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  “’Tis a hard life out here.”

  “Yes, that’s it. A hard life.” She smiled and looked pretty. She took a

  step back and motioned me up the steps. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? I could put some on to brew.”

  “May I come another time? I’m off to do some errands.”

  “Yes. That would be nice. Something to look forward to. I’m nearly

  almost always here. Come and knock on my door. I would love to have

  another woman to talk to.”

  “I look forward to it. Good bye, Elizabeth.” I backed up.

  “I’ll make some cake.”

  “Fine.” I turned away and then heard her say something again. She

  seemed to not want me to go. I wondered what her life must be like—

  alone in this shanty town where she had no family, waiting for her hus-

  band to return. I had no desire to marry just for the sake of it, for even the sacred institution offered little security.

  “Awful about that woman getting killed, wasn’t it?” she hollered at me.

  “Did you hear anything that night?”

  “No, just some singing. I fell asleep before midnight.”

  The church deepened into darkness as I walked into it. I had hoped I might find a mass in progress at St. Ambrose, but the nave was empty. I could

  smell the incense hanging in the air like burned wool. I crossed myself, genuflected, and slid into the second pew from the altar. The quiet did me good, falling on my shoulders like a wanted rain. With my brother gone, I could hardly remember why I had come to Deadwood and wondered if I

  should remain. For a moment, I wished I had never left St. Paul.

  Here I was. Nearly a grown- up woman, on my own, part- owner in a

  mining claim, with a golden locket hanging around my neck and my best

  dress on for the third day in a row. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to being a chambermaid, plus I knew I couldn’t have stayed at the Hunts’ too much longer.

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  In the darkness I stayed quiet a long while, letting my thoughts wander, saying a prayer, thinking of my mother. It was a wonder to me that I did not have to work, that I could sit here for an hour or two and no one would

  question if my chores had been done. A sense of freedom shot through me

  as loudly as the rifle crack from yesterday. I could do whatever I wanted.

  I stood and walked to the altar of the Virgin Mary. I had seen Mary

  looking better. Her head was tipped to one side, her eyes gazing in two

  slightly different directions, and one hand was missing. I lit a candle and prayed for my mother’s soul. I wished her a safe journey and hoped she

  wouldn’t have to waste too much time in purgatory but could get right

  on into heaven. I knew my mother would be happy to see my little sister

  Kathleen. I liked thinking of them together, my mother holding her up in her arms and spinning her around and around and Kathleen laughing with

  the song of a wren.

  Then my thoughts darkened. Would Lily be there too? Ah, she would

  have to spend a lot longer in purgatory to make up for her sins, but then I didn’t even know if she had been Catholic. If my mother did meet her, she would be kind to Lily. There had been a woman who lived down the road

  from us who made some money from visiting men. My mother would still

  say good morning to her on the way to town, unlike some of our neigh-

  bors. She said, “We all need to get by. Her husband left her, and how is she to feed the children? It would be a far greater sin to let them starve.”

  How might I pass judgment on Lily when I had watched a man be

  killed and said nothing of it? I said a quick prayer to God for forgiveness for all I had done.

  I turned to go when I saw someone move at the front of the church. A

  priest had been on his knees in front of the altar. I hadn’t seen him before because he was so stil . He walked down to greet me. “May I help you, my child?”

  “Father, I just needed to say a prayer for my departed mother. When

  do you have masses?”

  “Every morning at eight and twice on Sunday. Confession is heard

  Saturday in the afternoon. Where have you come from?”

  “From St. Paul. My brother and his friends have a claim here, and I’ve

  come to help them out.”

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  “St. Paul? That’s a handsome town. Right on the Mississippi. But

  where are you from originally, my child?”

  “My name is Brigid Reardon. I’m from near Galway, in Ireland.”

  “I am Father Lonegran. You are a long way from home,” he said sol-

  emnly as he walked with me toward the door of the chapel. “Please feel

  free to come into the sanctuary and pray and think. That is what the house of the Lord should be used for.”

  He blessed me and I walked out into the light of day in Deadwood.

  I would have asked him the way to the Gem Theater, but I wasn’t sure he

  would have approved of my visiting there.

  Padraic and Billy had left early that morning for the claim. They said they’d be back for dinner at noon and then would take me out on the town, but I had wanted to see some of it myself. I also had a strong feeling that Nel ie might talk to me differently if I were to show up with the two men.

  The snow of yesterday had melted into a slush that mixed with the

  mud of the streets and created an unholy mess. My light boots would not

  hold up to it. I might need to buy myself a few more pieces of clothing. I even considered buying a pair of dungarees for riding horseback. Padraic had told me that the only way to get out to the claim was by horse.

  The main street in Deadwood ran near the creek and had two- and

  three- story false fronts on each side of the street. Wagons rolled down the streets. Horses were left tied to railings.

  All around were the hil s, some bare from the fire or from cutting for

  building and firewood, but on other hil s pointed trees perched up near

  the sky like so many fingers pointing heavenward.

  After a couple of blocks I saw the Gem Theater. I entered and found

  it crowded, smoky, and noisy. Not a pleasant atmosphere. Women walked

  around wearing scanty outfits and hanging on men’s arms. My entrance

  caused a small stir— men stepped back and watched me pass. I walked

  quickly so as not to elicit any more attention.

  Groups of men surrounded what I assumed were the faro card games,

  gambling with bags of gold dust as the dealers threw out the cards. Most

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  of the dealers were men, but I even saw a woman dealing toward the back

  of the room.

  I walked up to the bar and asked for Nel ie. The bartender pointed to-

  ward the back. The stage was empty so I went up the side stairs and found Nel ie in one of the back rooms.

  “Hello, Nel ie.”

  At first Nel ie didn’t seem to know who I was. Finally I seemed to come

  into focus for her. “Holy Jesus, girl, what do you think you’re doing here?”

  “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for Lily.”

  “Does Billy know you’re here?” Her words sounded oddly slurred as if

  I had woken her from a deep sleep.

  I shook my head no.

  Sitting in front of a mirror, Nel ie was wearing a brassiere and corset

  with a filmy skirt around her waist. I felt hot and stuffy in my coat and wool dress. I could not imagine sitting around in public with so little on, but she seemed very comfortable, almost sleepy. She gave me a vague smile. Seeing her up so close, she looked older and coarser t
han she had last night.

  Her eyes were rimmed with red and her teeth looked dirty.

  Another woman was sitting with her, applying makeup to her eyes.

  She looked Chinese and had beautiful hair, like a blue- black wave falling over her shoulders and down her back. I wanted to put my hand out to

  stroke it. The face under it was rather homely with a long chin and small eyes. She didn’t smile, only looked at me as if I were an oddity. She was wearing a silk robe opened to the waist with a dark corset on underneath.

  Nel ie was smoking a cigarette, something I had not often seen a

  woman do. She pointed to another room and said, “You wanted to see

  about Lily. We’ve got her all laid out in back. The doctor brought her over this morning, and we all worked on her. Go take a look at her. I think she looks lovely. Like an angel. That’s what she was, an angel.”

  Tall maroon curtains were drawn with only a sliver of sun coming

  through them to light up the room. Lily looked so pale. They had dressed her all in white, down to her pigskin gloves. Her hands were crossed on

  her stomach and her chest was covered with an eyelet white dress. With-

  out the wound showing she looked as if she was resting.

  I crossed myself and said a prayer for her and told her Seamus was

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  fine. I would tell him I had seen her and she was properly taken care of. He would be glad of that. Or I hoped he would. How well did I really know my brother after these years apart?

  When I walked back into the dressing room, Nel ie introduced me to

  the other woman. Her name was Ching Su. “Her name doesn’t mean any-

  thing, she says. She says it’s just like Nel ie, only a name that girls get when they’re born. Her stage name is Sugar Sue. I like that. It suits her.”

  Sugar Sue gave me a little bow with her hands together, then went

  back to putting on her makeup. Her face was covered with white powder.

  She looked like a dol , with a faraway look on her face. I wondered what her voice would sound like. I had never heard a Chinese person talk.

  Nel ie shook her head. “We’ve got a show to do in just a few minutes.

  Why don’t you go out front and watch and then come back when we’re

  done.”

  I hadn’t wanted to stay so long. I needed to get back and get dinner

  ready for the men. “If it’s too long, I’ll have to leave. I’ll come back later.”

  Sugar Sue lifted her face to me. She had finished putting on her make-

  up and was busy dressing her hair. Her hands wrapped it around and

  around in a thick, dark coil. “Are you looking for work?” she asked me.

  Her voice was soft like a slight breeze with only a hint of an accent.

  “No, I have a houseful of men to take care of,” I told her.

  She nodded knowingly.

  “Oh, I mean, I cook and clean for them.” I felt I should explain. “That’s all. One of them is my brother.”

  She covered her mouth and laughed. Then she pulled out a small pipe

  from a drawer in her dresser. “Would you like some?” she asked, offering it to me.

  Nel ie knocked her hand down. “No, she doesn’t do that. She’s book

  smart. She has learning and everything.”

  Sugar Sue put the pipe away.

  “Chop- chop, darling,” Nel ie tapped Sugar Sue on the head. “We need

  to get onstage.”

  As Sugar Sue stood up, I noticed something else about her. Her feet

  were like two small balls on the ends of her legs, smaller than any feet I had seen. She was standing with them in red slippers that looked like they

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  would fit my big toe. I could not help myself and gasped at the sight of them.

  Nel ie gave out a laugh. “Don’t you know about the celestials?”

  “What are celestials?”

  “The Chinese. The women still bind their feet. Supposed to make

  them more valuable. I’m not sure for what. Means Sugar Doll can’t do any dancing. Right, sweetie?” She nudged Sugar Sue, who almost fell down

  from Nel ie’s weight.

  “Celestials? What a lovely name— but why are they called that?”

  “Because many call China ‘the celestial empire.’ But sometimes I think

  they call them celestials to make fun of them.”

  I left them to their final preparations and went out front. I felt un-

  comfortable with all the men around, so I slipped into a seat and hunched down. Professor Pete was at the piano playing some popular song. I wished I had not come by myself. I was afraid that one of the men would accost

  me. In New York, I had been careful in the streets, crossing over if a group of men were coming my way, but I had never before experienced the leers

  that surrounded me in this theater.

  Sugar Sue hobbled out onstage first. She was still wearing the robe and

  it was fastened up to her neck. She looked almost demure. Sitting down on a chair, she nodded her head to the music with a Chinese sound to it. Then I recognized it as a Gilbert and Sullivan tune. I had seen the play from standing room only on my afternoon off. The song was sung by Yum- Yum:

  I mean to rule the earth,

  as he the sky—

  We really know our worth,

  the sun and I!

  Nel ie came strutting out in the same outfit she had on backstage, and

  I felt sick for her, having to parade around in front of this group of men like that. She had a big smile plastered on her face, but her eyes still looked far away.

  Around me men were erupting, hooting, and hollering, yel ing,

  “Whoa, dol ie!” and “Will you take a look at that!”

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  With all their stamping and whistling, it was hard to hear the song,

  but I realized that I was probably the only person trying to listen. The men stood at the foot of the stage and threw money at the two women. Partway through the song, Sugar Sue let her robe slip off her shoulders and reveal the corset she was wearing underneath. The men went wild around me.

  After the show, Nel ie came walking out and pulled me to a table. She

  leaned in close to me, her eyes wide in the dark room, and said, “I think it’s the men that Lily met here that brought her to her death.”

  “You don’t think Seamus did it, do you?”

  “Not on your life. But there’s a few others who’ve been seeing her that

  might have. Wouldn’t put it past that Charlie Hunt. Always thinking he

  should have anything he wants.”

  “But is Charlie here?”

  “Not sure. I heard he was coming back soon.”

  I certainly knew that about him from the way he had treated me. It

  was one thing for my brother to fall in love with a working girl, but quite another for Charlie Hunt, who could have any woman he wanted, to take

  up with her and then not want anyone else to have her.

  “Two others come to mind: Moses Walker, a poor miner who’s made

  a right pest of himself, and Ching Lee. He’s Sugar Sue’s brother. He runs the laundry in Chinatown. Very rich. He gave Lily the most beautiful silk fabric to make her dresses.”

  “Anyone see Lily after she left Seamus that night?”

  Nel ie shook her head. “I’ll keep asking around, but so far no luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  “The funeral’s tomorrow. Will you come?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “All us girls pitched in and bought her a casket and a plot up on the

  hil . She’ll be buried close to Wild Bill Hickok. She would have liked that.

  She always thought he was a gentleman.”

  Just then a man came up and leered dow
n at Nel ie. “I’ve got gold

  dust, sweetie. Plenty of it. Let’s go to your room.”

  I watched Nel ie stand and follow the man, glad I was not in her place.

  I had heard about such places where women went to work and sold

  their bodies, but I never thought I would enter one. Yet if my uncle hadn’t

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  given me a place to stay in New York and if I hadn’t found a job quickly in the boardinghouse, who knows what might have become of me? More

  than ever before I resolved to take care of myself and find, in this wild country, a means to security.

  Then and there, I promised my dear departed mother that Nel ie’s

  path would never be mine. As soon as this mess with Seamus and the sale

  of the mine were settled, I’d find a proper job.

  11

  Cooking smels assailed me as I walked in the door of what I was

  quickly coming to consider my home. Padraic had the potatoes on

  to boil and Billy was after skinning a fresh rabbit. It did my heart good to see two men doing the cooking.

  I threw off my coat and entered the fray. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You are your own person, Brigid. You don’t

  need to answer to us.” Billy grinned, tossed the rabbit pelt on the wood box, and sliced the flayed carcass into quarters.

  After finding a sack of flour under the counter, I began to stir up some biscuits. I had made them so many times at the boardinghouse that I didn’t need a recipe.

  “There’s much to see in this enterprising town,” I told them.

  “And what did you see in our fair city?” Padraic asked me with a smile

  on his face that looked a little false.

  I realized they both wanted to know where I’d been but didn’t feel like

  they could ask me. Without Seamus around, they did not exactly know

  how to treat me. But I determined I would not lie to them or even avoid

  the truth. “I went to see the church.”

  “To church? And what did you find there? God?” Padraic teased.

  I ignored him for a moment as I spooned out the biscuits onto a cook-

  ing sheet. “Only his humble servant, Father Lonegran, but then I’m sure

  you two know him wel .”

  Padraic shrugged his shoulders. “Only in passing. After losing half my