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“So few did. I’m impressed your father did.”
“Well, he didn’t make it in gold. At least not in panning for it. He went to work for a man who had a saloon and ahotel. My father made a lot of money in tips. The men of the gold rush were very generous, he told me. They would give him a pinch of dust for seeing that their drinks were refilled or for watching over their saddlebags or seeing to their horses. Sometimes they had a desire for something and would pay my father to go find it. I remember he said one man sent him in search of a pillow, but not just any pillow. This one had to be stuffed with goose down.”
“Did your father find one?”
“Indeed, he did. There was no job my father wouldn’t do, and he soon had enough money to invest in other things—particularly shipping. He had met a man who had his own freighting company and told my father the real money was in shipping.”
“Did he buy his own ship?”
“In time he bought many, but at first he leased them. He’d hire captains to work for him, and they would bring lumber down from the northwest for building in San Francisco. That’s where my father originally settled. He met my mother there, and they married after only knowing each other a few short weeks. She was the daughter of a man who owned many stores. My father arranged with my grandfather to supply most of his needs.”
“I wish I could have known them.” Isabella had only seen a couple of pictures of them. They had never wanted to meet her or see her mother after she married.
“They were good people, Isabella. They just didn’t understand my choice to marry your father. I couldn’t help that I had fallen in love. I couldn’t imagine my life without him, and it hurt me deeply that they expected me to give him up without even trying to understand my feelings.”
“Do you regret your choice?”
Mama shook her head. “Never once.”
Maya entered the library and announced, “Señora, a man has come to see Señor Garcia.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
“He’s a lawman from California. Marshal Bradley.”
Isabella and her mother both rose at the same time and looked at each other. Isabella could only imagine it had something to do with Diego.
“Show him into the music room,” Mama said. “We’ll see him there.”
“Do you want me to get Papi?” Isabella asked once the housekeeper had gone.
“No, I believe you and I should be able to manage.”
They made their way to the music room, where the tall man was waiting.
Mama swept into the room in her usual graceful manner. She extended her hand and smiled. “Marshal Bradley, I’m Mrs. Garcia. My husband has been very ill, so he’ll be unable to join us.”
“Mrs. Garcia,” the marshal said, shaking her hand. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I have some questions regarding the death of your sister-in-law.”
“Please sit down. We’ll answer to the best of our ability, but you must know that none of us were there when it happened.”
“Yes, I realize that.”
Isabella sat with Mama on the sofa while the marshal sat in the chair Aaron usually chose. She studied the long-legged man for a moment. He was tan, and his face was leathery in appearance. He seemed to be in his forties or even early fifties, with thick brown hair that was parted on the side.
“Now, how can we help you, Marshal Bradley?” Mama asked.
“I understand Diego Morales is here.”
“In Silver Veil, yes. Living here at the house, no. My husband gave him a job at the mine, and he lives with the other workers.”
“What can you tell me about his character?”
Mama shook her head. “Not a great deal. He is the son of our neighbor in California. He came over from time to time for issues related to the horses we raised, or to accompany his father. We left California in 1897 and haven’t been back since. Our daughter, Isabella, moved in with her aunt some time ago. She and Diego became close.”
The marshal looked at Isabella. She wondered what she should say. So much of what she had heard about Diego was just hearsay. The things she knew about him otherwise had always been good.
She shrugged. “Diego and I were considering marriage.”
