call Ramona a charlatan. She used the term herself."

"You can't keep me from liking her."

"I'm not trying to. I like her myself, but if she's ever seen Calcutta or survived for two days by clinging to a stick in the Pacific Ocean, I'll supply her with raw meat the rest of my life!"