In the Land of the Long White Cloud

coast. Instead, with his portion of the profits he opened a blacksmith’s workshop, which proved to be a considerably more lucrative “gold mine” than any in the area. Fleurette and Ruben hired an old prospector to take his place as head of the haulage division. Leonard McDunn was easygoing, knew his way around horses, and knew how to treat people. Fleurette worried only about the deliveries for the ladies.
    “I can’t seriously expect him to pick out my underwear,” she complained to Daphne, whom Fleurette had befriended, much to the horror of the now
three
respectable women in town. “He blushes when he just brings me the catalog. I’ll have to ride along at least every second or third trip.”
    Daphne shrugged. “Just send the twins. They may not be the brightest—you can’t trust them to handle negotiating and the like—but they have good taste. I’ve always valued that. They know how to dress like a lady and what we need in the ‘hotel,’ naturally. Besides, it’ll give them a chance to get out a bit and earn their own money.”
    Fleurette was skeptical at first but was quickly convinced. Mary and Laurie brought back an ideal combination of modest articles of clothing and wonderfully wicked little articles that sold like hotcakes, to Fleur’s surprise—and not only to the whores. Stuart’s blushing bride purchased a black corset, and a few miners thought they were sure to please their wives with some colorful lingerie. Although Fleur was not sure that it was her sort of thing, business was business. Anddiscreet changing rooms—supplied with large mirrors instead of a depressing dais for coffins—were installed.

    The work in the store still left Ruben plenty of time for studying law, which he still found enjoyable, even if he had given up his dream of becoming a lawyer for good. To his delighted surprise, he soon put his studies into practice: the justice of the peace came to him for counsel with increasing regularity and began to bring him along to trials as well. Ruben proved himself authoritative and just at these proceedings, and when the next election time came, the incumbent justice created a stir. Instead of putting himself up for reelection, he proposed Ruben as his successor.
    “Look at it this way, people!” the old coffin maker explained in his speech. “There was always a conflict of interest with me: if I kept the people from killing each other, no one needed a coffin. When you look at it that way, my office ruined my business. It’s different for young O’Keefe, since whoever gets his head bashed in can’t buy any more tools. It’s in his own best interest to keep law and order. So vote for him and let me have a break!”
    The citizens of Queenstown took his advice and elected Ruben as the new justice of the peace by an overwhelming majority.
    Fleurette was happy for him, though she did not quite follow the former justice’s line of reasoning. “You could also bash someone’s head in with our tools,” she whispered to Daphne. “And I very much hope Ruben doesn’t prevent his customers too often from that laudable deed.”

    The only drop of bitterness in Fleurette and Ruben’s well of happiness in the growing gold-rush town was the lack of contact with their families. Both would have liked to write to their mothers but didn’t dare.
    “I don’t want my father to know where I am,” Ruben made clear when Fleurette was getting ready to write her mother. “And it’s better that you keep it hidden from your grandfather as well. Who knows what will get into their heads otherwise? You were underage when we married. They could decide to make trouble for us. Besides, I’m afraid my father would take out his anger on my mother. It wouldn’t be the first time. I still try not to think about what happened after I left.”
    “But we have to get word to them somehow,” Fleurette said. “You know what? I’ll write to Dorothy. Dorothy Candler. She can tell my mother.”
    Ruben gripped his own head. “Are you crazy? If you write to Dorothy, Mrs. Candler will hear about it too. And then you might as well scream out the news in the marketplace in Haldon. If you have to write, write to Elizabeth Greenwood. I trust her to be more discreet.”
    “But Uncle George and Elizabeth are in England,” Fleur objected.
    Ruben shrugged. “And? They have to return home sometime. Our mothers will just have to be patient until then. And who knows, maybe your mother will have